H. P. Grice

H. P. Grice, St. John’s Oxford: Conversational Implicata and Conversation as Rational Co-Operation – A Catalogue Raisonné

absolutes: trust Grice to pluralise Bradley’s absolute. Grice repatedly uses the plural ‘abosolutes,’ and occasionally the singular. An etymological glimpse may be in order. Obviously, he is having in mind the absolute-relative distinction, and he does not want to be seen as relativist, unless it is a constructionist relativist. The entry in Lewis and Short is ‘absolvere,’ which they render as ‘to loosen from, to make loose, set free, detach, untie (usu. trop., the fig. being derived from fetters, qs. a vinculis solvere, like vinculis exsolvere, Plaut. Truc. 3, 4, 10).’ So that makes sense. Grice refers to Bradley in ‘Prolegomena,’ and has an essay on the ‘absolutes.’ It’s all back to when pragmatist philosopher and provocateur F. Schiller creates this parody edition of “Mind,” “Mind!” The frontispiece is a portrait of its immanence the absolute, which, Schiller notes, is very like the Bellman’s map in The hunting of the snark: completely blank. The absolute – or the infinite or ultimate reality, among other grand aliases – is the sum of all experience and being, and inconceivable to the human mind. It is monistic, consuming all into the one. If it sounds like something you would struggle to get your head around, that is pretty much the point. The absolute is an emblem of metaphysical idealism, the doctrine that truth exists only within the domain of thought. Idealism dominates the academy for the entirety of Dogdson’s career, and part of Grice’s, and it is beginning to come under attack. The realist mission, headed by Wilson, is to clean up philosophy’s act with the sound application of mathematics and objective facts, and it feels like a breath of fresh air. Schiller delights in trolling absolute idealists in general and Bradley in particular. Schiller claims that the snark is a satire on the absolute, whose notorious ineffability drive its seekers to derangement. But this is disingenuous. Bradley’s major essay, Appearance and reality, mirrors the point, insofar that there is one, of the snark. When you home in on a thing and try to pin it down by describing its attributes, and then try to pin down what those are too – Bradley uses the example of a lump of sugar. It all begins to crumble, and must be something other instead. What appears to be there is only ever an idea. Dodgson is, contrariwise, in line with idealist thinking. A passionate logician, Dodgson is working on an essay on symbolic logic. Two logical paradoxes that he poses in Mind and shares privately with friends and colleagues, such as Bradley, hint at a trouble-making sentiment regarding where logic might be headed. ‘A logical paradox’ results in two contradictory statements being simultaneously true. ‘What the tortoise said to Achilles’ (cited by Grice in his essay on egcrateia) sets up a predicament in which each proposition requires an additional supporting proposition, creating an infinite regress. A few years after Dodgson’s death, Russell begins to flex logic as a tool for denoting the world and testing the validity of propositions about it. Dodgson’s paradoxes are problematic and demand a solution. Russell’s response to ‘A logical paradox’ is to legislate nonsense away into a null-class – a set of non-existent propositions that, because it had no real members, do not exist either. Russell’s solution to ‘What the tortoise said to Achilles’ tucked away in a footnote to The Principles of Mathematics, entails a recourse to sense in order to determine whether or not a proposition should be asserted in the first place, teetering into the mind-dependent realm of idealism. Mentally determining meaning is a bit like mentally determining reality, and it is not a neat win for logic’s role as objective sword of truth.  In the snark, the principles of narrative self-immolate, so that the story, rather than describing things and events in the world, undoes them into something other. It ends like this. In the midst of the word he was trying to say, in the midst of his laughter and glee, he had softly and suddenly vanished away – for the snark was a boojum, you see. Strip the plot down to those eight final words, and it is all there. The thing sought turned out, upon examination, to be something else entirely. Beyond the flimsy veil of appearance, formed from words and riddled with holes, lies an inexpressible reality. By the late twentieth century, when Russell has won the battle of ideas and commonsense realism prevails, critics such as Martin Gardner, author of The Annotated Hunting of the Snark, are rattled by Carroll’s antirealism. If the reality we perceive is all there is, and it falls apart, we are left with nothing. Dodgson’s attacks on realism might look nihilistic or radical to a post-war mind steeped in atheist scientism, but they are neither. Dodgson, like Grice, is a man of his time, taking a philosophically conservative party line on absolute idealism and its theistic implications. But Dodgson, like Grice, is also prophetic, seeing conflict at the limits of language, logic and reality, and laying as of conceptual traps that continue to provoke it.  The snark is one such trap. Carroll rejects his illustrator Holiday’s image of the boojum on the basis that it needs to remain unimaginable, for, after all, how can you illustrate the incomprehensible nature of ultimate reality? It is a task as doomed as saying the unsayable – which, paradoxically, was a task Dodgson himself could not quite resist. At Oxford, they, and not just Schiller, laugh at Bradley’s absolute. Even Bradley laughed at it. But now Grice has an essay on absolutes, sic in plural. In the Oxonian received parlance, the absolute is a boo-jum, you see, so it cannot be plural. Bradley, however, does not help. Bradley writes of “a higher unity, and, on the other hand, pure spirit is not realized except in the absolute. It can never and it enters into, but is itself incapable of, evolution and progress. It may repay us too.” We need a study of Bradley’s idealism as applied to axiology. For surely the absolute contrasts with the relative, and it is the relative-absolute distinction that Grice feels like tackling axiologically. At Oxford, and especially at Corpus, tutees are aware of Hartmann on axiology in his Ethik. Barnes destroys Hartmann for The Jowett! But is Barnes understanding Hartmann? According to Barnes, Hartmann, otherwise a naturalist, claims that this or that value may exist, and not in what Hartmann calls the realm (Reich) of nature. Hartmann claims that if it can be shown that this or that value is a genuine existent entity, it will be shown that this or that moral principle is ‘objective.’ For neo-Kantian Hartmann, very much like for Grice, the ‘relativeness’ rests upon the discernment or conception of this or that value, which is ‘absolute.’ The relativenessndoes not rest upon the relativeness of this or that value. For Hartmann, as Grice explains, a value is a genuine existent entity. This is so because a value is an essence, where this or that essence form a different realm of this or that entity which is not less real, and in a way more real, than the world of this or that existing thing. For Grice, however, this conception of a value as an essence or common ideal property of a thing is misleading. This is because, Grice argues, the primary conception of the essence of a thing relates simply to this or that necessarily imperfect and contingent observation or experience of what a thing is, and how it resembles a similarly existing thing. It therefore follows that this conception need not relate to some alleged property the form of which is perfect and eternal. As Grice puts it, to conceive the essence of a table, e. g., is simply to conceive what a table is. It is an imperfect conception of this or that thing, not a perfect conception of an ideal entity. As such, Grice claims that Hartmann’s notion that this or that axiological principle is objective and ‘absolute,’ if understood un-constructively, is groundless. This is because the notion is based upon a mistaken conception of the ideal essence of a value. Like Hartmann, Grice is very ‘systematik’ and uses ‘relative’ variously. His utterer’s meaning, e. g., treated in greater detail here under ‘communication,’ is notoriously relative. It is an act of communication or meaning-qua utterer-relativised, as Grice puts it in his ‘Epilogue.’ His choice of words is evidence that he has explored the axiological absolute as a constructed notion. A main tenet of Grice’s constructivism is that the absolute, versus the relative, is constructed out of the relative, though. There is hardly a realm of un-constructed reality. However, Grice is especially concerned with Barnes’s, and Hare’s and Mackie’s rather cavalier (Oxford pinko) simplistic attitude towards the relative and the absolute. Surely the absolute IS a construction out of the relative. Grice adopts not so much a neo-Kantian tenet, as Hartmann does, as a Kantotelian one. We designate, in the power structure of the soul, a proper judge, the ratiocinative part of the soul of a personal being. Whatever is relative to this particular creature attains, ipso facto, absolute value. Grice proposes a reduction of what is valuable-absolute to what is valuable-relative, and succeeds. He was possibly irritated by Julie Andrews in Noël Coward’s “Relative values.” Cf. absolute-relative distinction, the. Refs: Hartmann, Ethik, I. Berlin, The rationality of value judgements. Dodgson, For the Snark was a Boojum, you see; Hare, Subjective values, absolutum-relativum. Grice, Values, Morals, Absolutes, and the Metaphysical, The H. P. Grice Papers, Series V (Topical), c 9-f. 24, BANC MSS 90/135c, The Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley, henceforth, BANC.

abstractum: The usual phrase in Grice is ‘abstract’ as adjective and applied to ‘entity,’ and as anything that may be regarded as troublesome in set theory. Grice says he belongs to 'the class for all those whose classes have no members'. Classes with the same elements are the same.  Definition: A class xx is a set just in case there is a class yy such that x∈yx∈y. A class which is not a set is said to be a proper class. Zermelo read Cantor's essay and found an antinomy ("on the third page."). Zermelo immediate wrote his uncle (translation mine): Dear Uncle, I'm reading Cantor's essay and have found an antinomy. Should I write to HIM? I fear he might overeact. But the antinomy is so obvious: Consider "the set of all sets that are not members of themselves." This obviously leads to a contradiction since it must be a member of itself and not a member of itself. Love, Your loving nephew. Grice had access to the Correspondence of Zermelo and re-wrote the antinomy.Consider, Cantor asks us, "the set of all sets that are not members of themselves." This obviously leads to a pragmatic contradiction, as G. E. Moore might agree, since this set must be a member of itself and not a member of itself. Which remembers me of our friend J. L. Austin. For _he_ thinks he can lead a class -- and he thinks Saturday morning is a good time, "for a class," he says, "for all those who whose classes have no members." Shall I take that as an insult, Yours, xxx -- Grice. C. Burali-Forti, “Sulle classi ben ordinate. Grice is hardly attached to canonicals, not even those of first-order predicate logic together with class theory. He selects extensionalism, a position imbued with the spirit of nominalism, and dear to those who are particularly impressed by the power of class theory. Grice proposes two ways to relieve a vacuous ‘general’ term or predicate from the embarrassing consequence of denoting the empty set. The first proposal exploits the non-vacuousness some other ‘general’ term or predicate which is a constituent in a definition of the original vacuous term. Grice starts with two vacuous predicates: P1, ‘is married to a daughter of an English queen and a pope’ and P2 ‘is a climber on hands and knees of a 29,000 foot mountain.’ If P1 and P2 are vacuous, the P3 and P4 are satisfied by the empty set: P3 ‘is a set composed of daughters of an English queen and a pope', and ‘is a set composed of climbers on hands and knees of a 29,000 foot mountain. Provided relations R1 and R2 are suitably interpreted, P3 and P4 may be treated as co-extensive with, respectively, the following predicates: P5, 'stands in R1' to a sequence composed of the sets married to, daughters, English queens and popes; and P6, 'stands in R2 to a sequence composed of the sets climbers, 29,000 foot mountains, and things done on hands and knees.’ We now correlate P1 and P2 with, respectively, the following sequences derived from the above: the sequence composed of relation R1 (taken extensionally), the set ‘married to,’ the set ‘daughters,’ the set ‘English queens,’ and the set ‘popes;’ and the sequence composed of R2, the set ‘climbers,’ the set ‘29,000 foot mountains,’ and the set ‘things done on hands and knees.’ Sequences 1 and 2 are distinct. The proposal is that a sequence, rather than the empty set, be used for determining the explanatory potentiality of a vacuous ‘general’ term or predicate. Grice’s chief complaint against this proposal is that it involves yet another commission of what he regards as one of the main sins of minimalism, viz. imposing in advance a limitation on the character of explanations. For it implicitly recognizes it as a condition on the propriety of using a vacuous ‘general’ term or predicate in explanation that the ‘general’ term in question be representable as being co-related with a sequence of non-empty sets. Grice suspects this may be a condition which is not met by every vacuous predicate. The possibility of representing an explanatory term as reducible to some favoured item or types of items should be a bonus which some theory achieves, thereby demonstrating its elegance, not a condition of eligibility for a particular class of a would-be explanatory term. Grice suggests an alternative way of avoiding the un-wanted consequence, perhaps more intuitive than the first. The admissibility of a a vacuous predicate in an explanation of a possible but not actual phenomenon (why they would happen if they did happen) would depends on the availability of soe acceptable non-trivial generalisation wherein which the predicate specifies the antecedent condition. A generalisation whose acceptability would be unaffected by any variation on the specification of its antecedent condition, provided the substitute is vacuous, is certainly trivial. A non-trivial generalisations of this sort is certainly available, if is is derivable as a special case from some other generalisations involving a less specific antecedent condition, and this other generalization is adequately supported by further specifics whose antecedent condition is expressed by means of a non-vacuous predicate. The explanatory opportunity for a vacuous predicate would depend on its embodiment in a system. Grice’s doubts about this second suggestion relate to the steps which would be needed in order to secure an adequately powerful system. Grice conjectures, but cannot demonstrate, that the only way to secure such a system would be to confer special ontological privilege upon the entities of, say, physiology, together with the system which physiology provides. But now a problem arises. The preferred entity seem not to be observable, or in so far as it is observable, its observability seems to be more a matter of conventional decision to count such and-such occurrences as an observation than it is a matter of fact. It looks as if a state of affair in the preferred scientific world need, for credibility, support from the vulgar world of ordinary observation reported in the language of common sense. But to give that support, the judgement and the linguistic usage of the vulgar needs to be endowed with a certain authority, which as a matter of history the kind of minimalists whom Grice knows or knows of have not seemed anxious to confer. But even if the minimalists were anxious to confer it, what would validate the conferring, since ex hypothesi it is not the vulgar world but the specialist scientific world which enjoys ontological privilege? If the objection is sound, the second suggestion, like the first, takes something which when present is an asset, bonus, or embellishment, viz. systematicity, and, under philosophical pressure, converts it in to a necessity. I have, of course, not been attempting to formulate an argument by which minimalism, or indeed any particular version of minimalism, could be refuted. Grice’s antipathy to minimalism depends, however, not on the availability of an argument which shows the minimalist thesis to be mistaken, but on a concern to have a philosophical approach which does justice to the exuberant wealth and variety of human experience in a manner seemingly beyond the reach of minimalists. At this point, as Grice is aware, while a philosopher may be willing to align himself with Grice in opposition to extensionalism and physicalism, when he notices that Grice also declares his opposition to mechanism and to naturalism, the philosopher may be prompted to enquire whether Grice wishes to declare support for the objectivity of value and the presence of finality in nature, and to add that should Grice reply affirmatively, the philosopher would part company with Grice. Now Grice certainly does wish to affirm, under some interpretation, ‘the objectivity of value,’ and he also wishes to maintain, again under some interpretation, ‘finality in nature.’ Grice believes it is a necessary feature of a rational being, either as part of or as a consequence of part of, his essential nature, that he has a capacity for the attribution of value. Grice believes that it follows from this fact that there is objective value. For Grice, value, besides being objective, has at the same time intrinsic motivational force. This combination is rendered possible only by a constructivist approach rather than a realist approach to axiology. Only if value is in a suitable way instituted or conceived by the agent can it exhibit the aforesaid combination. The objectivity of value is possible only given finality or purpose in Nature, the admissibility of a final cause. The fact that reason is operative both in the doxastic and in the buletic realms strongly suggests that a constructivist approach is in order in both realms. The adoption of a constructivist approach makes possible, perhaps even demands, the adoption of a strong version of rationalism. One can regard oneself, qua rational being, as called upon not merely to have reasons for a “ratio cognoscendi” and a “ratio volendi,” but to allow for, a “ratio essendi” for a thing to be the case, at least in that area of reality which is constructed. Grice is having in mind the concretum-abstractum distinction, and as an Aristotelian, he wants to defend the categories as ‘abstracta.’ An etymological guide may be in order for both ‘abstractum’ and ‘concretum.’ For ‘concretum,’ Lewis and Short have ‘concrescere,’ rendered as ‘to grow together; hence with the prevailing idea of uniting, and generally of soft or liquid substances which thicken; to harden, condense, curdle, stiffen, congeal, etc. (very freq., and class. in prose and poetry).’ So that makes sense. As for ‘abstractum,’ Lewis and Short have ‘abstrăhere, which they render as ‘to draw away from a place or person, to drag or pull away.’ So that makes sense, too. The ability to see horses without seeing horses, as Plato remarks, is a matter of stupidity. Yet, perhaps of the commentary by his editors, Grice felt very defensive about ‘proposition.’ Indeed, one of his essays is on the ‘propositional complexum.’ The idea is that if we construct this ‘complexum’ step by step, and in set-theoretical terms, one may be forgiven, and not having committed onself to an ‘abstract entity.’ But how ‘abstract’ is set theory itself? Grice’s love was for the first-order predicate calculus with identity – not necessarily for ‘set theory,’ although he makes a passing mention to set theory in his oeuvre. An item i is an 'abstractum' iff i fails to occupy anything like a determinate region of space-time. This idea raises several questions. First, it is conceivable that certain items that are standardly regarded as an 'abstractum' might nonetheless occupy determinate volumes of space and time. Consider, for example, the various sets composed from Peter and Paul: {Peter, Paul},{Peter, {Peter, {{Paul}}}}, etc. We do not normally ask where such things are, or how much space they occupy. And indeed many philosophers will say that the question makes no sense, or that the answer is a dismissive ‘nowhere, none’. But, as Grice remarks, this answer is not forced upon us by anything in set theory. And analysing the ‘abstractum’ in terms of ‘iff’ does not really simplify things. Item i is an abstractum iff i is an instance of some kind Kf whose associated functional expression ‘f’ is governed by a suitable abstraction principle. The strong version of this account—which purports to identify a necessary condition for an item being an 'abstractum' —is seriously at odds with what Grice dismissively calls 'ordinary language.' He is being dismissive to pour scorn on Ernest Gellner who thought it was not! Now a pure set is a paradigmatic abstractum. But it is not clear that a set satisfies the proposed criterion. According to so-called 'naïve' set theory, the functional expression ‘... is a set of ...’ is indeed characterised by a putative 'abstraction' principle.  Using a substitutional quantifier: the set of As = the set of Bs iff (x).(x is A iff x is B). But this principle is inconsistent, and so fails to characterize an interesting concept. In mathematics, the concept of 'set' is notably *not* introduced by abstraction. It remains an open question whether something like the concept of 'set' can be characterized by a suitably restricted abstraction principle. V. Burgess for a survey of efforts in this direction since Aristotle.Even if such a principle is available, however, it is unlikely that an epistemological priority condition is satisfied, i. e., it is unlikely that mastery of the concept of 'set' presupposes mastery of the equivalence ('iff') relation that figures in the analysandum. It is therefore uncertain whether a way of 'abstraction' classifies an item of a pure set theory as an 'abstractum,' as it presumably must. The school of latter-day nominalism has always been criticised at Oxford, and Grice is not the exception. Do not expect Grice to use the phrase ‘propositional content,’ as Hare does so freely. Grices proposes a propositional complexum, rather. Grice is keen on the concept of a propositional complexum which allowed him not to commit to the abstract entity of a proposition, if the latter is regarded as an extensional family of propositional complexa (Paul saw Peter; Peter was seen by Paul). The topic of a propositional complex was one that Grice regarded as Oxonian in nature. Peacocke had struggled with the same type of problems, in his various essays on the theory of content. Only a perception-based account of content in terms of qualia gets the philosopher out of the vicious circle of introducing linguistic entities to clarify psychological entities and vice versa. One way to discharge the obligation to give an account of a proposition is would involve, as its central idea, focusing on a primitive range of simple statements, the formulation of which would involve no connective or quantifier, and treating each of these as expressing a propositional complexum which in such cases would consist of a sequence two simplicia,  simplex-1 and simplex- whose elements would be, first, for the first simplex, a general item (a set or an attribute, according to preference) and, the second simplex, an ordered sequence of this or that simplissimum, object, or individuum which might, or might not, instantiate or belong to the first item. The propositional complexum associated with Grice is wise  may be thought of consisting of a complex sequence whose first general member would be the set of wise persons, or alternatively the attribute or property of wisdom, and whose second (instantial or particular) member or individuum would be Grice or the singleton of Grice. Strawson loves Grice, may be represented as expressing a propositional complexum which is a complex sequence whose first element is love (considered either extensionally as a set or non-extensionally as an attribute or property, denoted by a two-place predicate) and whose second element is a sequence or ordered pair composed of the simplex individuum Strawson and the simplex individuum Grice, in that order. We can define a property of doxastic satisfactoriness which will be closely allied to the notion of truth. A simple, or primary propositional complexum is factive or alethically satisfactory just in case its two elements (the general element and the instantial element) are related by the appropriate predication relation, just in case e.g. the second element is a member of the set (or possesses the attribute) in which the first element consists. A proposition (propositio) simpliciter may now, alla Chomsky, be represented as each consisting of a family of propositional complexa. The conditions for family unity may be thought of either as fixed or as variable in accordance with the context. Grices ontological views are-at least-liberal. As Grice says when commenting on the mind-body problem in “Method”, I am not greatly enamoured of some of the motivations which prompt the advocacy of psychophysical identifications; I have in mind a concern to exclude such queer or mysterious entities as souls, purely mental events, purely mental properties and so forth. My taste is for keeping open house for all sorts of conditions of entities, just so long as when they come in they help with the housework. Provided that I can see them work, and provided that they are not detected in illicit logical behaviour (within which I do not include a certain degree of indeterminacy, not even of numerical indeterminacy), I do not find them queer or mysterious at all. To fangle a new ontological Marxism, they work therefore they exist, even though only some, perhaps those who come on the recommendation of some form of transcendental argument, may qualify for the specially favoured status of entia realissima. To exclude honest working entities seems to me like metaphysical snobbery, a reluctance to be seen in the company of any but the best objects. One way entities can work is by playing a role in the explanation of what a proposition is. What would such an explanation look like? And, what sorts of entities would it put to work? Answering these questions will illustrate Grices ontological Marxism while clarifying the notion of a proposition. What work do the entities in a theory of propositions do? They are to produce a theory meeting three constraints. First, there are systematic relations between sentences and propositions. For example, the sentence Socrates runs is correlated with the proposition that Socrates runs; the sentence snow is white with the proposition that snow is white, and so on. There are two determinants of the proposition (or propositions) to which a sentence is related. One is the syntactic form of the sentence. The sentences Clearly, John spoke and John spoke clearly are related to different propositions by virtue of the different syntactic relations among their respective parts. The other determinant is the meaning of the parts of the sentence. The sentence snow is white is correlated with the propositions that snow is white in part because snow means what it does. On Grices theory this correlation between sentences and propositions is effected by language-users resultant procedures. An adequate theory of propositions should explicitly characterize this systematic relation between this or that sentence and this or that proposition. Since there are infinitely many sentences, one would presumably give such a characterization recursively. The second constraint is that an account of what a proposition is should yield an adequate account of the relation of logical consequence that we exploit in everyday psychological explanation. E. g., if an utterer U, by uttering an appropriate sentence, means that U knows the route and that Smith does as well, the utterer Us addressee A may conclude that Smith knows the route. The conclusion, the proposition that Jones knows the route, is a logical consequence of the conjunctive proposition that the utterer U knows the route and that Smith does as well. Given the assumption that the utterer U is trustworthy, his addressee A is entitled to the conclusion precisely because it is a logical consequence of the proposition that the utterer means. We frequently exploit such a relation of logical consequence in every-day psychological explanation, and an adequate theory of what a proposition is should provide us with an adequate characterisation of this relation. One may think (as Grice does) that this task is not really distinct from exhibiting the systematic relations between this or that sentences and this or that proposition, but it is worth stating the second constraint separately to emphasize the role of logical consequence in psychological explanation, and hence the relation of a theory of propositions to such explanation. A third constraint is that a theory of what a proposition is should provide the basis, at least, for an adequate account of the relation between thought, action, and language on the one hand, and reality on the other. E. g., one perceives the desk, walks over to sit at it, and utters sentences to mean things about it. Since a proposition is the item we specify in specifying the content of a thought, perception, intention, act of meaning, and so on, an account of what a proposition is should at least provide the basis for an account of the relation between mind and reality. Since Quine is the philosopher most generally associated with the rejection of the idea of a proposition, it may be helpful briefly to compare Quines views with Grices. Quine has two main arguments against the idea of a propositions. The first is based on Quines arguments that synonymy is not a well-defined equivalence relation, the identity conditions for this or that proposition are unclear and there is no entity without identity. V e. g., Quine, Philosophy of Logic. On this issue, Grice is not committed to an equivalence relation of synonymy, thus his remark about indeterminacy, but he parts company with Quine over whether clear identity conditions are required for a kind of entity. If they work they exist, whether we can always tell them apart or count them ‒ or not. There are many respectable entities for which we do not have criteria of identity. Suppose Grices favourite restaurant moves. Is it a new restaurant with the same Names? Or suppose it changes owners and Namess but nothing else. Or that it changes menu entirely? Or that it changes chefs? It would be foolish to look for a single criterion to answer these questions ‒ the answers go different ways in different contexts. But surely the concept of a restaurant is a useful one and restaurants do exist. Quines second objection is that the idea of a proposition does not work. Grice denies this allegation. The main reason for disagreement is perhaps due to Quines attitude that a concept such as desire and belief is of, at most, secondary importance in the unified canonical science that is his standard for ontology. Grice does not believe that every-day psychological discourse is a temporary pre-scientific expedient to be done away with as soon as possible. On the contrary, Grice believes that at least some psychological concepts and explanations play a fundamental role in both semantics and ethics. To quote the relevant passage a second time. The psychological theory which I envisage would be deficient as a theory to explain behaviour if it did not contain provision for interests in the ascription of psychological states otherwise than as tools for explaining and predicting behaviour, interests e. g. on the part of one creature to be able to ascribe these rather than those psychological states to another creature because of a concern for the other creature. Within such a theory it should be possible to derive strong motivations on the part of the creatures Subjects to the theory against the abandonment of the central concepts of the theory and so of the theory itself, motivations which the creatures would or should regard as justified. Indeed, only from within the framework of such a theory, I think, can matters of evaluation, and so, of the evaluation of modes of explanation, be raised at all. If I conjecture aright, then, the entrenched system contains the materials needed to justify its own entrenchment; whereas no rival system contains a basis for the justification of anything at all. Now suppose, as Grice thinks, certain ways of thinking, certain categories, are part of what is entrenched. There are certain concepts or categories that we cannot avoid applying to reality. The entities in these categories are entia realissima. We discover these categories by discovering what parts of everyday psychology are entrenched. The idea that there are necessary categories plays a role in Grices views about ethics; in discussing this views we see why certain principles or laws of  everyday psychology are self-justifying, principles connected with the evaluation of ends. If these same principles play a role in determining what we count as entia realissima, metaphysics would be grounded in part in considerations about value (a not unpleasant project). Abstracta. Cf. Ryle, “Categories,” in Flew, cf. Perin on substantial universal in Aristotle. Cf. Gasser-Winget on perception of universal. In order to understand and appreciate Aristotle’s views on the universalium, it is important to take into account the context in which he philosophises.  In the days of what Grice calls “Athenian dialectics,” the contemporary teaching treats a form as a thing in its own right and distinguishes it sharply from a sensible particular. Platonism, as Aristotle understands it, has a form standing entirely apart from a concrete particular participating in it, leaving it hard to see how it could possibly contribute to the being and knowledge of a particular thing. It is not surprising that such a sharp distinction invokes difficult questions concerning the existence and ontological status of a form – the questions concerning the existence and range of a form are disputed among the Platonists themselves. Aristotle takes the theory of form to be a theory of the universalium, but Aristotle’s ‘katholou’ is not simply a synonym for the Platonic form, idea, or eidos. It is easy to miss this point, since talk of a universalium is often understood as talk of some independent or additional entity, posited by the metaphysician usually called “a realist” and not by others. So, in contemporary usage, “universalium” is associated with something like the Platonic form. This association, however, is quite misleading when applied to Aristotle’s katholou. He is very careful to disassociate his katholou from the Platonic Form. He says repeatedly that a universalium is not, strictly speaking, a substance (they do not signify “this somethings”) and that they are not separate from sensible particulars. Since Aristotle is very much concerned with rejecting the existence of separate Forms, he is evidently aware of the problems concerning the existence and ontological status. Grice mainly avoids speaking about Plato’s own views, but it should be pointed out Plato raises many of the problems himself in the Parmenides. Nonetheless, he nowhere tries to prove the existence of his universals (at least not in the way the Platonists try to prove the existence of Forms). Most significantly, his positive remarks on universals remain neutral with regard to their ontological status (and escape the standard divide of realism and nominalism). It is difficult to determine the precise reasons for his neutrality but it is clear that since Aristotle is aware of the ontological problem, his neutrality cannot simply be the result of ignorance. Instead, Aristotle might think that his rejection of a separate form gives him certain immunity against these ontological questions. He might think that the ontological status of a universalium is not particularly worrisome as long as we do not separate it from a particular and treat a universalium as a thing in its own right, extending to them an irreducible ontological status. None of Aristotle’s commentators (except perhaps Grice) have tried to develop a positive account of his neutrality. Aristotle’s commentators instead concentrate on the question concerning the ontological status of his universals. Indeed, it is hard to avoid this question, given that the concept of universal has long been understood in association with the “problem of universals”. Furthermore, this problem might appear to be particularly worrisome in the context of Aristotle’s philosophy because Aristotle remains painstakingly non-committal with regard to the ontological status of universals. Nonetheless, I do not think the reason why Aristotle’s commentators have focused on, and disputed over, the ontological status of his universals lies simply in his neutrality on the topic, though this plays a role. Above all, this dispute seems to rely on the widely accepted view that Aristotle commits himself to a dualism of a particular and a universalium, where Aristotle mentions five arguments for the existence of a platonic form, which are discussed in greater detail in ‘Peri Ideôn,’ portions of which are preserved by Alexander in his commentary on Met.  A. 149 which differs from the Platonic dualism only in that he denies that universals could exist independently from particulars of which they are predicated. The most important motivations for attributing to Aristotle a Platonic dualism of particulars and universals come from his standard definitions of the “universal” and “particular” in the De Int., and from his account of primary and secondary substances in the Categories. Aristotle’s standard definitions. By universal Aristotle means that which is by nature predicated of many things; by particular, what is not. This seems to set up some sort of distinction between particulars and universals. If a universal is that which is predicated of many things and particular is that which is not, then it follows by definition that Aristotle’s “universal” and Aristotle’s “particular” cannot be strictly identical. No universal can be a particular or vice versa, since no universal can be both predicated and not predicated of many things. From this it is easy to draw a further conclusion that the distinction between particulars and universals is absolute (both exclusive and exhaustive), and hence Aristotle, like Plato, treats particulars and universals as irreducibly distinct kinds of things. This is a natural conclusion to draw in light of contemporary discussions. On the contemporary conception, the alternative between universals and particulars is seen as absolute, and it is often assumed that this is the case with Aristotles distinction as well.179 However, it should be pointed out that Aristotle defines particular in the De Int. only negatively and his positive discussions indicate that the particular stands in a peculiarly intimate relation to the universal (which cannot be characterized as a kind of dualism. Some argue that Aristotle’s definitions of universal and particular commit him to a dichotomy between particular and universal which appears to be both exclusive and exhaustive. Another, and perhaps the most important reason for attributing to Aristotle a Platonic dualism goes back to “Categories.” Aristotle’s discussion in the Categories throws some light on the ontological commitments that lie behind his standard definition of the “universal” as that which is by nature predicated of many things. In the Categories, Aristotle argues that everything that is predicated of some subjects is ultimately predicated of some primary substance, and concludes that ‘if the primary substance does not exist, it would be impossible for any of the other things to exist. This conclusion indicates that Aristotle takes the opposite position to Platonists with regard to the ontological dependence of a universal. While a universal cannot exist without or independently of a particular, a form can. However, according to the traditional interpretation, the disagreement between Plato and Aristotle runs even deeper and concerns the issue of ontological priority. Aristotle’s conclusion that a universal cannot exist independently of a particular is traditionally understood as implying that a particular can exist independently of a universal predicated of them. Hence a particular enjoys ontological priority over a universal, i.e., a universal cannot exist without a particulars but not vice versa. Consequently, Aristotle turns the Platonic position upside down. Whereas the Platonists ascribe an ontological priority to a universal forms, Aristotle attributes it to a concrete particular. This well-established interpretation is the main reason for attributing to Aristotle a dualist position. It implies that both Plato and Aristotle separate two things, the one of which can exist without the other. The only difference is that, while Platonist separates a universal from a particular. He holds that a universal form can exist without a particular, but not vice versa. Aristotle separates a particular from a universal. He holds that a particular can exist without universals, but not vice versa.The latter separation, however, has a result similar to the Platonic separation. The separation immediately brings to the forefront questions concerning the existence and ontological status of a universal. Aristotle’s conclusion that a universal cannot exist without a particular does not imply that a particular can therefore exist without a universal. A particular and a universal are ontologically interdependent. It is no more possible for a particular to exist without a universal than it is for a universal to exist without a particular. Although he does not turn the Plato’s position upside down, Aristotle definitely changes it, and he does so in a more radical manner than is traditionally thought. The traditional interpretation holds that a particular can exist independently from a universal, thereby committing Aristotle to a dualism, the view that there is an exhaustive distinction between a particular and a universal, so that the one can exist without the other. A different interpretation holds that a particular and a universal are ontologically interdependent, and their ontological interdependence implies that particular and universal (or primary substance and secondary substance) cannot be labels for irreducibly distinct types of things. Aristotle thinks that for a particular to be it has to be something and a universal provides the something that the thing is. However, the universal adds nothing “extra” to the particular. The universal is not an extra entities. Rather, the universal is embedded in the very nature and being of the particular. The universal is what the particular is. Hence, talk of particular and universal (or, primary and secondary substance) is really a shorthand way of talking about a universalised particulars and a particularised universal. Aristotle does not commit himself to a dualism of universal and particular. A universals is are of the essential being of the particular and this might well be the reason why Aristotle does not feel the need to prove the existence of a universal. Its existence is as obvious as the existence of a particular. After all, we do not assume that the existence of a particular physical object needs to be proved in some special way. Nonetheless, although Aristotle does not want to set up an exhaustive distinction between universal and particular, he does not go to the other extreme and identify universal with particular. Accordingly, while interdependence is not a dualism it is not a strict identity either. Strict identity is governed by Leibniz’s Law. if A = B, whatever is true of the one is true of another. But it does not seem to be the case that whatever is true of a particular is true of a universal, and vice versa. This is suggested byAristotle’s definitions of universal and particular. A universal is said of many things; a articular is not. Stated otherwise, while a universal may have different instances, it makes no sense to speak of different instances of a particular. Furthermore, if the universal is strictly identical with the particular, it seems to be no less of a “this something” than the concrete particular itself. And this would make Aristotle’s view as “impossible” as the view of the Platonists who treated a universal as a particular beyond its particular instances. That the separation of a universal form from a particular turns a forms itself into a particular substances is one of Aristotle’s most important criticisms of Plato, which predates the criticism according to which realists tacitly assimilate a general term to a proper names, assuming that a general term signifies a particular entitiy. This criticism suggests, again, that a universal cannot be strictly identical with a particular. Aristotle is trying to work out a middle position between dualism and strict identity. Aristotle does not want to attribute to a universal an irreducible ontological status. A universal cannot exist as a thing in its own right. There is no universal per se. Aristotle wants to give to a universals a weak sort of ontological status which cannot be reduced entirely to the status of a particular, but which does not entail independent existence from a particular. Aristotle’s motivation for attributing to a universals a weak ontological status, and for coining “katholou” in the first place, is epistemological. Aristotle wants to allow there to be a knowledge of a universal, which is potentially knowledge of a particular (and not of some “extra” entity), but which is not knowledge of any particular in particular. So although knowledge of the universal is not about a definite thing (it is not tied to one particular), the knowledge of the particular is potentially there. When we talk about a universal, we do talk about a particular and not of some “extra” entity. We assert something of each of them, not of some other thing in addition to or apart from them. Since universal knowledge involves the ability to know any particular that falls under the universal, it is comparable to a template that can be filled by any particular of a relevant sort. The universal knowledge is like a checque that can be cashed by anyone who can show that they meet certain qualifications. Science is made up of such checque. It is difficult to give a positive account of the precise nature of the distinction that holds between a particular and a universal. One may appeal to the notion of interdependence which can be seen as a middle ground between dualism and identity. Aristotle claims that knowledge and demonstration do not require there to be a form, or a things apart from (para) the many. It requires there to be something that holds of (kata) many. Aristotle is committed to a tenuous realism. He views a universal as a real entitiy but lacking numerical oneness. The notion of interdependence is similar to Duns Scotus’s notion of a formal distinction. A formal distinction is a real distinction (i.e., a distinction which exists independently of thought) but it is not a distinction between two “res,” one of which can exist even when the other does not. Rather, it is a distinction between two aspects of a thing. Scotus calls them a “formalitas” and “realitas.’ They are really the same but definitionally independent from one another. So, a formal distinction enables us to distinguish between an aspect within one thing which is really the same but which need not be such that what is true of one must be true of another. Scotus’s formal distinction appears to be particularly appropriate in the context of Aristotle’s philosophy, since it allows us to say that the only independently existing thing is a particular thing – but a particular thing of a certain sort, “this somethings”. This particular is both most real and most knowable, but within it we can distinguish between two aspects (that of a “this” and that of a “something”) and consider a particular either in respect of its particularity (haecceitas) or as falling under a universal. Aristotle seems to be the first philosopher to recognize and to exploit the point that the way something is described or referred to makes a crucial difference to the truth and falsity of what is said. Scotus’s formal distinction is fiercely criticized by Occham. Occam’s criticism turns on the point that two contradictory predicates or properties cannot be simultaneously true of aspects that are really the same. Scotus can escape the criticism by insisting that contradictory predicates cannot belong to aspects that are in no way distinct, but they can belong to aspects really the same but *formally* distinct. Nonetheless, Occaam’s criticism raises the question concerning the robustness of a formal distinction. Two aspects of the same thing must be ontologically robust enough to serve as property bearers but not robust enough to be reduced to things in their own right. Aristotle starts to use the “hêi” or “qua” locution, which plays a crucial role in understanding his views on scientific knowledge. Science cannot regard the particular in all its non-repeatable particularity and uniqueness (particular qua particular). Science can regard the particular under a definite aspect that it shared with other particulars. Aristotle’s commitment to the position that the particular is always a particular of a certain sort (e.g. the particular horse is always a horse) might strike us a trivial. Grice strongly denies that its triviality is unenlightening. It should make us think twice before we engage ourselves in the longstanding dispute over the ontological status of a universal. From Aristotle’s perspective, there does not appear to be any particularly deep problem about the ontological status of a universal (e.g. his species and genera). On his view, what two particular horses have in common is their being horses, nothing more or nothing less. Nothing less, since Aristotle does not think that particular horses have nothing in common except that they are thought of as horses. They are thought as horses because they are horses. And nothing more, since Aristotle does not think that what two horses have in common is somehow over and above the fact that they are horses. A particular horse is a horse in virtue of itself. One can go on to explain what it is to be a horse, but this does not require the introduction of any additional entitiy. To hunt for something beyond the fact that a particular horse is a horse is to go to an ontological wild goose chase. See: Inwood on the commensurate universal in Aristotle, and Tweedale on Aristotle’s universals. Inwood is concerned with the primary universality as co-extensionality, when the major premise is a universal proposition. Serious ontological discussion was usually avoided at Oxford, except if you had to criticise a New-World philosopher as Warnock does in Metaphysics in logic, pointing out the many mistakes he perceives in Quines hasty treatment of the Subjects of universals. It would be interesting to trace the earliest concern by Grice and his Play Group about universals. Surely it wasnt a concern of the Play Group leader Austin. It was more of a concern of Ryle, of a previous generation (“Systematically misleading expressions.”). I think that in this respect New World philosophers or logicians are to blame. In what Grice calls the “American School of Latter-Day Nominalists,” there was one credo that kept them united: their hatred for the proposition! So one has to distinguish between abstract, and universal. As a Lit. Hum,, that Strawson is not, Grice is more inclined always to go back to Aristotle. Ordinary language may be good, but after all, Aristotle did not speak it! He spoke koine. At the Oxford of Grices generation, to quote Plato is a no no. But to quote koine Aristotle is fine. So it is only natural that Grice goes back to what Aristotle says about abstractions and universals in “Categoriae,” and if you can quote him in Grecian, the better, because Grice knew that New-World logicians will not. Grice introduces atomon, individuum, individual in terms of izzing and hazzing. x is an atomon, individuum, individual iff nothing other than x izz x. Strawson is Strawson, or Austin is Austin.  x is a proton atomon, individuum primum, primary individual iff x is an atomon, individuum, individual, and nothing hazz x. There is a stark contrast between an atomon, individuum, individual, singular, and a particular (kathekaston, particulare) proper. Grice proposes this formally. (∀x)(x is individual, atomon, individuum) iff ◻ (∀y) (y izzes x) ⊃ (x izzes y). Similarly, Grice proposes a formal approach to a particular. (∀x) x izz particular (kathekaston, particulare) iff ◻ (∀y). (x izzes predicable of y) ⊃ (x izzes y and y izzes x). Grice proposes a formal approach to a singular. (∀x) (x izzes tode ti, a this somewhat, singulare), ⊃ (x izzes individual, atomon, individuum. Once defined, Grice can play with them. (∀x)(x izzes a particular (kathekaston, particulare) ⊃ (x izzes individual, atomon, individuum).  The converse of the above is not a theorem. Not every individuum is a kathekaston. It is important, at Oxford, never to confuse an individual with a particular. An individual is an item that cannot be truly izz-predicated of another item.  An individual, e. g. an individual white ("to ti leukon", Cat. 2.1a27), may be hazz-predicable of another thing. A particular (kathekaston) on the other hand, cannot be neither izz-predicated nor hazz-predicated of any other item. While each particular is an individual, the converse implication does not hold. A particular cannot receive a property unless the particular is something essentially. A particular must be something or other definable in order to even have a property.  A particular must be tode ti, a this some what, where the ti is the something definable that tode. Tode ti is sometimes used so that ti is the something that tode picks out.  It may also involve quantification over an essence, or essential property, of the tode. Tode may pick out the essence, and the ti range over this or that singular or particular endowed with that essence. Austin is tode ti may thus generalise either Austin is this man or Austin is a man. As Grice notes, in Categoriae, a primary substance, prote ousia, substantia prima is for Aristotle an individual tode ti (Cat. 1b6-9 3b10-15). The substantia prima, indeed, the tode ti, is the particular or singular (e. g., a particular or singular man), which is not predicable of anything further. Only a substantia prima is a this, i.e. a, a singular, a singleton, a particular.  A particular man is a this. No this is predicable of this this. For Aristotle, however, matter (hyle, materia) is not tode ti, and hence matter is not a primary substance (substantia prima). The matter of which a particular is made is not a this. Grice knew of Cohen through Code. Grice was obsessed with this or that. Consider, Grice notes, an utterance, out of the blue, of such a sentence as The philosopher in the conference is intelligent. As there are, obviously, many philosophers at many conferences in the great big world, if the addressee is to treat such a sentence  as being of the form The S is P and as being, on that account, ripe for Russellian  expansion, the addressee might do well to treat it as exemplifying a more specific quasi-demonstrative form, The A which is φ is P, where φ represents an epithet to be identified in a particular context of utterance, φ being a sort of quasi-demonstrative. Standardly, to identify  the reference of φ for a particular utterance of The philosopher in the conference is sarcastic, the addressee  would proceed via the identification of a particular philosopher as being a good candidate for being the philosopher meant, and would identify the candidate of φ by finding in the candidate a feature, e. g., that of being in this city, Oxford, which could be used to yield a composite epithet (philosopher at the conference at Oxford), which would in turn fill the bill of being the epithet which the utterer has in mind as being uniquely satisfied by the philosopher selected as candidate. Determining the reference of phi would, standardly, involve determining what feature the utterer might have in mind as being uniquely instantiated by an actual object, or philosopher, and this in turn would standardly involve satisfying oneself that some particular feature actually is uniquely satisfied by a particular actual object (e. g. a particular philosopher). Grice distinguishes individuum, particulare, and universalium. Short and Lewis have it as ‘partĭcŭlāris, e, adj. particular. Short and Lewis render ‘particularis’ as of or concerning a part, partial, particular. Propositiones aliae universales, aliae particulares, ADogm. Plat. 3, p. 35, 34: partĭcŭlārĭter is particularly, ADogm. Plat. 3, p. 33, 32; so ogeneraliter, Firm. Math. 1, 5 fin.; “ouniversaliter,” Aug. Retract. 1, 5 fin. A universalium is an ab-stractum. Grices concern with universalia can be traced back to his reading of Aristotles Categoriæ, for his Lit. Hum., and later with Austin. Other than the substantia prima, it may be said that anything else ‒ attribute, etc.  ‒ belongs in the realm of universalia qua predicable. As such, a univeralium is not a spatio-temporal continuant. However, Grices category shift allows a universalium as a Subjects of discourse. The topic is approached formally by means of the notion of order. First-order predicate calculus ranges over this or that spatio-temporal continuant individual, in Strawsons use of the term. A higher-order predicate calculus ranges over this or that predicate and beyond ‒ as such, a universalium can only be referred to in a second-order calculus. This is Grices attempt to approach the Aristotelian and mediæval problem in pragmatic key. A higher category (anything but prote ousia is a universalium.  This is Grice doing history of philosophy. His main concern is with a universalium in re as an abstract entity. He proposes an exploration of universalium in re as a response to Extensionalism, so fashionable, he thinks, in the New World, within what he calls The School of Latter-Day Nominalists. Grice has to be careful here since he is well aware that Bennett has called him a meaning-nominalist. ἱππότης (B), ητος, ἡ,  A.horse-nature, the concept of horse, Antisth. et Pl. ap. Simp.in Cat.208.30,32, Sch.AristId.p.167F. Strawson, “Particular and general,” crediting Grice twice. Abstracta, v. abstractum. Refs.: The main work by Grice at Oxford is with Austin (folder 15) and Strawson (folder 23). Grice, “Aristotle’s Categoriae,” S. II, c. 6-f. 15 and c. 6, f. 23, BANC.  

ariskant: Grice is just be a kantian. Grice gives seminars on Ariskant and Kantotle. Baker majors in French and philosophy and does research at the Sorbonne. Oddly, Grice gives a nice example of ‘philosopher’ as meaning ‘addicted to general reflections about life.; In the context where it occurs, Grices implicature is Stevensonian. If Stevenson says that an athlete is usually tall, a philosopher may occasionally be inclined to reflect about life in general – a birrelist -! Grice’s alternate definition, ‘engaged in philosophical studies,’ is circular. At least the previous one defines philosophy by other than itself. Cfr. Quixote to Sancho: You are quite a philosopher, meaning a Stoic, actually. The idea of Grice of philosophy is based on the the idea of philosophy that Lit. Hum. instils. It is a unique experience, unknown in the New World, our actually outside Oxford, or post-Grice, where a classicist is not seen as a serious philosopher. Becoming a tutorial fellow in philosophy and later university lecturer in philosophy, stressed his attachment. Grice has to regarded by his tutee as a philosopher simpliciter, as oppoosed to a prof: the Waynflete is seen as a metaphysician, the White is seen as moralist, the Wykeham is seen as a logician, and the Wilde as a philosophical psychologist. For Heidegger, "the greatest living philosopher," for Grice, philosophy is the wisdom of love, as philology is the word of love. Liddell and Scott have “φιλοσοφία,: which they render as “love of knowledge, pursuit thereof, speculation,” “ἡ φ. κτῆσις ἐπιστήμης,” defined as ἄσκησις ἐπιτηδείου τέχνης, Stoic. in Placit. 1 Prooem.;  systematic, methodical treatment of a subjects, “ἐμπειρίᾳ μέτιθι καὶ φιλοσοφίᾳ; ἡ περὶ τὰς ἔριδας φ., scientific treatment of argumentation, “ἡ περὶ τοὺς λόγους φ.;” the study of oratory; pl., οἱ ἐν ταῖς φ. πολὺν χρόνον διατρίψαντες Pl. Tht. 172c; τέχναι καὶ φ.; also as ‘philosophy,’ “ἱστορία φ. ἐστὶν ἐκ παραδειγμάτων,” “διὰ τῆς φ. καὶ κενῆς ἀπάτης,” “τοῖς ἐν φιλοσοφίᾳ ζῶσιν; “Πλάτων καὶ φ.;” “ἡ θεία φ.;” “ἐκείνου τῇ φ.; “ἡ περὶ τὰ ἀνθρώπεια φ.;” “ἡ τῶν Ἰταλικῶν φ.;” “pl., αἱ εἰρημέναι φ.;” “ἡ Ἰωνικὴ φ.; “ἡ δογματική, Ἀκαδημαϊκή, σκεπτικὴ φ.; “ὁ Ἐμπεδοκλῆς ἐν ἀρχῇ τῆς φ.” “ἡ πρώτη φ.,” with striking originality, metaphysic, Arist. Metaph. 1026a24. Just one sense, but various ambiguities remain in philosopher, as per the two definitions by Grice. Grice is addicted to general speculations about life, and Grice is a member of The Oxford Philosophical Society. Grice loves  to combine Kant with Aristotle. So the best way to approach the meta-ethics of Grice is by exploring the treatment by Kant of Aristotle. Deontology means teleology. Eventually, Grice embraces a hedonistic eudaimonism, if rationally approved. Grice knows how to teach ethics: he teaches Kant as if he is teaching Aristotle, and vice versa. His tutees would say, Here come [sic] Kantotle. Grice is obsessed with Kantotle. He would teach one or the other as an ethics requirement. Back at Oxford, the emphasis is of course Aristotle, but he is aware of some trends to introduce Kant in the Lit.Hum. curriculum, not with much success. Strawson does his share with Kants pure reason in The bounds of sense, but White professors of moral philosophy are usually not too keen on the critique by Kant of practical reason. Grice is fascinated that an Irishman, back in 1873, cares to translate (“for me”) all that Kant has to say about the eudaimonism and hedonism of Aristotle. An Oxonian philosopher is expected to be a utilitarian, as Hare is, or a Hegelian, and that is why Grice prefers, heterodoxical as he is, to be a Kantian rationalist instead. But Grice cannot help being Aristotelian, Hardie having instilled the “Eth. Nich.” on him at Corpus. While he can’t read Kant in German, Grice uses Abbott’s Irish vernacular. Note the archaic metaphysic sic in singular.  More Kant. Since Baker can read the vernacular even less than Grice, it may be good to review the editions. It all starts when Abbott thinks that his fellow Irishmen are unable to tackle Kant in the vernacular. Abbott’s thing comes out in 1873: Kant’s critique of practical reason and other works on the theory of tthics, with Grice quipping. Oddly, I prefer his other work! Grice collaborates with Baker mainly on work on meta-ethics seen as an offspring, alla Kant, of philosophical psychology. Akrasia or egkrateia is one such topic. Baker contributes to PGRICE, a festschrift for Grice, with an essay on the purity, and alleged lack thereof, of this or that morally evaluable motive – rhetorically put: do ones motives have to be pure? For Grice morality cashes out in self-love, self-interest, and desire. Baker also contributes to a volume on Grice’s honour published by Palgrave, Meaning and analysis: essays on Grice. Baker organises of a symposium on the thought of Grice for the APA, the proceedings of which published in The Journal of Philosophy, with Bennett as chair, contributions by Baker and Grandy, commented by Stalnaker andWarner. Grice explores with Baker problems of egcrateia and the reduction of duty to self-love and interest. Refs.: The obvious keyword is “Kant,” – especially in the Series III on the doctrines, in collaboration with Baker. There are essays on the Grundlegung, too. The keyword for “Kantotle,” and the keywords for ‘free,’ and ‘freedom,’ and ‘practical reason,’ and ‘autonomy, are also helpful. Some of this material in “Actions and events.” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

avowal:  ‘avowal’ as a philosophical lexeme may not invite an immediate correlate in the Graeco-Roman, ultimately Grecian, tradition. ‘Confessio’ comes to mind, but this is not what Grice is thinking about. He is more concerned with issues of privileged access and incorrigibility (or corrigibility), the alleged immediacy of a first-person report of one’s feelings. If the thing is followed by a ‘that’-clause, the better. But the idiom ‘avowal’ does occur in Grice’s prose often, especially in the early stages, when scepticism about incorrigibility and privileged access, but especially the former, came under attack. Perhaps, Grice thinks, there is no ‘incorrigibility’ in the avowal. And if so, what gives. The issue is of some importance in his account of the act of communication. Grice loves to play with an utterer doubting as to whether he means that p or q. As he notes, in a conversational milieu, the thing is ridiculous. I want you to bring me a paper tomorrow. You mean a newspaper. You very well know what I mean. But perhaps you do not. Are you sure you mean a philosophy paper when you utter, ‘I want you to bring a paper by Friday’? Of course, in case of self-deception, which is a bit like lack of egcrateia, it may well be that the utterer does not know what he ‘desires,’ even if he knows what he ‘intends.’ Freud and Foucault run galore. The topoic will interest a collaborator of Grice’s, Pears, with his concept of ‘motivated irrationality.’ Grice likes to discuss a category mistake. Cf. Grice: I may be categorically mistaken but I am not categorically confused. It is only natural that if Grice is interested on Aristotle on pleasure he would be interested on Aristotle on pain. This is very philosophical, as Urmson agrees. Is pleasure just the absence of pain? Liddell and Soctt have “λύπη,” which they render as pain of body, oἡδον; also, sad plight or condition, but also pain of mind, grief;  ά; δῆγμα δὲ λύπης οὐδὲν ἐφ᾽ ἧπαρ προσικνεῖται; τί γὰρ καλὸν ζῆν βίοτον, ὃς λύπας φέρει; ἐρωτικὴ λ.’ λύπας προσβάλλειν; λ. φέρειν τινί; oχαρά. Oddly, Grice goes back to pain in Princeton, since it is the example by Smart in his identtiy thesis. Take pain. Surely, Grice tells the Princetonians, it sounds harsh, to echo Berkeley, to say that it is the brain of Smith being in this or that a state which is justified by insufficient evidence. Oddly, I am in pain vs. Ouch! is the example given by Barnes, of Corpus, for The Jowett, to apply the thesis by Ogden on communication as emotional. Grice criticises this in Prolegomena. Surely we have to qualify the idea that to say ‘x is good’ is to approve of it. Pain is an excellent example for Grice of a privileged access alleged incorrigible avowal, and stage 0 in his creature progression. By uttering Ouch!, under voluntary control, U means, iconically, that he is in pain. Pain should fall under keyword: emotion, as anger. Cf. Aristotle on emotions in De anima, Rhetorica, and Eth. Nich. At Oxford, if you are a classicist, you are not a philosopher. So Grice never explores the Stoic, say, approach to pain, or lack thereof! Walter Pater does. Refs.: “Can I have a pain in my tail?” BANC.

axiological: Grice sometimes enjoys sounding pretentious and use ‘the’ indiscriminately:‘the good,’ ‘the rational,’ ‘the valuable,’ and ‘the axiological’. Of course, while sticking with ‘value,’ Grice plays with Grecian ‘time.’ Lewis and Short have ‘vălor,’ from ‘valeo,’ which they render as ‘value,’ adding that it is supposed to translate in Gloss. Lab, Grecian ‘time.’ ‘valor, τιμή, Gloss. Lab.’ The verb, ‘valere,’ or ‘vălĕo,’ which of course algo gives English ‘valid,’ that Grice overuses, is said by Lewis and Short to be cognate with or 2, v. n. kindr. with Sanscr. bála, vis, robur, balishtas, fortissimus; cf. debilis” and they render as “to be strong.” So one has to be careful here. “Axiology” is a German thing, and not used in Clifton or Oxford, where they prefere ‘arete,’ or ‘virtus.’ The history of a general theory of value in Graeco-Roman philosophy is an open book! Note that Grice is dismissing Hare who in his “Language of Morals” very clearly distinguishes between the deontic ‘ought’ and the ‘value’ judgement (‘good.’ For ‘good’ can have, say, an aesthetic use: ‘that painting is good,’ the food is good). The sexist ‘virtus’ of the Romans perhaps did a disservice to Greek ‘arete,’ but Grice hardly uses ‘arete,’ himself. It is etymologically unrelated to ‘agathon,’ yet the rumour has that ‘arete,’ qua ‘excellence,’ is the ‘aristos,’ or the superlative of ‘agathon.’ Since Aristotle is into the ‘mesotes,’ he should not worry. Liddell and Scott have “ἀρετή [α^]” which they render simpliciter as “goodness, excellence, of any kind,” while adding that “in Hom. esp. of manly qualities”: “ποδῶν ἀρετὴν ἀναφαίνων” Il.20.411; “ἀμείνων παντοίας ἀρετὰς ἠμὲν πόδας ἠδὲ μάχεσθαι καὶ νόον” 15.642; so of the gods, “τῶν περ καὶ μείζων ἀ. τιμή τε βίη τε” 9.498; also of women, Od.2.206; ἀ. εἵνεκα for valour, Hdt.8.92: pl., ἀ. ἀπεδείκνυντο displayed brave deeds, Id.1.176, 9.40. But when Liddell and Scott give the Aristotelian references, indeed Platonic-Aristotelian, they do render ‘arete’ as ‘value.’ generally, excellence, “ἡ ἀ. τελείωσίς τις” Arist. Metaph.1021b20, cf.EN1106a15, etc.; of persons, “ἄνδρα πὺξ ἀρετὰν εὑρόντα” Pi.O.7.89, cf. P.4.187, B.9.13, etc.; “τὸ φρονεῖν ἀ. μεγίστη” Heraclit. 112: in pl., forms of excellence, “μυρίαι ἀνδρῶν ἀ.” B.13.8, cf. Gorg. Fr.8, etc.; “δικαστοῦ αὕτη ἀ.” Pl.Ap.18a; esp. moral virtue, Democr. 179, 263, al., Gorg.Fr.6; opp. κακία, X.Mem.2.1.21, cf.Pl.R.500d, Lg. 963a, 963c sq., D.60.17, Arist.EN1102a6, Pol.1295a37, etc.; good nature, kindness, etc., E.Fr.163. We shouldn’t be so concerned about this, were not for the fact that Grice kept a copy of Foot’s “Virtues and vices,” so he did display a bit of an interest in what Foot had to say about this. Grice knew that when he heard the phrases value system, or belief system, he was conversing with a relativist! So he plays jocular here. If a value is not a concept, a value system at least is not what Davidson calls a conceptual scheme! However, in “The conception of value” (henceforth, “Conception”) Grice does argue that value IS a concept, and thus part of Quines conceptual scheme. Hilary Putnam congratulated Grice on this in “Facts and values,” crediting Baker – that is “Judy” – into the bargain! Utilitarianism, as exemplified by Bentham, denies that our common moral intuitions are to be taken literally. Bentham assumes an axiological conceptual scheme where happiness is the maximal value, and where happiness (eudaimonism) is understood according to hedonism – vide Capaldi, “The analytic conversation.” (Capaldi studied at Oxford with R. Harré. The idea of a system of values (cf. system of ends) is meant to unify the goals of the agent in terms of the pursuit of eudæmonia. Cf. Foot, morality as a system of conditional and suppositional imperatives. Grice quotes from Berlin of Corpus. Oppenheim draws the distinction usually attributed to Hume between descriptive and value judgements and points to the existence of a chasm across which no logical bridge can be thrown.     He maintains, if I understand him rightly, that the predicate rational may legitimately be used only to describe judgements or beliefs about matters of fact or logical relations – for example, about facts or events, including such issues as whether a given means is adequate for the fulfilment of a given end or whether a particular policy is compatible with some other policy pursued by the same agent, and the like. But the term rational cannot, I gather, be applied to ends themselves; those are neither rational nor irrational, since values are not the kind of entity to which the conception of rationality is applicable. I have much sympathy with this view, which I myself once used to hold.  But it seems to me that negative instances can be produced which falsify the proposition that this gap between means and ends is logically unbridgeable. Let me suggest one.     Suppose I meet a man who is in the habit of pushing pins into other people. I ask him why he does this, he says that it gives him pleasure. I ask him whether it is the fact that he causes pain that gives him pleasure. He replies that he does not mind whether he causes pain or not, since what gives him pleasure is the physical sensation of driving a pin into human bodies. I ask him whether he is aware that his actions cause pain. He says that he is. I ask him whether he would not feel pain if others did this to him. He agrees that he would. I ask him whether he would allow this to happen. He says that he would seek to prevent it by every means that he could command. I ask him whether he does not think that others must feel pain when he drives pins into them, and whether he should do to others what he would try to prevent them from doing to him. He says that he does not understand. Pins driven into him cause him pain and he wishes to prevent this. Pins driven by him into others do not cause him pain, but on the contrary, positive pleasure, and he therefore wishes to continue to do it. I ask him whether the fact that he causes pain to other people does not seem to him to be relevant to the question of whether it is desirable to drive pins into people or not. He says he cannot see what I am driving at: what possible difference can pain caused to others, or the absence of it, make to the desirability of obtaining pleasure in the way that he seeks to obtain it? I ask him what it is that gives him pleasure in this particular activity. He replies that he likes driving pins into resilient bodies. I ask whether he would derive equal pleasure from driving pins into, say, tennis balls. He says that he would, that what he drives his pins into, human beings or tennis balls, makes little difference to him – the pleasure is similar, and he is quite prepared to have tennis balls substituted, if that is what I want; he cannot understand my strange concern – what possible difference can it make whether his pins perforate living men or tennis balls? At this point, I begin to suspect that he is in some way deranged.  I do not say (with Hume), Here is a man with a very different scale or moral values from my own. Values are not susceptible to argument. I can disagree but not reason with him, as I should be inclined to say of a man who believes in hara-kiri or genocide. I rather incline to the belief that the pin-pusher who is puzzled by my questions is to be classified with homicidal lunatics and should be confined in an asylum and not in an ordinary prison. I do this because a man who cannot see that the suffering of pain is an issue of major importance in human life – that it matters at all – who cannot see why anyone should wish to know – still less mind – whether pain is caused or not, provided he does not suffer it himself, is virtually beyond the reach of communication from the world occupied by me and my fellow men. His whole pattern of experience is remote from mine; communication is as unattainable as it is with a man who thinks that he is Julius Caesar or that he is dead or that he is a doorknob, like the characters in the stories of Hoffman. This seems to me to show that recognition of some values – however general and however few – enters into the normal definition of what constitutes a sane human being. We may find that these ends do not remain constant if we look far enough in time and space; yet this does not alter the fact that beings totally lacking such ends can scarcely be described as human; still less as rational. In this sense, then, pursuit of, or failure to pursue, certain ends can be regarded as evidence of – and in extreme cases part of the definition of – irrationality. Although in general I agree with Oppenheim, if my example is valid, it is incompatible with the general proposition which I take to be the basis of his view of the relation of facts to ends, descriptive judgements to those of values; it would demand a radical modification of this view. I do not, of course, wish to claim any originality for my position (which owes as much to Aristotle as to Kant), only validity.Grices implicature is that rationalism and axiology are incompatible, and he wants to cancel that! So the keyword here is rationalistic axiology, in the neo-Kantian continental vein, with a vengeance! Grice arrives at value (optimum, deeming) via Peirces meaning. But then theres the truth-value. The sorry story, as Grice calls it, of Deontic logic faces Jørgensens dilemma. Jørgensens dilemma is best seen as a trilemma, Grice says. The following three claims are incompatible: An inference requires that each element (the premise and the conclusion) has what Boole, Peirce, and Frege call a truth value.But an imperative dos not have a truth-value. It is alleged that there may be an inference between this or that imperative. Responses to this problem involve rejecting one of the three premises. The input-output logics reject the first premise. They provide inference mechanism on elements without presupposing that these elements have a truth value. Alternatively, one can deny the second premise. One way to do this is to distinguish between the buletic itself and a doxastic about it. According to this response, only the doxastic about the buletic has a satisfactory, indeed doxastically satisfactory, value. Finally, one can deny the third premise. But this is to deny that there is a logic of imperatives worth investigating. Grice preferred to define value =df. satisfactoriness. Thus, .p can be 0 or 1, !p can be 0 or 1. The form of the utterance will guide you as to how to read satisfactoriness, which is my jargon for value applicable both to an indicative and an imperative. With satisfactoriness, Grice offers a variant to Hofstadter and McKinseys satisfaction. In their On the Logic of Imperatives, a syntax is elaborated for the imperative mode, using satisfaction. We understand an imperative to be satisfied (as The door is closed may also be said to be satisfied iff the door is closed) iff what is commanded is the case. Thus the fiat Let the door be closed! is satisfied if the door is closed. We shall thus refer to the satisfaction of an imperative. According to Hofstadter and McKinsey, the function is a satisfaction-function.  This or that unary operator and this or that dyadic operator become this or that satisfaction-function. As Grice puts it, an inferential rule, which flat rationality is the capacity to apply, is not an arbitrary rule. An inferential rule picks out this or that transitions of acceptance in which transmission of the predicate satisfactory (buletic/doxastic) is guaranteed or (in this or that non-deductive case) to be expected. As Grice notes, since the sentential form will indicate what species of value is involved, he uses the generic satisfactory. He imports into the object-language the phrase It is buletically satisfactory that and It is doxastically satisfactory that !p is buletically satisfactory just in case !p is buletically satisfactory.  ⊢p is doxastically satisfactory just in case ⊢ p is doxastically satisfactory. As Grice introduces it is acceptable that (with the syntactical provisions which he is using); on the buletic side, It is acceptable that !p is doxastically satisfactory just in case !p is buletically satisfactory is doxastically satisfactory. Grice goes on to provide this or that generic or  generalized versions of this or that  satisfactoriness-functor, using φ and ψ to represent sentences (in either mode). Using 1-b/d for satisfactory and 0-b/d for unsatisfactory Grice stipulates. φ and ψ is 1-b/d just in case φ 1-b/d and ψ is 1-b/d. φ or ψ is 1-b/d just in case one of the pair, φ and ψ, is 1-b/d. if φ, ψ is satisfactory just in case either φ is 0-b/d or ψ is 0-b/d. There are, however, a number of points to be made. It is not fully clear to Grice just how strong the motivation would be for introducing this or that mode-neutral connective  ‒ co-ordinators and, or, and sub-ordinator if  ‒ nor whether, if this or that connective is introduced, this or that restriction should not be imposed. The problematic examples are be, of course, the mixed-mode ones (those in which one clause is buletic and the other doxastic). Grice, an Austinian at heart, finds it natural to look for guidance from ordinary language. The beast is filthy and do not touch it (.p and ~!p) and The beast is filthy and I shall not touch it (.p and ~!p) seem all right to Grice. But the commutated Do not touch the beast and it is filthy (~!q and .p) seems dubious. Touch the beast and it will bite you (!p and .q), while idiomatic, is not, at the implicatum level, a conjunction, nor a genuine invitation to touch the beast. Smith is taking a bath or leave the bath-room door open (.p or !q) is, perhaps, intelligible. But the commutated Leave the bath-room door open or Smith is taking a bath (!q or .p) seems considerably less so. It is perhaps worth noting that, in this or that non-mixed case, satisfactoriness is specifiable as buletic satisfactoriness or doxastic satisfactoriness. But, for this or that mixed case, no such specification would be available unless we make a special case, as Grice does in Method, for the buletic mode to be dominant over the doxastic mode. The crunch comes, however, with NOT, or negation, one of the four possible unary satisfactoriness-functor, which Grice has been carefully ignoring. not⊢p (~⊢p) might, perhaps, be treated as satisfactoriness-functional/conditional equivalent to ⊢ not-p (⊢~p). But what about not!p (~!p)? Should we treat is as buletically-satisfactoriness-functionally/conditionally equivalent to !notp (!~p)? And what do we say in a case like, perhaps, Let it be that I now put my hand on my head (!p) or Let it be that my bicycle faces north (!p), in which, at least on occasion, it seems to be that neither !p nor !~p is either buletically satisfactory or buletically unsatisfactory? And what buletic satisfactory value do we assign to ~!p (how do we now introduce not?) and to ~!~p (how do we go on to eliminate not)? Do we proscribe this or that form altogether, for every cases? But that would seem to be a pity, since ~ ! ~p seems to be quite promising as a representation for you may (permissive) do alpha that satisfies p; i.e., the utterer explicitly conveys his refusal to prohibit his addressee A doing alpha. Do we disallow embedding of (or iterating) this or that form? But that (again if we use ~!p and ~!~p  to represent may) seems too restrictive. Again, if !p is neither buletically satisfactory nor buletically unsatisfactory (the utterer could care less) do we assign a value other than 1 or 0 to !p (buletically neuter, 0.5). Or do we say, echoing Quine, that we have a buletically satisfactoriness value gap? These and other such problems would require careful consideration. Yet Grice cannot see that those problems would prove insoluble, any more than this or that analogous problem connected with Strawsons presupposition (Dont arrest the intruder!) are insoluble. In Strawsons case, the difficulty is not so much to find a solution as to select the best solution from those which present themselves. Grice takes up the topic of a calculus in connection with the introduction rule and the elimination rule of a modal such as must. We might hope to find, for each member of a certain family of modalities, an introduction rule and an elimination rule which would be analogous to the rules available for classical logical constants. Suggestions are not hard to come by. Let us suppose that we are seeking to provide such a pair of rules for the particular modality of necessity ‒ necessary (□). For an introduction rule (□, +) Grice considers the following (Grice thinks equivalent) forms: if φ is demonstrable, □φ is demonstrable. Provided φ is dependent on no assumptions, derive φ from □φ . For an elimination rule (□, -), Grice considers From □φ derive φ. It is to be understood, of course, that the values of the syntactical variable φ would contain either a buletic or a doxastic mode markers. Both !p and .p would be proper substitutes for φ but p would not. Grice wonders: [W]hat should be said of Takeuti’s conjecture (roughly) that the nature of the introduction rule determines the character of the elimination rule? There seems to be no particular problem about allowing an introduction rule which tells us that, if it is established in P’s personalised system that φ, it is necessary, with respect to P, that φ is doxastically satisfactory (establishable). The accompanying elimination rule is, however, slightly less promising. If we suppose such a rule to tell us that, if one is committed to the idea that it is necessary, with respect to P, that φ, one is also committed to whatever is expressed by φ, we shall be in trouble. For such a rule is not acceptable. φ will be a buletic expression such as Let it be that Smith eats his hat. And my commitment to the idea that Smiths system requires him to eat his hat does not ipso facto involve me in accepting (volitively) Let Smith eat his hat. But if we take the elimination rule rather as telling us that, if it is necessary, with respect to X, that let X eat his hat, then let X eat his hat possesses satisfactoriness-with-respect-to-X, the situation is easier. For this person-relativised version of the rule seems inoffensive, even for Takeuti, we hope.  Grice, following Mackie, uses absolutism, as opposed to relativism, which denies the rational basis to attitude ascriptions (but cf. Hare on Subjectsivism). Grice is concerned with the absence of a thorough discussion of value by English philosophers, other than Hare (and he is only responding to Mackie!). Continental philosophers, by comparison, have a special discipline, axiology, for it! Similarly, a continental-oriented tradition Grice finds in The New World in philosophers of a pragmatist bent, such as Carus. Grice wants to say that rationality is a value, because it is a faculty that a creature (human) displays to adapt and survive to his changing environments. The implicature of the title is that values have been considered in the English philosophical tradition, almost alla Nietzsche, to belong to the realm irrational. Grice grants that axiological implicatum rests on a PRE-rational propension. While Grice could play with “the good” in the New World, as a Lit. Hum. he knew he had to be slightly more serious. The good is one of the values, but what is valuing? Would the New Worlders understand valuing unattached to the pragmatism that defines them? Grice starts by invoking Hume on his bright side: the concept of value, versus the conception of value. Or rather, how the concept of value derives from the conception of value. A distinction that would even please Aquinas (conceptum/conceptio), and the Humeian routine. Some background for his third Carus lecture. He tries to find out what Mackie means when he says that a value is ultimately Subjectsive. What about inter-Subjectsive, and constructively objective? Grice constructs absolute value out of relative value. But once a rational pirot P (henceforth, P – Grice liked how it sounded like Locke’s parrot) constructs value, the P assigns absolute status to rationality qua value. The P cannot then choose not to be rational at the risk of ceasing to exist (qua person, or essentially rationally human agent). A human, as opposed to a person, assigns relative value to his rationality. A human is accidentally rational. A person is necessarily so. A distinction seldom made by Aristotle and some of his dumbest followers obsessed with the modal-free adage, Homo rationale animal. hūmānus (old form: hemona humana et hemonem hominem dicebant, Paul. ex Fest. p. 100 Müll.; cf. homo I.init.), a, um, adj. homo, of or belonging to man, human. Grice considers the etymology of ‘person,’ from ‘persōna,’ from, according to Gabius Bassus ap. Gell. 5, 7, 1 sq., f. ‘persŏno,’ to sound through, with the second syllable lengthened.’ Falsa est (finitio), si dicas, Equus est animal rationale: nam est equus animal, sed irrationale, Quint.7,3,24:homo est animal rationale; “nec si mutis finis voluptas, rationalibus quoque: quin immo ex contrario, quia mutis, ideo non rationalibus;” “a rationali ad rationale;” “τὸ λογικόν ζῷον,” ChrysiStoic.3.95; ἀρεταὶ λ., = διανοητικαί, oἠθικαί, Arist. EN1108b9; “λογικός, ή, όν, (λόγος), ζῶον λόγον ἔχον NE, 1098a3-5. λόγον δὲ μόνον ἄνθρωπος ἔχει τῶν ζῴων, man alone of all animals possesses speech, from the Politics. Grice takes the stratification of values by Hartmann much more seriously than Barnes. Grice plays with rational motivation. He means it seriously. The motivation is the psychological bite, but since it is qualified by rational, it corresponds to the higher more powerful bit of the soul, the rational soul. There are, for Grice, the Grecians, Kantotle and Plathegel, three souls: the vegetal, the animal, and the rational. As a matter of history, Grice reaches value (in its guises of optimum and deeming) via his analysis of meaning by Peirce. Many notions are value-paradeigmatic. The most important of all philosophical notions that of rationality, presupposes objective value as one of its motivations. For Grice, ratio can be understood cognoscendi but also essendi, indeed volendi and fiendi, too. Rational motivation involves a ratio cognoscendi and a ratio volendi. While it is practical to restore the root of ‘axis’ for Grices value, its not easy to find Grecianisms for absolute (L. absolutus, from absolvere, In rhet. lang., unrestricted, unconditional, absolute hoc mihi videor videre, esse quasdam cum adjunctione necessitudines, quasdam simplices et absolutas, Cic. Inv. 2, 57, 170. Objective, “objectum,” f. “obicio,” “objectus,” ūs, m. obicio, rendered as “a casting before, a putting against, in the way, or opposite, an opposing; or, neutr., a lying before or opposite (mostly poet. and in postAug. prose): dare objectum parmaï, the opposing of the shield” “vestis;” “insula portum efficit objectu laterum,” “by the opposition,” “cum terga flumine, latera objectu paludis tegerentur, Tac. H. 3,9: molis, id.ib.5,14:regiones, quæ Tauri montis objectu separantur, Gell. 12, 13, 27: solem interventu lunæ occultari, lunamque terræ objectu, the interposition,” “eademque terra objectu suo umbram noctemque efficiat, Cic. Fragm. ap. Non. 243, 13 dub. (al. objecta soli): hi molium objectus (i. e. moles objectas) scandere, the projection,” transf., that which presents itself to the sight, an object, appearance, sight, spectacle, Nep. Hann. 5, 2 (al. objecto)) and if not categoric. This is analogous to Grices overuse of psychoLOGICAL when he just means souly. It is perhaps his use of psychological for souly that leads to take any souly concept as a theoretical concept within a folksy psychoLOGICAL theory. Grice considered the stratification of values, alla Hartmann, unlike Barnes, who dismissed him in five minutes. “Some like Philippa Foot, but Hare is MY man,” Grice would say. “Virtue” ethics was becoming all the fashion, especially around Somerville. Hare was getting irritated by the worse offender, his Anglo-Welsh tutee, originally with a degree from the other place, Williams. Enough for Grice to want to lecture on value, and using Carus as an excuse! Mackie was what Oxonians called a colonial, and a clever one! In fact, Grice quotes from Hares contribution to a volume on Mackie. Hares and Mackies backgrounds could not be more different. Like Grice, Hare was a Lit. Hum., and like Grice, Hare loves the Grundlegung. But unlike Grice and Barnes, Hare would have nothing to say about Stevenson. Philosophers in the play group of Grice never took the critique by Ayer of emotivism seriously. Stevenson is the thing. V. Urmson on the emotive theory of ethics, tracing it to English philosphers like Ogden, Barnes, and Duncan-Jones. Barnes was opposing both Prichard (who was the Whites professor of moral philosophy – and more of an interest than Moore is, seeing that Prichard is Barness tutor at Corpus) and Hartmann. Ryle would have nothing to do with Hartmann, but these were the days before Ryle took over Oxford, and forbade any reference to a continental philosopher, even worse if a “Hun.” Grice reaches the notion of value through that of meaning. If Peirce is simplistic, Grice is not. But his ultra-sophisticated analysis ends up being deemed to hold in this or that utterer. And deeming is valuing, as is optimum. While Grice rarely used axiology, he should! A set of three lectures, which are individually identified below. I love Carus! Grice was undecided as to what his Carus lectures were be on. Grice explores meaning under its value optimality guise in Meaning revisited. Grice thinks that a value-paradeigmatic notion allows him to respond in a more apt way to what some critics were raising as a possible vicious circle in his approach to semantic and psychological notions. The Carus lectures are then dedicated to the construction, alla Hume, of a value-paradeigmatic notion in general, and value itself. Grice starts by quoting Austin, Hare, and Mackie, of Oxford. The lectures are intended to a general audience, provided it is a philosophical general audience. Most of the second lecture is a subtle exploration by Grice of the categorical imperative of Kant, with which he had struggled in the last Locke lecture in “Aspects,” notably the reduction of the categorical imperative to this or that counsel of prudence with an implicated protasis to the effect that the agent is aiming at eudæmonia. The Carus Lectures are three: on objectivity and value, on relative and absolute value, and on metaphysics and value. The first lecture, on objectivity and value, is a review Inventing right and wrong by Mackie, quoting Hare’s antipathy for a value being ‘objective’. The second lecture, on relative and absolute value, is an exploration on the categorical imperative, and its connection with a prior hypothetical or suppositional  imperative. The third lecture, on metaphycis and value, is an eschatological defence of absolute value. The collective citation should be identified by each lecture separately. This is a metaphysical defence by Grice of absolute value. The topic fascinates Grice, and he invents a few routines to cope with it. Humeian projection rationally reconstructs the intuitive concept being of value. Category shift allows to put a value such as the disinterestedness by Smith in grammatical subjects position, thus avoiding to answer that the disinterestedness of Smith is in the next room, since it is not the spatio-temporal continuan prote ousia that Smith is. But the most important routine is that of trans-substantatio, or metousiosis. A human reconstructs as a rational personal being, and alla Kantotle, whatever he judges is therefore of absolute value. The issue involves for Grice the introduction of a telos qua aition, causa finalis (final cause), role, or métier. The final cause of a tiger is to tigerise, the final cause of a reasoner is to reason, the final cause of a person is to personise. And this entails absolute value, now metaphysically defended. The justification involves the ideas of end-setting, unweighed rationality, autonomy, and freedom. In something like a shopping list that Grice provides for issues on free. Attention to freedom calls for formidably difficult undertakings including the search for a justification for the adoption or abandonment of an ultimate end. The point is to secure that freedom does not dissolve into compulsion or chance. Grice proposes four items for this shopping list. A first point is that full action calls for strong freedom. Here one has to be careful that since Grice abides by what he calls the Modified Occams Razor in the third James lecture on Some remarks about logic and conversation, he would not like to think of this two (strong freedom and weak freedom) as being different senses of free. Again, his calls for is best understood as presupposes. It may connect with, say, Kanes full-blown examples of decisions in practical settings that call for or presuppose libertarianism. A second point is that the buletic-doxastic justification of action has to accomodate for the fact that we need freedom which is strong. Strong or serious autonomy or freedom ensures that this or that action is represented as directed to this or that end E which are is not merely the agents, but which is also freely or autonomously adopted or pursued by the agent. Grice discusses the case of the gym instructor commanding, Raise your left arm! The serious point then involves this free adoption or free pursuit. Note Grices use of this or that personal-identity pronoun: not merely mine, i.e. not merely the agents, but in privileged-access position. This connects with what Aristotle says of action as being up to me, and Kant’s idea of the transcendental ego. An end is the agents in that the agent adopts it with liberum arbitrium. This or that ground-level desire may be circumstantial. A weak autonomy or freedom satisfactorily accounts for this or that action as directed to an end which is mine. However, a strong autonomy or freedom, and a strong autonomy or freedom only, accounts for this or that action as directed to an end which is mine, but, unlike, say, some ground-level circumstantial desire which may have sprung out of some circumstantial adaptability to a given scenario, is, first, autonomously or freely adopted by the agent, and, second, autonomously or freely pursued by the agent. The use of the disjunctive particle or in the above is of some interest. An agent may autonomously or freely adopt an end, yet not care to pursue it autonomously or freely, even in this strong connotation that autonomous or free sometimes has. A further point relates to causal indeterminacy. Any attempt to remedy this situation by resorting to causal indeterminacy or chance will only infuriate the scientist without aiding the philosopher. This remark by Grice has to be understood casually. For, as it can be shown, this or that scientist may well have resorted to precisely that introduction and in any case have not self-infuriated. The professional tag that is connoted by philosopher should also be seen as best implicated than entailed. A scientist who does resort to the introduction of causal indeterminacy may be eo ipso be putting forward a serious consideration regarding ethics or meta-ethics. In other words, a cursory examination of the views of a scientist like Eddington, beloved by Grice, or this or that moral philosopher like Kane should be born in mind when considering this third point by Grice. The reference by Grice to chance, random, and causal indeterminacy, should best be understood vis-à-vis Aristotles emphasis on tykhe, fatum, to the effect that this or that event may just happen just by accident, which may well open a can of worms for the naive Griceian, but surely not the sophisticated one (cf. his remarks on accidentally, in Prolegomena). A further item in Grices shopping list involves the idea of autonomous or free as a value, or optimum. The specific character of what Grice has as  strong autonomy or freedom may well turn out to consist, Grice hopes, in the idea of this or that action as the outcome of a certain kind of strong valuation  ‒ where this would include the rational selection, as per e.g. rational-decision theory, of this or that ultimate end. What Grice elsewhere calls out-weighed or extrinsically weighed rationality, where rational includes the buletic, of the end and not the means to it. This or that full human action calls for the presence of this or that reason, which require that this or that full human action for which this or that reason accounts should be the outcome of a strong rational valuation. Like a more constructivist approach, this line suggests that this or that action may require, besides strong autonomy or freedom, now also strong valuation. Grice sets to consider how to adapt the buletic-doxastic soul progression to reach these goals. In the case of this or that ultimate end E, justification should be thought of as lying, directly, at least, in this or that outcome, not on the actual phenomenal fulfilment of this or that end, but rather of the, perhaps noumenal, presence qua end. Grice relates to Kants views on the benevolentia or goodwill and malevolentia, or evil will, or illwill. Considers Smiths action of giving Jones a job. Smith may be deemed to have given Jones a job, whether or not Jones actually gets the job. It is Smiths benevolentia, or goodwill, not his beneficentia, that matters. Hence in Short and Lewis, we have “bĕnĕfĭcentĭa,” from “beneficus,” like magnificentia, munificentia, from magnificus, munificus; cf. Beier and Gernh. upon Cicero, Off. 1, 7, 20, and which they thus render as “the quality of beneficus, kindness, beneficence, an honorable and kind treatment of others” (omaleficentia, Lact. Ira Dei, 1, 1; several times in the philos. writings of Cicero. Elsewhere rare: quid praestantius bonitate et beneficentiā?;” “beneficentia, quam eandem vel benignitatem vel liberalitatem appellari licet,” “comitas ac beneficentia,” “uti beneficentiā adversus supplices,”“beneficentia augebat ornabatque subjectsos.” In a more general fashion then, it is the mere presence of an end qua end of a given action that provides the justification of the end, and not its phenomenal satisfaction or fulfilment. Furthermore, the agents having such and such an end, E1, or such and such a combination of ends, E1 and E2, would be justified by showing that the agents having this end exhibits some desirable feature, such as this or that combo being harmonious. For how can one combine ones desire to smoke with ones desire to lead a healthy life? Harmony is one of the six requirements by Grice for an application of happy to the life of Smith. The buletic-doxastic souly ascription is back in business at a higher level. The suggestion would involve an appeal, in the justification of this or that end, to this or that higher-order end which would be realised by having this or that lower, or first-order end of a certain sort. Such valuation of this or that lower-order end lies within reach of a buletic-doxastic souly ascription. Grice has an important caveat at this point. This or that higher-order end involved in the defense would itself stand in need of justification, and the regress might well turn out to be vicious. One is reminded of Watson’s requirement for a thing like freedom or personal identity to overcome this or that alleged counterexample to freewill provided by H. Frankfurt. It is after the laying of a shopping list, as it were, and considerations such as those above that Grice concludes his reflection with a defense of a noumenon, complete with the inner conflict that it brings. Attention to the idea of autonomous and free leads the philosopher to the need to resolve if not dissolve the most important unsolved problem of philosophy, viz. how an agent can be, at the same time, a member of both the phenomenal world and the noumenal world, or, to settle the internal conflict between one part of our rational nature, the doxastic, even scientific, part which seems to call for the universal reign of a deterministic law and the other buletic part which insists that not merely moral responsibility but every variety of rational belief demands exemption from just such a reign. In this lecture, Grice explores freedom and value from a privileged-access incorrigible perspective rather than the creature construction genitorial justification. Axiology – v. axiological.  Refs.: The main source is The construction of value, the Carus lectures, Clarendon. But there are scattered essays on value and valuing in the Grice Papers. H. P. Grice, “Objectivity and value,” s. V, c. 8-f. 18, “The rational motivation for objective value,” s. V, c. 8-f. 19, “Value,” s. V, c. 9-f. 20; “Value, metaphysics, and teleology,” s. V, c. 9-f. 23, “Values, morals, absolutes, and the metaphysical,” s. V., c. 9-f.  24; “Value sub-systems and the Kantian problem,” s. V. c. 9-ff. 25-27; “Values and rationalism,” s. V, c. 9-f. 28; while the Carus are in the second series, in five folders, s. II, c-2, ff. 12-16, the H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

buletic: Grice was never sure what adjective to use for the ‘desiderative.’ He uses ‘deriderative’ and a few more! Of course what he means is a sub-psychological modality, or rather a ‘soul.’ So he would apply it ‘primarily’ to the soul, as Plato and Aristotle does. The ‘psyche’, or ‘anima’ is what is ‘desiderativa.’ The Grecians are pretty confused about this (but ‘boulemaic’ and ‘buletic’ are used), and the Romans didn’t help. Grice is concerned with a rational-desiderative, that takes a “that”-clause (or oratio obliqua), and qua constructivist, he is also concerned with a pre-rational desiderative (he has an essay on “Needs and Wants,” and his detailed example in “Method” is a squarrel (sic) who needs a nut. On top, while Grice suggest s that it goes both ways: the doxastic can be given a reductive analaysis in terms of the buletic, and the buletic in terms of the doxastic, he only cares to provide the former. Basically, an agent judges that p, if his willing that p correlates to a state of affairs that satisfies his desires. Since he does not provide a reductive analysis for Prichard’s willing-that, one is left wondering. Grice’s position is that ‘willing that…’ attains its ‘sense’ via the specification, as a theoretical concept, in some law in the folk-science that agents use to explain their behaviour. Grice gets subtler when he deals with mode-markers for the desiderative: for these are either utterer-oriented, or addressee-oriented, and they may involve a buletic attitude itself, or a doxastic attitude. When utterer-addressed, utterer wills that utterer wills that p. There is no closure here, and indeed, a regressus ad infinitum is what Grice wants, since this regressus allows him to get univeersabilisability, in terms of conceptual, formal, and applicational kinds of generality. In this he is being Kantian, and Hareian. While Grice praises Kantotle, Aristotle here would stay unashamedly ‘teleological,’ and giving priority to a will that may not be universalisable, since it’s the communitarian ‘good’ that matters. what does Grice have to say about our conversational practice? L and S have “πρᾶξις,” from “πράσσω,” and which they render as ‘moral action,’ oποίησις, τέχνη;” “oποιότης,” “ἤθη καὶ πάθη καὶ π.,” “oοἱ πολιτικοὶ λόγοι;” “ἔργῳ καὶ πράξεσιν, οὐχὶ λόγοις” Id.6.3; ἐν ταῖς πράξεσι ὄντα τε καὶ πραττόμενα, “exhibited in actual life,” action in drama, “oλόγος; “μία π. ὅλη καὶ τελεία.” With practical Grice means buletic. Praxis involves acting, and surely Grice presupposes acting. By uttering, i. e. by the act of uttering, expression x, U m-intends that p. Grice occasionally refers to action and behaviour as the thing which an ascription of a psychological state explains. Grice prefers the idiom of soul. Theres the ratiocinative soul. Within the ratiocinative, theres the executive soul and the merely administrative soul. Cicero had to translate Aristotle into prudentia, every time Aristotle talked of phronesis. Grice was aware that the terminology by Kant can be confusing. Kant used ‘pure’ reason for reason in the doxastic realm. The critique by Kant of practical reason is hardly symmetrical to his critique of doxastic reason. Grice, with his æqui-vocality thesis of must (must crosses the buletic-boulomaic/doxastic divide), Grice is being more of a symmetricalist. The buletic, boulomaic, or volitive, is a part of the soul, as is the doxatic or judicative. And judicative is a trick because there is such a thing as a value judgement, or an evaluative judgement, which is hardly doxastic. Grice plays with two co-relative operators: desirability versus probability. Grice invokes the exhibitive/protreptic distinction he had introduced in the fifth James lecture, now applied to psychological attitudes themselves. This Grice’s attempt is to tackle the Kantian problem in the Grundlegung: how to derive the categorical imperative from a counsel of prudence. Under the assumption that the protasis is Let the agent be happy, Grice does not find it obtuse at all to construct a universalisable imperative out of a mere motive-based counsel of prudence. Grice has an earlier paper on pleasure which relates. The derivation involves seven steps. Grice proposes seven steps in the derivation. 1. It is a fundamental law of psychology that, ceteris paribus, for any creature R, for any P and Q, if R wills P Λ judges if P, P as a result of Q, R wills Q. 2. Place this law within the scope of a "willing" operator: R wills for any P Λ Q, if R wills P Λ judges that if P, P as a result of Q, R wills Q. 3. wills turns to should. If rational, R will have to block unsatisfactory (literally) attitudes. R should (qua rational) judge for any P Λ Q, if it is satisfactory to will that P Λ it is satisfactory to judge that if P, P as a result of Q, it is sastisfactory to will that Q. 4. Marking the mode: R should (qua rational) judge for any P Λ Q, if it is satisfactory that !P Λ that if it .P, .P only as a result of Q, it is satisfactory that !Q. 5. via (p & q -> r) -> (p -> (q -> r)): R should (qua rational) judge for any P Λ Q, if it is satisfactory that if .P, .P only because Q, i is satisfactory that, if let it be that P, let it be that Q. 6. R should (qua rational) judge for any P Λ Q, if P, P only because p yields if let it be that P, let it be that Q. 7. For any P Λ Q if P, P only because Q yields if let it be that P, let it be that Q. Grice was well aware that a philosopher, at Oxford, needs to be a philosophical psychologist. So, wanting and needing have to be related to willing. A plant needs water. A floor needs sweeping. So need is too broad. So is want, a non-Anglo-Saxon root for God knows what. With willing things get closer to the rational soul. There is willing in the animal soul. But when it comes to rational willing, there must be, to echo Pritchard, a conjecture, some doxastic element. You cannot will to fly, or will that the distant chair slides over the floor toward you. So not all wants and needs are rational willings, but then nobody said they would. Grice is interested in emotion in his power structure of the soul. A need and a want may count as an emotion. Grice was never too interested in needing and wanting because they do not take a that-clause. He congratulates Urmson for having introduced him to the brilliant willing that … by Prichard. Why is it, Grice wonders, that many ascriptions of buletic states take to-clause, rather than a that-clause? Even mean, as ‘intend.’ In this Grice is quite different from Austin, who avoids the that-clause. The explanation by Austin is very obscure, like those of all grammars on the  that’-clause, the ‘that’ of ‘oratio obliqua’ is not in every way similar to the ‘that’-clause in an explicit performative formula. Here the utterer is not reporting his own ‘oratio’ in the first person singular present indicative active. Incidentally, of course, it is not in the least necessary that an explicit performative verb should be followed by a ‘that’-clause. In important classes of cases it is followed by ‘to . . .,’ or by or nothing, e. g. ‘I apologize for…,’ ‘I salute you.’ Now many of these verbs appear to be quite satisfactory pure performatives. Irritating though it is to have them as such, linked with clauses that look like statements, true or false, e. g., when I say ‘I prophesy that …,’ ‘I concede that …’,  ‘I postulate that …,’ the clause following normally looks just like a statement, but the verb itself seems to be  pure performatives. One may distinguish the performative opening part, ‘I state that …,’ which makes clear how the utterance is to be taken, that it is a statement, as distinct from a prediction, etc.), from the bit in the that-clause which is required to be true or false. However, there are many cases which, as language stands at present, we are not able to split into two parts in this way, even though the utterance seems to have a sort of explicit performative in it. Thus, ‘I liken x to y,’ or ‘I analyse x as y.’ Here we both do the likening and assert that there is a likeness by means of one compendious phrase of at least a quasi-performative character. Just to spur us on our way, we may also mention ‘I know that …’, ‘I believe that …’, etc. How complicated are these examples? We cannot assume that they are purely descriptive, which has Grice talking of the pseudo-descriptive. Want etymologically means absence; need should be preferred. The squarrel (squirrel) Toby needs intake of nuts, and youll soon see gobbling them! There is not much philosophical bibliography on these two psychological states Grice is analysing. Their logic is interesting. Smith wants to play cricket. Smith needs to play cricket.  Grice is concerned with the propositional content attached to the want and need predicate. Wants that sounds harsh; so does need that. Still, there are propositional attached to the pair above. Smith plays cricket. Grice took a very cavalier attitude to what linguists spend their lives analysing. He thought it was surely not the job of the philosopher, especially from a prestigious university such as Oxford, to deal with the arbitrariness of grammatical knots attached to this or that English verb. He rarely used English, but stuck with ordinary language. Surely, he saw himself in the tradition of Kantotle, and so, aiming at grand philosophical truths: not conventions of usage, even his own! 1. Squarrel Toby has a nut, N, in front of him. 2. Toby is short on squarrel food (observed or assumed), so, 3. Toby wills squarrel food (by postulate of Folk Pyschological Theory θ connecting willing with intake of N). 4. Toby prehends a nut as in front (from (1) by Postulate of Folk Psychological Theory θ, if it is assumed that nut and in front are familiar to Toby). 5. Toby joins squarrel food with gobbling, nut, and in front (i.e. Toby judges gobbling, on nut in front, for squarrel food (by Postulate of Folk Psychological Theory θ with the aid of prior observation. So, from 3, 4 and 5, 6. Tobby gobbles; and since a nut is in front of him, gobbles the nut in front of him. The system of values of the society to which the agent belongs forms the external standard for judging the relative importance of the commitments by the agent. There are three dimensions of value: universally human, cultural that vary with societies and times; and personal that vary with individuals. Each dimension has a standard for judging the adequacy of the relevant values. Human values are adequate if they satisfy basic needs; cultural values are adequate if they provide a system of values that sustains the allegiance of the inhabitants of a society; and personal values are adequate if the conceptions of well‐being formed out of them enable individuals to live satisfying lives. These values conflict and our well‐being requires some way of settling their conflicts, but there is no universal principle for settling the conflicts; it can only be done by attending to the concrete features of particular conflicts. These features vary with circumstances and values. Grice reads Porter.The idea of the value chain is based on the process view of organizations, the idea of seeing a manufacturing (or service) organization as a system, made up of subsystems each with inputs, transformation processes and outputs. Inputs, transformation processes, and outputs involve the acquisition and consumption of resources – money, labour, materials, equipment, buildings, land, administration and management. How value chain activities are carried out determines costs and affects profits.In his choice of value system and value sub-system, Grice is defending objectivity, since it is usually the axiological relativist who uses such a pretentious phrasing! More than a value may co-ordinate in a system. One such is eudæmonia (cf. system of ends). The problem for Kant is the reduction of the categorical imperative to the hypothetical or suppositional imperative. For Kant, a value tends towards the Subjectsive. Grice, rather, wants to offer a metaphysical defence of objective value. Grice called the manual of conversational maxims the Conversational Immanuel. The keyword to search the H. P. Grice is ‘will,’ and ‘volitional,’ even ‘ill-will,’ (“Metaphysics and ill-will,” s. V, c. 7-f. 28) and ‘benevolence’ (vide below under ‘conversational benevolence”). Also ‘desirability’: “Modality, desirability, and probability,” s. V, c. 8-ff. 14-15, and the conference lecture in a different series, “Probability, desirability, and mood operators,” s. II, c. 2-f.11).  Grice makes systematic use of ‘practical’ to contrast with the ‘alethic,’ too (“Practical reason,” s. V, c. 9-f.1), The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

communication: it is a commonplace that Grice belongs, as most philosophers of the twentieth century, to the movement of the linguistic turn. Grice takes this seriously. Let us start then by examining what we mean by ‘linguistic,’ or ‘communication.’ It is curious that while most Griceians overuse ‘communicative’ as applied to ‘intention,’ Grice does not. Communicator’s intention, at most. This is the Peirce in Grice’s soul. Meaning provides an excellent springboard for Grice to centre his analysis on psychological or soul-y verbs as involving the agent and the first person: smoke only figuratively means fire, and the expression smoke only figuratively (or metabolically) means that there is fire. It is this or that utterer (say, Grice) who means, say, by uttering Where theres smoke theres fire, or ubi fumus, ibi ignis, that where theres smoke theres fire. A means something by uttering x, an utterance-token is roughly equivalent to utterer U intends the utterance of x to produce some effect in his addressee A by means of the recognition of this intention; and we may add that to ask what U means is to ask for a specification of the intended effect - though, of course, it may not always be possible to get a straight answer involving a that-clause, for example, a belief that  He does provide a more specific example involving the that-clause at a later stage. By uttering x, utterer U means that-ψ­_b-dp iff (Ǝ.φ).(Ǝ.f).(Ǝ.c): I. U utters x intending x to be such that anyone who has φ will think that (i) x has f  (ii) f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p (iii) (Ǝ.φ): U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ will think, via thinking (i) and (ii), that U ψ-s that p (iv) in view of (3), U ψ-s that p; and II (operative only for certain substituends for ψ_b-d). U utters x intending that, should there actually be anyone who has φ, he will, via thinking (iv), himself ψ that p; and III. It is not the case that, for some inference-element E, U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ will both (i) rely on E in coming to ψ (or think that U ψ-s) that p and (ii) think that (Ǝ.φ): U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ will come to ψ (or think that U ψ-s) that p without relying on E. Besides St. John The Baptist, and Salome, Grice cites few Namess in Meaning. But he makes a point about Stevenson! For Stevenson, smoke means fire. Meaning develops out of an interest by Grice on the philosophy of Peirce. In his essays on Peirce, Grice quotes from many other authors, including, besides Peirce himself (!), Ogden, Richards, and Ewing, or A. C. Virtue is not a fire-shovel Ewing, as Grice calls him, and this or that cricketer. In the characteristic Oxonian fashion of a Lit. Hum., Grice has no intention to submit Meaning to publication. Publishing is vulgar. Bennett, however, guesses that Grice decides to publish it just a year after his Defence of a dogma. Bennett’s argument is that Defence of a dogma pre-supposes some notion of meaning. However, a different story may be told, not necessarily contradicting Bennetts. It is Strawson who submits the essay by Grice to The Philosophical Review (henceforth, PR) Strawson attends Grices talk on Meaning for The Oxford Philosophical Society, and likes it. Since In defence of a dogma was co-written with Strawson, the intention Bennett ascribes to Grice is Strawsons. Oddly, Strawson later provides a famous alleged counter-example to Grice on meaning in Intention and convention in speech acts, following J. O. Urmson’s earlier attack to the sufficiency of Grices analysans -- which has Grice dedicating a full James lecture (No. 5) to it. The case by Urmson involved a tutee offering to buy Gardiner an expensive dinner, hoping that Gardiner will give him permission for an over-night visit to London. Gardiner knows that his tutee wants his permission. The appropriate analysans for "By offering to buy Gardiner an expensive dinner, the tuttee means that Gardiner should give him permission for an overnight stay in London" are fulfilled: (1) The tutee offers to buy Gardiner an expensive dinner with the intention of producing a certain response on the part of Gardiner (2) The tutee intends that Gardiner should recognize (know, think) that the tutee is offering to buy him an expensive dinner with the intention of producing this response; (3) The tutee intends that Gardiners recognition (thought) that the tutee has the intention mentioned in (2) should be at least part of Gardiners reason for producing the response mentioned. If in general to specify in (i) the nature of an intended response is to specify what was meant, it should be correct not only to say that by offering to buy Gardiner an expensive dinner, the tutee means that Gardiner is to give him permission for an overnight stay in London, but also to say that he meas that Gardiner should (is to) give him permission for an over-night visit to London. But in fact one would not wish to say either of these things; only that the tutee meant Gardiner to give him permission. A restriction seems to be required, and one which might serve to eliminate this range of counterexamples can be identified from a comparison of two scenarios. Grice goes into a tobacconists shop, ask for a packet of my favorite cigarettes, and when the unusually suspicious tobacconist shows that he wants to see the color of my money before he hands over the goods, I put down the price of the cigarettes on the counter. Here nothing has been meant. Alternatively, Grice goes to his regular tobacconist (from whom I also purchase other goods) for a packet of my regular brand of Players Navy Cuts, the price of which is distinctive, say 43p. Grice says nothing, but puts down 43p. The tobacconist recognizes my need, and hands over the packet. Here, I think, by putting down 43p I meant something-Namesly, that I wanted a packet of Players Navy Cuts. I have at the same time provided an inducement. The distinguishing feature of the second example seems to be that here the tobacconist recognized, and was intended to recognize, what he was intended to do from my "utterance" (my putting down the money), whereas in the first example this was not the case. Nor is it the case with respect to Urmson’s case of the tutees attempt to bribe Gardiner. So one might propose that the analysis of meaning be amended accordingly. U means something by uttering x is true if: (i) U intends, by uttering x, to induce a certain response in A (2) U intends A to recognize, at least in part from the utterance of x, that U intends to produce that response (3) U intends the fulfillment of the intention mentioned in (2) to be at least in part As reason for fulfilling the intention mentioned in (i). While this might cope with Urmsons counterexample to Grices proposal in the Oxford Philosophical Society talk involving the tutee attempting to bribe Gardiner, there is Strawsons rat-infested house for which it is insufficient. An interesting fact, that confused a few, is that Hart quotes from Grices Meaning in his critical review of Holloway for The Philosophical Quarterly. Hart quotes Grice pre-dating the publication of Meaning. Harts point is that Holloway should have gone to Oxford! In Meaning, Grice may be seen as a practitioner of ordinary-language philosophy: witness his explorations of the factivity (alla know, remember, or see) or lack thereof of various uses of to mean. The second part of the essay, for which he became philosophically especially popular, takes up an intention-based approach to semantic notions. The only authority Grice cites, in typical Oxonian fashion, is, via Ogden and Barnes, Stevenson, who, from The New World (and via Yale, too!) defends an emotivist theory of ethics, and making a few remarks on how to mean is used, with scare quotes, in something like a causal account (Smoke means fire.). After its publication Grices account received almost as many alleged counterexamples as rule-utilitarianism (Harrison), but mostly outside Oxford, and in The New World. New-World philosophers seem to have seen Grices attempt as reductionist and as oversimplifying. At Oxford, the sort of counterexample Grice received, before Strawson, was of the Urmson-type: refined, and subtle. I think your account leaves bribery behind. On the other hand, in the New World ‒ in what Grice calls the Latter-Day School of Nominalism, Quine is having troubles with empiricism. Meaning was repr. in various collections, notably in Philosophical Logic, ed. by Strawson. It should be remembered that it is Strawson who has the thing typed and submitted for publication. Why Meaning should be repr. in a collection on Philosophical Logic only Strawson knows. But Grice does say that his account may help clarify the meaning of entails! It may be Strawsons implicature that Parkinson should have repr. (and not merely credited) Meaning by Grice in his series for Oxford on The theory of meaning. The preferred quotation for Griceians is of course The Oxford Philosophical Society quote, seeing that Grice recalled the exact year when he gave the talk for the Philosophical Society at Oxford! It is however, the publication in The Philosophi, rather than the quieter evening at the Oxford Philosophical Society, that occasioned a tirade of alleged counter-examples by New-World philosophers. Granted, one or two Oxonians ‒ Urmson and Strawson ‒ fell in! Urmson criticises the sufficiency of Grices account, by introducing an alleged counter-example involving bribery. Grice will consider a way out of Urmsons alleged counter-example in his fifth Wiliam James Lecture, rightly crediting and thanking Urmson for this! Strawsons alleged counter-example was perhaps slightly more serious, if regressive. It also involves the sufficiency of Grices analysis. Strawsons rat-infested house alleged counter-example started a chain which required Grice to avoid, ultimately, any sneaky intention by way of a recursive clause to the effect that, for utterer U to have meant that p, all meaning-constitutive intentions should be above board. But why this obsession by Grice with mean? He is being funny. Spots surely dont mean, only mean.They dont have a mind. Yet Grice opens with a specific sample. Those spots mean, to the doctor, that you, dear, have measles. Mean? Yes, dear, mean, doctors orders. Those spots mean measles. But how does the doctor know? Cannot he be in the wrong? Not really, mean is factive, dear! Or so Peirce thought. Grice is amazed that Peirce thought that some meaning is factive. The hole in this piece of cloth means that a bullet went through is is one of Peirce’s examples. Surely, as Grice notes, this is an unhappy example. The hole in the cloth may well have caused by something else, or fabricated. (Or the postmark means that the letter went through the post.) Yet, Grice was having Oxonian tutees aware that Peirce was krypto-technical. Grice chose for one of his pre-Meaning seminars on Peirce’s general theory of signs, with emphasis on general, and the correspondence of Peirce and Welby. Peirce, rather than the Vienna circle, becomes, in vein with Grices dissenting irreverent rationalism, important as a source for Grices attempt to English Peirce. Grices implicature seems to be that Peirce, rather than Ayer, cared for the subtleties of meaning and sign, never mind a verificationist theory about them! Peirce ultra-Latinate-cum-Greek taxonomies have Grice very nervous, though. He knew that his students were proficient in the classics, but still. Grice thus proposes to reduce all of Peirceian divisions and sub-divisions (one sub-division too many) to mean. In the proceedings, he quotes from Ogden, Richards, and Ewing. In particular, Grice was fascinated by the correspondence of Peirce with Lady Viola Welby, as repr. by Ogden/Richards in, well, their study on the meaning of meaning. Grice thought the science of symbolism pretentious, but then he almost thought Lady Viola Welby slightly pretentious, too, if youve seen her; beautiful lady. It is via Peirce that Grice explores examples such as those spots meaning measles. Peirce’s obsession is with weathercocks almost as Ockham was with circles on wine-barrels. Old-World Grices use of New-World Peirce is illustrative, thus, of the Oxonian linguistic turn focused on ordinary language. While Peirce’s background was not philosophical, Grice thought it comical enough. He would say that Peirce is an amateur, but then he said the same thing about Mill, whom Grice had to study by heart to get his B. A. Lit. Hum.! Plus, as Watson commented, Whats wrong with amateur? Give me an amateur philosopher ANY day, if I have to choose from professional Hegel! In finding Peirce krypo-technical, Grice is ensuing that his tutees, and indeed any Oxonian philosophy student (he was university lecturer) be aware that to mean should be more of a priority than this or that jargon by this or that (New World?) philosopher!? Partly! Grice wanted his students to think on their own, and draw their own conclusions! Grice cites Ewing, Ogden/Richards, and many others. Ewing, while Oxford-educated, had ended up at Cambridge (Scruton almost had him as his tutor) and written some points on Meaninglessness! Those spots mean measles. Grice finds Peirce krypto-technical and proposes to English him into an ordinary-language philosopher. Surely it is not important whether we consider a measles spot a sign, a symbol, or an icon. One might just as well find a doctor in London who thinks those spots symbolic. If Grice feels like Englishing Peirce, he does not altogether fail! meaning, reprints, of Meaning and other essays, a collection of reprints and offprints of Grices essays. Meaning becomes a central topic of at least two strands in Retrospective epilogue. The first strand concerns the idea of the centrality of the utterer. What Grice there calls meaning BY (versus meaning TO), i.e. as he also puts it, active or agents meaning. Surely he is right in defending an agent-based account to meaning. Peirce need not, but Grice must, because he is working with an English root, mean, that is only figurative applicable to non-agentive items (Smoke means rain). On top, Grice wants to conclude that only a rational creature (a person) can meanNN properly. Non-human animals may have a correlate. This is a truly important point for Grice since he surely is seen as promoting a NON-convention-based approach to meaning, and also defending from the charge of circularity in the non-semantic account of propositional attitudes. His final picture is a rationalist one. P₁ G wants to communicate about a danger to P₂. This presupposes there IS a danger (item of reality). Then P₁ G believes there is a danger, and communicates to P₂ G2 that there is a danger. This simple view of conversation as rational co-operation underlies Grices account of meaning too, now seen as an offshoot of philosophical psychology, and indeed biology, as he puts it. Meaning as yet another survival mechanism. While he would never use a cognate like significance in his Oxford Philosophical Society talk, Grice eventually starts to use such Latinate cognates at a later stage of his development. In Meaning, Grice does not explain his goal. By sticking with a root that the Oxford curriculum did not necessarily recognised as philosophical (amateur Peirce did!), Grice is implicating that he is starting an ordinary-language botanising on his own repertoire! Grice was amused by the reliance by Ewing on very Oxonian examples contra Freddie Ayer: Surely Virtue aint a fire-shovel is perfectly meaningful, and if fact true, if, Ill admit, somewhat misleading and practically purposeless at Cambridge. Again, the dismissal by Grice of natural meaning is due to the fact that natural meaning prohibits its use in the first person and followed by a that-clause. ‘I mean-n that p’ sounds absurd, no communication-function seems in the offing, there is no ‘sign for,’ as Woozley would have it. Grice found, with Suppes, all types of primacy (ontological, axiological, psychological) in utterers meaning. In Retrospective epilogue, he goes back to the topic, as he reminisces that it is his suggestion that there are two allegedly distinguishable meaning concepts, even if one is meta-bolical, which may be called natural meaning and non-natural meaning. There is this or that test (notably factivity-entailment vs. cancelation, but also scare quotes) which may be brought to bear to distinguish one concept from the other. We may, for example, inquire whether a particular occurrence of the predicate mean is factive or non-factive, i. e., whether for it to be true that [so and so] means that p, it does or does not have to be the case that it is true that p. Again, one may ask whether the use of quotation marks to enclose the specification of what is meant would be inappropriate or appropriate. If factivity (as in know, remember, and see) is present and quotation marks (oratio recta) are be inappropriate, we have a case of natural meaning. Otherwise the meaning involved is non-natural meaning. We may now ask whether there is a single overarching idea which lies behind both members of this dichotomy of uses to which the predicate meaning that seems to be Subjects. If there is such a central idea it might help to indicate to us which of the two concepts is in greater need of further analysis and elucidation and in what direction such elucidation should proceed. Grice confesses that he has only fairly recently come to believe that there is such an overarching idea and that it is indeed of some service in the proposed inquiry. The idea behind both uses of mean is that of consequence, or consequentia, as Hobbes has it. If [x] means that p, something which includes p or the idea of p, is a consequence of [x]. In the metabolic natural use of meaning that p, p, this or that consequence, is this or that state of affairs. In the literal, non-metabolic, basic, non-natural use of meaning that p, (as in Smith means that his neighbour’s three-year child is an adult), p, this or that consequence is this or that conception or complexus which involves some other conception. This perhaps suggests that of the two concepts it is, as it should, non-natural meaning which is more in need of further elucidation. It seems to be the more specialised of the pair, and it also seems to be the less determinate. We may, e. g., ask how this or that conception enters the picture. Or we may ask whether what enters the picture is the conception itself or its justifiability. On these counts Grice should look favorably on the idea that, if further analysis should be required for one of the pair, the notion of non-natural meaning would be first in line. There are factors which support the suitability of further analysis for the concept of non-natural meaning. Meaning_NN that p (non-natural meaning) does not look as if it Namess an original feature of items in the world, for two reasons which are possibly not mutually independent. One reason is that, given suitable background conditions, meaning, can be changed by fiat. The second reason is that the presence of meaning_NN is dependent on a framework provided by communication, if that is not too circular.  Communication is in the philosophical lexicon, commūnĭcātĭo, from communicare, "(several times in Cicero, elsewhere rare), and as they did with negatio and they will with significatio, Short and Lewis render, unhelpfully, as a making common, imparting, communicating. largitio et communicatio civitatis (Cic. Balb. 13, 31), quaedam societas et communicatio utilitatum,” “consilii communicatio, “communicatio sermonis,” criminis cum pluribus; “communicatio nominum, i. e. the like appellation of several objects; “juris; “damni; In rhetorics, communicatio, trading on the communis, a figure, translating Grecian ἀνακοίνωσις, in accordance with which the utterer turns to his addressee, and, as it were, allows him to take part in the inquiry. It seems to Grice, then, at least reasonable and possibly even emphatically mandatory, to treat the claim that a communication vehicle, such as this and that expression means that p, in this transferred, metaphoric, or meta-bolic use of means that as being reductively analysable in terms of this or that feature of this or that utterer, communicator, or user of this or that expression. The use of meaning that as applied to this or that expression is posterior to and explicable through the utterer-oriented, or utterer-relativised use, i.e. involving a reference to this or that communicator or user of this or that expression. More specifically, one should license a metaphorical use of mean, where one allows the claim that this or that expression means that p, provided that this or that utterer, in this or that standard fashion, means that p, i.e. in terms of this or that souly statee toward this or that propositional complexus this or that utterer ntends, in a standardly fashion, to produce by his uttering this or that utterance. That this or that expression means (in this metaphorical use) that p is thus explicable either in terms of this or that souly state which is standardly intended to produce in this or that addressee A by this or that utterer of this or that expression, or in this or that souly staken up by this or that utterer toward this or that activity or action of this or that utterer of this or that expression. Meaning was in the air in Oxfords linguistic turn. Everybody was talking meaning. Grice manages to quote from Hares early “Mind” essay on the difference between imperatives and indicatives, also Duncan-Jones on the fugitive proposition,  and of course his beloved Strawson. Grice was also concerned by the fact that in the manoeuvre of the typical ordinary-language philosopher, there is a constant abuse of mean. Surely Grice wants to stick with the utterers meaning as the primary use. Expressions mean only derivatively. To do that, he chose Peirce to see if he could clarify it with meaning that. Grice knew that the polemic was even stronger in London, with Ogden and Lady Viola Welby. In the more academic Oxford milieu, Grice knew that a proper examination of meaning, would lead him, via Kneale and his researches on the history of semantics, to the topic of signification that obsessed the modistae (and their modus significandi). For what does L and S say about about this? There is indeed an entry for signĭfĭcātĭo, f. significare. L and S render it, unhelpfully, as “a pointing out, indicating, denoting, signifying; an expression, indication, mark, sign, token, = indicium, signum, ἐπισημασία, etc., freq. and class. As with Stevenson’s ‘communico,’ Grice goes sraight to ‘signĭfĭco,’ also dep. “signĭfĭcor,” f. ‘significare,’ from signum-facere, to make sign, signum-facio, I make sign, which L and S render as to signify, which is perhaps not too helpful. Grice, if not the Grecians, knew that. Strictly, L and S render significare as to show by signs; to show, point out, express, publish, make known, indicate; to intimate, notify, signify, etc. Note that the cognate signify almost comes last, but not least, if not first. Enough to want to coin a word to do duty for them all. Which is what Grice (and the Grecians) can, but the old Romans cannot, with mean. If that above were not enough, L and S go on, also, to betoken, prognosticate, foreshow, portend, mean (syn. praedico), as in to betoken a change of weather (post-Aug.): “ventus Africus tempestatem significat, etc.,”cf. Grice on those dark clouds mean a storm is coming.  Short and Lewis go on, to say that significare may be rendered as to call, name; to mean, import, signify. Hence, ‘signĭfĭcans,’ in rhet. lang., of speech, full of meaning, expressive, significant; graphic, distinct, clear: adv.: signĭfĭcanter, clearly, distinctly, expressly, significantly, graphically: “breviter ac significanter ordinem rei protulisse;” “rem indicare (with proprie),”  “dicere (with ornate),”  “apertius, significantius dignitatem alicujus defendere,” “narrare,”“disponere,” “appellare aliquid (with consignatius);” “dicere (with probabilius).” If perhaps Grice was unhappy about the artificial flavour to saying that a word is a sign, Grice surely should have checked with all the Grecian-Roman cognates of mean, as in his favourite memorative-memorable distinction, and the many Grecian realisations, or with Old Roman mentire and mentare. Lewis and Short have “mentĭor,” f. mentire, L and S note, is prob. from root men-, whence mens and memini, q. v. The original meaning, they say, is to invent,  hence, but alla Umberto Eco with sign, mentire comes to mean in later use what Grice (if not the Grecians) holds is the opposite of mean. Short and Lewis render mentire as to lie, cheat, deceive, etc., to pretend, to declare falsely: mentior nisi or si mentior, a form of asseveration, I am a liar, if, etc.: But also, animistically (modest mentalism?) of things, as endowed with a mind. L and S go on: to deceive, impose upon, to deceive ones self, mistake, to lie or speak falsely about, to assert falsely, make a false promise about; to feign, counterfeit, imitate a shape, nature, etc.: to devise a falsehood,  to assume falsely,  to promise falsely, to invent, feign, of a poetical fiction: “ita mentitur (sc. Homerus),  Trop., of inanim. grammatical Subjects, as in Semel fac illud, mentitur tua quod subinde tussis, Do what your cough keeps falsely promising, i. e. die, Mart. 5, 39, 6. Do what your cough means! =imp. die!; hence, mentĭens,  a fallacy, sophism: quomodo mentientem, quem ψευδόμενον vocant, dissolvas;” mentītus, imitated, counterfeit, feigned (poet.): “mentita tela;” For “mentior,” indeed, there is a Griceian implicatum involving rational control. The rendition of mentire as to lie stems from a figurative shift from to be mindful, or inventive, to have second thoughts" to "to lie, conjure up". But Grice would also have a look at cognate “memini,” since this is also cognate with “mind,” “mens,” and covers subtler instances of mean, as in Latinate, “mention,” as in Grices “use-mention” distinction. mĕmĭni, cognate with "mean" and German "meinen," to think = Grecian ὑπομένειν, await (cf. Schiffer, "remnants of meaning," if I think, I hesitate, and therefore re-main. Cf. Gr. μεν- in μένω, Μέντωρ; μαν- in μαίνομαι, μάντις; μνᾶ- in μιμνήσκω, etc.; cf.: maneo, or manere, as in remain. The idea, as Schiffer well knows or means, being that if you think, you hesitate, and therefore, wait and remain], moneo, reminiscor [cf. reminiscence], mens, Minerva, etc. which L and S render as “to remember, recollect, to think of, be mindful of a thing; not to have forgotten a person or thing, to bear in mind (syn.: reminiscor, recordor).” Surely with a relative clause, and to make mention of, to mention a thing, either in speaking or writing (rare but class.). Hence. mĕmĭnens, mindful And then Grice would have a look at moneo, as in adMONish, also cognate is “mŏnĕo,” monere, causative from the root "men;" whence memini, q. v., mens (mind), mentio (mention); lit. to cause to think, to re-mind, put in mind of, bring to ones recollection; to admonish, advise, warn, instruct, teach (syn.: hortor, suadeo, doceo). L and S are Griceian if not Grecian when they note that ‘monere’ can be used "without the accessory notion [implicatum or entanglement, that is] of reminding or admonishing, in gen., to teach, instruct, tell, inform, point out; also, to announce, predict, foretell, even if also to punish, chastise (only in Tacitus): “puerili verbere moneri.” And surely, since he loved to re-minisced, Grice would have allowed to just earlier on just minisced. Short and Lewis indeed have rĕmĭniscor, which, as they point out, features the root men; whence mens, memini; and which they compare to comminiscere, v. comminiscor, to recall to mind, recollect, remember (syn. recordor), often used by the Old Romans  with with Grices beloved that-clause, for sure. For what is the good of reminiscing or comminiscing, if you cannot reminisce that Austin always reminded Grice that skipping the dictionary was his big mistake! If Grice uses mention, cognate with mean, he loved commenting Aristotle. And commentare is, again, cognate with mean. As opposed to the development of the root in Grecian, or English, in Roman the root for mens is quite represented in many Latinate cognates. But a Roman, if not a Grecian, would perhaps be puzzled by a Grice claiming, by intuition, to retrieve the necessary and sufficient conditions for the use of this or that expression. When the Roman is told that the Griceian did it for fun, he understands, and joins in the fun! Indeed, hardly a natural kind in the architecture of the world, but one that fascinated Grice and the Grecian philosophers before him! Communication. This is Grice’s reply to popular Ogden. They want to know what the meaning of meaning is? Here is Grices Oxononian response, with a vengeance. Grice is not an animist nor a mentalist, even modest.  While he allows for natural phenomena to mean (smoke means fire), meaning is best ascribed to some utterer, where this meaning is nothing but the intentions behind his utterance. This is the fifth James lecture. Grice was careful enough to submit it to PR, since it is a strictly philosophical development of the views expressed in Meaning which Strawson had submitted on Grice’s behalf to the same Review and which had had a series of responses by various philosophers. Among these philosophers is Strawson himself in Intention and convention in the the theory of speech acts, also in PR. Grice quotes from very many other philosophers in this essay, including: Urmson, Stampe, Strawson, Schiffer, and Searle. Strawson is especially relevant since he started a series of alleged counter-examples with his infamous example of the rat-infested house. Grice particularly treasured Stampes alleged counter-example involving his beloved bridge! Avramides earns a D. Phil Oxon. on that, under Strawson! This is Grices occasion to address some of the criticisms ‒ in the form of alleged counter-examples, typically, as his later reflections on epagoge versus diagoge note  ‒ by Urmson, Strawson,and other philosophers associated with Oxford, such as Searle, Stampe, and Schiffer. The final analysandum is pretty complex (of the type that he did find his analysis of I am hearing a sound complex in Personal identity  ‒ hardly an obstacle for adopting it), it became yet another target of attack by especially New-World philosophers in the pages of Mind, Nous, and other journals, This is officially the fifth James lecture. Grice takes up the analysis of meaning he had presented way back at the Oxford Philosophical Society. Motivated mainly by the attack by Urmson and by Strawson in Intention and convention in speech acts, that offered an alleged counter-example to the sufficiency of Grices analysis, Grice ends up introducing so many intention that he almost trembled. He ends up seeing meaning as a value-paradeigmatic concept, perhaps never realisable in a sublunary way. But it is the analysis in this particular essay where he is at his formal best. He distinguishes between protreptic and exhibitive utterances, and also modes of correlation (iconic, conventional). He symbolises the utterer and the addressee, and generalises over the type of psychological state, attitude, or stance, meaning seems to range (notably indicative vs. imperative). He formalises the reflexive intention, and more importantly, the overtness of communication in terms of a self-referential recursive intention that disallows any sneaky intention to be brought into the picture of meaning-constitutive intentions. By uttering x the utterer U means that ψ_b-d p iff (Ǝφ) (Ǝf) (Ǝc): I. The utterer U utters x intending x to be such that anyone who has φ will think that (i) x has f  (ii) f is correlated in way c with ψ-ing that p (iii) (Ǝφ): U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ will think, via thinking (i) and (ii), that U ψ-s that p (iv) in view of (3), U ψ-s that p; and II (operative only for certain substituends for ψ_b-d) U utters x intending that, should there actually be anyone who has φ, he will, via thinking (iv), himself ψ that p; and III. It is not the case that, for some inference-element E, U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ will both (i) rely on E in coming to ψ (or think that U ψ-s) that p and (ii) think that (Ǝ φ): U intends x to be such that anyone who has φ will come to ψ (or think that U ψ-s) that p without relying on E. Grice thought he had dealt with Logic and conversation enough! So he feels of revising his Meaning. After all, Strawson had had the cheek to publish Meaning by Grice and then go on to criticize it in Intention and convention in speech acts. So this is Grices revenge, and he wins! He ends with the most elaborate theory of mean that an Oxonian could ever hope for. And to provoke the informalists such as Strawson (and his disciples at Oxford – led by Strawson) he pours existential quantifiers like the plague! He manages to quote from Urmson, whom he loved! No word on Peirce, though, who had originated all this! His implicature: Im not going to be reprimanted in informal discussion about my misreading Peirce at Harvard! The concluding note is about artificial substitutes for iconic representation, and meaning as a human institution. Very grand. This is Grices metabolical projection of utterers meaning to apply to anything OTHER than utterers meaning, notably a token of the utterers expression and a TYPE of the utterers expression, wholly or in part. Its not like he WANTS to do it, he NEEDS it to give an account of implicatum. The phrase utterer is meant to provoke. Grice thinks that speaker is too narrow. Surely you can mean by just uttering stuff! This is the sixth James lecture, as published in “Foundations of Language” (henceforth, “FL”), or “The foundations of language,” as he preferred. As it happens, it became a popular lecture, seeing that Searle selected this from the whole set for his Oxford reading in philosophy on the philosophy of language. It is also the essay cited by Chomsky in his influential Locke lectures. Chomsky takes Grice to be a behaviourist, even along Skinners lines, which provoked a reply by Suppes, repr. in PGRICE. In The New World, the H. P. is often given in a more simplified form. Grice wants to keep on playing. In Meaning, he had said x means that p is surely reducible to utterer U means that p. In this lecture, he lectures us as to how to proceed. In so doing he invents this or that procedure: some basic, some resultant. When Chomsky reads the reprint in Searles Philosophy of Language, he cries: Behaviourist! Skinnerian! It was Suppes who comes to Grices defence. Surely the way Grice uses expressions like resultant procedure are never meant in the strict behaviourist way. Suppes concludes that it is much fairer to characterise Grice as an intentionalist. Published in FL, ed. by Staal, Repr.in Searle, The Philosophy of Language, Oxford, the sixth James Lecture, FL, resultant procedure, basic procedure. Staal asked Grice to publish the sixth James lecture for a newish periodical publication of whose editorial board he was a member. The fun thing is Grice complied! This is Grices shaggy-dog story. He does not seem too concerned about resultant procedures. As he will ll later say, surely I can create Deutero-Esperanto and become its master! For Grice, the primacy is the idiosyncratic, particularized utterer in this or that occasion. He knows a philosopher craves for generality, so he provokes the generality-searcher with divisions and sub-divisions of mean. But his heart does not seem to be there, and he is just being overformalistic and technical for the sake of it. I am glad that Putnam, of all people, told me in an aside, Youre being too formal, Grice. I stopped with symbolism since! Communication. This is Grice’s clearest anti-animist attack by Grice. He had joins Hume in mocking causing and willing: The decapitation of Charles I as willing Charles Is death. Language semantics alla Tarski. Grice know sees his former self. If he was obsessed, after Ayer, with mean, he now wants to see if his explanation of it (then based on his pre-theoretic intuition) is theoretically advisable in terms other than dealing with those pre-theoretical facts, i.e. how he deals with a lexeme like mean. This is a bit like Grice: implicatum, revisited. An axiological approach to meaning. Strictly a reprint of Grice, which should be the preferred citation. The date is given by Grice himself, and he knew! Grice also composed some notes on Remnants on meaning, by Schiffer. This is a bit like Grices meaning re-revisited. Schiffer had been Strawsons tutee at Oxford as a Rhode Scholar in the completion of his D. Phil. on Meaning, Clarendon. Eventually, Schiffer grew sceptic, and let Grice know about it! Grice did not find Schiffers arguments totally destructive, but saw the positive side to them. Schiffers arguments should remind any philosopher that the issues he is dealing are profound and bound to involve much elucidation before they are solved. This is a bit like Grice: implicatum, revisited. Meaning revisited (an ovious nod to Evelyn Waughs Yorkshire-set novel) is the title Grice chose for a contribution to a symposium at Brighton organised by Smith. Meaning revisited (although Grice has earlier drafts entitled Meaning and philosophical psychology) comprises three sections. In the first section, Grice is concerned with the application of his M. O. R., or Modified Occams Razor now to the very lexeme, mean. Cf. How many senses does sense have? Cohen: The Senses of Senses. In the second part, Grice explores an evolutionary model of creature construction reaching a stage of non-iconic representation. Finally, in the third section, motivated to solve what he calls a major problem ‒ versus the minor problem concerning the transition from  utterers meaning to expression meaning  ‒ Grice attempts to construct meaning as a value-paradeigmatic notion. A version was indeed published in the proceedings of the Brighton symposium, by Croom Helm, London. Grice has a couple of other drafts with variants on this title: philosophical psychology and meaning, psychology and meaning. He kept, meaningfully, changing the order! It is not arbitrary that Grices fascinating exploration is in three parts. In the first, where he applies his Modified Occams razor to mean, he is revisiting Stevenson. Smoke means fire and I mean love, dont need different senses of mean. And Stevenson was right when using scare quotes for the Smoke means fire utterance. Grice was very much aware that that, the rather obtuse terminology of senses, was exactly the terminology he had adopted in both Meaning and the relevant James lectures (V and VI) at Harvard! Now, its time to revisit and to echo Graves, say, goodbye to all that! In the second part he applies Pology. While he knows his audience is not philosophical ‒ its not Oxford ‒ he thinks they still may get some entertainment! We have a P feeling pain, simulating it, and finally uttering, I am in pain. In the concluding section, Grice becomes Plato. He sees meaning as an optimum, i.e. a value-paradeigmatic notion introducing value in its guise of optimality. Much like Plato thought circle works in his idiolect. Grice played with various titles, in the Grice Collection. Theres philosophical psychology and meaning. The reason is obvious. The lecture is strictly divided in sections, and it is only natural that Grice kept drafts of this or that section in his collection. In WOW Grice notes that he re-visited his Meaning re-visited at a later stage, too! And he meant it! Surely, there is no way to understand the stages of Grice’s development of his ideas about meaning without Peirce! It is obvious here that Grice thought that mean two figurative or metabolical extensions of use. Smoke means fire and Smoke means smoke. The latter is a transferred use in that impenetrability means lets change the topic if Humpty-Dumpty m-intends that it and Alice are to change the topic. Why did Grice feel the need to add a retrospective epilogue? He loved to say that what the “way of words” contains is neither his first, nor his last word. So trust him to have some intermediate words to drop. He is at his most casual in the very last section of the epilogue. The first section is more of a very systematic justification for any mistake the reader may identify in the offer. The words in the epilogue are thus very guarded and qualificatory. Just one example about our focus: conversational implicate and conversation as rational co-operation. He goes back to Essay 2, but as he notes, this was hardly the first word on the principle of conversational helpfulness, nor indeed the first occasion where he actually used implicature. As regards co-operation, the retrospective epilogue allows him to expand on a causal phrasing in Essay 2, “purposive, indeed rational.” Seeing in retrospect how the idea of rationality was the one that appealed philosophers most – since it provides a rationale and justification for what is otherwise an arbitrary semantic proliferation. Grice then distinguishes between the thesis that conversation is purposive, and the thesis that conversation is rational. And, whats more, and in excellent Griceian phrasing, there are two theses here, too. One thing is to see conversation as rational, and another, to use his very phrasing, as rational co-operation! Therefore, when one discusses the secondary literature, one should be attentive to whether the author is referring to Grices qualifications in the Retrospective epilogue. Grice is careful to date some items. However, since he kept rewriting, one has to be careful. These seven folder contain the material for the compilation. Grice takes the opportunity of the compilation by Harvard of his WOW, representative of the mid-60s, i. e. past the heyday of ordinary-language philosophy, to review the idea of philosophical progress in terms of eight different strands which display, however, a consistent and distinctive unity. Grice keeps playing with valediction, valedictory, prospective and retrospective, and the different drafts are all kept in The Grice Papers. The Retrospective epilogue, is divided into two sections. In the first section, he provides input for his eight strands, which cover not just meaning, and the assertion-implication distinction to which he alludes to in the preface, but for more substantial philosophical issues like the philosophy of perception, and the defense of common sense realism versus the sceptial idealist. The concluding section tackles more directly a second theme he had idenfitied in the preface, which is a methodological one, and his long-standing defence of ordinary-language philosophy. The section involves a fine distinction between the Athenian dialectic and the Oxonian dialectic, and tells the tale about his fairy godmother, G*. As he notes, Grice had dropped a few words in the preface explaining the ordering of essays in the compilation. He mentions that he hesitated to follow a suggestion by Bennett that the ordering of the essays be thematic and chronological. Rather, Grice chooses to publish the whole set of seven James lectures, what he calls the centerpiece, as part I. II, the explorations in semantics and metaphysics, is organised more or less thematically, though. In the Retrospective epilogue, Grice takes up this observation in the preface that two ideas or themes underlie his Studies: that of meaning, and assertion vs. implication, and philosophical methodology. The Retrospective epilogue is thus an exploration on eight strands he identifies in his own philosophy. Grices choice of strand is careful. For Grice, philosophy, like virtue, is entire. All the strands belong to the same knit, and therefore display some latitudinal, and, he hopes, longitudinal unity, the latter made evidence by his drawing on the Athenian dialectic as a foreshadow of the Oxonian dialectic to come, in the heyday of the Oxford school of analysis, when an interest in the serious study of ordinary language had never been since and will never be seen again. By these two types of unity, Grice means the obvious fact that all branches of philosophy (philosophy of language, or semantics, philosophy of perception, philosophical psychology, metaphysics, axiology, etc.) interact and overlap, and that a historical regard for ones philosophical predecessors is a must, especially at Oxford. Why is Grice obsessed with asserting? He is more interested, technically, in the phrastic, or dictor. Grice sees a unity, indeed, equi-vocality, in the buletic-doxastic continuum. Asserting is usually associated with the doxastic. Since Grice is always ready to generalise his points to cover the buletic (recall his Meaning, “theres by now no reason to stick to informative cases,”), it is best to re-define his asserting in terms of the phrastic. This is enough of a strong point. As Hare would agree, for emotivists like Barnes, say, an utterance of buletic force may not have any content whatsoever. For Grice, there is always a content, the proposition which becomes true when the action is done and the desire is fulfilled or satisfied. Grice quotes from Bennett. Importantly, Grice focuses on the assertion/non-assertion distinction. He overlooks the fact that for this or that of his beloved imperative utterance, asserting is out of the question, but explicitly conveying that p is not.  He needs a dummy to stand for a psychological or souly state, stance, or attitude of either boule or doxa, to cover the field of the utterer mode-neutrally conveying explicitly that his addressee A is to entertain that p. The explicatum or explicitum sometimes does the trick, but sometimes it does not. It is interesting to review the Names index to the volume, as well as the Subjects index. This is a huge collection, comprising 14 folders. By contract, Grice was engaged with Harvard, since its the President of the College that holds the copyrights for the James lectures. The title Grice eventually chooses for his compilation of essays, which goes far beyond the James, although keeping them as the centerpiece, is a tribute to Locke, who, although obsessed with his idealist and empiricist new way of ideas, leaves room for both the laymans and scientists realist way of things, and, more to the point, for this or that philosophical semiotician to offer this or that study in the way of words. Early in the linguistic turn minor revolution, the expression the new way of words, had been used derogatorily. WOW is organised in two parts: Logic and conversation and the somewhat pretentiously titled Explorations in semantics and metaphysics, which offers commentary around the centerpiece. It also includes a Preface and a very rich and inspired Retrospective epilogue. From part I, the James lectures, only three had not been previously published. The first unpublished lecture is Prolegomena, which really sets the scene, and makes one wonder what the few philosophers who quote from The logic of grammar could have made from the second James lecture taken in isolation. Grice explores Aristotle’s “to alethes”: “For the true and the false exist with respect to synthesis and division (peri gar synthesin kai diaireisin esti to pseudos kai to alethes).” Aristotle insists upon the com-positional form of truth in several texts: cf. De anima, 430b3 ff.: “in truth and falsity, there is a certain composition (en hois de kai to pseudos kai to alethes, synthesis tis)”; cf. also Met. 1027b19 ff.: the true and the false are with respect to (peri) composition and decomposition (synthesis kai diaresis).” It also shows that Grices style is meant for public delivery, rather than reading. The second unpublished lecture is Indicative conditionals. This had been used by a few philosophers, such as Gazdar, noting that there were many mistakes in the typescript, for which Grice is not to be blamed. The third is Some models for implicature. Since this Grice acknowledges is revised, a comparison with the original handwritten version of the final James lecture retrieves a few differences From Part II, a few essays had not been published before, but Grice, nodding to the longitudinal unity of philosophy, is very careful and proud to date them. Commentary on the individual essays is made under the appropriate dates. Philosophical correspondence is quite a genre. Hare would express in a letter to the Librarian for the Oxford Union, “Wiggins does not want to be understood,” or in a letter to Bennett that Williams is the worse offender of Kantianism! It was different with Grice. He did not type. And he wrote only very occasionally! These are four folders with general correspondence, mainly of the academic kind. At Oxford, Grice would hardly keep a correspondence, but it was different with the New World, where academia turns towards the bureaucracy. Grice is not precisely a good, or reliable, as The BA puts it, correspondent. In the Oxford manner, Grice prefers a face-to-face interaction, any day. He treasures his Saturday mornings under Austins guidance, and he himself leads the Play Group after Austins demise, which, as Owen reminisced, attained a kind of cult status. Oxford is different. As a tutorial fellow in philosophy, Grice was meant to tutor his students; as a University Lecturer he was supposed to lecture sometimes other fellowss tutees! Nothing about this reads: publish or perish! This is just one f. containing Grices own favourite Griceian references. To the historian of analytic philosophy, it is of particular interest. It shows which philosophers Grice respected the most, and which ones the least. As one might expect, even on the cold shores of Oxford, as one of Grices tutees put it, Grice is cited by various Oxford philosophers. Perhaps the first to cite Grice in print is his tutee Strawson, in “Logical Theory.” Early on, Hart quotes Grice on meaning in his review in The Philosophical Quarterly of Holloways Language and Intelligence before Grices Meaning had been published. Obviously, once Grices and Strawsons In defense of a dogma and Grices Meaning are published by The Philosophical Review, Grice is discussed profusely. References to his implicature start to appear in the literature at Oxford in the mid-1960s, within Grices Play Group, as in Hare and Pears. It is particularly intriguing to explore those philosophers Grice picks up for dialogue, too, and perhaps arrange them alphabetically, from Austin to Warnock, say. And Griceian philosophical references, Oxonian or other, as they should, keep counting! The way to search the Grice Papers here is using alternate keywords, notably “meaning.” “Meaning” s. II, “Utterer’s meaning and intentions,” s. II, “Utterer’s meaning, sentence-meaning, and word meaning,” s. II, “Meaning revisited,” s. II. – but also “Meaning and psychology,” s. V, c.7-ff.  24-25. While Grice uses “signification,” and lectured on Peirce’s “signs,” “Peirce’s general theory of signs,” (s. V, c. 8-f. 29), he would avoid such pretentiously sounding expressions. Searching under ‘semantic’ and ‘semantics’ (“Grammar and semantics,” c. 7-f. 5; “Language semantics,” c. 7-f.20, “Basic Pirotese, sentence semantics and syntax,” c. 8-f. 30, “Semantics of children’s language,” c. 9-f. 10, “Sentence semantics” (c. 9-f. 11); “Sentence semantics and propositional complexes,” c. 9-f.12, “Syntax and semantics,” c. 9-ff. 17-18) may help, too. Folder on Schiffer (“Schiffer,” c. 9-f. 9), too.

complexum: While Grice does have an essay on the ‘complexum,’ he is mostly being jocular. His dissection of the proposition proceds by considering ‘the a,’ and its denotatum, or reference, and ‘is the b,’ which involves then the predication. This is Grice’s shaggy-dog story. Once we have ‘the dog is shaggy,’ we have a ‘complexum,’ and we can say that the utterer means, by uttering ‘Fido is shaggy,’ that the dog is hairy-coated. Simple, right? It’s the jocular in Grice. He is joking on philosophers who look at those representative of the linguistic turn, and ask, “So what do you have to say about reference and predication,’ and Grice comes up with an extra-ordinary analysis of what is to believe that the dog is hairy-coat, and communicating it. In fact, the ‘communicating’ is secondary. Once Grice has gone to metabolitical extension of ‘mean’ to apply to the expression, communication becomes secondary in that it has to be understood in what Grice calls the ‘atenuated’ usage involving this or that ‘readiness’ to have this or that procedure, basic or resultant, in one’s repertoire! Bealer is one of Grices most brilliant tutees in the New World. The Grice collection contains a full f. of correspondence with Bealer. Bealer refers to Grice in his influential Clarendon essay on content. Bealer is concerned with how pragmatic inference may intrude in the ascription of a psychological, or souly, state, attitude, or stance. Bealer loves to quote from Grice on definite descriptions in Russell and in the vernacular, the implicature being that Russell is impenetrable! Bealers mentor is Grices close collaborator Myro, so he knows what he is talking about. Refs.: The main reference is in ‘Reply to Richards.’ But there is “Sentence semantics and propositional complexes,” c. 9-f. 12, BANC.

conjunction: Grice lists ‘and’ as the first binary functor in his response to Strawson. Grice’s conversationalist hypothesis applies to this central ‘connective.’ Interestingly, in his essay on Aristotle, and discussing, “French poet,” Grice distinguishes between conjunction and adjunction. “French” is adjuncted to ‘poet,’ unlike ‘fat’ in ‘fat philosopher.’  Refs.The main published source is “Studies in the Way of Words” (henceforth, “WOW”), I (especially Essays 1 and 4), “Presupposition and conversational implicature,” in P. Cole, and the two sets on ‘Logic and conversation,’ in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

conditional: Grice lists ‘if’ as the third binary functor in his response to Strawson. ‘If’ was of particular interest to Grice. The interest in the ‘if’ is double in Grice. In doxastic contexts, he needs it for his analysis of ‘intending’ against an ‘if’-based dispositional (i.e. subjective-conditional) analysis. He is of course, later interested in how Strawson misinterpreted the ‘indicative’ conditional! It is later when he starts to focus on the ‘buletic’ mood marker, that he wants to reach to Paton’s categorical (i.e. non-hypothetical) imperative. And in so doing, he has to face the criticism of those Oxonian philosophers who were sceptical about the very idea of a conditional buletic (‘conditional command – what kind of a command is that?’. Grice would refere to the protasis, or antecedent, as a relativiser – where we go again to the ‘absolutum’-‘relativum’ distinction. The conditional is also paramount in Grice’s criticism of Ryle, where the keyword would rather be ‘disposition.’ Then ther eis the conditional and disposition. Grice is a philosophical psychologist. Does that make sense? So are Austin (Other Minds), Hampshire (Dispositions), Pears (Problems in philosophical psychology) and Urmson (Parentheticals). They are ALL against Ryle’s silly analysis in terms of single-track disposition" vs. "many-track disposition," and "semi-disposition." If I hum and walk, I can either hum or walk. But if I heed mindfully, while an IN-direct sensing may guide me to YOUR soul, a DIRECT sensing guides me to MY soul. When Ogden consider attacks to meaning, theres what he calls the psychological, which he ascribes to Locke Grices attitude towards Ryle is difficult to assess. His most favourable assessment comes from Retrospective epilogue, but then he is referring to Ryle’s fairy godmother. Initially, he mentions Ryle as a philosopher engaged in, and possibly dedicated to the practice of the prevailing Oxonian methodology, i.e. ordinary-language philosophy. Initially, then, Grice enlists Ryle in the regiment of ordinary-language philosophers. After introducing Athenian dialectic and Oxonian dialectic, Grice traces some parallelisms, which should not surprise. It is tempting to suppose that Oxonian dialectic reproduces some ideas of Athenian dialectic.  It would actually be surprising if there were no parallels. Ryle was, after all, a skilled and enthusiastic student of Grecian philosophy. Interestingly, Grice then has Ryles fairy godmother as proposing the idea that, far from being a basis for rejecting the analytic-synthetic distinction, opposition that there are initially two distinct bundles of statements, bearing the labels analytic and synthetic, lying around in the world of thought waiting to be noticed, provides us with the key to making the analytic-synthetic distinction acceptable. The essay has a verificationist ring to it. Recall Ayer and the verificationists trying to hold water with concepts like fragile and the problem of counterfactual conditionals vis-a-vis observational and theoretical concepts. Grices essay has two parts: one on disposition as such, and the second, the application to a type of psychological disposition, which would be phenomenalist in a way, or verificationist, in that it derives from introspection of, shall we say, empirical phenomena. Grice is going to analyse, I want a sandwich. One person wrote in his manuscript, there is something with the way Grice goes to work. Still. Grice says that I want a sandwich (or I will that I eat a sandwich) is problematic, for analysis, in that it seems to refer to experience that is essentially private and unverifiable. An analysis of intending that p in terms of being disposed that p is satisfied solves this. Smith wants a sandwich, or he wills that he eats a sandwich, much as Toby needs nuts, if Smith opens the fridge and gets one. Smith is disposed to act such that p is satisfied. This Grice opposes to the ‘special-episode’ analysis of intending that p. An utterance like I want a sandwich iff by uttering the utterance, the utterer is describing this or that private experience, this or that private sensation. This or that sensation may take the form of a highly specific souly sate, like what Grice calls a sandwich-wanting-feeling. But then, if he is not happy with the privacy special-episode analysis, Grice is also dismissive of Ryles behaviourism in The concept of mind, fresh from the press, which would describe the utterance in terms purely of this or that observable response, or behavioural output, provided this or that sensory input. Grice became friendlier with functionalism after Lewis taught him how.  The problem or crunch is with the first person. Surely, Grice claims, one does not need to wait to observe oneself heading for the fridge before one is in a position to know that he is hungry.  Grice poses a problem for the protocol-reporter. You see or observe someone else, Smith, that Smith wants a sandwich, or wills that he eats a sandwich. You ask for evidence. But when it is the agent himself who wants the sandwich, or wills that he eats a sandwich, Grice melodramatically puts it, I am not in the audience, not even in the front row of the stalls; I am on the stage. Genial, as you will agree. Grice then goes on to offer an analysis of intend, his basic and target attitude, which he has just used to analyse and rephrase Peirces mean and which does relies on this or that piece of dispositional evidence, without divorcing itself completely from the privileged status or access of first-person introspective knowledge. In “Uncertainty,” Grice weakens his reductive analysis of intending that, from neo-Stoutian, based on certainty, or assurance, to neo-Prichardian, based on predicting. All very Oxonian: Stout was the sometime Wilde reader in mental philosophy (a post usually held by a psychologist, rather than a philosopher ‒ Stouts favourite philosopher is psychologist James! ‒ and Prichard was Cliftonian and the proper White chair of moral philosophy. And while in “Uncertainty” he allows that willing that may receive a physicalist treatment, qua state, hell later turn a functionalist, discussed under ‘soul, below, in his “Method in philosophical psychology (from the banal to the bizarre” (henceforth, “Method”), in the Proceedings and Addresses of the American Philosophical Association, repr. in “Conception.” Grice can easily relate to Hamsphires "Thought and Action," a most influential essay in the Oxonian scene. Rather than Ryle! And Grice actually addresses further topics on intention drawing on Hampshire, Hart, and his joint collaboration with Pears. Refs.: The main reference is Grice’s early essay on disposition and intention, The H. P. Grice. Refs.: The main published source is Essay 4 in WOW, but there are essays on ‘ifs and cans,’ so ‘if’ is a good keyword, on ‘entailment,’ and for the connection with ‘intending,’ ‘disposition and intention,’ BANC.

conversational benevolence: The type of rationality that Grice sees in conversational is one that sees conversation as ‘rational co-operation.’ So it is obvious that he has to invoke some level of benevolence. When tutoring his rather egoistic tutees he had to be careful, so he hastened to add a principle of conversational self-love. It was different when lecturing outside a tutorial! In fact ‘benevolence’ here is best understood as ‘altruism’. So, if there is a principle of conversational egoism, there is a correlative principle of conversational altruism. If Grice uses ‘self-love,’ there is nothing about ‘love,’ in ‘benevolence.’ Butler may have used ‘other-love’! Even if of course we must start with the Grecians! We must not forget that Plato and Aristotle despised "autophilia", the complacency and self-satisfaction making it into the opposite of "epimeleia heautou” in Plato’s Alcibiades. Similarly, to criticize Socratic ethics as a form of egoism in opposition to a selfless care of others is inappropriate. Neither a self-interested seeker of wisdom nor a dangerous teacher of self-love, Socrates, as the master of epimeleia heautou, is the hinge between the care of self and others. One has to be careful here. A folk-etymological connection between ‘foam’ may not be needed – when the Romans had to deal with Grecian ‘aphrodite.’ This requires that we look for another linguistic botany for Grecian ‘self-love’ that Grice opposes to ‘benevolentia.’ Hesiod derives Aphrodite from “ἀφρός,” ‘sea-foam,’ interpreting the name as "risen from the foam", but most modern scholars regard this as a spurious folk etymology. Early modern scholars of classical mythology attempted to argue that Aphrodite's name was of Greek or Indo-European origin, but these efforts have now been mostly abandoned. Aphrodite's name is generally accepted to be of non-Greek, probably Semitic, origin, but its exact derivation cannot be determined. Scholars in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, accepting Hesiod's "foam" etymology as genuine, analyzed the second part of Aphrodite's name as -odítē "wanderer" or -dítē "bright". Janda, also accepting Hesiod's etymology, has argued in favor of the latter of these interpretations and claims the story of a birth from the foam as an Indo-European mytheme.Similarly, Krzysztof Tomasz Witczak proposes an Indo-European compound abʰor-, very" and dʰei- "to shine", also referring to Eos. Other scholars have argued that these hypotheses are unlikely since Aphrodite's attributes are entirely different from those of both Eos and the Vedic deity Ushas.A number of improbable non-Greek etymologies have also been suggested. One Semitic etymology compares Aphrodite to the Assyrian barīrītu, the name of a female demon that appears in Middle Babylonian and Late Babylonian texts.Hammarström looks to Etruscan, comparing eprϑni "lord", an Etruscan honorific loaned into Greek as πρύτανις.This would make the theonym in origin an honorific, "the lady".Most scholars reject this etymology as implausible, especially since Aphrodite actually appears in Etruscan in the borrowed form Apru (from Greek Aphrō, clipped form of Aphrodite). The medieval Etymologicum Magnum offers a highly contrived etymology, deriving Aphrodite from the compound habrodíaitos (ἁβροδίαιτος), "she who lives delicately", from habrós and díaita. The alteration from b to ph is explained as a "familiar" characteristic of Greek "obvious from the Macedonians". It is much easier with the Romans. The Short and Lewis have: “ămor,” old form “ămŏs,” “like honos, labos, colos, etc., Plaut. Curc. 1, 2, 2; v. Neue, Formenl. I. p. 170),” obviously from verb “amare,” and which they render as “love,” as in Grice’s “conversational self-love.” Your tutor will reprimand you if you spend too much linguistic botany on ‘eros.’ “Go straight to ‘philos.’” But no. There are philosophical usages of ‘eros,’ especially when it comes to the Grecian philosophers Grice is interested in: Aristotle reading Plato, which becomes Ariskant reading Plathegel. So, Liddell and Scott have “ἔρως” which of course is from a verb, or two: “ἕραμαι,” “ἐράω,” and which they render as “love, mostly of the sexual passion, ““θηλυκρατὴς ἔ.,” “ἐρῶσ᾽ ἔρωτ᾽ ἔκδημον,” “ἔ. τινός love for one, S.Tr.433, “παίδων” E. Ion67, and “generally, love of a thing, desire for it,” ““πατρῴας γῆς” “δεινὸς εὐκλείας ἔ.” “ἔχειν ἔμφυτον ἔρωτα περί τι” Plato, Lg. 782e ; “πρὸς τοὺς λόγους” (love of law), “ἔρωτα σχὼν τῆς Ἑλλάδος τύραννος γενέσθαι” Hdt.5.32 ; ἔ. ἔχει με c. inf., A.Supp.521 ; “θανόντι κείνῳ συνθανεῖν ἔρως μ᾽ ἔχει” S.Fr.953 ; “αὐτοῖς ἦν ἔρως θρόνους ἐᾶσθαι” Id.OC367 ; ἔ. ἐμπίπτει μοι c. inf., A.Ag.341, cf. Th.6.24 ; εἰς ἔρωτά τινος ἀφικέσθαι, ἐλθεῖν, Antiph.212.3,Anaxil.21.5 : pl., loves, amours, “ἀλλοτρίων” Pi.N.3.30 ; “οὐχ ὅσιοι ἔ.” E.Hipp.765 (lyr.) ; “ἔρωτες ἐμᾶς πόλεως” Ar.Av.1316 (lyr.), etc. ; of dolphins, “πρὸς παῖδας” Arist.HA631a10 : generally, desires, S.Ant.617 (lyr.). 2. object of love or desire, “ἀπρόσικτοι ἔρωτες” Pi.N.11.48, cf. Luc.Tim.14. 3. passionate joy, S.Aj.693 (lyr.); the god of love, Anacr.65, Parm.13, E.Hipp.525 (lyr.), etc.“Έ. ἀνίκατε μάχαν” S.Ant.781 (lyr.) : in pl., Simon.184.3, etc. III. at Nicaea, a funeral wreath, EM379.54. IV. name of the κλῆρος Ἀφροδίτης, Cat.Cod.Astr.1.168 ; = third κλῆρος, Paul.Al.K.3; one of the τόποι, Vett.Val.69.16. And they’ll point to you that the Romans had ‘amor’ AND ‘cupidus’ (which they meant as a transliteration of epithumia). If for Kant and Grice it is the intention that matters, ill-will counts. If Smith does not want Jones have a job, Smith has ill-will towards Jones. This is all Kant and Grice need to call Smith a bad person. It means it is the ill-will that causes Joness not having a job. A conceptual elucidation. Interesting from a historical point of view seeing that Grice had introduced a principle of conversational benevolence (i.e. conversational goodwill) pretty early. Malevolentia was over-used by Cicero, translating the Grecian. Grice judges that if Jones fails to get the job that benevolent Smith promised, Smith may still be deemed, for Kant, if not Aristotle, to have given him the job. A similar elucidation was carried by Urmson with his idea of supererogation (heroism and sainthood). For a hero or saint, someones goodwill but not be good enough! Which does not mean it is ill, either! Refs.: The source is Grice’s seminar in the first set on ‘Logic and conversation.’ The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

conversational candour: it is all about confidence, you know. U expects A will find him confident. Thus we find in Short and Lewis, “confīdo,” wich they render as “to trust confidently in something,” and also, “confide in, rely firmly upon, to believe, be assured of,” as an enhancing of “sperare,” in Cicero’s Att. 6, 9, 1. Trust and rationality are pre-requisites of conversation. Urmson develops this. They phrase in Urmson is "implied claim." Whenever U makes a conversational contribution in a standard context, there is an implied claim to U being trustworthy and reasonable.  What do Grice and Urmson mean by an "implied claim"? It is obvious enough, but they both love to expand. Whenever U utters an expression which can be used to convey truth or falsehood there is an implied claim to trustworthiness by U, unless the situation shows that this is not so. U may be acting or reciting or incredulously echoing the remark of another, or flouting the expectation. This, Grice and Urmson think, may need an explanation.  Suppose that U utters, in an ordinary circumstance, ‘It will rain tomorrow,’ or ‘It rained yesterday,’ or ‘It is raining.’ This act carries with it the claim that U should be trusted and licenses A to believe that it will rain tomorrow. By this is meant that just as it is understood that no U will give an order unless he is entitled to give orders, so it is understood that no U will utter a sentence of a kind which can be used to make a statement unless U is willing to claim that that statement is true, and hence one would be acting in a misleading manner if one uttered the sentence if he was not willing to make that claim. Here, the predicate “implies that …,” Grice, Grant, Moore, Nowell-Smith, and Urmson hasten to add, is being used in such a way that, if there is a an expectation that a thing is done in Circumstance C, U implies that C holds if he does the thing. The point is often made if not always in the terms Grice uses, and it is, Urmson and Grice believe, in substance uncontroversial. Grice and Urmson wish to make the point that, when an utterer U deploys a hedge with an indicative sentence, there is not merely an implied claim that the whole statement is true but also that is true. This is surely obvious in some cases. Some examples: “I believe it will rain,” “He is, I regret, too fast;” “You intend, I gather, to refuse.” Grice and Urmson observe that a little thought shows that it is also true in the case of, say, “I hear that he is ill in bed,” or “He is, I hear, ill in bed.” An utterer would not say these things if he did not accept the report on which the statement is based, and, by saying it, U implies that he can be claimed to be trustworthy. Grice had been more careful than Urmson. But Grice is a modista. In the use favoured by Grice, and notably contra Moore, by uttering an expression explicitly conveying a primary buletic or doxastic claim, U crucially, not ceteris paribus, ‘expresses’ (and not merely ‘implies’) that U believes that p or desires that p be satisfied. The implied or expressed claim by the utterer to trustworthiness need not be very strong. The whole point of a hedge is to modify or weaken (if not, as Grice would have it, flout) the claim by U to full trustworthiness which would be implied by the unhedged assertion.  But even if U utters “He is, I suppose, at home;” or “I guess that the penny will come down heads," U expresses, or for Urmson plainly implies, with however little reason, that this is what U accepts as worth the trust by A. U often has an emotional attitude to the fact he states, or it is likely to arouse emotion in A.  To some extent, both by accident and by design, the manner, intonation and choice of expression betray the attitude of U, and prepares A.  But this is imprecise and uncertain, and, difficult to get right for all but the great stylist. Content and manner give some clue to A of how he is to understand the statement in relation to its context, but not infallibly.  Further, U makes his statement sometimes with good or adequate, sometimes with moderate, sometimes with poor evidence.  Which of these situations U is in need not be obvious to A, and it would be cumbersome always to convey explicitly.  It is the contention of Grice and Urmson that a hedge is just one of the sets of devices that U uses in order to deal with these matters, though not the only set.  By a hedge U primes A to see the emotional significance, the relevance, and the reliability of his statement.  This U does not by explicitly conveying to A how he is moved or how he should be moved by the statement, nor by explicitly conveying him how the statement fits into the context, nor by describing the evidential situation, but by the use of warning, priming or orientating signals.  The utterer shows and ‘expresses,’ rather than explicitly conveys.  This contention may be elaborated. Suppose that U goes to a mother in wartime as a messenger to inform her of the death of her son. U can, no doubt, merely say “Madam, your son is dead.” But this would be abrupt and harsh, and U would more probably say “Madam, I regret that your son is dead.” For anyone other than a great actor it is easier to steer a course between callousness and false sentiment as a stranger bearing news by the use of a hedge in this way than by means of intonation. Clearly the utterer is mainly bearing news, and the addition of "I regret,” not necessarily at the beginning of the sentence, shows, without it being explicitly conveyed that it is being offered, and will be received as, sad news. U is not being a hypocrite, even within the excusable, conventional, limits of hypocrisy, if he personally has no feelings on the matter at all. Messengers of that sort can rarely have much feeling in wartime about each case. If we turn to a less purely parenthetical use of the same verity we shall find that the essential point remains the same. As a friend of the family, U goes to the mother when the death is well known and says, “I much regret that your son is dead. He was a dear friend.” In the circumstance, no doubt, I am no longer bearing news. U is still not ‘describing’ his feelings. It is rather that the signal is being made for its own sake as an act of sympathy, the indicative clause giving the occasion of my sympathy. ‘Regret’ and ‘rejoice’ are two of the most obvious verbs which give emotional orientation when used parenthetically. Another set of these hedges is used to signal how the statement is to be taken as fitting logically into the discussion. “I admit that he is able” assigns the statement that he is able to the logical position of being support for the opposed position, or a part of the opposed position which will not be assailed one shows while saying that he is able that this is to be treated as an admission. In ‘Retrospective epilogue,’ Grice refers to this as a second-order meta-conversational device, a non-central speech act (oppose, object, add, contrast) rather than a central speech act reduced to ordering and stating.  One is forestalling a possible misapprehension.  But don’t you see, that is part of my point.  One is not reporting the occurrence of "a bit of admitting", whatever that may be supposed to be.  In “Smith is, I conclude, the murderer,” the hedge assigns to the statement the status of following from what has been said before, preventing it from being taken as, say, an additional fact to be taken into account. Cf. Grice on “Smith is an Englishman; he is, therefore, brave,” and the conventional implicatum, or colour, of "therefore".  There is no specific activity of "concluding". Other hedges which fulfil approximately similar tasks are “deduce,” “infer,” “presume,” “presuppose,” “confess,” “concede,” “maintain,” and “assume.” Another rough group is constituted by such hedges as “know,” “believe,” “guess,” “suppose,” “suspect,” “estimate,” and, in a metaphorical use, “feel.” Never sense but metaphorical use. Cf. Gric’s  modified Occam’s razor, do not multiply senses beyond necessity, and Urmson’s having learned the lesson (v. his earlier, “On the two senses of ‘probable’"). This group is probably more controversial than the previous ones. This group is used to convey the evidential situation in which the statement is made (though not to ‘describe’ that situation), and hence to signal the degree of reliability is claimed for, and should be accorded to, the statement to which the hedged is conjoined.  Thus  “I think that this is the right road to take” is a weaker way of conveying that this is the right road, and further conveying that U is just plumping and has no adequate evidence, so that the statement will be received with the right amount of caution. “I know,” on the other hand, shows that there is all the adequate evidence one could need. Some of these hedges can clearly be arranged in a scalar set showing the reliability of the conjoined statement according to the wealth of evidence. Such a scalar set may go: “know,” “believe,” “suspect,” “guess,” so that by uttering “I believe,” being on the weak side of the scale, U implies that it is the case that he know. An adverb can make the situation even plainer. “I strongly believe,” “I rather suspect,” and so on. U is, in fact, in a position where he can either make his statement neat, and leave it to the context and the general probabilities to show to A how much credence or trust or candour he should give to the statement; or, in addition to making the statement, U can actually describe the evidential situation in more or less detail; or U can give a warning such as, “Do not rely on this too implicitly, but…”, or U can employ the warning device of a parenthetical verb , “I believe it will rain.” If this is insufficient for any reason (perhaps it is an important matter), A can ask why and get the description of the evidential situation.  Usually, this or that adverb corresponds to this or that parenthetical verb. One cannot ‘weakly know.’ Grice and Urmson mention that a parenthetical verb is not the only device that U has for warning A how his statement is to be taken while making it. It will perhaps make it clearer how a parenthetical verb is used if one of these other devices is briefly outlined.  We are taught at school that an adverb modifies a verb. This is inaccurate. An adverb may quite as loosely attached to a whole expression, as a parenthetical verb does.  Examples are “luckily,” “happily,” “unfortunately,” “consequently,” “presumably,” “admittedly,” “certainly,” “undoubtedly,” “probably,” “possibly,” “otiosely,” and Speranza’s favourite “hopefully” (Speranza _means_ hope).  Note that the position of the adverb is variable in relation to the expression as in the case of a parenthetical verb.  One can say “Unfortunately, he is ill” or “He is, unfortunately, ill.”  If “modify” is to be used the adverb can perhaps be said to “modify” the whole expression to which it are attached.  But how does the adverb “modify” the expression? Surely by giving a warning how the adverb is to be understood. E. g., “Luckily,” “happily,” and “unfortunately” indicate the appropriate attitude to the statement. “Admittedly,” “consequently,” and “presumably,” among others, indicate how to take the statement in regard to the context. “Certainly,” “probably” and “possibly,” among others, show how much reliability is to be ascribed to the statement. No importance should be attached to this grouping of verbs and adverbs into three sets. It has been done purely for convenience in an outline exposition. There are differences between the members of each of the groups and the groups are not sharply divided. It is easy to think of a verb which might with equal reason be placed in either of two groups. The aim is to lay down general lines for the interpretation of a parenthetical, not to do full justice to any of them. Provided that it is not construed as a list of synonyms, we can couple an adverb with a parenthetical verb as follows: “Happily I rejoice,” “Unfortunately I regret,” “Consequently I deduce, or I infer, “Presumably, I presume,” “Admittedly  I admit. “Certainly” compares to "I know, cf. “knowingly.” “Probably” compares to “I believe.” cf. “unbelievably,” and “believably.”This is not, Grice and Urmson repeat, a list of synonyms. Apart from questions of nuance of meaning, an adverb is more impersonal. "Admittedly" suggests that what is said would be regarded by anyone as an admission. “I admit” shows only the way that the statement is to be regarded here, by U. Also it is not possible to say that every adverb has a verb corresponding to it which has more or less the same import, or vice versa. But it does seem that an adverb and a parenthetical verb play much the same role and have much the same grammatical relation to the statements which they accompany, and that, therefore, the comparison is illuminating in both directions. Now Grice and Urmson meet an objection which is made by some philosophers to this comparison. Grice and Urmson intend to meet the objection by a fairly detailed examination of the example which they themselves would most likely choose. In doing this Grice and Urmson further explain the use of a parenthetical verb. The adverb is "probably" and the verb is “I believe.” To say, that something is probable, the imaginary objector will say, is to imply that it is reasonable to believe, that the evidence justifies a guarded claim for the trust or trustworthiness of U and the truth of the statement. But to say that someone else, a third person, believes something does not imply that it is reasonable for U or A to believe it, nor that the evidence justifies the guarded or implied claim to factivity or truth which U makes. Therefore, the objector continues, the difference between the use of “I believe” and “probably” is not, as Grice and Urmson suggest, merely one of nuance and degree of impersonality. In one case, “probably,” reasonableness is implied; in the other, “believe,” it is not. This objection is met by Grice and Urmson. They do so by making a general point. To use the rational-reasonable distinction in “Conversational implicature” and “Aspects,” there is an implied claim by U to reasonableness.  Further to an implied claim to trust whenever a sentence is uttered in a standard context, now Grice and Urmson add, to meet the sceptical objection about the contrast between “probably” and “I believe” that, whenever U makes a statement in a standard context there is an implied claim to reasonableness. This contention must be explained alla Kant. Cf. Strawson on the presumption of conversational relevance, and Austin, Moore, Nowell-Smith, Grant, and Warnock. To use Hart’s defeasibility, and Hall’s excluder, unless U is acting or story-telling, or preface his remarks with some such phrase as “I know Im being silly, but …” or,  “I admit it is unreasonable, but …”  it is, Grice and Urmson think, a presupposition or expectation of communication or conversation that a communicator will not make a statement, thereby implying this trust, unless he has some  ground, however tenuous, for the statement. To utter “The King is visiting Oxford tomorrow,” or “The President of the BA has a corkscrew in his pocket,” and then, when asked why the utterer is uttering that, to answer “Oh, for no reason at all,” would be to sin, theologically, against the basic conventions governing the use of discourse. Grice goes on to provide a Kantian justification for that, hence his amusing talk of maxims and stuff.  Therefore, Urmson and Grice think there is an implied or expressed claim to  reasonableness  which goes with all our statements, i.e. there is a mutual expectation that a communicator will not make a statement unless he is prepared to claim and defend its reasonablenesss. This bears on the expression of desire/belief and desirability/probability. When U utters “I believe,” not “I know,” as in “I believe that Smith he is at home,” or “Smith is, I believe (but not know), at home,” the utterer implies (or expresses as Grice prefer, since this is the modus significandi of both the buletic and the doxastic mode) a guarded claim of U’s being trustworthy and reasonable re: the statement that Smith is at home.  Thus, if our sceptical objector points out that only “Probably he is at home,” but not “I believe he is at home,” implies, in the view of the utterer, the reasonableness and justifiability of the statement, Grice answers that this is equally true of “believe” in the first-person present, in such a form as “I believe that Smith is at home.” What the objector fails to do is to notice the vast array of situations in which “believe” is used. Grice singles out some, but only some, of these uses. First scenario: Jones says to Williams: “Smith is, I believe, at home.” Here Jones makes an implied guarded claim (that is the effect of adding “I believe”) to his being trustworthy (a maxim enjoining the ‘satisfactoriness value’), but also an implied claim to his being reasonable (a maxim enjoining the good grounds) re: the statement to the effect that Smith is at home. Now, second scenario. Williams, reports Jones and says to Roberts: “Smith is, Jones believes, at home,” or, to use the ‘that’-clause,” “Jones believes that Smith is at home.” This is oratio obliqua, reporting the parenthetical use of the verb by Jones. By uttering the sentence, Williams implies, and trust Roberts will assume, that both he and Jones are being trustworthy and reasonable re: the statement that Jones has made the statement that Smith is at home. Jones thereby implying its truth and reasonableness with the conventional warning signal about the evidential situation. A third scenario has Jones, who has discovered that there has been a sudden railway stoppage, sees Jones making his habitual morning dash to the station, and says, “Smith believes that the trains are working.” This is a new, and, however important, derivative, use of “believe.” Note that in this context Jones could not play with the position of the verb in the expression, and say, “The trains, Smith believes, are working.” But Jones can say: “The trains, if Smith is to be believed, are working.” Jones, who has probably not considered the matter at all, is behaving in the way that someone who is prepared to say “The trains are running” or “I believe that the trains are running” would behave. No doubt, he would be prepared to say one or other of these things if he considers the matter. We thus in a perfectly intelligible way, extend our use of “believe” to this third scenario in which a person behaves as a person who has considered the evidence and is willing to say “I believe” would consistently behave. In this case, but in this case alone, there is some point in saying, as Ryle would like, that “believe” is used ‘dispositionally,’ rather than reporting an occurrence of a soul. But note that ‘believe’ is so used with reference to another use of ‘believe.’ It is also noteworthy that ‘believe’ cannot be so used in the first-person present. To say “I believe” in this way is no more logically possible than to say “I am under the delusion that …” (cf. illusion, below). “I believe” is always used parenthetically, though not always purely so. If one does recognize that a belief that one has held is unreasonable, one either gives it up or is driven to saying “I cannot *help* believing.” This is psychological history, and carries with it no claim to truth or reasonableness. Thus we see that “Smith believes that p” does not imply the reasonableness of "p" any more than “It seems probable to Smith that p” does. On the other hand, both "Probably p" and “I believe that p” do imply or express the reasonableness of the U re: p. Thus, so far at least as we are concerned with the objection about reasonableness, the parallel between an adverb, “probably” (or “certainly”) and a verb, “I believe,” or “I know,”  stands the test without difficulty. Of old, since Plato, philosophers have tried to find a primary ‘occurrent,’ or ‘single episodic’ use of ‘intend’ and ‘believe’ as a psychological ‘description.’ Austin showed the conversational baffleness of this. But the philosopher need not resorts to a Ryle-inspired analysis of ‘intend’ or ‘believe’ in terms of ‘disposition.’ If it does not describe an occurrence or single episode, ‘intend’ or ‘believe’ must describe a tendency or disposition to an occurrence of an action or behaviour.  There is some point in the reply to this that ‘intend’ and ‘believe’ is here analysed as being the behaviour, if any, which would consistently accompany itself. The fact that in the analysis of ‘intend’ and ‘believe’ the primary use is not ‘descriptive,’ but ‘parenthetical use seems to illuminate if not resolve the dispute. This far from exhausts all the relevant considerations, but the aim of Grice and Urmson is not to examine any one parenthetical verb exhaustively. Rather, the aim is to shed new light on this or that verb related to the ‘soul,’ presenting them as a group. Grice and Urmson want to say the main things which may be said about this or that verb which are not normally considered together as an aid to the thorough examination of each which Grice or Urmson do not undertake. Individually, a verb like ‘intend’ or ‘believe’ cannot be exhaustively treated in its capacity or displaying a parenthetical use. Grice and Urmson must not be taken as suggesting that it can.  Further consideration of the third scenario above is required. “I guess” has a colloquial use in which its significance is, at the best, very indeterminate -- or as Speranza would prefer, "otiose". But in a stricter use, ‘guess’ serves to warn that what is being said is a hunch (Grice’s example, “I guess I’ll climb Everest”). Suppose that one is asked, “Do you know who called this afternoon?” One answers: “No, but I guess that it was Mrs. Smith.” Even here one is making an implied claim that it was Mrs. Smith who called and that this is a reasonable thing to say. If one had said, “I guess that it was Mr. Stalin,” one would have been making a clumsy joke and not really guessing at all. It seems to Urmson and Grice to be difficult that any philosopher should think that “guess” describes or reports a state or a tendency or disposition to behave in any special way (cf. ‘you know,’ or ‘you know what I mean,’ cf. Mura). “I guess” is put in to show that one is making one’s statement without any specific evidence, that it is, in fact, a hunch. What makes it a hunch need not be psychological state nor a disposition to behave in any way. If it is a hunch, the expression is conveyed without any specific evidence, and it is being potentially silly or lucky, not well-based or ill-supported. Grice and Urmson cannot see that there is any essential difference between “guess” on the one hand and “know,” “opine,” and “suspect,” for example, on the other – but cf. Grice on Group C in Prolegomena. The epistemological situation is more complicated in the latter set of cases, and this or that one may have this or that special quirk in its use, “know” being a notorious example, but that is all. Each is essentially the same sort of verb.  It might be worth while to compare this view of “know” with what Austin has in “Other minds,” repr. in Logic and Language).  Much of Grice’s and Urmson’s approach is provoked by the essay by Austin.  Among other, less immediately relevant, things, Austin distinguishes a class of performatory verbs and compares the use of ‘know’ with the use of these verbs.  In particular, Austin compares it with ‘assure,’ and ‘guarantee.’  But Austin is careful not to say that ‘know’ is a performatory verb.  Austin also points out important differences between ‘know’ and ‘assure,’ and ‘guarantee.’ Grice and Urmson agree that the comparison which Austin makes between ‘know’ and performatory verbs is just and illuminating. Performatory and parenthetical verbs have much in common as against this or that ordinary ‘descriptive’, occurrence or single-episode verb. Grice and Urmson are not therefore disagreeing with Austin in acknowledging the nuance, but trying to locate the verb in a class which it is not Austin’s purpose to consider. Grice and Urmson distinguish a set of parenthetical verbs and make some points about their parenthetical use in the first person of the present tense. Each occurs in the present *perfect*, not the continuous tense (cf. Grice, “Someone, viz, I, is not hearing a noise,” and “Someone, viz. I, is hearing a noise”, though its use is different from that of the present perfect tense of verbs which do have a present continuous tense.  Though a verb associated with the ‘soul,’ the verb is not ‘descriptive’ or the soul, even dispositionally. Each functions rather like an ‘ad-verb’ to orient A aright towards the statements with which each is associated. The ways in which the verb does this may be roughly indicated as being an aid to placing the statement aright against the emotional, social, logical, and evidential background.  There is, as when the conjoined statement is used alone, an implied claim for the trustworthiness and reasonableness of U re these associated statements. But a parenthetical verb is not always used parenthetically.  In the first person present, to which use we have so far confined practically all our attention. Grice feels like saying something about their other uses. We may consider the positive analogy. There is a positive analogy, though not a very tidy one.  The analogy seems to hold completely in the case of some verbs. One cannot say “I am intending,” or “He is intending,”“I was believing” or “he is believing,” “I was knowing,” or “he was knowing,” “I was suspecting,” or “He was suspecting.” In the case of some other parenthetical verbs, we find a rare and anomalous *Imperfect” periphrastic tense. One can, e.g. say that you were admitting something if you were interrupted in the middle of a statement which you were making as an admission. Or again, one can say that someone is deducing the consequences of a set of premisses, while he is stating a succession of things as deductions. But none of these is a genuine exception. In the case of another set of these verbs an *imperfect* periphrastic tense is not so strange. At the end of an argument which have been put forth, one might, e. g., say, “All the while you were assuming (presupposing, accepting) that so and so.” But this is not like the *imperfect* periphrastic tense of an ordinary verb which reports or describes an occurrence or single episode, or the continuance throughout a period of some occurrence. I was not throughout the period continuously doing an act of intention or belief or assumption which I carefully refrained from mentioning.  Rather, the utterer was arguing as a man would reasonably argue who was prepared to say, “I assume that so-and-so;” i. e., I was arguing in a way that required so and so as a premiss if the argument is to be valid. I ought, therefore, to be willing to state so-and-so as a premiss.  Thus here, too, the other use has to be understood in the light of the parenthetical use. We must also note that, in general, these verbs can throughout be used in parenthesis. We can say: “Smith was, Jones admitted, able,” or “Jones admitted that Smith was able.” This seems to be so whenever the use is either definite oratio obliqua or, at any rate, a fair paraphrase.  Some verbs, such as “deduce” and “admit,” seem always to be used in this way.  But others, including, as we have already seen “intend,” or the mere ‘will’ and ‘shall,’ or “assume,” “presuppose,” are used, not of a man who has said “I assume” or “I believe” or “I presuppose,” or words to that effect, but of a man who as a man reasonably would who was prepared to say that.  In such a use, which is a genuinely ‘descriptive’ use, the parenthetical insertion of the verb seems to some to be conceptually impossible. Continuing with the positive analogy, it seems to follow from the above that, except in some derivative use, a parenthetical verb is not used as a ‘description’ of a state or disposition of the soul, in other parts of their conjugation any more than in the first person present. And even in the derivative use, it seems to ‘describe,’ if that’s what it does, not a state of the soul, or a disposition to behave, but a general behaviour rather than to be specifically about the soul. The obvious negative analogy is, first, that the adverb can only be used to correspond to the first person. But this negative analogy is only so in a very limited way. If the adverb did correspond exactly to the whole conjugation of the verb, the conjugation would appear to be otiose. But the adverb can be systematically correlated with the whole conjugation of the parenthetical verb with the aid of the verb “to seem.” (“He seems to be intending…”). Cf. Grice’s desideratum of conversational candour, subsumed under the over-arching principle of conversational helpfulness (formerly conversational benevolence-cum-self-love). Grice thinks that the principle of conversational benevolence has to be weighed against the principle of conversational self-love. The result is the overarching principle of conversational helpfulness. Clarity gets in the picture. The desideratum of conversational clarity is a reasonable requirement for conversants to abide by. Grice follows some observations by Warnock. The logical grammar of “trust,” “candour,” “charity,” “sincerity,” “decency,” “honesty,” is subtle, especially when we are considering the two sub-goals of conversation: giving and receiving information/influencing and being influenced by others. In both sub-goals, trust is paramount. The explorations of trust has become an Oxonian hobby, with authors not such like Warnock, but Williams, and others. Grice’s essay is entitled, “Trust, metaphysics, value.” Trust as a corollary of the principle of conversational helpfulness. In a given conversational setting, assuming the principle of conversational helpfulness is operating, U is assumed by A to be trustworthy and candid. There are two modes of trust, which relate to the buletic sub-goal and the doxastic sub-goal which Grice assumes the principle of conversational helpfulness captures:  giving and receiving information, and influencing and being influenced by others. In both sub-goals, trust is key. In the doxastic realm, trust has to do, not so much or only, with truth (with which the expression is cognate), or satisfactoriness-value, but evidence and probability. In the buletic realm, there are the dimensions of satisfactoriness-value (‘good’ versus ‘true’), and ‘ground’ versus evidence, which becomes less crucial. But note that one is trustworthy regarding BOTH the buletic attitude and the doxastic attitude. Grice mentions this or that buletic attitudes which is not usually judged in terms of evidential support (“I vow to thee my country.”) However, in the buletic realm, U is be assumed as trustworthy if U has the buletic attitude he is expressing. The cheater, the insincere, the dishonest, the untrustworthy, for Grice is not irrational, just repugnant. How immoral is the idea that honesty is the best policy? Is Kant right in thinking there is no right to refrain from trust? Surely it is indecent. For Kant, there is no motivation or ‘motive,’ pure or impure, behind telling the truth – it’s just a right, and an obligation – an imperative. Being trustworthy for Kant is associated with a pure motive. Grice agrees. Decency comes into the picture. An indecent agent may still be rational, but in such a case, conversation may still be seen as rational (if not reasonable) and surely not be seen as rational helpfulness or co-operation, but rational adversarial competition, rather, a zero-sum game. Grice found the etymology of ‘decent’ too obscure. Short and Lewis have “dĕcet,” which they deem cognate with Sanscrit “dacas,” ‘fame,’ and Grecian “δοκέω,
 ‘to seem,’ ‘to think,’ and with Latin ‘decus,’ ‘dingus.’ As an impersonal verb, Short and Lewis render it as ‘it is seemly, comely, becoming,; it beseems, behooves, is fitting, suitable, proper (for syn. v. debeo init.): decere quasi aptum esse consentaneumque tempori et personae, Cic. Or. 22, 74; cf. also nunc quid aptum sit, hoc est, quid maxime deceat in oratione videamus, id. de Or. 3, 55, 210 (very freq. and class.; not in Caesar). Grice’s idea of decency is connected to his explorations on rational and reasonable. To cheat may be neither unreasonable nor rational. It is just repulsive. Indecent, in other words. In all this, Grice is concerned with ordinary language, and treasures Austin questioning Warnock, when Warnock was pursuing a fellowship at Magdalen. “What would you say the difference is between ‘Smith plays cricket rather properly’ and ‘Smith plays cricket rather incorrectly’?” They spent the whole dinner over the subtlety. By desserts, Warnock was in love with Austin. Cf. Grice on his prim and proper Aunt Matilda. The exploration by Grice on trust is Warnockian in character, or vice versa. In “Object of morality,” Warnock has trust as key, as indeed, the very object of morality. Grice starts to focus on trust in an Oxford seminars on the implicatum. If there is a desideratum of conversational candour, and the goal of the principle of conversational helpfulness is that of giving and receiving information, and influencing and being influenced by others, ‘false’ ‘information’ is just no information – Since exhibiteness trumps protrepsis, this applies to the buletic, too. Grice loved that Latin dictum, “tuus candor.” He makes an early defence of this in his fatal objection to Malcolm. A philosopher cannot intentionally instill a falsehood in his tutee, such as “Decapitation willed the death of Charles I” (the alleged paraphrase of the paradoxical philosopher saying that ‘causing’ is ‘willing’ and rephrasing “Decapitation was the cause of the death of Charles I.” There is, for both Grice and Apel, a transcendental (if weak) justification, not just utilitarian (honesty as the best policy), as Stalnaker notes in his contribution to the Grice symposium for APA. Unlike Apel, the transcendental argument is a weak one in that Grice aims to show that conversation that did not abide by trust would be unreasonable, but surely still ‘possible.’ It is not a transcendental justification for the ‘existence’ of conversation simpliciter, but for the existence of ‘reasonable,’ decent conversation. If we approach charity in the first person, we trust ourselves that some of our beliefs have to be true, and that some of our desires have to be satisfactory valid, and we are equally trusted by our conversational partners. This is Grice’s conversational golden rule. What would otherwise be the point of holding that conversation is rational co-operation? What would be the point of conversation simpliciter? Urmson follows Austin, so Austin’s considerations on this, notably in “Other minds,” deserve careful examination. Urmson was of course a member of Grice’s play group, and these are the philosophers that we consider top priority. Another one was P. H. Nowell-Smith. At least two of his three rules deserve careful examination. Nowell-Smith notes that this or that ‘rule’ of contextual implication is not meant to be taken as a ‘rigid rule’. Unlike this or that rule of entailment, a conversational rule can be broken without the utterer being involved in self-contradiction or absurdity. When U uses an expression to make a statement, it is contextually implied that he believes it to be true. Similarly, when he uses it to perform any of the other jobs for which sentences are used, it is contextually implied that he is using it for one of the jobs that it normally does. This rule is often in fact broken. Anti-Kantian lying, Bernhard-type play-acting, Andersen-type story-telling, and Wildeian irony is each a case in which U breaks the rule, or flouts the expectation, either overtly or covertly. But each of these four cases is a secondary use, i.e. an use to which an expression cannot logically or conceptually be put unless, as Hart would have it, it has a primary use. There is no limit to the possible uses to which an expression may be put. In many cases a man makes his point by deliberately using an expression in a queer way or even using it in the ‘sense’ opposite to its unique normal one, as in irony (“He is a fine friend,” implying that he is a scoundrel). The distinction between a primary and a secondary use is important because many an argument used by a philosopher consists in pointing out some typical example of the way in which some expression E is used. Such an argument is always illegitimate if the example employed is an example of a secondary use, however common such a use may be. U contextually implies that he has what he himself believes to be good reasons for his statement. Once again, we often break this rule and we have special devices for indicating when we are breaking it. Phrases such as ' speaking offhand . . . ', 'I do not really know but . . . ', and ' I should be inclined to say that . . . ' are used by scrupulous persons to warn his addressee that U has not got what seem to him good reasons for his statement. But unless one of these guarding phrases is used we are entitled to believe that U believes himself to have good reasons for his statement and we soon learn to *mistrust* people who habitually infringe this rule. It is, of course, a mistake to infer from what someone says categorically that he *has* in fact good reasons for what he says. If I tell you, or ‘inform’ to you, that the duck-billed platypus is a bird (because I ' remember ' reading this in a book) I am unreliable; but I am not using language improperly. But if I tell you this without using one of the guarding phrases and without having what I think good reasons, I am. What U says may be assumed to be relevant to the interests of his addressee. This is the most important of the three rules; unfortunately it is also the most frequently broken. Bores are more common than liars or careless talkers. This rule is particularly obvious in the case of answers to questions, since it is assumed that the answer is an answer. Not all statements are answers to questions; information may be volunteered. Nevertheless the publication of a text-book on trigonometry implies that the author believes that there are people who want to learn about trigonometry, and to give advice implies a belief that the advice is relevant to one’s addressee's problem. This rule is of the greatest importance for ethics. For the major problem of ethics is that of bridging the gap between a decisions, an ought-sentence, an injunction, and a sentence used to give advice on the one hand and the statements of *fact*, sometime regarding the U’s soul, that constitute the reasons for these on the other. It is in order to bridge these gaps that insight into necessary synthetic connexions is invoked. This rule of contextual implication may help us to show that there is no gap to be bridged because the reason-giving sentence must turn out to be also *practical* from the start and not a statement of *fact*, even concerning the state of the U’s soul, from which a practical sentence can somehow be deduced. This rule is, therefore, more than a rule of good manners; or rather it shows how, in matters of ordinary language, rules of good manners shade into logical rules. Unless we assume that it is being observed we cannot understand the connexions between decisions, advice, and appraisals and the reasons given in support of them. Refs.: The main reference is in the first set of ‘Logic and conversation.’ Many keywords are useful, not just ‘candour,’ but notably ‘trust.’ (“Rationality and trust,” c. 9-f. 5, “Trust, metaphysics, and value,” c. 9-f. 20, and “Aristotle and friendship, rationality, trust, and decency,” c. 6-f. 18), BANC.

conversational helpfulness: helpfulness is Grice’s favourite virtue. He dedicates a set of seven lectures to it, entitled as follows. Lecture 1, Prolegomena; Lecture 2: Logic and Conversation; Lecture 3: Further notes on logic and conversation; Lecture 4: Indicative conditionals; Lecture 5: Us meaning and intentions; Lecture 6: Us meaning, sentence-meaning, and word-meaning; and Lecture 7: Some models for implicature. I hope they dont expect me to lecture on James! Grice admired James, but not vice versa. Grice entitled the set as being Logic and Conversation. That is the title, also, of the second lecture. Grice keeps those titles seeing that it was way the whole set of lectures were frequently cited, and that the second lecture had been published under that title in Davidson and Harman, The Logic of Grammar. The content of each lecture is indicated below. In the first, Grice manages to quote from Witters. In the last, he didnt!  The original set consisted of seven lectures. To wit: Prolegomena, Logic and conversation, Further notes on logic and conversation, Indicative Conditionals, Us meaning and intentions, Us meaning, sentence-meaning, and word meaning, and Some models for implicature. They were pretty successful at Oxford. While the notion of an implicatum had been introduced by Grice at Oxford, even in connection with a principle of conversational helpfulness, he takes the occasion now to explore the type of rationality involved. Observation of the principle of conversational helpfulness is rational (reasonable) along the following lines: anyone who cares about the two central goals to conversation (give/receive information, influence/be influened) is expected to have an interest in participating in a conversation that is only going to be profitable given that it is conducted along the lines set by the principle of conversational helpfulness. In Prolegomena he lists Austin, Strawson, Hare, Hart, and himself, as victims of a disregard for the implicatum. In the third lecture he introduces his razor, Senses are not to be muliplied beyond necessity. In Indicative conditionals he tackles Strawson on if as not representing the horse-shoe of Whitehead and Russell. The next two lectures, Us meaning and intentions and Us meaning, sentence-meaning, and word-meaning refine his earlier, more austere, account of this particularly Peirceian phenomenon. He concludes the lectures with an exploration on the relevance of the implicatum to philosophical psychology. Grice was well aware that many philosophers had become enamoured with the s. and would love to give it a continuous perusal. The set is indeed grandiose. It starts with a Prolegomena to set the scene: He notably quotes himself in it, which helps, but also Strawson, which sort of justifies the general title. In the second lecture, Logic and Conversation, he expands on the principle of conversational helpfulness and the explicitum/implicatum distinction – all very rationalist! The third lecture is otiose in that he makes fun of Ockham: Senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. The fourth lecture, on Indicative conditionals, is indeed on MOST of the formal devices he had mentioned on Lecture II, notably the functors (rather than the quantifiers and the iota operator, with which he deals in Presupposition and conversational implicature, since, as he notes, they refer to reference). This lecture is the centrepiece of the set. In the fifth lecture, he plays with mean, and discovers that it is attached to the implicatum or the implicitum. In the sixth lecture, he becomes a nominalist, to use Bennetts phrase, as he deals with dog and shaggy in terms of this or that resultant procedure. Dont ask me what they are! Finally, in “Some models for implicature,” he attacks the charge of circularity, and refers to nineteenth-century explorations on the idea of thought without language alla Wundt. I dont think a set of James lectures had even been so comprehensive! Conversational helpfulness. This is Grice at his methodological best. He was aware that the type of philosophying he was about to criticise wass a bit dated, but whats wrong with being old-fashioned? While this may be seen as a development of his views on implicature at that seminal Oxford seminar, it may also be seen as Grice popularising the views for a New-World, non-Oxonian audience. A discussion of Oxonian philosophers of Grices play group, notably Austin, Strawson, Hart, and Hare. He adds himself for good measure (“Causal theory”). Philosophers, even at Oxford, have to be careful with the attention that is due to general principles of discourse. Grice quotes philosophers of an earlier generation, such as Ryle, and some interpreters or practitioners of Oxonian analysis, such as Benjamin and Searle. He even manages to quote from Witterss Philosophical investigations, on seeing a banana as a banana. There are further items in the Grice collection that address Austins manoeuvre, Austin on ifs and cans, Ifs and cans, : conditional, power.  Two of Grices favourites. He opposed Strawsons view on if. Grice thought that if was the horseshoe of Whitehead and Russell, provided we add an implicatum to an entailment. The can is merely dispositional, if not alla Ryle, alla Grice! Ifs and cans, intention, disposition. Austin had brought the topic to the fore as an exploration of free will. Pears had noted that conversational implicature may account for the conditional perfection (if yields iff). Cf. Ayers on Austin on if and can. Recall that for Grice the most idiomatic way to express a disposition is with the Subjectsive mode, the if, and the can ‒ The ice can break. Cf. the mistake: It is not the case that what you must do, you can do. The can-may distinction is one Grice played with too. As with will and shall, the attachment of one mode to one of the lexemes is pretty arbitrary and not etymologically justified ‒ pace Fowler on it being a privilege of this or that Southern Englishman as Fowler is. If he calls it Prolegomena, he is being jocular. Philosophers Mistakes would have been too provocative. Benjamin, or rather Broad, erred, and so did Ryle, and Ludwig Witters, and my friends, Austin (the mater that wobbled), and in order of seniority, Hart (I heard him defend this about carefully – stopping at every door in case a dog comes out at breakneck speed), Hare (To say good is to approve), and Strawson (“Logical theory”: To utter if p, q is to implicate some inferrability, To say true! is to endorse – Analysis). If he ends with Searle, he is being jocular. He quotes Searle from an essay in British philosophy in Lecture I, and from an essay in Philosophy in America in Lecture V. He loved Searle, and expands on the Texas oilmens club example! We may think of Grice as a linguistic botanizer or a meta-linguistic botanizer: his hobby was to collect philosophers mistakes, and he catalogued them. In Causal theory he produces his first list of seven. The pillar box seems red to me. One cannot see a dagger as a dagger. Moore didnt know that the objects before him were his own hands. What is actual is not also possible. For someone to be called responsible, his action should be condemnable. A cause must be given only of something abnormal or unusual (cf. ætiology). If you know it, you dont believe it. In the Prolegomena, the taxonomy is more complicated. Examples A (the use of an expression, by Ryle, Wittgenstein, Austin, Hart, and Benjamin), Examples B (Strawson on and, or, and especially if), and Examples C (Strawson on true and Hare on good – the performative theories). But even if his taxonomy is more complicated, he makes it more SO by giving other examples as he goes on to discuss how to assess the philosophical mistake. Cf. his elaboration on trying, I saw Mrs. Smith cashing a cheque, Trying to cash a cheque, you mean. Or cf. his remarks on remember, and There is an analogy here with a case by Wittgenstein. In summary, he wants to say. Its the philosopher who makes his big mistake. He has detected, as Grice has it, some conversational nuance. Now he wants to exploit it. But before rushing ahead to exploit the conversational nuance he has detected, or identified, or collected in his exercise of linguistic botanising, the philosopher should let us know with clarity what type of a nuance it is. For Grice wants to know that the nuance depends on a general principle (of goal-directed behaviour in general, and most likely rational) governing discourse – that participants in a conversation should be aware of, and not on some minutiæ that has been identified by the philosopher making the mistake, unsystematically, and merely descriptively, and taxonomically, but without ONE drop of explanatory adequacy. The fact that he directs this to his junior Strawson is the sad thing. The rest are all Grices seniors! The point is of philosophical interest, rather than other. And he keeps citing philosophers, Tarski or Ramsey, in the third James leture, to elaborate the point about true in Prolegomena. He never seems interested in anything but an item being of philosophical interest, even if that means HIS and MINE! On top, he is being Oxonian: Only at Oxford my colleagues were so obsessed, as it has never been seen anywhere else, about the nuances of conversation. Only they were all making a big mistake in having no clue as to what the underlying theory of conversation as rational co-operation would simplify things for them – and how! If I introduce the explicatum as a concession, I shall hope I will be pardoned! Is Grices intention epagogic, or diagogic in Prolegomena? Is he trying to educate Strawson, or just delighting in proving Strawson wrong? We think the former. The fact that he quotes himself shows that Grice is concerned with something he still sees, and for the rest of his life will see, as a valid philosophical problem. If philosophy generated no problems it would be dead. Refs.: The main sources are the two sets on ‘logic and conversation.’ There are good paraphrases in other essays when he summarises his own views, as he did at Urbana. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

conversational implicatum: Grice loved an implicatum. And an implicature. An elaboration of his Oxonian seminar on Logic and conversation. Theres a principle of conversational helpfulness, which includes a desideratum of conversational candour and a desideratum of conversational clarity, and the sub-principle of conversational self-interest clashing with the sub-principle of conversational benevolence. The whole point of the manoeuvre is to provide a rational basis for a conversational implicatum, as his term of art goes. Observation of the principle of conversational helpfulness is rational/reasonable along the following lines: anyone who is interested in the two goals conversation is supposed to serve ‒ give/receive information, influence/be influenced ‒ should only care to enter a conversation that will be only profitable under the assumption that it is conducted in accordance with the principle of conversational helfpulness, and attending desiderata and sub-principles. Grice takes special care in listing tests for the proof that an implicatum is conversational in this rather technical usage: a conversational implicatum is rationally calculable (it is the content of a psychological state, attitude or stance that the addressee assigns to the utterer on condition that he is being helpful), non-detachable, indeterminate, and very cancellable, thus never part of the sense and never an entailment of this or that piece of philosophical vocabulary, in Davidson and Harman, the logic of Grammar, also in Cole and Morgan, repr. in a revised form in Grice, logic and conversation, the second James lecture, : principle of conversational helpfulness, implicatum, cancellability. While the essay was also repr. by Cole and Morgan. Grice always cites it from the two-column reprint in The Logic of Grammar, ed. by Davidson and Harman. Most people without a philosophical background first encounter Grice through this essay. A philosopher usually gets first acquainted with his In defence of a dogma, or Meaning. In Logic and Conversation, Grice re-utilises the notion of an implicatum and the principle of conversational helpfulness that he introduced at Oxford to a more select audience. The idea Grice is that the observation of the principle of conversational helfpulness is rational (reasonable) along the following lines: anyone who is concerned with the two goals which are central to conversation (to give/receive information, to influence/be influenced) should be interested in participating in a conversation that is only going to be profitable on the assumption that it is conducted along the lines of the principle of conversational helfpulness. Grices point is methodological. He is not at all interested in conversational exchanges as such. Unfortunately, the essay starts in media res, and skips Grices careful list of Oxonian examples of disregard for the key idea of what a conversant implicates by the conversational move he makes. His concession is that there is an explicatum or explicitum (roughly, the logical form) which is beyond pragmatic constraints. This concession is easily explained in terms of his overarching irreverent, conservative, dissenting rationalism. This lecture alone had been read by a few philosophers leaving them confused. I dont know what Davidson and Harman were thinking when they repr. just this in The logic of grammar. I mean: its obviously in media res. Grice starts with the logical devices, and never again takes the topic up. Then he explores metaphor, irony, and hyperbole, and surely the philosopher who bought The logic of grammar must be left puzzled! He had to wait sometime to see the thing in full completion. Oxonian philosophers would, out of etiquette, hardly quote from unpublished material! Cohen had to rely on memory, and thats why he got all his Grice wrong! And so did Strawson in If and the horseshoe. Even Walker responding to Cohen is relying on memory. Few philosophers quote from The logic of grammar. At Oxford, everybody knew what Grice was up to. Hare was talking implicature in Mind, and Pears was talking conversational implicature in Ifs and cans. And Platts was dedicating a full chapter to “Causal Theory”. It seems the Oxonian etiquette was to quote from Causal Theory. It was obvious that Grices implication excursus had to read implicature! In a few dictionaries of philosophy, such as Hamlyns, under implication, a reference to Grices locus classicus Causal theory is made – Passmore quotes from Causal theory in Hundred years of philosophy. Very few Oxonians would care to buy a volume published in Encino. Not many Oxonian philosophers ever quoted The logic of grammar, though. At Oxford, Grices implicata remained part of the unwritten doctrines of a few. And philosophers would NOT cite a cajoled essay in the references. The implicatum allows a display of truth-functional Grice. For substitutional-quantificational Grice we have to wait for his treatment of the. In Prolegomena, Grice had quoted verbatim from Strawsons infamous idea that there is a SENSE of inferrability with if. While the lecture covers much more than if (He only said if; Oh, no, he said a great deal more than that! the title was never meant to be original. Grice in fact provides a rational justification for the three connectives (and, or, and if) and before that, the unary functor not. Embedding, Indicative conditionals: embedding, not and If, Sinton on Grice on denials of indicative conditionals, not, if. Strawson had elaborated on what he felt was a divergence between Whiteheads and Russells horseshoe, and if. Grice thought Strawsons observations could be understood in terms of entailment + implicatum (Robbing Peter to Pay Paul). But problems, as first noted to Grice, by Cohen, of Oxford, remain, when it comes to the scope of the implicatum within the operation of, say, negation. Analogous problems arise with implicata for the other earlier dyadic functors, and and or, and Grice looks for a single explanation of the phenomenon.  The qualification indicative is modal. Ordinary language allows for if utterances to be in modes other than the imperative. Counter-factual, if you need to be philosophical krypto-technical, Subjectsive is you are more of a classicist! Grice took a cavalier to the problem: Surely it wont do to say You couldnt have done that, since you were in Seattle, to someone who figuratively tells you hes spend the full summer cleaning the Aegean stables. This, to philosophers, is the centerpiece of the lectures. Grice takes good care of not, and, or, and concludes with the if of the title. For each, he finds a métier, alla Cook Wilson in Statement and Inference. And they all connect with rationality. So he is using material from his Oxford seminars on the principle of conversational helpfulness. Plus Cook Wilson makes more sense at Oxford than at Harvard! The last bit, citing Kripke and Dummett, is meant as jocular. What is important is the teleological approach to the operators, where a note should be made about dyadicity. In Prolegomena, when he introduces the topic, he omits not (about which he was almost obsessed!). He just gives an example for and (He went to bed and took off his dirty boots), one for or (the garden becomes Oxford and the kitchen becomes London, and the implicatum is in terms, oddly, of ignorance: My wife is either in Town OR Country,making fun of Town AND Country), and if. His favourite illustration for if is Cock Robin: If the Sparrow did not kill him, the Lark did! This is because Grice is serious about the erotetic, i.e. question/answer, format Cook Wilson gives to things, but he manages to bring Philonian and Megarian into the picture, just to impress! Most importantly, he introduces the square brackets! Hell use them again in Presupposition and Conversational Implicature and turns them into subscripts in Vacuous Namess. This is central. For he wants to impoverish the idea of the implicatum. The explicitum is minimal, and any divergence is syntactic-cum-pragmatic import. The scope devices are syntactic and eliminable, and as he knows: what the eye no longer sees, the heart no longer grieves for!  The modal implicatum. Since Grice uses indicative, for the title of his third James lecture (Indicative Conditionals) surely he implicates subjunctive  ‒ i.e. that someone might be thinking that he should give an account of indicative*-cum-Subjectsive* if. This relates to an example Grice gives in Causal theory, that he does not reproduce in Prolegomena. Grice states the philosophical mistake as follows. What is actual is not also possible. Grice seems to be suggesting that a Subjectsive conditional would involve one or other of the modalities, he is not interested in exploring. On the other hand, Mackie has noted that Grices conversationalist hypothesis (Mackie quotes verbatim from Grices principle of conversational helpfulness) allows for an explanation of the Subjectsive if that does not involve Kripke-type paradoxes involving possible worlds, or other. In Causal Theory, Grice notes that the issue with which he has been mainly concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would he thinks need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which Grice has been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An examples which occurs to me is the following. What is actual is not also possible. I must emphasise that I am not saying that this example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by Grices objector seems to Grice to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. He is not condemning that kind of manoeuvre. He is merely suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are. If was also of special interest to Grice for many other reasons. He defends a dispositional account of intending that in terms of ifs and cans. He considers akrasia conditionally. He explored the hypothetical-categorical distinction in the buletic mode. He was concerned with therefore as involved with the associated if of entailment. Refs.: “Implicatum” is introduced in Essay 2 in WoW – but there are scattered references elsewhere. He often uses the plural ‘implicata’ too, as in “Retrospective Epilogue,” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC. An implicatum requires a complexum. Frege was the topic of Dummetts explorations. A tutee of Grices once brought Dummetts Frege to a tutorial and told Grice that he intended to explore this. Have you read it? No I havent, Grice answered. And after a pause, he went on: And I hope I wont. Hardly promising, the tutee thought. Some authors, including Grice, but alas, not Frege, have noted some similarities between Grices notion of a conventional implicature and Freges schematic and genial rambles on colouring. Aber Farbung, as Frege would state! Grice was more interested in the idea of a Fregeian sense, but he felt that if he had to play with Freges aber he should! One of Grices metaphysical construction-routines, the Humeian projection, is aimed at the generation of concepts, in most cases the rational reconstruction of an intuitive concept displayed in ordinary discourse.  We arrive at something like a Fregeian sense! Grice exclaimed, with an intonation of Eureka! almost. And then he went back to Frege. Grices German was good, so he could read Frege, in the vernacular. For fun, he read Frege to his children (Grices, not Freges): In einem obliquen Kontext, Frege says, Grice says, kann ja z. B. die Ersetzung eines „aber durch ein „und, die in einem direkten Kontext keinen Unterschied des Wahrheitswerts ergibt, einen solchen Unterschied bewirken. Ill make that easy for you, darlings: und is and, and aber is but. But surely, Papa, aber is not cognate with but! Its not. Thats Anglo-Saxon, for you. But is strictly Anglo-Saxon short for by-out; we lost aber when we sailed the North Sea. Grice went on: Damit wird eine Abgrenzung von Sinn und Färbung (oder Konnotationen) eines Satzes fragwürdig. I. e. he is saying that She was poor but she was honest only conventionally implicates that there is a contrast between her poverty and her honesty. I guess he heard the ditty during the War? Grice ignored that remark, and went on: Appell und Kundgabe wären ferner von Sinn und Färbung genauer zu unterscheiden. Ich weiß so auf interessante Bedeutungs Komponenten hin, bemüht sich aber nicht, sie genauer zu differenzieren, da er letztlich nur betonen will, daß sie in der Sprache der Logik keine Rolle spielen. They play a role in the lingo, that is! What do? Stuff like but. But surely they are not rational conversational implicata!? No, dear, just conventional tricks you can ignore on a nice summer day! Grice however was never interested in what he dismissively labels the conventional implicatum. He identifies it because he felt he must! Surely, the way some Oxonian philosophers learn to use stuff like, on the one hand, and on the other, (or how Grice learned how to use men and de in Grecian), or so, or therefore, or but versus and, is just to allow that he would still use imply in such cases. But surely he wants conversational to stick with rationality: conversational maxim and converational implicatum only apply to things which can be justified transcendentally, and not idiosyncrasies of usage! Grice follows Church in noting that Russell misreads Frege as being guilty of ignoring the use-mention distinction, when he doesnt. One thing that Grice minimises is that Freges assertion sign is composite. Tha is why Baker prefers to use the dot . as the doxastic correlative for the buletic sign ! which is NOT composite. The sign „├‟ is composite. Frege explains his Urteilstrich, the vertical component of his sign ├ as conveying assertoric force. The principal role of the horizontal component as such is to prevent the appearance of assertoric force belonging to a token of what does not express a thought (e.g. the expression 22). ─p expresses a thought even if p does not.) cf. Hares four sub-atomic particles: phrastic (dictum), neustic (dictor), tropic, and clistic. Cf. Grice on the radix controversy: We dont want the . in p to become a vanishing sign! Grices Frege, Frege, Words, and Sentences, : Frege, Farbung, aber. Frege was one of Grices obsessions. A Fregeian sense is an explicatum, or implicitum, a concession to get his principle of conversational helpfulness working in the generation of conversational implicata, that can only mean progress for philosophy! Fregeian senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. The employment of the routine of Humeian projection may be expected to deliver for us, as its result, a concept – the concept(ion) of value, say, in something like a Fregeian sense, rather than an object. There is also a strong affinity between Freges treatment of colouring (of the German particle aber, say) and Grices idea of a convetional implicatum (She was poor, but she was honest,/and her parents were the same,/till she met a city feller,/and she lost her honest Names, as the vulgar Great War ditty went). Grice does not seem interested in providing a philosophical exploration of conventional implicata, and there is a reason for this. Conventional implicata are not essentially connected, as conversational implicata are, with rationality. Conventional implicata cannot be calculable. They have less of a philosophical interest, too, in that they are not cancellable. Grice sees cancellability as a way to prove some (contemporary to him, if dated) ordinary-language philosophers who analyse an expression in terms of sense and entailment, where a cancellable conversational implicatum is all there is (to it).  He mentions Benjamin  in Prolegomena, and is very careful in noting how Benjamin misuses a Fregeian sense. In his Causal theory, Grice lists another mistake: What is known to be the case is not believed to be the case. Grice gives pretty few example of a conventional implicatum: therefore, as in Jills utterance: Jack is an Englishman; he is, therefore, brave. This is interesting because therefore compares to so which Strawson , in P. G. R. I. C. E., claims is the asserted counterpart to if. But Strawson was never associated with the type of linguistic botany that Grice was. Grice also mentions the idiom, on the one hand/on the other hand, in some detail in Retrospective Epilogue: My aunt was a nurse in the Great War; my sister, on the other hand, lives on a peak at Darien. Grice thought that Frege had misused the use-mention distinction but Russell corrected that. Grice bases this on Alonzo Church. And of course he is obsessed with Freges assertion sign, which Grice thinks has one stroke tooo many. Refs.: The main reference is give above for ‘complexum.’ The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC. implicature: those without a philosophical background tend to ignore a joke by Grice! His echoing Kant in the James is a joke, in the sense that he is using Katns well-known to be pretty artificial quartet of ontological caegories to apply to a totally different phenomenon: the taxonomy of the maxims! In his earlier non-jocular attempts, he applied more philosophical concepts with a more serious rationale. His key concept, conversation as rational co-operation, underlies all his attempts. A pretty worked-out model is in terms then of this central, or overarching principle of conversational helpfulness (where conversation as cooperation need not be qualified as conversation as rational co-operation) and being structured by two contrasting sub-principles: the principle of conversational benevolence (which almost overlaps with the principle of conversational helpfulness) and the slightly more jocular principle of conversational self-love. There is something oxymoronic about self-love being conversational, and this is what leads to replace the two subprinciples by a principle of conversational helfpulness (as used in WoW:IV) simpliciter. His desideratum of conversational candour is key. The clash between the desideratum of conversational candour and the desideratum of conversational clarity (call them supermaxims) explains why I believe that p (less clear than p) shows the primacy of candour over clarity. The idea remains of an overarching principle and a set of more specific guidelines. Non-Oxonian philosophers would see Grices appeal to this or that guideline as ad hoc, but not his tutees! Grice finds inspiration in Joseph Butler’s sermon on benevolence and self-love, in his sermon 9, upon the love of our neighbour, preached on advent Sunday. And if there be any other commandment, it is briefly comprehended in this saying, Namesly, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself, Romans xiii. 9. It is commonly observed, that there is a disposition in men to complain of the viciousness and corruption of the age in which they live, as greater than that of former ones: which is usually followed with this further observation, that mankind has been in that respect much the same in all times. Now, to determine whether this last be not contradicted by the accounts of history: thus much can scarce be doubted, that vice and folly takes different turns, and some particular kinds of it are more open and avowed in some ages than in others; and, I suppose, it may be spoken of as very much the distinction of the present, to profess a contracted spirit, and greater regards to self-interest, than appears to have been done formerly. Upon this account it seems worth while to inquire, whether private interest is likely to be promoted in proportion to the degree in which self-love engrosses us, and prevails over all other principles; "or whether the contracted affection may not possibly be so prevalent as to disappoint itself, and even contradict its own end, private good?" Repr. in revised form as WOW, I. Grice felt the need to go back to his explantion (cf. Fisher, Never contradict. Never explain) of the nuances about seem and cause (“Causal theory”.). He had used Smiths My wife is in the kitchen or the bedroom as relying on a requirement of discourse. But there must be more to it. Variations on a theme by Grice. Make your contribution such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange in which you are engaged. Variations on a theme by Grice. I wish to represent a certain subclass of non-conventional implicaturcs, which I shall call conversational implicaturcs, as being essentially connected with certain general features of discourse; so my next step is to try to say what these features are. The following may provide a first approximation to a general principle. Our talk exchanges do not normally consist of a succession of disconnected remarks, and would not be rational if they did. They are characteristically, to some degree at least, cooperative efforts; and each participant recognizes in them, to some extent, a common purpose or set of purposes, or at least a mutually accepted direction. This purpose or direction may be fixed from the start (e.g., by an initial proposal of a question for discussion), or it may evolve during the exchange; it may be fairly definite, or it may be so indefinite as to leave very considerable latitude to the participants, as in a casual conversation. But at each stage, some possible conversational moves would be excluded as conversationally unsuitable. We might then formulate a rough general principle which participants will be expected ceteris paribus to observe, viz.: Make your conversational contribution such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange in which you are engaged. One might label this the co-operative principle. We might then formulate a rough general principle which participants will be expected ceteris paribus to observe, viz.:  Make your contribution such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange in which you are engaged. One might label this the Cooperative Principle. Strictly, the principle itself is not co-operative: conversants are. Less literary variant: Make your move such as is required by the accepted goal of the conversation in which you are engaged. But why logic and conversation? Logica had been part of the trivium for ages ‒ Although they called it dialectica, then. Grice on the seven liberal arts. Moved by Strawsons treatment of the formal devices in “Introduction to logical theory” (henceforth, “Logical theory”), Grice targets these, in their ordinary-discourse counterparts. Strawson indeed characterizes Grice as his logic tutor – Strawson was following a P. P. E., and his approach to logic was practical. His philosophy tutor was Mabbott. For Grice, with a M. A. Lit. Hum.the situation was different. He knew that the Categoriae and De Int.  of his beloved Aristotle were part of the Logical Organon which had been so influential in the history of philosophy. Grice attempts to reconcile Strawsons observations with the idea that the formal devices reproduce some sort of explicatum, or explicitum, as identified by Whitehead and Russell in Principia Mathematica. In the proceedings, Grice has to rely on some general features of discourse, or conversation as a rational co-operation. The alleged divergence between the ordinary-language operators and their formal counterparts is explained in terms of the conversational implicata, then. I.e. the content of the psychological attitude that the addressee A has to ascribe to the utterer U to account for any divergence between the formal device and its alleged ordinary-language counterpart, while still assuming that U is engaged in a co-operative transaction. The utterer and his addressee are seen as caring for the mutual goals of conversation  ‒ the exchange of information and the institution of decisions  ‒ and judging that conversation will only be profitable (and thus reasonable and rational) if conducted under some form of principle of conversational helpfulness. The observation of a principle of  conversational helpfulness is reasonable (rational) along the following lines: anyone who cares about the goals that are central to conversation/communication (such as giving and receiving information, influencing and being influenced by others) must be expected to have an interest, given suitable circumstances, in participating in a conversation that will be profitable ONLY on the assumption that it is conducted in general accordance with a principle of conversational helpfulness. In titling his seminar Logic and conversation, Grice is thinking Strawson. After all, in the seminal “Logical theory,” that every Oxonian student was reading, Strawson had the cheek to admit that he never ceased to learn logic from his tutor, Grice. Yet he elaborates a totally anti Griceian view of things. To be fair to Strawson, the only segment where he acknwoledges Grices difference of opinion is a brief footnote, concerning the strength or lack thereof, of this or that quantified utterance. Strawson uses an adjective that Grice will seldom do, pragmatic. On top, Strawson attributes the adjective to rule. For Grice, in Strawsons wording, there is this or that pragmatic rule to the effect that one should make a stronger rather than a weaker conversational move. Strawsons Introduction was published before Grice aired his views for the Aristotelian Society. In this seminar then Grice takes the opportunity to correct a few misunderstandings. Important in that it is Grices occasion to introduce the principle of conversational helpfulness as generating implicata under the assumption of rationality. The lecture makes it obvious that Grices interest is methodological, and not philological. He is not interest in conversation per se, but only as the source for his principle of conversational helpfulness and the notion of the conversational implicatum, which springs from the distinction between what an utterer implies and what his expression does, a distinction apparently denied by Witters and all too frequently ignored by Austin. Logic and conversation, an Oxford seminar, implicatum, principle of conversational helpfulness, eywords: conversational implicature, conversational implicatum. Conversational Implicature Grices main invention, one which trades on the distinction between what an utterer implies and what his expression does. A distinction apparently denied by Witters, and all too frequently ignored by, of all people, Austin. Grice is implicating that Austins sympathies were for the Subjectsification of Linguistic Nature. Grice remains an obdurate individualist, and never loses sight of the distinction that gives rise to the conversational implicatum, which can very well be hyper-contextualised, idiosyncratic, and perfectly particularized. His gives an Oxonian example. I can very well mean that my tutee is to bring me a philosophical essay next week by uttering It is raining.Grice notes that since the object of the present exercise, is to provide a bit of theory which will explain, for a certain family of cases, why is it that a particular implicature is present, I would suggest that the final test of the adequacy and utility of this model should be: can it be used to construct an explanation of the presence of such an implicature, and is it more comprehensive and more economical than any rival? is the no doubt pre-theoretical explanation which one would be prompted to give of such an implicature consistent with, or better still a favourable pointer towards the requirements involved in the model? cf. Sidonius: Far otherwise: whoever disputes with you will find those protagonists of heresy, the Stoics, Cynics, and Peripatetics, shattered with their own arms and their own engines; for their heathen followers, if they resist the doctrine and spirit of Christianity, will, under your teaching, be caught in their own familiar entanglements, and fall headlong into their own toils; the barbed syllogism of your arguments will hook the glib tongues of the casuists, and it is you who will tie up their slippery questions in categorical clews, after the manner of a clever physician, who, when compelled by reasoned thought, prepares antidotes for poison even from a serpent.qvin potivs experietvr qvisqve conflixerit stoicos cynicos peripateticos hæresiarchas propriis armis propriis qvoqve concvti machiNamesntis nam sectatores eorum Christiano dogmati ac sensvi si repvgnaverint mox te magistro ligati vernaculis implicaturis in retia sua præcipites implagabvntur syllogismis tuæ propositionis vncatis volvbilem tergiversantvm lingvam inhamantibvs dum spiris categoricis lubricas qvæstiones tv potivs innodas acrivm more medicorvm qui remedivm contra venena cum ratio compellit et de serpente conficivnt. If he lectured on Logic and Conversation on implicature, Grice must have thought that Strawsons area was central. Yet, as he had done in Causal theory and as he will at Harvard, Grice kept collecting philosophers mistakes. So its best to see Grice as a methodologist, and as using logic and conversation as an illustration of his favourite manoeuvre, indeed, central philosophical manoeuver that gave him a place in the history of philosophy. Restricting this manoeuvre to just an area minimises it. On the other hand, there has to be a balance: surely logic and conversation is a topic of intrinsic interest, and we cannot expect all philosophers – unless they are Griceians! – to keep a broad unitarian view of philosophy as  avirtuous whole! Philosophy, like virtue, is entire. Destructive implicature to it: Mr. Puddle is our man in æsthetics implicates he is not good at it. What is important to Grice is that the mistakes of these philosophers (notably Strawson!) arise from some linguistic phenomena,or, since we must use singular expressions this or that linguistic phenomenon. Or as Grice puts it, it is this or that linguistic phenomenon which provides the material for the philosopher to make his mistake! So, to solve it, his theory of conversation as rational co-operation is posited – technically, as a way to explain (never merely describe, which Grice found boring ‒ if English, cf. never explain, never apologise ‒ Jacky Fisher: Never contradict. Never explain.) these phenomena – his principle of conversational helpfulness and the idea of a conversational implicatum. The latter is based not so much on rationality per se, but on the implicit-explicit distinction that he constantly plays with, since his earlier semiotic-oriented explorations of Peirce. But back to this or that linguistic phenomenon, while he would make fun of Searle for providing this or that linguistic phenomenon that no philosopher would ever feel excited about, Grice himself was a bit of a master in illustrating this a philosophical point with this or that linguistic phenomenon that would not be necessarily connected with philosophy. He rarely quotes authors, but surely the section in Causal theory where he lists seven philosophical theses (which are ripe for an implicatum treatment) would be familiar enough for anybody to be able to drop a Names to attach to each! At Harvard, almost every example Grice gives of this or that linguistic phenomenon is UN-authored (and sometimes he expands on his own view of them, just to amuse his audience – and show how committed to this or that thesis he was), but some are not unauthored. And they all belong to the linguistic turn: He quotes from Ryle (who thought he knew about ordinary language), Wittgenstein, Austin (he quotes him in great detail, from Pretending, Plea of excuses, and No modification without aberration,), Strawson (in “Logical theory” and on Truth for Analysis), Hart (as I have heard him expand on this), Searle, and Benjamin . He implicates Hare (on good). Etc. When we mention the explicit/implicit distinction as source for the implicatum, we are referring to Grices own wording in Retrospective epilogue where he mentions an utterer as conveying in some explicit fashion this or that, as opposed to a gentler, more (midland or southern) English, way, via implicature, or implIciture, if you mustnt. Cf. Fowler: As a southern Englishman, Ive stopped trying teaching a northern Englishman the distinction between ought and shall. He seems to get it always wrong. It may be worth exploring how this connects with rationality. His point would be that that an assumption that the rational principle of conversational helpfulness is in order allows P-1 not just to convey in a direct explicit fashion that p, but in an implicit fashion that q, where q is the implicatum. The principle of conversational helpfulness as generator of this or that implicata, to use Grices word (generate). Surely, He took off his boots and went to bed; I wont say in which order sounds hardly in the vein of conversational helpfulness – but provided Grice does not see it as logically incoherent, it is still a rational (if not reasonable) thing to say. The point may be difficult to discern, but you never know. The utterer may be conveying, Viva Boole! Grices point about rationality is mentioned in his later Prolegomena, on at least two occasions. Rational behaviour is the phrase he uses (as applied first to communication and then to discourse) and in stark opposition with a convention-based approach he rightly associates with Austin. Grice is here less interested here as he will be on rationality, but coooperation as such. Helpfulness as a reasonable expecation (normative?), a mutual one between decent chaps, as he puts it. His charming decent chap is so Oxonian. His tutee would expect no less ‒ and indeed no more! A rather obscure exploration on the connection of semiotics and philosophical psychology. Grice is aware that there is an allegation in the air about a possible vicious circle in trying to define category of expression in terms of a category of representation. He does not provide a solution to the problem which hell take up in his Method in philosophical psychology, in his role of President of the American Philosophical Association. It is THE IMPLICATURE behind the lecture that matters, since Grice will go back to it, notably in the Retrospective Epilogue. For Grice, its all rational enough. Theres a P, in a situation, say of danger – a bull ‒. He perceives the bull. The bulls attack causes this perception. Bull! the P₁ G1 screams, and causes in P₂ G2 a rearguard movement. So where is the circularity? Some pedants would have it that Bull cannot be understood in a belief about a bull which is about a bull. Not Grice. It is nice that he brought back implicature, which had become obliterated in the lectures, back to title position! But it is also noteworthy, that these are not explicitly rationalist models for implicature. He had played with a model, and an explanatory one at that, for implicature, in his Oxford seminar, in terms of a principle of conversational helpfulness, a desideratum of conversational clarity, a desideratum of conversational candour, and two sub-principles: a principle of conversational benevolence, and a principle of conversational self-interest! Surely Harvard could be spared of the details! Implicature. Grice disliked a presupposition. BANC also contains a f. for Odd ends: Urbana and non-Urbana. Grice continues with the elaboration of a formal calculus. He originally baptised it System Q in honour of Quine. At a later stage, Myro will re-Names it System G, in a special version, System GHP, a highly powerful/hopefully plausible version of System G, in gratitude to Grice. Odd Ends: Urbana and Not Urbana, Odds and ends: Urbana and not Urbana, or not-Urbana, or Odds and ends: Urbana and non Urbana, or Oddents, urbane and not urbane, : semantics, Urbana lectures. The Urbana lectures were on language and reality. Grice kept revising them, as these items show. Language and reality, The University of Illinois at Urbana, The Urbana Lectures, Language and reference, language and reality, The Urbana lectures, University of Illinois at Urbana, language, reference, reality Grice favours a transcendental approach to communication. Our beliefs worth communicating have to be true. Our orders worth communicating have to refer to our willings. The fourth lecture is the one Grice dates in WOW . Smith has not ceased from beating his wife, presupposition and conversational implicature, in Cole, Radical pragmatics, repr. in a revised form in Grice, WOW , in Part II, Explorations in semantics and metaphysics, essay, presupposition and implicature, presupposition, conversational implicature, implicature, Strawson. Grice: The loyalty examiner wont summon you, dont worry. Grices cancellation could be pretty subtle! Well, the loyalty examiner will not be summoning you at any rate. Grice goes back to the issue of negation and not. If, Grice notes, is is a matter of dispute whether the government has a very undercover person who interrogates those whose loyalty is suspect and who, if he existed, could be legitimately referred to as the loyalty examiner; and if, further, I am known to be very sceptical about the existence of such a person, I could perfectly well say to a plainly loyal person, Well, the loyalty examiner will not be summoning you at any rate, without, Grice  would think, being taken to imply that such a person exists. Further, if the utterer U is well known to disbelieve in the existence of such a person, though others are inclined to believe in him, when U finds a man who is apprised of Us position, but who is worried in case he is summoned, U may try to reassure him by uttering, The loyalty examiner will not summon you, do not worry. Then it would be clear that U uttered this because U is sure there is no such person. The lecture was variously repr., but the Urbana should remain the preferred citation. There are divergences in the various drafts, though. The original source of this exploration was a seminar. Grice is interested in re-conceptualising Strawsons manoeuvre regarding presupposition as involving what Grice disregards as a metaphysical concoction: the truth-value gap. In Grices view, based on a principle of conversational tailoring that falls under his principle of conversational helpfulness  ‒ indeed under the desideratum of conversational clarity (be perspicuous [sic])  ‒ The king of France is bald entails there is a king of France; while The king of France aint bald merely implicates it. Grice much preferred Collingwoods to Strawsons presuppositions! Grice thought, and rightly, too, that if his notion of the conversational implicatum was to gain Oxonian currency, it should supersede Strawsons idea of the præ-suppositum.  Strawson, in his attack to Russell, had been playing with Quines idea of a truth-value gap. Grice shows that neither the metaphysical concoction of a truth-value gap nor the philosophical tool of the præ-suppositum is needed. The king of France is bald entails There is a king of France. It is part of what U is logically committed to by what he explicitly conveys. By uttering, The king of France is not bald on the other hand, U merely implicitly conveys or implicates that there is a king of France. A perfectly adequate, or impeccable, as Grice prefers, cancellation, abiding with the principle of conversational helpfulness is in the offing. The king of France aint bald. What made you think he is? For starters, he aint real! Grice credits Hans Sluga for having pointed out to him the way to deal with the definite descriptor or definite article or the iota quantifier the formally. One thing Russell discovered is that the variable denoting function is to be deduced from the variable propositional function, and is not to be taken as an indefinable. Russell tries to do without the iota i as an indefinable, but fails. The success by Russell later, in On denoting, is the source of all his subsequent progress. The iota quantifier consists of an inverted iota to be read the individuum x, as in (℩x).F(x). Grice opts for the Whiteheadian-Russellian standard rendition, in terms of the iota operator. Grices take on Strawson is a strong one. The king of France is bald; entails there is a king of France, and what the utterer explicitly conveys is doxastically unsatisfactory. The king of France aint bald does not. By uttering The king of France aint bald U only implicates that there is a king of France, and what he explicitly conveys is doxastically satisfactory. Grice knew he was not exactly robbing Peter to pay Paul, or did he? It is worth placing the lecture in context. Soon after delivering in the New World his exploration on the implicatum, Grice has no better idea than to promote Strawsons philosophy in the New World. Strawson will later reflect on the colder shores of the Old World, so we know what Grice had in mind! Strawsons main claim to fame in the New World (and at least Oxford in the Old World) was his On referring, where he had had the cheek to say that by uttering, The king of France is not bald, the utterer implies that there is a king of France (if not that, as Grice has it, that what U explicitly conveys is doxastically satisfactory. Strawson later changed that to the utterer presupposes that there is a king of France. So Grice knows what and who he was dealing with. Grice and Strawson had entertained Quine at Oxford, and Strawson was particularly keen on that turn of phrase he learned from Quine, the truth-value gap. Grice, rather, found it pretty repulsive: Tertium exclusum! So, Grice goes on to argue that by uttering The king of France is bald, one entailment of what U explicitly conveys is indeed There is a king of France. However, in its negative co-relate, things change. By uttering The king of France aint bald, the utterer merely implicitly conveys or implicates (in a pretty cancellable format) that there is a king of France. The king of France aint bald: theres no king of France! The loyalty examiner is like the King of France, in ways! The piece is crucial for Grices re-introduction of the square-bracket device: [The king of France] is bald; [The king of France] aint bald. Whatever falls within the scope of the square brackets is to be read as having attained common-ground status and therefore, out of the question, to use Collingwoods jargon! Grice was very familiar with Collingwood on presupposition, meant as an attack on Ayer. Collingwoods reflections on presuppositions being either relative or absolute may well lie behind Grices metaphysical construction of absolute value! The earliest exploration by Grice on this is his infamous, Smith has not ceased from beating his wife, discussed by Ewing in Meaninglessness for Mind. Grice goes back to the example in the excursus on implying that in Causal Theory, and it is best to revisit this source. Note that in the reprint in WOW Grice does NOT go, one example of presupposition, which eventually is a type of conversational implicature. Grices antipathy to Strawsons presupposition is metaphysical: he dislikes the idea of a satisfactory-value-gap, as he notes in the second paragraph to Logic and conversation. And his antipathy crossed the buletic-doxastic divide! Using φ to represent a sentence in either mode, he stipulate that ~φ is satisfactory just in case ⌈φ⌉ is unsatisfactory. A crunch, as he puts it, becomes obvious:  ~ ⊢The king of France is bald may perhaps be treated as equivalent to ⊢~(The king of France is bald). But what about ~!Arrest the intruder? What do we say in cases like, perhaps, Let it be that I now put my hand on my head or Let it be that my bicycle faces north, in which (at least on occasion) it seems to be that neither !p nor !~p is either satisfactory or unsatisfactory? If !p is neither satisfactory nor unsatisfactory (if that make sense, which doesnt to me), does the philosopher assign a third buletically satisfactory value (0.5) to !p (buletically neuter, or indifferent). Or does the philosopher say that we have a buletically satisfactory value gap, as Strawson, following Quine, might prefer? This may require careful consideration; but I cannot see that the problem proves insoluble, any more than the analogous problem connected with Strawsons doxastic presupposition is insoluble. The difficulty is not so much to find a solution as to select the best solution from those which present themselves. The main reference is Essay 2 in WoW, but there are scattered references elsewhere. Refs.: The main sources are the two sets of ‘logic and conversation,’ in BANC, but there are scattered essays on ‘implicature’ simpliciter, too --  “Presupposition and conversational implicature,” c. 2-f. 25; and “Convesational implicature,” c. 4-f. 9, “Happiness, discipline, and implicatures,” c. 7-f. 6; “Presupposition and implicature,” c. 9-f. 3, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

desirability: This Grice calls the Jeffrey operator. If Urmson likes ‘probably,’ Grice likes ‘desirably.’ This theorem is a corollary of the desirability axiom by Jeffrey, which is: "If prob XY = 0, for a prima facie  PF(A V B) A (x E w)] = PFA A (x E w)] + PfB A (x El+ w)]. This is the account by Grice of the adaptability of a pirot to its changeable environs. Grice borrows the notion of probability (henceforth, “pr”) from Davidson, whose early claim to fame was to provide the logic of the notion. Grice abbreviates probability by Pr. and compares it to a buletic operator ‘pf,’ ‘for prima facie,’ attached to ‘De’ for desirability. A rational agent must calculate both the probability and the desirability of his action. For both probability and desirability, the degree is crucial. Grice symbolises this by d: probability in degree d; probability in degree d. The topic of life Grice relates to that of adaptation and surival, and connects with his genitorial programme of creature construction (Pology.): life as continued operancy. Grice was fascinated with life (Aristotle, bios) because bios is what provides for Aristotle the definition (not by genus) of psyche. The steps are as follows. Pf(p ⊃!q)/Pr(p ⊃ q); pf((p1 ^  p2) ⊃!q)/pr(p1 ^  p2 ⊃q); pf((p1 ^ p2 ^  p3) ⊃!q)/pr(p1 ^  p2 ^  p3 ^  p4 ⊃q); pf (all things before me ⊃!q)/pr (all things before me ⊃ q); pf (all things considered ⊃ !q)/pr(all things considered ⊃ q); !q/|- q; G wills !q/G judges q. Strictly, Grice avoids using the noun probability (other than for the title of this or that lecture). One has to use the sentence-modifier ‘probably,’ and ‘desirably.’ So the specific correlative to the buletic prima facie ‘desirably’ is the doxastic ‘probably.’ Grice liked the Roman sound to ‘prima facie,’ ‘at first sight’:  “exceptio, quae prima facie justa videatur.” Refs.: The two main sources are “Probability, desirability, and mood operators,” c. 2-f. 11, and “Modality, desirability and probability,” c. 8-ff. 14-15. But most of the material is collected in “Aspects,” especially in the third and fourth lectures. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

deutero-esperanto: Grice genially opposed to the idea of a convention. He hated a convention. A language is not conventional. Meaning is not conventional. Communication is not conventional. He was even unhappy with the account of convention by Lewis in terms of an arbitrary co-ordination. While the co-ordination bit passes rational muster, the arbitrary element is deemed a necessary condition, and Grice hated that. For Grice there is natural, and iconic. When a representation ceases to be iconic and becomes, for lack of a better expression, non-iconic, things get, we may assume conventional. One form of correlation in his last definition of meaing allows for a conventional correlation. “Pain!,” the P cries. There is nothing in /pein/ that minimally resembles the pain the P is suffering. So from his involuntary “Ouch” to his simulated “Ouch,” he thinks he can say “Pain.” Bennett explored the stages after that. The dog is shaggy is Grices example. All sorts of resultant procedures are needed for reference and predication, which may be deemed conventional. One may refer nonconventionally, by ostension. It seems more difficult to predicate non-conventionally. But there may be iconic predication. Urquhart promises twelve parts of speech: each declinable in eleven cases, four numbers, eleven genders (including god, goddess, man, woman, animal, etc.); and conjugable in eleven tenses, seven moods, and four voices. The language will translate any idiom in any other language, without any alteration of the literal sense, but fully representing the intention. Later, one day, while lying in his bath, Grice designed deutero-esperanto. The obble is fang may be current only for Griceian members of the class of utterers. It is only this or that philosophers practice to utter The obble is fang in such-and-such circumstances. In this case, the utterer U does have a readiness to utter The obble is feng in such-and-such circumstances. There is also the scenario in which The obble is fang is may be conceived by the philosopher not to be deemed current at all, but the utterance of The obble is feng in such-and-such circumstances is part of some system of communication which the utterer U (Lockwith,, Urquart, Wilkins, Edmonds, Grice) has devised but which has never been put into operation, like the highway code which Grice invent another day again while lying in his bath. In that case, U does this or that basic or resultant procedure for the obble is feng in an attenuated but philosophically legitimate fashion. U has envisaged a possible system of practices which involve a readiness to utter Example by Grice that does NOT involve a convention in this usage. Surely Grice can as he indeed did, invent a language, call it Deutero-Esperanto, Griceish, or Pirotese, which nobody at Oxford ever uses to communicat. That makes Grice the authority - cf. arkhe, authority, government (in plural), "authorities" - and Grice can lay down, while lying in the tub, no doubt - what is proper. A P can be said to potch of some obble o as fang or as feng. Also to cotch of some obble o, as fang or feng; or to cotch of one obble o and another obble o as being fid to one another.” In symbols: (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oy ^ potch(x, y, fang) (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oy ^ potch(x, y, feng) (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oy ^ cotch(x, y, fang) (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Ox ^ cotch(x, y, feng) (Ex)(Ey).Px ^ Oz ^ Oy ^ cotch(x, fid(y,z)). Let’s say that Ps (as Russell and Carnap conceived them) inhabit a world of obbles, material objects, or things. To potch is something like to perceive; to cotch something like to think. Feng and fang are possible descriptions, much like our adjectives. Fid is a possible relation between obbles. Grice provides a symbolisation for content internalisation.  The perceiver or cognitive Subjects perceives or cognises two objects, x, y, as holding a relation of some type.  There is a higher level that Ps can reach when the object of their potchings and cotchings is not so much objects but states of affairs.  Its then that the truth-functional operators will be brought to existence “^”: cotch(p ^ q) “V”:  cotch(p v q) “)”: )-cotch(p ) q)  A P will be able to reject a content, refuse-thinking: ~. Cotch(~p). When P1 perceives P2, the reciprocals get more complicated.  P2 cotches that P1!-judges that p.  Grice uses ψ1 for potching and ψ2 for cotching. If P2 is co-operative, and abides by "The Ps Immanuel," P2 will honour, in a Kantian benevolent way, his partners goal by adopting temporarily his partners goal potch(x (portch(y, !p)) ⊃ potch(x, !p). But by then, its hardly simpler ways. Especially when the Ps outdo their progenitor Carnap as metaphysicians. The details are under “eschatology,” but the expressions are here “α izzes α.” This would be the principle of non-contradiction or identity. P1 applies it war, and utters War is war which yields a most peculiar implicature. “if α izzes β ∧ β izzes γ, α izz γ.” This is transitivity, which is crucial for Ps to overcome Berkeley’s counterexample to Locke, and define their identity over time. “if α hazzes β, α izzes β.” Or, what is accidental is not essential. A P may allow that what is essential is accidental while misleading, is boringly true. “α hazzes β iff α hazzes x ∧ x izzes β.” “If β is a katholou or universalium, β is an eidos or forma.” For surely Ps need not be stupid to fail to see squarrelhood. “if α hazzes β ∧ α izzes a particular, γ≠α ∧ α izz β.” “α izzes predicable of β iff ((β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α). “α izzes essentially predicable of β ⊃⊂ β izzes α  α izzes non-essentially/accidentally predicable of β ⊃⊂ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α). α = β iff α izzes β ∧ β izzes α. “α izzes an atomon, or individuum ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(β izzes α ⊃ α izzes β). “α izzes a particular ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(α izzes predicable of β ⊃ (α izzes β ∧ β izzes α)). α izzes a universalium ⊃⊂ ◊(∃β)(α izzes predicable of α ∧ ~(α izzes β ∧ β izzes α). α izzes some-thing ⊃ α izzes an individuum. α izzes an eidos or forma ⊃ (α izzes some-thing ∧ α izzes a universalium); α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ (β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α). “ α izzes essentially predicable of α  α izzes accidentally predicable of β ⊃ α ≠ β.  ~(α izzes accidentally predicable of β) ⊃ α ≠ β. α izzes an kathekaston or particular ⊃ α izzes an individuum; α izz a particular ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izz α). ~(∃x).(x izzes a particular ∧ x izzes a forma)  ⊢ α izzes a forma ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izzes α). x izzes a particular ⊃ ~(∃β)(α izzes β); α izzes a forma ⊃ ((α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β) ⊃ β hazzes α);  α izzes a forma ∧ β izzes a particular ⊃ (α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ β hazzes A); (α izzes a particular ∧ β izzes a universalium ∧ β izzes predicable of α) ⊃ (∃γ)(α ≠ γ ∧ γ izzes essentially predicable of α). (∃x) (∃y)(x izzes a particular ∧ y izzes a universalium ∧ y izzes predicable of x ⊃ ~(∀x)(x izzes a universalium ∧ x izzes some-thing).  (∀β)(β izzes a universalium ⊃ β izzes some-thing). α izzes a particular) ⊃ ~∃β.(α ≠ β ∧ β izzes essentially predicable of α). (α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β) ⊃ α izzes non-essentially or accidentally predicable of β.   Grice is following a Leibnizian tradition. A philosophical language is any constructed language that is constructed from first principles or certain ideologies.  It is considered a type of engineered language.  Philosophical languages were popular in Early Modern times, partly motivated by the goal of recovering the lost Adamic or Divine language.  The term “ideal language” is sometimes used near-synonymously, though more modern philosophical languages such as “Toki Pona” are less likely to involve such an exalted claim of perfection.  It may be known as a language of pure ideology.  The axioms and grammars of the languages together differ from commonly spoken languages today.  In most older philosophical languages, and some newer ones, words are constructed from a limited set of morphemes that are treated as "elemental" or fundamental. "Philosophical language" is sometimes used synonymously with "taxonomic language", though more recently there have been several conlangs constructed on philosophical principles which are not taxonomic. Vocabularies of oligo-synthetic communication-systems are made of compound expressions, which are coined from a small (theoretically minimal) set of morphemes; oligo-isolating communication-systems, such as Toki Pona, similarly use a limited set of root words but produce phrases which remain s. of distinct words.  Toki Pona is based on minimalistic simplicity, incorporating elements of Taoism. Láadan is designed to lexicalize and grammaticalise the concepts and distinctions important to women, based on muted group theory.  A priori languages are constructed languages where the vocabulary is invented directly, rather than being derived from other existing languages (as with Esperanto, or Grices Deutero-Esperanto, or Pirotese or Ido). Philosophical languages are almost all a priori languages, but most a priori languages are not philosophical languages. For example, Quenya, Sindarin, and Klingon are all a priori but not philosophical languages: they are meant to seem like natural languages, even though they have no genetic relation to any natural languages.  Work on a philosophical language was pioneered by Francis Lodwick (A common writing, the groundwork or foundation laid (or so intended) for the framing of a new perfect language and a universal common writing), Sir Thomas Urquhart (Logopandecteision, in six parts: Neaudethaumata, Chrestasebeia, Cleronomaporia, Chryseomysters, Neleodicastes, and Philoponauxesis), George Dalgarno (Ars signorum), and John Wilkins (An Essay towards a Real Character, and a Philosophical Language). Those were systems of hierarchical classification that were intended to result in both spoken and written expression. George Edmonds modified Wilkins system, leaving its taxonomy intact, but changing the grammar of the language in an effort to make it easier. Gottfried Leibniz created lingua generalis (or lingua universalis), aiming to create a lexicon of characters upon which the user might perform calculations that would yield true propositions automatically; as a side effect he developed binary calculus. These projects aimed not only to reduce or model grammar, but also to arrange all human knowledge into "characters" or hierarchies. This idea ultimately led to the Encyclopédie, in the Age of Enlightenment. Under the entry Charactère, DAlembert critically reviewed the projects of philosophical languages of the preceding century.  After the Encyclopédie, projects for a priori languages moved more and more to the fringe. Individual authors, typically unaware of the history of the idea, continued to propose taxonomic philosophical languages until the early 20th century (for example, Ro). More recent philosophical languages have usually moved away from taxonomic schemata, such as Ithkuil. V. engineered language Linguistic philosophy Natural semantic metalanguage. Refs: Edmonds, A universal alphabet, grammar, and language, Richard Griffin and Company, London and Glasgow, 1history-computer.com. Cf.  Eco, The search for the perfect language. Libert, A priori artificial languages. cf. International auxiliary language Language meant for communication between people from different nations who do not share a common first language; engineered language constructed languages devised to test or prove how languages work. Cf. Grices Deutero-Esperanto. It all starts when Carnap claims to know that pritos karulise elatically. Grice as engineer.  Pirotese is the philosophers engaging in Pology. Actually, Pirotese is the lingo the Ps parrot. Ps karulise elatically. But not all of them. Grice finds that the Pological talk allows to start from zero.  He is constructing a language, (basic) Pirotese, and the philosophical psychology and world that that language is supposed to represent or denote.  An obble is a Ps object. Grice introduces potching and cotching. To potch, in Pirotese, is what a P does with an obble: he perceives it. To cotch is Pirotese for what a P can further do with an obble: know or cognise it. Cotching, unlike potching, is factive.  Pirotese would not be the first language invented by a philosopher. Refs.: While the reference to “Deutero-Esperanto’ comes from “Meaning revisited,” other keywords are useful, notably “Pirotese” and “Symbolo.” Also keywords like “obble,” and “pirot.” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

diagoge: Grice contrasted epagoge with diagoge. But epagoge is induction, so here we’ll consider his views on probability and how it contrastds with diagoge. The diagoge is easy to identity: Grice is a social animal, with the BA, Philosophy, conferences, discussion, The American Philosophical Association, transcripts by Randall Parker, from the audio-tapes contained in c. 10 within the same s. IV miscellaneous, Beanfest, transcripts and audio-cassettes, s. IV, c. 6-f. 8, and f. 10, and s. V, c. 8-f.  4-8 Unfortunately, Parker typed carulise for karulise, or not. Re: probability, Grice loves to reminisce an anecdote concerning his tutor Hardie at Corpus when Hardie invoked Mills principles to prove that Hardie was not responsible for a traffic jam. In drafts on word play, Grice would speak of not bringing more Grice to your Mill. Mills System of Logic was part of the reading material for his degree in Lit. Hum.at Oxford, so he was very familiar with it. Mill represents the best of the English empiricist tradition. Grice kept an interest on inductive methodology. In his Life and opinions he mentions some obscure essays by Kneale and Keynes on the topic. Grice was interested in Kneales secondary induction, since Grice saw this as an application of a construction routine. He was also interested in Keyness notion of a generator property, which he found metaphysically intriguing. Induction. Induction ‒ Mill’s Induction, induction, deduction, abduction, Mill. More Grice to the Mill. Grice loved Hardies playing with Mill’s method of difference with an Oxford copper. He also quotes Kneale and Keynes on induction. Note that his seven-step derivation of akrasia relies on an inductive step! Grice was fortunate to associate with Davidson, whose initial work is on porbability. Grice borrows from Davidson the idea that inductive probability, or probable, attaches to the doxastic, while prima facie attaches to desirably, or desirability.  Jeffreys notion of desirability is partition-invariant in that if a proposition, A, can be expressed as the disjoint disjunction of both {B1, B2, B3} and {C1, C2, C3}, ∑ Bi ∈ AProb (Bi ∣∣ A). Des (Bi) = ∑Ci ∈ A Prob (Ci ∣∣ A). Des (Ci). It follows that applying the rule of desirability maximization will always lead to the same recommendation, irrespective of how the decision problem is framed, while an alternative theory may recommend different courses of action, depending on how the decision problem is formulated.  Here, then, is the analogue of Jeffreys desirability axiom (D), applied to sentences rather than propositions: (D) (prob(s and t) = 0 and prob(s or t) "# 0, ⊃ d ( ) prob(s)des(s)+ prob(t)des(t) es s or t =-"---- prob( s) + prob(t ) (Grice writes prob(s) for the Subjectsive probability of sand des(s) for the desirability or utility of s.) B. Jeffrey admits that "desirability" (his terms for evidential value) does not directly correspond to any single pre-theoretical notion of desire. Instead, it provides the best systematic explication of the decision theoretic idea, which is itself our best effort to make precise the intuitive idea of weighing options. As Jeffrey remarks, it is entirely possibly to desire someone’s love when you already have it. Therefore, as Grice would follow, Jeffrey has the desirability operator fall under the scope of the probability operator. The agents desire that p provided he judges that p does not obtain. Diagoge/epagoge, Grices audio-files, the audio-files, audio-files of various lectures and conferences, some seminars with Warner and J. Baker, audio files of various lectures and conferences. Subjects: epagoge, diagoge. A previous folder in the collection contains the transcripts. These are the audio-tapes themselves, obviously not in folder. The kind of metaphysical argument which I have in mind might be said, perhaps, to exemplify a dia-gogic or trans-ductive as opposed to epa-gogic or in-ductive approach to philosophical argumentation. Hence Short and Lewis have, for ‘diagoge,’ the cognates of ‘trādūco,’ f. transduco. Now, the more emphasis is placed on justification by elimination of the rival, the greater is the impetus given to refutation, whether of theses or of people. And perhaps a greater emphasis on a diagogic procedure, if it could be shown to be justifiable, would have an eirenic effect. Cf. Aristotle on diagoge, schole, otium. Liddell and Scott have “διαγωγή,” which they render as “literally carrying across,” -- “τριήρων” Polyaen.5.2.6, also as “carrying through,” and “hence fig.” “ἡ διὰ πάντων αὐτῶν δ., “taking a person through a subject by instruction, Pl. Ep.343; so, course of instruction, lectures, ἐν τῇ ἐνεστώσῃ δ. prob. in Phld. Piet.25; also passing of life, way or course of life, “δ. βίου” Pl. R.344e: abs., Id. Tht.177a, etc., way of passing time, amusement, “δ. μετὰ παιδιᾶς” Arist. EN 1127b34, cf. 1177a27; “δ. ἐλευθέριος” Id. Pol.1339b5; διαγωγαὶ τοῦ συζῆν public pastimes, ib.1280b37, cf. Plu.126b (pl.). also delay, D.C. 57.3. management, τῶν πραγμάτων δ. dispatch of business, Id.48.5. IV. station for ships, f. l. in Hdn.4.2.8. And there are other entries to consider: διαγωγάν: διαίρεσιν, διανομήν, διέλευσιν. Grice knew what he was talking about! Refs.: The main sources listed under ‘desirability,’ above. There is a specific essay on ‘probability and life.’ Good keywords, too, are epagoge and induction The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

disimplicatum: the target is of course Davidson having the cheek to quote Grice’s Henriette Herz Trust lecture for the BA! Lewis and Short have ‘intendere’ under ‘in-tendo,’ which they render as ‘to stretch out or forth, extend, also to turn ones attention to, exert one’s self for, to purpose, endeavour,” and finaly as “intend”! “pergin, sceleste, intendere hanc arguere?” Plaut. Mil. 2, 4, 27 Grices tends towards claiming that you cannot extend what you dont intend. In the James lectures, Grice mentions the use of is to mean seem (The tie is red in this light), and see to mean hallucinate. The reductive analyses of being and seeing hold. We have here two cases of loose use (or disimplicature). Same now with his example in “Intention and Uncertainty” (henceforth, “Uncertainty”): Smith intends to climb Mt. Everest + [common-ground status: this is difficult]. Grices response to Davidsons pretty unfair use of Grices notion of conversational implicature in Davidsons analysis of intention caught a lot of interest. Pears loved Grices reply. Implicatum here is out of the question ‒ disimplicatum may not. Grice just saw that his theory of conversation is too social to be true when applied to intending. The doxastic condition is one of the entailments in an ascription of an intending. It cannot be cancelled as an implicatum can. If it can be cancelled, it is best seen as a disimplicatum, or a loose use by an utterer meaning less than what he says or explicitly conveys to more careful conversants. Grice and Davidson were members of The Grice and Davidson Mutual Admiration Society. Davidson, not being Oxonian, was perhaps not acquainted with Grices polemics at Oxford with Hart and Hampshire (where Grice sided with Pears, rather). Grice and Pears hold a minimalist approach to intending. On the other hand, Davidson makes what Grice sees as the same mistake again of building certainty into the concept. Grice finds that to apply the idea of a conversational implicatum at this point is too social to be true. Rather, Grice prefers to coin the conversational disimplicatum: Marmaduke Bloggs intends to climb Mt Everest on hands and knees. The utterance above, if merely reporting what Bloggs thinks, may involve a loose use of intends. The certainty on the agents part on the success of his enterprise is thus cast with doubt. Davidson was claiming that the agents belief in the probability of the object of the agents intention was a mere conversational implicatum on the utterers part. Grice responds that the ascription of such a belief is an entailment of a strict use of intend, even if, in cases where the utterer aims at a conversational disimplicatum, it can be dropped.  The addressee will still regard the utterer as abiding by the principle of conversational helpfulness. Pears was especially interested in the Davidson-Grice polemic on intending, disimplicature, disimplicature. Strictly, a section of his reply to Davidson. If Grices claim to fame is implicature, he finds disimplicature an intriguing notion to capture those occasions when an utterer means LESS than he says. His examples include: a loose use of intending (without the entailment of the doxastic condition), the uses of see in Shakespeareian contexts (Macbeth saw Banquo, Hamlet saw his father on the ramparts of Elsinore) and the use of is to mean seems (That tie is blue under this light, but green otherwise, when both conversants know that a change of colour is out of the question. He plays with Youre the cream in my coffee being an utterance where the disimplicature (i.e. entailment dropping) is total. Disimplicature does not appeal to a new principle of conversational rationality. It is perfectly accountable by the principle of conversational helpfulness, in particular, the desideratum of conversational candour. In everyday explanation we exploit, as Grice notes, an immense richness in the family of expressions that might be thought of as the wanting family. This wanting family includes expressions like want, desire, would like to, is eager to, is anxious to, would mind not…, the idea of  appeals to me, is thinking of, etc. As Grice remarks, The likeness and differences within this wanting family demand careful attention. In commenting on Davidsons treatment of wanting in Intending, Grice notes: It seems to Grice that the picture of the soul suggested by Davidsons treatment of wanting is remarkably tranquil and, one might almost say, computerized. It is the picture of an ideally decorous board meeting, at which the various heads of sections advance, from the standpoint of their particular provinces, the case for or against some proposed course of action. In the end the chairman passes judgement, effective for action; normally judiciously, though sometimes he is for one reason or another over-impressed with the presentation made by some particular member. Grices soul doesnt seem to him, a lot of the time, to be like that at all. It is more like a particularly unpleasant department meeting, in which some members shout, wont listen, and suborn other members to lie on their behalf; while the chairman, who is often himself under suspicion of cheating, endeavours to impose some kind of order; frequently to no effect, since sometimes the meeting breaks up in disorder, sometimes, though it appears to end comfortably, in reality all sorts of enduring lesions are set up, and sometimes, whatever the outcome of the meeting, individual members go off and do things unilaterally. Could it be that Davidson, of the New World, and Grice, of the Old World, have different idiolects regarding intend? Could well be! It is said that the New World is prone to hyperbole, so perhaps in Grices more cautious use, intend is restricted to the conditions HE wants it to restrict it too! Odd that for all the generosity he displays in Post-war Oxford philosophy (Surely I can help you analyse you concept of this or that, even if my use of the corresponding expression does not agree with yours), he goes to attack Davidson, and just for trying to be nice and apply the conversational implicatum to intend! Genial Grice! It is natural Davidson, with his naturalistic tendencies, would like to see intending as merely invoking in a weak fashion the idea of a strong psychological state as belief. And its natural that Grice hated that! Refs.: The source is Grice’s comment on Davidson on intending. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

ditto Grice disliked Strawson’s ditto theory in Analysis of ‘true’ as admittive performatory. 1620s, "in the month of the same name," Tuscan dialectal ditto "(in) the said (month or year)," literary Italian detto, past participle of dire "to say," from Latin dicere "speak, tell, say" (from PIE root *deik- "to show," also "pronounce solemnly").  Italian used the word to avoid repetition of month names in a series of dates, and in this sense it was picked up in English. Its generalized meaning of "the aforesaid, the same thing, same as above" is attested in English by 1670s. In early 19c. a suit of men's clothes of the same color and material through was ditto or dittoes (1755). Dittohead, self-description of followers of U.S. radio personality Rush Limbaugh, attested by 1995. dittoship is from 1869.

disjunction: Grice lists ‘or’ as the second binary functor in his response to Strawson. While he never approached the topic separately, it’s easy to find remarks about disjunction in his oeuvre. A veritable genealogy of disjunction can be traced along Griceian lines. Refs.: Grice uses an illustration involving ‘or’ in the ‘implication’ excursus in “Causal Theory.” But the systematic account comes from WoW, especially essay 4.

dossier: Grice’s favourite vacuous name is ‘Bellerophon.’ ‘Vacuous names’ is an essay commissioned by Davison and Hintikka for Words and objections: essays on the work of W. V. Quine (henceforth, W and O) for Reidel, Dordrecht. “W and O” had appeared (without Grices contribution) as a special issue of Synthese. Grices contribution, along with Quines Reply to Grice, appeared only in the reprint of that special issue for Reidel in Dordrecht. Grice cites from various philosophers (and logicians ‒ this was the time when logic was starting to be taught outside philosophy departments, or sub-faculties), such as Mitchell, Myro, Mates, Donnellan, Strawson, Grice was particularly proud to be able to quote Mates by mouth or book. Grice takes the opportunity, in his tribute to Quine, to introduce one of two of his syntactical devices to allow for conversational implicata to be given maximal scope. The device in Vacuous Namess is a subscription device to indicate the ordering of introduction of this or that operation. Grice wants to give room for utterances of a special existential kind be deemed rational/reasonable, provided the principle of conversational helfpulness is thought of by the addressee to be followed by the utterer. Someone isnt attending the party organised by the Merseyside Geographical Society. That is Marmaduke Bloggs, who climbed Mt. Everest on hands and knees. But who, as it happened, turned out to be an invention of the journalists at the Merseyside Newsletter, “W and O,” vacuous name, identificatory use, non-identificatory use, subscript device. Davidson and Hintikka were well aware of the New-World impact of the Old-World ideas displayed by Grice and Strawson in their attack to Quine. Quine had indeed addressed Grices and Strawsons sophisticated version of the paradigm-case argument in Word and Object.  Davidson and Hintikka arranged to publish a special issue for a periodical publication, to which Strawson had already contributed. It was only natural, when Davidson and Hintikka were informed by Reidel of their interest in turning the special issue into a separate volume, that they would approach the other infamous member of the dynamic duo! Commissioned by Davidson and Hintikka for “W and O.” Grice introduces a subscript device to account for implicata of utterances like Marmaduke Bloggs won’t be attending the party; he was invented by the journalists. In the later section, he explores identificatory and non identificatory uses of the without involving himself in the problems Donnellan did! Some philosophers, notably Ostertag, have found the latter section the most intriguing bit, and thus Ostertag cared to reprint the section on Descriptions for his edited MIT volume on the topic. The essay is structured very systematically with an initial section on a calculus alla Gentzen, followed by implicata of vacuous Namess such as Marmaduke Bloggs, to end with definite descriptions, repr. in Ostertag, and psychological predicates. It is best to focus on a few things here. First his imaginary dialogues on Marmaduke Bloggs, brilliant! Second, this as a preamble to his Presupposition and conversational implicature. There is a quantifier phrase, the, and two uses of it: one is an identificatory use (the haberdasher is clumsy, or THE haberdasher is clumsy, as Grice prefers) and then theres a derived, non-identificatory use: the haberdasher (whoever she was! to use Grices and Mitchells addendum) shows her clumsiness. The use of the numeric subscripts were complicated enough to delay the publication of this. The whole thing was a special issue of a journal. Grices contribution came when Reidel turned that into a volume. Grice later replaced his numeric subscript device by square brackets. Perhaps the square brackets are not subtle enough, though. Grices contribution, Vacuous Namess, later repr. in part “Definite descriptions,” ed. Ostertag, concludes with an exploration of the phrases, and further on, with some intriguing remarks on the subtle issues surrounding the scope of an ascription of a predicate standing for a psychological state or attitude.  Grices choice of an ascription now notably involves an opaque (rather than factive, like know) psychological state or attitude: wanting, which he symbolizes as W.  Grice considers a quartet of utterances: Jack wants someone to marry him; Jack wants someone or other to marry him; Jack wants a particular person to marry him, and There is someone whom Jack wants to marry him.Grice notes that there are clearly at least two possible readings of an utterance like our (i): a first reading in which, as Grice puts it, (i) might be paraphrased by (ii). A second reading is one in which it might be paraphrased by (iii) or by (iv). Grice goes on to symbolize the phenomenon in his own version of a first-order predicate calculus. Ja wants that p becomes W^jap where ja stands for the individual constant Jack as a super-script attached to the predicate standing for Jacks psychological state or attitude. Grice writes: Using the apparatus of classical predicate logic, we might hope to represent, respectively, the external reading and the internal reading (involving an intentio secunda or intentio obliqua) as (Ǝx)W^jaFxja and W^ja(Ǝx)Fxja. Grice then goes on to discuss a slightly more complex, or oblique, scenario involving this second internal reading, which is the one that interests us, as it involves an intentio seconda.Grice notes: But suppose that Jack wants a specific individual, Jill, to marry him, and this because Jack has been deceived into thinking that his friend Joe has a highly delectable sister called Jill, though in fact Joe is an only child. The Jill Jack eventually goes up the hill with is, coincidentally, another Jill, possibly existent. Let us recall that Grices main focus of the whole essay is, as the title goes, emptiness! In these circumstances, one is inclined to say that (i) is true only on reading (vii), where the existential quantifier occurs within the scope of the psychological-state or -attitude verb, but we cannot now represent (ii) or (iii), with Jill being vacuous, by (vi), where the existential quantifier (Ǝx) occurs outside the scope of the psychological-attitude verb, want, since [well,] Jill does not really exist, except as a figment of Jacks imagination. In a manoeuver that I interpret as purely intentionalist, and thus favouring by far Suppess over Chomskys characterisation of Grice as a mere behaviourist, Grice hopes that we should be provided with distinct representations for two familiar readings of, now: Jack wants Jill to marry him and Jack wants Jill to marry him. It is at this point that Grice applies a syntactic scope notation involving sub-scripted numerals, (ix) and (x), where the numeric values merely indicate the order of introduction of the symbol to which it is attached in a deductive schema for the predicate calculus in question. Only the first formulation represents the internal reading (where ji stands for Jill): W₂^ja4F₁ji₃ja₄ and W₃^ja4F₂ji₁ja_4. Note that in the second formulation, the individual constant for Jill, ji, is introduced prior to want, – jis sub-script is 1, while Ws sub-script is the higher numerical value 3. Grice notes: Given that Jill does not exist, only the internal reading can be true, or alethically satisfactory. Grice sums up his reflections on the representation of the opaqueness of a verb standing for a psychological state or attitude like that expressed by wanting with one observation that further marks him as an intentionalist, almost of a Meinongian type. He is willing to allow for existential phrases in cases of vacuous designata, provided they occur within opaque psychological-state or attitude verbs, and he thinks that by doing this, he is being faithful to the richness and exuberance of ordinary discourse, while keeping Quine happy. As Grice puts it, we should also have available to us also three neutral, yet distinct, (Ǝx)-quantificational forms (together with their isomorphs), as a philosopher who thinks that Wittgenstein denies a distinction, craves for a generality! Jill now becomes x. W4ja5Ǝx3F1x2ja5, Ǝx5W2ja5F1x4ja3, Ǝx5W3ja4F1x2ja4. As Grice notes, since in (xii) the individual variable x (ranging over Jill) does not dominate the segment following the (Ǝx) quantifier, the formulation does not display any existential or de re, force, and is suitable therefore for representing the internal readings (ii) or (iii), if we have to allow, as we do have, if we want to faithfully represent ordinary discourse, for the possibility of expressing the fact that a particular person, Jill, does not actually exist. At least Grice does not write, really, for he knew that Austin detested a trouser word! Grice concludes that (xi) and (xiii) will be derivable from each of (ix) and (x), while (xii) will be derivable only from (ix).Grice had been Strawsons logic tutor at St. Johns (Mabbott was teaching the grand stuff!) and it shows! One topic that especially concerned Grice relates to the introduction and elimination rules, as he later searches for generic satisfactoriness. Grice wonders [W]hat should be said of Takeutis conjecture (roughly) that the nature of the introduction rule determines the character of the elimination rule? There seems to be no particular problem about allowing an introduction rule which tells us that, if it is established in Xs personalized system that φ, then it is necessary with respect to X that φ is true (establishable). The accompanying elimination rule is, however, slightly less promising. If we suppose such a rule to tell us that, if one is committed to the idea that it is necessary with respect to X that φ, then one is also committed to whatever is expressed by φ, we shall be in trouble; for such a rule is not acceptable; φ will be a volitive expression such as let it be that X eats his hat; and my commitment to the idea that Xs system requires him to eat his hat does not ipso facto involve me in accepting (buletically) let X eat his hat. But if we take the elimination rule rather as telling us that, if it is necessary with respect to X that let X eat his hat, then let X eat his hat possesses satisfactoriness-with-respect-to-X, the situation is easier; for this version of the rule seems inoffensive, even for Takeuti, we hope. A very interesting concept Grice introduces in the definite-descriptor section of Vacuous Namess is that of a conversational dossier, for which he uses δ for a definite descriptor. The key concept is that of conversational dossier overlap, common ground, or conversational pool. Let us say that an utterer U has a dossier for a definite description δ if there is a set of definite descriptions which include δ, all the members of which the utterer supposes to be satisfied by one and the same item and the utterer U intends his addressee A to think (via the recognition that A is so intended) that the utterer U has a dossier for the definite description δ which the utterer uses, and that the utterer U has specifically selected (or chosen, or picked) this specific δ from this dossier at least partly in the hope that his addressee A has his own dossier for δ which overlaps the utterers dossier for δ, viz. shares a substantial, or in some way specially favoured, su-bset with the utterers dossier. Its unfortunate that the idea of a dossier is not better known amog Oxonian philosophers. Unlike approaches to the phenomenon by other Oxonian philosophers like Grices tutee Strawson and his three principles (conversational relevance, presumption of conversational knowledge, and presumption of conversational ignorance) or Urmson and his, apter than Strawsons, principle of conversational appositeness (Mrs.Smiths husband just delivered a letter, You mean the postman!?), only Grice took to task the idea of formalising this in terms of set-theory and philosophical psychology  ‒ note his charming reference to the utterers hope (never mind intention) that his choice of d from his dossier will overlap with some d in the dossier of his his addressee. The point of adding whoever he may be for the non-identificatory is made by Mitchell, of Worcester, in his Griceian textbook for Hutchinson. Refs.: The main reference is Grice’s “Vacuous names,” in “W and O” and its attending notes, BANC.

egcrateia: the geniality of Grice was to explore theoretical akrasia. Of course, it does not paint a good picture of the philosopher why he should be obsessed with ‘akrasia,’ when Aristotle actually opposed the notion to that of ‘enkrateia,’ or ‘continence.’ Surely a philosopher needs to provide a reductive analysis of ‘continence,’ first; and the reductive analysis of ‘incontinence’ will follow. Aristotle, as Grice well knew, is being a Platonist here, so by ‘continence,’ he meant a power structure of the soul, with the ‘rational’ soul containing the pre-rational or non-rational soul (animal soul, and vegetal soul). And right he was, too! So, Grice's twist is Έγκράτεια, sic in capitals! Liddell and Scott has it as ‘ἐγκράτεια’ [ρα^], which they render as “mastery over,” as used by Plato in The Republic: “ἐ. ἑαυτοῦ,” meaning ‘self-control’ (Pl. R.390b; ἐ. ἡδονῶν καὶ ἐπιθυμιῶν control over them, ib.430e, cf. X.Mem.2.1.1, Isoc.1.21; “περί τι” Arist.EN1149a21, al. Liddell and Scott go on to give a reference to Grice’s beloved “Eth. Nich.” (1145b8) II. abs., self-control, X. Mem.1.5.1, Isoc.3.44, Arist. EN. 1145b8, al., LXX Si.18.30, Act.Ap. 24.25, etc. Richards, an emotivist, as well as Collingwood (in “Language”) had made a stereotype of the physicist drawing a formula on the blackboard. “Full of emotion.” So the idea that there is an UN-emotional life is a fallacy. Emotion pervades the rational life, as does akrasia. Grice was particularly irritated by the fact that Davidson, who lacked a background in the humanities and the classics, could think of akrasia as “impossible”! Grice was never too interested in emotion (or feeling) because while we do say I feel that the cat is hungry, we also say, Im feeling byzantine. The concept of emotion needs a philosophical elucidation. Grice was curious about a linguistic botany for that! Akrasia for Grice covers both buletic-boulomaic and doxastic versions. The buletic-boulomaic version may be closer to the concept of an emotion. Grice quotes from Kennys essay on emotion. But Grice is looking for more of a linguistic botany. As it happens, Kennys essay has Griceian implicata. One problem Grice finds with emotion is that feel that  sometimes behaves like thinks that  Another is that there is no good Grecian word for emotio.  Kenny, of St. Benets, completed his essay on emotion under Quinton (who would occasionally give seminars with Grice), and examined by two members of Grices Play Group: Pears and Gardiner. Kenny connects an emotion to a feeling, which brings us to Grice on feeling boringly byzantine! Grice proposes a derivation of akrasia in conditional steps for both buletic-boulomaic and doxastic akrasia. Hence we have in L and S, ἐπιθυμία , Ion. -ιη, ἡ, which they render as desire, yearning, “ἐ. ἐκτελέσαι” Hdt.1.32; ἐπιθυμίᾳ by passion, oπρονοίᾳ, Th.6.13: generally, appetite, Pl. Cra.419d, etc.; αἱ κατὰ τὸ σῶμα ἐ. Id. Phd. 82c; esp. sexual desire, lust, Democr.234 (pl.), Pl. Phdr.232b, etc.; αἱ πρὸς τοὺς παῖδας ἐ. X.Lac.2.14. 2..c. gen., longing after a thing, desire of or for it, ὕδατος, τοῦ πιεῖν, Th. 2.52, 7.84, etc.; “τοῦ πλέονος” Democr. 224; “τῆς τιμωρίας” Antipho 2.1.7; “τῆς μεθ᾽ ὑμῶν πολιτείας” And. 2.10; “τῆς παρθενίας” Pl. Cra. 406b; “εἰς ἐ. τινὸς ἐλθεῖν” Id.Criti.113d; ἐν ἐ. “τινὸς εἶναι” Id. Prt.318a, Tht.143e; “γεγονέναι” Id. Lg. 841c; εἰς ἐ. τινὸς “ἀφικέσθαι θεάσασθαι” Id.Ti.19b; “ἐ. τινὸς ἐμβαλεῖν τινί” X. Cyr.1.1.5; ἐ. ἐμποιεῖν ἔς τινα an inclination towards, Th.4.81. II. =ἐπιθύμημα, object of desire, ἐπιθυμίας τυχεῖν Thalesap.Stob.3.1.172, cf. Lync. ap. Ath.7.295a; ἀνδρὸς ἐ., of woman, Secund.Sent.8; πενήτων ἐ., of sleep, prob. in ib. 13. There must be more to emotion, such as philia, than epithumia! cf. Grice on Aristotle on philos. What is an emotion? Aristotle, Rhetoric II.1; Konstan “Pathos and Passion” R. Roberts, “Emotion”; W. Fortenbaugh, Aristotle on Emotion; Simo Knuuttila, Emotions in Ancient and Medieval Philosophy. Aristotle, Rhetoric II.2-12; De Anima, Nicomachean Ethics, and Topics (Nexus); A. W. Price, "Emotions in Plato and Aristotle." The Oxford Handbook of Philosophy of Emotion  S. Leighton, Aristotle and the Emotions, De Anima II.12 and III 1-3; De Memoria 1; Rhetoric II.5; Scheiter, “Images, Imagination, and Appearances, V. Caston, Why Aristotle Needs Imagination” M. Nussbaum, “Aristotle on Emotions and Rational Persuasion, J. Cooper, “An Aristotelian Theory of Emotion, G. Striker, Emotions in Context: Aristotles Treatment of the Passions in the Rhetoric and his Moral Psychology." Essays on Aristotles Rhetoric (J. Dow, Aristotles Theory of the Emotions, Moral Psychology and Human Action in Aristotle PLATO. Aristotle, Rhetoric I.10-11; Plato Philebus 31b-50e and Republic IV, D. Frede, Mixed feelings in Aristotles Rhetoric." Essays on Aristotles Rhetoric, J. Moss, “Pictures and Passions in Plato”; Protagoras 352b-c, Phaedo 83b-84a, Timaeus 69c STOICS Long and Sedley, The Hellenistic philosophers; Tad Brennan, “The Old Stoic Theory of Emotion” The Emotions in Hellenistic Philosophy, ed. by Sihvola, T. Engberg-Pedersen, Sorabji, Emotion and Peace of Mind: From Stoic Agitation to Christian Temptation, Sorabji, Chrysippus Posidonius Seneca: A High-Level Debate on Emotion. Nussbaum, The Therapy of Desire: Theory and Practice in Hellenistic Ethics M. Graver, Preface and Introduction to Cicero on Emotion: Tusculan Disputations 3 and 4 M. Graver, Stoicism and emotion. Tusculan Disputations 3 Recommended: Graver, Margaret. "Philo of Alexandria and the Origins of the Stoic Προπάθειαι." Phronesis. Tusculan Disputations 4 Frede "The Stoic doctrine of the affections of the soul." Schofield and Striker, Brennan The Stoic life: Emotions, duties, and fate”; A. C. Lloyd, Emotion and decision in stoic psychology, The stoics, individual emotions: anger, friendly feeling, and hatred.  Aristotle Rhetoric II.2-3; Nicomachean Ethics IV.5; Topics 2.7 and 4.5; Konstan, Anger, Pearson, Aristotle on Desire; Scheiter, Review of Pearsons Aristotle on Desire; S. Leighton, Aristotles Account of Anger: Narcissism and Illusions of Self‐Sufficiency, Ratio 15, M. Stocker, The Complex Evaluative World of Aristotles Angry Man,” Valuing emotions. Aristotle Rhetoric II. 4; Konstan, “Hatred”  Konstan "Aristotle on Anger and the Emotions: the Strategies of Status." Ancient Anger: Perspectives from Homer to Galen, C. Rapp, The emotional dimension of friendship: notes on Aristotles account of philia in Rhetoric II 4” Grice endeavours to give an answer to the question whether and to what extent philia (friendship), as it is treated by Aristotle in Rhetoric II.4, can be considered a genuine emotion as, for example, fear and anger are. Three anomalies are identified in the definition and the account of philia (and of the associated verb philein), which suggest a negative response to the question. However, these anomalies are analysed and explained in terms of the specific notes of philia in order to show that Rhetoric II4 does allow for a consideration of friendship as a genuine emotion. Seneca, On Anger (De Ira) Seneca, On Anger Seneca, On Anger (62-96); K. Vogt, “Anger, Present Injustice, and Future Revenge in Senecas De Ira” FEAR Aristotle, Rhetoric II.5; Nicomachean Ethics III.6-9  S. Leighton, Aristotles Courageous Passions, Platos Laws I, S. Meyer, “Pleasure, Pain, and Anticipation in Platos Laws, Book I” Konstan, “Fear”  PITY Aristotle, Rhetoric II. 8-9; Poetics, chs. 6, 9-19 ; Konstan, “Pity”  E. Belfiore, Tragic pleasures: Aristotle on plot and emotion, Konstan, Aristotle on the Tragic Emotions, The Soul of Tragedy: Essays on Athenian Drama  SHAME Aristotle, Rhetoric II.6; Nicomachean Ethics IV.9 Konstan, Shame J. Moss, Shame, Pleasure, and the Divided Soul, B. Williams, Shame and Necessity. Aristotle investigates two character traits, continence and incontinence, that are not as blameworthy as the vices but not as praiseworthy as the virtues. The Grecian expressions are’enkrateia,’ continence, literally mastery, and krasia (“incontinence”; literally, lack of mastery. An akratic person goes against reason as a result of some pathos (emotion, feeling”). Like the akratic, an enkratic person experiences a feeling that is contrary to reason; but unlike the akratic, he acts in accordance with reason. His defect consists solely in the fact that, more than most people, he experiences passions that conflict with his rational choice. The akratic person has not only this defect, but has the further flaw that he gives in to feeling rather than reason more often than the average person.  Aristotle distinguishes two kinds of akrasia: “propeteia,” or impetuosity and “astheneia, or weakness. The person who is weak goes through a process of deliberation and makes a choice; but rather than act in accordance with his reasoned choice, he acts under the influence of a passion. By contrast, the impetuous person does not go through a process of deliberation and does not make a reasoned choice; he simply acts under the influence of a passion. At the time of action, the impetuous person experiences no internal conflict. But once his act has been completed, he regrets what he has done. One could say that he deliberates, if deliberation were something that post-dated rather than preceded action; but the thought process he goes through after he acts comes too late to save him from error.  It is important to bear in mind that when Aristotle talks about impetuosity and weakness, he is discussing chronic conditions. The impetuous person is someone who acts emotionally and fails to deliberate not just once or twice but with some frequency; he makes this error more than most people do. Because of this pattern in his actions, we would be justified in saying of the impetuous person that had his passions not prevented him from doing so, he would have deliberated and chosen an action different from the one he did perform.  The two kinds of passions that Aristotle focuses on, in his treatment of akrasia, are the appetite for pleasure and anger. Either can lead to impetuosity and weakness. But Aristotle gives pride of place to the appetite for pleasure as the passion that undermines reason. He calls the kind of akrasia caused by an appetite for pleasure (hedone) “unqualified akrasia”—or, as we might say, akrasia simpliciter, “full stop.’ Akrasia caused by anger he considers a qualified form of akrasia and calls it akrasia ‘with respect to anger.’ We thus have these four forms of akrasia: impetuosity caused by pleasure, impetuosity caused by anger, weakness caused by pleasure, weakness caused by anger. It should be noticed that Aristotle’s treatment of akrasia is heavily influenced by Plato’s tripartite division of the soul. Plato holds that either the spirited part (which houses anger, as well as other emotions) or the appetitive part (which houses the desire for physical pleasures) can disrupt the dictates of reason and result in action contrary to reason. The same threefold division of the soul can be seen in Aristotles approach to this topic. Although Aristotle characterizes akrasia and enkrateia in terms of a conflict between reason and feeling, his detailed analysis of these states of mind shows that what takes place is best described in a more complicated way. For the feeling that undermines reason contains some thought, which may be implicitly general. As Aristotle says, anger “reasoning as it were that one must fight against such a thing, is immediately provoked. And although in the next sentence he denies that our appetite for pleasure works in this way, he earlier had said that there can be a syllogism that favors pursuing enjoyment: “Everything sweet is pleasant, and this is sweet” leads to the pursuit of a particular pleasure. Perhaps what he has in mind is that pleasure can operate in either way: it can prompt action unmediated by a general premise, or it can prompt us to act on such a syllogism. By contrast, anger always moves us by presenting itself as a bit of general, although hasty, reasoning.  But of course Aristotle does not mean that a conflicted person has more than one faculty of reason. Rather his idea seems to be that in addition to our full-fledged reasoning capacity, we also have psychological mechanisms that are capable of a limited range of reasoning. When feeling conflicts with reason, what occurs is better described as a fight between feeling-allied-with-limited-reasoning and full-fledged reason. Part of us—reason—can remove itself from the distorting influence of feeling and consider all relevant factors, positive and negative. But another part of us—feeling or emotion—has a more limited field of reasoning—and sometimes it does not even make use of it.  Although “passion” is sometimes used as a translation of Aristotles word pathos (other alternatives are emotion” and feeling), it is important to bear in mind that his term does not necessarily designate a strong psychological force. Anger is a pathos whether it is weak or strong; so too is the appetite for bodily pleasures. And he clearly indicates that it is possible for an akratic person to be defeated by a weak pathos—the kind that most people would easily be able to control. So the general explanation for the occurrence of akrasia cannot be that the strength of a passion overwhelms reason. Aristotle should therefore be acquitted of an accusation made against him by Austin in a well-known footnote to ‘A Plea For Excuses.’ Plato and Aristotle, Austin says, collapsed all succumbing to temptation into losing control of ourselves — a mistake illustrated by this example. I am very partial to ice cream, and a bombe is served divided into segments corresponding one to one with the persons at High Table. I am tempted to help myself to two segments and do so, thus succumbing to temptation and even conceivably (but why necessarily?) going against my principles. But do I lose control of myself? Do I raven, do I snatch the morsels from the dish and wolf them down, impervious to the consternation of my colleagues? Not a bit of it. We often succumb to temptation with calm and even with finesse. With this, Aristotle can agree. The pathos for the bombe can be a weak one, and in some people that will be enough to get them to act in a way that is disapproved by their reason at the very time of action.  What is most remarkable about Aristotle’s discussion of akrasia is that he defends a position close to that of Socrates. When he first introduces the topic of akrasia, and surveys some of the problems involved in understanding this phenomenon, he says that Socrates held that there is no akrasia, and he describes this as a thesis that clearly conflicts with the appearances (phainomena). Since he says that his goal is to preserve as many of the appearances as possible, it may come as a surprise that when he analyzes the conflict between reason and feeling, he arrives at the conclusion that in a way Socrates was right after all. For, he says, the person who acts against reason does not have what is thought to be unqualified knowledge; in a way he has knowledge, but in a way does not.  Aristotle explains what he has in mind by comparing akrasia to the condition of other people who might be described as knowing in a way, but not in an unqualified way. His examples are people who are asleep, mad, or drunk; he also compares the akratic to a student who has just begun to learn a Subjects, or an actor on the stage. All of these people, he says, can utter the very words used by those who have knowledge; but their talk does not prove that they really have knowledge, strictly speaking.  These analogies can be taken to mean that the form of akrasia that Aristotle calls weakness rather than impetuosity always results from some diminution of cognitive or intellectual acuity at the moment of action. The akratic says, at the time of action, that he ought not to indulge in this particular pleasure at this time. But does he know or even believe that he should refrain? Aristotle might be taken to reply: yes and no. He has some degree of recognition that he must not do this now, but not full recognition. His feeling, even if it is weak, has to some degree prevented him from completely grasping or affirming the point that he should not do this. And so in a way Socrates was right. When reason remains unimpaired and unclouded, its dictates will carry us all the way to action, so long as we are able to act.  But Aristotles agreement with Socrates is only partial, because he insists on the power of the emotions to rival, weaken or bypass reason. Emotion challenges reason in all three of these ways. In both the akratic and the enkratic, it competes with reason for control over action; even when reason wins, it faces the difficult task of having to struggle with an internal rival. Second, in the akratic, it temporarily robs reason of its full acuity, thus handicapping it as a competitor. It is not merely a rival force, in these cases; it is a force that keeps reason from fully exercising its power. And third, passion can make someone impetuous; here its victory over reason is so powerful that the latter does not even enter into the arena of conscious reflection until it is too late to influence action. That, at any rate, is one way of interpreting Aristotle’s statements. But it must be admitted that his remarks are obscure and leave room for alternative readings. It is possible that when he denies that the akratic has knowledge in the strict sense, he is simply insisting on the point that no one should be classified as having practical knowledge unless he actually acts in accordance with it. A practical knower is not someone who merely has knowledge of general premises; he must also have knowledge of particulars, and he must actually draw the conclusion of the syllogism. Perhaps drawing such a conclusion consists in nothing less than performing the action called for by the major and minor premises. Since this is something the akratic does not do, he lacks knowledge; his ignorance is constituted by his error in action. On this reading, there is no basis for attributing to Aristotle the thesis that the kind of akrasia he calls weakness is caused by a diminution of intellectual acuity. His explanation of akrasia is simply that pathos is sometimes a stronger motivational force than full-fledged reason.  This is a difficult reading to defend, however, for Aristotle says that after someone experiences a bout of akrasia his ignorance is dissolved and he becomes a knower again. In context, that appears to be a remark about the form of akrasia Aristotle calls weakness rather than impetuosity. If so, he is saying that when an akratic person is Subjects to two conflicting influences—full-fledged reason versus the minimal rationality of emotion—his state of knowledge is somehow temporarily undone but is later restored. Here, knowledge cannot be constituted by the performance of an act, because that is not the sort of thing that can be restored at a later time. What can be restored is ones full recognition or affirmation of the fact that this act has a certain undesirable feature, or that it should not be performed. Aristotle’s analysis seems to be that both forms of akrasia — weakness and impetuosity —share a common structure: in each case, ones full affirmation or grasp of what one should do comes too late. The difference is that in the case of weakness but not impetuosity, the akratic act is preceded by a full-fledged rational cognition of what one should do right now. That recognition is briefly and temporarily diminished by the onset of a less than fully rational affect.  There is one other way in which Aristotle’s treatment of akrasia is close to the Socratic thesis that what people call akrasia is really ignorance. Aristotle holds that if one is in the special mental condition that he calls practical wisdom, then one cannot be, nor will one ever become, an akratic person. For practical wisdom is present only in those who also possess the ethical virtues, and these qualities require complete emotional mastery. Anger and appetite are fully in harmony with reason, if one is practically wise, and so this intellectual virtue is incompatible with the sort of inner conflict experienced by the akratic person. Furthermore, one is called practically wise not merely on the basis of what one believes or knows, but also on the basis of what one does. Therefore, the sort of knowledge that is lost and regained during a bout of akrasia cannot be called practical wisdom. It is knowledge only in a loose sense. The low-level grasp of the ordinary person of what to do is precisely the sort of thing that can lose its acuity and motivating power, because it was never much of an intellectual accomplishment to begin with. That is what Aristotle is getting at when he compares it with the utterances of actors, students, sleepers, drunks, and madmen. Grice had witnessed how Hare had suffere to try and deal with how to combine the geniality that “The language of morals” is with his account of akrasia. Most Oxonians were unhappy with Hares account of akrasia. Its like, in deontic logic, you cannot actually deal with akrasia. You need buletics. You need the desiderative, so that you can oppose what is desired with the duty, even if both concepts are related. “Akrasia” has a nice Grecian touch about it, and Grice and Hare, as Lit. Hum., rejoiced in being able to explore what Aristotle had to say about it. They wouldnt go far beyond Aristotle. Plato and Aristotle were the only Greek philosophers studied for the Lit. Hum. To venture with the pre-socratics or the hellenistics (even if Aristotle is one) was not classy enough! Like Pears in Motivated irrationality, Grice allows that benevolentia may be deemed beneficentia. If Smith has the good will to give Jones a job, he may be deemed to have given Jones the job, even if Jones never get it. In buletic akrasia we must consider the conclusion to be desiring what is not best for the agents own good, never mind if he refrains from doing what is not best for his own good. Video meliora proboque deteriora sequor. We shouldnt be saying this, but we are saying it! Grice prefers akrasia, but he is happy to use the translation by Cicero, also negative, of this: incontinentia, as if continentia were a virtue! For Grice, the alleged paradox of akrasia, both alethic and practical, has to be accounted for by a theory of rationality from the start, and not be deemed a stumbling block. Grice is interested in both the common-or-garden buletic-boulomaic version of akrasia, involving the volitive soul ‒ in term of desirability  ‒ and doxastic akrasia, involing the judicative soul proper  ‒ in terms of probability. Grice considers buletic akrasia and doxastic akrasia ‒ the latter yet distinct from Moores paradox, p but I dont want to believe that p, in symbols p and ~ψb-dp. Akarsia, see egcrateia. Refs.: The main references here are in three folders in two different series. H. P. Grice, “Akrasia,” The H. P. Grice Papers, S. II, c. 2-ff. 22-23 and S. V, c. 6-f. 32, BANC.

emotion: Grice enjoyed a bit of history of philosophy. Diog. Laert. of Zeno of Citium. πρὸς τὸν εἰπόντα, "πολλοί σου καταγελῶσιν," "ἀλλ ἐγώ," ἔφη, "οὐ κατα- γελῶμαι; to the question, who is a friend?, Zeno’s answer is, ‘a second self (alter ego). One direct way to approach friend is via emotion, as Aristotle did, and found it aporetic as did Grice. Aristotle discusses philia in Eth. Nich. but it is in Rhet. where he allows for phulia to be an emotion. Grice was very fortunate to have Hardie as his tutor. He overused Hardies lectures on Aristotle, too, and instilled them on his own tutees! Grice is concerned with the rather cryptic view by Aristotle of the friend (philos, amicus) as the alter ego. In Grices cooperative, concerted, view of things, a friend in need is a friend indeed! Grice is interested in Aristotle finding himself in an aporia. In Nicomachean Ethics IX.ix, Aristotle poses the question whether the happy man will need friends or not. Kosman correctly identifies this question as asking not whether friends are necessary in order to achieve eudæmonia, but why we require friends even when we are happy. The question is not why we need friends to become happy, but why we need friends when we are happy, since the eudæmon must be self-sufficient. Philia is required for the flourishing of the life of practical virtue. The solution by Aristotle to the aporia here, however, points to the requirement of friendships even for the philosopher, in his life of theoretical virtue. The olution by Aristotle to the aporia in Nicomachean Ethics IX.ix is opaque, and the corresponding passage in Eudeiman Ethics VII.xii is scarcely better. Aristotle thinks he has found the solution to this aporia. We must take two things into consideration, that life is desirable and also that the good is, and thence that it is desirable that such a nature should belong to oneself as it belongs to them. If then, of such a pair of corresponding s. there is always one s. of the desirable, and the known and the perceived are in general constituted by their participation in the nature of the determined, so that to wish to perceive ones self is to wish oneself to be of a certain definite character,—since, then we are not in ourselves possessed of each such characters, but only in participation in these qualities in perceiving and knowing—for the perceiver becomes perceived in that way in respect in which he first perceives, and according to the way in which and the object which he perceives; and the knower becomes known in the same way— therefore it is for this reason that one always desires to live, because one always desires to know; and this is because he himself wishes to be the object known. Refs.: There is an essay on “Emotions and akrasia,” but the topic is scattered in various places, such as Grice’s reply to Davidson on intending. Grice has an essay on ‘Kant and friendship,’ too, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

entailment: Grice thought that we probably did need an entailment. The symposium was held in New York with Dana Scott and R. K. Meyer. The notion had been mis-introduced (according to Strawson) in the philosophical literature by Moore. Grice is especially interested in the entailment + implicatum pair. A philosophical expression may be said to be co-related to an entailment (which is rendered in terms of a reductive analysis).  However, the use of the expression may co-relate to this or that implicatum which is rendered reasonable in the light of the assumption by the addressee that the utterer is ultimately abiding by a principle of conversational helfpulness. Grice thinks many philosophers take an implicatum as an entailment when they surely shouldnt! Grice was more interested than Strawson was in the coinage by Moore of entailment for logical consequence. As an analyst, Grice knew that a true conceptual analysis needs to be reductive (if not reductionist). The prongs the analyst lists are thus entailments of the concept in question. Philosophers, however, may misidentify what is an entailment for an implicature, or vice versa. Initially, Grice was interested in the second family of cases. With his coinage of disimplicature, Grice expands his interest to cover the first family of cases, too. Grice remains a philosophical methodologist. He is not so much concerned with any area or discipline or philosophical concept per se (unless its rationality), but with the misuses of some tools in the philosophy of language as committed by some of his colleagues at Oxford. While entailment, was, for Strawson mis-introduced in the philosophical literature by Moore, entailment seems to be less involved in paradoxes than if is. Grice connects the two, as indeed his tutee Strawson did! As it happens, Strawsons Necessary propositions and entailment statements is his very first published essay, with Mind, a re-write of an unpublication unwritten elsewhere, and which Grice read. The relation of consequence may be considered a meta-conditional, where paradoxes arise. Grices Bootstrap is a principle designed to impoverish the metalanguage so that the philosopher can succeed in the business of pulling himself up by his own! Grice then takes a look at Strawsons very first publication (an unpublication he had written elsewhere). Grice finds Strawson thought he could provide a simple solution to the so-called paradoxes of entailment. 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. ~(pΛ~q) is rejected as an analysis of p entails q because it involves this or that allegedly paradoxical implicatum, as that any false proposition entails any proposition and any true proposition is entailed by any proposition. It is a commonplace that Lewiss amendment had consequences scarcely less paradoxical in terms of the implicata. 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, Lewiss definition of entailment (i.e. of the relation which holds from p to q whenever q is deducible from p) 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 it is equally clear that the addition of some provision does avoid them. One may proposes that one should use  entails  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, or pΛ~q is impossible and neither p nor q, nor either of their contradictories, is necessary. Thus, the paradoxes are avoided. For 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 that p1 entails q2 as merely falling into the equally paradoxical assertion that 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 p1Λ~(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 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 objected that Strawsons cure was worse than Moores disease! 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. And here is where Grices implicature is meant to do the trick! Or not! When Levinson proposed + for conversationally implicature, he is thinking of contrasting it with ⊢.  But things aint that easy. Even the grammar is more complicated: By uttering He is an adult, U explicitly conveys that he is an adult. What U explicitly conveys entails that he is not a child. What U implies is that he should be treated accordingly. Refs.: One good reference is the essay on “Paradoxes of entailment,” in the Grice papers; also his contribution to a symposium for the APA under a separate series, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

eschatology: being and good, for Aristotle and Grice cover all. Good was a favourite of Moore and Hare, as Barnes was well aware! Like Barnes, Grice dislikes Prichards analysis of good. He leans towards the emotion-based approach by Ogden. If Grice, like Humpty Dumpty, opposes the Establishment with his meaning liberalism (what a word means is what I mean by uttering it), he certainly should be concerned with category shifts. Plus, Grice was a closet Platonist. As Plato once remarked, having the ability to see horses but not horsehood (ἱππότης) is a mark of stupidity – rendered by Liddell and Scott as “horse-nature, the concept of horse” (Antisth. et Pl. ap. Simp.in Cat.208.30,32, Sch.AristId.p.167F). Grice would endure the flinty experience of giving joint seminars at Oxford with Austin on the first two books of Aristotles Organon, Categoriae, and De Int. Grice finds the use of a category, κατηγορία, by Aristotle a bit of a geniality. Aristotle is using legalese, from kata, against, on, and agoreuô [ἀγορεύω], speak in public), and uses it to designate both the prosecution in a trial and the attribution in a logical proposition, i. e., the questions that must be asked with regard to a Subjects, and the answers that can be given. As a representative of the linguistic turn in philosophy, Grice is attracted to the idea that a category can thus be understood variously, as applying to the realm of reality (ontology), but also to the philosophy of language (category of expression) and to philosophical psychology (category of representation). Grice kept his explorations on categories under two very separate, shall we say, categories: his explorations with Austin (very serious), and those with Strawson (more congenial). Where is Smiths altruism? Nowhere to be seen. Should we say it is idle (otiose) to speak of altruism? No, it is just an attribute, which, via category shift, can be made the Subjects of your sentence, Strawson. It is not spatio-temporal, though, right. Not really.  ‒ I do not particularly like your trouser words. The essay is easy to date since Grice notes that Strawson reproduced some of the details in his Individuals, which we can very well date. Grice thought Aristotle was the best! Or at any rate almost as good as Kantotle! Aristotle saw Categoriæ, along with De Int. as part of his Organon. However, philosophers of language tend to explore these topics without a consideration of the later parts of the Organon dealing with the syllogism, the tropes, and the topics ‒ the boring bits! The reason Grice is attracted to the Aristotelian category (as Austin and Strawson equally were) is that category allows for a linguistic-turn reading. Plus, its a nice, pretentious (in the Oxonian way) piece of philosophical jargon! Aristotle couldnt find category in the koine, so he had to coin it. While meant by Aristotle in a primarily ontological way, Oxonian philosophers hasten to add that a category of expression, as Grice puts it, is just as valid a topic for philosophical exploration. His tutee Strawson will actually publish a book on Subjects and predicate in grammar! (Trivial, Strawson!). Grice will later add an intermediary category, which is the Subjects of his philosophical psychology. As such, a category can be construed ontologically, or representationally: the latter involving philosophical psychological concepts, and expressions themselves. For Aristotle, as Grice and Austin, and Grice and Strawson, were well aware as they educated some of the poor at Oxford (Only the poor learn at Oxford ‒ Arnold), there are (at least ‒ at most?) ten categories. Grice doesnt (really) care about the number. But the first are important. Actually the very first: theres substantia prima, such as Grice. And then theres substantia secunda, such as Grices rationality. The essentia. Then there are various types of attributes. But, as Grice sharply notes, even substantia secunda may be regarded as an attribute. Grices favourite game with Strawson was indeed Category Shift, or Subjects-ification, as Strawson preferred. Essence may be introduced as a sub-type of an attribute. We would have substantia prima AND attribute, which in turn gets divided into essential, the izzing, and non-essential, the hazzing. While Austin is not so fun to play with, Strawson is. Smith is a very altruist person. Where is his altruism? Nowhere to be seen, really. Yet we may sensically speak of Smiths altruism. It is just a matter of a category shift. Grice scores. Grice is slightly disappointed, but he perfectly understands, that Strawson, who footnotes Grice as the tutor from whom I never ceased to learn about logic in Introduction to logical lheory, fails to acknowledge that most of the research in Strawsons Individuals: an essay in descriptive (not revisionary) metaphysics derives from the conclusions reached at his joint philosophical investigations at joint seminars with Grice. Grice later elaborates on this with Code, who is keen on Grices other game, the hazz and the hazz not, the izz. But then tutor from whom I never ceased to learn about metaphysics sounds slightlier clumsier, as far as the implicature goes. Categories, the Grice-Myro theory of identity, Relative identity, Grice on =, identity, notes, with Myro, metaphysics, philosophy, with Code, Grice izz Grice – or izz he? The idea that = is unqualified requires qualification. Whitehead and Russell ignored this. Grice and Myro didnt. Grice wants to allow for It is the case that a = b /t1 and it is not the case that a = b /t2. The idea is intuitive, but philosophers of a Leibnizian bent are too accustomed to deal with = as an absolute. Grice applies this to human vs. person. A human may be identical to a person, but cease to be so. Indeed, Grices earlier attempt to produce a reductive analsysis of I may be seen as remedying a circularity he detected in Locke about same. Cf. Wiggins, Sameness and substance. Grice makes Peano feel deeply Griceian, as Grice lists his = postulates, here for consideration. And if you wondered why Grice prefers Latinate individuum to the Grecian. The Grecian is “ἄτομον,” in logic, rendered by L and S as ‘individual, of terms,’ Pl. Sph. 229d; of the εἶδος or forma, Arist. Metaph.1034a8, de An. 414b27.2. individual, Id. APo. 96b11, al.: as a subst., τό ἄτομον, Id. Cat. 1b6, 3a38, Metaph.1058a18 (pl.), Plot. 6.2.2, al. subst.; latinised from Grecian. Lewis and Short have “indīvĭdŭum,” an atom, indivisible particle: ex illis individuis, unde omnia Democritus gigni affirmat, Cic. Ac. 2, 17 fin.: ne individuum quidem, nec quod dirimi distrahive non possit, id. N. D. 3, 12, 29. Note the use of individuum in alethic modalities for necessity and possibility, starting with (11).  ⊢ (α izzes α). This would be the principle of non-contradiction or identity. Grice applies it to war: War is war, as yielding a most peculiar implicature. ⊢ (α izzes β ∧ β izzes γ) ⊃ α izzes γ. This above is transitivity, which is crucial for Grices tackling of Reids counterexample to Locke (and which according to Flew in Locke on personal identity was predated by Berkeley.  ⊢ α hazzes β ⊃ ~(α izzes β). Or, what is accidental is not essential. Grice allows that what is essential is accidental is, while misleading, true. ⊢ α hazzes β ⊃⊂ (∃x)(α hazzes x ∧ x izzes β)  ⊢ (∀β)(β izzes a universalium ⊃ β izzes a forma). This above defines a universalium as a forma, or eidos.  ⊢ (α hazzes β ∧ α izzes a particular) ⊃ (∃γ).(γ≠α ∧ α izzes β) ⊢ α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ ((β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α)  ⊢ α izzes essentially predicable of β ⊃⊂ β izzes α  ⊢ α izzes non-essentially/accidentally predicable of β ⊃⊂ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α)  ⊢ α = β ⊃⊂ α izzes β ∧ β izzes α  ⊢ α izzes an individuum ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(β izzes α ⊃ α izzes β)  ⊢ α izzes a particular ⊃⊂ □(∀β)(α izzes predicable of β ⊃ (α izzes β ∧ β izzes α)) 13. ⊢ α izzes a universalium ⊃⊂ ◊(∃β)(α izzes predicable of α ∧ ~(α izzes β ∧ β izzes α)  ⊢ α izzes some-thing ⊃ α izzes an individuum.  ⊢ α izzes a forma ⊃ (α izzes some-thing ∧ α izzes a universalium) 16. ⊢ α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ (β izzes α) ∨ (∃x)(β hazzes x ∧ x izzes α)  ⊢ α izzes essentially predicable of α  ⊢ α izzes accidentally predicable of β ⊃ α ≠ β 19. ⊢ ~(α izzes accidentally predicable of β) ⊃ α ≠ β 20. ⊢ α izzes a particular ⊃ α izzes an individuum. ⊢ α izzes a particular ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izzes α) 22. ⊢~ (∃x).(x izzes a particular ∧ x izzes a forma) 23. ⊢ α izzes a forma ⊃ ~(∃x)(x ≠ α ∧ x izzes α)  ⊢ x izzes a particular ⊃ ~(∃β)(α izz β)  ⊢ α izzes a forma ⊃ ((α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β) ⊃ β hazz α)  ⊢ α izzes a forma ∧ β izzes a particular ⊃ (α izzes predicable of β ⊃⊂ β hazz A)  ⊢ (α izzes a particular ∧ β izzes a universalium ∧ β izzes predicable of α) ⊃ (∃γ)(α ≠ γ ∧ γ izzes essentially predicable of α) ⊢ (∃x) (∃y)(x izzes a particular ∧ y izzes a universalium ∧ y izzes predicable of x ⊃ ~(∀x)(x izzes a universalium ∧ x izzes some-thing)  ⊢ (∀β)(β izzes a universalium ⊃ β izzes some-thing) ⊢ α izzes a particular) ⊃ ~∃β.(α ≠ β ∧ β izzes essentially predicable of α)  ⊢ (α izzes predicable of β ∧ α ≠ β)⊃ α izzes non-essentially or accidentally predicable of β. The use of this or that doxastic modality, necessity and possibility, starting above, make this a good place to consider one philosophical mistake Grice mentions in “Causal theory.” What is actual is not also possible. Cf. What is essential is also accidental. He is criticising a contemporary, if possible considered dated in the New World, form of ordinary-language philosophy, where the philosopher detects a nuance, and embarks risking colliding with the facts, rushing ahead to exploit it before he can clarify it! Grice liked to see his explorations on = as belonging to metaphysics, as the s.  on his Doctrines at the Grice Collection testifies. While Grice presupposes the use of = in his treatment of the king of France, he also explores a relativisation of =. His motivation was an essay by Wiggins, almost Aristotelian in spirit, against Strawsons criterion of space-time continuancy for the identification of the substantia prima. Grice wants to apply = to cases were the time continuancy is made explicit. This yields that a=b in scenario S, but that it may not be the case that a = b in a second scenario S. Myro had an occasion to expand on Grices views in his contribution on the topic for PGRICE. Myro mentions his System Ghp, a highly powerful/hopefully plausible version of Grices System Q, in gratitude to to Grice. Grice explored also the logic of izzing and hazzing with Code. Grice and Myro developed a Geach-type of qualified identity. The formal aspects were developed by Myro, and also by Code. Grice discussed Wigginss Sameness and substance, rather than Geach. Cf. Wiggins and Strawson on Grice for the BA. At Oxford, Grice was more or less given free rein to teach what he wanted. He found the New World slightly disconcerting at first. At Oxford, he expected his tutees to be willing to read the classics in the vernacular Greek. His approach to teaching was diagogic, as Socratess! Even in his details of izzing and hazzing. Greek enough to me!, as a student recalled! correspondence with Code, Grice sees in Code an excellent Aristotelian. They collaborated on an exploration of Aristotles underlying logic of essential and non-essential predication, for which they would freely use such verbal forms as izzing and hazing, izzing and hazzing, Code on the significance of the middle book in Aristotles Met. , Aristotle, metaphysics, the middle book. Very middle. Grice never knew what was middle for Aristotle, but admired Code too much to air this! The organisation of Aristotle’s metaphysics was a topic of much concern for Grice. With Code, Grice coined izzing and hazzing to refer to essential and non-essential attribution. Izzing and hazzing, “Aristotle on the multiplicity of being” (henceforth, “Aristotle”) PPQ, Aristotle on multiplicity, “The Pacific Philosophical Quarterly” (henceforth, “PPQ,” posthumously ed. by Loar, Aristotle, multiplicity, izzing, hazzing, being, good, Code. Grice offers a thorough discussion of Owens treatment of Aristotle as leading us to the snares of ontology. Grice distinguishes between izzing and hazzing, which he thinks help in clarifying, more axiomatico, what Aristotle is getting at with his remarks on essential versus non-essential predication. Surely, for Grice, being, nor indeed good, should not be multiplied beyond necessity, but izzing and hazzing are already multiplied. The Grice Papers contains drafts of the essay eventually submitted for publication by Loar in memoriam Grice. Note that the Grice Papers contains a typically Griceian un-publication, entitled Aristotle and multiplicity simpliciter. Rather than Aristotle on, as the title for the PPQ piece goes. Note also that, since its multiplicity simpliciter, it refers to Aristotle on two key ideas: being and the good. As Code notes in his contribution to PGRICE, Grice first presents his thoughts on izzing and hazzing publicly at Vancouver. Jones has developed the axiomatic treatment favoured by Grice. For Grice there is multiplicity in both being and good (ton agathon), both accountable in terms of conversational implicata, of course. If in Prolegomena, Grice was interested in criticising himself, in essays of historical nature like these, Grice is seeing Aristotles Athenian dialectic as a foreshadow of the Oxonian dialectic, and treating him as an equal. Grice is yielding his razor: senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. But then Aristotle is talking about the multiplicity of is and is good. Surely, there are ways to turn Aristotle into the monoguist he has to be! There is a further item in the Grice collection that combines Aristotle on being with Aristotle on good, which is relevant in connection with this. Aristotle on being and good (ἀγαθόν). Aristotle, being, good (agathon), ἀγαθός. As from this f., the essays are ordered alphabetically, starting with Aristotle, Grice will explore Aristotle on being or is and good (ἀγαθός) in explorations with Code. Grice comes up with izzing and hazzing as the two counterparts to Aristotles views on, respectively, essential and non-essential predication. Grices views on Aristotle on the good (strictly, there is no need to restrict Arisstotles use to the neuter form, since he employs ἀγαθός) connect with Grices Aristotelian idea of eudaemonia, that he explores elsewhere. Strictly: Aristotle on being and the good. If that had been Grices case, he would have used the definite article. Otherwise, good may well translate as masculine, ἀγαθός ‒the agathetic implicatum.  He plays with Dodgson, cabbages and kings. For what is a good cabbage as opposed to a cabbage? It does not require very sharp eyes, but only our willingness to use the eyes one has, to see that speech is permeated with the notion of purpose. To say what a certain kind of thing is is only too frequently partly to say that it is for. This feature applies to talk of, e. g., ships, shoes, sailing wax, and kings; and, possibly and perhaps most excitingly, it extends even to cabbages! Although Grice suspects Urmson might disagree. v. Grice on Urmsons apples. Grice at his jocular best. If he is going to be a Kantian, he will. He uses Kantian jargon to present his theory of conversation. This he does only at Harvard. The implicature being that talking of vaguer assumptions of helpfulness would not sound too convincing. So he has the maxim, the super-maxim, and the sub-maxim. A principle and a maxim is Kantian enough. But when he actually echoes Kant, is when he introduces what he later calls the conversational categories – the keyword here is conversational category, as categoria is used by Aristotle and Kant  ‒ or Kantotle. Grice surely knew that, say, his Category of Conversational Modality had nothing to do with the Kantian Category of Modality. Still, he stuck with the idea of four categories (versus Aristotles ten, eight or seven, as the text you consult may tell you): category of conversational quantity (which at Oxford he had formulated in much vaguer terms like strength and informativeness and entailment), the category of conversational quality (keyword: principle of conversational trust), and the category of conversational relation, where again Kants relation has nothing to do with the maxim Grice associates with this category. In any case, his Kantian joke may be helpful when considering the centrality of the concept category simpliciter that Grice had to fight with with his pupils at Oxford – he was lucky to have Austin and Strawson as co-lecturers! Grice was irritated by L and S defining kategoria as category. I guess I knew that. He agreed with their second shot, predicable. Ultimately, Grices concern with category is his concern with person, or prote ousia, as used by Aristotle, and as giving a rationale to Grices agency-based approach to the philosophical enterprise. Aristotle used kategorein in the sense of to predicate, assert something of something, and kategoria. The prote ousia is exemplified by o tis anthropos. It is obvious that Grice wants to approach Aristotles semantics and Aristotles metaphysics at one fell swoop. Grice reads Aristotles Met. , and finds it understandable. Consider the adjective French (which Aristotle does NOT consider) ‒ as it occurs in phrases such as Michel Foucault is a French citizen.  Grice is not a French citizen. Michel Foucault once wrote a nice French poem.  Urmson once wrote a nice French essay on pragmatics. Michel Foucault was a French professor.  Michel Foucault is a French professor.  Michel Foucault is a French professor of philosophy. The following features are perhaps significant. The appearance of the adjective French, or Byzantine, as the case might be ‒ cf. I’m feeling French tonight. In these phrases is what Grice has as adjunctive rather than conjunctive, or attributive. A French poem is not necessarily something which combines the separate features of being a poem and being French, as a tall philosopher would simply combine the features of being tall and of being a philosopher. French in French poem, occurs adverbially. French citizen standardly means citizen of France. French poem standardly means poem in French. But it is a mistake to suppose that this fact implies that there is this or that meaning, or, worse, this or that Fregeian sense, of the expression French.  In any case, only metaphorically or metabolically can we say that French means this or that or has sense. An utterer means. An utterer makes sense. Cf. R. Pauls doubts about capitalizing major. French means, and figuratively at that, only one thing, viz. of or pertaining to France. And English only means of or pertaining to England.  French may be what Grice (unfollowing his remarks on The general theory of context) call context-sensitive. One might indeed say, if you like, that while French means ‒ or means only this or that, or that its only sense is this or that, French still means, again figuratively, a variety of things. French means-in-context of or pertaining to France. Symbolise that as expression E means-in-context that p. Expression E means-in-context C₂ that p₂. Relative to Context C₁ French means of France; as in the phrase French citizen. Relative to context C₂, French means  in the French language, as in the phrase, French poem ‒ whereas history does not behave, like this. Whether the focal item is a universal or a particular is, contra Aristotle, quite irrelevant to the question of what this or that related adjective means, or what its sense is. The medical art is no more what an utterer means when he utters the adjective medical, as is France what an utterer means by the adjective French. While the attachment of this or that context may suggest an interpretation in context of this or that expression as uttered by the utterer U, it need not be the case that such a suggestion is indefeasible. It might be e.g. that French poem would have to mean, poem composed in French, unless there were counter indications, that brings the utterer and the addressee to a different context C₃. In which case, perhaps what the utterer means by French poem is poem composed by a French competitor in this or that competition. For French professor there would be two obvious things an utterer might mean. Disambiguation will depend on the wider  expression-context  or in the situational context attaching to the this or that circumstance of utterance. Eschatology. Some like Hegel, but Collingwoods *my* man!  ‒ Grice. Grice participated in two consecutive evenings of the s. of programmes on metaphysics organised by Pears. Actually, charming Pears felt pretentious enough to label the meetings to be about the nature of metaphysics! Grice ends up discussing, as he should, Collingwood on presupposition. Met.  remained a favourite topic for Grices philosophical explorations, as it is evident from his essay on Met. , Philosophical Eschatology, and Platos Republic, repr. in his WOW . Possibly Hardie is to blame, since he hardly tutored Grice on metaphysics! Grices two BBC lectures are typically dated in tone. It was the (good ole) days when philosophers thought they could educate the non-elite by dropping Namess like Collingwood and stuff! The Third Programme was extremely popular, especially among the uneducated ones at London, as Pears almost put it, as it was a way for Londoners to get to know what is going on down at Oxford, the only place an uneducated (or educated, for that matter) Londoner at the time was interested in displaying some interest about! I mean, Johnson is right: if a man is tired of the nature of metaphysics, he is tired of life! Since the authorship is Grice, Strawson, and Pears, Met. , in Pears, The Nature of Met., The BBC Third Programme, it is somewhat difficult to identify what paragraphs were actually read by Grice (and which ones by Pears and which ones by Strawson). But trust the sharp Griceian to detect the correct implicature! There are many (too many) other items covered by these two lectures: Kant, Aristotle, in no particular order. And in The Grice Collection, for that matter, that cover the field of metaphysics. In the New World, as a sort of tutor in the graduate programme, Grice was expected to cover the discipline at various seminars. Only I dislike discipline! Perhaps his clearest exposition is in the opening section of his Met. , philosophical eschatology, and Platos Republic, repr. in his WOW , where he states, bluntly that all you need is  metaphysics! metaphysics, Miscellaneous, metaphysics notes, Grice would possible see metaphysics as a class – category figuring large. He was concerned with the methodological aspects of the metaphysical enterprise, since he was enough of a relativist to allow for one metaphysical scheme to apply to one area of discourse (one of Eddingtons tables) and another metaphysical scheme to apply to another (Eddingtons other table). In the third programme for the BBC Grice especially enjoyed criticising John Wisdoms innovative look at metaphysics as a bunch of self-evident falsehoods (Were all alone). Grice focuses on Wisdom on the knowledge of other minds. He also discusses Collingwoods presuppositions, and Bradley on the reality-appearance distinction. Grices reference to Wisdom was due to Ewings treatment of Wisdom on metaphysics. Grices main motivation here is defending metaphysics against Ayer. Ayer thought to win more Oxonian philosophers than he did at Oxford, but he was soon back in London. Post-war Oxford had become conservative and would not stand to the nonsense of Ayers claiming that metaphysics is nonsense, especially, as Ayers implicature also was, that philosophy is nonsense! Perhaps the best summary of Griceian metaphysics is his From Genesis to Revelations: a new discourse on metaphysics. It’s an ontological answer that one must give to Grices metabolic operation from utterers meaning to expression meaning, Grice had been interested in the methodology of metaphysics since his Oxford days. He counts as one memorable experience in the area his participation in two episodes for the BBC Third Programme on The nature of metaphysics with the organiser, Pears, and his former tutee, Strawson on the panel. Grice was particularly keen on Collingwoods views on metaphysical presuppositions, both absolute and relative! Grice also considers John Wisdoms view of the metaphysical proposition as a blatant falsehood. Grice considers Bradleys Hegelian metaphysics of the absolute, in Appearance and reality. Refs.: While Grice’s choice was ‘eschatology,’ as per WoW, Essay, other keywords are useful, notably “metaphysics,” “ontology,” “theorizing,” and “theory-theory,” in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

explanation: Unlike Austin, who was in love with a taxonomy, Grice loved an explanation. “Ἀρχὴν δὲ τῶν πάντων ὕδωρ ὑπεστήσατο, καὶ τὸν κόσμον ἔμψυχον καὶ δαιμόνων πλήρη. “Arkhen de ton panton hudor hupestesato.” Thales’s doctrine is that water is the universal primary substance, and that the world is animate and full of divinities. “Ἀλλὰ Θαλῆς μὲν ὁ τῆς τοιαύτης ἀρχηγὸς φιλοσοφίας ὕδωρ φησὶν εἶναι (διὸ καὶ τὴν γῆν ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος ἀπεφήνατο εἶναι), λαβὼν ἴσως τὴν ὑπόληψιν ταύτην ἐκ τοῦ πάντων ὁρᾶν τὴν τροφὴν ὑγρὰν οὖσαν καὶ αὐτὸ τὸ θερμὸν ἐκ τούτου γιγνόμενον καὶ τούτῳ ζῶν (τὸ δ᾽ ἐξ οὗ γίγνεται, τοῦτ᾽ ἐστὶν ἀρχὴ πάντων) – διά τε δὴ τοῦτο τὴν ὑπόληψιν λαβὼν ταύτην καὶ διὰ τὸ πάντων τὰ σπέρματα τὴν φύσιν ὑγρὰν ἔχειν, τὸ δ᾽ ὕδωρ ἀρχὴν τῆς φύσεως εἶναι τοῖς ὑγροῖς. εἰσὶ δέ τινες οἳ καὶ τοὺς παμπαλαίους καὶ πολὺ πρὸ τῆς νῦν γενέσεως καὶ πρώτους θεολογήσαντας οὕτως οἴονται περὶ τῆς φύσεως ὑπολαβεῖν‧ Ὠκεανόν τε γὰρ καὶ Τηθὺν ἐποίησαν τῆς γενέσεως πατέρας [Hom. Ξ 201], καὶ τὸν ὅρκον τῶν θεῶν ὕδωρ, τὴν καλουμένην ὑπ᾽ αὐτῶν Στύγα τῶν ποιητῶν‧ τιμιώτατον μὲν γὰρ τὸ πρεσβύτατον, ὅρκος δὲ τὸ τιμιώτατόν ἐστιν. εἰ μὲν οὖν [984a] ἀρχαία τις αὕτη καὶ παλαιὰ τετύχηκεν οὖσα περὶ τῆς φύσεως ἡ δόξα, τάχ᾽ ἂν ἄδηλον εἴη, Θαλῆς μέντοι λέγεται οὕτως ἀποφήνασθαι περὶ τῆς πρώτης αἰτίας. (Ἵππωνα γὰρ οὐκ ἄν τις ἀξιώσειε θεῖναι μετὰ τούτων διὰ τὴν εὐτέλειαν αὐτοῦ τῆς διανοίας)‧ Ἀναξιμένης δὲ ἀέρα καὶ Διογένης πρότερον ὕδατος καὶ μάλιστ᾽ ἀρχὴν τιθέασι τῶν ἁπλῶν σωμάτων.” De caelo: “Οἱ δ᾽ ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος κεῖσθαι [sc. τὴν γὴν]. τοῦτον γὰρ ἀρχαιότατον παρειλήφαμεν τὸν λόγον, ὅν φασιν εἰπεῖν Θαλῆν τὸν Μιλήσιον, ὡς διὰ τὸ πλωτὴν εἶναι μένουσαν ὥσπερ ξύλον ἤ τι τοιοῦτον ἕτερον (καὶ γὰρ τούτων ἐπ᾽ ἀέρος μὲν οὐθὲν πέφυκε μένειν, ἀλλ᾽ ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος), ὥσπερ οὐ τὸν αὐτὸν λόγον ὄντα περὶ τῆς γῆς καὶ τοῦ ὕδατος τοῦ ὀχοῦντος τὴν γῆν‧ οὐδὲ γὰρ τὸ ὕδωρ πέφυκε μένειν μετέωρον, ἀλλ᾽ ἐπί τινός [294b] ἐστιν. ἔτι δ᾽ ὥσπερ ἀὴρ ὕδατος κουφότερον, καὶ γῆς ὕδωρ‧ ὥστε πῶς οἷόν τε τὸ κουφότερον κατωτέρω κεῖσθαι τοῦ βαρυτέρου τὴν φύσιν; ἔτι δ᾽ εἴπερ ὅλη πέφυκε μένειν ἐφ᾽ ὕδατος, δῆλον ὅτι καὶ τῶν μορίων ἕκαστον [αὐτῆς]‧ νῦν δ᾽ οὐ φαίνεται τοῦτο γιγνόμενον, ἀλλὰ τὸ τυχὸν μόριον φέρεται εἰς βυθόν, καὶ θᾶττον τὸ μεῖζον. The problem of the nature of matter, and its transformation into the myriad things of which the universe is made, engaged the natural philosophers, commencing with Thales. For his hypothesis to be credible, it was essential that he could explain how all things could come into being from water, and return ultimately to the originating material. It is inherent in Thaless hypotheses that water had the potentiality to change to the myriad things of which the universe is made, the botanical, physiological, meteorological and geological states. In Timaeus, 49B-C, Plato had Timaeus relate a cyclic process. The passage commences with that which we now call “water” and describes a theory which was possibly that of Thales. Thales would have recognized evaporation, and have been familiar with traditional views, such as the nutritive capacity of mist and ancient theories about spontaneous generation, phenomena which he may have observed, just as Aristotle believed he, himself had, and about which Diodorus Siculus, Epicurus (ap. Censorinus, D.N. IV.9), Lucretius (De Rerum Natura) and Ovid (Met. I.416-437) wrote. When Aristotle reported Thales’s pronouncement that the primary principle is water, he made a precise statement: Thales says that it [the nature of things] is water, but he became tentative when he proposed reasons which might have justified Thaless decision. Thales’s supposition may have arisen from observation. It is Aristotle’s opinion that Thales may have observed, that the nurture of all creatures is moist, and that warmth itself is generated from moisture and lives by it; and that from which all things come to be is their first principle. Then, Aristotles tone changed towards greater confidence. He declared: Besides this, another reason for the supposition would be that the semina of all things have a moist nature. In continuing the criticism of Thales, Aristotle wrote: That from which all things come to be is their first principle (Metaph. 983 b25).  Simple metallurgy had been practised long before Thales presented his hypotheses, so Thales knew that heat could return metals to a liquid state. Water exhibits sensible changes more obviously than any of the other so-called elements, and can readily be observed in the three states of liquid, vapour and ice. The understanding that water could generate into earth is basic to Thaless watery thesis. At Miletus it could readily be observed that water had the capacity to thicken into earth. Miletus stood on the Gulf of Lade through which the Maeander river emptied its waters. Within living memory, older Milesians had witnessed the island of Lade increasing in size within the Gulf, and the river banks encroaching into the river to such an extent that at Priene, across the gulf from Miletus the warehouses had to be rebuilt closer to the waters edge. The ruins of the once prosperous city-port of Miletus are now ten kilometres distant from the coast and the Island of Lade now forms part of a rich agricultural plain. There would have been opportunity to observe other areas where earth generated from water, for example, the deltas of the Halys, the Ister, about which Hesiod wrote (Theogony, 341), now called the Danube, the Tigris-Euphrates, and almost certainly the Nile. This coming-into-being of land would have provided substantiation of Thaless doctrine. To Thales water held the potentialities for the nourishment and generation of the entire cosmos. Aëtius attributed to Thales the concept that even the very fire of the sun and the stars, and indeed the cosmos itself is nourished by evaporation of the waters (Aëtius, Placita).  It is not known how Thales explained his watery thesis, but Aristotle believed that the reasons he proposed were probably the persuasive factors in Thaless considerations. Thales gave no role to the Olympian gods. Belief in generation of earth from water was not proven to be wrong until A.D. 1769 following experiments of Antoine Lavoisier, and spontaneous generation was not disproved until the nineteenth century as a result of the work of Louis Pasteur.The first philosophical explanation of the world was speculative not practical. has its intelligibility in being identified with one of its parts (the world is water). First philosophical explanation for Universe human is rational and the world in independent; He said the arché is water; Monist: He believed reality is one  Thales of Miletus, first philosophical explanation of the origin and nature of justice (and  Why after all, did a Thales  is Water.” Without the millions of species that make up the biosphere, and the billions of interactions between them that go on day by day,.Oddly, Grice had spent some time on x-questions in the Kant lectures. And why is an x-question. A philosophical explanation of conversation. A philosophical explanation of implicature. Description vs. explanation. Grice quotes from Fisher, Never contradict. Never explain. Taxonomy, is worse than explanation, always. Grice is exploring the taxonomy-description vs. explanation dichotomy. He would often criticise ordinary-language philosopher Austin for spending too much valuable time on linguistic botany, without an aim in his head. Instead, his inclination, a dissenting one, is to look for the big picture of it all, and disregard a piece-meal analysis. Conversation is a good example. While Austin would Subjectsify Language (Linguistic Nature), Grice rather places rationality squarely on the behaviour displayed by utterers as they make conversational moves that their addressees will judge as rational along specific lines. Observation of the principle of conversational helpfulness is rational (reasonable) along the following lines: anyone who cares about the two goals which are central to conversation, viz. giving and receiving information, and influencing and being influenced by others, is expected to have an interest in taking part in a conversation which will only be profitable (if not possible) under the assumption that it is conducted along the lines of the principle of conversational helpfulness. Grice is not interested in conversation per se, but as a basis for a theory that explains the mistakes ordinary-language philosophers are making. The case of What is known to be the case is not believed to be the case. Refs.: One good source is the “Prejudices and predilections.” Also the first set of ‘Logic and conversation.” There is also an essay on the ‘that’ versus the ‘why.’ The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

freedom: Grice was especially concerned with Kants having brought back the old Greek idea of eleutheria for philosophical discussion. Refs.: the obvious keywords are “freedom” and “free,” but most of the material is in “Actions and events,” in PPQ, and below under ‘kantianism’ – The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

grammar: while philosophers would use grammar jocularly, Chomsky didnt. The problem, as Grice notes, is that Chomsky never tells us where grammar ends (“or begins for that matter.”) “Consider the P, karulising elatically.” When Carnap introduces the P, he talks syntax, not grammar. But philosophers always took semiotics more seriously than others. So Carnap is well aware of Morriss triad of the syntactics, the semantics, and the pragmatics. Philosophers always disliked grammar, because back in the days of Aelfric, philosophia was supposed to embrace dialectica and grammatica, and rhetorica. “It is all part of philosophy.” Truth-conditional semantics and implicata. Refs.: One source is an essay on ‘grammar’ in the H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

grecianism: why was Grice obsessed with Socrates’s convesations? He does not say. But he implicates it. For the Athenian dialecticians, it is all a matter of ta legomena. Ditto for the Oxonian dialecticians. Ta legomena becomes ordinary language. And the task of the philosopher is to provide reductive analysis of this or that concept in terms of necessary and sufficient conditions. Cf. Hospers. Grices review of the history of philosophy (Philosophy is but footnotes to Zeno.). Grice enjoyed Zenos answer, What is a friend? Alter ego, Allego. ("Only it was the other Zeno." Grice tried to apply the Socratic method during his tutorials. "Nothing like a heartfelt dedication to the Socratic art of mid-wifery, seeking to bring forth error and to strangle it at birth.” μαιεύομαι (A.“μαῖα”), ‘to serve as a midwife, act a; “ἡ Ἄρτεμις μ.” Luc. D Deor.26.2. 2. cause delivery to take place, “ἱκανὴ ἔκπληξις μαιεύσασθαι πρὸ τῆς ὥρας” Philostr. VA1.5. 3. c. acc., bring to the birth, Marin.Procl.6; ὄρνιθας μ. hatch chickens, Anon. ap. Suid.; αἰετὸν κάνθαρος μαιεύσομαι, prov. of taking vengeance on a powerful enemy, Ar. Lys.695 (cf. Sch.). 4. deliver a woman, esp. metaph. in Pl. of the Socratic method, Tht. 149b. II. Act., Poll. 4.208, Sch. OH.4.506. Pass., τὰ ὑπ᾽ ἐμοῦ μαιευθέντα brought into the world by me, Pl. Tht. 150e, cf. Philostr.VA5.13. Refs.: the obvious references are Grice’s allusions to Aristotle, Plato, Socrates, Zeno, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

heterological: 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.

ideationalism. Alston calls Grice an ideationalist, and Grice takes it as a term of abuse. Grice would occasionally use ‘mental.’ Short and Lewis have "mens.” “terra corpus est, at mentis ignis est;” so too, “istic est de sole sumptus; isque totus mentis est;”  f. from the root ‘men,’ whence ‘memini,’  and ‘comminiscor.’ Lewis and Short render ‘mens’ as ‘the mind, disposition; the heart, soul.’ Lewis and Short have ‘commĭniscor,’ originally conminiscor ), mentus, from ‘miniscor,’ whence also ‘reminiscor,’ stem ‘men,’ whence ‘mens’ and ‘memini,’  cf. Varro, Lingua Latina 6, § 44. Lewis and Short render the verb as, literally, ‘to ponder carefully, to reflect upon;’ ‘hence, as a result of reflection; cf. 1. commentor, II.), to devise something by careful thought, to contrive, invent, feign. Myro is perhaps unaware of the implicata of ‘mental’ when he qualifies his -ism with ‘modest.’ Grice would seldom use mind (Grecian nous) or mental (Grecian noetikos vs. æsthetikos). His sympathies go for more over-arching Grecian terms like the very Aristotelian soul, the anima, i. e. the psyche and the psychological. Grice discusses G. Myro’s essay, ‘In defence of a modal mentalism,’ with attending commentary by R. Albritton and S. Cavell. Grice himself would hardly use mental, mentalist, or mentalism himself, but perhaps psychologism. Grice would use mental, on occasion, but his Grecianism was deeply rooted, unlike Myro’s. At Clifton and under Hardie (let us recall he came up to Oxford under a classics scholarship to enrol in the Lit. Hum.) he knows that mental translates mentalis translates nous, only ONE part, one third, actually, of the soul, and even then it may not include the ‘practical rational’ one! Cf. below on ‘telementational.’ Refs.: The reference to mentalism in the essay on ‘modest mentalism,’ after Myro, in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

identity: identity was a key concept for Grice. Under identity, he views both identity simpliciter and personal identity. Grice advocates psychological or soul criterianism. Psychological or soul criterianism has been advocated, in one form or another, by philosophers such as Locke, Butler, Duncan-Jones, Berkeley, Gallie, Grice, Flew, Haugeland, Jones, Perry, Shoemaker and Parfit, and Quinton. What all of these theories have in common is the idea that, even if it is the case that some kind of physical states are necessary for being a person, it is the unity of consciousness which is of decisive importance for personal identity over time. In this sense, person is a term which picks out a psychological, or mental, "thing". In claiming this, all Psychological Criterianists entail the view that personal identity consists in the continuity of psychological features. It is interesting that Flew has an earlier "Selves," earlier than his essay on Locke on personal identity. The first, for Mind, criticising Jones, "The self in sensory cognition"; the second for Philosophy. Surely under the tutelage of Grice. Cf. Jones, Selves: A reply to Flew, Philosophy.  The stronger thesis asserts that there is no conceivable situation in which bodily identity would be necessary, some other conditions being always both necessary and sufficient. Grice takes it that Locke’s theory (II, 27) is an example of this latter type. To say "Grice remembers that he heard a noise", without irony or inverted commas, is to imply that Grice did hear a noise. In this respect remember is like, know, a factive. It does not follow from this, nor is it true, that each claim to remember, any more than each claim to know, is alethic or veridical; or, not everything one seems to remember is something one really remembers. So much is obvious, although Locke -- although admittedly referring only to the memory of actions, section 13 -- is forced to invoke the providence of God to deny the latter. These points have been emphasised by Flew in his discussion of Locke’s views on personal identity. In formulating Locke’ thesis, however, Flew makes a mistake; for he offers Lockes thesis in the form if Grice can remember Hardies doing such-and-such, Grice and Hardie are the same person. But this obviously will not do, even for Locke, for we constantly say things like I remember my brother Derek joining the army without implying that I and my brother are the same person. So if we are to formulate such a criterion, it looks as though we have to say something like the following. If Derek Grice remembers joining my, he is the person who did that thing. But since remembers doing means remembers himself doing, this is trivially tautologous, and moreover lends colour to Butlers famous objection that memory, so far from constituting personal identity, presupposes it.  As Butler puts it, one should really think it self-evident that consciousness of personal identity presupposes, and therefore cannot constitute, personal identity; any more than knowledge, in any other case, can constitute truth, which it presupposes. Butler then asserts that Locke’s misstep stems from his methodology. This wonderful mistake may possibly have arisen from hence; that to be endued with consciousness is inseparable from the idea of a person, or intelligent being. For this might be expressed inaccurately thus, that consciousness makes personality: and from hence it might be concluded to make personal identity. One of the points that Locke emphasizes—that persistence conditions are determined via defining kind terms—is what, according to Butler, leads Locke astray.  Butler additionally makes the point that memory is not required for personal persistence. But though present consciousness of what we at present do and feel is necessary to our being the persons we now are; yet present consciousness of past actions or feelings is not necessary to our being the same persons who performed those actions, or had those feelings. This is a point that others develop when they assert that Lockes view results in contradiction. Hence the criterion should rather run as follows. If Derek Grice claims to remember joining the army. We must then ask how such a criterion might be used.  Grices example is: I remember I smelled a smell. He needs two experiences to use same. I heard a noise and I smelled a smell.The singular defines the hearing of a noise is the object of some consciousness. The pair defines, "The hearing of a noise and the smelling of a smell are objects of the same -- cognate with self as in I hurt me self, -- consciousness. The standard form of an identity question is Is this x the same x as that x which E and in the simpler situation we are at least presented with just the materials for constructing such a question; but in the more complicated situation we are baffled even in asking the question, since both the transformed persons are equally good candidates for being its Subjects, and the question Are these two xs the same (x?) as the x which E is not a recognizable form of identity question. Thus, it might be argued, the fact that we could not speak of identity in the latter situation is no kind of proof that we could not do so in the former. Certainly it is not a proof, as Strawson points out to Grice. This is not to say that they are identical at all. The only case in which identity and exact similarity could be distinguished, as we have just seen, is that of the body, same body and exactly similar body really do mark a difference. Thus one may claim that the omission of the body takes away all content from the idea of personal identity, as Pears pointed out to Grice. Leaving aside memory, which only partially applies to the case, character and attainments are quite clearly general things. Joness character is, in a sense, a particular; just because Jones’s character refers to the instantiation of certain properties by a particular (and bodily) man, as Strawson points out to Grice (Particular and general). If in ‘Negation and privation,’ Grice tackles Aristotle, he now tackles Locke. Indeed, seeing that Grice went years later to the topic as motivated by, of all people, Haugeland, rather than perhaps the more academic milieu that Perry offers, Grice became obsessed with Hume’s sceptical doubts! Hume writes in the Appendix that when he turns his reflection on himself, Hume never can perceive this self without some one or more perceptions. Nor can Hume ever perceive any thing but the perceptions. It is the composition of these, therefore, which forms the self, Hume thinks. Hume grants that one can conceive a thinking being to have either many or few perceptions. Suppose, says Hume, the mind to be reduced even below the life of an oyster. Suppose the oyster to have only one perception, as of thirst or hunger. Consider the oyster in that situation. Does the oyster conceive any thing but merely that perception? Has the oyster any notion of, to use Gallies pretentious Aristotelian jargon, self or substance? If not, the addition of this or other perception can never give the oyster that notion. The annihilation, which this or that philosopher, including Grices first post-war tutee, Flew, supposes to  follow upon death, and which entirely destroys  the oysters self, is nothing but an extinction  of all particular perceptions; love and hatred,  pain and pleasure, thought and sensation. These therefore must be the same with self; since the one cannot survive the other. Is self the same with substance? If it be, how can that question have place, concerning the subsistence of self, under a change of substance? If they be distinct, what is the difference betwixt them? For his part, Hume claims, he has a notion of neither, when conceived distinct from this or that particular perception. However extraordinary Hume’s conclusion may seem,   it need not surprise us. Most philosophers, such as Locke, seems inclined to think, that personal identity arises from consciousness. But consciousness is nothing but a reflected thought or perception, Hume suggests. This is Grices quandary about personal identity and its implicata. Some philosophers have taken Grice as trying to provide an exegesis of Locke. However, their approaches surely differ. What works for Grice may not work for Locke. For Grice it is analytically true that it is not the case that Person₁ and Person may have the same experience. Grice explicitly states that he thinks that his logical-construction theory is a modification of Locke’s theory. Grice does not seem terribly interested to find why it may not, even if the York-based Locke Society might! Rather than introjecting into Lockes shoes, Grices strategy seems to dismiss Locke, shoes and all. Specifically, it not clear to Grice what Lockes answer in the Essay would be to Grices question about this or that I utterance that he sets his analysis with. Admittedly, Grice does quote, albeit briefly, directly from Lockes Essay. As far as any intelligent being can repeat the idea of any past action with the same consciousness it had of it at first, and with the same consciousness it has of any present action, Locke claims, so far the being is the same personal self. Grice tackles Lockes claim with four objections. These are important to consider since Grice sees as improving on Locke. A first objection concerns icircularity, with which Grice easily disposes by following Hume and appealing to the experience of memory or introspection. A second objection is Reid’s alleged counterexample about the long-term memory of the admiral who cannot remember that he was flogged as a boy. Grice dismisses this as involving too long-term of a memory. A third objection concerns Locke’s vagueness about the aboutness of consciousness, a point made by Hume in the Appendix. A fourth objection concerns again circularity, this time in Locke’s use of same in the definiens ‒ cf. Wiggins, Sameness and substance. It’s extraordinary that Wiggins is philosophising on anything Griceian. Grice is concerned with the implicatum involved in the use of the first person singular. I will be fighting soon. Grice means in body and soul. The utterance also indicates that this is Grices pre-war days at Oxford. No wonder his choice of an example. What else could he have in his soul? The topic of personal identity, which label Hume and Austin found pretentious, and preferred to talk about the illocutionary force of I, has a special Oxonian pedigree, perhaps as motivated by Humes challenge, that Grice has occasion to study and explore for his M. A. Lit. Hum. with Locke’s Essay as mandatory reading. Locke, a philosopher with whom Oxford identifies most, infamously defends this memory-based account of I. Up in Scotland, Reid reads it and concocts this alleged counter-example. Hume, or Home, if you must, enjoys it. In fact, while in the Mind essay he is not too specific about Hume, Grice will, due mainly to his joint investigations with Haugeland, approach, introjecting into the shoes of Hume ‒ who is idolised in The New World ‒ in ways he does not introject into Lockes. But Grices quandary is Hume’s quandary, too. In his own approach to I, the Cartesian ego, made transcendental and apperceptive by Kant, Grice updates the time-honoured empiricist mnemonic analysis by Locke. The first update is in style. Grice embraces, as he does with negation, a logical construction, alla Russell, via Broad, of this or that “I” (first-person) utterance, ending up with an analysis of a “someone,” third-person, less informative, utterance. Grices immediate source is Gallie’s essay on self and substance in Mind. Mind is still a review of psychology and philosophy, so poor Grice has not much choice. In fact, Grice is being heterodoxical or heretic enough to use Broad’s taxonomy, straight from the other place of I utterances. The logical-construction theory is a third proposal, next to the Bradleyian idealist pure-ego theory and the misleading covert-description theory. Grice deals with the Reids alleged counterexample of the brave officer. Suppose, Reid says, and Grice quotes verbatim, a brave officer to have been flogged when a boy at school, for robbing an orchard, to have taken a standard from the enemy in his first campaign, and to have been made a general in advanced life. Suppose also, which must be admitted to be possible, that when he₂ took the standard, he₂ was conscious of his having been flogged at school, and that, when made a general, he₃ was conscious of his₂ taking the standard, but had absolutely lost the consciousness of his1 flogging. These things being supposed, it follows, from Lockes doctrine, that he1 who is flogged at school is the same person as him₂ who later takes the standard, and that he₂ who later takes the standard is the same person as him₃ who is still later made a general. When it follows, if there be any truth in logic, that the general is the same person with him₁ who is flogged at school. But the general’s consciousness does emphatically not reach so far back as his1 flogging. Therefore, according to Locke’s doctrine, he₃ is emphatically not the same person as him1 who is flogged. Therefore, we can say about the general that he₃ is, and at the same time, that he₃ is not the same person as him₁ who was flogged at school. Grice, wholl later add a temporal suffix to =t yielding, by transitivity. The flogged boy =_t1 the brave officer. And the brave officer =_t2 the admiral. But the admiral ≠_t3 the flogged boy. In Mind, Grice tackles the basic analysans, and comes up with a rather elaborate analysans for a simple I or Someone statement. Grice just turns to a generic affirmative variant of the utterance he had used in Negation. It is now someone, viz. I, who hears that the bell tolls. It is the affirmative counterpart of the focus of his earlier essay on negation, I do not hear that the bell tolls. Grice dismisses what, in the other place, was referred to as privileged-access, and the indexicality of I, an approach that will be made popular by Perry, who however reprints Grices essay in his influential collection for the University of California Press. By allowing for someone, viz. I, Grice seems to be relying on a piece of reasoning which hell later, in his first Locke lecture, refer to as too good. I hear that the bell tolls; therefore, someone hears that the bell tolls. Grice attempts to reduce this or that I utterance (Someone, viz. I, hears that the bell tolls) is in terms of a chain or sequence of mnemonic states. It poses a few quandaries itself. While quoting from this or that recent philosopher such as Gallie and Broad, it is a good thing that Grice has occasion to go back to, or revisit, Locke and contest this or that infamous and alleged counterexample presented by Reid and Hume. Grice adds a methodological note to his proposed logical-construction theory of personal identity. There is some intricacy of his reductive analysis, indeed logical construction, for an apparently simple and harmless utterance (cf. his earlier essay on I do not hear that the bell tolls). But this intricacy does not prove the analysis wrong. Only that Grice is too subtle. If the reductive analysis of not is in terms of each state which I am experiencing is incompatible with phi), that should not be a minus, or drawback, but a plus, and an advantage in terms of philosophical progress. The same holds here in terms of the concept of a temporary state. Much later, Grice reconsiders, or revisits, indeed, Broads remark and re-titles his approach as the (or a) logical-construction theory of personal identity. And, with Haugeland, Grice re-considers Humes own vagaries, or quandary, with personal identity. Unlike the more conservative Locke that Grice favours in the pages of Mind, eliminationist Hume sees ‘I’ as a conceptual muddle, indeed a metaphysical chimæra. Hume presses the point for an empiricist verificationist account of I. For, as Russell would rhetorically ask, ‘What can be more direct that the experience of myself?’ The Hume Society should take notice of Grices simplification of Hume’s implicatum on I, if The Locke Society won’t. As a matter of fact, Grice calls one of his metaphysical construction routines the Humeian projection, so it is not too adventurous to think that Grice considers I  as an intuitive concept that needs to be metaphysically re-constructed and be given a legitimate Fregeian sense. Why that label for a construction routine? Grice calls this metaphysical construction routine Humeian projection, since the mind (or soul) as it were, spreads over its objects. But, by mind, Hume does not necessarily mean the I. Cf. The minds I. Grice is especially concerned with the poverty and weaknesses of Humes criticism to Lockes account of personal identity. Grice opts to revisit the Lockeian memory-based of this or that someone, viz. I utterance that Hume rather regards as vague, and confusing. Unlike Humes, neither Lockes nor Grices reductive analysis of personal identity is reductionist and eliminationist. The reductive-reductionist distinction Grice draws in Retrospective epilogue as he responds to Rountree-Jack on this or that alleged wrong on meaning that. It is only natural that Grice would be sympathetic to Locke. Grice explores these issues with Haugeland mainly at seminars. One may wonder why Grice spends so much time in a philosopher such as Hume, with whom he agreed almost on nothing! The answer is Humes influence in the Third World that forced Grice to focus on this or that philosopher. Surely Locke is less popular in the New World than Hume is. One supposes Grice is trying to save Hume at the implicatum level, at least. The phrase or term of art, logical construction is Russells and Broads, but Grice loved it. Rational reconstruction is not too dissimilar. Grice prefers Russells and Broads more conservative label. This is more than a terminological point. If Hume is right and there is NO intuitive concept behind I, one cannot strictly re-construct it, only construct it. Ultimately, Grice shows that, if only at the implicatum level, we are able to provide an analysandum for this or that someone, viz. I utterance without using I, by implicating only this or that mnemonic concept, which belongs, naturally, as his theory of negation does, in a theory of philosophical psychology, and again a lower branch of it, dealing with memory. The topic of personal identity unites various interests of Grice. The first is identity “=” simpliciter. Instead of talking of the meaning of I, as, say, Anscombe would, Grice sticks to the traditional category, or keyword, for this, i. e. the theory-laden, personal identity, or even personal sameness. Personal identity is a type of identity, but personal adds something to it. Surely Hume was stretching person a bit when using the example of a soul with a life lower than an oyster. Since Grice follows Aristotles De Anima, he enjoys Hume’s choice, though. It may be argued that personal adds Locke’s consciousness, and rational agency. Grice plays with the body-soul distinction. I, viz someone or somebody, fell from the stairs, perhaps differs from I will be fighting soon. This or that someone, viz. I utterance may be purely bodily. Grice would think that the idea that his soul fell from the stairs sounds, as it would to Berkeley, harsh. But then theres this or that one may be mixed utterance. Someone, viz. I, plays cricket, where surely your bodily mechanisms require some sort of control by the soul. Finally, this or that may be purely souly ‒ the one Grice ends up analysing, Someone, viz. I, hear that the bell tolls. At the time of his Mind essay, Grice may have been unaware of the complications that the concept of a person may bring as attached in adjective form to identity. Ayer did, and Strawson and Wiggins will, and Grice learns much from Strawson. Since Parfit, this has become a common-place topic for analysis at Oxford. A person as a complexum of a body-soul spatio-temporal continuant substance. Ultimately, Grice finds a theoretical counterpart here. A P may become a human, which Grice understands physiologically. That is not enough. A P must aspire, via meteousis, to become a person. Thus, person becomes a technical term in Grices grand metaphysical scheme of things. Someone, viz. I, hear that the bell is tolls is analysed as  ≡df, or if and only if, a hearing that the bell tolls is a part of a total temporary t_n souly state S₁ which is one in a s. such that any state S_n,  given this or that condition, contains as a part a memory M_n of the experience of hearing that the bell tolls, which is a component in some pre-sequent t₁n item, or contains an experience of hearing that the bell tolls a memory M of which would, given this or that condition, occur as a component in some sub-sequent t₂>t_n item, there being no sub-set of items which is independent of the rest. Grice simplifies the reductive analysans. Someone, viz. I, hears that the bell tolls iff a hearing that the bell tolls is a component in an item of an interlocking s. with emphasis on lock, s. of this or that memorable and memorative total temporary t_n state S₁. Is Grice’s Personal identity ever referred to in the Oxonian philosophical literature? Indeeed. Parfit mentions, which makes it especially memorable and memorative. P. Edwards includes a reference to Grices Mind essay in the entry for Personal identity, as a reference to Grice et al on Met. , is referenced in Edwardss encyclopædia entry for metaphysics. Grice does not attribute privileged access or incorrigibility to I or the first person. He always hastens to add that I can always be substituted, salva veritate (if baffling your addressee A) by someone or other, if not some-body or other, a colloquialism Grice especially detested. Grices agency-based approach requires that. I am rational provided thou art, too. If, by explicitly saying he is a Lockeian, Grice surely does not wish us to see him as trying to be original, or the first to consider this or that problem about I; i.e. someone. Still, Grice is the philosopher who explores most deeply the reductive analysis of I, i.e. someone. Grice needs the reductive analysis because human agency (philosophically, rather than psychologically interpreted) is key for his approach to things. By uttering The bell tolls, U means that someone, viz. himself, hears that the bell tolls, or even, by uttering I, hear, viz. someone hears, that the bell tolls, U means that the experience of a hearing that the bell tolls is a component in a total temporary state which is a member of a s. such that each member would, given certain conditions, contain as an component one memory of an experience which is a component in a pre-sequent member, or contains as a component some experience a memory of which would, given certain conditions, occur as a component in a post-sequent member; there being no sub-set of members which is independent of the rest. Thanks, the addressee might reply. I didnt know that! The reductive bit to Grices analysis needs to be emphasised. For Grice, a person, and consequently, a someone, viz. I utterance, is, simpliciter, a logical construction out of this or that Humeian experience. Whereas in Russell, as Broad notes, a logical construction of this or that philosophical concept, in this case personal identity, or cf. Grices earlier reductive analysis of not, is thought of as an improved, rationally reconstructed conception. Neither Russell nor Broad need maintain that the logical construction preserves the original meaning of the analysandum someone, viz. I, hears that the bell tolls, or I do not hear that the bell tolls ‒ hence their paradox of reductionist analysis. This change of Subjects does not apply to Grice. Grice emphatically intends to be make explicit, if rationally reconstructed (if that is not an improvement) through reductive (if not reductionist) analysis, the concept Grice already claims to have. One particular development to consider is within Grices play group, that of Quinton. Grice and Quinton seem to have been the only two philosophers in Austins play group who showed any interest on someone, viz. I. Or not. The fact that Quinton entitles his thing “The soul” did not help. Note that Woozley was at the time editing Reid on “Identity,” Cf. Duncan-Jones on mans mortality. Note that Quintons immediate trigger is Shoemaker. Grice writes that he is not “merely a series of perceptions,” for he is “conscious of a permanent self, an I who experiences these perceptions and who is now identical with the I who experienced perceptions yesterday.” So, leaving aside that he is using I with the third person verb, but surely this is no use-mention fallacy, it is this puzzle that provoked his thoughts on temporal-relative “=” later on. As Grice notes, Butler argued that consciousness of experience can contribute to identity but not define it. Grice will use Butler in his elaboration of conversational benevolence versus conversational self-interest. Better than Quinton, it is better to consider Flew in Philosophy, 96, on Locke and the problem of personal identity, obviously suggested as a term paper by Grice! Wiggins cites Flew. Flew actually notes that Berkeley saw Lockes problem earlier than Reid, which concerns the transitiveness of =. Recall that Wigginss tutor at Oxford was a tutee by Grice, Ackrill. Refs.: The main references covering identity simpliciter are in “Vacuous Names,” and his joint work on metaphysics with G. Myro. The main references relating to the second group, of personal identity, are his “Mind” essay, an essay on ‘the logical-construction theory of personal identity,’ and a second set of essays on Hume’s quandary, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

illusion: 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 implicata. 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 implicata 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.

imperative mode: 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 isnt 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 Grice – and 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 implicature 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 implicatum. 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 implicata 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, obviously – the 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 Implicature at the Rescue. Problems with or: Consider Rosss infamous example: Post the letter! Therefore, post the letter or burn it! as invalid, Ross – and 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 implicatum. 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 implicature 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 prefers – yet 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 implicature  ‒ 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! 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.

intentionalism: 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 implicatum. 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.

linguistic botany: Grice was a meta-linguistic botanist. His point was to criticise ordinary-language philosophers criticising philosophers. Say: Plato and Ayer say that episteme is a kind of doxa. The contemporary, if dated, ordinary-language philosopher detects a nuance, and embarks risking collision with the conversational facts or data: rushes ahead to exploit the nuance without clarifying it, with wrong dicta like: What I known to be the case I dont believe to be the case. Surely, a cancellable implicatum generated by the rational principle of conversational helpfulness is all there is to the nuance. Grice knew that unlike the ordinary-language philosopher, he was not providing a taxonomy or description, but a theoretical explanation. To not all philosophers analysis fits them to a T. It did to Grice. It did not even fit Strawson. Grice had a natural talent for analysis. He could not see philosophy as other than conceptual analysis. “No more, no less.” Obviously, there is an evaluative side to the claim that the province of philosophy is to be identified with conceptual analysis. Listen to a theoretical physicist, and hell keep talking about concepts, and even analysing them! The man in the street may not! So Grice finds himself fighting with at least three enemies: the man in the street (and trying to reconcile with him:  What I do is to help you), the scientists (My conceptual analysis is meta-conceptual), and synthetic philosophers who disagree with Grice that analysis plays a key role in philosophical methodology. Grice sees this as an update to his post-war Oxford philosophy. But we have to remember that back when he read that paper, post-war Oxford philosophy, was just around the corner and very fashionable. By the time he composed the piece on conceptual analysis as overlapping with the province of philosophy, he was aware that, in The New World, anaytic had become, thanks to Quine, a bit of an abusive term, and that Grices natural talent for linguistic botanising (at which post-war Oxford philosophy excelled) was not something he could trust to encounter outside Oxford, and his Play Group! Since his Negation and Personal identity Grice is concerned with reductive analysis. How many angels can dance on a needles point? A needless point? This is Grices update to his Post-war Oxford philosophy. More generally concerned with the province of philosophy in general and conceptual analysis beyond ordinary language. It can become pretty technical. Note the Roman overtone of province. Grice is implicating that the other province is perhaps science, even folk science, and the claims and ta legomena of the man in the street. He also likes to play with the idea that a conceptual enquiry need not be philosophical. Witness the very opening to Logic and conversation, Prolegomena. Surely not all inquiries need be philosophical. In fact, a claim to infame of Grice at the Play Group is having once raised the infamous, most subtle, question: what is it that makes a conceptual enquiry philosophically interesting or important? As a result, Austin and his kindergarten spend three weeks analysing the distinct inappropriate implicata of adverbial collocations of intensifiers like highly depressed, versus very depressed, or very red, but not highly red, to no avail. Actually the logical form of very is pretty complicated, and Grice seems to minimise the point. Grices moralising implicature, by retelling the story, is that he has since realised (as he hoped Austin knew) that there is no way he or any philosopher can dictate to any other philosopher, or himself, what is it that makes a conceptual enquiry philosophically interesting or important. Whether it is fun is all that matters. Refs.: The main references are meta-philosophical, i. e. Grice talking about linguistic botany, rather than practicing it. “Reply to Richards,” and the references under “Oxonianism” below are helpful. For actual practice, under ‘rationality.’ There is a specific essay on linguistic botanising, too. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

meta-ethics: For Grice it is complicated, since there is an ethical or practical side even to an eschatological argument. Grice’s views on ethics are Oxonian. At Oxford, meta-ethics is a generational thing: there’s Grice, and the palaeo-Gricieans, and the post-Gricieans. There’s Hampshire, and Hare, and Nowell-Smith, and Warnock. P. H. Nowell Smith felt overwhelmed by Grice’s cleverness and they would hardly engage in meta-ethical questions. But Nowell Smith felt that Grice was ‘too clever.’ Grice objected Hare’s use of descriptivism and Strawsons use of definite descriptor. Grice preferred to say “the the.”. “Surely Hare is wrong when sticking with his anti-descriptivist diatribe. Even his dictum is descriptive!” Grice was amused that it all started with Abbott BEFORE 1879, since Abbott’s first attempt was entitled, “Kant’s theory of ethics, or practical philosophy” (1873). ”! Grices explorations on morals are language based. With a substantial knowledge of the classical languages (that are so good at verb systems and modes like the optative, that English lacks), Grice explores modals like should, (Hampshire) ought to (Hare) and, must (Grice ‒ necessity). Grice is well aware of Hares reflections on the neustic qualifications on the phrastic. The imperative has usually been one source for the philosophers concern with the language of morals. Grice attempts to balance this with a similar exploration on good, now regarded as the value-paradeigmatic notion par excellence. We cannot understand, to echo Strawson, the concept of a person unless we understand the concept of a good person, i.e. the philosopher’s conception of a good person.   Morals is very Oxonian. There were in Grices time only three chairs of philosophy at Oxford: the three W: the Waynflete chair of metaphysical philosophy, the Wykeham chair of logic (not philosophy, really), and the White chair of moral philosophy. Later, the Wilde chair of philosophical psychology was created. Grice was familiar with Austin’s cavalier attitude to morals as Whites professor of moral philosophy, succeeding Kneale. When Hare succeeds Austin, Grice knows that it is time to play with the neustic implicatum! Grices approach to morals is very meta-ethical and starts with a fastidious (to use Blackburns characterisation, not mine!) exploration of modes related to propositional phrases involving should, ought to, and must. For Hampshire, should is the moral word par excellence. For Hare, it is ought. For Grice, it is only must that preserves that sort of necessity that, as a Kantian rationalist, he is looking for. However, Grice hastens to add that whatever hell say about the buletic, practical or boulomaic must must also apply to the doxastic must, as in What goes up must come down. That he did not hesitate to use necessity operators is clear from his axiomatic treatment, undertaken with Code, on Aristotelian categories of izzing and hazzing. To understand Grices view on ethics, we should return to the idea of creature construction in more detail. Suppose we are genitors-demigods-designing living creatures, creatures Grice calls Ps. To design a type of P is to specify a diagram and table for that type plus evaluative procedures, if any. The design is implemented in animal stuff-flesh and bones typically. Let us focus on one type of P-a very sophisticated type that Grice, borrowing from Locke, calls very intelligent rational Ps. Think of them very roughly as creatures with the capacities for thought and action characteristic of persons. Being benevolent genitors, we want to design these Ps so as to maximize their chances for survival. As Grice recently pointed out in conversation-by talk of survival, he does not, in the case of very intelligent rational Ps, mean simply staying alive. A full explanation of what Grice has in mind here would require an account of his views on teleology; however, for our purposes a full explanation is unnecessary. We need note only the following points. First, in constructing Ps we build in certain ends, and for our purposes we may imagine ourselves as having a fairly free hand in deciding what ends to select. To build in an end is to construct the diagram and table so that the Ps have that end as a standing, constant end-an end where they strive to realize in all appropriate circumstances. The restriction to appropriate circumstances is necessary for two reasons. First, we will want to endow the Ps with a variety of ends, and we will not want a P to try to realize each end at each moment of time. We want them to schedule their pursuit of ends in a way that maximizes the realization of the whole array in the long run. Second, we will, in the case of very intelligent rational Ps, want to give them the (limited) ability to eliminate (or inhibit for a long time the pursuit of) built-in ends should circumstances prove especially inappropriate. Now we can explain what, for present purposes, we mean by survival: to maximize chances for survival is to maximize chances for the realization of built-in ends. How are we to design the Ps so as to maximize their chances for realizing the built-in ends? The answer would be easy if we could take as given a very detailed specification of the environment in which the Ps live. Then we could tailor the diagram and table to that specific environment by building in exactly the responses that the environment demands. But we cannot assume such a specific description of the environment; on the contrary, we know that the Ps will face a variety of changing environments. So we need to design the Ps to function effectively in the widest possible range of environments. We could, of course, avoid this if we were willing to descend periodically from Olympus in order to redesign the Ps in response to each significant change in the environment. But there is a more efficient way to achieve the same result: we give the Ps the ability to redesign themselves. There are two aspects to this ability. First among the ends we build in is the end of being an end-setter. To be an end-setter requires that one have the (limited) ability to adopt new ends and to eliminate ends one already has. To have the end of being an end-setter is to have the end of employing this ability to adopt and eliminate ends. This is not, as we will see, a complete specification of what it is to be an end-setter, but it will suffice for the moment. By making the Ps end-setters we will enable them to redesign themselves by altering what they aim at. Second, to enable Ps to determine when to use their end-setting ability, we have given them an appropriate set of evaluative principles. These principles incorporate in the Ps some of our wisdom as genitors. We do not need to descend periodically to redesign them because in a sense we are always present-having endowed them with some of our divine knowledge. What does this have to do with ethics? Grice answers this question in Method in Philosophical Psychology. To interpret the reference to rational capacities and dispositions in the following passage, recall that, given the connection between evaluative principles and rationality Grice spells it out, we have, in giving the Ps evaluative principles, given them a capacity for rational evaluation. Let me be a little more explicit, and a great deal more speculative, about the possible relation to ethics of my programme for philosophical psychology. I shall suppose that the genitorial programme has been realized to the point at which we have designed a class of Ps which, nearly following Locke, I might call very intelligent rational Ps. These Ps will be capable of putting themselves in the genitorial position, of asking how, if they were constructing themselves with a view to their own survival, they would execute this task; and, if we have done our work aright, their answer will be the same as ours . We might, indeed, envisage the contents of a highly general practical manual, which these Ps would be in a position to compile. The contents of the initial manual would have various kinds of generality which are connected with familiar discussions of universalizability. The Ps have, so far, been endowed only with the characteristics which belong to the genitorial justified psychological theory; so the manual will have to be formulated in terms of that theory, together with the concepts involved in the very general description of livingconditions which have been used to set up that theory; the manual will therefore have conceptual generality. There will be no way of singling out a special subclass of addressees, so the injunctions of the manual will have to be addressed, indifferently, to any very intelligent rational P, and will thus have generality of form. And since the manual can be thought of as being composed by each of the so far indistinguishable Ps, no P would include in the manual injunctions prescribing a certain line of conduct in circumstances to which he was not likely to be Subjects; nor indeed could he do so even if he would. So the circumstances for which conduct is prescribed could be presumed to be such as to be satisfied, from time to time, by any addressee; the manual, then, will have generality of application. Such a manual might, perhaps, without ineptitude be called an immanuel; and the very intelligent rational Ps, each of whom both composes it and from time to time heeds it, might indeed be ourselves (in our better moments, of course). We can both explain and motivate this approach to ethics by considering three objections. First, one may complain that the above remarks are extremely vague. In particular, what are the evaluative principles-the rational capacities and dispositions-with which we endow the Ps? These principles play a central role in compiling the manual (Immanuel). How can we evaluate the suggested approach to ethics until we are told what these evaluative principles are? This complaint is somewhat unjust-in the context of “Method” at least, for there Grice labels his remarks as speculative. But, more importantly, Grice has done a considerable amount of work directed toward providing this objection with the information it demands; this work includes investigations of happiness, freedom, reasoning, and teleology. While the examination of these projects is unfortunately beyond the scope of our introduction, we should comment briefly on Grices work on happiness. In Some Reflections about Ends and Happiness, Grice develops an account of happiness, and on this account it is clear that the conception of happiness could certainly function as a central evaluative principle in endsetting. It is also worth remarking here that Grices views on happiness are very Aristotelian; Grice emphasizes the Kantian aspect of his view in the passage quoted, but when the views are worked out, one finds a blend of Kantian and Aristotelian themes. The second objection is that Grices approach makes it too easy to escape the demands of morality. What can Grice say to a personor P-who rejects the manual, rejects moral demands and constraints? Suppose, for example, that a person reasons as follows: If I continue to heed the voice of morality, I will continue on occasion to sacrifice my welfare and interests in favor of anothers welfare and interests. Why should I be such a fool? After all, what am I after except getting as much as I can of what I want. Thorough-going egoism is the path to take; Ill have to resist these impulses to help others, in the way I resist sweets when I am dieting. Perhaps I will be able to condition such impulses out of myself in time. Does Grices approach have a reply to the consistent thorough-going egoist? It does-as Grice pointed out in a recent conversation; the considerations which follow are based on that conversation. First we need to provide a more detailed account of end-setting. When we give our Ps the end of end-setting we have a good reason for giving them each of the evaluative principles in order to build in the capacity to redesign themselves, and we build in that capacity in order to maximize their chances of realizing their ends over the widest possible range of environments. So we have a good reason for giving them each of the end-setting evaluative principles: Namesly, each one contributes to the capacity of redesigning in a way that maximizes the chances of realizing endls. The Ps themselves are capable of recognizing that the evaluative principles make such a contribution, so each P has (or can have) a reason for having the evaluative principles. (We are assuming that contributing to the maximization of the realization of ends constitutes a good reason; a defence of this assumption would require an examination of Grices view on teleology.) A second essential point is that we design the Ps so that they do not simply adopt or eliminate ends at will; rather, they do so only when they have good reasons to do so-good reasons derived from the evaluative principles that govern end-setting. We design them this way in order to maximize their chances for the realization of their ends. We want them to use their ability for end-setting only when the evaluative principles we have built in determine that a change of ends is called for in order to maximize the overall realization of ends. (In the typical case at least, an end-setter will only alter some of his ends as to maximize the realization of all his (remaining and newly adopted) ends.) An end-setter then has the end of adopting or eliminating ends when he has good reasons to do so-where these reasons are provided by evaluative principles; and these evaluative principles are such that he has a good reason for having each of those principles. Let us call such an end-setter a Griceian end-setter. Returning now to egoism, we can distinguish three different situations in which one might try to reject the demands of morality. Before going on, one may insist on knowing what we mean by the demands of morality, but it is enough for present purposes that we agree that morality demands at least that one does not always treat others purely as means to ones own ends. It is this demand that the egoist described earlier rejects. First, if the egoist is a Griceian end-setter who wishes to remain a Griceian end-setter, then he cannot abandon the non-egotistical principles since they are self-justifying and do not depend on other premisses. Second, if the egoist envisioned is one who would cease to be a Griceian end-setter, this too is impossible for a rational agent. Being a Griceian end-setter is itself one of the self-justifying ends, and thus it can be abandoned only if one abandons reasoning. Finally, there is the question of whether an agent who is not a Griceian end-setter can be an egoist. Again the answer appears to be no, if the agent is rational and considers the question. For being a Griceian end-setter can be seen on reflection to be a self-justifying end, and thus must be adopted by any reflective rational agent. Let this suffice as a brief indication of Grices approach to the second objection, and let us turn to the third and last objection. This objection concerns what we have been calling the demands of morality; the objection is that the notion of demand is vague. What do we mean by demand when we talk of the demands of morality? What kind of demand is this? What sort of claim is it that morality has on us? Grice has done a considerable amount of work relevant to this question including Probability, Desirability, and Mood Operators, the Locke Lectures, and recent work on Kant. In explaining the claim morality has on us, Grice employs distinctions and notation provided by his theory of meaning. We can begin with the sentence Pay Jones the money! Grice assigns this sentence the following structure: !+I pay Jones the money where ! is the imperative mood operator and I pay Jones the money is a moodless sentence radical. This structure is embeddable in other sentences. In particular, it occurs in both I should pay Jones the money and I should not pay Jones the money. Grice assigns these the following structures: Acc+!+I pay Jones the money; Not+ Acc+! +I pay Jones the money, where Ace may be read as it is acceptable that. So if we read ! as let it be the case that, the whole string, Acc+! I pay Jones the money may be read as: It is acceptable that (let) it be the case that I pay Jones the money (whole Not+ Acc.+! +I pay Jones the money may be read as It is not the case that it is acceptable that (let) it be the case that I pay Jones the money). In Probability, Desirability, and Mode Operators Grice motivates this assignment of structures by arguing, in effect, that the sentence I should pay Jones the money means-on the central and important reading-that it is acceptable that (let) it be the case that I pay Jones the money. The argument rests on an analysis of practical reasoning and on the analysis of sentence meaning. Actually, Grice does not say that I should pay Jones the money means what we just said it means. In Probability, Desirability, and Mode Operators he is much more circumspect. After discussing probability inferences, Grice notes that, bearing in mind the variety of interpretations to which sentences containing ought and should are susceptible, he finds it natural to take, as practical analogues to sentences like an invalid is likely to be in retirement, sentences like it is desirable for an invalid to keep in touch with his doctor. For expositional purposes, he uses should-sentences since the interpretation we want these sentences to bear is clear, and the use of should-sentences highlights the connections with ordinary moral reasoning. Suppose morality demands that I pay Jones the money; that is, I act morally only if I pay Jones the money. Grice holds that this is true only if an appropriate sentence (or thought) is derivable from my evaluative principles-a sentence (or thought) whose underlying structure is Acc+!+I pay Jones the money. I can, that is, derive that it is acceptable that (let) it be the case that I pay Jones the money; in other words, that I should pay Jones the money. Grice holds that since I derive this from evaluative principles, it is necessary; that is, it is necessary that I should pay Jones the money. There are two points to note in order to explain the claim morality has on us. First, Grice holds that the self-justifying evaluative principles are necessarily true, and he holds that I can show, e.g. that it is necessarily true that I should pay Jones the money, by constructing a suitable derivation of I should pay Jones the money from my self-justifying evaluative principles. These claims follow from a general view Grice has of the nature of necessity, a view that he considers elsewhere. To be more precise, what I derive from my evaluative principles is a sentence with the underlying structure: Acc+!I pay Jones the money, which we read as It is acceptable that (let) it be the case that I pay Jones the money. Since it is possible to construct an appropriate derivation it is necessary that it is acceptable that (let) it be the case that I pay Jones the money. This is how we should understand attaching necessary to a should-statement. The sentence Necessarily, I should pay Jones the money expresses the necessary acceptability of the imperative Pay Jones the money! (Since my derivation will involve contingent information about the circumstances C, we should represent what I derive as I should in these circumstances C pay Jones the money; this will be what is necessary. We ignore this detail.) Second, it does not follow from the fact that it is necessary that I should pay Jones the money that I will pay him the money. Even if it is necessary that it is acceptable that (let) it be the case that I pay Jones the money, and even if I derive this, I may not act on it. It is true that I cannot have a good reason not to act on it; after all, I have derived the necessity of accepting the imperative, Pay Jones the money!; and as a Griceian end-setter I am committed to acting on such reasons; but this does not mean I will. A person is capable of irrationality-even in the face of acknowledged necessity. Now we are in a position to explain what we mean by talk of the demands of morality. The demands of morality are expressed by necessary should-statements. Or perhaps we may want to say that they are expressed by a special subset of such statements. We need not investigate this possibility since it would not alter the point we are making here-which is that the demands of morality express the necessity of rational agents accepting and acting on certain imperatives (in so far as they act rationally). Consider the role elements of Grices theory of meaning play in the above discussion of ethics, we have in a way returned to the startingpoint of our exposition of Grices views. And it is certainly high time we let the discoverer of M-intentions formulate some in response to what we have written. High time but not quite time. For one thing, we should note that the discussion of ethics resolves an issue we suppressed when discussing psychological explanation. At one point in that section, we wrote, with respect to M-intending, Given our ends and our environment, there is good and decisive reason to have such a pre-rational structure. We did not raise the question of what makes those considerations into a reason; we tacitly assumed that relations to happiness and survival secured that the considerations counted as reasons. The ethics discussion points the way to detailed and informative treatment of this issue. Not that the discussion suggests that we were wrong to appeal tacitly to happiness and survival; on the contrary, it indicates that we should explain the reason-giving force of such considerations by examining the role they play for a Griceian-end-setter. Refs.: Most of Grice’s theorizing on ethics counts as ‘meta-ethic,’ especially in connection with R. M. Hare, but also with less prescriptivist Oxonian philosophers such as Nowell-Smith, with his bestseller for Penguin, Austin, Warnock, and Hampshire. Keywords then are ‘ethic,’ and ‘moral.’ There are many essays on both Kantotle, i.e. on Aristotle and Kant. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

mode: Grice is a modista. He sometimes did use ‘modus,’ after Abbott. The earliest record is of course “Meaning.” After elucidating what he calls ‘informative cases,’ he moves to ‘imperative’ ones. Grice agreed with Thomas Urquhart that English needed a few more moods! Grice’s seven modes.Thirteenthly, In lieu of six moods which other languages have at most, this one injoyeth seven in its conjugable words. Ayer had said that non-indicative utterances are hardly significant. Grice had been freely using the very English not Latinate ‘mood’ until Moravcsik, of all people, corrects him: What you mean ain’t a mood. I shall call it mode just to please you, J. M. E. The sergeant is to muster the men at dawn is a perfect imperative. They shall not pass is a perfect intentional. A version of this essay was presented in a conference whose proceedings were published, except for Grices essay, due to technical complications, viz. his idiosyncratic use of idiosyncratic symbology! By mode Grice means indicative or imperative. Following Davidson, Grice attaches probability to the indicative, via the doxastic, and desirability to the indicative, via the buletic-boulomaic.  He also allows for mixed utterances. Probability is qualified with a suboperator indicating a degree d; ditto for desirability, degree d. In some of the drafts, Grice kept using mode until Moravsik suggested to him that mode was a better choice, seeing that Grices modality had little to do with what other authors were referring to as mood. Probability, desirability, and modality, modality, desirability, and probability; modality, probability, desirability. He would use mode operator. Modality is the more correct term, for things like should, ought, and must, in that order. One sense. The doxastic modals are correlated to probability. The buletic or boulomaic modals are correlated to desirability. There is probability to a degree d. But there is also desirability to a degree d.  They both combine in Grices attempt to show how Kants categorical imperative reduces to the hypothetical or suppositional. Kant uses modality in a way that Grice disfavours, preferring modus. Grice is aware of the use by Kant of modality qua category in the reduction by Kant to four of the original ten categories in Aristotle). The Jeffrey-style entitled Probability, desirability, and mode operators finds Grice at his formal-dress best. It predates the Kant lectures and it got into so much detail that Grice had to leave it at that. So abstract it hurts. Going further than Davidson, Grice argues that structures expressing probability and desirability are not merely analogous. They can both be replaced by more complex structures containing a common element. Generalising over attitudes using the symbol ψ, which he had used before, repr. WoW:v, Grice proposes G ψ that p. Further, Grice uses i as a dummy for sub-divisions of psychological attitudes. Grice uses Op supra i sub α, read: operation supra i sub alpha, as Grice was fastidious enough to provide reading versions for these, and where α is a dummy taking the place of either A or B, i. e. Davidsons prima facie or desirably, and probably. In all this, Grice keeps using the primitive !, where a more detailed symbolism would have it correspond exactly to Freges composite turnstile (horizontal stroke of thought and vertical stroke of assertoric force, Urteilstrich) that Grice of course also uses, and for which it is proposed, then: !─p. There are generalising movements here but also merely specificatory ones. α is not generalised. α is a dummy to serve as a blanket for this or that specifications. On the other hand, ψ is indeed generalised. As for i, is it generalising or specificatory? i is a dummy for specifications, so it is not really generalising. But Grice generalises over specifications. Grice wants to find buletic, boulomaic or volitive as he prefers when he does not prefer the Greek root for both his protreptic and exhibitive versions (operator supra exhibitive, autophoric, and operator supra protreptic, or hetero-phoric). Note that Grice (WoW:110) uses the asterisk * as a dummy for either assertoric, i.e., Freges turnstile, and non-assertoric, the !─ the imperative turnstile, if you wish. The operators A are not mode operators; they are such that they represent some degree (d) or measure of acceptability or justification. Grice prefers acceptability because it connects with accepting that which is a psychological, souly attitude, if a general one. Thus, Grice wants to have It is desirable that p and It is believable that p as understood, each, by the concatenation of three elements. The first element is the A-type operator. The second element is the protreptic-type operator. The third element is the phrastic, root, content, or proposition itself. It is desirable that p and It is believable that p share the utterer-oriented-type operator and the neustic or proposition. They only differ at the protreptic-type operator (buletic/volitive/boulomaic or judicative/doxastic). Grice uses + for concatenation, but it is best to use ^, just to echo who knows who. Grice speaks in that mimeo (which he delivers in Texas, and is known as Grices Performadillo talk ‒ Armadillo + Performative) of various things. Grice speaks, transparently enough, of acceptance: V-acceptance and J-acceptance. V not for Victory but for volitional, and J for judicative. The fact that both end with -acceptance would accept you to believe that both are forms of acceptance. Grice irritatingly uses 1 to mean the doxastic, and 2 to mean the bulematic. At Princeton in Method, he defines the doxastic in terms of the buletic and cares to do otherwise, i. e. define the buletic in terms of the doxastic. So whenever he wrote buletic read doxastic, and vice versa. One may omits this arithmetic when reporting on Grices use. Grice uses two further numerals, though: 3 and 4. These, one may decipher – one finds oneself as an archeologist in Tutankamons burial ground, as this or that relexive attitude. Thus, 3, i. e. ψ3, where we need the general operator ψ, not just specificatory dummy, but the idea that we accept something simpliciter. ψ3 stands for the attitude of buletically accepting an or utterance: doxastically accepting that p or doxastically accepting that ~p. Why we should be concerned with ~p is something to consider.  G wants to decide whether to believe p or not. I find that very Griceian. Suppose I am told that there is a volcano in Iceland. Why would I not want to believe it? It seems that one may want to decide whether to believe p or not when p involves a tacit appeal to value. But, as Grice notes, even when it does not involve value, Grice still needs trust and volition to reign supreme. On the other hand, theres 4, as attached to an attitude, ψ4. This stands for an attitude of buletically accepting an or utterance: buletically accepting that p, or G buletically accepting that ~p, i. e. G wants to decide whether to will, now that p or not. This indeed is crucial, since, for Grice, morality, as with Kantotle, does cash in desire, the buletic. Grice smokes. He wills to smoke. But does he will to will to smoke? Possibly yes. Does he will to will to will to smoke? Regardless of what Grice wills, one may claim this holds for a serious imperatives (not Thou shalt not reek, but Thou shalt not kill, say) or for any p if you must (because if you know that p causes cancer (p stands for a proposition involving cigarette) you should know you are killing yourself. But then time also kills, so what gives? So I would submit that, for Kant, the categoric imperative is one which allows for an indefinite chain, not of chain-smokers, but of good-willers. If, for some p, we find that at some stage, the P does not will that he wills that he wills that he wills that, p can not be universalisable. This is proposed in an essay referred to in The Philosophers Index but Marlboro Cigarettes took no notice. One may go on to note Grices obsession on make believe. If I say, I utter expression e because the utterer wants his addressee to believe that the utterer believes that p, there is utterer and addresse, i. e. there are two people here  ‒ or any soul-endowed creature  ‒ for Grices squarrel means things to Grice. It even implicates. It miaows to me while I was in bed. He utters miaow. He means that he is hungry, he means (via implicatum) that he wants a nut (as provided by me). On another occasion he miaowes explicating, The door is closed, and implicating Open it, idiot. On the other hand, an Andy-Capps cartoon read: When budgies get sarcastic Wild-life programmes are repeating One may note that one can want some other person to hold an attitude. Grice uses U or G1 for utterer and A or G2 for addressee. These are merely roles. The important formalism is indeed G1 and G2. G1 is a Griceish utterer-person; G2 is the other person, G1s addressee. Grice dislikes a menage a trois, apparently, for he seldom symbolises a third party, G3. So, G ψ-3-A that p is 1 just in case G ψ2(G ψ1 that p) or G ψ1 that ~p is 1. And here the utterers addressee, G2 features: G1 ψ³ protreptically that p is 1 just in case G buletically accepts ψ² (G buletically accepts ψ² (G doxastically accepts ψ1 that p, or G doxastically accepts ψ1 that ~p))) is 1. Grice seems to be happy with having reached four sets of operators, corresponding to four sets of propositional attitudes, and for which Grice provides the paraphrases. The first set is the doxastic proper. It is what Grice has as doxastic,and which is, strictly, either indicative, of the utterers doxastic, exhibitive state, as it were, or properly informative, if addressed to the addressee A, which is different from U himself, for surely one rarely informs oneself. The second is the buletic proper. What Grice dubs volitive, but sometimes he prefers the Grecian root. This is again either self- or utterer-addressed, or utterer-oriented, or auto-phoric, and it is intentional, or it is other-addressed, or addressee-addressed, or addressee- oriented, or hetero-phoric, and it is imperative, for surely one may not always say to oneself, Dont smoke, idiot!. The third is the doxastic-interrogative, or doxastic-erotetic. One may expand on ? here is minimal compared to the vagaries of what I called the !─ (non-doxastic or buletic turnstile), and which may be symbolised by ?─p, where ?─ stands for the erotetic turnstile. Geachs and Althams erotetic somehow Grice ignores, as he more often uses the Latinate interrogative. interrŏgātĭo , ōnis, f. id., I.a questioning, inquiry, examination, interrogation (class.).I. In gen.: sententia per interrogationem, Quint. 8, 5, 5: instare interrogatione, id. 6, 3, 38: testium, Tac. A. 6, 47: insidiosa, Plin. Ep. 1, 5, 7: litteris inclusæ, Dig. 48, 3, 6, § 1. Absol., Cic. Fam. 1, 9, 7; Quint. 5, 7, 3: verbis obligatio fit ex interrogatione et responsione, Gai. Inst. 2, 92. II. In partic. A. As rhet. fig., Quint. 9, 2, 15; 9, 3, 98. B. A syllogism: recte genus hoc interrogationis ignavum ac iners nominatum est, Cic. Fat. 13; Sen. Ep. 87 med. Surely more people know what interrogative means what erotetic means, he would not say ‒ but he would. This attitude comes again in two varieties: self-addressed or utterer-oriented, reflective (Should I go?) or again, addresee-addressed, or addressee-oriented, imperative, as in Should you go?, with a strong hint that the utterer is expecting is addressee to make up his mind in the proceeding, not just inform the utterer. Last but not least, there is the fourth kind, the buletic-cum-erotetic. Here again, there is one varietiy which is reflective, autophoric, as Grice prefers, utterer-addressed, or utterer-oriented, or inquisitive (for which Ill think of a Greek pantomime), or addressee-addressed, or addressee-oriented. Grice regrets that Greek (and Latin, of which he had less ‒ cfr. Shakespeare who had none) fares better in this respect the Oxonian that would please Austen, if not Austin, or Maucalay, and certainly not Urquhart -- his language has twelve parts of speech: each declinable in eleven cases, four numbers, eleven genders (including god, goddess, man, woman, animal, etc.); and conjugable in eleven tenses, seven moods, and four voices.These vocal mannerisms will result in the production of some pretty barbarous English sentences; but we must remember that what I shall be trying to do, in uttering such sentences, will be to represent supposedly underlying structure; if that is ones aim, one can hardly expect that ones speech-forms will be such as to excite the approval of, let us say, Jane Austen or Lord Macaulay. Cf. the quessertive, or quessertion, possibly iterable, that Grice cherished. But then you cant have everything. Where would you put it? Grice: The modal implicatum. Grice sees two different, though connected questions about mode. First, there is the obvious demand for a characterisation, or partial characterisation, of this or that mode as it emerges in this or that conversational move, which is plausible to regard as modes primary habitat) both at the level of the explicatum or the implicatum, for surely an indicative conversational move may be the vehicle of an imperatival implicatum. A second, question is how, and to what extent, the representation of mode (Hares neustic) which is suitable for application to this or that conversational move may be legitimately exported into philosophical psychology, or rather, may be grounded on questions of philosophical psychology, matters of this or that psychological state, stance, or attitude (notably desire and belief, and their species). We need to consider the second question, the philosophico- psychological question, since, if the general rationality operator is to read as something like acceptability, as in U accepts, or A accepts, the appearance of this or that mode within its scope of accepting is proper only if it may properly occur within the scope of a generic psychological verb I accept that . Thus we find in Short and Lewis, “accepto,” “v. freq. a. accipio,” which Short and Lewis render as “to take, receive, accept,” “argentum,” Plaut. Ps. 2, 2, 32; so Quint. 12, 7, 9; Curt. 4, 6, 5; Dig. 34, 1, 9: “jugum,” to submit to, Sil. Ital. 7, 41. But in Plin. 36, 25, 64, the correct read. is coeptavere; v. Sillig. a. h. l. The easiest way Grice finds to expound his ideas on the first question is by reference to a schematic table or diagram (Some have complained that I seldom use a board, but I will today. Grice at this point reiterates his temporary contempt for the use/mention distinction, which which Strawson is obsessed. Perhaps Grices contempt is due to Strawsons obsession. Grices exposition would make the hair stand on end in the soul of a person especially sensitive in this area. And Im talking to you, Sir Peter! (He is on the second row). But Grices guess is that the only historical philosophical mistake properly attributable to use/mention confusion is Russells argument against Frege in On denoting, and that there is virtually always an acceptable way of eliminating disregard of the use-mention distinction in a particular case, though the substitutes are usually lengthy, obscure, and tedious. Grice makes three initial assumptions. He avails himself of two species of acceptance, Namesly, volitive acceptance and judicative acceptance, which he, on occasion, calls respectively willing that p and willing that p.  These are to be thought of as technical or semi-technical, theoretical or semi-theoretical, though each is a state which approximates to what we vulgarly call thinking that p and wanting that p, especially in the way in which we can speak of a beast such as a little squarrel as thinking or wanting something  ‒ a nut, poor darling little thing. Grice here treats each will and judge (and accept) as a primitive. The proper interpretation would be determined by the role of each in a folk-psychological theory (or sequence of folk-psychological theories), of the type the Wilde reader in mental philosophy favours at Oxford, designed to account for the behaviours of members of the animal kingdom, at different levels of psychological complexity (some classes of creatures being more complex than others, of course). As Grice suggests in Us meaning, sentence-meaning, and word-meaning, at least at the point at which (Schema Of Procedure-Specifiers For Mood-Operators) in ones syntactico-semantical theory of Pirotese or Griceish, one is introducing this or that mode (and possibly earlier), the proper form to use is a specifier for this or that resultant procedure. Such a specifier is of the general form, For the utterer U to utter x if C, where the blank is replaced by the appropriate condition. Since in the preceding scheme x represents an utterance or expression, and not a sentence or open sentence, there is no guarantee that this or that actual sentence in Pirotese or Griceish contains a perspicuous and unambiguous modal representation. A sentence may correspond to more than one modal structure. The sentence is structurally ambiguous (multiplex in meaning  ‒ under the proviso that senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity) and will have more than one reading, or parsing, as every schoolboy at Clifton knows when translating viva voce from Greek or Latin, as the case might be. The general form of a procedure-specifier for a modal operator involves a main clause and an antecedent clause, which follows if. In the schematic representation of the main clause, U represents an utterer, A his addressee, p the radix or neustic; and Opi represents that operator whose number is i (1, 2, 3, or 4), e.g g., Op3A represents Operator 3A, which, since ?⊢ appears in the Operator column for 3A) would be ?A ⊢ p. This reminds one of Grandys quessertions, for he did think they were iterable (possibly)). The antecedent clause consists of a sequence whose elements are a preamble, as it were, or preface, or prefix, a supplement to a differential (which is present only in a B-type, or addressee-oriented case), a differential, and a radix. The preamble, which is always present, is invariant, and reads: The U U wills (that) A A judges (that) U  (For surely meaning is a species of intending is a species of willing that, alla Prichard, Whites professor, Corpus). The supplement, if present, is also invariant. And the idea behind its varying presence or absence is connected, in the first instance, with the volitive mode. The difference between an ordinary expression of intention  ‒ such as I shall not fail, or They shall not pass  ‒  and an ordinary imperative (Like Be a little kinder to him) is accommodated by treating each as a sub-mode of the volitive mode, relates to willing that p) In the intentional case (I shall not fail), the utterer U is concerned to reveal to his addressee A that he (the utterer U) wills that p. In the imperative case (They shall not pass), the utterer U is concerned to reveal to his addressee A that the utterer U wills that the addresee A will that p.  In each case, of course, it is to be presumed that willing that p will have its standard outcome, viz., the actualization, or realisation, or direction of fit, of the radix (from expression to world, downwards). There is a corresponding distinction between two uses of an indicative. The utterer U may be declaring or affirming that p, in an exhibitive way, with the primary intention to get his addressee A to judge that the utterer judges that p. Or the U is telling (in a protreptic way) ones addressee that p, that is to say, hoping to get his addressee to judge that p. In the case of an indicative, unlike that of a volitive, there is no explicit pair of devices which would ordinarily be thought of as sub-mode marker. The recognition of the sub-mode is implicated, and comes from context, from the vocative use of the Names of the addressee, from the presence of a speech-act verb, or from a sentence-adverbial phrase (like for your information, so that you know, etc.). But Grice has already, in his initial assumptions, allowed for such a situation. The exhibitive-protreptic distinction or autophoric-heterophoric distinction, seems to Grice to be also discernible in the interrogative mode (?). Each differentials is associated with, and serve to distinguish, each of the two basic modes (volitive or judicative) and, apart from one detail in the case of the interrogative mode, is invariant between autophoric-exhibitive) and heterophoric-protreptic sub-modes of any of the two basic modes. They are merely unsupplemented or supplemented, the former for an exhibitive sub-mode and the latter for a protreptic sub-mode. The radix needs (one hopes) no further explanation, except that it might be useful to bear in mind that Grice does not stipulated that the radix for an intentional (buletic exhibitive utterer-based) incorporate a reference to the utterer, or be in the first person, nor that the radix for an imperative (buletic protreptic addressee-based) incorporate a reference of the addresee, and be in the second person. They shall not pass is a legitimate intentional, as is You shall not get away with it; and The sergeant is to muster the men at dawn, as uttered said by the captain to the lieutenant) is a perfectly good imperative. Grice gives in full the two specifiers derived from the schema. U to utter to A autophoric-exhibitive ⊢ p if U wills that A judges that U judges p. Again, U to utter to A ! heterophoric-protreptic p if U wills that A A judges that U wills that A wills that p. Since, of the states denoted by each differential, only willing that p and judging that p are strictly cases of accepting that p, and Grices ultimate purpose of his introducing this characterization of mode is to reach a general account of expressions which are to be conjoined, according to his proposal, with an acceptability operator, the first two numbered rows of the figure are (at most) what he has a direct use for. But since it is of some importance to Grice that his treatment of mode should be (and should be thought to be) on the right lines, he adds a partial account of the interrogative mode. There are two varieties of interrogatives, a yes/no interrogatives (e. g. Is his face clean? Is the king of France bald? Is virtue a fire-shovel?) and x-interrogatives, on which Grice qua philosopher was particularly interested, v. his The that and the why.  (Who killed Cock Robin?, Where has my beloved gone?, How did he fix it?). The specifiers derivable from the schema provide only for yes/no interrogatives, though the figure could be quite easily amended so as to yield a restricted but very large class of x-interrogatives. Grice indicates how this could be done. The distinction between a buletic and a doxastic interrogative corresponds with the difference between a case in which the utterer U indicates that he is, in one way or another, concerned to obtain information (Is he at home?), and a case in which the utterer U indicates that he is concerned to settle a problem about what he is to do ‒ Am I to leave the door open?, Shall I go on reading? or, with an heterophoric Subjects, Is the prisoner to be released? This difference is fairly well represented in grammar, and much better represented in the grammars of some other languages. The hetero-phoric-cum-protreptic/auto-phoric-cum- exhibitive difference may not marked at all in this or that grammar, but it should be marked in Pirotese. This or that sub-mode is, however, often quite easily detectable. There is usually a recognizable difference between a case in which the utterer A says, musingly or reflectively, Is he to be trusted?  ‒ a case in which the utterer might say that he is just wondering  ‒ and a case in which he utters a token of the same sentence as an enquiry. Similarly, one can usually tell whether an utterer A who utters Shall I accept the invitation?  is just trying to make up his mind, or is trying to get advice or instruction from his addressee. The employment of the variable α needs to be explained. Grice borrows a little from an obscure branch of logic, once (but maybe no longer) practised, called, Grice thinks, proto-thetic ‒ Why? Because it deals with this or that first principle or axiom, or thesis), the main rite in which is to quantify over, or through, this or that connective. α is to have as its two substituents positively and negatively, which may modify either will or judge, negatively willing or negatively judging that p is judging or willing that ~p. The quantifier (∃1α) . . . has to be treated substitutionally. If, for example, I ask someone whether John killed Cock Robin (protreptic case), I do not want the addressee merely to will that I have a particular logical quality in mind which I believe to apply. I want the addressee to have one of the Qualities in mind which he wants me to believe to apply. To meet this demand, supplementation must drag back the quantifier. To extend the schema so as to provide specifiers for a single x-interrogative (i. e., a question like What did the butler see? rather than a question like Who went where with whom at 4 oclock yesterday afternoon?), we need just a little extra apparatus. We need to be able to superscribe a W in each interrogative operator e.g., together with the proviso that a radix which follows a superscribed operator must be an open radix, which contains one or more occurrences of just one free variable. And we need a chameleon variable λ, to occur only in this or that quantifier. (∃λ).Fx is to be regarded as a way of writing (∃x)Fx. (∃λ)Fy is a way of writing (∃y)Fy. To provide a specifier for a x-superscribed operator, we simply delete the appearances of α in the specifier for the corresponding un-superscribed operator, inserting instead the quantifier (∃1λ) () at the position previously occupied by (∃1α) (). E.g. the specifiers for Who killed Cock Robin?, used as an enquiry, would be: U to utter to A  killed Cock Robin if U wills A to judge U to will that (∃1λ) (A should will that U judges (x killed Cock Robin)); in which (∃1λ) takes on the shape (∃1x) since x is the free variable within its scope. Grice compares his buletic-doxastic distinction to prohairesis/doxa distinction by Aristotle in Ethica Nichomachea. Perhaps his simplest formalisation is via subscripts: I will-b but will-d not. Refs.: The main references are given above under ‘desirability.’ The most systematic treatment is the excursus in “Aspects,” Clarendon. BANC.

modified Occam’s razor: Grice loved a razor. The essay had circulated since the Harvard days, and it was also repr. in Pragmatics, ed. Cole for Academic Press. Personally, I prefer dialectica.  ‒ Grice. This is the third James lecture at Harvard. It is particularly useful for Grices introduction of his razor, M. O. R., or Modified Occams Razor, jocularly expressed by Grice as: Senses are not to be multiplied beyond necessity. An Englishing of the Ockhams Latinate, Entia non sunt multiplicanda præter necessitatem. But what do we mean sense. Surely Occam was right with his Entia non sunt multiplicanda præter necessitatem. We need to translate that alla linguistic turn. Grice jokes: Senses are not be multiplied beyond necessity. He also considers irony, stress (supra-segmental fourth-articulatory phonology), and truth, which the Grice Papers have under a special f. in the s. V . Three topics where the implicatum helps. He is a scoundrel may well be the implicatum of He is a fine friend. But cf. the pretense theory of irony. Grice, being a classicist, loved the etymological connection. With Stress, he was concerned with anti-Gettier uses of emphatic know: I KNOW. (Implicatum: I do have conclusive evidence). Truth (or  is true) sprang from the attention by Grice to that infamous Bristol symposium between Austin and Strawson. Cf. Moores paradox. Grice wants to defend correspondence theory of Austin against the performative approach of Strawson. If  is true implicates someone previously affirmed this, that does not mean a ditto implicatum is part of the entailment of a  is true utterance, further notes on logic and conversation, in Cole, repr. in a revised form, Modified Occams Razor, irony, stress, truth. The preferred citation should be the Harvard. This is originally the third James lecture, in a revised form.In that lecture, Grice introduced the M. O. R., or Modified Occams Razor. Senses are not be multiplied beyond necessity. The point is that entailment-cum-implicatum does the job that multiplied senses should not do! The Grice Papers contains in a different f. the concluding section for that lecture, on irony, stress, and truth. Grice went back to the Modified Occams razor, but was never able to formalise it! It is, as he concedes, almost a vacuous methodological thingy! It is interesting that the way he defines the alethic value of true alrady cites satisfactory. I shall use, to Names such a property, not true but factually satisfactory. Grices sympathies dont lie with Strawsons Ramsey-based redundance theory of truth, but rather with Tarskis theory of correspondence. He goes on to claim his trust in the feasibility of such a theory. It is, indeed, possible to construct a theory which treats truth as (primarily) a property, not true but factually satisfactory. One may see that point above as merely verbal and not involving any serious threat. Lets also assume that it will be a consequence, or theorem, of such a theory that there will be a class C of utterances (utterances of affirmative Subjects-predicate sentences [such as snow is white or the cat is on the mat of the dog is hairy-coated such that each member of C designates or refers to some item and indicates or predicates some class (these verbs to be explained within the theory), and is factually satisfactory if the item belongs to the class. Let us also assume that there can be a method of introducing a form of expression, it is true that /it is buletic that  and linking it with the notion of factually or alethic or doxastic satisfactory, a consequence of which will be that to say it is true that Smith is happy will be equivalent to saying that any utterance of class C which designates Smith and indicates the class of happy people is factually satisfactory (that is, any utterance which assigns Smith to the class of happy people is factually satisfactory. Mutatis mutandis for Let Smith be happy, and buletic satisfactoriness. The move is Tarskian. The two standard truth definitions are at first glance not definitions of truth at all, but definitions of a more complicated relation involving assignments of objects to variables: a satisfies the formula F, (where the symbol F is a placeholder for a Names of a particular formula of the object language). In fact satisfaction reduces to truth in this way: aa satisfies the formula FF if and only if taking each free variable in FF as a Names of the object assigned to it by aa makes the formula FF into a true sentence. So it follows that our intuitions about when a sentence is true can guide our intuitions about when an assignment satisfies a formula. But none of this can enter into the formal definition of truth, because taking a variable as a Names of an object is a semantic notion, and Tarskis truth definition has to be built only on notions from syntax and set theory (together with those in the object-language); In fact Tarskis reduction goes in the other direction: if the formula FF has no free variables, to say that FF is true is to say that every assignment satisfies it. The reason why Tarski defines satisfaction directly, and then deduces a definition of truth, is that satisfaction obeys recursive conditions in the following way. If FF is a compound formula, to know which assignments satisfy FF, its enough to know which assignments satisfy the immediate constituents of FF. Here are two typical examples: The assignment a satisfies the formula F and GG if and only if aa satisfies FF and aa satisfies GG. The assignment aa satisfies the formula For all xx, GG if and only if for every individual ii, if bb is the assignment that assigns ii to the variable xx and is otherwise exactly like aa, then bb satisfies GG. We have to use a different approach for atomic formulas. But for these, at least assuming for simplicity that LL has no function symbols, we can use the metalanguage copies #(R)#(R) of the predicate symbols RR of the object language. Thus The assignment aa SATSIFIES the formula R(x,y)R(x,y) if and only if #(R)(a(x),a(y))#(R)(a(x),a(y)). Warning: the expression ## is in the meta-meta-language, not in the meta-language MM. We may or may not be able to find a formula of MM that expresses ## for predicate symbols; it depends on exactly what the language LL is.). Subjects to this or that mild reservation, Tarskis definition of satisfaction is compositional, meaning that the class of assignments which satisfy a compound formula FF is determined solely by the syntactic rule used to construct FF from its immediate constituents and the classes of assignments that satisfy these immediate constituents. This is sometimes phrased loosely by saying that satisfaction is defined recursively. But this formulation misses the central point, that the above do not contain any syntactic information about the immediate constituents. Compositionality explains why Tarski switches from true to satisfied. You cant define whether For all x,Gx,G is true in terms of whether GG is true, because in general GG has a free variable xx and so it isnt either true or false. The reservation is that Tarskis definition of satisfaction in Tarskis essay doesnt in fact mention the class of assignments that satisfy a formula FF. Instead, as we saw, he defines the relation aa satisfies FF, which determines what that class is. This is probably the main reason why some people (including Tarski himself in conversation have preferred NOT to describe the definition as compositional. But the class format, which is compositional on any reckoning, does appear in an early variant of the truth definition in Tarskis essay on definable sets of real numbers. Tarski had a good reason for preferring the format aa satisfies FF in his essay, viz. that it allowed him to reduce the set-theoretic requirements of the truth definition. He spells out these requirements carefully. Compositionality first appears in an essay by Putnam. In talking about compositionality, we have moved to thinking of Tarskis definition as a semantics, i.e. a way of assigning meanings to formulas. Here we take the meaning of a sentence to be its truth value. Compositionality means essentially that the meanings assigned to formulas give at least enough information to determine the truth values of sentences containing them. One can ask conversely whether Tarskis semantics provides only as much information as we need about each formula, in order to reach the truth values of sentences. If the answer is yes, we say that the semantics is fully abstract (for truth). One can show fairly easily, for any of the standard languages of logic, that Tarskis definition of satisfaction is in fact fully abstract. As it stands, Tarskis definition of satisfaction is not an explicit definition, because satisfaction for one formula is defined in terms of satisfaction for other formulas. So to show that it is formally correct, we need a way of converting it to an explicit definition. One way to do this is as follows, using either higher order logic or set theory. Suppose we write SS for a binary relation between assignments and formulas. We say that SS is a satisfaction relation if for every formula G, SG, S meets the conditions put for satisfaction of GG by Tarskis definition. E.g., if GG is G1G1 and G2G2, SS should satisfy the following condition for every assignment aa: S(a, G) if and only if S(a, G1) and S(a, G2).S (a, G) if and only if S(a, G1) and S(a, G2). We can define satisfaction relation formally, using the recursive clauses and the conditions for atomic formulas in Tarskis recursive definition. Now we prove, by induction on the complexity of formulas, that there is exactly one satisfaction relation SS. There are some technical subtleties, but it can be done. Finally we define aa satisfies FF if and only if: there is a satisfaction relation SS such that S (a, F) S (a, F). It is then a technical exercise to show that this definition of satisfaction is materially adequate. Actually one must first write out the counterpart of Convention TT for satisfaction of formulas, but I leave this to the reader. The remaining truth definition in Tarskis essay  – the third as they appear in the essay – is really a bundle of related truth definitions, all for the same object-language LL but in different interpretations. The quantifiers of LL are assumed to range over a particular class, call it AA; in fact they are second order quantifiers, so that really they range over the collection of subclasses of AA. The class AA is not Namesd explicitly in the object language, and thus one can give separate truth definitions for different values of AA, as Tarski proceeds to do. So for this section of the paper, Tarski allows one and the same sentence to be given different interpretations; this is the exception to the general claim that his object language sentences are fully interpreted. But Tarski stays on the straight and narrow: he talks about truth only in the special case where AA is the class of all individuals. For other values of AA, he speaks not of truth but of correctness in the domain AA. These truth or correctness definitions dont fall out of a definition of satisfaction. In fact they go by a much less direct route, which Tarski describes as a purely accidental possibility that relies on the specific peculiarities of the particular object language. There is no hope of giving a definition of satisfaction by recursion on the complexity of formulas. The remedy is to note that the explicit form of Tarskis truth definition in Section 2.1 above didnt require a recursive definition; it needed only that the conditions on the satisfaction relation SS pin it down uniquely. For Henkins first style of language this is still true, though the reason is no longer the well-foundedness of the syntax. For Henkins second style of language, at least in the notation by Hintikka (independence friendly logic), the syntax is well-founded, but the displacement of the quantifier scopes means that the usual quantifier clauses in the definition of satisfaction no longer work. How can we analyze satisfaction? The answer to this question is in some ways reminiscent to our answer of how to construct a theory of truth for a language with only finitely many sentences. So see how, first suppose that our language has only three Namess and three predicates, Bob, Jane, and Nancy and is nice, is mean, and is lazy. We can then give the following analysis, indeed, definition, of satisfaction. An item I satisfies predicate p ≡df [(p=is nice and i is nice) ∨ (n=is mean and i is mean) ∨ (n=is lazy and i is lazy)] There is an analogy between the material-adequacy constraint which Tarski set on the theory of truth, and similar constraints which we should expect a definition of satisfaction to meet. Just as a theory of truth should imply every instance of S is 1 in L iff S so we should expect our theory of satisfaction to imply every instance of the following schema. I satisfies is F in L iff i is F. We arrive at Tarskis first-order definition as a definition of satisfaction which makes no use of concepts other than those employed in the object-language itself. By stress, Grice means suprasegmental phonology, but he was too much of a philosopher to let that jargon affect him! Refs.: The locus classicus, if that does not sound too pretentious, is Essay 3 in WoW, but there are references elsewhere, such as in “Meaning Revisited,” and under ‘semantics.’

myth: Grice knows a little about Descartess “Discours de la methode,” and he is also aware of similar obsession by Collingwood with philosopical methodology. Grice would joke on midwifery, as the philosopher’s apter method at Oxford: to strangle error at its birth. Grice typifies a generation at Oxford. While he did not socialize with the crème de la crème in pre-war Oxford, he shared some their approach. E.g. a love affair with Russell’s logical construction. After the war, and in retrospect, Grice liked to associate himself with Austin. He obviously felt the need to belong to a group, to make a difference, to make history. Many participants of the play group saw themselves as doing philosophy, rather than reading about it! It was long after that Grice started to note the differences in methodology between Austin and himself. His methodology changed a little. He was enamoured with formalism for a while, and he grants that this love never ceased. In a still later phase, he came to realise that his way of doing philosophy was part of literature (essay writing). And so he started to be slightly more careful about his style – which some found florid. The stylistic concerns were serious. Oxonian philosophers like Holloway had been kept away from philosophy because of the stereotype that the Oxonian philosophers style is pedantic, when it neednt! A philosopher should be allowed, as Plato was, to use a myth, if he thinks his tutee will thank him for that! Grice loved to compare his Oxonian dialectic with Platos Athenian (strictly, Academic) dialectic. Indeed, there is some resemblance of the use of myth in Plato and Grice for philosophical methodological purposes. Grice especially enjoys a myth in his programme in philosophical psychology. In this, he is very much being a philosopher. Non-philosophers usually criticise this methodological use of a myth, but they would, wouldnt they. Grice suggests that a myth has diagogic relevance. Creature construction, the philosopher as demi-god, if mythical, is an easier way for a philosophy don to instil his ideas on his tutee than, say, privileged access and incorrigibility. Refs.: The main source is Grice’s essay on ‘myth’, in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

negation: as a unary functor, Grice’s interest in ‘not’ was cenral. A bit of palæo-Griceian history is in order. Sheffer, defines ‘not’ and negation in terms of incompatibility in ‘A set of five independent postulates for Boolean algebras, with application to logical constants,’ Trans. American Mathematical Society. Grice does refers to ‘the strokes.’ His use of the plural is interesting as a nod to Peirce’s minute logic in his ‘Boolian [sic] algebra with one constant.’ There is indeed Peirce’s stroke, or ampheck (↓), Sheffer’s stroke (|, /, ↑), and and Quine’s stroke (†, strictly Quine’s dagger). Some philosophers prefer to refer to Peirces Stroke as Peirce’s arrow, or strictly stressed double-edged sword. His editors disambiguate his ampheck, distinguishing between the dyadic functor or connective equivalent to Sheffer’s stroke and ‘nor.’ While Whitehead, Russell, and Witters love Sheffer’s stroke, Hilbert does not: ‘‘p/p’ ist dann gleichbedeutend mit ‘X̄.’ Grice explores primitiveness. It is possible, to some extent, to qualify this or that device in terms of primitiveness. As regards ‘not,’ if a communication-system did not contain a unitary negative device, there would be many things that communicators can now communicate that they would be then unable to communicate. He has two important caveats. That would be the case unless, first, the communication-system contained some very artificial-seeming connective like one or other of the strokes, and, second, communicators put themselves to a good deal of trouble, as Plato does in ‘The Sophist’ with ‘diaphoron,’ that Wiggins symbolises with ‘Δ,’ to find, more or less case by case, complicated forms of expression, not necessarily featuring a connective, but involving such expressions as ‘other than’or ‘incompatible with.’ Grice further refers to Aristotle’s ‘apophasis’ in De Int.17a25. Grice, always lured by the potentiality of a joint philosophical endeavour, treasures his collaboration with Strawson that is followed by one with Austin on Cat. and De Int. So what does Aristotle say in De Int.? Surely Aristotle could have started by referring to Plato’s Parmenides, aptly analysed by Wiggins. Since Aristotle is more of a don than a poet, he has to give ‘not’ a name: ‘ἀπόφασις ἐστιν ἀπόφανσίς τινος ἀπό τινος,’a predication of one thing away from another, i.e. negation of it. This is Grice’s reflection, in a verificationist vein, of two types of this or that negative utterance. His immediate trigger is Ryle’s contribution on a symposium on Bradley’s idea of an internal relation, where Grice appeals to Peirce’s incompatibility. ‘The proposition ‘This is red’ is imcompatible with the proposition, ‘This is not coloured.’ While he uses a souly verb or predicate for one of them, Grice will go back to the primacy of ‘potching’ at a later stage. A P potches that the obble is not fang, but feng. It is convenient to introduce this or that soul-state, ψ, sensing that …, or perceiving that … Grice works mainly with two scenarios, both involved with the first-person singular pronoun ‘I’ with which he is obsessed. Grice’s first scenario concerns a proposition that implies another proposition featuring ‘someone, viz. I,’ the first-person singular pronoun as subject, a sensory modal verb, and an object, the proposition, it is not the case that ‘the α is φ₁.’ The denotatum of the first-person pronoun perceives that a thing displays this or the visual sense-datum of a colour, and the corresponding sensory modal predicate. Via a reductive (but not reductionist) analysis, we get that, by uttering ‘It is not the case that I see that the pillar box is blue,’ the utterer U means, i. e. m-intends his addressee A to believe, U he sees that the pillar box is red. U’s source, reason, ground, knowledge, or belief, upon which he bases his uttering his utterance is U’s *indirect* mediated actual experience, belief, or knowledge, linked to a sense-datum φ₂ (red) other than φ₁ (blue). Grice’s second scenario concerns a proposition explicitly featuring the first-person singular pronoun, an introspection, involving an auditory sense-datum of a noise. Via reductive (but not reductionist) analysis, we get that, by uttering ‘It is not the case that I hear that the bell tolls in Gb,’ U means that he lacks the experience of hearing that the bell tolls simpliciter. U’s source, reason, ground, knowledge, or belief, upon which he bases his uttering his utterance is the *direct* unmediated felt absence, or absentia, or privatio or privation, or apophasis, verified by introspection, of the co-relative ψ, which Grice links to the absence of the experience, belief, or knowledge, of the sense-datum, the apophasis of the experience, which is thereby negated. In either case, Grice’s analysans do not feature ‘not.’ Grice turns back to the topic in seminars later at Oxford in connection with Strawson’s cursory treatment of ‘not’ in “Logical Theory.”‘Not’ (and ~.) is the first pair, qua unary satisfactory-value-functor (unlike this or that dyadic co-ordinate, and, or, or the dyadic sub-ordinate if) in Grice’s list of this or that vernacular counterpart attached to this or that formal device. Cf. ‘Smith has not ceased from eating iron,’ in ‘Causal theory.’ In the fourth James lecture, Grice explores a role for negation along the lines of Wilson’s Statement and Inference.’ Grice’s ‘Vacuous Names’ contains Gentzen-type syntactic inference rules for both ‘not’’s introduction (+, ~) and the elimination (-, ~) and the correlative value assignation. Note that there are correlative rules for Peirce’s arrow. Grice’s motivation is to qualify ‘not’ with a subscript scope-indicating device on ~ for a tricky case like ‘The climber of Mt. Everest on hands and knees is not to atttend the party in his honour.’ The logical form becomes qualified: ‘~₂(Marmaduke Bloggs is coming)₁’, or ‘~₂(Pegasus flies)₁.’ generic formula is ~₂p₁, which indicates that p is introduced prior to ~. In the earlier James lectures he used the square bracket device. The generic formula being ‘~[p],’ where [p] reads that p is assigned common-ground status. Cancelling the implicata may be trickier. ‘It is not the case that I hear that the bell tolls because it is under reparation.’ ‘That is not blue; it’s an optical illusion.’ Cf. Grice on ‘It is an illusion. What is it?’ Cf. The king of France is not bald because there is no king of France. In Presupposition, the fourth Urbana lecture, Grice uses square brackets for the subscript scope indicating device. ‘Do not arrest [the intruder]!,’ the device meant to assign common-ground status. In ‘Method” Grice plays with the internalisation of a pre-theoretical concept of not within the scope of ‘ψ.’ In the Kant lectures on “Aspects,” Grice explores ‘not’ within the scope of this or that mode operator, as in the buletic utterance, ‘Do not arrest the intruder!’ Is that internal narrow scope, ‘!~p,’ or external wide scope, ‘~!p’? Grice also touches on this or that mixed-mode utterance, and in connection with the minor problem of presupposition within the scope of an operator other than the indicative-mode operator. ‘Smith has not ceased from eating iron, because Smith does not exist ‒ cf. Hamlet sees that his father is on the rampants, but the sight is not reciprocated ‒ Macbeth sees that Banquo is near him, but his vision is not reciprocated. Grice is having in mind Hare’s defense of a non-doxastic utterance. In his commentary in PGRICE, Grice expands on this metaphysical construction routine of Humeian projection with the pre-intuitive concept of  ‘not,’ specifying the different stages the intuitive concept undergoes until it becomes fully rationally recostructed, as something like a Fregeian sense. In the centerpiece lecture of the William James set, Grice explores Wilson’s Statement and inference to assign a métier to ‘not,’ and succeeds in finding one. The conversational métier of ‘not’ is explained in terms of the conversational implicatum. By uttering ‘Smith has not been to prison yet,’ U implies that some utterer has, somewhere, sometime, expressed an opinion to the contrary. This is connected by Grice with the ability a rational creature has to possess to survive. The creature has to be able, as Sheffer notes, to deny this or that. Grices notable case is the negation of a conjunction. So it may well be that the most rational role for ‘not’ is not primary in that it is realised once less primitive operators are introduced. Is there a strict conceptual distinction, as Grice suggests, between negation and privation? If privation involves or presupposes negation, one might appeal to something like Modified Occam’s Razor (M. O. R.), do not multiply negations beyond necessity. In his choice of examples, Grice seems to be implicating negation for an empirically verifiable, observational utterance, such as U does not see that the pillar box is blue not because U does not exist, but on the basis of U’s experiencing, knowing, believing and indeed seeing that the pillar box is red. This is a negation, proper, or simpliciter (even if it involves a sense-datum phi2 incompatible with sense-datum phi1. Privation, on the other hand, would be involved in an utterance arrived via introspection, such as U does not hear that the bell is ringing on the basis of his knowing that he is aware of the absence, simpliciter, of an experience to that effect. Aristotle, or some later Aristotelian, may have made the same distinction, within apophasis between negation or negatio and privation or privatio. Or not. Of course, Grice is ultimately looking for the rationale behind the conversational implicatum in terms of a principle of conversational helpfulness underlying his picture of conversation as rational co-operation. To use his Pological jargon in Method, in Pirotese and Griceish There is the P₁, who potches that the obble is not fang, but feng. P₁ utters p explicitly conveying that p. P₂ alternatively feels like negating that. By uttering ~p, P₂ explicitly conveys that ~p. P₁ volunteers to P₂, ~p, explicitly conveying that ~p. Not raining! Or No bull. You are safe. Surely a rational creature should be capable to deny this or that, as Grice puts it in Indicative conditionals. Interestingly, Grice does not consider, as Gazdar does, under Palmer), he other possible unitary functors (three in a standard binary assignation of values) – just negation, which reverses the satisfactory-value of the radix or neustic.  In terms of systematics, thus, it is convenient to regard Grices view on negation and privation as his outlook on the operators as this or that procedure by the utterer that endows him with this or that basic expressive, operative power. In this case, the expressive power is specifically related to his proficiency with not. The proficiency is co-related with this or that device in general, whose vernacular expression will bear a formal counterpart. Many of Grices comments addressed to this more general topic of this or that satisfactoriness-preserving operator apply to not, and thus raise the question about the explicitum or explicatum of not. A Griceian should not be confused. The fact that Grice does not explicitly mention not or negation when exploring the concept of a generic formal device does not mean that what he says about formal device may not be particularised to apply to not or negation. His big concession is that Whitehead and Russell (and Peano before them) are right about the explicitum or explicatum of not being ~, even if Grice follows Hilbert and Ackermann in dismissing Peirces arrow for pragmatic reasons. This is what Grice calls the identity thesis to oppose to Strawsons divergence thesis between not and ~. More formally, by uttering Not-p, U explicitly conveys that ~p. Any divergence is explained via the implicatum. A not utterance is horribly uninformative, and not each of them is of philosophical interest. Grice joked with Bradley and Searles The man in the next table is not lighting the cigarette with a twenty-dollar bill, the denotatum of the Subjects being a Texas oilman in his country club. The odd implicatum is usually to the effect that someone thought otherwise. In terms of Cook Wilson, the role of not has more to do with the expressive power of a rational creature to deny a molecular or composite utterance such as p and q Grice comments that in the case of or, the not may be addressed, conversationally, to the utterability of the disjunction. His example involves the logical form Not (p or q). It is not the case that Wilson or Heath will be prime minister. Theres always hope for Nabarro or Thorpe.  The utterer is, at the level of the implicatum, not now contradicting what his co-conversationalist has utterered. The utterer is certainly not denying that Wilson will be Prime Minister. It is, rather, that the utterer U wishes not to assert or state, say, what his co-conversant has asserted, but, instead, to substitute a different statement or claim which the utterer U regards as preferable under the circumstances. Grice calls this substitutive disagreement. This was a long-standing interest of Grices: an earlier manuscript reads Wilson or MacMillan will be prime minister. Lets take a closer look at the way Grice initially rephrases his two scenarios involving not as attached to an auditory and a visual sense datum. I do not hear that the bell is ringing is rationally justified by the absence or absentia of the experience of hearing it. I do not see that the pillar box is blue is rationally justified by Us sensing that the pillar box is red. The latter depends on Kants concept of the synthetic a priori with which Grice tests with his childrens playmates. Can a sweater be red and green all over? No stripes allowed! Can a pillar box be blue and red all over? Cf. Ryles symposium on negation with Mabbott, for the Aristotelian Society, a source for Grices reflexion. Ryle later discussing Bradleys internal relations, reflects that that the proposition, This pillar box is only red is incompatible with This pillar box is only blue. As bearing this or that conversational implicata, Grices two scenarios can be re-phrased, unhelpfully, as I am unhearing a noise and That is  unred. The apparently unhelpful point bears however some importance. It shows that negation and not are not co-extensive. The variants also demonstrate that the implicatum, qua conversational, rather than conventional, is non-detachable. Not is hardly primtive pure Anglo-Saxon. It is the rather convoluted abbreviation of ne-aught. Its ne that counts as the proper, pure, amorphous Anglo-Saxon negation, as in a member of parliament (if not a horse) uttering nay.  Grices view of conversation as rational co-operation, as displayed in this or that conversational implicatum necessitates that the implicatum is never attached to this or that expression. Here the favoured, but not exclusive expression, is not, since Strawson uses it. But the vernacular provides a wealth of expressive ways to be negative! Grice possibly chose negation not because, as with this or that nihilistic philosopher, such as Schopenhauer, or indeed Parmenides, he finds the concept a key one. But one may well say that this is the Schopenhauerian or the Parmenidesian in Griceian. Grice is approaching not in linguistic, empiricist, or conceptual key. He is applying the new Oxonian methodology: the reductive analysis in terms of Russells logical construction. Grices implied priority is with by uttering x, by which U explicitly conveys that ~p, U implicitly conveys that q. The essay thus elaborates on this implicated q. For the record, nihilism was coined by philosopher Jacobi, while the more primitive negatio and privatio is each a time-honoured item in the philosophical lexicon, with which mediaeval this or that speculative grammarian is especially obsessed. Negatio translates Aristotles apophasis, and has a pretty pedigreed history. The philosophical lexicon has nĕgātĭo, f. negare, which L and S, unhelpfully, render as a denying, denial, negation, Cicero, Sull. 13, 39: negatio inficiatioque facti, id. Part. 29, 102. L and S go on to add that negatio is predicated of to the expression that denies, a negative. Grice would say that L and S should realise that its the utterer who denies. The source L and S give is ADogm. Plat. 3, p. 32, 38. As for Grices other word, there is  prīvātĭo, f. privare, which again unhelpfully, L and S render as a taking away, privation of a thing. doloris, Cic. Fin. 1, 11, 37, and 38, or pain-free, as Grice might prefer, cf. zero-tolerance. L and S also cite: 2, 9, 28: culpæ, Gell. 2, 6, 10. The negatio-privatio distinction is perhaps not attested in Grecian The Grecians seem to have felt happy with ἀπόφασις, (A), from ἀπόφημι, which now L and S unhepfully render as denial, negation, adding oκατάφασις, for which they cites from Platos Sophista (263e), to  give then the definition ἀπόφασις ἐστιν ἀπόφανσίς τινος ἀπό τινος, a predication of one thing away from another, i.e. negation of it, for which they provide the source that Grice is relying.  on: Arist. Int.17a25, cf. APo. 72a14; ἀπόφασις τινός, negation, exclusion of a thing,  Pl. Cra. 426d; δύο ἀ. μίαν κατάφασιν ἀποτελοῦσι Luc. Gall.11. If he was not the first to explore philosophically negation, Grice may be regarded as a philosopher who most explored negation as occurring in a that-clause followed by a propositional complexus that contains ~, and as applied to a personal agent, in a lower branch of philosophical psychology. It is also the basis for his linguistic botany. He seems to be trying to help other philosopher not to fall in the trap of thinking that not has a special sense. The utterer means that ~p. In what ways is that to be interpreted? Grice confessed to never been impressed by Ayer. The crudities and dogmatisms seemed too pervasive. Is Grice being an empiricist and a verificationist? Let us go back to This is not red and I am not hearing a noise. Grices suggestion is that the incompatible fact offering a solution to this problem is the fact that the utterer of Someone, viz. I, does not hear that the bell tolls is indicating (and informing) that U merely entertains the positive (affirmative) proposition, Someone, viz. I, hears that the bell tolls, without having an attitude of certainty towards it. More generally, Grice is proposing, like Bradley and indeed Bosanquet, who Grice otherwise regards as a minor philosopher, a more basic Subjects-predicate utterance. The α is not β. The utterer states I do not know that α is β if and only if every present mental or souly process, of mine, has some characteristic incompatible with the knowledge that α is β. One may propose a doxastic weaker version, replacing the dogmatic Oxonian know with believe. Grices view of compatibility is an application of the Sheffer stroke that Grice will later use in accounts of not. ~p iff p|p or ~p ≡df p|p. But then, as Grice points out, Sheffer is hardly Griceian. If Pirotese did not contain a unitary negative device, there would be many things that a P should be able to express that the P should be unable to express unless Pirotese contained some very artificially-looking dyadic functor like one or other of the strokes, or the P put himself to a good deal of trouble to find, more or less case by case, complicated forms of expression, as Platos Parmenides does, involving such expressions as other than, or incompatible with. V. Wiggins on Platos Parmenides in a Griceian key. Such a complicate form of expression would infringe the principle of conversational helpfulness, notably in its desideratum of conversational clarity, or conversational perspicuity [sic], where the sic is Grices seeing that unsensitive Oxonians sometimes mistake perspicuity for the allegedly, cognate perspicacity (L. perspicacitas, like perspicuitas, from perspicere). Grice finds the unitary brevity of not-p attractive. Then theres the pretty Griceian idea of the pregnant proposition. Im not hearing a nose is pregnant, as Occam has it, with I am hearing a noise. A scholastic and mediæval philosopher loves to be figurative. Grices main proposal may be seen as drawing on this or that verificationist assumption by Ayer, who actually has a later essay on not falsely connecting it with falsity. Grices proposed better analysis would please Ayer, had Grice been brought on the right side of the tracks, since it can be Subjectsed to a process of verification, on the understanding that either perception through the senses (It is red) or introspection (Every present mental or souly process of mine ) is each an empirical phenomenon. But there are subtleties to be drawn. At Oxford, Grices view on negation will influence philosophers like Wiggins, and in a negative way, Cohen, who raises the Griceian topic of the occurrence of negation in embedded clauses, found by Grice to be crucial for the rational genitorial justification of not as a refutation of the composite p and q), and motivating Walker with a reply (itself countered by Cohen  ‒ Can the conversationalist hypothesis be defended?). So problems are not absent, as they should not! Grice re-read Peirces definition or reductive analysis of not and enjoyed it!  Peirce discovers the logical connective Grice calls the Sheffer Stroke, as well as the related connective nor (also called Joint Denial, and quite appropriately Peirces Arrow, with other Namess in use being Quines Arrow or Quines Dagger and today usually symbolized by “/”). The relevant manuscript, numbered MS 378 in a subsequent edition and titled A Boolian [sic] Algebra with One Constant, MS 378, was actually destined for discarding and was salvaged for posterity A fragmentary text by Peirce also shows familiarity with the remarkable meta-logical characteristics that make a single function functionally complete, and this is also the case with Peirces unfinished Minute Logic: these texts are published posthumously. Peirce designates the two truth functions, nand and nor, by using the symbol “” which he called ampheck, coining this neologism from the Grecian ἀμφήκης, of equal length in both directions. Peirces editors disambiguate the use of symbols by assigning “” to the connective we call Sheffers troke while preserving the symbol /  for nor.   In MS 378, A Boolian Algebra with One Constant, by Peirce, tagged “to be discarded” at the Department of Philosophy at Harvard, Peirce reduces the number of logical operators to one constant. Peirce states that his notation uses the minimum number of different signs and shows for the first time the possibility of writing both universal and particular propositions with but one copula. Peirce’s notation is later termed Sheffers stroke, and is also well-known as the nand operation, in Peirce’s terms the operation by which two propositions written in a pair are considered to be both denied. In the same manuscript, Peirce also discovers what is the expressive completeness of ‘nor,’ indeed today rightly recognized as the Peirce arrow. Like Sheffer, of Cornell, independently does later (only to be dismissed by Hilbert and Ackermann), Peirce understands that these two connectives can be used to reduce all mathematically definable connectives (also called primitives and constants) of propositional logic. This means that all definable connectives of propositional logic can be defined by using only Sheffers stroke or nor as the single connective. No other connective (or associated function) that takes one or two variables as inputs has this property. Standard, two-valued propositional logic has no unary functions that have the remarkable property of functional completeness. At first blush, availability of this option ensures that economy of resources can be obtained—at least in terms of how many functions or connectives are to be included as undefined. Unfortunately, as Grice, following Hilbert and Ackermann realise, there is a trade-off between this philosophical semantic gain in economy of symbolic resources and the pragmatically unwieldy length and rather counterintuitive, to use Grices phrase, appearance of the formulas that use only the one connective.  It is characteristic of his logical genius, however, and emblematic of his rather under-appreciated, surely not by Grice, contributions to the development of semiotics that Peirce grasps the significance of functional completeness and figure out what truth functions — up to arity 2 — are functionally complete for two-valued propositional logic, never mind helping the philosopher to provide a reductive analysis of negation that Grice is looking for. Strictly, this is the property of weak functional completeness, given that we disregard whether constants or zero-ary functions like 1 or 0 can be defined. Peirce subscribes to a semeiotic view, popular in the Old World with Ogden and Welby, and later Grice, according to which the fundamental nature and proper tasks of the formal study of communication are defined by the rules set down for the construction and manipulation of symbolic resources. A proliferation of symbols for the various connectives that are admitted into the signature of a logical system suffers from a serious defect on this view. The symbolic grammar fails to match or represent the logical fact of interdefinability of the connectives, and reductive analysis of all to one. Peirce is willing sometimes to accept constructing a formal signature for two-valued propositional logic by using the two-members set of connectives, which is minimally functionally complete. This means that these two connectives — or, if we are to stick to an approach that emphasizes the notational character of logical analysis, these two symbols —are adequate expressively. Every mathematically definable connective of the logic can be defined by using only these two. And the set is minimally functionally complete in that neither of these connectives can be defined by the other (so, as we say, they are both independent relative to each other.) The symbol   can be viewed as representing a constant truth function (either unary or binary) that returns the truth value 0 for any input or inputs. Or it can be regarded as a constant, which means that it is a zero=ary (zero-input) function, a degenerate function, which refers to the truth value 0. Although not using, as Grice does, Peanos terminology, Peirce takes the second option. This set has cardinality 2 (it has exactly 2 members) but it is not the best we can do. Peirces discovery of what we have called the Sheffer functions or strokes (anachronistically and unfairly to Peirce, as Grice notes, but bowing to convention) shows that we can have a set of cardinality 1 (a one-member set or a so-called singleton) that is minimally functionally complete with respect to the definable connectives of two-valued propositional logic. Thus, either one of the following sets can do. The sets are functionally complete and, because they have only one member each, we say that the connectives themselves have the property of functional completeness. / is the symbol of Sheffers stroke or nand and /is the symbol of the Peirce Arrow or nor. Grice stipulates as such, even though he does not introduce his grammar formally. It is important to show ow these functions can define other functions. Algebraically approached, this is a matter of functional composition In case one wonders why the satisfaction with defining the connectives of the set that comprises the symbols for negation, inclusive disjunction, and conjunction, Namesly , there is an explanation. There is an easy, although informal, way to show that this set is functionally complete. It is not minimally functionally complete because nor and nand are inter-definable. But it is functionally complete. Thus, showing that one can define these functions suffices for achieving functional completeness. Definability should be thought as logical equivalence. One connective can be defined by means of others if and only if the formulae in the definition (what is defined and what is doing the defining) are logically equivalent. Presuppose the truth-tabular definitions of the connectives.  Grice enjoyed that. Meanwhile, at Corpus, Grice is involved in serious philosophical studies under the tutelage of Hardie. While his philosophical socialising is limited, having been born on the wrong side of the tracks, first at Corpus, and then at Merton, and ending at St. Johns, Grice fails to attend the seminal meetings at All Souls held on Thursday evenings by the play group of the seven (Austin, Ayer, Berlin, Hampshire, MacDermott, MacNabb, and Woozley). Three of them will join Grice in the new play group after the war: Austin, Hampshire, and Woozley. But at St. Johns Grice tutors Strawson, and learns all about the linguistic botany methodology on his return from the navy. Indeed, his being appointed Strawson as his tutee starts a life-long friendship and collaboration. There are separate entries for the connectives: conjunction, disjunction, and conditional. Refs.: Allusions to negation are scattered, notably in Essay 4 in WoW, but also in “Method in philosophical psychology,” and “Prejudices and predilections” (repr. in “Conception”), and under semantics and syntax. There are specific essays of different dates, in s. V, in two separate folders, in BANC.

objectivism: Grice reads Meinong on objectivity and finds it funny! Meinong distinguishes four classes of objects: ‘Objekt,’ simpliciter, which can be real (like horses) or ideal (like the concepts of difference, identity, etc.) and “Objectiv,” e.g. the affirmation of the being (Sein) or non-being (Nichtsein), of a being-such (Sosein), or a being-with (Mitsein) - parallel to existential, categorical and hypothetical judgements. An “Objectiv” is close to what contemporary philosophers call states of affairs (where these may be actual—may obtain—or not). The third class is the dignitative, e.g. the true, the good, the beautiful. Finally, there is the desiderative, e.g. duties, ends, etc. To these four classes of objects correspond four classes of psychological acts:  (re)presentation (das Vorstellen), for objects thought (das Denken), for the objectives feeling (das Fühlen), for dignitatives desire (das Begehren), for the desideratives. Grice starts with subjectivity. Objectivity can be constructed as non-relativised subjectivity. Grice discusses of Inventing right and wrong by Mackie. In the proceedings, Grice quotes the artless sexism of Austin in talking about the trouser words in Sense and Sensibilia. Grice tackles all the distinctions Mackie had played with: objective/Subjectsive, absolute/relative, categorical/hypothetical or suppositional. Grice quotes directly from Hare: Think of one world into whose fabric values are objectively built; and think of another in which those values have been annihilated. And remember that in both worlds the people in them go on being concerned about the same things—there is no difference in the Subjectsive value. Now I ask, what is the difference between the states of affairs in these two worlds? Can any answer be given except, none whatever? Grice uses the Latinate objective (from objectum). Cf. Hare on what he thinks the oxymoronic sub-jective value. Grice considered more seriously than Barnes did the systematics behind Nicolai Hartmanns stratification of values. Refs.: the most explicit allusion is a specific essay on “objectivity” in The H. P. Grice Papers. Most of the topic is covered in “Conception,” Essay 1. BANC.

ontogenesis. it is interesting that Grice was always enquiring his childrens playmates: Can a sweater be red and green all over? No stripes allowed! One found a developmental account of the princile of conversational helpfulness boring, or as he said, "dull." Refs.: There is an essay on the semantics of children’s language, BANC.

oratio obliqua: Grice was especially concerned that buletic verbs usually do not take a that-clause (but cf. James: I will that the distant table sides over the floor toward me. It does not!). Also that seems takes a that-clause in ways that might not please Maucalay. Grice had explored that-clauses with Staal. He was concerned about the viability of an initially appealing etymological approach by Davidson to the that-clause in terms of demonstration. Grice had presupposed the logic of that-clauses from a much earlier stage, Those spots mean that he has measles.The f. contains a copy of Davidsons essay, On saying that, the that-clause, the that-clause, with Staal . Davidson quotes from Murray et al. The Oxford English Dictionary, Oxford. Cf. Onions, An Advanced English Syntax, and remarks that first learned that that in such contexts evolved from an explicit demonstrative from Hintikkas Knowledge and Belief. Hintikka remarks that a similar development has taken place in German Davidson owes the reference to the O.E.D. to Stiezel. Indeed Davidson was fascinated by the fact that his conceptual inquiry repeated phylogeny. It should come as no surprise that a that-clause utterance evolves through about the stages our ruminations have just carried us. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the use of that in a that-clause is generally held to have arisen out of the demonstrative pronoun pointing to the clause which it introduces. The sequence goes as follows. He once lived here: we all know that; that, now this, we all know: he once lived here; we all know that, or this: he once lived here; we all know that he once lived here. As Hintikka notes, some pedants trying to display their knowledge of German, use a comma before that: We all know, that he once lived here, to stand for an earlier :: We all know: that he once lived here. Just like the English translation that, dass can be omitted in a sentence. Er glaubt, dass die Erde eine Scheibe sei. He believes that the Earth is a disc. Er glaubt, die Erde sei eine Scheibe. He believes the Earth is a disc. The that-clause is brought to the fore by Davidson, who, consulting the OED, reminds philosophers that the English that is very cognate with the German idiom. More specifically, that is a demonstrative, even if the syntax, in English, hides this fact in ways which German syntax doesnt. Grice needs to rely on that-clauses for his analysis of mean, intend, and notably will. He finds that Prichards genial discovery was the license to use willing as pre-facing a that-clause. This allows Grice to deals with willing as applied to a third person. I will that he wills that he wins the chess match. Philosophers who disregard this third-person use may indulge in introspection and Subjectsivism when they shouldnt! Grice said that Prichard had to be given great credit for seeing that the accurate specification of willing should be willing that and not willing to. Analogously, following Prichard on willing, Grice does not stipulate that the radix for an intentional (utterer-oriented or exhibitive-autophoric-buletic) incorporate a reference to the utterer (be in the first person), nor that the radix for an imperative (addressee-oriented or hetero-phoric protreptic buletic) or desiderative in general, incorporate a reference of the addressee (be in the second person). They shall not pass is a legitimate intentional as is the ‘you shall not get away with it,’either involves Prichards wills that, rather than wills to). And the sergeant is to muster the men at dawn (uttered by a captain to a lieutenant) is a perfectly good imperative, again involving Prichards wills that, rather than wills to. Refs.: The allusions are scattered, but there are specific essays, one on the ‘that’-clause, and also discussions on Davidson on saying that. There is a reference to ‘oratio obliqua’ and Prichard in “Uncertainty,” BANC.

oxonianism: Grice cannot possibly claim to talk about post-war Oxford philosophy, but his own! Cf. Oxfords post-war philosophy.  What were Grices first impressions when arriving at Oxford. He was going to learn. Only the poor learn at Oxford was an adage he treasured, since he wasnt one! Let us start with an alphabetical listing of Grices Play Group companions: Austin, Butler, Flew, Gardiner, Grice, Hare, Hampshire, Hart, Nowell-Smith, Parkinson, Paul, Pears, Quinton, Sibley, Strawson, Thomson, Urmson, and Warnock.  Grices main Oxonian association is St. Johns, Oxford. By Oxford Philosophy, Grice notably refers to Austins Play Group, of which he was a member. But Grice had Oxford associations pre-war, and after the demise of Austin. But back to the Play Group, this, to some, infamous, playgroup, met on Saturday mornings at different venues at Oxford, including Grices own St. John’s ‒ apparently, Austins favourite venue. Austin regarded himself and his kindergarten as linguistic or language botanists. The idea was to list various ordinary uses of this or that philosophical notion. Austin: They say philosophy is about language; well, then, let’s botanise! Grices involvement with Oxford philosophy of course predated his associations with Austins play group. He always said he was fortunate of having been a tutee to Hardie at Corpus. Corpus, Oxford. Grice would occasionally refer to the emblematic pelican, so prominently displayed at Corpus. Grice had an interim association with the venue one associates most directly with philosophy, Merton ‒: Grice, Merton, Oxford. While Grice loved to drop Oxonian Namess, notably his rivals, such as Dummett or Anscombe, he knew when not to. His Post-war Oxford philosophy, as opposed to more specific items in The Grice Collection, remains general in tone, and intended as a defense of the ordinary-language approach to philosophy. Surprisingly, or perhaps not (for those who knew Grice), he takes a pretty idiosyncratic characterisation of conceptual analysis. Grices philosophical problems emerge with Grices idiosyncratic use of this or that expression. Conceptual analysis is meant to solve his problems, not others, repr. in WOW . Grice finds it important to reprint this since he had updated thoughts on the matter, which he displays in his Conceptual analysis and the province of philosophy. The topic represents one of the strands he identifies behind the unity of his philosophy. By post-war Oxford philosophy, Grice meant the period he was interested in. While he had been at Corpus, Merton, and St. Johns in the pre-war days, for some reason, he felt that he had made history in the post-war period. The historical reason Grice gives is understandable enough. In the pre-war days, Grice was the good student and the new fellow of St. Johns ‒ the other one was Mabbott. But he had not been able to engage in philosophical discussion much, other than with other tutees of Hardie. After the war, Grice indeed joins Austins more popular, less secretive Saturday mornings. Indeed, for Grice, post-war means all philosophy after the war (and not just say, the forties!) since he never abandoned the methods he developed under Austin, which were pretty congenial to the ones he had himself displayed in the pre-war days, in essays like Negation and Personal identity. Grice is a bit of an expert on Oxonian philosophy. He sees himself as a member of the school of analytic philosophy, rather than the abused term ordinary-language philosophy. This is evident by the fact that he contributed to such polemic  ‒ but typically Oxonian  ‒ volumes such as Butler, Analytic Philosophy, published by Blackwell (of all publishers). Grice led a very social life at Oxford, and held frequent philosophical discussions with the Play group philosophers (alphabetically listed above), and many others, such as Wood.  Post-war Oxford philosophy, miscellaneous, Oxford philosophy, in WOW, II, Semantics and Met. , Essay. By Oxford philosophy, Grice means his own. Grice went back to the topic of philosophy and ordinary language, as one of his essays is precisely entitled, Philosophy and ordinary language, philosophy and ordinary language, : ordinary-language philosophy, linguistic botanising. Grice is not really interested in ordinary language as a philologist might. He spoke ordinary language, he thought. The point had been brought to the fore by Austin. If they think philosophy is a play on words, well then, lets play the game. Grices interest is methodological. Malcolm had been claiming that ordinary language is incorrigible. While Grice agreed that language can be clever, he knew that Aristotle was possibly right when he explored ta legomena in terms of the many and the selected wise, philosophy and ordinary language, philosophy and ordinary language, : philosophy, ordinary language. At the time of writing, ordinary-language philosophy had become, even within Oxford, a bit of a term of abuse. Grice tries to defend Austins approach to it, while suggesting ideas that Austin somewhat ignored, like what an utterer implies by the use of an ordinary-language expression, rather than what the expression itself does. Grice is concerned, contra Austin, in explanation (or explanatory adequacy), not taxonomy (or descriptive adequacy). Grice disregards Austins piecemeal approach to ordinary language, as Grice searches for the big picture of it all. Grice never used ordinary language seriously. The phrase was used, as he explains, by those who HATED ordinary-language philosophy. Theres no such thing as ordinary language. Surely you cannot fairly describe the idiosyncratic linguistic habits of an Old Cliftonian as even remotely ordinary. Extra-ordinary more likely! As far as the philosophy bit goes, this is what Bergmann jocularly described as the linguistic turn. But as Grice notes, the linguistic turn involves both the ideal language and the ordinary language. Grice defends the choice by Austin of the ordinary seeing that it was what he had to hand! While Grice seems to be in agreement with the tone of his Wellesley talk, his idioms there in. Youre crying for the moon! Philosophy need not be grand! These seem to contrast with his more grandiose approach to philosophy. His struggle was to defend the minutiæ of linguistic botanising, that had occupied most of his professional life, with a grander view of the discipline. He blamed Oxford for that. Never in the history of philosophy had philosophers shown such an attachment to ordinary language as they did in post-war Oxford, Grice liked to say.  Having learned Grecian and Latin at Clifton, Grice saw in Oxford a way to go back to English! He never felt the need to explore Continental modern languages like German or French. Aristotle was of course cited in Greek, but Descartes is almost not cited, and Kant is cited in the translation available to Oxonians then. Grice is totally right that never has philosophy experienced such a fascination with ordinary use except at Oxford. The ruthless and unswerving association of philosophy with ordinary language has been peculiar to the Oxford scene. While many found this attachment to ordinary usage insidious, as Warnock put it, it fit me and Grice to a T, implicating you need a sort of innate disposition towards it! Strawson perhaps never had it! And thats why Grices arguments contra Strawson rest on further minutiæ whose detection by Grice never ceased to amaze his tutee! In this way, Grice felt he WAS Austins heir! While Grice is associated with, in chronological order, Corpus, Merton, and St. Johns, it is only St. Johns that counts for the Griceian! For it is at St. Johns he was a Tutorial Fellow in Philosophy! And we love him as a philosopher. Refs.: The obvious keyword is “Oxford.” His essay in WoW on post-war Oxford philosophy is general – the material in the H. P. Grice papers is more anecdotic. Also “Reply to Richards,” and references above under ‘linguistic botany’ and ‘play group,’ in BANC.

paradigm-case argument: the issue of analyticity is, as Locke puts it, the issue of whats trifle. That a triangle is trilateral Locke considers a trifling proposition, like Saffron is yellow. Lewes (who calls mathematical propositions analytic) describes the Kantian problem. The reductive analysis of meaning Grice offers depends on the analytic. Few Oxonian philosophers would follow Loar, D. Phil Oxon, under Warnock, in thinking of Grices conversational maxims as empirical inductive generalisations over functional states! Synthesis may do in the New World,but hardly in the Old! The locus classicus for the ordinary-language philosophical response to Quine in Two dogmas of empiricism. Grice and Strawson claim that is analytic does have an ordinary-language use, as attached two a type of behavioural conversational response. To an analytically false move (such as My neighbours three-year-old son is an adult) the addressee A is bound to utter, I dont understand you! You are not being figurative, are you? To a synthetically false move, on the other hand (such as My neighbours three-year-old understands Russells Theory of Types), the addressee A will jump with, Cant believe it! The topdogma of analyticity is for Grice very important to defend. Philosophy depends on it! He knows that to many his claim to fame is his In defence of a dogma, the topdogma of analyticity, no less. He eventually turns to a pragmatist justification of the distinction. This pragmatist justification is still in accordance with what he sees as the use of analytic in ordinary language. His infamous examples are as follows. My neighbours three-year old understands Russells Theory of Types. A: Hard to believe, but I will. My neighbours three-year old is an adult. Metaphorically? No. Then I dont understand you, and what youve just said is, in my scheme of things, analytically false. Ultimately, there are conversational criteria, based on this or that principle of conversational helfpulness. Grice is also circumstantially concerned with the synthetic a priori, and he would ask his childrens playmates: Can a sweater be red and green all over? No stripes allowed! The distinction is ultimately Kantian, but it had brought to the fore by the linguistic turn, Oxonian and other! In defence of a dogma, Two dogmas of empiricism, : the analytic-synthetic distinction. For Quine, there are two. Grice is mainly interested in the first one: that there is a distinction between the analytic and the synthetic. Grice considers Empiricism as a monster on his way to the Rationalist City of Eternal Truth. Grice came back time and again to explore the analytic-synthetic distinction. But his philosophy remained constant. His sympathy is for the practicality of it, its rationale. He sees it as involving formal calculi, rather than his own theory of conversation as rational co-operation which does not presuppose the analytic-synthetic distinction, even if it explains it! Grice would press the issue here: if one wants to prove that such a theory of conversation as rational co-operation has to be seen as philosophical, rather than some other way, some idea of analyticity may be needed to justify the philosophical enterprise. Cf. the synthetic a priori, that fascinated Grice most than anything Kantian else! Can a sweater be green and red all over? No stripes allowed. With In defence of a dogma, Grice and Strawson attack a New-World philosopher. Grice had previously collaborated with Strawson in an essay on Met.  (actually a three-part piece, with Pears as the third author). The example Grice chooses to refute attack by Quine of the top-dogma is the Aristotelian idea of the peritrope, as Aristotle refutes Antiphasis in Met.  (v. Ackrill, Burnyeat and Dancy). Grice explores chapter Γ 8 of Aristotles Met. .  In Γ 8, Aristotle presents two self-refutation arguments against two theses, and calls the asserter, Antiphasis, T1 = Everything is true, and T2 = Everything is false, Metaph. Γ 8, 1012b13–18. Each thesis is exposed to the stock objection that it eliminates itself. An utterer who explicitly conveys that everything is true also makes the thesis opposite to his own true, so that his own is not true (for the opposite thesis denies that his is true), and any utterer U who explicitly conveys that everything is false also belies himself.  Aristotle does not seem to be claiming that, if everything is true, it would also be true that it is false that everything is true and, that, therefore, Everything is true must be false: the final, crucial inference, from the premise if, p, ~p to the conclusion ~p is missing. But it is this extra inference that seems required to have a formal refutation of Antiphasiss T1 or T2 by consequentia mirabilis. The nature of the argument as a purely dialectical silencer of Antiphasis is confirmed by the case of T2, Everything is false. An utterer who explicitly conveys that everything is false unwittingly concedes, by self-application, that what he is saying must be false too. Again, the further and different conclusion Therefore; it is false that everything is false is missing. That proposal is thus self-defeating, self-contradictory (and comparable to Grices addressee using adult to apply to three-year old, without producing the creature), oxymoronic, and suicidal. This seems all that Aristotle is interested in establishing through the self-refutation stock objection. This is not to suggest that Aristotle did not believe that Everything is true or Everything is false is false, or that he excludes that he can prove its falsehood. Grice notes that this is not what Aristotle seems to be purporting to establish in 1012b13–18. This holds for a περιτροπή (peritrope) argument, but not for a περιγραφή (perigraphe) argument (συμβαίνει δὴ καὶ τὸ θρυλούμενον πᾶσι τοῖς τοιούτοις λόγοις, αὐτοὺς ἑαυτοὺς ἀναιρεῖν. ὁ μὲν γὰρ πάντα ἀληθῆ λέγων καὶ τὸν ἐναντίον αὑτοῦ λόγον ἀληθῆ ποιεῖ, ὥστε τὸν ἑαυτοῦ οὐκ ἀληθῆ (ὁ γὰρ ἐναντίος οὔ φησιν αὐτὸν ἀληθῆ), ὁ δὲ πάντα ψευδῆ καὶ αὐτὸς αὑτόν.) It may be emphasized that Aristotles argument does not contain an explicit application of consequentia mirabilis. Indeed, no extant self-refutation argument before Augustine, Grice is told by Mates, contains an explicit application of consequentia mirabilis. This observation is a good and important one, but Grice has doubts about the consequences one may draw from it. One may take the absence of an explicit application of consequentia mirabilis to be a sign of the purely dialectical nature of the self-refutation argument. This is questionable. The formulation of a self-refutation argument (as in Grices addressee, Sorry, I misused adult.) is often compressed and elliptical and involves this or that implicatum. One usually assumes that this or that piece in a dialectical context has been omitted and should be supplied (or worked out, as Grice prefers) by the addressee. But in this or that case, it is equally possible to supply some other, non-dialectical piece of reasoning. In Aristotles arguments from Γ 8, e.g., the addressee may supply an inference to the effect that the thesis which has been shown to be self-refuting is not true. For if Aristotle takes the argument to establish that the thesis has its own contradictory version as a consequence, it must be obvious to Aristotle that the thesis is not true (since every consequence of a true thesis is true, and two contradictory theses cannot be simultaneously true). On the further assumption (that Grice makes explicit) that the principle of bivalence is applicable, Aristotle may even infer that the thesis is false. It is perfectly plausible to attribute such an inference to Aristotle and to supply it in his argument from Γ 8. On this account, there is no reason to think that the argument is of an intrinsically dialectical nature and cannot be adequately represented as a non-dialectical proof of the non-truth, or even falsity, of the thesis in question. It is indeed difficult to see signs of a dialectical exchange between two parties (of the type of which Grice and Strawson are champions) in Γ8, 1012b13–18. One piece of evidence is Aristotles reference to the person, the utterer, as Grice prefers who explicitly conveys or asserts (ὁ λέγων) that T1 or that T2. This reference by the Grecian philosopher to the Griceian utterer or asserter of the thesis that everything is true would be irrelevant if Aristotles aim is to prove something about T1s or T2s propositional content, independently of the act by the utterer of uttering its expression and thereby explicitly conveying it. However, it is not clear that this reference is essential to Aristotles argument. One may even doubt whether the Grecian philosopher is being that Griceian, and actually referring to the asserter of T1 or T2. The *implicit* (or implicated) grammatical Subjects of Aristotles ὁ λέγων (1012b15) might be λόγος, instead of the utterer qua asserter. λόγος is surely the implicit grammatical Subjects of ὁ λέγων shortly after ( 1012b21–22. 8). The passage may be taken to be concerned with λόγοι ‒ this or that statement, this or that thesis  ‒ but not with its asserter.  In the Prior Analytics, Aristotle states that no thesis (A three-year old is an adult) can necessarily imply its own contradictory (A three-year old is not an adult) (2.4, 57b13–14). One may appeal to this statement in order to argue for Aristotles claim that a self-refutation argument should NOT be analyzed as involving an implicit application of consequentia mirabilis. Thus, one should deny that Aristotles self-refutation argument establishes a necessary implication from the self-refuting thesis to its contradictory. However, this does not explain what other kind of consequence relation Aristotle takes the self-refutation argument to establish between the self-refuting thesis and its contradictory, although dialectical necessity has been suggested. Aristotles argument suffices to establish that Everything is false is either false or liar-paradoxical. If a thesis is liar-paradoxical (and Grice loved, and overused the expression), the assumption of its falsity leads to contradiction as well as the assumption of its truth. But Everything is false is only liar-paradoxical in the unlikely, for Aristotle perhaps impossible, event that everything distinct from this thesis is false. So, given the additional premise that there is at least one true item distinct from the thesis Everything is false, Aristotle can safely infer that the thesis is false. As for Aristotles ὁ γὰρ λέγων τὸν ἀληθῆ λόγον ἀληθῆ ἀληθής,, or eliding the γὰρ,  ὁ  λέγων τὸν ἀληθῆ λόγον ἀληθῆ ἀληθής, (ho legon ton alethe logon alethe alethes) may be rendered as either: The statement which states that the true statement is true is true, or, more alla Grice, as He who says (or explicitly conveys, or indicates) that the true thesis is true says something true. It may be argued that it is quite baffling (and figurative or analogical or metaphoric) in this context, to take ἀληθής to be predicated  of the Griceian utterer, a person (true standing for truth teller, trustworthy), to take it to mean that he says something true, rather than his statement stating something true, or his statement being true. But cf. L and S: ἀληθής [α^], Dor. ἀλαθής, [α^], Dor. ἀλαθής, ές, f. λήθω, of persons, truthful, honest (not in Hom., v. infr.), ἀ. νόος Pi. O.2.92; κατήγορος A. Th. 439; κριτής Th. 3.56; οἶνος ἀ. `in vino veritas, Pl. Smp. 217e; ὁ μέσος ἀ. τις Arist. EN 1108a20. Admittedly, this or that non-Griceian passage in which it is λόγος, and not the utterer, which is the implied grammatical Subjects of ὁ λέγων can be found in Metaph. Γ7, 1012a24–25; Δ6, 1016a33; Int. 14, 23a28–29; De motu an. 10, 703a4; Eth. Nic. 2.6, 1107a6–7. 9. So the topic is controversial. Indeed such a non-Griceian exegesis of the passage is given by Alexander of Aphrodisias (in Metaph. 340. 26–29):9, when Alexander observes that the statement, i.e. not the utterer, that says that everything is false (ὁ δὲ πάντα ψευδῆ εἶναι λέγων λόγος) negates itself, not himself, because if everything is false, this very statement, which, rather than, by which the utterer, says that everything is false, would be false, and how can an utterer be FALSE? So that the statement which, rather than the utterer who, negates it, saying that not everything is false, would be true, and surely an utterer cannot be true. Does Alexander misrepresent Aristotles argument by omitting every Griceian reference to the asserter or utterer qua rational personal agent, of the thesis? If the answer is negative, even if the occurrence of ὁ λέγων at 1012b15 refers to the asserter, or utterer, qua rational personal agent, this is merely an accidental feature of Aristotles argument that cannot be regarded as an indication of its dialectical nature. None of this is to deny that some self-refutation argument may be of an intrinsically dialectical nature; it is only to deny that every one is This is in line with Burnyeats view that a dialectical self-refutation, even if qualified, as Aristotle does, as ancient, is a subspecies of self-refutation, but does not exhaust it. Granted, a dialectical approach may provide a useful interpretive framework for many an ancient self-refutation argument. A statement like If proof does not exist, proof exists ‒ that occurs in an anti-sceptical self-refutation argument reported by Sextus Empiricus  ‒ may receive an attractive dialectical re-interpretation. It may be argued that such a statement should not be understood at the level of what is explicated, but should be regarded as an elliptical reminder of a complex dialectical argument which can be described as follows. Cf. If thou claimest that proof doth not exist, thou must present a proof of what thou assertest, in order to be credible, but thus thou thyself admitest that proof existeth. A similar point can be made for Aristotles famous argument in the Protrepticus that one must philosophise. A number of sources state that this argument relies on the implicature, If one must not philosophize, one must philosophize. It may be argued that this implicature is an elliptical reminder of a dialectical argument such as the following. If thy position is that thou must not philosophise, thou must reflect on this choice and argue in its support, but by doing so thou art already choosing to do philosophy, thereby admitting that thou must philosophise. The claim that every instance of an ancient self-refutation arguments is of an intrinsically dialectical nature is thus questionable, to put it mildly. V also 340.19–26, and A. Madigan, tcomm., Alexander of Aphrodisias: On Aristotles Met.  4, Ithaca, N.Y., Burnyeat, Protagoras and Self-Refutation in Later Greek Philosophy,. Grices implicature is that Quine should have learned Greek before refuting Aristotle. But then *I* dont speak Greek! Strawson refuted. Refs.: The obvious keyword is ‘analytic,’ in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

philosophical: Grice was somewhat obsessed as to what ‘philosohical’ stood for, which amused the members of his play group! His play group once spends five weeks in an effort to explain why, sometimes, ‘very’ allows, with little or no change of meaning, the substitution of ‘highly’ (as in ‘very unusual’) and sometimes does not (as in ‘very depressed’ or ‘very wicked’); and we reached no conclusion. This episode was ridiculed by some as an ultimate embodiment of fruitless frivolity. But that response is as out of place as a similar response to the medieval question, ‘How many angels can dance on a needle’s point?’” A needless point?For much as this medieval question is raised in order to display, in a vivid way, a difficulty in the conception of an immaterial substance, so The Play Group discussion is directed, in response to a worry from me, towards an examination, in the first instance, of a conceptual question which is generally agreed among us to be a strong candidate for being a question which had no philosophical importance, with a view to using the results of this examination in finding a distinction between philosophically important and philosophically unimportant enquiries. Grice is fortunate that the Lit. Hum. programme does not have much philosophy! He feels free! In fact, the lack of a philosophical background is felt as a badge of honour. It is ‘too clever’ and un-English to ‘know’ things. A pint of philosophy is all Grice wanted. Figurative. This is Harvardite Gordon’s attempt to formulate a philosophy of the minimum fundamental ideas that all people on the earth should come to know. Reviewed by A. M. Honoré: Short measure. Gordon, a Stanley Plummer scholar, e: Bowdoin and Harvard, in The Eastern Gazette. Grice would exclaim: I always loved Alfred Brooks Gordon! Grice was slightly disapppointed that Gordon had not included the fundamental idea of implicature in his pint. Short measure, indeed. Refs.: The main sources in the Grice Papers are under series III, of the doctrines. See also references under ‘lingusitic botany,’ and Oxonianism. Grice liked to play with the adage of ‘philosophia’ as ‘regina scientiarum.’ A specific essay in his update of “post-war Oxford philosophy,” in WoW on “Conceptual analysis and the province of philosophy,” BANC.

physiological. Grice would use ‘natural,’ relying on the idea that it’s Grecian ‘physis.’ Liddell and Scott have “φύσις,” from “φύω,” and which they render as “origin.” the natural form or constitution of a person or thing as the result of growth, and hence nature, constitution, and nature as an originating power, “φ. λέγεται . . ὅθεν ἡ κίνησις ἡ πρώτη ἐν ἑκάστῳ τῶν φύσει ὄντων” Arist.Metaph.1014b16; concrete, the creation, 'Nature.’ Grice is casual in his use of ‘natural’ versus ‘non-natural’ in 1948 for the Oxford Philosophical Society. In later works, there’s a reference to naturalism, which is more serious. Refs.: The keyword should be ‘naturalism,’ but also Grice’s diatribes against ‘physicalism,’ and of course the ‘natural’ and ‘non-natural,’ BANC.

practical reason: Literally, ‘practical reason’ is the buletic part of the soul (psyche) that deals with praxis, where the weighing is central. We dont need means-end rationality, we need value-oriented rationality. We dont need the rationality of the means – this is obvious --. We want the rationality of the ends. The end may justify the means. But Grice is looking for what justifies the end. The topic of freedom fascinated Grice, because it merged the practical with the theoretical. Grice sees the conception of freedom as crucial in his elucidation of a rational being. Conditions of freedom are necessary for the very idea, as Kant was well aware. A thief who is forced to steal is just a thief. Grice would engage in a bit of language botany, when exploring the ways the adjective free is used, freely, in ordinary language: free fall, alcohol-free, sugar-free, and his favourite: implicature-free. Grices more systematic reflections deal with Pology, or creature construction. A vegetals, for example is less free than an animal, but more free than a stone! And Humans are more free than non-human. Grice wants to deal with some of the paradoxes identified by Kant about freedom, and he succeeds in solving some of them. There is a section on freedom in Action and events for PPQ  where he expands on eleutheria and notes the idiocy of a phrase like free fall. Grice was irritated by the fact that his friend Hart wrote an essay on liberty and not on freedom, cf. praxis. Refs.: essays on ‘practical reason,’ and “Aspects,” in BANC.

prescriptivism:  Surely there are for Grice at least two different modes, the buletic, which tends towards the prescriptive, and the doxastic, which is mostly ‘descriptive.’ One has to be careful because Grice thinks that what a philosopher like Strawson does with ‘descriptive’ expression (like ‘true,’ ‘know’ and ‘good’) and talk of pseudo-descriptive. What is that gives the buletic a ‘prescritive’ or deontic ring to it? This is Kant’s question. Grice kept a copy of Foots on morality as a system of hypothetical imperatives. “So Somervillian Oxonian it hurts!”. Grice took virtue ethics more seriously than the early Hare. Hare will end up a virtue ethicist, since he changed from a meta-ethicist to a moralist embracing a hedonistic version of eudaemonist utilitarianism. Grice was more Aristotelianly conservative! Unlike Hares and Grices meta-ethical sensitivities (as members of the Oxonian school of ordinary-language philosophy), Foot suggests a different approach to ethics. Grice admired Foots ability to make the right conceptual distinction. Foot is following a very Oxonian tradition best represented by the work of Warnock. Of course, Grice was over-familiar with the virtue vs. vice distinction, since Hardie had instilled it on him at Corpus! For Grice, virtue and vice (and the mesotes), display an interesting logical grammar, though. Grice would say that rationality is a virtue; fallacious reasoning is a vice. Some things Grice takes more of a moral standpoint about. To cheat is neither irrational nor unreasonble: just plain repulsive.  As such, it would be a vice ‒ mind not getting caught in its grip! Grice is concerned with vice in his account of akrasia or incontinentia. If agent A KNOWS that doing x is virtuous, yet decides to do ~x, which is vicious, A is being akratic. For Grice, akratic behaviour applies both in the buletic or boulomaic realm and in the doxastic realm. And it is part of the philosopher’s job to elucidate the conceptual intricacies attached to it. 1. prima-facie (p⊃!q) V probably (p⊃q). 2. prima-facie ((A and B) ⊃!p) V probably ( (A and B) ⊃p). 3. prima-facie ((A and B and C) ⊃!p) V probably ( (A and B and C,) ⊃p). 4. prima-facie ((all things before P V!p) V probably ((all things before P) ⊃ p). 5. prima-facie ((all things are considered ⊃ !p) V probably (all things are considered, ⊃ p). 6. !q V .q 7. Acc. Reasoning P wills that !q V Acc. Reasoning P that judges q. Refs.: The main sources under ‘meta-ethics,’ above, BANC.

prejudices: the life and opinions of H. P. Grice, by H. P. Grice! PGRICE had been in the works for a while. Knowing this, Grice is able to start his auto-biography, or memoir, to which he later adds a specific reply to this or that objection by the editors. The reply is divided in neat sections. After a preamble displaying his gratitude for the volume in his honour, Grice turns to his prejudices and predilections; which become, the life and opinions of H. P. Grice. The third section is a reply to the editorss overview of his work. This reply itself is itself subdivided into questions of meaning and rationality, and questions of Met. , philosophical psychology, and value. As the latter is repr. in “Conception” it is possible to cite this sub-section from the Reply as a separate piece. Grice originally entitles his essay in a brilliant manner, echoing the style of an English non-conformist, almost: Prejudices and predilections; which become, the life and opinions of H. P. Grice. With his Richards, a nice Welsh surNames, Grice is punning on the first Names of both Grandy and Warner. Grice is especially concerned with what Richards see as an ontological commitment on Grices part to the abstract, yet poorly individuated entity of a proposition. Grice also deals with the alleged insufficiency in his conceptual analysis of reasoning. He brings for good measure a point about a potential regressus ad infinitum in his account of a chain of intentions involved in meaning that p and communicating that p. Even if one of the drafts is titled festschrift, not by himself, this is not strictly a festschrift in that Grices Names is hidden behind the acronym: PGRICE. Notably on the philosophy of perception. Also in “Conception,” especially that tricky third lecture on a metaphysical foundation for objective value. Grice is supposed to reply to the individual contributors, who include Strawson, but does not. I cancelled the implicatum! However, we may identify in his oeuvre points of contacts of his own views with the philosophers who contributed, notably Strawson. Most of this material is reproduced verbatim, indeed, as the second part of his Reply to Richards, and it is a philosophical memoir of which Grice is rightly proud. The life and opinions are, almost in a joke on Witters, distinctly separated. Under Life, Grice convers his conservative, irreverent rationalism making his early initial appearance at Harborne under the influence of his non-conformist father, and fermented at his tutorials with Hardie at Corpus, and his associations with Austins play group on Saturday mornings, and some of whose members he lists alphabetically: Austin, Gardiner, Grice, Hampshire, Hare, Hart, Nowell-Smith, Paul, Pears, Strawson, Thomson, Urmson, and Warnock.  Also, his joint philosophising with Austin, Pears, Strawson, Thomson, and Warnock. Under Opinions, Grice expands mainly on ordinary-language philosophy and his Bunyanesque way to the City of Eternal Truth. Met. , Philosophical Psychology, and Value, in “Conception,” is thus part of his Prejudices and predilections. The philosophers Grice quotes are many and varied, such as Bosanquet and Kneale, and from the other place, Keynes. Grice spends some delightful time criticising the critics of ordinary-language philosophy such as Bergmann (who needs an English futilitarian?) and Gellner. He also quotes from Jespersen, who was "not a philosopher but wrote a philosophy of grammar!" And Grice includes a reminiscence of the bombshells brought from Vienna by the enfant terrible of Oxford philosophy Freddie Ayer, after being sent to the Continent by Ryle. He recalls an air marshal at a dinner with Strawson at Magdalen relishing on Cook Wilsons adage, What we know we know. And more besides! After reminiscing for Clarendon, Grice will go on to reminisce for Harvard University Press in the closing section of the Retrospective epilogue. Refs.: The main source is “Reply to Richards,” and references to Oxonianism, and linguistic botanising, BANC.

rationality: ‘Rationality’ is one of those words Austin forbids to use. Grice would venture with ‘reason,’ and better, ‘reasons’ to make it countable, and good for botanising. Only in the New World, and when he started to get input from non-philosophers, did Grice explore ‘rationality’ itself. Oxonians philosophers take it for granted, and do not have to philosophise about it. Especially those who belong to Grice’s play group of ‘ordinary-language’ philosophers! Oxonian philosophers will quote from the Locke version! Obviously, while each of the four lectures credits their own entry below, it may do to reflect on Grices overall aim. Grice structures the lectures in the form of a philosophical dialogue with his audience. The first lecture is intended to provide a bit of linguistic botanising for reasonable, and rational. In later lectures, Grice tackles reason qua noun. The remaining lectures are meant to explore what he calls the Aequi-vocality thesis: must has only one Fregeian that crosses what he calls the buletic-doxastic divide. He is especially concerned  ‒ this being the Kant lectures  ‒ with Kants attempt to reduce the categorical imperative to a counsel of prudence (Ratschlag der Klugheit), where Kants prudence is Klugheit, versus skill, as in rule of skill, and even if Kant defines Klugheit as a skill to attain what is good for oneself  ‒ itself divided into privatKlugheit and Weltklugheit. Kant re-introduces the Aristotelian idea of eudaimonia. While a further lecture on happiness as the pursuit of a system of ends is NOT strictly part of the either the Kant or the Locke lectures, it relates, since eudaemonia may be regarded as the goal involved in the relevant imperative.  “Aspects”, Clarendon, Stanford, The Kant memorial Lectures, “Aspects,” Clarendon, Some aspects of reason, Stanford; reason, reasoning, reasons. The lectures were also delivered as the Locke lectures. Grice is concerned with the reduction of the categorical imperative to the hypothetical or suppositional imperative. His main thesis he calls the æqui-vocality thesis: must has one unique or singular sense, that crosses the buletic-boulomaic/doxastic divide. “Aspects,” Clarendon, Grice, “Aspects, Clarendon, Locke lecture notes: reason. On “Aspects”. Including extensive language botany on rational, reasonable, and indeed reason (justificatory, explanatory, and mixed). At this point, Grice notes that linguistic botany is indispensable towards the construction of a more systematic explanatory theory. It is an exploration of a range of uses of reason that leads him to his Aequi-vocality thesis that must has only one sense; also ‘Aspects of reason and reasoning,’ in Grice, “Aspects,” Clarendon, the Locke lectures, the Kant lectures, Stanford, reason, happiness. While Locke hardly mentions reason, his friend Burthogge does, and profusely! It was slightly ironic that Grice had delivered these lectures as the Rationalist Kant lectures at Stanford. He was honoured to be invited to Oxford. Officially, to be a Locke lecture you have to be *visiting* Oxford. While Grice was a fellow of St. Johns, he was still most welcome to give his set of lectures on reasoning at the Sub-Faculty of Philosophy. He quotes very many authors, including Locke! In his proemium, Grice notes that while he was rejected the Locke scholarship back in the day, he was extremely happy to be under Lockes ægis now! When preparing for his second lecture, he had occasion to revise some earlier drafts dated pretty early, on reasons, Grice, “Aspects,” Clarendon, reason, reasons. Linguistic analysis on justificatory, explanatory and mixed uses of reason. While Grice knows that the basic use of reason is qua verb (reasoner reasons from premise p to conclusion c), he spends some time in exploring reason as noun. Grice found it a bit of a roundabout way to approach rationality. However, his distinction between justificatory and explanatory reason is built upon his linguistic botany on the use of reason qua noun. Explanatory reason seems more basic for Grice than justificatory reason. Explanatory reason explains the behaviour of a rational agent. Grice is aware of Freud and his rationalizations. An agent may invoke some reason for his acting which is not legitimate. An agent may convince himself that he wants to move to Bournemouth because of the weather; when in fact, his reason to move to Bournemouth is to be closer to Cowes and join the yacht club there. Grice loved an enthymeme. Grices enthymeme. Grice, the implicit reasoner! As the title of the lecture implies, Grice takes the verb, to reason, as conceptually prior. A reasoner reasons, briefly, from a premise to a conclusion. There are types of reason: flat reason and gradual reason. He famously reports Shropshire, another tutee with Hardie, and his proof on the immortality of the human soul. Grice makes some remarks on akrasia as key, too. The first lecture is then dedicated to an elucidation, and indeed attempt at a conceptual analysis in terms of intentions and doxastic conditions reasoner R intends that premise P yields conclusion C and believes his intention will cause his entertaining of the conclusion from his entertaining the premise. One example of particular interest for a study of the use of conversational reason in Grice is that of the connection between implicatum and reasoning. Grice entitles the sub-section of the lecture as Too good to be reasoning, which is of course a joke. Cf. too much love will kill you, and Theres no such thing as too much of a good thing (Shakespeare, As you like it). Grice notes: I have so far been considering difficulties which may arise from the attempt to find, for all cases of actual reasoning, reconstructions of sequences of utterances or explicit thoughts which the reasoner might plausibly be supposed to think of as conforming to some set of canonical patterns of inference. Grice then turns to a different class of examples, with regard to which the problem is not that it is difficult to know how to connect them with canonical patterns, but rather that it is only too easy (or shall I say trivial) to make the connection. Like some children (not many), some cases of reasoning are too well behaved for their own good. Suppose someone says to Grice, and It is very interesting that Grice gives conversational examples. Jack has arrived, Grice replies, I conclude from that that Jack has arrived. Or he says Jack has arrived AND Jill has *also* arrived, And Grice replies, I conclude that Jill has arrived.(via Gentzens conjunction-elimination). Or he says, My wife is at home. And Grice replies, I reason from that that someone (viz. your wife) is at home. Is there not something very strange about the presence in my three replies of the verb conclude (in example I and II) and the verb reason (in the third example)? misleading, but doxastically fine, professor! It is true, of course, that if instead of my first reply I had said (vii) vii. So Jack has arrived, has he? the strangeness would have been removed. But here so serves not to indicate that an inference is being made, but rather as part of a not that otiose way of expressing surprise. One might just as well have said (viii). viii. Well, fancy that! Now, having spent a sizeable part of his life exploiting it, Grice is not unaware of the truly fine distinction between a statements being false (or axiologically satisfactory), and its being true (or axiologically satisfactory) but otherwise conversationally or pragmatically misleading or inappropriate or pointless, and, on that account and by such a fine distinction, a statement, or an utterance, or conversational move which it would be improper (in terms of the reasonable/rational principle of conversational helfpulness) in one way or another, to make. It is worth considering Grices reaction to his own distinction. Entailment is in sight! But Grice does not find himself lured by the idea of using that distinction here! Because Moores entailment, rather than Grices implicatum is entailed. Or because explicatu, rather than implicatum is involved. Suppose, again, that I were to break off the chapter at this point, and switch suddenly to this argument. ix. I have two hands (here is one hand and here is another). If had three more hands, I would have five. If I were to have double that number I would have ten, and if four of them were removed six would remain. So I would have four more hands than I have now. Is one happy to describe this performance as reasoning? Depends whos one and whats happy!? There is, however, little doubt that I have produced a canonically acceptable chain of statements. So surely that is reasoning, if only conversationally misleadingly called so. Or suppose that, instead of writing in my customary free and easy style, I had framed my remarks (or at least the argumentative portions of my remarks) as a verbal realization, so to speak, of sequences of steps in strict conformity with the rules of a natural-deduction system of first-order predicate logic. I give, that is to say, an updated analogue of a medieval disputation. Implicature. Gentzen is Ockham. Would those brave souls who continued to read be likely to think of my performance as the production of reasoning, or would they rather think of it as a crazy formalisation of reasoning conducted at some previous time? Depends on crazy or formalisation. One is reminded of Grice telling Strawson, If you cannot formalise, dont say it; Strawson: Oh, no! If I can formalise it, I shant say it! The points suggested by this stream of rhetorical questions may be summarized as follows. Whether the samples presented FAIL to achieve the title of reasoning, and thus be deemed reasoning, or whether the samples achieve the title, as we may figuratively put it, by the skin of their teeth, perhaps does not very greatly matter. For whichever way it is, the samples seem to offend against something (different things in different cases, Im sure) very central to our conception of reasoning. So central that Moore would call it entailment! A mechanical application of a ground rule of inference, or a concatenation thereof, is reluctantly (if at all) called reasoning. Such a mechanical application may perhaps legitimately enter into (i.e. form individual steps in) authentic reasonings, but they are not themselves reasonings, nor is a string of them. There is a demand that a reasoner should be, to a greater or lesser degree, the author of his reasonings. Parroted sequences are not reasonings when parroted, though the very same sequences might be reasoning if not parroted. Ped sequences are another matter. Some of the examples Grice gives are deficient because they are aimless or pointless. Reasoning is characteristically addressed to this or that problem: a small problem, a large problem, a problem within a problem, a clear problem, a hazy problem, a practical problem, an intellectual problem; but a problem! A mere flow of ideas minimally qualifies (or can be deemed) as reasoning, even if it happens to be logically respectable. But if it is directed, or even monitored (with intervention should it go astray, not only into fallacy or mistake, but also into such things as conversational irrelevance or otiosity!), that is another matter! Finicky over-elaboration of intervening steps is frowned upon, and in extreme cases runs the risk of forfeiting the title of reasoning. In conversation, such over-elaboration will offend against this or that conversational maxim, against (presumably) some suitably formulated maxim conjoining informativeness. As Grice noted with regard to ‘That pillar box seems red to me.’ That would be baffling if the addressee fails to detect the communication-point. An utterance is supposed to inform, and what is the above meant to inform its addressee? In thought, it will be branded as pedantry or neurotic caution. If a distinction between brooding and conversing is to be made! At first sight, perhaps, one would have been inclined to say that greater rather than lesser explicitnessness is a merit. Not that inexplicitness, or implicatum-status, as it were ‒ is bad, but that, other things being equal, the more explicitness the better. But now it looks as if proper explicitness (or explicatum-status) is an Aristotelian mean, or mesotes, and it would be good some time to enquire what determines where that mean lies. The burden of the foregoing observations seems to me to be that the provisional account of reasoning, which has been before us, leaves out something which is crucially important. What it leaves out is the conception of reasoning, as I like to see conversation, as a purposive activity, as something with goals and purposes. The account or picture leaves out, in short, the connection of reasoning with the will! Moreover, once we avail ourselves of the great family of additional ideas which the importation of this conception would give us, we shall be able to deal with the quandary which I laid before you a few minutes ago. For we could say e.g. that R reasons (informally) from p to c just in case R thinks that p and intends that, in thinking c, he should be thinking something which would be the conclusion of a formally valid argument the premisses of which are a supplementation of p. This will differ from merely thinking that there exists some formally valid supplementation of a transition from p to c, which I felt inclined NOT to count as (or deem) reasoning. I have some hopes that this appeal to the purposiveness or goal-oriented character of authentic reasoning or good reasoning might be sufficient to dispose of the quandary on which I have directed it. But I am by no means entirely confident that this is the case, and so I offer a second possible method of handling the quandary, one to which I shall return later when I shall attempt to place it in a larger context. We have available to us (let us suppose) what I might call a hard way of making inferential moves. We in fact employ this laborious, step-by-step procedure at least when we are in difficulties, when the course is not clear, when we have an awkward (or philosophical) audience, and so forth. An inferential judgement, however, is a normally desirable undertaking for us only because of its actual or hoped for destinations, and is therefore not desirable for its own sake (a respect in which, possibly, it may differ from an inferential capacity). Following the hard way consumes time and energy. These are in limited supply and it would, therefore, be desirable if occasions for employing the hard way were minimized. A substitute for the hard way, the quick way, which is made possible by habituation and intention, is available to us, and the capacity for it (which is sometimes called intelligence, and is known to be variable in degree) is a desirable quality. The possibility of making a good inferential step (there being one to be made), together with such items as a particular inferers reputation for inferential ability, may determine whether on a particular occasion we suppose a particular transition to be inferential (and so to be a case of reasoning) or not. On this account, it is not essential that there should be a single supplementation of an informal reasoning which is supposed to be what is overtly in the inferers mind, though quite often there may be special reasons for supposing this to be the case. So Botvinnik is properly credited with a case of reasoning, while Shropshire is not. Drawing from his recollections of an earlier linguistic botany on reason. Grice distinguishes between justificatory reason and explanatory reason. There is a special case of mixed reason, explanatory-cum-justificatory. The lecture can be seen as the way an exercise that Austin took as taxonomic can lead to explanatory adequacy, too! Bennett is an excellent correspondent. He holds a very interesting philosophical correspondence with Hare. This is just one f. with Grices correspondence with Bennett. Oxford don, Christchurh, NZ-born Bennett, of Magdalen, B. Phil. Oxon. Bennett has an essay on the interpretation of a formal system under Austin. It is interesting that Bennett was led to consider the interpretation of a formal system under Austins Play Group. Bennett attends Grices seminars. He is my favourite philosopher. Bennett quotes Grice in his Linguistic behaviour. In return, Grice quotes Bennett in the Preface toWOW. Bennett has an earlier essay on rationality, which evidences that the topic is key at Grices Oxford. Bennett has studied better than anyone the way Locke is Griceian. A word or expression does not just stand for idea, but for the intention of the utterer to stand for it! Grice also enjoyed construal by Bennett of Grice as a nominalist. Bennett makes a narrow use of the epithet. Since Grice does distinguish between an utterance-token (x) and an utterance-type, and considers that the attribution of meaning from token to type is metabolic, this makes Grice a nominalist. Bennett is one of the few to follow Kantotle and make him popular on the pages of the Times Literary Supplement, of all places. Refs.: The locus classicus is “Aspects,” Clarendon. But there are allusions on ‘reason’ and ‘rationality, in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

scepticism: Grice thinks ‘dogmatic’ is the opposite of ‘sceptic,’ and he is right! Liddell and Scott have “δόγμα,” from “δοκέω,” and which they render as “that which seems to one, opinion or belief;” Pl.R.538c; “δ. πόλεως κοινόν;” esp. of philosophical doctrines, Epicur.Nat.14.7; “notion,” Pl.Tht.158d; “decision, judgement,” Pl. Lg.926d; (pl.); public decree, ordinance,  esp. of Roman Senatus-consulta, “δ. συγκλήτου”  “δ. τῆς βουλῆς” So note that there is nothing ‘dogmatic’ about ‘dogma,’ as it derives from ‘dokeo,’ and is rendered as ‘that which seems to one.’ So the keyword should be later Grecian, and in the adjectival ‘dogmatic.’ Liddell and Scott have “δογματικός,” which they render as “of or for doctrines, didactic, [διάλογοι] Quint.Inst.2.15.26, and “of persons, δ. ἰατροί,” “physicians who go by general principles,” opp. “ἐμπειρικοί and μεθοδικοί,” Dsc.Ther.Praef., Gal.1.65; in Philosophy, S.E.M.7.1, D.L.9.70, etc.; “δ. ὑπολήψεις” Id.9.83; “δ. φιλοσοφία” S.E. P.1.4. Adv. “-κῶς” D.L.9.74, S.E.P.1.197: Comp. “-κώτερον” Id.M. 6.4. Why is Grice interested in scepticism. His initial concern, the one that Austin would authorize, relates to ‘ordinary language.’ What if ‘ordinary language’ embraces scepticism? What if it doesn’t? Strawso notes that the world of ordinary language is a world of things, causes, and stuff. None of the good stuff for the sceptic. what is Grice’s answer to the sceptic’s implicature? The sceptic’s implicatum is a topic that always fascinated Girce. While Grice groups two essays as dealing with one single theme, strictly, only this or that philosopher’s paradox (not all) may count as sceptical. This or that philosopher’s paradox may well not be sceptical at all but rather dogmatic. In fact, Grice defines philosophers paradox as anything repugnant to common sense, shocking, or extravagant ‒ to Malcolms ears, that is! While it is, strictly, slightly odd to quote this as a given date just because, by a stroke of the pen, Grice writes that date in the Harvard volume, we will follow his charming practice. This is vintage Grice. Grice always takes the sceptics challenge seriously, as any serious philosopher should. Grices takes both the sceptics explicatum and the scepticss implicatum as self-defeating, as a very affront to our idea of rationality, conversational or other. V: Conversations with a sceptic: Can he be slightly more conversational helpful? Hume’ sceptical attack is partial, and targeted only towards practical reason, though.  Yet, for Grice, reason is one. You cannot really attack practical or buletic reason without attacking theoretical or doxastic reason. There is such thing as a general rational acceptance, to use Grice’s term, that the sceptic is getting at. Grice likes to play with the idea that ultimately every syllogism is buletic or practical. If, say, a syllogism by Eddington looks doxastic, that is because Eddington cares to omit the practical tail, as Grice puts it. And Eddington is not even a philosopher, they say. Grice is here concerned with a Cantabrigian topic popularised by Moore. As Grice recollects, Some like Witters, but Moore’s my man. Unlike Cambridge analysts such as Moore, Grice sees himself as a linguistic-turn Oxonian analyst. So it is only natural that Grice would connect time-honoured scepticism of Pyrrhos vintage, and common sense with ordinary language, so mis-called, the elephant in Grices room. L and S have σκέψις, from σκέπτομαι, which they render as viewing, perception by the senses, ἡ διὰ τῶν ὀμμάτων ςκέψις, Pl. Phd. 83a; observation of auguries, Hdn. 8. 3. 7., also as examination, speculation, consideration, τὸ εὕρημα πολλῆς σκέψιος Hp. VM4, cf. Pl. Alc. 1.130d; βραχείας ςκέψις Id. Tht. 201a; ϝέμειν ςκέψις take thought of a thing, v. l. in E. Hi1323; ἐνθεὶς τῇ τέχνῃ ςκέψις Ar. Ra. 974; ςκέψις ποιεῖσθαι Pl. Phdr. 237d; ςκέψις προβέβληκας Id. Phlb. 65d; ςκέψις λόγων Id. R. 336e; ςκέψις περί τινος inquiry into, speculation on a thing, Id. Grg. 487e, etc.; περί τι Id. Lg. 636d;ἐπὶ σκέψιν τινὸς ἐλθεῖν X. Oec. 6.13.2. speculation, inquiry,ταῦτα ἐξωτερικωτέρας ἐστὶ σκέψεως Arist. Pol. 1254a34; ἔξω τῆς νῦν ςκέψεως Id. Ph. 228a20; οὐκ οἰκεῖα τῆς παρούσης ςκέψις Id. EN 1155b9, etc., also hesitation, doubt, esp. of the Sceptic or Pyrthonic philosophers, AP 7. 576 (Jul.); the Sceptic philosophy, S. E. P. 1.5; οἱ ἀπὸ τῆς ςκέψεως, the Sceptics, ib. 229. in politics, resolution, decree, συνεδρίον Hdn. 4.3.9, cf. Poll. 6.178. If scepticism attacks common sense and fails, Grice seems to be implicating, that ordinary language philosophy is a good antidote to scepticism. Since what language other than ordinary language does common sense speak? Well, strictly, common sense doesnt speak. The man in the street does. Grice addresses this topic in a Mooreian way in a later essay, also repr. in Studies, Moore and philosophers paradoxes, repr. in Studies. As with his earlier Common sense and scepticism, Grice tackles Moores and Malcolms claim that ordinary language, so-called, solves a few of philosophers paradoxes. Philosopher is Grices witty way to generalise over your common-or-garden, any, philosopher, especially of the type he found eccentric, the sceptic included. Grice finds this or that problem in this overarching Cantabrigian manoeuvre, as over-simplifying a pretty convoluted terrain. While he cherishes Austins Some like Witters, but Moores MY man! Grice finds Moore too Cantabrigian to his taste. While an Oxonian thoroughbred, Grice is a bit like Austin, Some like Witters, but Moores my man, with this or that caveat. Again, as with his treatment of Descartes or Locke, Grice is hardly interested in finding out what Moore really means. He is a philosopher, not a historian of philosophy, and he knows it. While Grice agrees with Austins implicature that Moore goes well above Witters, if that is the expression (even if some like him), we should find the Oxonian equivalent to Moore. Grice would not Names Ryle, since he sees him, and his followers, almost every day. There is something apostolic about Moore that Grice enjoys, which is just as well, seeing that Moore is one of the twelve. Grice found it amusing that the members of The Conversazione Society would still be nickNamesd apostles when their number exceeded the initial 12. Grice spends some time exploring what Malcolm, a follower of Witters, which does not help, as it were, has to say about Moore in connection with that particularly Oxonian turn of phrase, such as ordinary language is. For Malcolms Moore, a paradox by philosopher [sic], including the sceptic, arises when philosopher [sic], including the sceptic, fails to abide by the dictates of ordinary language. It might merit some exploration if Moore’s defence of common sense is against: the sceptic may be one, but also the idealist. Moore the realist, armed with ordinary language attacks the idealists claim. The idealist is sceptical of the realists claim. But empiricist idealism (Bradley) has at Oxford as good pedigree as empiricist realism (Cook Wilson). Malcolm’s simplifications infuriate Grice, and ordinary language has little to offer in the defense of common sense realism against sceptical empiricist idealism. Surely the ordinary man says ridiculous, or silly, as Russell prefers, things, such as Smith is lucky, Departed spirits walk along this road on their way to Paradise, I know there are infinite stars, and I wish I were Napoleon, or I wish that I had been Napoleon, which does not mean that the utterer wishes that he were like Napoleon, but that he wishes that he had lived not in the his century but in the XVIIIth century. Grice is being specific about this. It is true that an ordinary use of language, as Malcolm suggests, cannot be self-contradictory unless the ordinary use of language is defined by stipulation as not self-contradictory, in which case an appeal to ordinary language becomes useless against this or that paradox by Philosopher. I wish that I had been Napoleon seems to involve nothing but an ordinary use of language by any standard but that of freedom from absurdity. I wish that I had been Napoleon is not, as far as Grice can see, philosophical, but something which may have been said and meant by numbers of ordinary people. Yet, I wish that I had been Napoleon is open to the suspicion of self-contradictoriness, absurdity, or some other kind of meaninglessness. And in this context suspicion is all Grice needs. By uttering I wish that I had been Napoleon U hardly means the same as he would if he uttered I wish I were like Napoleon. I wish that I had been Napoleon is suspiciously self-contradictory, absurd, or meaningless, if, as uttered by an utterer in a century other than the XVIIIth century, say, the utterer is understood as expressing the proposition that the utterer wishes that he had lived in the XVIIIth century, and not in his century, in which case he-1 wishes that he had not been him-1? But blame it on the buletic. That Moore himself is not too happy with Malcolms criticism can be witnessed by a cursory glimpse at hi reply to Malcolm. Grice is totally against this view that Malcolm ascribes to Moore as a view that is too broad to even claim to be true. Grices implicature is that Malcolm is appealing to Oxonian turns of phrase, such as ordinary language, but not taking proper Oxonian care in clarifying the nuances and stuff in dealing with, admittedly, a non-Oxonian philosopher such as Moore. When dealing with Moore, Grice is not necessarily concerned with scepticism. Time is unreal, e.g. is hardly a sceptic utterance. Yet Grice lists it as one of Philosophers paradoxes. So, there are various to consider here. Grice would start with common sense. That is what he does when he reprints this essay in WOW, with his attending note in both the preface and the Retrospective epilogue on how he organizes the themes and strands. Common sense is one keyword there, with its attending realism. Scepticism is another, with its attending empiricist idealism. It is intriguing that in the first two essays opening Grices explorations in semantics and metaphysics it seems its Malcolm, rather than the dryer Moore, who interests Grice most. While he would provide exegeses of this or that dictum by Moore, and indeed, Moore’s response to Malcolm, Grice seems to be more concerned with applications of his own views. Notably in Philosophers paradoxes. The fatal objection Grice finds for the paradox propounder (not necessarily a sceptic, although a sceptic may be one of the paradox propounders) significantly rests on Grices reductive analysis of meaning that  as ascribed to this or that utterer U. Grice elaborates on circumstances that hell later take up in the Retrospective epilogue. I find myself not understanding what I mean is dubiously acceptable. If meaning, Grice claims, is about an utterer U intending to get his addressee A to believe that U ψ-s that p, U must think there is a good chance that A will recognise what he is supposed to believe, by, perhaps, being aware of the Us practice or by a supplementary explanation which might come from U. In which case, U should not be meaning what Malcolm claims U might mean. No utterer should intend his addressee to believe what is conceptually impossible, or incoherent, or blatantly false (Charles Is decapitation willed Charles Is death.), unless you are Queen in Through the Looking Glass. I believe five impossible things before breakfast, and I hope youll soon get the proper training to follow suit. Cf. Tertulian, Credo, quia absurdum est. Admittedly, Grice edits the Philosophers paradoxes essay. It is only Grices final objection which is repr. in WOW, even if he provides a good detailed summary of the previous sections. Grice appeals to Moore on later occasions. In Causal theory, Grice lists, as a third philosophical mistake, the opinion by Malcolm that Moore did not know how to use knowin a sentence. Grice brings up the same example again in Prolegomena. The use of factive know of Moore may well be a misuse. While at Madison, Wisconsin, Moore lectures at a hall eccentrically-built with indirect lighting simulating sun rays, Moore infamously utters, I know that there is a window behind that curtain, when there is not. But it is not the factiveness Grice is aiming at, but the otiosity Malcolm misdescribes in the true, if baffling, I know that I have two hands. In Retrospective epilogue, Grice uses M to abbreviate Moore’s fairy godmother – along with G (Grice), A (Austin), R (Ryle) and Q (Quine)! One simple way to approach Grices quandary with Malcolm’s quandary with Moore is then to focus on know. How can Malcolm claim that Moore is guilty of misusing know? The most extensive exploration by Grice on know is in Grices third James lecture (but cf. his seminar on Knowledge and belief, and his remarks on some of our beliefs needing to be true, in Meaning revisited. The examinee knows that the battle of Waterloo was fought in 1815. Nothing odd about that, nor about Moores uttering I know that these are my hands. Grice is perhaps the only one of the Oxonian philosophers of Austins play group who took common sense realsim so seriously, if only to crticise Malcoms zeal with it. For Grice, common-sense realism = ordinary language, whereas for the typical Austinian, ordinary language = the language of the man in the street. Back at Oxford, Grice uses Malcolm to contest the usual criticism that Oxford ordinary-language philosophers defend common-sense realist assumptions just because the way non-common-sense realist philosopher’s talk is not ordinary language, and even at Oxford. Cf. Flews reference to Joness philosophical verbal rubbish in using self as a noun. Grice is infuriated by all this unclear chatter, and chooses Malcolms mistreatment of Moore as an example. Grice is possibly fearful to consider Austins claims directly! In later essays, such as ‘the learned’ and ‘the lay,’ Grice goes back to the topic criticising now the scientists jargon as an affront to the ordinary language of the layman that Grice qua philosopher defends. Refs.: The obvious source is the essay on scepticism in WoW, but there are allusions in “Prejudices and predilections, and elsewhere, in The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

semantic: Grice would freely use ‘semantic,’ and the root for ‘semantics,’ that Grice does use, involves the richest root of all Grecian roots: the ‘semion’! σημεῖον , τό, Ion. σημήϊον , Dor. σα_μήϊον IG12(3).452 (Thera, iv B.C.), σα_μεῖον IPE12.352.25 (Chersonesus, ii B.C.), IG5(1).1390.16 (Andania, i B.C.), σα_μᾶον CIG5168 (Cyrene):—= σῆμα in all senses, and more common in Prose, but never in Hom. or Hes.:  A.mark by which a thing is known, Hdt.2.38; σῆμα , Dor. σᾶμα Berl.Sitzb.1927.161 (Cyrene), etc.: ατος, τό:— A.sign, mark, token, Il.10.466, 23.326, Od.19.250, etc.; Grice lectured not only on Cat. But the next, De Int. As Arsitotle puts it, an expression is a symbol (symbolon) or sign (semeion) of an affections or impression (pathematon) of the soul (psyche). An affection of the soul, of which a word is  primarily a sign, are the same for the whole of mankind, as is also objects (pragmaton) of which the affections is a representation or likenes, image, or copiy (homoiomaton).  [De Int., 1.16a4]  while Grice is NOT concerned about the semantics of utterers meaning (how could he, when he analyses  means  in terms of  intends , he is about the semantics of  expression-meaning. Grices second stage (expression meaing) of his programme about meaning begins with specifications of means as applied to x, a token of X. He is having Tarski and Davidson in their elaborations of schemata like ‘p’ ‘means’ that p. ‘Snow is white’ ‘means’ that snow is white, and stuff! Grice was especially concerned with combinatories, for both unary and dyadic operators, and with multiple quantifications within a first-order predicate calculus with identity. Since in Grice’s initial elaboration on meaning he relies on Stevenson, it is worth exploring how ‘semantics’ and ‘semiotics’ were interpreted by Peirce and the emotivists. Stevenson’s main source is however in the other place, though, under Stevenson. Refs.: The main sources are his lectures on language and reality – part of them repr. in WOW. The keywords under ‘communication,’ and ‘signification,’ that Grice occasionally uses ‘the total signification’ of a remark, above, BANC.

semiological: or is it semiotics? Cf. semiological, semotic. Since Grice uses ‘philosophical psychology’ and ‘philosopical biology,’ it may do to use ‘semiology,’ indeed ‘philosophical semiology,’ here.  Oxonian semiotics is unique. Holloway published his “Language and Intelligence” and everyone was excited. It is best to see this as Grices psychologism. Grice would rarely use ‘intelligent,’ less so the more pretentious, ‘intelligence,’ as a keyword. If he is doing it, it is because what he saw as the misuse of it by Ryle and Holloway. Holloway, a PPE, is a tutorial fellow in philosophy at All Souls. He acknowledges Ryle as his mentor. (Holloway also quotes from Austin). Grice was amused that J. N. Findlay, in his review of Holloway’s essay in “Mind,” compares Holloway to C. W. Morris, and cares to cite the two relevant essay by Morris: The Foundation in the theory of signs, and Signs, Language, and Behaviour. Enough for Grice to feel warmly justified in having chosen another New-World author, Peirce, for his earlier Oxford seminar. Morris studied under G. H. Mead. But is ‘intelligence’ part of The Griceian Lexicon?Well, Lewis and Short have ‘interlegere,’ to chose between. The entry is ‘interlĕgo , lēgi, lectum, 3, v. a., I’. Lewis and Short render it as “to cull or pluck off here and there (poet. and postclass.).in tmesi) uncis Carpendae manibus frondes, interque legendae, Verg. G. 2, 366: “poma,” Pall. Febr. 25, 16; id. Jun. 5, 1.intellĕgo (less correctly intellĭgo), exi, ectum (intellexti for intellexisti, Ter. Eun. 4, 6, 30; Cic. Att. 13, 32, 3: I.“intellexes for intellexisses,” Plaut. Cist. 2, 3, 81; subj. perf.: “intellegerint,” Sall. H. Fragm. 1, 41, 23 Dietsch), 3, v. a. inter-lego, to see into, perceive, understand. I. Lit. A. Lewis and Short render as “to perceive, understand, comprehend,” Cf. Grice on his handwriting being legible to few. And The child is an adult as being UNintelligible until the creature is produced. In “Aspects,” he mentions flat rationality, and certain other talents that are more difficult for the philosopher to conceptualise, such as nose (i.e. intuitiveness), acumen, tenacity, and such. Grices approach is Pological. If Locke had used intelligent to refer to Prince Maurices parrot, Grice wants to find criteria for intelligent as applied to his favourite type of P, rather (intelligent, indeed rational.). Refs.: The most specific essay is his lecture on Peirce, listed under ‘communication, above. A reference to ‘criteria of intelligence relates. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

sense-datum: this is Grice on sense-datum. Cf. sensum. Lewis and Short have “sentĭo,” which they render, aptly, as “to sense,” ‘to discern by the senses; to feel, hear, see, etc.; to perceive, be sensible of (syn. percipio).” Note that Price is also cited by Grice in Personal identity. Grice: That pillar box seems red to me. The locus classicus in the philosophical literature for Grices implicatum. Grice introduces a dout-or-denial condition for an utterance of a phenomenalist report (That pillar-box seems red to me). Grice attacks neo-Wittgensteinian approaches that regard the report as _false_. In a long excursus on implication, he compares the phenomenalist report with utterances like He has beautiful handwriting (He is hopeless at philosophy), a particularised conversational implicatum; My wife is in the kitchen or the garden (I have non-truth-functional grounds to utter this), a generalised conversational implicatum; She was poor but she was honest (a Great-War witty (her poverty and her honesty contrast), a conventional implicatum; and Have you stopped beating your wife? an old Oxonian conundrum. You have been beating your wife, cf. Smith has not ceased from eating iron, a presupposition. More importantly, he considers different tests for each concoction! Those for the conversational implicatum will become crucial: cancellability, calculability, non-detachability, and indeterminacy. In the proceedings he plays with something like the principle of conversational helpfulness, as having a basis on a view of conversation as rational co-operation, and as giving the rationale to the implicatum. Past the excursus, and back to the issue of perception, he holds a conservative view as presented by Price at Oxford. One interesting reprint of Grices essay is in Daviss volume on Causal theories, since this is where it belongs! White’s response is usually ignored, but shouldnt. White is an interesting Australian philosopher at Oxford who is usually regarded as a practitioner of ordinary-language philosophy. However, in his response, White hardly touches the issue of the implicature with which Grice is primarily concerned. Grice found that a full reprint from the PAS in a compilation also containing the James Harvard would be too repetitive. Therefore, he omits the excursus on implication. However, the way Grice re-formulates what that excursus covers is very interesting. There is the conversational implicatum, particularised (Smith has beautiful handwriting) and generalised (My wife is in the kitchen or in the garden). Then there is the præsuppositum, or presupposition (You havent stopped beating your wife). Finally, there is the conventional implicatum (She was poor, but she was honest). Even at Oxford, Grices implicature goes, philosophers ‒ even Oxonian philosophers ‒ use imply for all those different animals! Warnock had attended Austins Sense and Sensibilia (not to be confused with Sense and Sensibility by Austen), which Grice found boring, but Warnock didnt because Austin reviews his "Berkeley." But Warnock, for obvious reasons, preferred philosophical investigations with Grice. Warnock reminisces that Grice once tells him, and not on a Saturday morning, either, How clever language is, for they find that ordinary language does not need the concept of a visum. Grice and Warnock spent lovely occasions exploring what Oxford has as the philosophy of perception. While Grice later came to see philosophy of perception as a bit or an offshoot of philosophical psychology, the philosophy of perception is concerned with that treasured bit of the Oxonian philosophers lexicon, the sense-datum, always in the singular! The cause involved is crucial. Grice plays with an evolutionary justification of the material thing as the denotatum of a perceptual judgement. If a material thing causes the sense-datum of a nut, that is because the squarrel (or squirrel) will not be nourished by the sense datum of the nut; only by the nut! There are many other items in the Grice Collection that address the topic of perception – notably with Warnock, and criticizing members of the Ryle group like Roxbee-Cox (on vision, cf. visa ‒ taste, and perception, in general – And we should not forget that Grice contributed a splendid essay on the distinction of the senses to Butlers Analytic philosophy, which in a way, redeemed a rather old-fashioned discipline by shifting it to the idiom of the day, the philosophy of perception: a retrospective, with Warnock, the philosophy of perception, : perception, the philosophy of perception, visum. Warnock was possibly the only philosopher at Oxford Grice felt congenial enough to engage in different explorations in the so-called philosophy of perception. Their joint adventures involved the disimplicature of a visum. Grice later approached sense data in more evolutionary terms: a material thing is to be vindicated transcendentally, in the sense that it is a material thing (and not a sense datum or collection thereof) that nourishes a creature like a human. Grice was particularly grateful to Warnock. By reprinting the full symposium on “Causal theory” of perception in his influential s. of Oxford Readings in Philosophy, Warnock had spread Grices lore of implicature all over! In some parts of the draft he uses more on visa, vision, vision, with Warnock, vision. Of the five senses, Grice and Warnock are particularly interested in seeing. As Grice will put it later, see is a factive. It presupposes the existence of the event reported after the that-clause; a visum, however, as an intermediary between the material thing and the perceiver does not seem necessary in ordinary discourse. Warnock will reconsider Grices views too (On what is seen, in Sibley). While Grice uses vision, he knows he is interested in Philosophers paradox concerning seeing, notably Witters on seeing as, vision, taste and the philosophy of perception, vision, seeing. As an Oxonian philosopher, Grice was of course more interested in seeing than in vision. He said that Austin would criticise even the use of things like sensation and volition, taste, The Grice Papers, keyword: taste, the objects of the five senses, the philosophy of perception, perception, the philosophy of perception; philosophy of perception, vision, taste, perception. Mainly with Warnock. Warnock repr. Grice’s “Causal theory” in his influential Reading in Philosophy, The philosophy of perception, perception, with Warnock, with Warner; perception. Warnock learns about perception much more from Grice than from Austin, taste, The philosophy of perception, the philosophy of perception, notes with Warnock on visum, : visum, Warnock, Grice, the philosophy of perception.  Grice kept the lecture notes to a view of publishing a retrospective. Warnock recalled Grice saying, how clever language is! Grice took the offer by Harvard University Press, and it was a good thing he repr. part of “Causal theory.” However, the relevant bits for his theory of conversation as rational co-operation lie in the excursus which he omitted. What is Grices implicature: that one should consider the topic rather than the method here, being sense datum, and causation, rather than conversational helpfulness. After all, That pillar box seems red to me, does not sound very helpful. But the topic of Causal theory is central for his view of conversation as rational co-operation. Why? P₁ gets an impression of danger as caused by the danger out there. He communicates the danger to P₁, causing in P₂ some behaviour. Without causation, or causal links, the very point of offering a theory of conversation as rational co-operation seems minimized. On top, as a metaphysician, he was also concerned with cause simpliciter. He was especially proud that Price’s section on the casual theory of perception, from his Belief, had been repr. along with his essay in the influential volume by Davis on “Causal theories.” In “Actions and events,” Grice further explores cause now in connection with Greek aitia. As Grice notes, the original usage of this very Grecian item is the one we find in rebel without a cause, cause-to, rather than cause-because. The two-movement nature of causing is reproduced in the conversational exchange: a material thing causes a sense datum which causes an expression which gets communicated, thus causing a psychological state which will cause a behaviour. This causation is almost representational. A material thing or a situation cannot govern our actions and behaviours, but a re-præsentatum of it might. Govern our actions and behaviour is Grices correlate of what a team of North-Oxfordshire cricketers can do for North-Oxfordshire: what North Oxfordshire cannot do for herself, Namesly, engage in a game of cricket! In Retrospective epilogue he casts doubts on the point of his causal approach. It is a short paragraph that merits much exploration. Basically, Grice is saying his causalist approach is hardly an established thesis. He also proposes a similar serious objection to his view in Some remarks about the senses, the other essay in the philosophy of perception in Studies. As he notes, both engage with some fundamental questions in the philosophy of perception, which is hardly the same thing as saying that they provide an answer to each question! Grice: The issue with which I have been mainly concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. Examples which occur to me are the following six. You cannot see a knife ‘as’ a knife, though you may see what is not a knife ‘as’ a knife (keyword: ‘seeing as’). When he said he ‘knew’ that the objects before him were human hands, Moore was guilty of misusing ‘know.’ For an occurrence to be properly said to have a ‘cause,’ it must be something abnormal or unusual (keyword: ‘cause’). For an action to be properly described as one for which the agent is ‘responsible,’ it must be the sort of action for which people are condemned (keyword: responsibility). What is actual is not also possible (keyword: actual). What is known by me to be the case is not also believed by me to be the case (keyword: ‘know’ – cf. Urmson on ‘scalar set’). And cf. with the extra examples he presents in “Prolegomena.” I have no doubt that there will be other candidates besides the six which I have mentioned. I must emphasize that I am not saying that all these examples are importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for all I know, they may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am merely suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detectcd, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are. “Causal theory”, knowledge and belief, knowledge, belief, philosophical psychology. Grice: the doxastic implicatum. I know only implicates I do not believe. The following is a mistake by a philosopher. What is known by me to be the case is not also believed by me to be the case. The topic had attracted the attention of some Oxonian philosophers such as Urmson in Parenthetical verbs. Urmson speaks of a scale: I know can be used parenthetically, as I believe can. For Grice, to utter I believe is obviously to make a weaker conversational move than you would if you utter I know. And in this case, an approach to informativeness in terms of entailment is in order, seeing that I know entails I believe. A is thus allowed to infer that the utterer is not in a position to make the stronger claim. The mechanism is explained via his principle of conversational helpfulness. Philosophers tend two over-use these two basic psychological states, attitudes, or stances. Grice is concerned with Gettier-type cases, and also the factivity of know versus the non-factivity of believe. Grice follows the lexicological innovations by Hintikka: the logic of belief is doxastic; the logic of knowledge is epistemic. The last thesis that Grice lists in Causal theory that he thinks rests on a big mistake he formulates as: What is known by me to be the case is NOT also believed by me to be the case. What are his attending remarks? Grice writes: The issue with which I have been mainly concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An example which occurs to me is the following: What is known by me to be the case is not also believed by me to be the case. I must emphasise that I am not saying that this example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticising, only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am merely suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what SORT of nuances they are! The ætiological implicatum. Grice. For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be something abnormal or unusual. This is an example Grice lists in Causal theory but not in Prolegomena. But cf. ‘responsible’ – and Hart and Honoré on accusation -- accusare "call to account, make complaint against," from ad causa, from “ad,” with regard to, as in ‘ad-’) + causa, a cause; a lawsuit,’ v. cause. For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be something abnormal or unusual. Similar commentary to his example on responsible/condemnable apply. The objector may stick with the fact that he is only concerned with proper utterances. Surely Grice wants to go to a pre-Humeian account of causation, possible Aristotelian, aetiologia. Where everything has a cause, except, for Aristotle, God! What are his attending remarks? Grice writes: The issue with which I have been mainly concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An example which occurs to me is the following: What is known by me to be the case is not also believed by me to be the case. I must emphasise that I am not saying that this example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophising. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am merely suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are! Causal theory, cause, causality, causation, conference, colloquium, Stanford, cause, metaphysics, the abnormal/unusual implicatum, ætiology, ætiological implicatum. Grice: the ætiological implicatum. Grices explorations on cause are very rich. He is concerned with some alleged misuse of cause in ordinary language. If as Hume suggests, to cause is to will, one would say that the decapitation of Charles I wills his death, which sounds harsh, if not ungrammatical, too. Grice later relates cause to the Greek aitia, as he should. He notes collocations like rebel without a cause. For the Greeks, or Grecians, as he called them, and the Griceians, it is a cause to which one should be involved in elucidating.  A ‘cause to’ connects with the idea of freedom. Grice was constantly aware of the threat of mechanism, and his idea was to provide philosophical room for the idea of finality, which is not mechanistically derivable. This leads him to discussion of overlap and priority of, say, a physical-cum-physiological versus a psychological theory explaining this or that piece of rational behaviour. Grice can be Wittgensteinian when citing Anscombes translation: No psychological concept without the behaviour the concept is brought to explain.  It is best to place his later treatment of cause with his earlier one in Causal theory. It is surprising Grice does not apply his example of a mistake by a philosopher to the causal bit of his causal theory. Grice states the philosophical mistake as follows: For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be something abnormal or unusual. This is an example Grice lists in Causal theory but not in Prolegomena. For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be something abnormal or unusual. A similar commentary to his example on responsible/condemnable applies: The objector may stick with the fact that he is only concerned with PROPER utterances. Surely Grice wants to embrace a pre-Humeian account of causation, possible Aristotelian. Keyword: Aitiologia, where everything has a cause, except, for Aristotle, God! What are his attending remarks? Grice writes: The issue with which I have been mainly concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would Grice thinks need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which Grice has been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. One example which occurs to Grice is the following: For an occurrence to be properly said to have a cause, it must be something abnormal or unusual. Grice feels he must emphasise that he is not saying that this example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am merely suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are! Re: responsibility/condemnation. Cf. Mabbott, Flew on punishment, Philosophy. And also Hart. At Corpus, Grice enjoys his tutor Hardies resourcefulness in the defence of what may be a difficult position, a characteristic illustrated by an incident which Hardie himself once told Grice about himself. Hardie had parked his car and gone to a cinema. Unfortunately, Hardie had parked his car on top of one of the strips on the street by means of which traffic-lights were, at the time, controlled by the passing traffic. As a result, the lights are jammed, and it requires four policemen to lift Hardies car off the strip. The police decides to prosecute. Grice indicated to Hardie that this hardly surprised him and asked him how he fared. Oh, Hardie says, I got off. Then Grice asks Hardie how on earth he managed that! Quite simply, Hardie answers. I just invoked Mills method of difference. The police charged me with causing an obstruction at 4 p.m. I told the police that, since my car was parked at 2 p.m., it could not have been my car which caused the obstruction at 4 p.m. This relates to an example in Causal theory that he Grice does not discuss in Prolegomena, but which may relate to Hart, and closer to Grice, to Mabbotts essay on Flew on punishment, in Philosophy. Grice states the philosophical mistake as follows: For an action to be properly described as one for which the agent is responsible, it must be thc sort of action for which people are condemned. As applied to Hardie. Is Hardie irresponsible? In any case, while condemnable, he was not! Grice writes: The issue with which I have been mainly concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An example which occurs to me is the following: For an action to be properly described as one for which the agent is responsible, it must be the sort of action for which people are condemned. I must emphasise that I am not saying that this example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am merely suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are. The modal example, what is actual is not also possible, should discussed under Indicative conditonals, Grice on Macbeth’s implicature: seeing a dagger as a dagger. Grice elaborates on this in Prolegomena, but the austerity of Causal theory is charming, since he does not give a quote or source. Obviously, Witters. Grice writes: Witters might say that one cannot see a knife as a knife, though one may see what is not a knife as a knife. The issue, Grice notes, with which I have been mainly concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An example which occurs to Grice is the following: You cannot see a knife as a knife, though you may see what is not a knife as a knife. Grice feels that he must emphasise that he is not saying that this example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. I am merely suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are! Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable as this which now I draw. Thou marshallst me the way that I was going; and such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o the other senses, Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, and on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, which was not so before. Theres no such thing: It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes. Now oer the one halfworld Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtaind sleep; witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecates offerings, and witherd murder, Alarumd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howls his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. With Tarquins ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell that summons thee to heaven or to hell. The Moore example is used both in “Causal theory” and “Prolegomena.” But the use in “Causal Theory” is more austere: Philosophers mistake: Malcolm: When Moore said he knew that the objects before him were human hands, he was guilty of misusing the word know. Grice writes: The issue with which I have been mainly concerned may be thought rather a fine point, but it is certainly not an isolated one. There are several philosophical theses or dicta which would I think need to be examined in order to see whether or not they are sufficiently parallel to the thesis which I have been discussing to be amenable to treatment of the same general kind. An example which occurs to me is the following: When Moore said he knew that the objects before him were human hands, he was guilty of misusing the word know. I must emphasise that I am not saying that this example is importantly similar to the thesis which I have been criticizing, only that, for all I know, it may be. To put the matter more generally, the position adopted by my objector seems to me to involve a type of manoeuvre which is characteristic of more than one contemporary mode of philosophizing. I am not condemning this kind of manoeuvre. Grice is merely suggesting that to embark on it without due caution is to risk collision with the facts. Before we rush ahead to exploit the linguistic nuances which we have detected, we should make sure that we are reasonably clear what sort of nuances they are! So surely Grice is meaning: I know that the objects before me are human hands as uttered by Moore is possibly true. Grice was amused by the fact that while at Madison, Wisc., Moore gave the example: I know that behind those curtains there is a window. Actually he was wrong, as he soon realised when the educated Madisonians corrected him with a roar of unanimous laughter. You see, the lecture hall of the University of Wisconsin at Madison is a rather, shall we say, striking space. The architect designed the lecture hall with a parapet running around the wall just below the ceiling, cleverly rigged with indirect lighting to create the illusion that sun light is pouring in through windows from outside. So, Moore comes to give a lecture one sunny day. Attracted as he was to this eccentric architectural detail, Moore gives an illustration of certainty as attached to common sense. Pointing to the space below the ceiling, Moore utters. We know more things than we think we know. I know, for example, that the sunlight shining in from outside proves  At which point he was somewhat startled (in his reserved Irish-English sort of way) when his audience burst out laughing! Is that a proof of anything? Grice is especially concerned with I seem He needs a paradeigmatic sense-datum utterance, and intentionalist as he was, he finds it in I seem to see a red pillar box before me. He is relying on Paul. Grice would generalise a sense datum by φ I seem to perceive that the alpha is phi. He agrees that while cause may be too much, any sentence using because will do: At a circus: You seem to be seeing that an elephant is coming down the street because an elephant is coming down the street. Grice found the causalist theory of perception particularly attractive since its objection commits one same mistake twice: he mischaracterises the cancellable implicatum of both seem and cause! While Grice is approaching the philosophical item in the philosophical lexicon, perceptio, he is at this stage more interested in vernacular that- clauses such as sensing that, or even more vernacular ones like seeming that, if not seeing that! This is of course philosophical (cf. aesthetikos vs. noetikos), and L and S have “perceptĭo,” f. perceptio, as used by Cicero (Ac. 2, 7, 22) translating catalepsis, and which they render as “a taking, receiving; a gathering in, collecting;’ frugum fruetuumque reliquorum, Cic. Off. 2, 3, 12: fructuum;’ also as perception, comprehension, cf.: notio, cognition; animi perceptiones, notions, ideas; cognitio aut perceptio, aut si verbum e verbo volumus comprehensio, quam κατάληψιν illi vocant; in philosophy, direct apprehension of an object by the mind, Zeno Stoic.1.20, Luc. Par. 4, al.; τῶν μετεώρων;” ἀκριβὴς κ. Certainty; pl., perceptions, Stoic.2.30, Luc. Herm.81, etc.; introduced into Latin by Cicero, Plu. Cic. 40. As for “causa” Grice is even more sure he was exploring a time-honoured philosophical topic. The entry in L and S is “causa,’ perh. root “cav-“ of “caveo,” prop. that which is defended or protected; cf. “cura,” and that they render as, unhelpfully, as “cause,” “that by, on account of, or through which any thing takes place or is done;” “a cause, reason, motive, inducement;” also, in gen., an occasion, opportunity; oeffectis;  factis, syn. with ratio, principium, fons, origo, caput; excusatio, defensio; judicium, controversia, lis; partes, actio; condicio, negotium, commodum, al.); correlated to aition, or aitia, cause, δι᾽ ἣν αἰτίην ἐπολέμησαν,” cf. Pl. Ti. 68e, Phd. 97a sq.; on the four causes of Arist. v. Ph. 194b16, Metaph. 983a26: αἰ. τοῦ γενέσθαι or γεγονέναι Pl. Phd. 97a; τοῦ μεγίστου ἀγαθοῦ τῇ πόλει αἰτία ἡ κοινωνία Id. R. 464b: αἰτίᾳ for the sake of, κοινοῦ τινος ἀγαθοῦ.” Then there is “αἴτιον” (cf. ‘αἴτιος’) is used like “αἰτία” in the sense of cause, not in that of ‘accusation.’ Grice goes back to perception at a later stage, reminiscing on his joint endeavours with akin Warnock, Ps karulise elatically, potching and cotching obbles, Pirotese, Pirotese, creature construction, philosophical psychology. Grice was fascinated by Carnaps Ps which karulise elatically. Grice adds potching for something like perceiving and cotching for something like cognising. With his essay Some remarks about the senses, Grice introduces the question by which criterion we distinguish our five senses into the contemporary philosophy of perception. The literature concerning this question is not very numerous but the discussion is still alive and was lately inspired by the volume The Senses2. There are four acknowledged possible answers to the question how we distinguish the senses, all of them already stated by Grice. First, the senses are distinguished by the properties we perceive by them. Second, the senses are distinguished by the phenomenal qualities of the perception itself or as Grice puts it “by the special introspectible character of the experiences” Third, the senses are distinguished by the physical stimuli that are responsible for the relevant perceptions. Fourth, The senses are distinguished by the sense-organs that are (causally) involved in the production of the relevant perceptions. Most contributions discussing this issue reject the third and fourth answers in a very short argumentation. Nearly all philosophers writing on the topic vote either for the first or the second answer. Accordingly, most part of the debate regarding the initial question takes the form of a dispute between these two positions. Or” was a big thing in Oxford philosophy. The only known published work of Wood, our philosophy tutor at Christ Church, was an essay in Mind, the philosophers journal, entitled “Alternative Uses of “Or” ”, a work which was every bit as indeterminate as its title. Several years later he published another paper, this time for the Aristotelian Society, entitled On being forced to a conclusion. Cf. Grice and Wood on the demands of conversational reason. Wood, The force of linguistic rules. Wood, on the implicatum of or in review in Mind of Connor, Logic. The five senses, as Urmson notes, are to see that the sun is shining, to hear that the car collided, to feel that her pulse is beating, to smell that something has been smoking and to taste that. An interesting piece in that it was commissioned by Butler, who knew Grice from his Oxford days. Grice cites Wood and Albritton. Grice is concerned with a special topic in the philosophy of perception, notably the identification of the traditional five senses: vision, audition, taste, smell, and tact. He introduces what is regarded in the philosophical literature as the first thought-experiment, in terms of the senses that Martians may have. They have two pairs of eyes: are we going to allow that they see with both pairs? Grice introduces a sub-division of seeing: a Martian x-s an object with his upper pair of eyes, but he y-s an object with the lower pair of eyes. In his exploration, he takes a realist stance, which respects the ordinary discursive ways to approach issues of perception. A second interesting point is that in allowing this to be repr. in Butlers Analytic philosophy, Grice is demonstrating that analytic philosophers should NOT be obsessed with ordinary language. Butlers compilation, a rather dry one, is meant as a response to the more linguistic oriented ones by Flew (Grices first tutee at St. Johns, as it happens), also published by Blackwell, and containing pieces by Austin, and company. One philosopher who took Grice very seriously on this was Coady, in his The senses of the Martians. Grice provides a serious objection to his own essay in Retrospective epilogue We see with our eyes. I.e. eye is teleologically defined. He notes that his way of distinguishing the senses is hardly an established thesis. Grice actually advances this topic in his earlier Causal theory. Grice sees nothing absurd in the idea that a non-specialist concept should contain, so to speak, a blank space to be filled in by the specialist; that this is so, e.g., in the case of the concept of seeing is perhaps indicated by the consideration that if we were in doubt about the correctness of speaking of a certain creature with peculiar sense-organs as seeing objects, we might well wish to hear from a specialist a comparative account of the human eye and the relevant sense-organs of the creature in question. He returns to the point in Retrospective epilogue with a bit of doxastic humility, We see with our eyes is analytic  ‒ but philosophers should take that more seriously.  Grice tested the playmates of his children, aged 7 and 9, with Nothing can be green and red all over. Instead, Morley Bunker preferred philosophy undergrads. Aint that boring? To give examples: Summer follows Spring was judged analytic by Morley-Bunkers informants, as cited by Sampson, in Making sense (Clarendon) by highly significant majorities in each group of Subjectss, while We see with our eyes was given near-even split votes by each group. Over all, the philosophers were somewhat more consistent with each other than the non-philosophers. But that global finding conceals results for individual sentences that sometimes manifested the opposed tendency. Thus, Thunderstorms are electrical disturbances in the atmosphere is judged analytic by a highly significant majority of the non-philosophers, while a non-significant majority of the philosophers deemed it non-analytic or synthetic. In this case, it seems, philosophical training, surely not brain-washing, induces the realisation that well-established results of contemporary science are not necessary truths. In other cases, conversely, cliches of current philosophical education impose their own mental blinkers on those who undergo it: Nothing can be completely red and green all over is judged analytic by a significant majority of philosophers but only by a non-significant majority of non-philosophers. All in all, the results argue strongly against the notion that our inability to decide consistently whether or not some statement is a necessary truth derives from lack of skill in articulating our underlying knowledge of the rules of our language. Rather, the inability comes from the fact that the question as posed is unreal. We choose to treat a given statement as open to question or as unchallengeable in the light of the overall structure of beliefs which we have individually evolved in order to make sense of our individual experience. Even the cases which seem clearly analytic or synthetic are cases which individuals judge alike because the relevant experiences are shared by the whole community, but even for such cases one can invent hypothetical or suppositional future experiences which, if they should be realised, would cause us to revise our judgements. This is not intended to call into question the special status of the truths of logic, such as either Either it is raining or it is not. He is of course inclined to accept the traditional view according to which logical particles such as not and or are distinct from the bulk of the vocabulary in that the former really are governed by clear-cut inference rules. Grice does expand on the point. Refs.: Under sense-datum, there are groups of essays. The obvious ones are the two essays on the philosophy of perception in WOW. A second group relates to his research with G. J. Warnock, where the keywords are ‘vision,’ ‘taste,’ and ‘perception,’ in general. There is a more recent group with this research with R. Warner. ‘Visum’ and ‘visa’ are good keywords, and cf. the use of ‘senses’ in “Some remarks about the senses,” in BANC.

soul: Grice was not a psychologist. He was a philosopher engaged in philosophical psychology. We should recall that the first rendering that Liddell and Scott give for ‘psyche’ is life!, as per “ψυχή, life; the tripartite division of “ψ., οἱ δὲ περὶ Πλάτωνα καὶ Ἀρχύτας καὶ οἱ λοιποὶ Πυθαγόρειοι τὴν ψ. τριμερῆ ἀποφαίνονται, διαιροῦντες εἰς λογισμὸν καὶ θυμὸν καὶ ἐπιθυμίαν,” Pl.R.439e sqq.; in Arist. “ἡ ψ. τούτοις ὥρισται, θρεπτικῷ, αἰσθητικῷ, διανοητικῷ, κινήσει: πότερον δὲ τοὔτων ἕκαστόν ἐστι ψ. ἢ ψυχῆς μόριον;” de An.413b11, cf. PA641b4; “ἡ θρεπτικὴ ψ.” Id.de An.434a22, al.; And Aristotle also has Grice’s favourite, ‘psychic,’ ψυχικός , ή, όν, “of the soul or life, spiritual, opp. “σωματικός, ἡδοναί” Arist.EN1117b28. The compound “psichiologia” is first used in "Psichiologia de ratione animae humanae," (in Bozicevic-Natalis, Vita Marci Maruli Spalatensis). A footnote in “Method,” repr. in “Conception” dates Grice’s lectures at Princeton. Grice is forever grateful to Carnap for having coined ‘pirot,’ or having thought to have coined. Apparently, someone had used the expression before him to mean some sort of exotic fish. He starts by listing this or that a focal problem. The first problem is circularity. He refers to Ryles dispositional behaviouristic analysis. The second focal problem is the alleged analytic status of a psychological law. The third problem concerns some respect for Grices own privileged access to this or that state and this or that avowal of this or that state being incorrigible. The fourth problem concerns the law-selection. He refers to pessimism. He talks of folk-science. B and D are is each predicate-constant in some law L in some psychological theory θ. This or that instantiable of B or D may well be a set or a property or neither. Way of Ramseyified naming and way of Ramseyified definition. Grices way of Ramseyified naming: There is just one predicate-constant boule and just one predicate-consant doxa such that nomological generalization L introducing this or that predicate constant via implicit definition in theory θ obtains and let boule be Namesd buletic  and doxa be Namesd doxastic. Uniqueness is essential since the buletic and the doxastic are assigned as this or that Namess for this or that particular instantiable. But one can dispense with uniqueness. Grices way of Ramseyified description. x holds a buletic attitude just in case there is a predicate-constant boule introduced via implicit definition by nomological generalisation or law within theory θ such that nomological generalization L obtains and x instantiates the boule and x holds a doxastic attitude just in case there is a doxa introduced by implicit definition by nomological generalisation L in theory θ such that nomological generalization L obtains and G instantiates the doxa. Grice trusts he is not overstretching Ramseys original intention. He applies Ramsey-naming and Ramsey-describing to pain. He who hollers is in pain. Or rather, He who is in pain hollers. (Sufficient but not necessary). He rejects disjunctional physicalism on it sounding harsh, as Berkeley puts it, to say that Smiths brains being in such and such a state is a case of, say, judging something to be true on insufficient evidence. He criticises the body-soul identity thesis on dismissing =s main purpose, to license predicate transfers. Grice wasnt sure what his presidential address to the American Philosophical Association will be about. He chose the banal (i.e. the ordinary-language counterpart of something like a need we ascribe to a squirrel to gobble nuts) and the bizarre: the philosophers construction of need and other psychological, now theoretical terms. In the proceedings, Grice creates the discipline of Pology. He cares to mention very many philosophers: Aristotle, Lewis, Myro, Witters, Ramsey, Ryle, and a few others! The essay became popular when, of all people, Block, cited it as a programme in functionalism, which it is! Grices method in functionalist philosophical psychology. Introduces Pology as a creature-construction discipline. Repr. in “Conception,” it reached a wider audience. The essay is highly subdivided, and covers a lot of ground. Grice starts by noting that, contra Ryle, he wants to see psychological predicates as theoretical concepts. The kind of theory he is having in mind is folksy. The first creature he introduces to apply his method is Toby, a squarrel, that is a reconstructed squirrel. Grice gives some principles of Pirotology. Maxims of rational behaviour compound to form what he calls an immanuel, of which The Conversational Immanuel is a part. Grice concludes with a warning against the Devil of Scientism, but acknowledges perhaps he was giving much too credit to Myros influence on this! “Method” in “Conception,” philosophical psychology, Pirotology. The Immanuel section is perhaps the most important from the point of view of conversation as rational cooperation. For he identifies three types of generality: formal, applicational, and content-based. Also, he allows for there being different types of imannuels. Surely one should be the conversational immanuel. Ryle would say that one can have a manual, yet now know how to use it! And theres also the Witters-type problem. How do we say that the conversationalist is following the immanuel? Perhaps the statement is too strong – cf. following a rule – and Grices problems with resultant and basic procedures, and how the former derive from the latter! This connects with Chomsky, and in general with Grices antipathy towards constitutive rules! In “Uncertainty,” Grice had warned that his interpretation of Prichards willing that as a state should not preclude a physicalist analysis, but in Method it is all against physicalism. Grices concern is with every-day psychological explanation, an explanation which employs this or that every-day psychological principle. By such a principle Grice means a relatively stable body of generally-accepted principles, of which the following are examples. If G desires p, and believes (if p, q) other things being equal, G desires q. If G desires p and desires q, other things being equal, G acts on the stronger of the two desires if G acts on either. If G stares at a coloured surface and subsequently stares at a white surface, other things being equal, G will have an after-image. Grice do not intend to suggest that every-day principle is as simple and easy to formulate as these examples. As Grice repeatedly emphasises, the principles we explicitly or implicitly employ are many, varied, rich, and subtle. Take desire. In every-day explanation we exploit an immense richness in the family of expressions that might be thought of as the wanting family; this Jeffrey-type family includes expressions like want, desire, would like to , is eager to, is anxious to, would mind not  , the idea of  appeals to me, is thinking of, etc. Grice remarks that the likeness and differences within this family demand careful attention. The systematic exposition of these likenesses and differences is itself an important and not unpleasant philosophical task. But we are concerned with Grices overall view of psychological explanation, and, to see what Grice thinks, it will be useful first to consider how we would explain the behaviour of a certain sort of robot. Suppose we are presented with a rather peculiar robot, and a diagram that we can use to predict and explain its behaviour. The robot is peculiar in that it has a panel of lights on its forehead ‒ say 64 lights in an 8x8 pattern. Each square represents a possible configuration of lights, and the diagram correlates possible configurations with each other. Some squares are correlated with more than one other square. E. g. ClcC2 means that configuration C is followed by C1 or C2. The diagram describes a finite, non-deterministic automaton. No transition probabilities are given. We can use the diagram to predict and explain the configurations that appear on the robots forehead because the robot is so constructed that the configurations succeed one another in the ways represented in the diagram. So, if we observe configuration C, we can predict that C1 or C2 will follow. If we observe Cl, we can explain its occurrence by pointing out that C must have preceded it. All we can explain so far are configurations of lights. Can we explain behaviour, e. g., the robots raising its left arm? Suppose we are provided with a table which has entries like: if configuraton C occurs at t, the robot raises its arm at t+1. We succeed in predicting and explaining the robots behaviour, except that occasionally our predictions are falsified. The robot does not always work according to the diagram. Temporary electronic defects and vagaries account for the falsified predications. The diagram and table represent the way the robot is designed to work, not the way it always does work. Apart from the infrequent electronically-explained lapses, explanation and prediction proceed untroubled until one day a large number of our predictions are falsified. Suspecting a massive electronic disorder, we return the robot. The manufacturer explains that the robot was programmed to be self-regulating. The robot has an internal representation of the diagram and table we were given, and it was also programmed to use this or that evaluative principle to determine whether to operate in accord with the diagram and table. E.g., suppose the robot is in configuration C and that the immediate successor of C is C 1. The robot determines by this or that evaluative principle not to move into Cl, but to arrive at C2 instead. The robot was engineered so that it will in certain situations employ this or that evaluative principle, and so its states will change, in accord with the results of its evaluations. When we ask for the evaluative principle, it is given to us, but it does not improve our predictive power as much as we may have hoped. The robot has the power to formulate a new subsidiary evaluative principle. It formulates this new principle using its original evaluative principle plus information about the environment and the consequences of its past actions. We may simply not know, at any given time, exactly what subsidiary principle the robot is employing. The robot may to some extent revise or replace its original evaluative principle, i.e., it may, in the light of a principles, original or subsidiary, plus information about its environment and past actions, revise or replace its original principle. So we may not know exactly what original principles the robot is using. When we complain that we have lost our ability to predict and explain the robots behaviour, we are told that the situation is not so bad. First, in programming the robot, an evaluative principle is made immune to revision and replacement, so we can always count on the robots operating with this principle. Second, we are not at a total loss to determine what evaluative principle-subsidiary or otherwise-the robot employs. We possess the diagram and table as well as knowledge of the original evaluative principle. The robot uses the diagram, table, and principles to arrive at a new principle, and we can replicate this process. We can replicate the processes that lead the robot to deviate from the diagram and table. To the extent that we have identified the robots evaluative procedure, we can use it just as the robot does to determine whether it will act in accord with the diagram and table. Of course, there is the problem of determining when the robot will employ its evaluative principle, but we might be provided with a new table with entries like: if C occurs at t, the robot will employ its evaluative principle at t+1. We can often predict and explain the robots behaviour just as we did before the evaluative principle complicated the picture, for the robot does not always employ its evaluative principle to diverge from the diagram and table. On the contrary, it was designed to minimize the use of the principle since their use requires significant time and energy. An important part of Grices view of every-day psychological explanation can be put this way. Such explanation is similar to the explanation and prediction of the robots behaviour. There are a few points to note here. An every-day psychological principle plays a role in explanation and prediction that is similar to the role of the diagram and table. Think of the robots lights as representing a psychological state. Then the diagram and table express relations among complexes consisting of a psychological state and behaviour. An everyday psychological principle clearly expresses such a relations, although this is not all it does.  People use an evaluative principle in ways analogous to the use the robot makes of his. This point is an essential part of Grices view of rationality. Grice holds that the picture of rationality given us by Kantotle as something which essentially functions to regulate, direct, and control a pre-rational impulse, an inclination, and a disposition, is the right picture. One of the things an everyday psychological principle give us is a specification of how a pre-rational soul impulse, inclination, or disposition operates, just as the diagram and table represent how the robot operates apart from employing its evaluative principle. People can, through deliberation, rationally regulate, direct, control and monitor a pre-rational pattern of thought or action just as the robot can regulate, direct, control and monitor its operation in accord with the diagram and table. So what is this evaluative principle people employ? It is included among what we have been calling an everyday psychological principle, for it does not merely specify how our pre-rational part operates. Consider e.g: if a G believes p and that (if p, q) and G believes ~q,  G should stop believing p or stop believing q. Conformity to this principle is a criterion of rationality, although this is not to say that the principle may not have exceptions in quite special circumstances. One important evaluative principle is the conception of eudæmonia. Grice suggests that eudæmonia consists in having a set of ends meeting certain conditions ‒ where an important necessary condition is that the set of ends be suitable for the direction of life, and much of the reflection by Grice is devoted to explaining this condition. Grice suggests that if an individual asks what it is for him to be happy, the answer consists in identifying a system of ends which is a specific and personalized derivative, determined by that individuals character, abilities, and situation in the world, of the system constitutive of eudæmonia in general. This specific and personalized derivative figures prominently in deliberation, for a person may use it to regulate, direct, control, and monitor the inclination of his pre-rational soul. . Third, recall that we imagined that the robot could replace and revise its evaluative principle. Analogously, a person may change his conception of what it is for him to be happy. But we also imagined that the robot had some evaluative principles it could not change. On Grices view, a person has this evaluative principle that cannot change. Not because a person programmed in; rather, it is a principle a person cannot abandon if he is to count as rational. E. g. it is plausible to suggest that a person must, to count as rational, have and employ in deliberation at least some minimal conception of what it is for him to be happy. Also it is plausible to suggest that this conception counts as a conception of happiness only if it is a specific and personalized derivative of a conception of eudæmonia in general. So to count as happy, a person would have to have and employ such a conception. These examples do not, of course, exhaust the range of things one might hope to show necessary to counting as rational. We should note here that our use of rational may be a looser use than Grice himself would indulge in. Grice regards rational as a label for a cluster of notions he would distinguish. Our looseness is an expositional convenience. Fourth, everday psychological predictions and explanations are sometimes falsified-like the prediction and explanations of the robots behaviour. And, just as in the case of the robot, this reveals no defect in everyday psychological explanation. How can this be? In the robot example, the diagram and table specify how the robot is designed to function; obviously, minor deviations from the design do not justify regarding the information in the diagram and table as either false or useless. Can anything similar be true of people? Something somewhat similar is true, according to Grice, and this because everyday psychology has special status. Grice argues that the psychological theory which I envisage would be deficient as a theory to explain behaviour if it did not contain provision for interests in the ascription of psychological states otherwise than as tools for explaining and predicting behaviour, interests, e. g., on the part of one creature to be able to ascribe these rather than those psychological states to another creature because of a concern for the other creature. Within such a theory it should be possible to derive a strong motivation on the part of the creature Subjects to the theory against the abandonment of the central concepts of the theory, and so of the theory itself, a motivation which the creature would or should regard as justified. Indeed, only from within the framework of such a theory Girce think that matters of evaluation, and so, of the evaluation of modes of explanation, can be raised at all. If he conjectures aright, the entrenched system contains the materials needed to justify its own entrenchment; whereas no rival system contains a basis for the justification of anything at all. Suppose the entrenched system contains the materials needed to justify its own entrenchment; whereas no rival system contains a basis for the justification of anything at all. Then while everyday psychology, or some preferred part of it, may not specify how we are designed to think and act, it does specify how we ought to think and act; for there can be no justification for failure to conform to the preferred part of everyday psychology. There is another point which it is worth noting here in passing. If everyday psychology is uniquely self-justifying in the way Grice suggests, we must reject the suggestion that everyday psychology is just a rough and ready theory that we will or could eventually abandon without loss in favour of a more accurate and complete scientific theory of behaviour. Grice remarks that we must be ever watchful against the Devil of Scientism, who would lead us into myopic over-concentration on the nature and importance of knowledge, and of scientific knowledge in particular; the Devil who is even so audacious as to tempt us to call in question the very system of ideas required to make intelligible the idea of calling in question anything at all; and who would even prompt us, in effect, to suggest that since we do not really think but only think that we think, we had better change our minds without undue delay. Now let us turn to meaning. In Meaning revisited, Grice sets out to put one or two of the thoughts he had at various times into some kind of focus, so that there might emerge some sort of sense about not merely what kind of views about the nature of meaning he is inclined to endorse, but also why it should be antecedently plausible to accept this kind of view. When Grice says antecedently plausible, he means plausible for some reasons other than that the view in question offers some prospects of dealing with the intuitive data: the facts about how Grice uses mean, and so on. So he digs just a little bit into the background of the analysis of meaning and its roots in such things as philosophical psychology. It is worth emphasizing the point that the analysis has its roots in philosophical psychology, for one trend in Oxford philosophy has been to regard the study of meaning as first philosophy (Dummett), as providing the framework and the tools for any other philosophical investigation. This is clearly not Grices view. How can the roots of the study of meaning be in philosophical psychology? Consider the utterers meaning. Grice employs his conception of everyday psychological explanation to provide a certain kind of rationale for his account of utterers meaning. The rationale consists essentially of three claims. First, given our general psychological make-up, specified by everyday psychology, and given our environment, it is frequently highly conducive to realizing our ends that we be able to produce beliefs in each other. E. g. suppose I need your help to escape the riptide that is carrying me out to sea. You will help me if you believe I am caught in the riptide. How can I ensure that you will believe that? Second, an especially effective way to produce this belief is to do something m-intending thereby that I am caught in the riptide. Consider what might happen if I do not have such an m-intention. Suppose I just thrash about in the water. I intend you to see that my swimming is ineffective, and to infer therefrom that I am caught. But you might think that I was simply having a good time splashing about, or that I was just pretending to be in trouble. If I can get you to realise that I intend by what I am doing to produce in you the belief that I am caught, that realization will give you a decisive reason to believe that I need help. So I do have a good and decisive reason to m-intend that I am caught. And ‒ and this is the third claim ‒ I have the ability to m-intend that I am caught. It is an everday psychological fact that we can perform actions with the intention-1 that the addressee A believe p; the intention-2a that the audience recognize the intention-1 and the intention-2b that this recognition be part of the audiences reason for accepting p. This is a fact about our pre-rational soul part, analogous to the facts about the robots behaviour which we can read off solely from the diagram and table without any appeal to its evaluative procedures. We are just so designed that we M-intend things at various times. E. g., in the riptide case, I would utter I am caught in the riptide, m-intending you to think that I am caught. These three points show that it is rational for us to be so designed. That is, it is rational for us to be pre-rationally soul structured so as to employ m-intentions. To see why, consider what we are doing in working through the three claims in question. We note that we have a certain pre-rational soul structure involving an m-intention, and we ask what can be said in favour of it. Given our ends and our environment, there is a good decisive reason to have such a pre-rational soul structure. So we discover that the m-intending structure passes rational muster. It does not have to be inhibited. Rather it should be reinforced and guided. The air of paradox in a pre-rational soul structures being rational is easily dispelled. To label a structure pre-rational soul is merely to see it as present and operative independently of any attempt to evaluate whether and how it should be regulated, directed, and controlled. To call such a structure rational is to say that on evaluation one finds a good decisive reason to allow the structure to remain operative instead of trying to inhibit or eliminate it. Grice sometimes expresses the fact that a pre-rational structure is rational by saying that it has a genitorial justification. Suppose we are demi-gods, genitors, as Grice says, designing creatures. We are constructing them out of animal stuff, so we are making creatures that will perceive, desire, hope, fear, think, feel, and so on. The question before us is: exactly what psychological principles should our creatures obey? We want, so to speak, to decide on a specific diagram and table for them. As we work on this problem, we discover that we have a good and decisive reason to make them such that they employ an m-intention, for we have built into them a desire for eudæmonia, and as we survey their environment and their physical powers, it is clear that they have little chance for eudæmonia or even survival unless they employ an m-intention. And, as benevolent genitors, we want them to have every chance of eudæmonia. In appealing to happiness in this way we have departed somewhat from Grices treatment of creature construction. This deviation, which is expositionally convenient here, is corrected in the section on ethics. So as genitors we have a good and decisive reason to make our creatures m-intend. Grice infers from this genitorial myth that it really is rational ‒ or, if one likes, that we really have a good reason-to be so pre-rationally structured that we M-intend. And the inference is a good one, for the technique of genitorial creature construction is a more picturesque way of establishing that M-intending passes rational muster. Grice sometimes uses this creature construction technique to discover what aspects of our pre-rational structure are rational. The idea is that the question as what should we as genitors build into creatures with human psychological capacities living in a human environment is easier to answer than the question as to what aspects of our pre-rational structure are rational. m-intending is one structure that we can cite in answer to both questions. Consider how surprising it would be if language had no word that stood for m-intending. Our considerations reveal it not only as a rational, but as a very important, pre-rational soul structure. Of course, Grice does think we have an expression here: viz., mean. This linguistic thesis combined with the identification of m-intending as a rational pre-rational structure provides a justification of Grices account of utterers meaning. The concluding section of Grices  Meaning revisited is relevant here, as it further illuminates the rational aspect of m-intending (or utterer meaning as Grice calls it in Meaning Revisited). Grice begins by saying that the general idea that he wants to explore, and which seems to me to have some plausibility, is that something has been left out, by me and perhaps by others too, in the analyses, definitions, expansions and so on, of semantic notions, and particularly various notions of meaning. What has been left out has in fact been left out because it is something which everyone regards with horror, at least when in a scientific or theoretical frame of mind: the notion of value. Though I think that in general we want to keep value notions out of our philosophical and scientific enquiries, and some would say out of everything else, we might consider what would happen if we relaxed this prohibition to some extent. If we did, there is a whole range of different kinds of value predicates or expressions which might be admitted in different types of case. To avoid having to choose between them, I am just going to use as a predicate the word optimal the meaning of which could of course be more precisely characterized later. Applying this idea to utterers meaning, Grice makes two suggestions. As a first approximation, what we mean by saying that an utterer, by something he utters, on a particular occasion, means that p, is that he is in the optimal state with respect to communicating, or if you like, to communicating that p. The optimal state, the state in which he has an infinite set of intentions, is in principle unrealisable, so that the utterer U does not strictly speaking mean that p, he is deemed to mean that p. However, he is in a situation which is such that it is legitimate, or perhaps even mandatory, for us to deem him to satisfy the unfulfillable condition. The optimal state is what the analysis of speaker meaning specifies. Counter-examples advanced by Schiffer in Meaning suggest that this state is one in which a speaker has an infinite number of intentions. We will not discuss the counter-examples; we want to consider why it is reasonable to respond to them by granting that the analysis of utterers meaning specifies an unrealizable-but none the less ideal or optimal-state involving having an infinite number of intentions. Consider an analogy. There is in sailing an optimal setting for the sails-a setting that maximizes forward thrust. Any reasonably complete text on sailing will explain at least some of the relevant ærodynamic theory. Now this optimal setting is difficult if not impossible to achieve while actually sailing-given continual shifts in wind direction, the sudden changes of direction caused by waves, and the difficulty in determining airflow patterns by sight. To deal with these practical difficulties, the text supplies numerous rules of thumb which are relatively easy to apply while sailing. Why not just drop the ærodynamic theory altogether and just provide the reader/sailor with the rules of thumb? Because they are rules of thumb. They hold at best other things being equal. To spot exceptions and resolve conflicts as well as to handle situations not covered by the rules, one needs to know what the ærodynamic optimum is. This optimum plays a crucial role in guiding the use of the rules of thumb. Why should common sense psychology not avail itself of various optima in this way? It is plausible to think that it does given Grices view of rationality as something that plays an evaluative and guiding role with respect to pre-rational inclinations and dispositions. Various optima would be especially suited to such a role. And why should utterers meaning not be such an optimum? Indeed, there is some reason to think it is. As for a resultant procedures, what can we say about sentence meaning? Is it possible to provide a rationale for the treatment of sentence meaning in the context of Grices philosophical psychology? The account of sentence meaning has an explanatory role. Consider that a speaker of this or that language can M-intend an extremely wide range of things, and typically his audience will know what he M-intends as soon as the audience hears what is uttered. Attributing resultant procedures to language-users explains these facts. There are a few points to note. Suppose U has the procedure of uttering I know the route if U wants A to think U thinks U knows the route. What does it mean to suppose this? We can understand it as an everday psychological principle. More precisely, the proposed principle is: if a competent communicator wants his addressee A to think the utterer U knows the route, other things being equal, utterer U utters I know the route. This qualifies as an every-day psychological principle and, perhaps most important, like at least some other everyday psychological principles, this principle has a normative aspect. Both knowledge of and conformity to this principle are required if one is to count as a competent speaker. Turning from utterers to audiences, it is, for similar reasons, plausible to suggest that it is an everyday psychological fact that if a competent English speaker hears I know the route, then he will-other things being equal-think the utterer thinks he knows the route. This principle could be derived from the first plus the assumption that speakers are, about certain things, trustworthy. There is nothing mysterious about such everyday psychological principles. They specify part of our psychological make-up, the way we are designed -part of our pre-rational structure, and the fact that we are so designed, certainly explains the range of things we can m-intend and the ease with which we employ such m-intentions. But, and this is the second point, we might have hoped for much more by way of explanation, for there are mysteries here. In particular, what is it for a person to have a resultant procedure? To see what the question asks, imagine having an answer of the form. The utterer U has a resultant procedure P if and only if where the dots are filled out by specification of certain psychological and behavioural features. This would provide us with an informative characterization of the psychological and behavioural capacities underlying language use. Since there are infinitely many resultant procedures, a reasonable way to provide answers would be (given any language) to specify a finite set of basic procedures for that language, from which the infinitely many resultant procedures could be derived (in some suitable sense of derived). Then we would provide a finite set of conditions of the form: U U has basic procedure P_b if and only if where the dots are replaced by a suitable condition. But what counts as a suitable condition? What psychological, behavioural, or other properties does one have to have to count as possessing a certain basic procedure P? As we said, Grice regards this as an open question. Of course, this is not to say that the question is unimportant; on the contrary, it is of fundamental importance if we want to know what capacities underlie language use. One problem about Grices account of meaning still remains: does the appeal to propositions not vitiate the whole project? (Consider section on ethics). One crucial point to consider is the primacy (to use Suppess qualification) of the buletic over the doxastic. Grice was playing with this for some time (Journal of Philosophy). In Method, from the mundane to the recondite, he is playful enough to say that primacy is no big deal, and that, if properly motivated, he might give a reductive analysis of the buletic in terms of the doxastic. But his reductive analysis of the doxastic in terms of the buletic runs as follows: P judges that p iff P wills as follows: given any situation in which P wills some end E and here are two non-empty classes K₁ and K₂ of action types, such that: the performance by P of an action-type belonging to K₁ realises E₁ just in case p obtains, and the performance by the P of an action type belonging to of K₂ will realise E just in case p does not obtain, and here is no third non-empty class K₃ of action types such that the performance by the P of an action type belonging to  will realise E whether p is true or p is false, in such situation, the P is to will that the P performs some action type belonging to K₁. Creature construction allows for an account of freedom that will metaphysically justify absolute value. Frankfurt has become famous for his second-order and higher-order desires. Grice is exploring similar grounds in what comes out as his “Method” (originally APA presidential address, now repr. in “Conception”). Bratman, of Stanford, much influenced by Grice (at Berkeley then) thanks to their Hands-Across-the-Bay programme, helps us to understand this Pological progression towards the idea of strong autonomy or freedom. Recall that Grices Ps combine Lockes very intelligent parrots with Russells and Carnaps nonsensical Ps of which nothing we are told other than they karulise elatically. Grices purpose is to give a little thought to a question. What are the general principles exemplified, in creature-construction, in progressing from one type of P to a higher type? What kinds of steps are being made? The kinds of step with which Grice deals are those which culminate in a licence to include, within the specification of the content of the psychological state of this or that type of P, a range of expressions which would be inappropriate with respect to this lower-type P. Such expressions include this or that connective, this or that quantifier, this or that temporal modifier, this or that mode indicator, this or that modal operator, and (importantly) this or that expression to refer to this or that souly state like  … judges that … and … will that … This or that expression, that is, the availability of which leads to the structural enrichment of the specification of content. In general, these steps will be ones by which this or that item or idea which has, initially, a legitimate place outside the scope of this or that souly instantiable (or, if you will, the expressions for which occur legitimately outside the scope of this or that souly predicate) come to have a legitimate place within the scope of such an instantiable, a step by which, one might say, this or that item or ideas comes to be internalised. Grice is disposed to regard as prototypical the sort of natural disposition or propension which Hume attributes to a person, and which is very important to Hume, viz. the tendency of the soul to spread itself upon objects, i.e. to project into the world items which, properly or primitively considered, is a feature of this or that souly state. Grice sets out in stages the application of aspects of the genitorial programme. We then start with a zero-order, with a P equipped to satisfy unnested, or logically amorphous, judging and willing, i.e. whose contents do not involve judging or willing. We soon reach our first P, G₁. It would be advantageous to a P₀ if it could have this or that judging and this or that willing, which relate to its own judging or willing. Such G₁ could be equipped to control or regulate its own judgings and willings. It will presumably be already constituted so as to conform to the law that, cæteris paribus, if it wills that p and judge that ~p, if it can, it makes it the case that p in its soul To give it some control over its judgings and willings, we need only extend the application of this law to the Ps judging and willing. We equip the P so that, cæteris paribus, if it wills that it is not the case that it wills that p and it judges that they do will that p, if it can, it makes it the case that it does not will that p. And we somehow ensure that sometimes it can do this. It may be that the installation of this kind of control would go hand in had with the installation of the capacity for evaluation. Now, unlike it is the case with a G1, a G2s intentional effort depends on the motivational strength of its considered desire at the time of action. There is a process by which this or that conflicting considered desire motivates action as a broadly causal process, a process that reveals motivational strength. But a G2 might itself try to weigh considerations provided by such a conflicting desire B1 and B2 in deliberation about this or that pro and this or that con of various alternatives. In the simplest case, such weighing treats each of the things desired as a prima facie justifying end. In the face of conflict, it weighs this and that desired end, where the weights correspond to the motivational strength of the associated considered desire. The outcome of such deliberation, Aristotle’s prohairesis, matches the outcome of the causal motivational process envisioned in the description of G₂. But, since the weights it invokes in such deliberation correspond to the motivational strength of this or that relevant considered desire (though perhaps not to the motivational strength of this or that relevant considered desire), the resultant activitiy matches those of a corresponding G₂ (each of whose desires, we are assuming, are considered). To be more realistic, we might limit ourselves to saying that a P₂ has the capacity to make the transition from this or that unconsidered desire to this or that considered desire, but does not always do this. But it will keep the discussion more manageable to simplify and to suppose that each desire is considered. We shall not want this G2 to depend, in each will and act in ways that reveal the motivational strength of this or that considered desire at the time of action, but for a G₃ it will also be the case that in this or that, though not each) case, it acts on the basis of how it weights this or that end favoured by this or that conflicting considered desire. This or that considered desire will concern matters that cannot be achieved simply by action at a single time. E. g. G3 may want to nurture a vegetable garden, or build a house. Such matters will require organized and coordinated action that extends over time. What the G3 does now will depend not only on what it now desires but also on what it now expects it will do later given what it does now. It needs a way of settling now what it will do later given what it does now. The point is even clearer when we remind ourselves that G3 is not alone. It is, we may assume, one of some number of G3; and in many cases it needs to coordinate what it does with what other G3 do so as to achieve ends desired by all participants, itself included. These costs are magnified for G4 whose various plans are interwoven so that a change in one element can have significant ripple effects that will need to be considered. Let us suppose that the general strategies G4 has for responding to new information about its circumstances are sensitive to these kinds of costs. Promoting in the long run the satisfaction of its considered desires and preferences. G₄ is a somewhat sophisticated planning agent but it has a problem. It can expect that its desires and preferences may well change over time and undermine its efforts at organizing and coordinating its activities over time. Perhaps in many cases this is due to the kind of temporal discounting. So for example G4 may have a plan to exercise every day but may tend to prefer a sequence of not exercising on the present day but exercising all days in the future, to a uniform sequence the present day included. At the end of the day it returns to its earlier considered preference in favour of exercising on each and every day. Though G₄, unlike G3, has the capacity to settle on prior plans or plaices concerning exercise, this capacity does not yet help in such a case. A creature whose plans were stable in ways in part shaped by such a no-regret principle would be more likely than G4 to resist temporary temptations. So let us build such a principle into the stability of the plans of a G5, whose plans and policies are not derived solely from facts about its limits of time, attention, and the like. It is also grounded in the central concerns of a planning agent with its own future, concerns that lend special significance to anticipated future regret. So let us add to G5 the capacity and disposition to arrive at such hierarchies of higher-order desires concerning its will. This gives us creature G6. There is a problem with G6, one that has been much discussed. It is not clear why a higher-order desire  ‒ even a higher-order desire that a certain desire be ones will  ‒ is not simply one more desire in the pool of desires (Berkeley Gods will problem). Why does it have the authority to constitute or ensure the agents (i. e. the creatures) endorsement or rejection of a first-order desire? Applied to G6 this is the question of whether, by virtue solely of its hierarchies of desires, it really does succeed in taking its own stand of endorsement or rejection of various first-order desires. Since it was the ability to take its own stand that we are trying to provide in the move to P₆, we need some response to this challenge. The basic point is that G₆ is not merely a time-slice agent. It is, rather, and understands itself to be, a temporally persisting planning agent, one who begins, and continues, and completes temporally extended projects. On a broadly Lockean view, its persistence over time consists in relevant psychological continuities (e.g., the persistence of attitudes of belief and intention) and connections (e.g., memory of a past event, or the later intentional execution of an intention formed earlier). Certain attitudes have as a primary role the constitution and support of such Lockean continuities and connections. In particular, policies that favour or reject various desires have it as their role to constitute and support various continuities both of ordinary desires and of the politicos themselves. For this reason such policies are not merely additional wiggles in the psychic stew. Instead, these policies have a claim to help determine where the agent ‒ i.e., the temporally persisting agent ‒ stands with respect to its desires, or so it seems to me reasonable to say. The psychology of G7 continues to have the hierarchical structure of pro-attitudes introduced with G6. The difference is that the higher-order pro-attitudes of G6 were simply characterized as desires in a broad, generic sense, and no appeal was made to the distinctive species of pro-attitude constituted by plan-like attitudes. That is the sense in which the psychology of G7 is an extension of the psychology of G6. Let us then give G7 such higher-order policies with the capacity to take a stand with respect to its desires by arriving at relevant higher-order policies concerning the functioning of those desires over time. G₇ exhibits a merger of hierarchical and planning structures. Appealing to planning theory and ground in connection to the temporally extended structure of agency to be ones will. G7 has higher-order policies that favour or challenge motivational roles of its considered desires. When G7 engages in deliberative weighing of conflicting, desired ends it seems that the assigned weights should reflect the policies that determine where it stands with respect to relevant desires. But the policies we have so far appealed to ‒ policies concerning what desires are to be ones will ‒ do not quite address this concern. The problem is that one can in certain cases have policies concerning which desires are to motivate and yet these not be policies that accord what those desires are for a corresponding justifying role in deliberation. G8. A solution is to give our creature, G_8, the capacity to arrive at policies that express its commitment to be motivated by a desire by way of its treatment of that desire as providing, in deliberation, a justifying end for action. G₈ has policies for treating (or not treating) certain desires as providing justifying ends, as, in this way, reason-providing, in motivationally effective deliberation. Let us call such policies self-governing policies. We will suppose that these policies are mutually compatible and do not challenge each other. In this way G8 involves an extension of structures already present in G7. The grounds on which G8 arrives at (and on occasion revises) such self-governing policies will be many and varied. We can see these policies as crystallizing complex pressures and concerns, some of which are grounded in other policies or desires. These self-governing policies may be tentative and will normally not be immune to change. If we ask what G8 values in this case, the answer seems to be: what it values is constituted in part by its higher-order self-governing policies. In particular, it values exercise over nonexercise even right now, and even given that it has a considered, though temporary, preference to the contrary. Unlike lower Ps, what P₈ now values is not simply a matter of its present, considered desires and preferences. Now this model of P8 seems in relevant aspects to be a partial) model of us, in our better moments, of course. So we arrive at the conjecture that one important kind of valuing of which we are capable involves, in the cited ways, both our first-order desires and our higher order self-governing policies. In an important sub-class of cases our valuing involves reflexive polices that are both first-order policies of action and higher-order policies to treat the first-order policy as reason providing in motivationally effective deliberation. This may seem odd. Valuing seems normally to be a first-order attitude. One values honesty, say. The proposal is that an important kind of valuing involves higher-order policies. Does this mean that, strictly speaking, what one values (in this sense) is itself a desire ‒ not honesty, say, but a desire for honesty? No, it does not. What I value in the present case is honesty; but, on the theory, my valuing honesty in art consists in certain higher-order self-governing policies. An agents reflective valuing involves a kind of higher-order willing. Freud challenged the power structure of the soul in Plato: it is the libido that takes control, not the logos. Grice takes up this polemic. Aristotle takes up Platos challenge, each type of soul is united to the next by the idea of life. The animal soul, between the vegetative and the rational, is not detachable. Soul. In the New World, Grice had to engage in the great figures: Kantotle. At Oxford, there was no such need, and he could play wtih Duncan-Joness fugitive propositions. PGRICE cites Kants ethics, and it is under this that most of Grices material on Kant should be placed ‒ with a caveat to the occasional reference to Kants epistemology, elsewhere. Aristotle’s ethics, Aristotles Nicomachean Ethics and Aristotles Ethics.  From Hardie. Freedom in Kants Grundlegung, freedom and morality in Kants Grundlegung, Freedom and Morality in Kants Foundations, Why was Grice attracted to Kants theory? First, the logical analysis of the imperatives. Second, as he explored the Grundlegung, the metaphysical foundation of freedom, and finality. While teleology is usually NOT associated with Kant, Grice did! Grice would refer to this, as Kantians do, as the Grundlegung. Grice was never happy with eleutheria, qua Greek philosophical notion. To literal to be true? By Foundations, Grice obviously means Kants essay.Grice preferred to quote Kant in English. The reason being that Grice was practising ordinary-language philosophy; and you cannot expect much linguistic botany in a language other than your own! Kant was not too ordinary in his use of German, either! The English translations that Grice used captured, in a way, all that Grice thought was worth capturing in Kants philosophy. Kant was not your standard philosopher in the programme Grice was familiar with: Lit. Hum. Oxon. However, Kant was popular in The New World, where Grice lectured profusely, Kant’s ethics, Kants Ethical Theory. An exploration of the categorial imperative and its reduction to the hypothetical or suppositional one; Kant’s ethics, philosophy, Kant, Notably the categorical imperative. Cf.  Kants Ethics. The crucial belief about a thing in itself that Kant thinks only practical reason can justify concerns freedom. Freedom is crucial because, on Kants view, any moral appraisal presupposes that a human is free in that he has the ability to do otherwise.  To see why, consider Kants example of a man who commits a theft. Kant holds that for this mans action to be morally wrong and condemnable) it must have been within his voluntary control (he is deemed responsible) in a way that it was within his power at the time not to have committed the theft.  If it is not within his control at the time, while it may be useful to punish him in order to shape his behaviour or to influence others, it nevertheless would be incorrect to say that his action is morally wrong.  Moral rightness and wrongness apply only to a free agent who controls his action and has it in his power, at the time of his action, either to act rightly or not.  According to Kant and Grice, this is just common sense. On these grounds, Kant rejects a type of compatibilism, which he calls the comparative concept of freedom and associates with Leibniz. Kant has a specific type of compatibilism in mind. There may be types of compatibilism that do not fit Kants characterization of that view. On the compatibilist view, as Kant understands it, an agent is free whenever the cause of his action is within him. So an agent is not free only when something external to him pushes or moves him, but he is free whenever the proximate cause of his bodys movement is internal to him as an acting being. If we distinguish between an involuntary convulsion and a voluntary bodily movement, a free action is just a voluntary bodily movement. Kant and Grice ridicule this view as a wretched subterfuge that tries to solve an ancient philosophical problem with a little quibbling about words. This view, Kant and Grice say, assimilates freedom to the freedom of a turnspit, or a projectile in flight, or the motion of a clocks hands. Grices favourite phrase was the otiose English free fall. And he knew all the Grecian he needed to recognise the figurative concept of eleutheria as applied to ill as very figurative, almost implicatural. The proximate cause of this movement is internal to the turnspit, the projectile, and the clock at the time of the movement.  This cannot be sufficient for moral, rational responsibility. Why not? The reason, Kant and Grice say, is ultimately that the cause of this movement occurs in time. Return to the theft example. A compatibilist would say that the thiefs action is free because its proximate cause is inside him, and because the theft is not an involuntary convulsion but a voluntary action. The thief decides to commit the theft, and his action flows from this decision. According to Kant, however, if the thiefs decision is a natural, and thus predictable, phenomenon that occurs in time, it must be the effect of some cause that occurred in a previous time. This is an essential part of Kants (if not Grice’s ‒ Grice quotes Eddington) Newtonian worldview and is grounded in the a priori laws (specifically, the category of cause and effect) in accordance with which our understanding constructs experience. Every event has a cause that begins in an earlier time. If that cause too is an event occurring in time, it must also have a cause beginning in a still earlier time, etc.  Every natural event occurs in time and is thoroughly determined by a causal chain that stretches backwards into the distant past.  So there is no room for freedom in nature, which is deterministic in a strong way. The root of the problem, for Kant, if not Grice, is time. For Grice its space and time! Again, if the thiefs choice to commit the theft is a natural event in time, it is the effect of a causal chain extending into the distant past. But the past is out of his control now, in the present. Once the past is past, he cannot change it. On Kants view, that is why his action would not be in his control in the present if it is determined by events in the past.  Even if he could control those past events in the past, he cannot control them now. But in fact past events were not in his control in the past either if they too were determined by events in the more distant past, because eventually the causal antecedents of his action stretch back before his birth, and obviously events that occurred before his birth are not in his control.  So if the thiefs choice to commit the theft is a natural event in time, it is not now and never was in his control, and he could not have done otherwise than to commit the theft. In that case, it would be a mistake to hold him morally responsible for it. Compatibilism, as Kant and Grice understand it, therefore locates the issue in the wrong place. Even if the cause of the action is internal to the agent, if it is in the past – e. g., if the action today is determined by a decision the agent made yesterday, or from the character I developed in childhood, it is not within the agents control now. The real issue is not whether the cause of the action is internal or external to the agent, but whether it is in the agents control now. For Kant, however, the cause of action can be within the agents control now only if it is not in time.  This is why Kant and Grice think that transcendental idealism is the only way to make sense of the kind of freedom that morality requires. For transcendental idealism allows that the cause of an action may be a thing in itself outside of time: Namesly, the agetns noumenal self, which is free because it is not part of nature. No matter what kind of character the agent have developed or what external influences act on him, on Kants view every intentional, voluntary action is an immediate effect of the agent’s noumenal self, which is causally undetermined. The agent’s noumenal self is an uncaused cause outside of time, which therefore is not Subjects to the deterministic laws of nature in accordance with which understanding and pure reason constructs experience. Many puzzles arise on this picture that Kant does not resolve, and Grice tries. E.g. if understanding constructs every appearance in the experience of nature, not only an appearance of an action, why is the agent responsible only for his action but not for everything that happens in the natural world?  Moreover, if I am not alone in the world but there is another noumenal self acting freely and incorporating his free action into the experience he constructs, how do two transcendentally free agents interact?  How do you integrate ones free action into the experience that the others understanding constructs? In spite of these unsolved puzzles, Kant holds that we can make sense of moral appraisal and responsibility only by thinking about human freedom in this way, because it is the only way to prevent natural necessity from undermining both. Since Kant invokes transcendental idealism to make sense of freedom, interpreting his thinking about freedom leads one back to disputes between the two-objects and two-aspects interpretations of transcendental idealism.  On the face of it, the two-objects interpretation seems to make better sense of Kants view of transcendental freedom than the two-aspect interpretation. If morality requires that the agent be transcendentally free, it seems that his true self, and not just an aspect of his self, must be outside of time, according to Kant’ argument.  But applying the two-objects interpretation to freedom raises problems of its own, since it involves making a distinction between the noumenal self and the phenomenal self that does not arise on the two-aspects view. If only one noumenal self is free, and freedom is required for moral responsibility, ones phenomenal self is not morally responsible. But how are the noumenal self and the phenomenal self related, and why is punishment inflicted on the phenomenal self? It is unclear whether and to what extent appealing to Kants theory of freedom can help to settle disputes about the proper interpretation of transcendental idealism, since there are serious questions about the coherence of Kants theory on either interpretation! Which is good, Grice would end his lecture with! Refs.: The obvious source is his “Method,” repr. in “Conception,” but the keyword: “philosophical psychology” is useful in the Grice papers. There is a specific essay on the power structure of the soul, The H. P. Grice Collection, BANC.

subjectivism: Grice was concerned with intending folloed by a that-clause. Jeffrey defines desirability as doxastically modified. It is entirely possible for someone to desire the love that he already has. It is what he thinks that matters. Cf. his dispositional account to intending. A Subjectsive condition takes into account the intenders, rather than the ascribers, point of view: Marmaduke Bloggs intends to climb Mt. Everest on hands and knees. Bloggs might reason: Given my present state, I should do what is fun. Given my present state, the best thing for me to do would be to do what is fun. For me in my present state it would make for my well-being, to have fun. Having fun is good, or, a good. Climbing a mountain would be fun. Climbing the Everest would be/make for climbing fun. So, I shall climb the Everest. Even if a critic insisted that a practical syllogism is the way to represent Bloggs finding something to be appealing, and that it should be regarded as a respectable evaluation, the assembled propositions dont do the work of a standard argument. The premises do not support or yield the conclusion as in a standard argument. The premises may be said to yield the conclusion, or directive, for the particular agent whose reasoning process it is, only on the basis of a Subjectsive condition: that the agent is in a certain Subjectsive state, e.g. feels like going out for dinner-fun. Rational beings (the agent at some other time, or other individuals) who do not have that feeling, will not accept the conclusion. They may well accept as true. It is fun to climb Everest, but will not accept it as a directive unless they feel like it now. Someone wondering what to do for the summer might think that if he were to climb Everest he would find it fun or pleasant, but right now she does not feel like it. That is in general the end of the matter. The alleged argument lacks normativity. It is not authoritative or directive unless there is a supportive argument that he needs/ought to do something diverting/pleasant in the summer. A practical argument is different. Even if an agent did not feel like going to the doctor, an agent would think I ought to have a medical check up yearly, now is the time, so I should see my doctor to be a directive with some force. It articulates a practical argument. Perhaps the strongest attempt to reconstruct an (acceptable or rational) thought transition as a standard arguments is to treat the Subjectsive condition, I feel like having climbing fun in the summer, as a premise, for then the premises would support the conclusion. But the individual, whose thought transition we are examining, does not regard a description of his psychological state as a consideration that supports the conclusion. It will be useful to look more closely at a variant of the example to note when it is appropriate to reconstruct thinking in the form of argument. Bloggs, now hiking with a friend in the Everest, comes to a difficult spot and says: I dont like the look of that, I am frightened. I am going back. That is usually enough for Bloggs to return, and for the friend to turn back with him. Bloggss action of turning back, admittedly motivated by fear, is, while not acting on reasons, nonetheless rational unless we judge his fear to be irrational. Bloggss Subjectsive condition can serve as a premise, but only in a very different situation. Bloggs resorts to reasons. Suppose that, while his friend does not think Bloggss fear irrational, the friend still attempts to dissuade Bloggs from going back. After listening and reflecting, Bloggs may say I am so frightened it is not worth it. I am not enjoying this climbing anymore. Or I am too frightened to be able to safely go on. Or I often climb the Everest and dont usually get frightened. The fact that I am now is a good indication that this is a dangerous trail and I should turn back. These are reasons, considerations implicitly backed by principles, and they could be the initial motivations of someone. But in Bloggss case they emerged when he was challenged by his friend. They do not express his initial practical reasoning. Bloggs was frightened by the trail ahead, wanted to go back, and didnt have any reason not to. Note that there is no general rational requirement to always act on reasons, and no general truth that a rational individual would be better off the more often he acted on reasons. Faced with his friends objections, however, Bloggs needed justification for acting on his fear. He reflected and found reason(s) to act on his fear. Grice plays with Subjectsivity already in Prolegomena. Consider the use of carefully. Surely we must include the agents own idea of this. Or consider the use of phi and phi – surely we dont want the addressee to regard himself under the same guise with which the utterer regards him. Or consider “Aspects”: Nixon must be appointed professor of theology at Oxford. Does he feel the need? Grice raises the topic of Subjectsivity again in the Kant lectures just after his discussion of mode, in a sub-section entitled, Modalities: relative and absolute. He finds the topic central for his æqui-vocality thesis: Subjectsive conditions seem necessary to both practical and alethic considerations. Refs.: The source is his essay on intentions and the subjective condition, The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

syntactics: Grice loved two devices of the syntactic kind: subscripts and square brackets (for the assignment of common-ground status).  Grice is a conservative (dissenting rationalist) when it comes to syntax and semantics. He hardly uses pragmatics albeit in a loose way (pragmatic import, pragmatic inference), but was aware of Morriss triangle. Syntax is presented along the lines of Gentzen, i.e. a system of natural deduction in terms of inference rules of introduction and elimination for each formal device. Semantics pertains rather to Witterss truth-values, i.e. the assignment of a satisfactory-valuation: the true and the good. Refs.: The most direct source is “Vacuous names,” but the keyword ‘syntax’ is helpful. The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

tautological: Grice would often use ‘tautological,’ and ‘self-contradiction’ presupposes ‘analyticity,’ or rather the analytic-synthetic distinction. Is it contradictory, or a self-contradiction, to say that one’s neighbour’s three-year-old child is an adult? Is there an implicatum for ‘War is not war’? Grice refers to Bayes in WOW re Grices paradox, and to crazy Bayesy, as Peter Achinstein does (Newton was crazy, but not Bayesy).  We can now, in principle, characterize the desirability of the action a 1 , relative to each end (E1 and E2), and to each combination of ends (here just E1 and E2), as a function of the desirability of the end and the probability that the action a 1 will realize that end, or combination of ends. If we envisage a range of possible actions, which includes a 1 together with other actions, we can imagine that each such action has a certain degree of desirability relative to each end (E1 and (or) E2) and to their combination. If we suppose that, for each possible action, these desirabilities can be compounded (perhaps added), then we can suppose that one particular possible action scored higher (in actiondesirability relative to these ends) than any alternative possible action; and that this is the action which wins out; that is, is the action which is, or at least should, end p.105 be performed. (The computation would in fact be more complex than I have described, once account is taken of the fact that the ends involved are often not definite (determinate) states of affairs  (like becoming President), but are variable in respect of the degree to which they might be realized (if ones end is to make a profit from a deal, that profit might be of a varying magnitude); so one would have to consider not merely the likelihood of a particular actions realizing the end of making a profit, but also the likelihood of its realizing that end to this or that degree; and this would considerably complicate the computational problem.) No doubt most readers are far too sensible ever to have entertained any picture even remotely resembling the "Crazy-Bayesy" one I have just described. Grice was fascinated by the fact that paradox translates the Grecian neuter paradoxon. Some of the paradoxes of entailment, entailment and paradoxes. This is not the first time Grice uses paradox. As a classicist, he was aware of the nuances between paradox (or paradoxon, as he preferred, via Latin paradoxum, and aporia, for example. He was interested in Strawsons treatment of this or that paradox of entailment. He even called his own paradox involving if and probablility Grices paradox. In Grices paradox, Grice invites us to supposes that two chess players, Yog and Zog, play 100 games under the following conditions. (1) Yog is white nine of ten times. (2) There are no draws.  And the results are:  (1) Yog, when white, won 80 of 90 games. (2) Yog, when black, won zero of ten games.  This implies that:  (i) 8/9 times, if Yog was white, Yog won. (ii) 1/2 of the time, if Yog lost, Yog was black. (iii) 9/10 that either Yog wasnt white or he won.  From these statements, it might appear one could make these deductions by contraposition and conditional disjunction:  ([a] from [ii]) If Yog was white, then 1/2 of the time Yog won. ([b] from [iii]) 9/10 times, if Yog was white, then he won.  But both (a) and (b) are untrue—they contradict (i). In fact, (ii) and (iii) dont provide enough information to use Bayesian reasoning to reach those conclusions. That might be clearer if (i)-(iii) had instead been stated like so:  (i) When Yog was white, Yog won 8/9 times. (No information is given about when Yog was black.) (ii) When Yog lost, Yog was black 1/2 the time. No information is given about when Yog won. (iii) 9/10 times, either Yog was black and won, Yog was black and lost, or Yog was white and won. (No information is provided on how the 9/10 is divided among those three situations. Grices paradox shows that the exact meaning of statements involving conditionals and probabilities is more complicated than may be obvious on casual examination. Another paradox that Grice examines at length is Moores paradox. For Grice, unlike Nowell-Smith, an utterer who, by uttering The cat is on the mat explicitly conveys that the cat is on the mat does not thereby implicitly convey that he believes that the cat is on the mat. He, more crucially expresses that he believes that the cat is on the mat ‒ and this is not cancellable. He occasionally refers to Moores paradox in the buletic mode, Close the door even if thats not my desire. An imperative still expresses someones desire. The sergeant who orders his soldiers to muster at dawn because he is following the lieutenants order. Grices first encounter with paradox remains his studying Malcolms misleading exegesis of Moore. Refs.: The main sources given under ‘heterologicality,’ above. ‘Paradox’ is a good keyword in The H. P. Grice Papers, since he used ‘paradox’ to describe his puzzle about ‘if,’ but also Malcolm on Moore on the philosopher’s paradox, and paradoxes of material implication and paradoxes of entailment, BANC.

telementationalism: this is a special note, or rather, a very moving proem, on Grices occasion of delivering his lectures on ‘Aspects of reason and reasoning’ at Oxford as the Locke Lectures at Merton. Particularly apt in mentioning, with humility, his having failed, *thrice* [sic] to obtain the Locke lectureship, Strawson did, at once, but feeling safe under the ægis of that great English philosopher (viz. Locke! always implicated, never explicited) now. Grice starts the proem in a very moving, shall we say, emotional, way: I find it difficult to convey to you just how happy I am, and how honoured I feel, in being invited to give these lectures. Difficult, but not impossible. I think of this university and this city, it has a cathedral, which were my home for thirty-six years, as my spiritual and intellectual parents. The almost majestic plural is Grices implicature to the town and gown! Whatever I am was originally fashioned here; I never left Oxford, Oxford made me, and I find it a moving experience to be, within these splendid and none too ancient walls, once more engaged in my old occupation of rendering what is clear obscure, by flouting the desideratum of conversational clarity and the conversational maxim, avoid obscurity of expression, under be perspicuous [sic]!. Grices implicature on none too ancient seems to be addressed to the truly ancient walls that saw Athenian dialectic! On the other hand, Grices funny variant on the obscurum per obscurius ‒ what Baker found as Grices skill in rendering an orthodoxy into a heterodoxy! Almost! By clear Grice implicates Lewis and his clarity is not enough! I am, at the same time, proud of my mid-Atlantic [two-world] status, and am, therefore, delighted that the Old World should have called me in, or rather recalled me, to redress, for once, the balance of my having left her for the New. His implicature seems to be: Strictly, I never left? Grice concludes his proem: I am, finally, greatly heartened by my consciousness of the fact that that great English philosopher, under whose ægis I am now speaking, has in the late afternoon of my days extended to me his Lectureship as a gracious consolation for a record threefold denied to me, in my early morning, of his Prize. I pray that my present offerings may find greater favour in his sight than did those of long ago. They did! Even if Locke surely might have found favour to Grices former offerings, too, Im sure. Refs.: The allusions to Locke are in “Aspects.” Good references under ‘ideationalism,’ above, especially in connection with Myro’s ‘modest mentalism,’ The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

teleology: how does soul originate from matter? Does the vegetal soul have a telos. Purposive-behaviour is obvious in plants (phototropism). If it is present in the vegetal soul, it is present in the animal soul. If it is present in the animal soul, it is present in the rational soul. With each stage, alla Hartmann, there are distinctions in the specification of the telos. Grice could be more continental than Scheler! Grices métier. Unity of science was a very New-World expression that Grice did not quite buy. Grice was brought up in a world, the Old World, indeed, as he calls it in his Proem to the Locke lectures, of Snows two cultures. At the time of Grices philosophising, philosophers such as Winch (who indeed quotes fro Grice) were contesting the idea that science is unitary, when it comes to the explanation of rational behaviour. Since a philosophical approach to the explanation of rational behaviour, including conversational behaviour (to account for the conversational implicata) is his priority, Grice needs to distinguish himself from those who propose a unified science, which Grice regards as eliminationist and reductionist. Grice is ambivalent about science and also playful (philosophia regina scientiarum). Grice seems to presuppose, or implicate, that, since there is the devil of scientism, science cannot get at teleology. The devil is in the physiological details, which are irrelevant. The language Grice uses to describe his Ps as goal-oriented, aimed at survival and reproduction, seems teleological and somewhat scientific, though. But he means that ironically! As the scholastics use it, teleology is a science, the science of telos, or finality (cf. Aristotle on telos aitia, causa finalis. The unity of science is threatened by teleology, and vice versa. Unified science seeks for a mechanistically derivable teleology. But Grices sympathies lie for detached finality. Grice is obsessed with the Greek idea of a telos, as slightly overused by Aristotle. Grice thinks that some actions are for their own sake. What is the telos of Oscar Wilde? Can we speak of Oscar Wilde’s métier? If a tiger is to tigerise, a human is to humanise, and a person is to personise. Grice thought that teleology is a key philosophical way to contest mechanism, so popular in The New World. Strictly, and Grice knew this, teleology is constituted as a discipline. One term that Cicero was unable to translate! For the philosopher, teleology is that part of philosophy that studies the realm of the telos. Informally, teleological is opposed to mechanistic. Grice is interested in the mechanism/teleology debate, indeed jumps into it, with a goal in mind! Grice finds some New-World philosophers too mechanistic-oriented, in contrast with the more two-culture atmosphere he was familiar with at Oxford! Code is the Aristotelian, and he and Grice are especially concerned in the idea of causa finalis. For Grice only detached finality poses a threat to Mechanism, as it should! Axiological objectivity is possible only given finality or purpose in Nature, the admissibility of a final cause. Refs.: There are specific essays on ‘teleology,’ ‘final cause,’ and ‘finality,’ the The Grice Papers. Some of the material published in “Reply to Richards” (repr. in “Conception”) and “Actions and events,” The H. P. Grice Papers, BANC.

that-clause: Grice thought of Staal as particularly good at this type of formalistic philosophy, which was still adequate to reflect the subtleties of ordinary language.  How do we define a Griceian action? How do we define a Griceian event? This is Grices examination and criticism of Davidson, as a scientific realist, followed by a Kantian approach to freedom and causation. Grice is especially interested in the logical form, or explicitum, so that he can play with the implicatum. One of his favourite examples: He fell on his sword, having tripped as he crossed the Galliæ. Grice manages to quote from many and varied authors (some of which you would not expect him to quote) such as Reichenbach, but also Robinson, of Oriel, of You Names it fame (for any x, if you can Names it, x exists). Robinson has a brilliant essay on parts of Cook Wilsons Statement and inference, so he certainly knows what he is talking about. Grice also quotes from von Wright and Eddington. Grice offers a linguistic botanic survey of autonomy and free (sugar-free, free fall, implicature-free) which some have found inspirational. His favourite is Finnegans alcohol-free. Finnegans obvious implicature is that everything is alcohol-laden. Grice kept a copy of Davidsons The logical form of action sentences, since surely Davidson, Grice thought, is making a primary philosophical point. Horses run fast; therefore, horses run. A Davidsonian problem, and there are more to come! Smith went fishing. Grices category shift allows us to take Smiths fishing as the grammatical Subjects of an action sentence. Cf. indeed the way to cope with entailment in The horse runs fast; therefore, the horse runs. Grices Actions and events is Davidsonian in motivation, but Kantian in method, one of those actions by Grice to promote a Griceian event! Davidson had published, Grice thought, some pretty influential (and provocative, anti-Quineian) stuff on actions and events, or events and actions, actually, and, worse, he was being discussed at Oxford, too, over which Grice always keeps an eye! Davidsons point, tersely put, is that while p.q (e.g. It is raining, and it is pouring) denotes a concatenation of events. Smith is fishing denotes an action, which is a kind of event, if you are following him (Davidson, not Smith). However, Davidson is fighting against the intuition, if you are a follower of Whitehead and Russell, to symbolise the Smith is fishing as Fs, where s stands for Smith and F for fishing. The logical form of a report of an event or an action seems to be slightly more complicated. Davidsons point specifically involves adverbs, or adverbial modifiers, and how to play with them in terms of entailment. The horse runs fast; therefore, the horse runs. Symbolise that! as Davidson told Benson Mates! But Mates had gone to the restroom. Grice explores all these and other topics and submits the thing for publication. Grice quotes, as isnt his wont, from many and various philosophers, not just Davidson, whom he saw every Wednesday, but others he didnt, like Reichenbach, Robinson, Kant, and, again even a physicist like Eddington. Grice remarks that Davidson is into hypothesis, suppositio, while he is, as he should, into hypostasis, substantia. Grice then expands on the apparent otiosity of uttering, It is a fact that grass is green. Grice goes on to summarise what he ironically dubs an ingenious argument. Let σ abbreviate the operator  consists in the fact that , which, when prefixed to a sentence, produces a predicate or epithet. Let S abbreviate Snow is white, and let G abbreviate Grass is green. In that case, xσS is 1 just in case xσ(y(y=y and S) = y(y=y) is 1, since the first part of the sub-sentence which follows σ in the main sentence is logically equivalent logically equivalent to the second part. And xσ(y(y=y and S) = y(y=y) is 1 just in case xσ(y(if y=y, G) = y(y=y) is 1, since y(if y=y, S) and y(if y=y, G) are each a singular term, which, if S and G are both true, each refers to y(y=y), and are therefore co-referential and inter-substitutable. And xσ(y(if y=y, G) = y(y=y) is true just in case xσG is 1, since G is logically equivalent to the sub-sentence which follows σ. So, this fallacy goes, provided that S and G are both 1, regardless of what an utterer explicitly conveys by uttering a token of it, any event which consists of the otiose fact that S also consists of the otiose fact that G, and vice versa, i. e. this randomly chosen event is identical to any other randomly chosen event. Grice hastens to criticise this slingshot fallacy licensing the inter-substitution of this or that co-referential singular term and this or that logically equivalent sub-sentence as officially demanded because it is needed to license a patently valid, if baffling, inference. But, if in addition to providing this benefit, the fallacy saddles the philosopher with a commitment to a hideous consequence, the rational course is to endeavour to find a way of retaining the benefit while eliminating the disastrous accompaniment, much as in set theory it seems rational to seek as generous a comprehension axiom as the need to escape this or that paradox permits. Grice proposes to retain the principle of co-reference, but prohibit is use after the principle of logical equivalence has been used. Grice finds such a measure to have some intuitive appeal. In the fallacy, the initial deployment of the principle of logical equivalence seems tailored to the production of a sentence which provides opportunity for trouble-raising application of the principle of co-referentiality. And if that is what the game is, why not stop it? On the assumption that this or that problem which originally prompts this or that analysis is at least on their way towards independent solution, Grice turns his attention to the possibility of providing a constructivist treatment of things which might perhaps have more intuitive appeal than a naïve realist approach. Grice begins with a class of happenstance attributions, which is divided into this or that basic happenstance attribution, i.e. ascriptions to a Subjects-item of an attribute which is metabolically expressible, and this or that non-basic resultant happenstance attribution, in which the attribute ascribed, though not itself metabolically expressible, is such that its possession by a Subjects item is suitably related to the possession by that or by some other Subjects item, of this or that attribute which is metabolically expressible. Any member of the class of happenstance attributions may be used to say what happens, or happens to be the case, without talking about any special entity belonging to a class of a happening or a happenstance. A next stage involves the introduction of the operator  consists of the fact that  This operator, when prefixed to a sentence S that makes a happen-stance attribution to a Subjects-item, yields a predicate which is satisfied by an entity which is a happenstance, provided that sentence S is doxastically satisfactory, i. e., 1, and that some further metaphysical condition obtains, which ensures the metaphysical necessity of the introduction into reality of the category of a happenstance, thereby ensuring that this new category is not just a class of this or that fiction. As far as the slingshot fallacy, and the hideous consequence that all facts become identical to one Great Big Fact, in the light of a defence of Reichenbach against the realist attack, Grice is reasonably confident that a metaphysical extension of reality will not saddle him with an intolerable paradox, pace the caveat that, to some, the slingshot is not contradictory in the way a paradox is, but merely an unexpected consequence ‒ not seriously hideous, at that. What this metaphysical condition would be which would justify the metaphysical extension remains, alas, to be determined. It is tempting to think that the metaphysical condition is connected with a theoretical need to have this or that happenstance as this or that item in, say, a causal relation. Grice goes on to provide a progression of linguistic botanising including free. Grice distinguishes four elements or stages in the step-by-step development of freedom. A first stage is the transeunt causation one finds in inanimate objects, as when we experience a stone in free fall. This is Hume’s realm, the atomistss realm. This is external or transeunt casuation, when an object is affected by processes in other objects. A second stage is internal or immanent causation, where a process in an object is the outcome of previous stages in that process, as in a freely moving body. A third stage is the internal causation of a living being, in which changes are generated in a creature by internal features of the creature which are not earlier stages of the same change, but independent items, the function or finality of which is to provide for the good of the creature in question. A fourth stage is a culminating stage at which the conception of a certain mode by a human of something as being for that creatures good is sufficient to initiate the doing of that thing. Grice expands on this interesting last stage. At this stage, it is the case that the creature is liberated from every factive cause. There is also a discussion of von Wrights table of adverbial modifiers, or Grices pentagram. Also an exploration of specificity: Jack buttering a parsnip in the bathroom in the presence of Jill. Grice revisits some of his earlier concerns, and these are discussed in the appropriate places, such as his exploration on the Grecian etymology of aition. “That”-clause should be preferred to ‘oratio obliqua,’ since the latter is a misnomer when you ascribe a psychological state rather than an utterance. Refs.: The main sources are given under ‘oratio obliqua’ above, The BANC.

theory: Grice needs a theory. Not so much for his approach to mean. He polemises with Rountree, of Somerville, that you dont need a thory to analyse mean. Indeed, you cannot have a theory to analyse mean, because mean is a matter of intuition, not a theoretical concept. But Grice appeals to theory, when dealing with willing. He knows what willing means because he relies on a concept of folk-science. In this folk-science, willing is a theoretical concept. Grice arrived at this conclusion by avoiding the adjective souly, and seeing that there is no word to describe willing other than by saying it is a psychoLOGICAL concept, i.e. part of a law within that theory of folk-science. That law will include, by way of ramsified naming or describing willing as a predicate-constant. Now, this is related to metaphysics. His liberal or ecunmenical metaphysics is best developed in terms of his ontological marxism presented just after he has expanded on this idea of willing as a theoretical concept, within a law involving willing (say, Grices Optimism-cum-Pesimism law), within the folk-science of psychology that explains his behaviour. For Aristotle, a theoria, was quite a different animal, but it had to do with contemplatio, hence the theoretical (vita contemplativa) versus the practical (vita activa). Grices sticking to Aristotle’srare use of theory inspires him to develop his fascinating theory of the theory-theory.  Grice realised that there is no way to refer to things like intending except with psychological, which he takes to mean, belonging to a pscyhological theory. Grice was keen to theorise on theorising. He thought that Aristotle’s first philosophy (prote philosophia) is best rendered as Theory-theory! Grice kept using Oxonian English spelling, theorising, except when he did not! Grice calls himself folksy: his theories, even if Subjects to various types of Ramseyfication, are popular in kind! And ceteris paribus! Metaphysical construction is disciplined and the best theorising the philosopher can hope for! The way Grice conceives of his theory-theory is interesting to revisit. A route by which Grice hopes to show the centrality of metaphysics (as prote philosophia) involves taking seriously a few ideas. If any region of enquiry is to be successful as a rational enterprise, its deliverance must be expressable in the shape of one or another of the possibly different types of theory. A characterisation of the nature and range of a possible kind of theory θ is needed. Such a body of characterisation must itself be the outcome of rational enquiry, and so must itself exemplify whatever requirement it lays down for any theory θ in general. The characterisation must itself be expressible as a theory θ, to be called, if you like, Grice politely puts it, theory-theory, or meta-theory, θ2. Now, the specification and justification of the ideas and material presupposed by any theory θ, whether such account falls within the bounds of Theory-theory, θ2 would be properly called prote philosophia (first philosophy) and may turn out to relate to what is generally accepted as belonging to the Subjects matter of metaphysics. It might, for example, turn out to be establishable that any theory θ has to relate to a certain range of this or that Subjects item, has to attribute to each item this or that predicate or attribute, which in turn has to fall within one or another of the range of types or categories. In this way, the enquiry might lead to recognised metaphysical topics, such as the nature of being, its range of application, the nature of predication and a systematic account of categories. Met. , philosophical eschatology, and Platos Republic, Thrasymachus, social justice, Socrates, along with notes on Zeno, and topics for pursuit, repr.in Part II, Explorations in semantics and  metaphysics to WOW , metaphysics, philosophical eschatology, Platos Republic, Socrates, Thrasymachus, justice, moral right, legal right, Athenian dialectic. Philosophical eschatology is a sub-discipline of metaphysics concerned with what Grice calls a category shift. Grice, having applied such a technique to Aristotle’s aporia on philos (friend) as alter ego, uses it now to tackle Socratess view, against Thrasymachus, that right applies primarily to morality, and secondarily to legality. Grice has a specific reason to include this in his WOW Grices exegesis of Plato on justice displays Grices take on the fact that metaphysics needs to be subdivided into ontology proper and what he calls philosophical eschatology, for the study of things like category shift and other construction routines. The exploration of Platos Politeia thus becomes an application of Grices philosophically eschatological approach to the item just, as used by Socrates (morally just) and Thrasymachus (legally just). Grice has one specific essay on Aristotle in PPQ. So he thought Plato merited his own essay, too! Grices focus is on Plato’s exploration of dike. Grice is concerned with a neo-Socratic (versus neo-Thrasymachean) account of moral justice as conceptually (or axiologically) prior to legal justice. In the proceeding, he creates philosophical eschatology as the other branch to metaphysics, along with good ol ontology. To say that just crosses a categorial barrier (from the moral to the legal) is to make a metaphysical, strictly eschatological, pronouncement. The Grice Papers locate the Plato essay in s.  II, the Socrates essay in s.  III, and the Thrasymachus essay, under social justice, in s. V. Grice is well aware that in his account of fairness, Rawls makes use of his ideas on personal identity. The philosophical elucidation of fairness is of great concern for Grice. He had been in touch with such explorations as Nozicks and Nagels along anti-Rawlsian lines. Grices ideas on rationality guide his exploration of social justice. Grice keeps revising the Socrates notes. The Plato essay he actually dates. As it happens, Grices most extensive published account of Socrates is in this commentary on Platos Republic: an eschatological commentary, as he puts it. In an entertaining fashion, Grice has Socrates, and neo-Socrates, exploring the logic and grammar of just against the attack by Thrasymachus and neo-Thrasymachus. Grices point is that, while the legal just may be conceptually prior to the moral just, the moral just is evaluationally or axiologically prior. Refs.: There is a specific essay on ‘theorising’ in the Grice Papers, but there are scattered sources elsewhere, such as “Method” (repr. in “Conception”), BANC.

uncertainty: in the end, its all about the converational implciata and conversation as rational co-operation. Why does P2 should judge that P1 is being more or less certain about what he is talking? Theres a rationale for that. Our conversation does not consist of idle remarks. Grices example: "The Chairman of the British Academy has a corkscrew in his pocket. Urmsons example: "The king is visiting Oxford tomorrow. Why? Oh, for no reason at all As a philosophical psychologist, and an empiricist with realist tendencies, Grice was obsessed with what he called (in a nod to the Kiparskys) the factivity of know. Surely, Grices preferred collocation, unlike surely Ryles, is "Grice knows that p." Grice has no problem in seeing this as involving three clauses: First, p. Second, Grice believes that p, and third, p causes Grices belief. No mention of certainty. This is the neo-Prichardian in Grice, from having been a neo-Stoutian (Stout was obsessed, as a few Oxonians like Hampshire and Hart were, with certainty). If the three-prong analysis of know applies to the doxastic, Grices two-prong analysis of intending in ‘Intention and UNcertainty,’ again purposively avoiding certainty, covers the buletic realm. This does not mean that Grice, however proud he was of his ignorance of the history of philosophy (He held it as a badge of honour, his tuteee Strawson recalls), had read some of the philosophical classics to realise that certainty had been an obsession of what Ryle abusively (as he himself puts it) called Descartes and the Establishments "official doctrine"! While ps true in Grices analysis of know is harmless enough, there obviously is no correlate for ps truth in the buletic case. Grices example is Grice intending to scratch his head, via his willing that Grice scratches his head in t2. In this case, as he notes, the doxastic eleent involves the uniformity of nature, and ones more or less relying that if Grice had a head to be scratched in t1, he will have a head to be sratched in t2, when his intention actually GETS satisfied, or fulfilled. Grice was never worried about buletic satisfaction. As the intentionalist that Suppes showed us Grice was, Grice is very much happy to say that if Smith intends to give Joness a job, the facct as to whether Jones actually gets the job is totally irrelevant for most philosophical purposes. He gets more serious when he is happier with privileged access than incorrigibility in “Method.” But he is less strict than Austin. For Austin, "Thats a finch implies that the utterer KNOWS its a finch. While Grice has a maxim, do not say that for which you lack adequate evidence (Gettiers analysandum)  and a super-maxim, try to make your contribution one that is true,  the very phrasing highlights Grices cavalier to this! Imagine Kant turning on his grave. "Try!?". Grice is very clever in having try in the super-maxim, and a prohibition as the maxim, involving falsehood avoidance, "Do not say what you believe to be false." Even here he is cavalier. "Cf. "Do not say what you KNOW to be false." If Gettier were wrong, the combo of maxims yields, "Say what you KNOW," say what you are certain about! Enough for Sextus Empiricus having one single maxim: "Either utter a phenomenalist utterance, a question or an order, or keep your mouth shut!." (cf. Grice, "My lips are sealed," as cooperative or helfpul in ways -- "At least he is not lying."). Hampshire, in the course of some recent remarks,l advances the view that self-prediction is (logically) impossible. When I say I know that I shall do X (as against, e.g., X will happen to me, or You will do X), I am not contemplating myself, as I might someone else, and giving tongue to a conjecture about myself and my future acts, as I might be doing about someone else or about the behaviour ofan animal -for that would be tantamount (if I understand him rightly) to looking upon myself from outside, as it were, and treating my own acts as mere caused events. In saying that I know that I shall do X, I am, on this view, saying that I have decided to do X: for to predict that I shall in certain circumstances in fact do X or decide to do X, with no reference to whether or not I have already decided to do it - to say I can tell you now that I shall in fact act in manner X, although I am, as a matter of fact, determined to do the very opposite - does not make sense. Any man who says I know myself too well to believe that, whatever I now decide, I shall do anything other than X when the circumstances actually arise is in fact, if I interpret Hampshires views correctly, saying that he does not really, i.e. seriously, propose to set himself against doing X, that he does not propose even to try to act otherwise, that he has in fact decided to let events take their course. For no man who has truly decided to try to avoid X can, in good faith, predict his own failure to act as he has decided. He may fail to avoid X, and he may predict this; but he cannot both decide to try to avoid X and predict that he will not even try to do this; for he can always try; and he knows this: he knows that this is what distinguishes him from non-human creatures in nature. To say that he will fail even to try is tantamount to saying that he has decided not to try. In this sense I know means I have decided and (Murdoch, Hampshire, Gardiner and Pears, Freedom and Knowledge, in Pears (ed.), Freedom and tAe Will (London,), 80-104) cannot in principle be predictive. That, if I have understood it, is Hampshires position, and I have a good deal of sympathy with it, for I can see that self-prediction is often an evasive way of disclaiming responsibility for difficult decisions, while deciding in fact to let events take their course, disguising this by attributing responsibility for what occurs to my own allegedly unalterable nature. But I agree with Hampshires critics in the debate, whom I take to be maintaining that, although the situation he describes may often occur, yet circumstances may exist in which it is possible for me both to say that I am, at this moment, resolved not to do X, and at the same time to predict that I shall do X, because I am not hopeful that, when the time comes, I shall in fact even so much as try to resist doing X. I can, in effect, say I know myself well. When the crisis comes, do not rely on me to help you. I may well run away; although I am at this moment genuinely resolved not to be cowardly and to do all I can to stay at your side. My prediction that my resolution will not in fact hold up is based on knowledge of my own character, and not on my present state of mind; my prophecy is not a symptom of bad faith (for I am not, at this moment, vacillating) but, on the contrary, of good faith, of a wish to face the facts. I assure you in all sincerity that my present intention is to be brave and resist. Yet you would run a great risk if you relied too much on my present decision; it would not be fair to conceal my past failures of nerve from you. I can say this about others, despite the most sincere resolutions on their part, for I can foretell how in fact they will behave; they can equally predict this about me. Despite Hampshires plausible and tempting argument, I believe that such objective self-knowledge is possible and occur. From Descartes to Stout and back. Stout indeed uses both intention and certainty, and in the same paragraph. Stout notes that, at the outset, performance falls far short of intention. Only a certain s. of contractions of certain muscles, in proper proportions and in a proper order, is capable of realising the end aimed at, with the maximum of rapidity and certainty, and the minimum of obstruction and failure, and corresponding effort. At the outset of the process of acquisition, muscles are contracted which are superfluous, and which therefore operate as disturbing conditions. Grices immediate trigger, however, is Ayer on sure that, and having the right to be sure, as his immediate trigger later will be Hampshire and Hart. Grice had high regard for Hampshires brilliant Thought and action.  He was also concerned with Stouts rather hasty UNphilosophical, but more scientifically psychologically-oriented remarks about assurance in practical concerns. He knew too that he was exploring an item of the philosophers lexicon (certus) that had been brought to the forum when Anscombe and von Wright translate Witters German expression Gewißheit in Über Gewißheit as Certainty. The Grecians were never sure about being sure. But the modernist turn brought by Descartes meant that Grice now had to deal with incorrigibility and privileged access to this or that P, notably himself (When I intend to go, I dont have to observe myself, Im on the stage, not in the audience, or Only I can say I will to London, expressing my intention to do so. If you say, you will go you are expressing yours! Grice found Descartes very funny ‒ in a French way. Grice is interested in contesting Ayer and other Oxford philosophers, on the topic of a criterion for certainty. In so doing, Grice choses Descartess time-honoured criterion of clarity and distinction, as applied to perception.  Grice does NOT quote Descartes in French! In the proceedings, Grice distinguishes between two kinds of certainty apparently ignored by Descartes: (a) objective certainty: Ordinary-language variant: It is certain that p, whatever it refers to, cf. Grice, it is an illusion; what is it? (b) Subjective certainty: Ordinary-language variant: I am certain that p. I being, of course, Grice, in my bestest days, of course! There are further items on Descartes in the Grice Collection, notably in the last s. of topics arranged alphabetically. Grice never cared to publish his views on Descartes until he found an opportunity to do so when compiling his WOW. Grice is not interested in an exegesis of Descartess thought. He doesnt care to give a reference to any edition of Descartess oeuvre. But he plays with certain. It is certain that p is objective certainty, apparently. I am certain that p is Subjectsive certainty, rather. Oddly, Grice will turn to UNcertainty as it connects with intention in his BA lecture. Grices interest in Descartes connects with Descartess search for a criterion of certainty in terms of clarity and distinction of this or that perception.  Having explored the philosophy of perception with Warnock, its only natural he wanted to give Descartess rambles a second and third look! Descartes on clear and distinct perception, in WOW, II semantics and metaphysics, essay, Descartes on clear and distinct perception and Malcom on dreaming, perception, Descartes, clear and distinct perception, Malcolm, dreaming. Descartes meets Malcolm, and vice versa.  Descartes on clear and distinct perception, in WOW, Descartes on clear and distinct perception, Descartes on clear and distinct perception, in WOW, part II, semantics and metaphysics, essay. Grice gives a short overview of Cartesian metaphysics for the BBC 3rd programme. The best example, Grice thinks, of a metaphysical snob is provided by Descartes, about whose idea of certainty Grice had philosophised quite a bit, since it is in total contrast with Moore’s. Descartes is a very scientifically minded philosopher, with very clear ideas about the proper direction for science.  Descartes, whose middle Names seems to have been Euclid, thinks that mathematics, and in particular geometry, provides the model for a scientific procedure, or method. And this determines all of Descartess thinking in two ways. First, Descartes thinks that the fundamental method in science is the axiomatic deductive method of geometry, and this Descartes conceives (as Spinoza morality more geometrico) of as rigorous reasoning from a self-evident axiom (Cogito, ergo sum.). Second, Descartes thinks that the Subjects matter of physical science, from mechanics to medicine, must be fundamentally the same as the Subjects matter of geometry! The only characteristics that the objects studied by geometry poses are spatial characteristics. So from the point of view of science in general, the only important features of things in the physical world were also their spatial characteristics, what he called extensio, res extensa. Physical science in general is a kind of dynamic, or kinetic, geometry.   Here we have an exclusive preference for a certain type of scientific method, and a certain type of scientific explanation: the method is deductive, the type of explanation mechanical. These beliefs about the right way to do science are exactly reflected in Descartess ontology, one of the two branches of metaphysics; the other is philosophical eschatology, or the study of categories), and it is reflected in his doctrine, that is, about what really exists.  Apart from God, the divine substance, Descartes recognises just two kinds of substance, two types of real entity. First, there is material substance, or matter; and the belief that the only scientifically important characteristics of things in the physical world are their spatial characteristics goes over, in the language of metaphysics, into the doctrine that these are their only characteristics. Second, and to Ryle’s horror, Descartes recognizes the mind or soul, or the mental substance, of which the essential characteristic is thinking; and thinking itself, in its pure form at least, is conceived of as simply the intuitive grasping of   this or that self-evident axiom and this or that of its deductive consequence. These restrictive doctrines about reality and knowledge naturally call for adjustments elsewhere in our ordinary scheme of things. With the help of the divine substance, these are duly provided.  It is not always obvious that the metaphysicians scheme involves this kind of ontological preference, or favoritism, or prejudice, or snobbery this tendency, that is, to promote one or two categories of entity to the rank of the real, or of the ultimately real, to the exclusion of others, Descartess entia realissima. One is taught at Oxford that epistemology begins with the Moderns such as Descartes, which is not true. Grice was concerned with “certain,” which was applied in Old Roman times to this or that utterer: the person who is made certain in reference to a thing, certain, sure. Lewis and Short have a few quotes: “certi sumus periisse omnia;” “num quid nunc es certior?,” “posteritatis, i. e. of posthumous fame,” “sententiæ,” “judicii,” “certus de suā geniturā;” “damnationis;” “exitii,” “spei,” “matrimonii,” “certi sumus;” in the phrase “certiorem facere aliquem;” “de aliquā re, alicujus rei, with a foll, acc. and inf., with a rel.-clause or absol.;” “to inform, apprise one of a thing: me certiorem face: “ut nos facias certiores,” “uti Cæsarem de his rebus certiorem faciant;” “qui certiorem me sui consilii fecit;” “Cæsarem certiorem faciunt, sese non facile ab oppidis vim hostium prohibere;” “faciam te certiorem quid egerim;” with subj. only, “milites certiores facit, paulisper intermitterent proelium,” pass., “quod crebro certior per me fias de omnibus rebus,” “Cæsar certior factus est, tres jam copiarum partes Helvetios id flumen transduxisse;” “factus certior, quæ res gererentur,” “non consulibus certioribus factis,” also in posit., though rarely; “fac me certum quid tibi est;” “lacrimæ suorum tam subitæ matrem certam fecere ruinæ,” uncertainty, Grice loved the OED, and its entry for will was his favourite. But he first had a look to shall. For Grice, "I shall climb Mt. Everest," is surely a prediction. The OED has it as shall, and defines as a common Teutonic preterite-present strong verb. In Old English, it is sceal (sculon, sceolde, scolde). Usage I Usage No. 1: to owe (money). 1425 Hoccleve Min. Poems, The leeste ferthyng þat y men shal. To owe (allegiance). 1649 And by that feyth I shal to god and yow; followed by an infinitive, without to; except for a few instances of shall will, shall may (mowe), "shall conne" in the 15th c., the infinitive after shall is always either that of a principal verb or of have or be. 1 The present tense shall. Usage No. 2: in general statements of what is right or becoming, = ought. Superseded by the past subjunctive should. In OE. the subjunctive present sometimes occurs in this use (e.g. c 888 in A. 4). 1460 Fortescue Abs. and Lim. Mon. The king shall often times send his judges to punish rioters and risers. 1562 Legh Armory; Whether are Roundells of all suche coloures, as ye haue spoken of here before? or shall they be Namesd Roundelles of those coloures? Usage No. 3: a In OE. and occas. in Middle English used to express necessity of various kinds. For the many shades of meaning in Old English see Bosworth and Toller), = must, "must needs", "have to", "am compelled to", etc.; in stating a necessary condition: = `will have to, `must (if something else is to happen). 1596 Shaks. Merch. V. i. i. 116 You shall seeke all day ere you finde them, & when you haue them they are not worth the search. 1605 Shaks. Lear. He that parts vs, shall bring a Brand from Heauen. c In hypothetical clause, accompanying the statement of a necessary condition: = `is to. 1612 Bacon Ess., Greatn. Kingd., Neither must they be too much broken of it, if they shall be preserued in vigor; ndicating what is appointed or settled to take place = the mod. `is to, `am to, etc. 1600 Shaks. A.Y.L. What is he that shall buy his flocke and pasture? 1625 in Ellis Orig. Lett. Ser. "Tomorrow His Majesty will be present  to begin the Parliament which is thought shall be removed to Oxford. Usage No. 5: in commands or instructions; n the second person, “shall” is equivalent to an imperative. Chiefly in Biblical language, of divine commandments, rendering the jussive future of the Hebrew and Vulgate. In Old English the imperative mode is used in the ten commandments. 1382 Wyclif Exod. Thow shalt not tak the Names of the Lord thi God in veyn. So Coverdale, etc. b) In expositions: you shall understand, etc. (that). c) In the formula you shall excuse (pardon) me. (now "must"). 1595 Shaks. John. Your Grace shall pardon me, I will not backe. 1630 R. Johnsons Kingd. and Commw. 191 You shall excuse me, for I eat no flesh on Fridayes. b In the *third* person. 1744 in Atkyns Chanc. Cases (1782) III. 166 The words shall and may in general acts of parliament, or in private constitutions, are to be construed imperatively, they must remove them; in the second and third persons, expressing the determination by the Griceian utterer to bring about some action, event, or state of things in the future, or (occasionally) to refrain from hindering what is otherwise certain to take place, or is intended by another person. a In the second person. 1891 J. S. Winter Lumley xi: If you would rather not stay then, you shall go down to South Kensington Square then; in third person. 1591 Shaks. Two Gent. Verona shall not hold thee. 1604 Shaks. Oth. If there be any cunning Crueltie, That can torment him much, It shall be his. 1891 J. S. Winter Lumley xiv, `Oh, yes, sir, she shall come back, said the nurse. `Ill take care of that. `I will come back, said Vere. Usage No. 7: in special interrogative uses, a) in the *first* person, used in questions to which the expected answer is a command, direction, or counsel, or a resolve on the speakers own part. a) in questions introduced by an interrogative pronoun (in oblique case), adverb, or adverbial phrase. 1600 Fairfax Tasso. What shall we doe? shall we be gouernd still, By this false hand? 1865 Kingsley Herew. Where shall we stow the mare? b) in categorical questions, often expressing indignant reprobation of a suggested course of action, the implication (or implicature, or entailment) being that only a negative (or, with negative question an affirmative) answer is conceivable. 1611 Shaks. Wint. T. Shall I draw the Curtaine? 1802 Wordsw. To the Cuckoo i, O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice? 1891 J. S. Winter Lumley `Are you driving, or shall I call you a cab? `Oh, no; Im driving, thanks. c) In *ironical* affirmative in exclamatory sentence, equivalent to the above interrogative use, cf. Ger. soll. 1741 Richardson Pamela, A pretty thing truly! Here I, a poor helpless Girl, raised from Poverty and Distress, shall put on Lady-airs to a Gentlewoman born. d) to stand shall I, shall I (later shill I, shall I: v. shilly-shally), to be at shall I, shall I (not): to be vacillating, to shilly-shally. 1674 R. Godfrey Inj. and Ab. Physic Such Medicines. that will not stand shall I? shall I? but will fall to work on the Disease presently. b Similarly in the *third* person, where the Subjects represents or includes the utterer, or when the utterer is placing himself at anothers point of view. 1610 Shaks. Temp., Hast thou (which art but aire) a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not my selfe, One of their kinde,..be kindlier moud then thou art? c In the *second* and *third* person, where the expected answer is a decision on the part of the utterer or of some person OTHER than the Subjects. The question often serves as an impassioned repudiation of a suggestion (or implicature) that something shall be permitted. 1450 Merlin `What shal be his Names? `I will, quod she, `that it haue Names after my fader. 1600 Shaks. A.Y.L.; What shall he haue that kild the Deare? 1737 Alexander Pope, translating Horaces Epistle, And say, to which shall our applause belong, this new court jargon, or the good old song? 1812 Crabbe Tales, Shall a wife complain? d In indirect question. 1865 Kingsley Herew, Let her say what shall be done with it; as a mere auxiliary, forming, with present infinitive, the future, and (with perfect infinitive) the future perfect tense. In Old English, the notion of the future tense is ordinarily expressed by the present tense. To prevent ambiguity, wile (will) is not unfrequently used as a future auxiliary, sometimes retaining no trace of its initial usage, connected with the faculty of volition, and cognate indeed with volition. On the other hand, sceal (shall), even when rendering a Latin future, can hardly be said to have been ever a mere future tense-sign in Old English. It always expressed something of its original notion of obligation or necessity, so Hampshire is wrong in saying I shall climb Mt. Everest is predictable. In Middle English, the present early ceases to be commonly employed in futural usage, and the future is expressed by shall or will, the former being much more common. The usage as to the choice between the two auxiliaries, shall and will, has varied from time to time. Since the middle of the seventeenth century, with Wallis, mere predictable futurity is expressed in the *first* person by shall, in the second and third by will, and vice versa. In oratio obliqua, usage allows either the retention of the auxiliary actually used by the original utterer, or the substitution of that which is appropriate to the point of view of the uttering reporting; in Old English, ‘sceal,; while retaining its primary usage, serves as a tense-sign in announcing a future event as fated or divinely decreed, cf. Those spots mean measle. Hence shall has always been the auxiliary used, in all persons, for prophetic or oracular announcements of the future, and for solemn assertions of the certainty of a future event. 1577 in Allen Martyrdom Campion; The queene neither ever was, nor is, nor ever shall be the head of the Church of England. 1601 Shaks. Jul. C. Now do I Prophesie. A Curse shall light vpon the limbes of men. b In the first person, "shall" has, from the early ME. period, been the normal auxiliary for expressing mere futurity, without any adventitious notion. (a) Of events conceived as independent of the volition of the utterer. To use will in these cases is now a mark of, not public-school-educated Oxonian, but Scottish, Irish, provincial, or extra-British idiom. 1595 in Cath. Rec. Soc. Publ. V. 357 My frend, yow and I shall play no more at Tables now. 1605 Shaks. Macb. When shall we three meet againe? 1613 Shaks. Hen. VIII, Then wee shall haue em, Talke vs to silence. 1852 Mrs. Stowe Uncle Toms C.; `But what if you dont hit? `I shall hit, said George coolly. (b) Of voluntary action or its intended result. Here I shall or we shall is always admissible except where the notion of a present, as distinguished from a previous, decision or consent is to be expressed, in which case ‘will’ shall be used. Further, I shall often expresses a determination insisted on in spite of opposition. In the 16th c. and earlier, I shall often occurs where I will would now be used. 1559 W. Cunningham Cosmogr. Glasse, This now shall I alway kepe surely in memorye. 1601 Shaks. Alls Well; Informe him so tis our will he should.-I shall my liege. 1885 Ruskin On Old Road, note: Henceforward I shall continue to spell `Ryme without our wrongly added h. c In the *second* person, shall as a mere future auxiliary appears never to have been usual, but in categorical questions it is normal, e.g. Shall you miss your train? I am afraid you will. d In the *third* person, superseded by will, except when anothers statement or expectation respecting himself is reported in the third person, e.g. He conveys that he shall not have time to write. Even in this case will is still not uncommon, but in some contexts leads to serious ambiguity. It might be therefore preferable, to some, to use ‘he shall’ as the indirect rendering of ‘I shall.’ 1489 Caxton Sonnes of Aymon ii. 64 Yf your fader come agayn from the courte, he shall wyll yelde you to the kynge Charlemayne. 1799 J. Robertson Agric. Perth, The effect of the statute labour  has always been, now is, and probably shall continue to be, less productive than it might. Down to the eighteenth century, shall, the auxiliary appropriate to the first person, is sometimes used when the utterer refers to himself in the third person. Cf. the formula: `And your petitioner shall ever pray. 1798 Kemble Let. in Pearsons Catal. (1900) 45: Mr. Kemble presents his respectful compliments to the Proprietors of the `Monthly Mirror, and shall have great pleasure at being at all able to aid them; in negative, or virtually negative, and interrogative use, shall often = will be able to. 1600 Shaks. Sonn. lxv: How with this rage shall beautie hold a plea. g) Used after a hypothetical clause or an imperative sentence in a statementsof a result to be expected from some action or occurrence. Now (exc. in the *first* person) usually replaced by will. But shall survives in literary use. 1851 Dasent Jest and Earnest, Visit Rome and you shall find him [the Pope] mere carrion. h) In clause expressing the object of a promise, or of an expectation accompanied by hope or fear, now only where shall is the ordinary future auxiliary, but down to the nineteenth century shall is often preferred to will in the *second* and *third* persons. 1628 in Ellis Orig. Lett. Ser., He is confident that the blood of Christ shall wash away his sins. 1654 E. Nicholas in N. Papers, I hope neither your Cosen Wat. Montagu nor  Walsingham shall be permitted to discourse  with  the D. of Gloucester. i) in impersonal phrases, "it shall be well, needful", etc. (to do so and so). (now "will"). j) shall be, added to a future date in clauses measuring time. 1617 Sir T. Wentworth in Fortescue Papers. To which purpose my late Lord Chancelour gave his direction about the 3. of Decembre shallbe-two-yeares. Usage No. 9: in the idiomatic use of the future to denote what ordinarily or occasionally occurs under specified conditions, shall was formerly the usual auxiliary. In the *second* and *third* persons, this is now somewhat formal or rhetorical. Ordinary language substitutes will or may. Often in antithetic statements coupled by an adversative conjunction or by and with adversative force. a in the first person. 1712 Steele Spect. In spite of all my Care, I shall every now and then have a saucy Rascal ride by reconnoitring  under my Windows. b) in the *second* person. 1852 Spencer Ess. After knowing him for years, you shall suddenly discover that your friends nose is slightly awry. c) in the *third* person. 1793 W. Roberts Looker-On, One man shall approve the same thing that another man shall condemn. 1870 M. Arnold St. Paul and Prot. It may well happen that a man who lives and thrives under a monarchy shall yet theoretically disapprove the principle of monarchy. Usage No. 10: in hypothetical, relative, and temporal clauses denoting a future contingency, the future auxiliary is shall for all persons alike. Where no ambiguity results, however, the present tense is commonly used for the future, and the perfect for the future-perfect. The use of shall, when not required for clearness, is, Grice grants, apt to sound pedantic by non Oxonians. Formerly sometimes used to express the sense of a present subjunctive. a) in hypothetical clauses. (shall I = if I shall) 1680 New Hampsh. Prov. Papers, If any Christian shall speak contempteously of the Holy Scriptures,  such person  shall be punished. b) in relative clauses, where the antecedent denotes an as yet undetermined person or thing: 1811 Southey Let., The minister who shall first become a believer in that book  will obtain a higher reputation than ever statesman did before him. 1874 R. Congreve Ess. We extend our sympathies to the unborn generations which shall follow us on this earth. c) in temporal clauses: 1830 Laws of Cricket in Nyren Yng. Cricketers Tutor, If in striking, or at any other time, while the ball shall be in play, both his feet be over the popping-crease. Usage No. 11: in clauses expressing the purposed result of some action, or the object of a desire, intention, command, or request, often admitting of being replaced by may. In Old English, and occasionally as late as the seventeenth century, the present subjunctive was used exactly as in Latin. a) in final clause usually introduced by that. In this use modern idiom prefers should (22 a): see quot. 1611 below, and the appended remarks. 1879 M. Pattison Milton At the age of nine and twenty, Milton has already determined that this lifework shall be an epic poem. b in relative clause: 1599 Shaks. Hen. V, ii. iv. 40: As Gardeners doe with Ordure hide those Roots that shall first spring. The choice between should and would follows the same as shall and will as future auxiliaries, except that should must sometimes be avoided on account of liability to be misinterpreted as = `ought to. In present usage, should occurs mainly in the first person. In the other persons it follows the use of shall. III Elliptical and quasi-elliptical uses. Usage No. 24: with ellipsis of verb of motion: = `shall go. Now arch. The use is common in OHG. and OS., and in later HG., LG., and Du. In the mod. Scandinavian languages it is also common, and instances occur in MSw.] 1596 Shaks. 1 Hen. IV, That with our small coniunction we should on. 1598 Shaks. Merry W. If the bottome were as deepe as hell, I shold down. Usage No. 25: in questions, what shall = `what shall (it) profit, `what good shall (I) do. Usage No. 26: with the sense `is due, `is proper, `is to be given or applied. Cf. G. soll. Usage No. 27: a) with ellipsis of active infinitive to be supplied from the context. 1892 Mrs. H. Ward David Grieve, `No, indeed, I havnt got all I want, said Lucy `I never shall, neither. b) Phrase, if I shall. Now dial. 1390 Gower Conf. II. 96: Doun knelende on mi kne I take leve, and if I schal, I kisse hire. 1390 Gower Conf., II. 96: I wolde kisse hire eftsones if I scholde. 1871 Earle Philol. Engl. Tongue 203: The familiar proposal to carry a basket, I will if I shall, that is, I am willing if you will command me; I will if so required. 1886 W. Somerset Word-bk. Ill warn our Tomll do it vor ee, nif he shall-i.e. if you wish. c) with generalized ellipsis in proverbial phrase: needs must that needs shall = `he must whom fate compels. Usage No. 28: a) with ellipsis of do (not occurring in the context). 1477 Norton Ord. Alch., O King that shall These Workes! b) the place of the inf. is sometimes supplied by that or so placed at the beginning of the sentence. The construction may be regarded as an ellipsis of "do". It is distinct from the use (belonging to 27) in which so has the sense of `thus, `likewise, or `also. In the latter there is usually inversion, as so shall I. 1888 J. S. Winter Bootles Childr. iv: I should like to see her now shes grown up. `So you shall. Usage No. 29: with ellipsis of be or passive inf., or with so in place of this (where the preceding context has is, was, etc.). 1615 J. Chamberlain in Crt. And Times Jas. I. He is not yet executed, nor I hear not when he shall. Surely he may not will that he be executed. And then Grice turns to the auxiliary he prefers, will. The OED has will, would. It is traced to Old English willan, pres.t. wille, willaþ, pa. t. wolde.Grice was especially interested to check Jamess and Prichards use of willing that, Prichards shall will and the will/shall distinction. Usage No. I: The present tense will. Usage No. 1 Transitive uses, with simple obj. or obj. clause; occas. intr. 1 trans. with simple obj.: desire, wish for, have a mind to, `want (something); sometimes implying also `intend, purpose. 1601 Shaks. (title) Twelfe Night, Or what you will. 1654 Whitlock Zootomia 44 Will what befalleth, and befall what will. 1734 tr. Rollins Anc. Hist. V. 31 He that can do what ever he will is in great danger of willing what he ought not. b intr. with well or ill, or trans. with sbs. of similar meaning (e.g. good, health), usually with dat. of person: Wish (or intend) well or ill (to some one), feel or cherish good-will or ill-will. Obs. (cf. will v.2 1 b). See also well-willing a. d to will well that: to be willing that. 1483 Caxton Gold. Leg. I wyl wel that thou say, and yf thou say ony good, thou shalt be pesybly herde. Usage No. 2: trans. with obj. clause (with vb. in pres. subj., or in periphrastic form with should), or acc. and inf.: Desire, wish; sometimes implying also `intend, purpose (that something be done or happen). 1548 Hutten Sum of Diuinitie K viij, God wylle all men to be saued. Usage No. 3: Denoting expression (usually authoritative) of a wish or intention: Determine, decree, ordain, enjoin, give order (that something be done). 1528 Cromwell in Merriman Life and Lett. (1902) I. 320 His grace then wille that thellection of a new Dean shalbe emonges them of the colledge. b spec. in a direction or instruction in ones will or testament; hence, to direct by will (that something be done). 1820 Giffords Compl. Engl. Lawyer. I do hereby will and direct that my executrix..do excuse and release the said sum of 100l. to him. c figurative usage. of an abstract thing (e.g. reason, law): Demands, requires. 1597 Shaks. 2 Hen. IV, Our Battaile is more full of Namess then yours Then Reason will, our hearts should be as good. Usage No. 4 transf. (from 2). Intends to express, means; affirms, maintains. 1602 Dolman La Primaud. Fr. Acad. Hee will that this authority should be for a principle of demonstration. 2 With dependent infinitive (normally without "to"). Usage No. 5 Desire to, wish to, have a mind to (do something); often also implying intention. 1697 Ctess DAunoys Trav. I will not write to you often, because I will always have a stock of News to tell you, which..is pretty long in picking up. 1704 Locke Hum. Und.  The great Encomiasts of the Chineses, do all to a man agree and will convince us that the Sect of the Literati are Atheists. 6 In relation to anothers desire or requirement, or to an obligation of some kind: Am (is, are) disposed or willing to, consent to; †in early use sometimes = deign or condescend to.With the (rare and obs.) imper. use, as in quot. 1490, cf. b and the corresponding negative use in 12 b. 1921 Times Lit. Suppl. 10 Feb. 88/3 Literature thrives where people will read what they do not agree with, if it is good. b In 2nd person, interrog., or in a dependent clause after beg or the like, expressing a request (usually courteous; with emphasis, impatient). 1599 Shaks. Hen. V, ii. i. 47 Will you shogge off? 1605 1878 Hardy Ret. Native v. iii, O, O, O,..O, will you have done! Usage No. 7 Expressing voluntary action, or conscious intention directed to the doing of what is expressed by the principal verb (without temporal reference as in 11, and without emphasis as in 10): = choose to (choose v. B. 3 a). The proper word for this idea, which cannot be so precisely expressed by any other. 1685 Baxter Paraphr., When God will tell us we shall know. Usage No. 8 Expressing natural disposition to do something, and hence habitual action: Has the habit, or `a way, of --ing; is addicted or accustomed to --ing; habitually does; sometimes connoting `may be expected to (cf. 15). 1865 Ruskin Sesame, Men, by their nature, are prone to fight; they will fight for any cause, or for none. Usage No. 9 Expressing potentiality, capacity, or sufficiency: Can, may, is able to, is capable of --ing; is (large) enough or sufficient to.†it will not be: it cannot be done or brought to pass; it is all in vain. So, †will it not be? 1833 N. Arnott Physics, The heart will beat after removal from the body. Usage No. 10 As a strengthening of sense 7, expressing determination, persistence, and the like (without temporal reference as in 11). a Purposes to, is determined to. 1539 Bible (Great) Isa. lxvi. 6, I heare ye voyce of the Lorde, that wyll rewarde, & recompence his enemyes. b emphatically. Is fully determined to; insists on or persists in --ing: sometimes with mixture of sense 8. (In 1st pers. with implication of futurity, as a strengthening of sense 11 a. Also fig. = must inevitably, is sure to. 1892 E. Reeves Homeward Bound viii. 239, I have spent 6,000 francs to come here..and I will see it! c In phr. of ironical or critical force referring to anothers assertion or opinion. Now arch. exc. in will have it (see have v. B. 13 b). 1591 Shaks. 1 Hen. VI, This is a Riddling Merchant for the nonce, He will be here, and yet he is not here. 1728 Chambers Cycl., Honey, Some naturalists will have honey to be of a different quality, according to the difference of the flowers..the bees suck it from. Also, as auxiliary of the future tense with implication (entailment rather than cancellable implicatum) of intention, thus distinguished from ‘shall,’ v. B. 8, where see note). a In 1st person: sometimes in slightly stronger sense = intend to, mean to. 1600 Shaks. A.Y.L., To morrow will we be married. 1607 Shaks. Cor., Ile run away Till I am bigger, but then Ile fight. 1777 Clara Reeve Champion of Virtue, Never fear it..I will speak to Joseph about it. b In 2nd and 3rd pers., in questions or indirect statements. 1839 Lane Arab. Nts.,  I will cure thee without giving thee to drink any potion When King Yoonán heard his words, he..said.., How wilt thou do this? c will do (with omission of "I"): an expression of willingness to carry out a request. Cf. wilco. colloq. 1967 L. White Crimshaw Memorandum, `And find out where the bastard was `Will do, Jim said. 13 In 1st pers., expressing immediate intention: "I will" = `I am now going to, `I proceed at once to. 1885 Mrs. Alexander At Bay, Very well; I will wish you good-evening. b In 1st pers. pl., expressing a proposal: we will (†wule we) = `let us. 1798 Coleridge Nightingale 4 Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge!, c figurative, as in It will rain, (in 3rd pers.) of a thing: Is ready to, is on the point of --ing. 1225 Ancr. R. A treou þet wule uallen, me underset hit mid on oðer treou. 14 In 2nd and 3rd pers., as auxiliary expressing mere futurity, forming (with pres. inf.) the future, and (with pf. inf.) the future pf. tense: corresponding to "shall" in the 1st pers. (see note s.v. shall v. B. 8). 1847 Tennyson Princess iii. 12 Rest, rest, on mothers breast, Father will come to thee soon. b As auxiliary of future substituted for the imper. in mild injunctions or requests. 1876 Ruskin St. Marks Rest. That they should use their own balances, weights, and measures; (not by any means false ones, you will please to observe). 15 As auxiliary of future expressing a contingent event, or a result to be expected, in a supposed case or under particular conditions (with the condition expressed by a conditional, temporal, or imper. clause, or otherwise implied). 1861 M. Pattison Ess.  The lover of the Elizabethan drama will readily recal many such allusions; b with pers.sSubjects (usually 1st pers. sing.), expressing a voluntary act or choice in a supposed case, or a conditional promise or undertaking: esp. in asseverations, e.g. I will die sooner than, I’ll be hanged if, etc.). 1898 H. S. Merriman Rodens Corner. But I will be hanged if I see what it all means, now. c Expressing a determinate or necessary consequence (without the notion of futurity). 1887 Fowler Deductive Logic, From what has been said it will be seen that I do not agree with Mr. Mill. Mod. If, in a syllogism, the middle term be not distributed in either premiss, there will be no conclusion. d With the notion of futurity obscured or lost: = will prove or turn out to, will be found on inquiry to; may be supposed to, presumably does. Hence (chiefly Sc. and north. dial.) in estimates of amount, or in uncertain or approximate statements, the future becoming equivalent to a present with qualification: e.g. it will be = `I think it is or `it is about; what will that be? = `what do you think that is? 1584 Hornby Priory in Craven Gloss. Where on 40 Acres there will be xiij.s. iv.d. per acre yerely for rent. 1791 Grose Olio (1792) 106, I believe he will be an Irishman. 1791 Grose Olio. C. How far is it to Dumfries? W. It will be twenty miles. 1812 Brackenridge Views Louisiana, The agriculture of this territory will be very similar to that of Kentucky. 1876 Whitby Gloss. s.v. Biddels, This word we have only once heard, and that will be twenty years ago. 16 Used where "shall" is now the normal auxiliary, chiefly in expressing mere futurity: since 17th c. almost exclusively in Scottish, Irish, provincial, or extra-British use (see shall v. B. 7, 8, 10). 1602 Shaks. Ham. I will win for him if I can: if not, Ile gaine nothing but my shame, and the odde hits. 1825 Scott in Lockhart Ballantyne-humbug (1839) 99, I expect we will have some good singing. 1875 E. H. Dering Sherborne. `Will I start, sir? asked the Irish groom. Usage No. 3 Elliptical and quasi-elliptical uses. Usage No. 17 In absol. use, or with ellipsis of obj. clause as in 2: in meaning corresponding to senses 5-7.if you will is sometimes used parenthetically to qualify a word or phrase: = `if you wish it to be so called, `if you choose or prefer to call it so. 1696 Whiston The. Earth. Gravity depends entirely on the constant and efficacious, and, if you will, the supernatural and miraculous Influence of Almighty God. 1876 Ruskin St. Marks Rest. Very savage! monstrous! if you will. b In parenthetic phr. if God will (†also will God, rarely God will), God willing: if it be the will of God, `D.V.In OE. Gode willi&asg.ende (will v.2) = L. Deo volente. 1716 Strype in Thoresbys Lett. Next week, God willing, I take my journey to my Rectory in Sussex. c fig. Demands, requires (absol. or ellipt. use of 3 c). 1511 Reg. Privy Seal Scot. That na seculare personis have intrometting with thaim uther wais than law will. d Phr. I will well: I assent, `I should think so indeed. (Cf. F. je veux bien.) Usage No. 18: with ellipsis of a vb. of motion. 1885 Bridges Eros and Psyche Aug. xviii, I will to thee oer the stream afloat. Usage No. 19: with ellipsis of active inf. to be supplied from the context. 1836 Dickens Sk. Boz, Steam Excurs., `Will you go on deck? `No, I will not. This was said with a most determined air. 1853 Dickens Bleak Ho. lii, I cant believe it. Its not that I dont or I wont. I cant! 1885 Mrs. Alexander Valeries Fate vi, `Do you know that all the people in the house will think it very shocking of me to walk with you?.. `The deuce they will! b With generalized ellipsis, esp. in proverbial saying (now usually as in quot. 1562, with will for would). 1639 J. Clarke Paroem. 237 He that may and will not, when he would he shall not. c With so or that substituted for the omitted inf. phr.: now usually placed at the beginning of the sentence. 1596 Shaks. Tam. Shr. Hor. I promist we would..beare his charge of wooing Gremio. And so we wil. d Idiomatically used in a qualifying phr. with relative, equivalent to a phr. with indef. relative in -ever; often with a thing as subj., becoming a mere synonym of may: e.g. shout as loud as you will = `however loud you (choose to) shout; come what will = `whatever may come; be that as it will = `however that may be. 1732 Pope Mor. Ess. The ruling Passion, be it what it will, The ruling Passion conquers Reason still. 20 With ellipsis of pass. inf. A. 1774 Goldsm. Surv. Exp. Philos. The airs force is compounded of its swiftness and density, and as these are encreased, so will the force of the wind. Usage No. 21: in const. where the ellipsis may be either of an obj. clause (as in 17) or of an inf. (as in 19). a In a disjunctive qualifying clause or phr. (usually parenthetic), as whether he will or no, will he or not, (with pron. omitted) will or no, (with or omitted) will he will he not, will he nill he (see VI. below and willy-nilly), etc.In quot. 1592 vaguely = `one way or another, `in any case. For the distinction between should and would, v. note s.v. shall, v. B . Usage No. 19 b. 46 In a noun-clause expressing the object of desire, advice, or request.Usually with a person as subj., implying voluntary action as the desired end: thus distinguished from should, which may be used when the persons will is not in view. Also (almost always after wish) with a thing as Subjects, in which case should can never be substituted because it would suggest the idea of command or compulsion instead of mere desire. Cf. shall v. B. 22 a.  will. v.2 Pres. t. 2 sing. willest, 3 sing. willeth (arch.), wills; pa. t. and pple. willed (wIld). Also: willian, willi, wyll, wille, wil, will, willode, will, wyllede, wylled, willyd, ied, -it, -id, willed; wijld, wilde, wild, willid, -yd, wylled,willet, 6- willed; 6 willd(e, 6-7 wild., OE. willian wk. vb. = German “willen.” f. will sb.1, 1 trans. to wish, desire; sometimes with implication of intention: = will v.1 1, 2, 5. 1400 Lat. and Eng. Prov., He þt a lytul me 3euyth to me wyllyth optat longe lyffe. 1548 Udall, etc. Erasm. Par. Matt. v. 21-24 Who so euer hath gotten to hymselfe the charitie of the gospell, whyche wylleth wel to them that wylleth yll. 1581 A. Hall Iliad, By Mineruas helpe, who willes you all the ill she may. A. 1875 Tennyson Q. Mary i. iv, A great party in the state Wills me to wed her. b To assert, affirm: = will v.1 B. 4. 1614 Selden Titles Hon. None of this excludes Vnction before, but only wils him the first annointed by the Pope. 2 a to direct by ones will or testament (that something be done, or something to be done). b To dispose of by will; to bequeath or devise. 3 To determine by the will; to attempt to cause, aim at effecting by exercise of will; to set the mind with conscious intention to the performance or occurrence of something; to choose or decide to do something, or that something shall be done or happen. Const. with simple obj., acc. and inf., simple inf. (now always with to), or obj. clause; also absol. or intr. (with as or so). Nearly coinciding in meaning with will v.1 7, but with more explicit reference to the mental process of volition. 1630 Prynne Anti-Armin. 119 He had onely a power, not to fall into sinne vnlesse he willed it. 1667 Milton P.L. So absolute she seems..that what she wills to do or say, Seems wisest. 1710 J. Clarke tr. Rohaults Nat. Philos. If I will to move my Arm, it is presently moved. 1712 Berkeley Pass. Obed. He that willeth the end, doth will the necessary means conducive to that end. 1837 Carlyle Fr. Rev. All shall be as God wills. 1880 Meredith Tragic Com. So great, heroical, giant-like, that what he wills must be. 1896 Housman Shropsh. Lad xxx, Others, I am not the first, Have willed more mischief than they durst. b intr. To exercise the will; to perform the mental act of volition. 1594 Hooker Eccl. Pol. To will, is to bend our soules to the hauing or doing of that which they see to be good. 1830 Mackintosh Eth. Philos. Wks.. But what could induce such a being to will or to act? 1867 A. P. Forbes Explan. Is this infinitely powerful and intelligent Being free? wills He? loves He? c trans. To bring or get (into, out of, etc.) by exercise of will. 1850 L. Hunt Table-t. (1882) 184 Victims of opium have been known to be unable to will themselves out of the chair in which they were sitting. d To control (another person), or induce (another) to do something, by the mere exercise of ones will, as in hypnotism. 1882 Proc. Soc. Psych. Research I. 57 note, The one to be `willed would go to the other end of the house, if desired, whilst we agreed upon the thing to be done. 1886 19th Cent. They are what is called `willed to do certain things desired by the ladies or gentlemen who have hold of them. 1897 A. Lang Dreams & Ghosts iii. 59 A young lady, who believed that she could play the `willing game successfully without touching the person `willed. Usage No. 4 To express or communicate ones will or wish with regard to something, with various shades of meaning, cf. will, v.1 3., specifically: a to enjoin, order; to decree, ordain, a) with personal obj., usually with inf. or clause. 1481 Cov. Leet Bk. 496 We desire and also will you that vnto oure seid seruaunt ye yeue your aid. 1547 Edw. VI in Rymer Foedera, We Wyll and Commaunde yowe to Procede in the seid Matters. 1568 Grafton Chron., Their sute was smally regarded, and shortly after they were willed to silence. 1588 Lambarde Eiren. If a man do lie in awaite to rob me, and (drawing his sword upon me) he willeth me to deliver my money. 1591 Shaks. 1 Hen. VI We doe no otherwise then wee are willd. 1596 Nashe Saffron Walden P 4, Vp he was had and.willed to deliuer vp his weapon. 1656 Hales Gold. Rem. The King in the Gospel, that made a Feast, and..willed his servants to go out to the high-ways side. 1799 Nelson in Nicolas Disp., Willing and requiring all Officers and men to obey you. (b) with thing as obj., either sb. (alone or with inf. pass.) or obj. clause; also absol. in clause with as. (See also 2 a.) 1565 Cooper Thesaurus s.v. Classicum, By sounde of trumpet to will scilence. 1612 Bacon Ess., Of Empire. It is common with Princes (saith Tacitus) to will contradictories. 1697 Dryden Æneis i. 112 Tis yours, O Queen! to will The Work, which Duty binds me to fulfil. 1877 Tennyson Harold vi. i, Get thou into thy cloister as the king Willd it. b To pray, request, entreat; = desire v. 6. 1454 Paston Lett. Suppl. As for the questyon that ye wylled me to aske my lord, I fond hym yet at no good leyser. 1564 Haward tr. Eutropius. The Romaines sent ambassadoures to him, to wyll him to cease from battayle. 1581 A. Hall Iliad, His errand done, as he was willde, he toke his flight from thence. 1631 [Mabbe] Celestina. Did I not will you I should not be wakened? 1690 Dryden Amphitryon i. i, He has sent me to will and require you to make a swinging long Night for him. c fig. of a thing: To require, demand (cf. will v.1 B. 3 c); also, to induce, persuade (a person to do something). 1445 in Anglia. Constaunce willeth also That thou doo noughte with weyke corage. Cable and Baugh note that one important s. of prescriptions that now form part of all our grammars -- that governing the use of will and shall -- has its origin in this period. Previous to 1622 no grammar recognized any distinction between will and shall. In 1653 Wallis in his Grammatica Linguae Anglicanae states in Latin and for the benefit of Europeans that Subjectsive intention is expressed by will in the first person, by shall in the second and third, while simple factual indicative predictable futurity is expressed by shall in the first person, by will in the second and third. It is not until the second half of the eighteenth century that the use in questions and subordinate clauses is explicitly defined. In 1755 Johnson, in his Dictionary, states the rule for questions, and in 1765 William Ward, in his Grammar, draws up for the first time the full set of prescriptions that underlies, with individual variations, the rules found in later tracts. Wards pronouncements are not followed generally by other grammarians until Lindley Murray gives them greater currency in 1795. Since about 1825 they have often been repeated in grammars, v. Fries, The periphrastic future with will and shall. Will qua modal auxiliary never had an s. The absence of conjugation is a very old common Germanic phenomenon. OE 3rd person present indicative of willan (and of the preterite-present verbs) is not distinct from the 1st person present indicative. That dates back at least to CGmc, or further if one looks just as the forms and ignore tense and/or mood). Re: Prichard: "Prichard wills that he go to London. This is Prichards example, admired by Grice ("but I expect not pleasing to Maucaulays ears"). The -s is introduced to indicate a difference between the modal and main verb use (as in Prichard and Grice) of will. In fact, will, qua modal, has never been used with a to-infinitive. OE uses present-tense forms to refer to future events as well as willan and sculan. willan would give a volitional nuance; sculan, an obligational nuance. Its difficult to find an example of weorthan used to express the future, but that doesnt mean it didnt happen. In insensitive utterers, will has very little of volition about it, unless one follows Walliss observation for  for I will vs. I shall. Most probably use ll, or be going to for the future. Davidson, Intending, R. Grandy and Warner, PGRICE. “Uncertainty,” “Aspects.” “Conception,” Davidson on intending, intending and trying, Brandeis.”Method,” in “Conception,” WOW . Hampshire and Hart. Decision, intention, and certainty, Mind, Harman, Willing and intending in PGRICE. Practical reasoning. Review of Met.  29. Thought, Princeton, for functionalist approach alla Grice’s “Method.” Principles of reasoning. Rational action and the extent of intention. Social theory and practice. Jeffrey, Probability kinematics, in The logic of decision, cited by Harman in PGRICE. Kahneman and Tversky, Judgement under uncertainty, Science, cited by Harman in PGRICE. Nisbet and Ross, Human inference, cited by Harman in PGRICE. Pears, Predicting and deciding. Prichard, Acting, willing, and desiring, in Moral obligations, Oxford ed. by Urmson  Speranza, The Grice Circle Wants You. Stout, Voluntary action. Mind 5, repr in Studies in philosophy and psychology, Macmillan, cited by Grice, “Uncertainty.” Urmson, ‘Introduction’ to Prichard’s ‘Moral obligations.’ I shant but Im not certain I wont – Grice. How uncertain can Grice be? This is the Henriette Herz BA lecture, and as such published in The Proceedings of the BA. Grice calls himself a neo-Prichardian (after the Oxford philosopher) and cares to quote from a few other philosophers  ‒ some of whom he was not necessarily associated with: such as Kenny and Anscombe, and some of whom he was, notably Pears. Grices motto: Where there is a neo-Prichardian willing, there is a palæo-Griceian way! Grice quotes Pears, of Christ Church, as the philosopher he found especially congenial to explore areas in what both called philosophical psychology, notably the tricky use of intending as displayed by a few philosophers even in their own circle, such as Hampshire and Hart in Intention, decision, and certainty. The title of Grices lecture is meant to provoke that pair of Oxonian philosophers Grice knew so well and who were too ready to bring in certainty in an area that requires deep philosophical exploration. This is the Henriette Herz Trust annual lecture. It means its delivered annually by different philosophers, not always Grice! Grice had been appointed a FBA earlier, but he took his time to deliver his lecture. With your lecture, you implicate, Hi! Grice, and indeed Pears, were motivated by Hampshires and Harts essay on intention and certainty in Mind. Grice knew Hampshire well, and had actually enjoyed his Thought and Action. He preferred Hampshires Thought and action to Anscombes Intention. Trust Oxford being what it is that TWO volumes on intending are published in the same year! Which one shall I read first? Eventually, neither ‒ immediately. Rather, Grice managed to unearth some sketchy notes by Prichard (he calls himself a neo-Prichardian) that Urmson had made available for the Clarendon Press ‒ notably Prichards essay on willing that. Only a Corpus-Christi genius like Prichard will distinguish will to, almost unnecessary, from will that, so crucial. For Grice, wills that , unlike  wills to, is properly generic, in that p, that follows the that-clause, need NOT refer to the Subjects of the sentence. Surely I can will that Smith wins the match! But Grice also quotes Anscombe (whom otherwise would not count, although they did share a discussion panel at the American Philosophical Association) and Kenny, besides Pears. Of Anscombe, Grice borrows (but never returns) the direction-of-fit term of art, actually Austinian. From Kenny, Grice borrows (and returns) the concept of voliting. His most congenial approach was Pearss. Grice had of course occasion to explore disposition and intention on earlier occasions. Grice is especially concerned with a dispositional analysis to intending. He will later reject it in “Uncertainty.” But that was Grice for you! Grice is especially interested in distinguishing his views from Ryles over-estimated dispositional account of intention, which Grice sees as reductionist, and indeed eliminationist, if not boringly behaviourist, even in analytic key. The logic of dispositions is tricky, as Grice will later explore in connection with rationality, rational propension or propensity, and metaphysics, the as if operator). While Grice focuses on uncertainty, he is trying to be funny. He knew that Oxonians like Hart and Hampshire were obsessed with certainty. I was so surprised that Hampshire and Hart were claiming decision and intention are psychological states about which the agent is certain, that I decided on the spot that that could certainly be a nice topic for my BA lecture! Grice granted that in some cases, a declaration of an intention can be authorative in a certain certain way, i. e. as implicating certainty. But Grice wants us to consider: Marmaduke Bloggs intends to climb Mt. Everest. Surely he cant be certain hell succeed. Grice used the same example at the APA, of all places. To amuse Grice, Davidson, who was present, said: Surely thats just an implicature! Just?! Grice was almost furious in his British guarded sort of way. Surely not just! Pears, who was also present, tried to reconcile: If I may, Davidson, I think Grice would take it that, if certainty is implicated, the whole thing becomes too social to be true.  They kept discussing implicature versus entailment. Is certainty entailed then? Cf. Urmson on certainly vs. knowingly, and believably. Davidson asked. No, disimplicated! is Grices curt reply. The next day, he explained to Davidson that he had invented the concept of disimplicature just to tease him, and just one night before, while musing in the hotel room! Talk of uncertainty was thus for Grice intimately associated with his concern about the misuse of know to mean certain, especially in the exegeses that Malcolm made popular about, of all people, Moore! V. Scepticism and common sense and Moore and philosophers paradoxes above, and Causal theory and Prolegomena for a summary of Malcoms misunderstanding Moore! Grice manages to quote from Stouts Voluntary action and Brecht. And he notes that not all speakers are as sensitive as they should be (e.g. distinguishing modes, as realised by shall vs. will). He emphasizes the fact that Prichard has to be given great credit for seeing that the accurate specification of willing should be willing that and not willing to. Grice is especially interested in proving Stoutians (like Hampshire and Hart) wrong by drawing from Aristotles prohairesis-doxa distinction, or in his parlance, the buletic-doxastic distinction. Grice quotes from Aristotle. Prohairesis cannot be opinion/doxa. For opinion is thought to relate to all kinds of things, no less to eternal things and impossible things than to things in our own power; and it is distinguished by its falsity or truth, not by its badness or goodness, while choice is distinguished rather by these. Now with opinion in general perhaps no one even says it is identical. But it is not identical even with any kind of opinion; for by choosing or deciding, or prohairesis, what is good or bad we are men of a certain character, which we are not by holding this or that opinion or doxa. And we choose to get or avoid something good or bad, but we have opinions about what a thing is or whom it is good for or how it is good for him; we can hardly be said to opine to get or avoid anything. And choice is praised for being related to the right object rather than for being rightly related to it, opinion for being truly related to its object. And we choose what we best know to be good, but we opine what we do not quite know; and it is not the same people that are thought to make the best choices and to have the best opinions, but some are thought to have fairly good opinions, but by reason of vice to choose what they should not. If opinion precedes choice or accompanies it, that makes no difference; for it is not this that we are considering, but whether it is identical with some kind of opinion. What, then, or what kind of thing is it, since it is none of the things we have mentioned? It seems to be voluntary, but not all that is voluntary to be an object of choice. Is it, then, what has been decided on by previous deliberation? At any rate choice involves a rational principle and thought. Even the Names seems to suggest that it is what is chosen before other things. His final analysis of G intends that p is in terms of, B1, a buletic condition, to the effect that G wills that p, and D2, an attending doxastic condition, to the effect that G judges that B1 causes p. Grice ends this essay with a nod to Pears and an open point about the justifiability (other than evidential) for the acceptability of the agents deciding and intending versus the evidential justifiability of the agents predicting that what he intends will be satisfied. It is important to note that in his earlier Disposition and intention, Grice dedicates the first part to counterfactual if general. This is a logical point. Then as an account for a psychological souly concept ψ. If G does A, sensory input, G does B, behavioural output. No ψ without the behavioural output that ψ is meant to explain. His problem is with the first person. The functionalist I does not need a black box. The  here would be both incorrigibility and privileged access. Pology only explains their evolutionary import. Refs.: The main source is his BA lecture on ‘uncertainty,’ but using the keyword ‘certainty’ is useful too. His essay on Descartes in WoW is important, and sources elsehere in the Grice Papers, such as the predecessor to the “Uncertainty” lecture in “Disposition and intention,” also his discussion of avowal (vide references above), incorrigibility and privileged access in “Method,” repr. in “Conception,” BANC

universalium: Grice holds a set-theoretical approach to the universalium. Grice is willing to provide always a set-theoretical extensionalist (in terms of predicate) and an intensionalist variant in terms of property and category. Grice explicitly uses ‘X’ for utterance-type (WOW:118), implying a distinction with the utterance-token. Grice gets engaged in a metabolical debate concerning the reductive analysis of what an utterance-type means in terms of a claim to the effect that, by uttering x, an utterance-token of utterance-type X, the utterer means that p. The implicature is x (utterance-token). Grice was not enamoured with the type/token or token/type distinction. His thoughts on logical form were provocative: If you cant put it in logical form, its not worth saying. Strawson infamously reacted, but with a smile: Oh, no! If you CAN put it in logical form, it is not worth saying. Grice refers to the type-token distinction when he uses x for token and X for type. Since Bennett cared to call Grice a meaning-nominalist we should not CARE about Xs anyway. He expands on this in Retrospective Epilogue. Grice should have payed more attention to the distinction seeing that it was Ogdenian. A common mode of estimating the amount of matter in a printed book is to count the number of words. There will ordinarily be about twenty thes on a page, and, of course, they count as twenty words. In another use of the word word, however, there is but one word the in the English language; and it is impossible that this word should lie visibly on a page, or be heard in any voice. Such a Form, Peirce, as cited by Ogden and Richards, proposes to term a type. A single object such as this or that word on a single line of a single page of a single copy of a book, Peirce ventures to call a token. In order that a type may be used, it has to be embodied in a token which shall be a sign of the type, and thereby of the object the type signifies, and Grice followed suit. Refs.: Some of the sources are given under ‘abstracta,’ above. Also under ‘grecianism,’ since Grice was keen on exploring what Aristotle has to say about this in Categoriae, due to his joint research with Austin, Code, Friedman, and Strawson. Grice also has a specific Peirceian essay on the type-token distinction. BANC

utilitarianism: ultimately, Grice’s meta-ethics, like Hare’s derives into a qualified utilitarianism, with notions of agreeableness and eudaemonia being crucial. Grice well knows that for Aristotle pleasure is just one out of the three sources for phulia,-- the others being profit, and virtue. As an English utilitarian, or English futilitarian, Grice plays with Griceian pleasures. Democritus, as Grice remarks, seems to be the earliest philosopher to have categorically embraced a hedonistic philosophy. Democritus claims that the supreme goal of life is contentment or cheerfulness, stating that joy and sorrow are the distinguishing mark of things beneficial and harmful. The Cyrenaics are an ultra-hedonist Grecoam school of philosophy founded by Aristippus. Many of the principles of the school were set by his grandson, Aristippus the Younger, and Theodorus. The Cyrenaic school is one of the earliest Socratic schools. The Cyrenaics teach that the only intrinsic ‘agathon’ is pleasure ‘hedone,’ which means not just the absence of pain, but a positively enjoyable momentary sensation. A physical pleasure is stronger than a pleasure of anticipation or memory. The Cyrenaics do, however, recognize the value of social obligation, and that pleasure may be gained from altruism. The Cyrenaic school dies out within a century, and is replaced by Epicureanism.  The Cyrenaics are known for their sceptical epistemology. The Cyrenaics reduce logic to a basic doctrine concerning the criterion of truth. The Cyrenaics think that one can only know with certainty his immediate sense-experience, e. g., that he is having a sweet sensation. But one can know nothing about the nature of the object that causes this sensation, e.g., that honey is sweet. The Cyrenaics also deny that we can have knowledge of what the experience of others are like. All knowledge is immediate sensation. Sensation is a motion which is purely subjective, and is painful, indifferent or pleasant, according as it is violent, tranquil or gentle. Further, sensation is entirely individual and can in no way be described as constituting absolute objective knowledge. Feeling, therefore, is the only possible criterion of knowledge and of conduct. The way of being affected is alone knowable. Thus the sole aim for everyone should be pleasure. Cyrenaicism deduces a single, universal aim for all which is pleasure. Furthermore, feeling is momentary and homogeneous. It follows that past and future pleasure have no real existence for us, and that in present pleasure there is no distinction of kind. Socrates speaks of the higher pleasure of the intellect. The Cyrenaics denies the validity of this distinction and say that bodily pleasure (hedone somatike), being more simple and more intense, is preferable. Momentary pleasure, preferably of a physical kind, is the only good for a human. However, an action which gives immediate pleasure can create more than their equivalent of pain. The wise person should be in control (egcrateia) of pleasure rather than be enslaved to it, otherwise pain results, and this requires judgement to evaluate this or that pleasure of life. Regard should be paid to law and custom, because even though neither law nor custom have an intrinsic value on its own, violating law or custom leads to an unpleasant penalty being imposed by others. Likewise, friendship and justice are useful because of the pleasure they provide. Thus the Cyrenaics believe in the hedonistic value of social obligation and altruistic behaviour.  Epicureanism is a system of philosophy based upon the teachings of Epicurus, an atomic materialist, following in the steps of Democritus and Leucippus. Epicurus’s materialism leads him to a general stance against superstition or the idea of divine intervention. Following Aristippus, Epicurus believes that the greatest good is to seek modest, sustainable pleasure in the form of a state of tranquility and freedom from fear (ataraxia) and absence of bodily pain (aponia) through knowledge of the workings of the world and the limits of desire. The combination of these two states, ataraxia and aponia, is supposed to constitute happiness in its highest form. Although Epicureanism is a form of hedonism, insofar as it declares pleasure as the sole intrinsic good, its conception of absence of pain as the greatest pleasure and its advocacy of a simple life make it different from hedonism as it is commonly understood. In the Epicurean view, the highest pleasure (tranquility and freedom from fear) is obtained by knowledge, friendship and living a virtuous and temperate life. Epicurus lauds the enjoyment of a simple pleasure, by which he means abstaining from the bodily desire, such as sex and the appetite, verging on asceticism. Epicurus argues that when eating, one should not eat too richly, for it could lead to dissatisfaction later, such as the grim realization that one could not afford such delicacies in the future. Likewise, sex could lead to increased lust and dissatisfaction with the sexual partner. Epicurus does not articulate a broad system of social ethics that has survived but had a unique version of the golden rule.  It is impossible to live a pleasant life without living wisely and well and justly, agreeing neither to harm nor be harmed, and it is impossible to live wisely and well and justly without living a pleasant life. Epicureanism is originally a challenge to Platonism, though later it became the main opponent of Stoicism. Epicurus and his followers shun politics. After the death of Epicurus, his school is headed by Hermarchus. Later many Epicurean societies flourish in the Late Hellenistic era and during the Roman era, such as those in Antiochia, Alexandria, Rhodes and Ercolano. The poet Lucretius is its most known Roman proponent. By the end of the Roman Empire, having undergone attack and repression, Epicureanism has all but died out, and would be resurrected in the seventeenth century by the atomist Pierre Gassendi. Some writings by Epicurus have survived. Some scholars consider the epic poem “De natura rerum” by Lucretius to present in one unified work the core arguments and theories of Epicureanism. Many of the papyrus scrolls unearthed at the Villa of the Papyri at Herculaneum are Epicurean texts. At least some are thought to have belonged to the Epicurean Philodemus. Cf. Barnes on epicures and connoiseurs. Many a controversy arising out of this or that value judgement is settled by saying, ‘I like it and you don’t, and that s the end of the matter.’ I am content to adopt this solution of the difficulty on matters such as food and drink. Even here, though, we admit the existence of epicures and connoisseurs.Why are we not content to accept the same solution on every matter where value is concerned? The reason I am not so content lies in the fact that the action of one man dictated by his approval of something is frequently incompatible with the action of another man dictated by his approval of something. This is obviously philosophical, especially for the Grecian hedonistic Epicureians made popular by Marius and Walter Pater at Oxford. L and S have "ἡδονή,” also “ἁδονά,” or in a chorus in tragedy, “ἡδονά,” ultimately from "ἥδομαι.” They render it as “enjoyment, pleasure,” “prop. of sensual pleasure.” αἱ τοῦ σώματος or περὶ τὸ σῶμα ἡ.; αἱ κατὰ τὸ σῶμα ἡ. Plato, Republic, 328d; σωματικαὶ ἡ. Arist. Eth. Nich. 1151a13; αἱ περὶ πότους καὶ περὶ ἐδωδὰς ἡ. Plato, Republic, 389e; but also ἀκοῆς ἡ; ἡ ἀπὸ τοῦ εἰδέναι ἡ. Pl. R. 582b; of malicious pleasure, ἡ ἐπὶ τοῖς τῶν φίλων κακοῖς, ἐπὶ ταῖς λοιδορίαις ἡ.; ἡδονῇ ἡσσᾶσθαι, ἡδοναῖς χαρίζεσθαι, to give way to pleasure; Pl. Lg. 727c; κότερα ἀληθείη χρήσομαι ἢ ἡδονῆ; shall I speak truly or so as to humour you? εἰ ὑμῖν ἡδονὴ τοῦ ἡγεμονεύειν; ἡ. εἰσέρχεταί τιϝι εἰ, “one feels pleasure at the thought that …” ; ἡδονὴν ἔχειν τινός to be satisfied with; ἡδονὴν ἔχει, φέρει; ἡδονὴ ἰδέσθαι (θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι), of a temple; δαίμοσιν πρὸς ἡδονήν;  ὃ μέν ἐστι πρὸς ἡ.; πρὸς ἡ. Λέγειν, “to speak so as to please another”; δημηγορεῖν; οὐ πρὸς ἡ. οἱ ἦν τὰ ἀγγελλόμενα; πάντα πρὸς ἡ. ἀκούοντας; later πρὸς ἡδονῆς εἶναί τινι; καθ᾽ ἡδονὴν κλύειν; καθ᾽ ἡδονήν ἐστί μοι; καθ᾽ ἡ. τι δρᾶν, ποιεῖν; καθ᾽ ἡδονὰς τῷ δήμῳ τὰ πράγματα ἐνδιδόναι; ἐν ἡδονῇ ἐστί τινι, it is a pleasure or delight to another; ἐν ἡδονῇ ἔχειν τινάς, to take pleasure in them; ἐν ἡδονῇ ἄρχοντες, oοἱ λυπηροί; μεθ᾽ ἡδονῆς; ὑφ᾽ ἡδονῆς; ὑπὸ τῆς ἡ; ἡδονᾷ with pleasure; a pleasure; ἡδοναὶ τραγημάτων sweetmeats; plural., desires after pleasure, pleasant lusts. In Ionic philosophers, taste, flavour, usually joined with χροιή. Note that Aristotle uses somatike hedone. As a Lit. Hum. Oxon., and especially as a tutee of Hardie at Corpus, Grice is almost too well aware of the centrality of hedone in Aristotles system. Pleasure is sometimes rendered “placitum,” as in “ad placitum,” in scholastic philosophy, but that is because scholastic philosophy is not as Hellenic as it should be. Actually, Grice prefers “agreeable.” One of Grices requisites for an ascription of eudaemonia (to have a fairy godmother) precisely has the system of ends an agent chooses to realise to be an agreeable one. One form or mode of agreeableness, Grice notes, is, unless counteracted, automatically attached to the attainment of an object of desire, such attainment being routinely a source of satisfaction. The generation of such a satisfaction thus provides an independent ground for preferring one system of ends to another. However, some other mode of agreeableness, such as e. g. being a source of delight, which is not routinely associated with the fulfilment of this or that desire, could discriminate, independently of other features relevant to such a preference, between one system of ends and another. Further, a system of ends the operation of which is especially agreeable is stable not only vis-à-vis a rival system, but also against the somewhat weakening effect of ‘egcrateia,’ incontinence, or akrasia, if you mustn’t. A disturbing influence, as Aristotle knows from experience, is more surely met by a principle in consort with a supporting attraction than by the principle alone. Grices favourite hedonistic implicatum was “please,” as in “please, please me,” by The Beatles. While Grice claims to love Kantotle, he cannot hide his greater reverence for Aristotle, instilled early on at Corpus. An Oxonian need not recite Kant in what during the Second World War was referred to as the Hun, and while Aristotle was a no-no at Clifton (koine!), Hardie makes Grice love him. With eudaemonia, Grice finds a perfect synthetic futilitarian concept to balance his innate analytic tendencies. There is Grecian eudaemonism and there is Griceian eudaemonism. L and S are not too helpful. They have “εὐδαιμονία” (Ion. –ιη), which they render not as happiness, but as “prosperity, good fortune, opulence.” -- χρημάτων προσόδῳ καὶ τῇ ἄλλῃ εὐ.; of countries; “μοῖρ᾽ εὐδαιμονίας.” In a second use, the expression is indeed rendered as “true, full happiness.” -- “εὐ. οὐκ ἐν βοσκήμασιν οἰκεῖ οὐδ᾽ ἐν χρυσῷ; εὐ. ψυχῆς, oκακοδαιμονίη, cf. Pl. Def. 412d, Arist. EN 1095a18, sometimes personified as a divinity. There is eudaemonia and there is kakodaemonia. Of course, Grice’s locus classicus is EN 1095a18, which is Grice’s fairy godmother, almost. Cf. Austin on agathon and eudaimonia in Aristotle’s ethics, unearthed by Urmson and Warnock, a response to an essay by Prichard in “Philosophy” on the meaning of agathon in Aristotle’s ethics. Pritchard argues that Aristotle regards “agathon” to mean conducive to “eudaemonia,” and, consequently, that Aristotle maintains that every deliberate action stems, ultimately, from the desire for eudaemonia. Austin finds fault with this. First, agathon in Aristotle does not have a single usage, and a fortiori not the one Pritchard suggests. Second, if one has to summarise the usage of “agathon” in one phrase, “being desired” cannot fulfil this function, for there are other objects of desire besides “τό άγαθόν,” even if Davidson would disagree. Prichard endeavours to specify what Aristotle means by αγαθον. In some contexts, “agathon” seems to mean simply that being desired or an ultimate or non‐ultimate end or aim of a person. In other contexts, “αγαθον” takes on a normative quality. For his statements to have content, argues Prichard, Aristotle must hold that when we pursue something of a certain kind, such as an honour, we pursue it as “a good.” Prichard argues that by "αγαθον" Aristotle actually means, except in the Nicomachean Ethics, conducive to eudaemonia, and holds that when a man acts deliberately, he does it from a desire to attain eudaemonia. Prichard attributes this position to Plato as well, despite the fact that both thinkers make statements inconsistent with this view of man’s ultimate aim. Grice takes life seriously: philosophical biology. He even writes an essay entitled “Philosophy of life,” listed is in PGRICE. Grice bases his thought on his tutee Ackrill’s Dawes Hicks essay for the BA, who quotes extensively from Hardie. Grice also reviews that “serious student of Greek philosophy,” Austin, in his response to Prichard, Grice’s fairy godmother. Much the most plausible conjecture regarding what Grecian eudaimonia means is that eudaemonia is to be understood as the name for that state or condition which one’s good dæmon would, if he could, ensure for one. One’s good dæmon is a being motivated, with respect to one, solely by concern for one’s eudaemonia, well-being or happiness. To change the idiom, eudæmonia is the general characterisation of what a full-time and unhampered fairy godmother would secure for one. Grice is concerned with the specific system of ends that eudaemonia consists for both Kant and Aristotle, or Kantotle for short. Grice borrows, but never returns, some reflections by his fomer tuttee at St. Johns, Ackrill. Ackrills point is about the etymological basis for eudaemonia, from eudaemon, the good dæmon, as Grice prefers. Grice thinks the metaphor should be disimplicated, and taken literally. Grice concludes with a set of ends that justify our ascription of eudaemonia to the agent. For Grice, as for Kantotle, a telos and eudaemonia are related in subtle ways. For eudaemonia we cannot deal with just ONE end, but a system of ends, although such a system may be a singleton. Grice specifies a subtle way of characterising end so that a particular ascription of an end may entail an ascription of eudaemonia. Grice follows the textual criticism of his tutee Ackrill, in connection with the Socratic point that eudaemonia is literally related to the eudaemon. In PGRICE Warner explores Grice’s concept of eudaemonia. Warner is especially helpful with the third difficult Carus lecture by Grice, a metaphysical defence of absolute value. Warner connects with Grice in such topics as the philosophy of perception seen in an evolutionary light and the Kantotelian idea of eudaemonia. In response to Warner’s overview of the oeuvre of Grice for the festschrift that Warner co-edited with Grandy, Grice refers to the editors collectively as Richards. While he feels he has to use “happiness,” Grice is always having Aristotle’s eudaemonia in mind. The implicata of Smith is ‘happy’ are more complex than Kantotle thought. Austen knew! You decide if youre happy! — Emma. Ultimately, for Grice, the rational life is the happy life. Grice took life seriously: philosophical biology! Grice is clear when reprinting the Descartes essay in WOW, where he does quote from Descartes sources quite a bit, even if he implicates he is no Cartesian scholar – what Oxonian would?  ‒: it concerns certainty. And certainty is originally Cantabrigian (Moore), but also Oxonian, in parts. Ayer says that to know is to assure that one is certain or sure. So he could connect. Grice will at various stages of his development play and explore this authoritative voice of introspection: incorrigibility and privileged access. He surely wants to say that a declaration of an intention is authoritative. And Grice plays with meaning, too when provoking Malcolm in a don recollection: Grice: I want you to bring me a paper tomorrow. Strawson: You mean a newspaper? Grice: No, a philosophical essay. Strawson: How do you know? Are you certain you mean that? Grice finds not being certain about what one means Strawsonian and otiose! (Tutees!). Grice loved to place himself in the role of the philosophical hack, dealing with his tutees inabilities, a whole week long – until he could find refreshment in para-philosophy on the Saturday morning. Now, the logical form of certain is a trick. Grice would symbolize it as numbering of operators. If P G ψs p, P G ψs ψs p, and P G ψs ψs ψs p, and so ad infinitum. This is a bit like certainty. But not quite! When he explores trust, Grice considers something like a backing for it. But does conclusive evidence yield certainty? He doesnt think so. Certainty, for Grice should apply to any psychological attitude, state or stance. And it is just clever of him that when he had to deliver his BA lecture he chooses ‘intention and uncertainty’ as its topic, just to provoke. Not surprisingly, the “Uncertainty” piece opens with the sceptics challenge. And he wont conclude that the intender is certain. Only that theres some good chance (p greater than 0.5) that what he intends will get through! When there is a will, there is a way, When there is a neo-Prichardian will-ing, there is a palæo-Griceian way-ing! Perhaps by know Moore means certain. Grice was amused by the fact that Moore thought that he knew that behind the curtains at the lecture hall at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, there was a window, when there wasnt. He uses Moores misuse of know – according to Malcolm – both in Causal theory and Prolegomena. And of course this relates to the topic of the sceptics implicature, above, with the two essays Scepticism and Common sense and Moore and Philosophers Paradoxes repr. partially in Studies. With regard to certainty, it is interesting to compare it, as Grice does, not so much with privileged access, but with incorrigibility. Do we not have privileged access to our own beliefs and desires? And, worse still, may it not be true that at least some of our avowals of our beliefs and desires are incorrigible? One of Grices problems is, as he puts it, how to accommodate privileged access and, maybe, incorrigibility. This or that a second-order state may be, in some fashion, incorrigible. On the contrary, for Grice, this or that lower-order, first-order judging is only a matter for privileged access. Note that while he is happy to allow privileged access to lower-order souly states, only those who are replicated at a higher-order or second-order may, in some fashion, be said to count as an incorrigible avowal. It rains. P judges it rains (privileged access). P judges that P judges that it rains (incorrigible). The justification is conversational. It rains says the P, or expresses the P. Grice wants to be able to say that if a P expresses that p, the P judges₂ that p. If the P expresses that it rains, the P judges that he judges that it rains. In this fashion, his second-order, higher-order judging is incorrigible, only. Although Grice may allow for it to be corrected by a third-order judging. It is not required that we should stick with judging here. Let Smith return the money that he owes to Jones. If P expresses !p, P ψ-s₂ that !p. His second-order, higher-order buletic state is incorrigibile (if ceteris paribus is not corrected by a third-order buletic or doxastic state). His first-order buletic state is a matter only of privileged access. For a study of conversation as rational co-operation this utilitarian revival modifies the standard exegesis of Grice as purely Kantian, and has him more in agreement with the general Oxonian meta-ethical scene. Refs.: Under ‘futilitarianism,’ we cover Grice’s views on ‘pleasure’ (he has an essay on “Pleasure,”) and “eudaemonia” (He has an essaya on ‘happiness’). The main sources are given under ‘grecianism,’ above, since this is the Grecian, Aristotelian side to Grice’s Kantotle, but since there are specific essays on ‘pleasure,’ and ‘eudaimonia,’ the keywords ‘pleasure’ and ‘happiness’ are useful. A good source is the essay on happiness in “Aspects,” which combines ‘eudaemonia’ with ‘agreebleness.’ His futilitarianism turned Kantotelian. BANC.