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Wednesday, July 8, 2020

IMPLICATVRA -- in 18 volumes, vol. X


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

ingarden: a leading phenomenologist, who taught in Lvov and Cracow and became prominent in the English-speaking world above all through his work in aesthetics and philosophy of literature. His Literary Work of Art (German 1931, English 1973) presents an ontological account of the literary work as a stratified structure, including word sounds and meanings, represented objects and aspects, and associated metaphysical and aesthetic qualities. The work forms part of a larger ontological project of combating the transcendental idealism of his teacher Husserl, and seeks to establish the essential difference in structure between minddependent ‘intentional’ objects and objects in reality. Ingarden’s ontological investigations are set out in his The Controversy over the Existence of the World (Polish 1947/48, German 1964–74, partial English translation as Time and Modes of Being, 1964). The work rests on a tripartite division of formal, material, and existential ontology and contains extensive analyses of the ontological structures of individual things, events, processes, states of affairs, properties and relations. It culminates in an attempted refutation of idealism on the basis of an exhaustive account of the possible relations between consciousness and reality.

inscriptum -- inscriptionalism -- nominalism. While Grice pours scorn on the American School of Latter-Day  Nominalists, nominalism, as used by Grice is possibly a misnomer. He doesn’t mean Occam, and Occam did not use ‘nominalismus.’ “Terminimus’ at most. So one has to be careful. The implicaturum is that the nominalist calls a ‘name’ what others shouldn’t.  Mind, Grice had two nominalist friends: S. N. Hamphsire (Scepticism and meaning”) and A. M. Quinton, of the play group! In “Properties and classes,” for the Aristotelian Society. And the best Oxford philosophical stylist, Bradley, is also a nominalist. There are other, more specific arguments against universals. One is that postulating such things leads to a vicious infinite regress. For suppose there are universals, both monadic and relational, and that when an entity instantiates a universal, or a group of entities instantiate a relational universal, they are linked by an instantiation relation. Suppose now that a instantiates the universal F. Since there are many things that instantiate many universals, it is plausible to suppose that instantiation is a relational universal. But if instantiation is a relational universal, when a instantiates FaF and the instantiation relation are linked by an instantiation relation. Call this instantiation relation i2 (and suppose it, as is plausible, to be distinct from the instantiation relation (i1) that links a and F). Then since i2 is also a universal, it looks as if aFi1 and i2 will have to be linked by another instantiation relation i3, and so on ad infinitum. (This argument has its source in Bradley 1893, 27–8.)

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

Swinehead: “I like Swinehead – it sounds almost like Grice!” – Grice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Irigaray: philosopher and psychoanalyst. Her earliest work was in psychoanalysis and linguistics, focusing on the role of negation in the language of schizophrenics (Languages, 1966). A trained analyst with a private practice, she attended Lacan’s seminars at the École Normale Supérieure and for several years taught a course in the psychoanalysis department at Vincennes. With the publication of Speculum, De l’autre femme(Speculum of the Other Woman) in 1974 she was dismissed from Vincennes. She argues that psychoanalysis, specifically its attitude toward women, is historically and culturally determined and that its phallocentric bias is treated as universal truth. With the publication of Speculum and Ce Sexe qui n’en est pas un (This Sex Which Is Not One) in 1977, her work extends beyond psychoanalysis and begins a critical examination of philosophy. Influenced primarily by Hegel, Nietzsche, and Heidegger, her work is a critique of the fundamental categories of philosophical thought: one/many, identity/difference, being/non-being, rational/irrational, mind/body, form/matter, transcendental/sensible. She sets out to show the concealed aspect of metaphysical constructions and what they depend on, namely, the unacknowledged mother. In Speculum, the mirror figures as interpretation and criticism of the enclosure of the Western subject within the mirror’s frame, constituted solely through the masculine imaginary. Her project is one of constituting the world – and not only the specular world – of the other as woman. This engagement with the history of philosophy emphasizes the historical and sexual determinants of philosophical discourse, and insists on bringing the transcendental back to the elements of the earth and embodiment. Her major contribution to philosophy is the notion of sexual difference. An Ethics of Sexual Difference (1984) claims that the central contemporary philosophical task is to think through sexual difference. Although her notion of sexual difference is sometimes taken to be an essentialist view of the feminine, in fact it is an articulation of the difference between the sexes that calls into question an understanding of either the feminine or masculine as possessing a rigid gender identity. Instead, sexual difference is the erotic desire for otherness. Insofar as it is an origin that is continuously differentiating itself from itself, it challenges Aristotle’s understanding of the arche as solid ground or hypokeimenon. As aition or first cause, sexual difference is responsible for something coming into being and is that to which things are indebted for their being. This indebtedness allows Irigaray to formulate an ethics of sexual difference. Her latest work continues to rethink the foundations of ethics. Both Towards a Culture of Difference (1990) and I Love To You (1995) claim that there is no civil identity proper to women and therefore no possibility of equivalent social and political status for men and women. She argues for a legal basis to ground the reciprocity between the sexes; that there is no living universal, that is, a universal that reflects sexual difference; and that this lack of a living universal leads to an absence of rights and responsibilities which reflects both men and women. She claims, therefore, that it is necessary to “sexuate” rights. These latest works continue to make explicit the erotic and ethical project that informs all her work: to think through the dimension of sexual difference that opens up access to the alliances between living beings who are engendered and not fabricated, and who refuse to sacrifice desire for death, power, or money.

iron-age metaphysics: Euclidean geometry, the version of geometry that includes among its axioms the parallel axiom, which asserts that, given a line L in a plane, there exists just one line in the plane that passes through a point not on L but never meets L. The phrase ‘Euclidean geometry’ refers both to the doctrine of geometry to be found in Euclid’s Elements fourth century B.C. and to the mathematical discipline that was built on this basis afterward. In order to present properties of rectilinear and curvilinear curves in the plane and solids in space, Euclid sought definitions, axioms, ethics, divine command Euclidean geometry 290   290 and postulates to ground the reasoning. Some of his assumptions belonged more to the underlying logic than to the geometry itself. Of the specifically geometrical axioms, the least self-evident stated that only one line passes through a point in a plane parallel to a non-coincident line within it, and many efforts were made to prove it from the other axioms. Notable forays were made by G. Saccheri, J. Playfair, and A. M. Legendre, among others, to put forward results logically contradictory to the parallel axiom e.g., that the sum of the angles between the sides of a triangle is greater than 180° and thus standing as candidates for falsehood; however, none of them led to paradox. Nor did logically equivalent axioms such as that the angle sum equals 180° seem to be more or less evident than the axiom itself. The next stages of this line of reasoning led to non-Euclidean geometry. From the point of view of logic and rigor, Euclid was thought to be an apotheosis of certainty in human knowledge; indeed, ‘Euclidean’ was also used to suggest certainty, without any particular concern with geometry. Ironically, investigations undertaken in the late nineteenth century showed that, quite apart from the question of the parallel axiom, Euclid’s system actually depended on more axioms than he had realized, and that filling all the gaps would be a formidable task. Pioneering work done especially by M. Pasch and G. Peano was brought to a climax in 9 by Hilbert, who produced what was hoped to be a complete axiom system. Even then the axiom of continuity had to wait for the second edition! The endeavor had consequences beyond the Euclidean remit; it was an important example of the growth of axiomatization in mathematics as a whole, and it led Hilbert himself to see that questions like the consistency and completeness of a mathematical theory must be asked at another level, which he called metamathematics. It also gave his work a formalist character; he said that his axiomatic talk of points, lines, and planes could be of other objects. Within the Euclidean realm, attention has fallen in recent decades upon “neo-Euclidean” geometries, in which the parallel axiom is upheld but a different metric is proposed. For example, given a planar triangle ABC, the Euclidean distance between A and B is the hypotenuse AB; but the “rectangular distance” AC ! CB also satisfies the properties of a metric, and a geometry working with it is very useful in, e.g., economic geography, as anyone who drives around a city will readily understand.  Grice: "Much the most significant opposition to my type of philosophising comes from those like Baron Russell who feel that ‘ “ordinary-language” philosophy’ is an affront to science and to intellectual progress, and who regard exponents like me as wantonly dedicating themselves to what the Baron calls 'stone-age metaphysics', "The Baron claims that 'stone-age metaphysics' is the best that can be dredged up from a ‘philosophical’ study of an ‘ordinary’ language, such as Oxonian, as it ain't. "The use made of Russell’s phrase ‘stone-age metaphysics’ has more rhetorical appeal than argumentative force."“Certainly ‘stone-age’ *physics*, if by that we mean a 'primitive' (as the Baron puts it -- in contrast to 'iron-age physics') set of hypotheses about how the world goes which might conceivably be embedded somehow or other in an ‘ordinary’ language such as Oxonian, does not seem to be a proper object for first-order devotion -- I'll grant the Baron that!"“But this fact should *not* prevent something derivable or extractable from ‘stone-age’ (if not 'iron-age') *physics*, perhaps some very general characterization of the nature of reality, from being a proper target for serious research.”"I would not be surprised if an extractable characterization of this may not be the same as that which is extractable from, or that which underlies, the Baron's favoured iron-age physics!"

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

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

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

isocrates – Grice: “the chief rival of Plato.” A pupil of Socrates and also of Gorgias, Isocrates founds a play group or club in Athens – vide H. P. Grice, “Athenian dialectic” -- that attracts many aristocrats. Many of Isocrates’s philosophy touches on ‘dialectic.’ “Against the Sophists and On the Antidosis are most important in this respect. “On the antidosis” stands to Isocrates as the “Apology” of Plato stands to Socrates, a defense of Socrates against an attack not on his life, but on his property. The aim of Isocrates’s philosophy is good judgment in practical affairs, and he believes his contribution to Greece through education more valuable than legislation could possibly be. Isocrates repudiates instruction in theoretical (what he called ‘otiose’) philosophy, and insisted on distinguishing his teaching of rhetoric from the sophistry that gives clever speakers an unfair advantage. In politics Isocrates is a Panhellenic patriot, and urges the warring Greek city-states to unite under strong leadership and take arms against the Persian Empire. His most famous work, and the one in which he took the greatest pride, is the “Panegyricus,” a speech in praise of Athens. In general, Isocrates supports democracy in Athens, but toward the end of his life complained bitterly of abuses of the system.

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



Italian: H. P. Grice: “It’s absurd the little Oxonians know about Italy – it’s all about the Grand Tour! The only Oxonian seriously into things Italian, that I know of, are Collingwood, Bosanquet, and the fashionable Hegelians!” “As a response, I propose to lecture on Italian philosophy, with a view to implicature.” Italy over the ages has had a vast influence on Western philosophy, beginning with the Greeks and Romans, and going onto Renaissance humanism, the Age of Enlightenment and modern philosophy. Philosophy is brought to Italy by Pythagoras, founder of the Italian school of philosophy in Crotone. Major Italian philosophers of the Grecian period include: Xenophanes, Parmenides, Zeno, Empedocles, and, lastly, Gorgias, responsible for bringing philosophy to Athens. There are several formidable Roman philosophers, such as: Cicero, Lucretius, Seneca, Musonius Rufus, Plutarch, Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius, Clement of Alexandria, Alcinous, Sextus Empiricus, Alexander of Aphrodisias, Ammonius Saccas, Plotinus, Porphyry, Iamblichus, Themistius, Augustine of Hippo, Proclus, Philoponus of Alexandria, Damascius, Boethius, and Simplicius of Cilicia. Roman philosophy is heavily influenced by that of Greece. Italian mediaeval philosophy is mainly Christian, and includes several important philosophers and theologians such as Thomas Aquinas. Aquinas is a student of Albert the Great, a brilliant Dominican experimentalist, much like the Franciscan Roger Bacon of Oxford. Aquinas reintroduces Aristotelian philosophy to Christianity. Aquinas believes that there is no contradiction between faith and secular reason. Aquinas believes that Aristotle achieves the pinnacle in the human striving for truth, and thus adopts Aristotle's philosophy as a framework in constructing his theological and philosophical outlook. Aquinas is a professor at the prestigious University of Paris. The Renaissance is an essentially Italian (Florentine) movement, and also a great period of the arts and philosophy. Among the distinctive elements of Renaissance philosophy are: — the revival (renaissance means "rebirth") of classical civilisation and learning. — a partial return to the authority of Plato over Aristotle, who had come to dominate later medieval philosophy; and — among some philosophers, enthusiasm for the occult and Hermeticism. As with all periods, there is a wide drift of dates, reasons for categorization and boundaries. In particular, the Renaissance, more than later periods, is thought to begin in Italy with the Italian Renaissance and roll through Europe. Renaissance Humanism was a European intellectual movement that was a crucial component of the Renaissance, beginning in Florence, and affected most of Italy. The humanist movement develops from the rediscovery by European scholars of Latin literary and Greek literary texts. Initially, a humanist was simply a scholar or teacher of Latin literature. Humanism describes a curriculum – the “studia humanitatis” – consisting of grammar, rhetoric, moral philosophy, poetry, and history, as studied via Latin and Greek literary authors. Humanism offers the necessary intellectual and philological tools for the first critical analysis of texts. An early triumph of textual criticism by Lorenzo Valla reveals the Donation of Constantine to be an early medieval forgery produced in the Curia. This textual criticism creates sharper controversy when Erasmus follows Valla in criticising the accuracy of the Vulgate translation of the New Testament, and promoting readings from the original Greek manuscripts of the New Testament. Italian Renaissance humanists believe that the liberal arts (art, music, grammar, rhetoric, oratory, history, poetry, using classical texts, and the studies of all of the above) should be practiced by all levels of "richness". Italian humanists also approve of self, human worth and individual dignity. Italian humanists hold the belief that everything in life has a determinate nature, but man's privilege is to be able to choose his own path. Pico della Mirandola writes the following concerning the creation of the universe and man's place in it: “But when the work was finished, the Craftsman kept wishing that there were someone to ponder the plan of so great a work, to love its beauty, and to wonder at its vastness.” “Therefore, when everything was done, He finally took thought concerning the creation of man.” “He therefore took man as a creature of indeterminate nature and, assigning him a place in the middle of the world, addressed him thus.” “”Neither a fixed abode nor a form that is thine alone nor any function peculiar to thyself have we given thee, Adam, to the end that according to thy longing and according to thy judgement thou mayest have and possess what abode, what form and what functions thou thyself shalt desire.”” “”The nature of all other beings is limited and constrained within the bounds of law.”” “”Thou shalt have the power to degenerate into the lower forms of life, which are brutish.”” “”Thou shalt have the power, out of thy soul's judgement, to be born into the higher forms, which are divine."” Italy is also affected by a movement called Neoplatonism, which is a movement which had a general revival of interest in Classical antiquity. Interest in Platonism is especially strong in Florence under the Medici. During the sessions at Florence of the Council of Ferrara-Florence, during the failed attempts to heal the schism of the Orthodox and Catholic churches, Cosimo de' Medici and his intellectual circle make acquaintance with the Neoplatonic philosopher George Gemistos Plethon. Plethon’s discourses upon Plato and the Alexandrian mystics so fascinate the learned society of Florence that they name him the second Plato. John Argyropoulos is lecturing on Greek language and literature at Florence, and Marsilio Ficino becomes his pupil. When Cosimo de’ Medici decides to refound Plato's Academy at Florence, his choice to head it is Ficino, who makes the classic translation of Plato from Greek to Latin, as well as a translation of a collection of Hellenistic Greek documents of the Hermetic Corpus, and the writings of many of the Neoplatonists, for example Porphyry, Iamblichus, Plotinus, et al.. Following suggestions laid out by Gemistos Plethon, Ficino tries to synthesize Christianity and Platonism. Niccolò di Bernardo dei Machiavelli is an Italian philosopher, and is considered one of the most influential Italian Renaissance philosophers and one of the main founders of modern political science. Machiavelli’s most famous work is “The Prince.” “The Prince”’s contribution to the history of political thought is the fundamental break between political realism and political idealism. Machiavelli’s best-known essay exposits and describes the arts with which a ruling prince can maintain control of his realm. The essay concentrates on the "new prince", under the presumption that a hereditary prince has an easier task in ruling, since the people are accustomed to him. To retain power, the hereditary prince must carefully maintain the socio-political institutions to which the people are accustomed; whereas a new prince has the more difficult task in ruling, since he must first stabilize his new-found power in order to build an enduring political structure. That requires the prince being a public figure above reproach, whilst privately acting immorally to maintain his state. The examples are those princes who most successfully obtain and maintain power, drawn from Machiavelli’s observations as a Florentine diplomat, and his ancient history readings; thus, the Latin phrases and Classic examples. “The Prince” politically defines “virtu” as any quality that helps a prince rule his state effectively. Machiavelli is aware of the irony of good results coming from evil actions, and because of this, the Catholic Church proscribes “The Prince,” registering it to the “Index Librorum Prohibitorum,” moreover, the Humanists also viewed the essay negatively, among them, Erasmus of Rotterdam. As a treatise, the primary intellectual contribution of Machiavelli’s “Prince” to the history of political thought is the fundamental break between political Realism and political Idealism — thus, “The Prince” is a manual to acquiring and keeping political power. In contrast with Plato and Aristotle, a Classical ideal society is not the aim of the prince’s will to power. As a political philosopher, Machiavelli emphasises necessary, methodical exercise of brute force and deception to preserve the status quo. Between Machiavelli's advice to ruthless and tyrannical princes in “The Prince” and his more republican exhortations in “Discorsi,” some conclude that “The Prince” is actually only a satire. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, for instance, admires Machiavelli the republican and, consequently, argues that “The Prince” is an essay for the republicans as it exposes the methods used by princes. If “The Prince” is only intended as a manual for tyrannical rulers, it contains a paradox: It is apparently more effective if the secrets “The Prince” contains would *not* be made publicly available. Also Antonio Gramsci argues that Machiavelli's audience is the common people because the rulers already know these methods through their education. This interpretation is supported by the fact that Machiavelli writes in the vernacular, Italian, not in Latin (which would have been the language of the ruling elite). Although Machiavelli is supposed to be a realist, many of his heroes in “The Prince” are in fact mythical or semi-mythical, and his goal (i.e. the unification of Italy) essentially utopian at the time of writing. Many of Machiavelli’s contemporaries associate him with the political tracts offering the idea of “Reason of State”, an idea proposed most notably in the writings of Jean Bodin and Giovanni Botero. To this day, contemporary usage of “Machiavellian” is an adjective describing someone who is "marked by cunning, duplicty, or bad faith.” “The Prince” is the treatise that is most responsible for the term being brought about. To this day, "Machiavellian" remains a popular term used in casual and political contexts, while in psychology, "Machiavellianism" denotes a personality type. Cesare Beccaria is one of the greatest writers of the Italian Age of Enlightenment. Italy is also affected by the enlightenment, a movement which is a consequence of the Renaissance and changes the road of Italian philosophy. Followers of the group often meet to discuss in private salons and coffeehouses, notably in the cities of Milan, Rome and Venice. Cities with important universities such as Padua, Bologna and Naples, however, also remain great centres of scholarship and the intellect, with several philosophers, such as Giambattista Vico (who is widely regarded as being the founder of modern Italian philosophy) and Antonio Genovesi. Italian society also dramatically changes during the Enlightenment, with rulers such as Leopold II of Tuscany abolishing the death penalty. The church's power is significantly reduced, and it is a period of great thought and invention, with scientists such as Alessandro Volta and Luigi Galvani discovering new things and greatly contributing to Western science. Beccaria is also one of the greatest Italian Enlightenment writers, who is famous for his masterpiece “Of Crimes and Punishments.” Italy also has a renowned philosophical movement with Idealism, Sensism and Empiricism. The main Sensist Italian philosophers are Gioja and Romagnosi. Criticism of the Sensist movement comes from other philosophers such as Pasquale Galluppi, who affirms that a priori relationships are synthetic. Antonio Rosmini, instead, is the founder of Italian Idealism. The most comprehensive view of Rosmini's philosophical standpoint is to be found in his “Sistema filosofico,” in which he sets forth the conception of a complete encyclopaedia of the human knowable, synthetically conjoined, according to the order of ideas, in a perfectly harmonious whole. Contemplating the position of recent philosophy from Locke to Hegel, and having his eye directed to the ancient and fundamental problem of the origin, truth and certainty of our ideas, Rosmini writes: “If philosophy is to be restored to love and respect, I think it will be necessary, in part, to return to the teachings of the ancients, and in part to give those teachings the benefit of modern methods.” — Theodicy, a. 148. Rosmini examines and analyses the fact of human knowledge, and obtains the following results: — the notion or idea of being or existence in general enters into, and is presupposed by, all our acquired cognitions, so that, without it, they would be impossible. — this idea is essentially objective, inasmuch as what is seen in it is as distinct from and opposed to the mind that sees it as the light is from the eye that looks at it. — the idea is essentially true, because being and truth are convertible terms, and because in the vision of it the mind cannot err, since error could only be committed by a judgment, and here there is no judgment, but a pure intuition affirming nothing and denying nothing. — by the application of this essentially objective and true idea the human being intellectually perceives, first, the animal body individually conjoined with him, and then, on occasion of the sensations produced in him not by himself, the causes of those sensations, that is, from the action felt he perceives and affirms an agent, a being, and therefore a true thing, that acts on him, and he thus gets at the external world, these are the true primitive judgments, containing the subsistence of the particular being (subject), and its essence or species as determined by the quality of the action felt from it (predicate) — reflection, by separating the essence or species from the subsistence, obtains the full specific idea (universalization), and then from this, by leaving aside some of its elements, the abstract specific idea (abstraction). — the mind, having reached this stage of development, can proceed to further and further abstracts, including the first principles of reasoning, the principles of the several sciences, complex ideas, groups of ideas, and so on without end, and, finally, — the same most universal idea of being, this generator and formal element of all acquired cognitions, cannot itself be acquired, but must be innate in us, implanted by God in our nature. Being, as naturally shining to our mind, must therefore be what men call the light of reason. Hence the name Rosmini gives it of ideal being; and this he lays down as the fundamental principle of all philosophy and the supreme criterion of truth and certainty. This Rosmini believes to be the teaching of St Augustine, as well as of St Thomas, of whom he was an ardent admirer and defender. In the 19th century, there are also several other movements which gain some form of popularity in Italy, such as Ontologism. The main Italian son of this philosophical movement is Vincenzo Gioberti, a metaphysician. Gioberti's writings are more important than his political career. In the history of Italian philosophy they stand apart. As the speculations of Rosmini-Serbati, against which he wrote, have been called the last link added to medieval thought, so the system of Gioberti, known as Ontologism, more especially in his greater and earlier works, is unrelated to other modern schools of thought. It shows a harmony with the Roman Catholic faith which caused Cousin to declare that Italian philosophy was still in the bonds of theology, and that Gioberti was no philosopher. Method is with Gioberti a synthetic, subjective and psychological instrument. Gioberti reconstructs, as he declares, ontology, and begins with the ideal formula, the "Ens" creates ex nihilo the existent. God is the only being (Ens). All other things are merely existences. God is the origin of all human knowledge (called lidea, thought), which is one and so to say identical with God himself. It is directly beheld (intuited) by reason, but in order to be of use it has to be reflected on, and this by means of language. A knowledge of being and existences (concrete, not abstract) and their mutual relations, is necessary as the beginning of philosophy. Gioberti is in some respects a Platonist. Gioberti identifies religion with civilization, and in his treatise “Del primato morale e civile degli Italiani” he arrives at the conclusion that the church is the axis on which the well-being of human life revolves. In it Gioberti affirms the idea of the supremacy of Italy, brought about by the restoration of the papacy as a moral dominion, founded on religion and public opinion. In his later works, the “Rinnovamento” and the “Protologia,” Gioberti is thought by some to have shifted his ground under the influence of events. Gioberti’s first work had a personal reason for its existence. A fellow-exile and friend, Paolo Pallia, having many doubts and misgivings as to the reality of revelation and a future life, Gioberti at once set to work with “La Teorica del sovrannaturale,” which was his first publication. After this, philosophical treatises follow in rapid succession. The “Teorica” is followed by “Introduzione allo studio della filosofia.” In this work Gioberti states his reasons for requiring a new method and new terminology. Here Gioberti brings out the doctrine that religion is the direct expression of the idea in this life, and is one with true civilization in history. Civilization is a conditioned mediate tendency to perfection, to which religion is the final completion if carried out. It is the end of the second cycle expressed by the second formula, the Ens redeems existences. Essays on the lighter and more popular subjects, “Del bello” and “Del buono,” follow the “Introduzione.” “Del primato morale e civile degli Italiani” and the “Prolegomeni” to the same, and soon afterwards his triumphant exposure of the Jesuits, “Il Gesuita moderno,” no doubt hastens the transfer of rule from clerical to civil hands. It is the popularity of these semi-political works, increased by other occasional political articles, and his “Rinnovamento civile d'Italia,” that causes Gioberti to be welcomed with such enthusiasm on his return to his native country. All these works are perfectly orthodox, and aid in drawing the liberal clergy into the movement which results since his time in the unification of Italy. The Jesuits, however, closed round the pope more firmly after his return to Rome, and in the end Gioberti's writings are placed on the Index. The remainder of his works, especially “La Filosofia della Rivelazione” and the “Prolologia,” give his mature views on many points. Other Ontological philosophers include Terenzio Mamiani, Luigi Ferri, and Ausonio Franchi. Augusto Vera is probably the greatest Italian Hegelianist philosopher. It is during his studies, with his cousin in Paris, that Vera comes to know about philosophy and through them he acquires knowledge of Hegelianism and it culminates during the events of the French Revolution. In England Vera continues his studies of Hegelian philosophy. During his years in Naples, Vera maintains relationships with the Philosophical Society of Berlin, which originally consists of Hegelians, and keeps up to date with both the German and the French Hegelian literature. Vera undertakes a close commentary of Hegel's “Introduzione alla filosofia.” Much of Vera’s work on neo-Hegelian theories are undertaken with Bertrando Spaventa. Some see the Italian Hegelian doctrine as leading to Italian Fascism. Some of the most prominent philosophies and ideologies in Italy also include anarchism, communism, socialism, futurism, fascism, and Christian democracy. Both futurism and fascism (in its original form, now often distinguished as Italian fascism) are developed in Italy at this time. Italian Fascism is the official philosophy and ideology of the Italian government. Giovanni Gentile is one of the greatest Italian Idealist/Fascist philosophers, who greatly supports Benito Mussolini. Gentile has a great number of developments within his thought and career which define his philosophy: — the discovery of Actual Idealism in his work “Theory of the Pure Act” — the political favour he felt for the invasion of Libya and the entry of Italy into The Great War. — the dispute with Benedetto Croce over the historic inevitability of Fascism. — his role as education minister. — Gentile’s belief that Fascism can be made to be subservient to his thought and the gathering of influence through the work of such students as Ugo Spirito. Benedetto Croce writes that Gentile "holds the honour of being the most rigorous neo–Hegelian in the entire history of Western philosophy and the dishonour of being the official philosopher of Fascism in Italy." Gentile’s philosophical basis for fascism is rooted in his understanding of ontology and epistemology, in which he finds vindication for the rejection of individualism, acceptance of collectivism, with the state as the ultimate location of authority and loyalty to which the individual found in the conception of individuality no meaning outside of the state (which in turn justifies totalitarianism). Ultimately, Gentile foresees a social order wherein opposites of all kinds are not to be given sanction as existing independently from each other; that 'publicness' and 'privateness' as broad interpretations were currently false as imposed by all former kinds of Government; capitalism, communism, and that only the reciprocal totalitarian state of Corporative Syndicalism, a Fascist state, could defeat these problems made from reifying as an external that which is in fact to Gentile only a thinking reality. Whereas it was common in the philosophy of the time to see conditional subject as abstract and object as concrete, Gentile postulates the opposite, that subject is the concrete and objectification is abstraction (or rather; that what was conventionally dubbed "subject" is in fact only conditional object, and that true subject is the 'act of' being or essence above any object). Gentile is a notable philosophical theorist of his time throughout Europe, since having developed his 'Actual Idealism' system of Idealism, sometimes called 'Actualism.' It is especially in which his ideas put subject to the position of a transcending truth above positivism that garnered attention; by way that all senses about the world only take the form of ideas within one's mind in any real sense; to Gentile even the analogy between the function and location of the physical brain with the functions of the physical body were a consistent creation of the mind (and not brain; which was a creation of the mind and not the other way around). An example of Actual Idealism in Theology is the idea that although man may have invented the concept of God, it does not make God any less real in any sense possible as far as it is not presupposed to exist as abstraction and except in case qualities about what existence actually entails (i.e. being invented apart from the thinking making it) are presupposed. Benedetto Croce objects that Gentile's "pure act" is nothing other than Schopenhauer's will. Therefore, Gentile proposes a form of what he calls 'absolute Immanentism' in which the divine is the present conception of reality in the totality of one's individual thinking as an evolving, growing and dynamic process. Many times accused of Solipsism, Gentile maintains his philosophy to be a Humanism that senses the possibility of nothing beyond what was contingent; the self's human thinking, in order to communicate as immanence is to be human like oneself, makes a cohesive empathy of the self-same, without an external division, and therefore not modeled as objects to one's own thinking. Meanwhile, anarchism, communism, and socialism, though not originating in Italy, take significant hold in Italy with the country producing numerous significant figures in anarchist, socialist, and communist thought. In addition, anarcho-communism first fully forms into its modern strain within the Italian section of the First International. Italian anarchists often adhere to forms of anarcho-communism, illegalist or insurrectionary anarchism, collectivist anarchism, anarcho-syndicalism, and platformism. Some of the most important figures in the anarchist movement include Italians such as: Errico Malatesta, Giuseppe Fanelli, Carlo Cafiero, Alfredo M. Bonanno, Pietro Gori, Luigi Galleani, Severino Di Giovanni, Giuseppe Ciancabilla, Luigi Fabbri, Camillo Berneri, and Sacco and Vanzetti. Other Italian figures, influential in both the anarchist and socialist movements, include Carlo Tresca and Andrea Costa, as well as the author, director, and intellectual Pier Paolo Pasolini. Antonio Gramsci remains an important philosopher within Marxist and communist theory, credited with creating the theory of cultural hegemony. Italian philosophers are also influential in the development of the non-Marxist liberal socialism philosophy, including: Carlo Rosselli, Norberto Bobbio, Piero Gobetti, Aldo Capitini, and Guido Calogero. Many Italian left-wing activists adopt the anti-authoritarian pro-working class leftist theories that become known as autonomism and “operaismo.” Giuseppe Peano is one of the founders of analytic philosophy and contemporary philosophy of mathematics. Recent analytic philosophers include: Mauro Dorato, Carlo Penco, Francesco Berto, Emiliano Boccardi, Alessandro Torza, Matteo Plebiani, Luciano Floridi, Luca Moretti, and, among the Griceians, Anna Maria Ghersi and Luigi Speranza. See also: List of Italian philosophers References: See: Jerry Bentley, “Humanists and holy writ” Princeton University Pico Yates, Frances A. “Giordano Bruno and the Hermetic Tradition” University of Chicago Press Moschovitis Group Inc, Christian D. Von Dehsen and Scott L. Harris, “Philosophers and religious leaders,” The Oryx Press, 117. Definition of MACHIAVELLIAN merriam-webster Skinner, Quentin “Machiavelli: A Very Short Introduction.” OUP Oxford. Christie, Richard; Geis, Florence L. “Studies in Machiavellianism.” Academic Press. “The Enlightenment throughout Europe"history-world “History of Philosophy 70". Maritain “Augusto Vera". Facoltà Lettere e Filosofia “La rinascita hegeliana a Napoli" Ex-Regno delle Due Sicilie. “L'ESCATOLOGIA PITAGORICA NELLA TRADIZIONE OCCIDENTALE". RITO SIMBOLICO ITALIANO. “Idealismo. Idealistas" Enciclopedia GER. Benedetto Croce, “Guide to Aesthetics,” Tr. by Patrick Romanell, "Translator's Introduction," The Library of Liberal Arts, The Bobbs–Merrill Co., Inc. Runes, Dagobert, ed., Treasure of Philosophy,” “Gentile, Giovanni" Nunzio Pernicone, "Italian Anarchism", AK Press. RELATED ARTICLES: Giovanni Gentile, Italian neo-Hegelian Idealist philosopher. Bertrando Spaventa, Italian philosopher. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Hegelians and Croceans in the Oxford I knew.” Grice, “Speranza, our man in Itealian philosophy!” – “Surely he’ll be offended if you say that!” – Anna Maria Ghersi e Luigi Speranza, “IMPLICATVRA.” Luigi Speranza, “IMPLICATVRA,” The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia.

Società filosofia italiana

eredità – when a symposium on Grice was organised at San Marino, this is the word chosen – Eredità. Oddly, Berkeley preferred ‘legacy,’ as in “Legacy of Grice.” “Heritage” sounds perhaps more pretentious than “l’eredità di Grice,’ where there is a pun on ‘heritage’ and ‘inheritance’! --.

descriptum – definite (“the”) and “indefinite” (“some at least one”). Analysed by Grice in terms of /\x. “The king of France is bald” There is at least a king of France, there is at most a king of France, and anything that is a king of France is bald. For indefinite descriptum he holds the equivalence with \/x, “some (at least one). – Grice follows Peano in finding the ‘iota’ operator a good abbreviatory device to avoid the boring ‘Russellian expansion.” “We should forgive Russell – his background was mathematics not the belles letters as with Bradley and me, and anyone at Oxford, really.” – Grice.  iota – iota operator used by Grice. Peano uses iota as short for “isos,” Grecian for ‘Same”. Peano defines “ix” as “the class of whatever is the same as x”. Peano then looked for a symbol for the inverse for this. He first uses a negated iota, and then an inverted iota, so that inverted iota x reads “the sole [unique] member of x” “ι” read as “the” -- s the inverted iota or description operator and is used in expressions for definite descriptions, such as “(ιx)ϕx(ιx)ϕx,” which is read: the x such that ϕxϕx). [(ιx)ϕx(ιx)ϕx] -- a definite description in brackets. This is a scope indicator for definite descriptions. The topic of ‘description’ is crucial for Grice, and he regrets Russell focused on the definite rather than the indefinite descriptor. As a matter of fact, while Grice follows the custom of referring to the “Russellian expansion” of iota, he knows it’s ultimately the “Peanoian” expansion. Indeed, Peano uses the non-inverted iota “i” for the unit class. For the ONLY or UNIQUE member of this class, i. e. the definite article “the,” Peano uses the inverted iota (cf. *THE* Twelve Apostles). (On occasion Peano uses the denied iota for that).  Peano’s approach to ‘the’ evolve in at least three stages towards a greater precision in the treatment of the description, both definite and indefinite. Peano introducesin 1897  the fundamental definition of the unit class as the class such that ALL of its members are IDENTICAL. In Peanoian symbols, ix = ye (y = x). Peano approaches the UNIQUE OR ONLY member of such a class, by way of an indirect definition: “x = ia • = • a = ix.” Regarding the analysis of the definite article “the,” Peano makes the crucial point that every ‘proposition’ or ‘sentence’ containing “the” (“The apostles were twelve”) can be offered a reductive AND REDUCTIONIST analysis, first, to. the for,? ia E b, and, second, to the inclusion of the class in the class (a b), which already supposes the elimination of “i.” Peano notes he can avoid an identity whose first member contains “I” (1897:215). One difference between Peano’s and Russell's treatment of classes in the context of the theory of description is that, while, for Peano, a description combines a class abstract with the inverse of the unit class operator, Russell restricts the free use of a class abstract due the risk of paradox generation. For Peano, it is necessary that there EXIST the class (‘apostle’), and he uses for this the symbol ‘I,’ which indicates that the class is not vacuous, void, or empty, and that it have a unique member, the set of twelve apostles. If either of these two conditions – existence and uniqueness -- are not met, the symbol is meaningless, or pointless. Peano offers various instances for handling the symbol of the inverted iota, and the way in which -- starting from that ‘indirect’ or implicit definition, it can be eliminated altogether. One example is of particular interest, as it states a link between the reductionist analysis of the inverted iota and the problem of what Peano calls ‘doubtful’ existence (rather than vacuous, void, or empty). Peano starts by defining the superlative ‘THE greatEST number of a class of real numbers’ as ‘THE number n such that there is no number of this class being greater than n.’ Peano warns that one should not infer from this definition the ‘existence’ of the aforementioned greatEST number. Grice does not quite consider this in the ‘definite description’ section of “Vacuous name” but gives a similar example: “The climber on hands and knees of Mt. Everest does not exist. He was invented by the journalists.” And in other cases where there is a NON-IDENTIFICATORY use of ‘the’, which Grice symbolises as ‘the,’ rather than ‘THE’: “The butler certainly made a mess with our hats and coats – whoever he is --.” As it happens Strawson mistook the haberdasher to be the butler. So that Strawson is MIS-IDENTIFYING the denotatum as being ‘the butler’ when it is ‘the haberdasher.’ The butler doesn’t really exist. Smith dressed the haberdasher as a butler and made him act as one just to impress. Similarly, as per Russell’s ‘Prince George soon found out that ‘the author of Waverley’ did not exist,” (variant of his example). Similarly, Peano proves that we can speak legitimately of “THE GREATEST real number” even if we have doubts it ‘exists. He just tweaks the original definition to obtain a different expression where “I” is dropped out. For Peano, then, the reductionist analysis of the definite article “the” is feasible and indeed advisable for a case of ‘doubtful’ existence. Grice does not consider ‘doubtful’ but he may. “The climber on hands and knees of Mt Everest may, but then again may not, attend the party the Merseyside Geographical Society is giving in his honour. He will attend if he exists; he will not attend if he doesn’t.” Initially, Peano thinks “I” need not be equivalent to, in the sense of systematically replaced by, the two clauses (indeed three) in the expansion which are supposed to give the import of ‘the,’ viz. existence and uniqueness (subdivided in ‘at least’ and ‘at most’). His reductionism proves later to be absolute. He starts from the definition in terms of the unit class. He goes on to add a series of "possible" definitions -- allowing for alternative logical orders. One of this alternative definitions is stipulated to be a strict equivalence, about which he had previously been sceptical. Peano asserts that the only unque individual belongs to a unit.  Peano does not put it in so many words that this expression is meaningless. In the French translation, what he said is Gallic: “Nous ne donnons pas de signification a ce symbole si la classe a est nulle, ou si elle contient plusieurs individus.” “We don’t give signification to this symbol IF the class is void, or if the class contains more than one individual.” – where we can see that he used ‘iota’ to represent ‘individus,’ from Latin ‘individuum,’ translating Greek ‘a-tomos.’ So it is not meant to stand for Greek ‘idion,’ as in ‘idiosyncratic.’ But why did he choose the iota, which is a Grecian letter. Idion is in the air (if not ‘idiot.’). Thus, one may take the equivalence in practice, given that if the three conditions in the expansion are met, the symbol cannot be used at all. There are other ways of providing a reductionist analysis of the same symbols according to Peano, e. g., laE b. = : a = tx. :Jx • Xc b class (a) such that it belongs to another class (b) is equal to the EXISTENCE of exactly one (at least one and at most one) idiosyncratic individual or element such that this idiosyncratic individual is a member of that class (b), i. e. "the only or unique (the one member) member of a belongs to b" is to be held equivalent to ‘There is at least one x such that, first, the unit class a is equal to the class constituted by x, and, second, x belongs to b.’ Or, ‘The class of x such that a is the class constituted by x, and that x belongs to b, is not an empty class, and that it have a unique member.” This is exactly Russell's tri-partite expansion referred to Russell (‘on whom Grice heaped all the praise,’ to echo Quine). Grice was not interested in history, only in rebutting Strawson. Of course, Peano provides his conceptualisations in terms of ‘class’ rather than, as Russell, Sluga [or ‘Shuga,’ as Cole reprints him] and Grice do, in terms of the ‘propositional function,’ i. e.  Peano reduces ‘the’ in terms of a property or a predicate, which defins a class. Peano reads the membership symbol as "is,” which opens a new can of worms for Grice: “izzing” – and flies out of the fly bottle. Peano is well aware of the importance of his device to eliminate the definite article “the” to more ‘primitive’ terms. That is why Peano qualifies his definition as an "expriment la P[proposition] 1 a E b sous une autre forme, OU ne figure plus le signe i; puisque toute P contenant le signe i a est REDUCTIBLE ala forme ia E b, OU best une CIs, on pourra ELIMINER le signe i dans toute P.” The once received view that the symbol "i" is for Peano undefinable and primitive has now been corrected.  Before making more explicit the parallelism with Whitehead’s and Russell's and Grice’s theory of description (vide Quine, “Reply to H. P. Grice”) we may consider a few potential problems. First, while it is true that the symbol ‘i’ has been given a ‘reductionist analysis’, in the definiens we still see the symbol of the unit class, which would refer somehow to the idea that is symbolized by ''ix’. Is this a sign of circularity, and evidence that the descriptor has not been eliminated? For Peano, there are at least two ways of defining a symbol of the unit class without using ‘iota’ – straight, inverted, or negated. One way is directly replacing ix by its value: y 3(y = x). We have: la E b • =: 3x 3{a =y 3(y =x) • X E b},  which expresses the same idea in a way where a reference to iota has disappeared. We can read now "the only member of a belongs to b" as "there is at least one x such that (i) the unit class a is equal to all the y such that y =x, and (ii) x belongs to b" (or "the class of x such that they constitute the class of y, and that they constitute the class a, and that in addition they belong to the class b, is not an empty class"). The complete elimination underlies the mentioned definition. Peano is just not interested in making the point explicit. A second way is subtler. By pointing out that, in the "hypothesis" preceding the quoted definition, it is clearly stated that the class "a" is defined as the unit class in terms of the existence and identity of all of their members (i.e. uniqueness): a E Cis. 3a: x, yEa. X = y: bE CIs • : This is why "a" is equal to the expression ''tx'' (in the second member). One may still object that since "a" can be read as "the unit class", Peano does not quite provide a ‘reductionist’ analysis as it is shown through the occurrence of these words in some of the readings proposed above. However, the hypothesis preceding the definition only states that the meaning of the symbols which are used in the second member is to be. Thus, "a" is stated as "an existing unit class", which has to be understood in the following way: 'a' stands for a non-empty class that all of its members are identical. We can thus can "a", wherever it occurs, by its meaning, given that this interpretation works as only a purely ‘nominal’ definition, i.e. a convenient abbreviation. However, the actual substitution would lead us to rather complicated prolixic expressions that would infringe Grice’s desideratum of conversational clarity. Peano's usual way of working can be odd. Starting from this idea, we can interpret the definition as stating that "ia Eb" is an abbreviation of the definiens and dispensing with the conditions stating existence and uniqueness in the hypothesis, which have been incorporated to their new place. The hypothesis  contains only the statement of "a" and" b" as being classes, and the definition amounts to: a, bECls.::J :. ME b. =:3XE([{3aE[w, zEa. ::Jw•z' w= z]} ={ye (y= x)}] • XE b). Peano’s way is characterized as the constant search for SHORTER, briefer, and more conveniente expressions – which is Grice’s solution to Strawson’s misconception – there is a principle of conversational tailoring. It is quite understandable that Peano prefers to avoid long expansions. The important thing is not the intuitive and superficial similarity between the symbols "ia" and ''ix'', caused simply by the appearance of the Greek letter iota in both cases, or the intuitive meaning of  "the unit class.” What is key are the conditions under which these expressions have been introduced in Peano’s system, which are completely clear and quite explicit in the first definition. It may still be objected that Peano’s elimination of ‘the’ is a failure in that it derives from Peano's confusion between class membership and class inclusion -- a singleton class would be its sole member – but these are not clearly distinct notions. It follows that (iii) "a" is both a class and, according to the interpretation of the definition, an individual (iv), as is shown by joining the hypothesis preceding the definition and the definition itself. The objection derives from the received view on Peano, according to which his logic is, compared to Whitehead’s and Russell’s, not strict or formal enough, but also contains some important confusions here and there.  And certainly Russell would be more than happy to correct a minor point. Russell always thinks of Peano and his school as being strangely free of confusions or mistakes. It may be said that Peano indeed ‘confuses’ membership with inclusion (cf. Grice ‘not confused, but mistaken’) given that it was he himself who, predating Frege, introduces the distinction with the symbol "e.” If the objection amounts to Peano admitting that the symbol for membership holds between class A and class B, it is true that this is the case when Peano uses it to indicate the meaning of some symbols, but only through the reading of "is,” which could be" 'a and b being classes, "the only member of a belongs to b,” to be the same as "there is at least one x such that (i) 'there is at least one a such that for ,': and z belonging to a,. w = z' is equal to y such that y =. x' , and (ii) x belongs to b ,where both the iota and the unit class are eliminated in the definiens. There is a similar apparent vicious circularity in Frege's definition of number. "k e K" as "k is a class"; see also the hypothesis from above for another example).  This by no means involves confusion, and is shown by the fact that Peano soon adds four definite properties distinguishing precisely both class inclusion and class membership,, which has Russell himself preserving the useful and convenient reading.  "ia" does not stand for the singleton class. Peano states pretty clearly that" 1" (T)  makes sense only when applied to this or that individual, and ''t'' as applied to this or that class, no matter what symbols is used for these notions. Thus, ''ta'', like "tx" have to be read as "the class constituted by ...", and" la" as "the only member of a". Thus, although Peano never uses "ix" (because he is thinking in terms of this or that class), had he done so its meaning, of course, would have been exactly the same as "la", with no confusion at all. "a" stands for a class because it is so stated in the hypothesis, although it can represent an individual when preceded by the descriptor, and together with it, i.e. when both constitute a new symbol as a. Peano's habit is better understood by interpreting what he is saying it in terms of a propositional function, and then by seeing" la" as being somewhat similar to x, no matter what reasons of convenience led him to prefer symbols generally used for classes ("a" instead of"x"). There is little doubt that this makes the world of a difference for Russell and Sluga (or Shuga) but not Strawson or Grice, or Quine (“I’m sad all the praise was heaped by Grice on Russell, not Peano”). For Peano the inverted iota is the symbol for an operator on a class, it leads us to a different ‘concept’ when it flanks a term, and this is precisely the point Shuga (or Sluga) makes to Grice – ‘Presupposition and conversational implicaturum” – the reference to Shuga was omitted in the reprint in Way of Words). In contrast, for Russell, the iota operator is only a part of what Whitehead and Russell call an ‘incomplete’ symbol. In fact, Grice borrows the complete-incomplete distinction from Whitehead and Russell. For Peano, the descriptor can obviously be given a reductionist eliminationist analysis only in conjunction with the rest of the ‘complete’ symbol, "ia e b.’ Whitehead’s and Russell’s point, again, seems drawn from Peano. And there is no problem when we join the original hypothesis with the definition, “a eCis. 3a: x, yea. -::Jx,y. x =y: be CIs • :. . la e b. =: 3x 3(a =tx. x e b). If it falls within the scope of the quantifier in the hypothesis, “a” is a variable which occurs both free and bound in the formula – And it has to be a variable, since qua constant, no quantifier is needed. It is not clear what Peano’s position would have been. Admittedly, Peano – living always in a rush in Paris -- does not always display the highest standards of Oxonian clarity between the several uses of, say, "existence" involved in his various uses of this or that quantifier. In principle, there would be no problem when a variable appears both bound and free in the same expression. And this is so because the variable appears bound in one occurrence and free in another. And one cannot see how this could affect the main claim. The point Grice is making here (which he owes to ‘Shuga’) is to recognise the fundamental similarities in the reductionist analysis of “the” in Peano and Russell. It is true that Russell objects to an ‘implicit’ or indirect definition under a hypothesis. He would thus have rejected the Peanoian reductionist analysis of “the.” However, Whitehead and Russell rejects an ‘implicit’ definition under a hypothesis in the specific context of the “unrestricted’ variable of “Principia.” Indeed, Russell had been using, before Whitehead’s warning, this type of ‘implicit’ definition under a hypothesis for a long period the minute he mastered Peano's system. It is because Russell interprets a definition under a hypothesis as Peano does, i.e. merely as a device for fixing the denotatum of this or that symbol in an interpreted formula. When one reads after some symbolic definition, things like "'x' being ... " or" 'y' being ... ", this counts as a definition under a hypothesis, if only because the denotatum of the symbol has to be determined. Even if Peano's reductionist analysis of “the” fails because it within the framework of a merely conditional definition, the implicaturum of his original insight (“the” is not primitive) surely influences Whitehead and Russell. Peano is the first who introduces the the distinction between a free (or ‘real’) and a bound (or ‘apparent’) variable, and, predating, Frege -- existential and universal quantification, with an attempt at a substitutional theory based the concept of a ‘proposition,’ without relying on the concepts of ‘class’ or ‘propositional function.’ It may be argued that Peano could hardly may have thought that he eliminated “the.” Peano continues to use “the” and his whole system depends on it. Here, a Griceian practica reason can easily explain Peano’s retaining “the” in a system in cases where the symbol is merely the abbreviation of something that is in principle totally eliminable.In the same vein, Whitehead and Russell do continue to use “the” after the tripartite expansion. Peano, like Whitehead and Russell after him, undoubtedly thinks, and rightly, too, that the descriptor IS eliminable.If he does not flourish this elimination with by full atomistic philosophic paraphernalia which makes Russell's theory of description one of the most important logical successes of Cambridge philosopher – that was admired even at Oxford, if by Grice if not by Strawson, that is another thing. Peano somewhat understated the importance of his reductionist analysis, but then again, his goal is very different from Whitehead’s and Russell's logicism. And different goals for different strokes. In any case, the reductionist analysis of “the” is worked out by Peano with essentially the same symbolic resources that Whitehead and  Russell employ. In a pretty clear fashion, coming from him, Peano states two of the three conditions -- existence and uniqueness – subdivided into ‘at least and at most --, as being what it is explicitly conveyed by “the.” That is why in a negation of a vacuous description, being true, the existence claim, within the scope of the negation, is an annullable implicaturum, while in an affirmation, the existence claim is an entailment rendering the affirmation that predicates a feature of a vacuous definite description is FALSE. Peano has enough symbolic techniques for dispensing with ‘the’, including those required for constructing a definition in use. If he once rather cursorily noted that for Peano, “i” (‘the’) is primitive and indefinable, Quine later recognised Peano’s achievement, and he was “happy to get straight on Peano” on descriptions, having checked all the relevant references and I fully realising that he was wrong when he previously stated that the iota descriptor was for Peano primitive and indefinable. Peano deserves all the credit for the reductionist analysis that has been heaped on Whitehead and Russell, except perhaps for Whitehead’s and Russell’s elaboration on the philosophical lesson of a ‘contextual’ definition.For Peano, “the” cannot be defined in isolation; only in the context of the class (a) from which it is the UNIQUE member (la), and also in the context of the (b) from which that class is a member, at least to the extent that the class a is included in the class b. This carries no conflation of membership and inclusion. It is just a reasonable reading of " 1a Eb". "Ta" is just meaningless if the conditions of existence and uniqueness (at least and at most) are not fulfilled. Surely it may be argued that Peano’s reductionist analysis of “the” is not exactly the same as Whitehead’s and Russell's. Still, in his own version, it surely influenced Whitehead and Russell. In his "On Fundamentals,” Russell includes a definition in terms analogous to Peano's, and with almost the same symbols. The alleged improvement of Whitehead’s and Russell’s definition is in clarity. The concept of a ‘propositional function’ is indeed preferable to that of class membership. Other than that, the symbolic expression of the the three-prong expansive conditions -- existence and uniqueness (at least and at most) -- is preserved. Russell develops Peano’s claim to the effect that “ia” cannot be defined alone, but always in the context of a class, which Russell translates as ‘the context of a propositional function.’ His version in "On Denoting” is well known. In an earlier  letter to Jourdain, dated, Jan. 3, 1906 we read: “'JI( lX) (x) • =•(:3b) : x. =x. X = b: 'JIb.” (They never corresponded about the things Strawson corresponded with Grice – cricket). As G. Landini has pointed out, there is even an earlier occurrence of this definition in Russell’s "On Substitution" with only very slight symbolic differences. We can see the heritage from Peano in a clear way if we compare the definition with the version for classes in the letter to Jourdain: 'JI(t'u) • = : (:3b) : xEU. =x. X = b: 'JIb. Russell can hardly be accused of plagiarizing Peano; yet all the ideas and the formal devices which are important for the reductionist analysis of “the” were developed by in Peano, complete with conceptual and symbolic resources, and which Russell acknowledged that he studied in detail before formulating his own theory in “On denoting.” Regarding Meinong’s ontological jungle, for Russell, the principle of ‘subsistence disappears as a consequence of the reductionist analysis of “the,” which is an outcome of Russell’s semantic monism. Russell's later attitude to Meinong as his main enemy is a comfortable recourse (Griffin I977a).  As for Bocher, Russell himself admits some influence from his nominalism. Bacher describes mathematical objects as "mere symbols"  and advises Russell to follow this line of work in a letter, two months before Russell's key idea. The 'class as one' is merely a symbol or name which we choose at pleasure.” It is important to mention MacColl who he speaks of "symbolic universes", with things like a ‘round square.’MacColl also speaks of "symbolic ‘existence’". Indeed, Russell publishes “On denoting” as a direct response to MacColl. Refs.: P. Benacerraf and H. Putnam, “Philosophy of Mathematics, 2nd ed.Cambridge.; M. Bocher, 1904a. "The Fundamental Conceptions and Methods of Mathematics", Bulletin of the American Mathematical Society; M. A. E. Dummett, The Interpretation of Frege's Philosophy; Duckworth), G. Frege, G., Die Grundlagen der Arithmetik (Breslau: Koebner), tr. J.  L. Austin, The Foundations of Arithmetic, Blackwell, Partial English trans. (§§55-91, 106-1O7) by M. S. Mahoney in Benacerraf and Putnam; "Uber Sinn und Bedeutung". Trans. as "On Sense and Reference" in Frege 1952a, pp. 56-78. --, I892b. "Uber Begriff und Gegenstand". Trans. as "On Concept and Object" in Frege I952a, pp. 42-55. --, I893a. Grungesetze der Arithmetik, Vol. I Gena: Pohle). Partial English trans. by M. Furth, The Basic Laws ofArithmetic (Berkeley: U. California P., 1964). --, I906a. "Uber die Grundlagen der Geometrie", Jahresbericht der deutschen Mathematiker-Vereinigung, 15 (1906): 293-309, 377-403, 423-30. English trans. by Eike-Henner WKluge as "On the Foundations of Geometry", in On the Foundations of Geometry and Formal Theories of Arithmetic (New Haven and London, Yale U. P., 1971). --, I952a. Translations from the Philosophical Writings of Gottlob Frege, tr. by P. T. Geach and M. Black (Oxford: Blackwell). Grattan-Guinness, L, I977a. Dear Russell-Dear Jourdain (London: Duckworth). Griffin, N., I977a. "Russell's 'Horrible Travesty' of Meinong", Russell, nos. 25- 28: 39-51. E. D. Klemke, ed., I970a. Essays on Bertrand Russell (Urbana: U. Illinois P.). Largeault, ]., I97oa. Logique et philosophie chez Frege (Paris: Nauwelaerts). MacColl, H., I905a. "Symbolic Reasoning". Repr. in Russell I973a, pp. 308-16. Mosterfn, ]., I968a. "Teoria de las descripciones" (unpublished PH.D. thesis, U. of Barcelona). Peano, G., as. Opere Scelte, ed. U. Cassina, 3 vols. (Roma: Cremonese, 1957- 59)· --, I897a. "Studii di logica matematica". Repr. in 05,2: 201-17. --, I897b. "Logique mathematique". Repr. in 05,2: 218-81. --, I898a. "Analisi della teoria dei vettori". Repr. in 05,3: 187-2°7. --, I90oa. "Formules de logique mathematique". Repr. in 05,2: 304-61. W. V. O. Quine, 1966a. "Russell's Ontological Development", Journal of Philosophy, 63: 657-67. Repr. in R. Schoenman, ed., Bertrand Russell: Philosopher of the Century (London: Allen and Unwin,1967). Resnik, M., I965a. "Frege's Theory of Incomplete Entities", Philosophy of Science, 32: 329-41. E. A. Rodriguez-Consuegra, 1987a. "Russell's Logicist Definitions of Numbers 1899-1913: Chronology and Significance", History and Philosophy of Logic, 8:141- 69. --, I988a. "Elementos logicistas en la obra de Peano y su escuela", Mathesis, 4: 221-99· --, I989a. "Russell's Theory ofTypes, 1901-1910: Its Complex Origins in the Unpublished Manuscripts", History and Philosophy ofLogic, 10: 131-64. --, I990a. "The Origins of Russell's Theory of Descriptions according to the Unpublished Manuscripts", Russell, n.s. 9: 99-132. --, I99Ia. The Mathematical Philosophy of BertrandRussell: Origins and Development (Basel, Boston and Berlin: Birkhauser). --, I992a. "A New Angle on Russell's 'Inextricable Tangle' over Meaning and Denotation", Russell, n.s. 12 (1992): 197-207. Russell, B., I903a. "On the Meaning and Denotation ofPhrases", Papers 4: 283- 96. --, I905a. "The Existential Import of Propositions", Mind, 14: 398-401. Repr. in I973a, pp. 98-103. --, I905b. "On Fundamentals", Papers 4: 359....,.413. --, I905c. "On Denoting", Mind, 14: 479-93. Repr. in LK, pp. 41-56; Papers 4: 415-27. --, I905d "On Substitution". Unpublished ms. (McMaster U., RAl 220.010940b). --, I906a. "On the Substitutional Theory of Classes and Relations". In I973a, PP· 165-89· --, I908a. "Mathematical Logic as Based on the Theory ofTypes", American Journal of Mathematics, 30: 222-62. Repr. in LK, pp. 59-102. --, I973a. Essays in Analysis, ed. D. Lackey (London: Allen & Unwin). Skosnik, 1972a. "Russell's Unpublished Writings on Truth and Denoting", Russell, no. 7: 12-13. P. F. Strawson, 1950a. "On Referring". Repr. in Klemke I970a, pp. 147-72. Tichy, P., I988a. The Foundations of Frege's Logic (Berlin: de Gruyter). J. Walker, A Study o fFrege (Blackwell).

izzing: Athenian and Oxonian dialectic.As Grice puts it, "Socrates, like us, was really trying to solve linguistic puzzles."This is especially true in the longer dialogues of Plato — the 'Republic' and the Laws'— where we learn quite a lot about Socrates' method and philosophy, filtered, of course, through his devoted pupil's mind.Some of the Pre-Socratics, who provide Plato and his master with many of their problems, were in difficulties about how one thing could be two things at once — say, a white horse. How could you say 'This is a horse and this is white' without saying 'This one thing is two things'? Socrates and Plato together solved this puzzle by saying that what was meant by saying 'The horse is white' is that the horse partakes of the eternal, and perfect, Form horseness, which was invisible but really more horselike than any worldly Dobbin; and ditto about the Form whiteness: it was whiter than any earthly white. The theory of Form covers our whole world of ships and shoes and humpty-dumptys, which, taken all in all, are shadows — approximations of those invisible, perfect Forms. Using the sharp tools in our new linguistic chest, we can whittle Plato down to size and say that he invented his metaphysical world of Forms to solve the problem of different kinds of 'is'es -- what Grice calls the 'izz' proper and the 'izz' improper ('strictly, a 'hazz').You see how Grice, an Oxford counterpart of Plato, uses a very simple grammatical tool in solving problems like this. Instead of conjuring up an imaginary edifice of Forms, he simply says there are two different types of 'is'es — one of predication and one of identity -- 'the izz' and the 'hazz not.' The first, the 'izz' (which is really a 'hazz' -- it is a 'hizz' for Socrates being 'rational') asserts a quality: this is white.' The second 'hazz' points to the object named: 'This is a horse.' By this simple grammatical analysis we clear away the rubble of what were Plato's Forms. That's why an Oxford philosopher loves Aristotle -- and his Athenian dialectic -- (Plato worked in suburbia, The Academy) -- who often, when defining a thing — for example, 'virtue' — asked himself, 'Does the definition square with the ordinary views (ta legomena) of men?' But while Grice does have this or that antecedent, he is surely an innovator in concentrating MOST (if not all) of his attention on what he calls 'the conversational implicaturum.'Grice has little patience with past philosophers.Why bother listening to men whose problems arose from bad grammar? (He excludes Ariskant here). At present, we are mostly preoccupied with language and grammar. Grice would never dream of telling his tutee what he ought to do, the kind of life he ought to lead.That was no longer an aim of philosophy, he explained, but even though philosophy has changed in its aims and methods, people have not, and that was the reason for the complaining tutees -- the few of them -- , for the bitter attacks of Times' correspondents, and even, perhaps, for his turning his back on philosophy. Grice came to feel that Oxford philosophy was a minor revolutionary movement — at least when it is seen through the eyes of past philosophers. I asked him about the fathers of the revolution. Again he was evasive. Strictly speaking, the minor revolution is fatherless, except that Bertrand Russell, G. E. Moore, and Vitters — all of them, as it happened, Cambridge University figures — "are responsible for the present state of things at Oxford." under ‘conjunctum,’ we see that there is an alternative vocabulary, of ‘copulatum.’ But Grice prefers to narrow the use of ‘copula’ to izzing’ and ‘hazzing.’ Oddly, Grice sees izzing as a ‘predicate,’ and symbolises it as Ixy. While he prefers ‘x izzes y,’ he also uses ‘x izz y.’ Under izzing comes Grice’s discussion of essential predicate, essence, and substance qua predicabilia (secondary substance). As opposed to ‘hazzing,’ which covers all the ‘ta sumbebeka,’ or ‘accidentia.’ Refs.: H. P. Grice, “Aristotle on the multiplicity of ‘being.’”

jacobi: man of letters, popular novelist, and author of several influential philosophical works. His “Ueber die Lehre des Spinoza” precipitates a dispute with Mendelssohn on Lessing’s alleged pantheism. The ensuing Pantheismusstreit (pantheism controversy) focused attention on the apparent conflict between human freedom and any systematic, philosophical interpretation of reality. In the appendix to his David Hume über den Glauben, oder Idealismus und Realismus (“David Hume on Belief, or Idealism and Realism,” 1787), Jacobi scrutinized the new transcendental philosophy of Kant, and subjected Kant’s remarks concerning “things-in-themselves” to devastating criticism, observing that, though one could not enter the critical philosophy without presupposing the existence of things-in-themselves, such a belief is incompatible with the tenets of that philosophy. This criticism deeply influenced the efforts of post-Kantians (e.g., Fichte) to improve transcendental idealism. In 1799, in an “open letter” to Fichte, Jacobi criticized philosophy in general and transcendental idealism in particular as “nihilism.” Jacobi espoused a fideistic variety of direct realism and characterized his own standpoint as one of “nonknowing.” Employing the arguments of “Humean skepticism,” he defended the necessity of a “leap of faith,” not merely in morality and religion, but in every area of human life. Jacobi’s criticisms of reason and of science profoundly influenced German Romanticism. Near the end of his career he entered bitter public controversies with Hegel and Schelling concerning the relationship between faith and knowledge.

james: w. New-World philosopher, psychologist, and one of the founders of pragmatism. He was born in New York, the oldest of five children and elder brother of the novelist Henry James and diarist Alice James. Their father, Henry James, Sr., was an unorthodox religious philosopher, deeply influenced by the thought of Swedenborg, some of which seeped into William’s later fascination with psychical research. The James family relocated to Cambridge, Massachusetts, but the father insisted on his children obtaining an Old-World education, and prolonged trips to England and the Continent were routine, a procedure that made William multilingual and extraordinarily cosmopolitan. In fact, a pervasive theme in James’s personal and creative life was his deep split between things New-World and Old-World Europe: he felt like a bigamist “coquetting with too many countries.” As a person, James is extraordinarily sensitive to psychological and bodily experiences. He could be described as “neurasthenic” – afflicted with constant psychosomatic symptoms such as dyspepsia, vision problems, and clinical depression. In 1868 he recorded a profound personal experience, a “horrible fear of my own existence.” In two 1870 diary entries, James first contemplates suicide and then pronounces his belief in free will and his resolve to act on that belief in “doing, suffering and creating.” Under the influence of the then burgeoning work in experimental psychology, James attempted to sustain, on empirical grounds, his belief in the self as Promethean, as self-making rather than as a playing out of inheritance or the influence of social context. This bold and extreme doctrine of individuality is bolstered by his attack on both the neo-Hegelian and associationist doctrines. He held that both approaches miss the empirical reality of relations as affectively experienced and the reality of consciousness as a “stream,” rather than an aspect of an Absolute or simply a box holding a chain of concepts corresponding to single sense impressions. In 1890, James published his masterpiece, The Principles of Psychology, which established him as the premier psychologist of the Euro-American world. It was a massive compendium and critique of virtually all of the psychology literature then extant, but it also claimed that the discipline was in its infancy. James believed that the problems he had unearthed could only be understood by a philosophical approach. James held only one academic degree, an M.D. from Harvard, and his early teaching at Harvard was in anatomy and physiology. He subsequently became a professor of psychology, but during the writing of the Principles, he began to teach philosophy as a colleague of Royce and Santayana. From 1890 forward James saw the fundamental issues as at bottom philosophical and he undertook an intense inquiry into matters epistemological and metaphysical; in particular, “the religious question” absorbed him. The Will to Believe and Other Essays in Popular Philosophy was published in 1897. The lead essay, “The Will to Believe,” had been widely misunderstood, partly because it rested on unpublished metaphysical assumptions and partly because it ran aggressively counter to the reigning dogmas of social Darwinism and neo-Hegelian absolutism, both of which denigrated the personal power of the individual. For James, one cannot draw a conclusion, fix a belief, or hold to a moral or religious maxim unless all suggestions of an alternative position are explored. Further, some alternatives will be revealed only if one steps beyond one’s frame of reference, seeks novelty, and “wills to believe” in possibilities beyond present sight. The risk taking in such an approach to human living is further detailed in James’s essays “The Dilemma of Determinism” and “The Moral Philosopher and the Moral Life,” both of which stress the irreducibility of ambiguity, the presence of chance, and the desirability of tentativeness in our judgments. After presenting the Gifford Lectures in 1901– 02, James published his classic work, The Varieties of Religious Experience, which coalesced his interest in psychic states both healthy and sick and afforded him the opportunity to present again his firm belief that human life is characterized by a vast array of personal, cultural, and religious approaches that cannot and should not be reduced one to the other. For James, the “actual peculiarities of the world” must be central to any philosophical discussion of truth. In his Hibbert Lectures of 1909, published as A Pluralistic Universe, James was to represent this sense of plurality, openness, and the variety of human experience on a wider canvas, the vast reach of consciousness, cosmologically understood. Unknown to all but a few philosophical correspondents, James had been assiduously filling notebooks with reflections on the mind–body problem and the relationship between meaning and truth and with a philosophical exploration and extension of his doctrine of relations as found earlier in the Principles. In 1904–05 James published a series of essays, gathered posthumously in 1912, on the meaning of experience and the problem of knowledge. In a letter to François Pillon in 1904, he writes: “My philosophy is what I call a radical empiricism, a pluralism, a ‘tychism,’ which represents order as being gradually won and always in the making.” Following his 1889 essay “On Some Omissions of Introspective Psychology” and his chapter on “The Stream of Thought” in the Principles, James takes as given that relations between things are equivalently experienced as the things themselves. Consequently, “the only meaning of essence is teleological, and that classification and conception are purely teleological weapons of the mind.” The description of consciousness as a stream having a fringe as well as a focus, and being selective all the while, enables him to take the next step, the formulation of his pragmatic epistemology, one that was influenced by, but is different from, that of Peirce. Published in 1907, Pragmatism generated a transatlantic furor, for in it James unabashedly states that “Truth happens to be an idea. It becomes true, is made true by events.” He also introduces the philosophically notorious claim that “theories” must be found that will “work.” Actually, he means that a proposition cannot be judged as true independently of its consequences as judged by experience. James’s prose, especially in Pragmatism, alternates between scintillating and limpid. This quality led to both obfuscation of his intention and a lulling of his reader into a false sense of simplicity. He does not deny the standard definition of truth as a propositional claim about an existent, for he writes “woe to him whose beliefs play fast and loose with the order which realities follow in his experience; they will lead him nowhere or else make false connexions.” Yet he regards this structure as but a prologue to the creative activity of the human mind. Also in Pragmatism, speaking of the world as “really malleable,” he argues that man engenders truths upon reality. This tension between James as a radical empiricist with the affirmation of the blunt, obdurate relational manifold given to us in our experience and James as a pragmatic idealist holding to the constructing, engendering power of the Promethean self to create its own personal world, courses throughout all of his work. James was chagrined and irritated by the quantity, quality, and ferocity of the criticism leveled at Pragmatism. He attempted to answer those critics in a book of disparate essays, The Meaning of Truth (1909). The book did little to persuade his critics; since most of them were unaware of his radically empirical metaphysics and certainly of his unpublished papers, James’s pragmatism remained misunderstood until the publication of Perry’s magisterial two-volume study, The Thought and Character of William James (1935). By 1910, James’s heart disease had worsened; he traveled to Europe in search of some remedy, knowing full well that it was a farewell journey. Shortly after returning to his summer home in Chocorua, New Hampshire, he died. One month earlier he had said of a manuscript (posthumously published in 1911 as Some Problems in Philosophy), “say that by it I hoped to round out my system, which is now too much like an arch only on one side.” Even if he had lived much longer, it is arguable that the other side of the arch would not have appeared, for his philosophy was ineluctably geared to seeking out the novel, the surprise, the tychistic, and the plural, and to denying the finality of all conclusions. He warned us that “experience itself, taken at large, can grow by its edges” and no matter how laudable or seductive our personal goal, “life is in the transitions.” The Works of William James, including his unpublished manuscripts, have been collected in a massive nineteen-volume critical edition by Harvard University Press (1975–88). His work can be seen as an imaginative vestibule into the twentieth century. His ideas resonate in the work of Royce, Unamuno, Niels Bohr, Husserl, M. Montessori, Dewey, and Wittgenstein. Refs.: H. P. Grice, “William James’s England and what he learned there!”  

James-Lange theory, the theory, put forward by James and independently by Lange, an anatomist, that an emotion is the felt awareness of bodily reactions to something perceived or thought (James) or just the bodily reactions themselves (Lange). According to the more influential version (James, “What Is an Emotion?” Mind, 1884), “our natural way of thinking” mistakenly supposes that the perception or thought causes the emotion, e.g., fear or anger, which in turn causes the bodily reactions, e.g., rapid heartbeat, weeping, trembling, grimacing, and actions such as running and striking. In reality, however, the fear or anger consists in the bodily sensations caused by these reactions. In support of this theory, James proposed a thought experiment: Imagine feeling some “strong” emotion, one with a pronounced “wave of bodily disturbance,” and then subtract in imagination the felt awareness of this disturbance. All that remains, James found, is “a cold and neutral state of intellectual perception,” a cognition lacking in emotional coloration. Consequently, it is our bodily feelings that emotionalize consciousness, imbuing our perceptions and thoughts with emotional qualities and endowing each type of emotion, such as fear, anger, and joy, with its special feeling quality. But this does not warrant James’s radical conclusion that emotions or emotional states are effects rather than causes of bodily reactions. That conclusion requires the further assumption, which James shared with many of his contemporaries, that the various emotions are nothing but particular feeling qualities. Historically, the James-Lange theory led to further inquiries into the physiological and cognitive causes of emotional feelings and helped transform the psychology of emotions from a descriptive study relying on introspection to a broader naturalistic inquiry.

Jansenism, a set of doctrines advanced by philosophers in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, characterized by a predestinarianism that emphasized Adam’s fall (“il pecato originale di Adamo”) irresistible efficacious grace (“grice”), limited atonement, election, and reprobation. Addressing the issue of free will and grace left open by the Council of Trent, Cornelius Jansen crystallized the seventeenth-century Augustinian revival, producing a compilation of Augustine’s anti-Pelagian teachings (Augustinus). Propagated by Saint Cyran and Antoine Arnauld (On Frequent Communion, 1643), adopted by the nuns of Port-Royal, and defended against Jesuit attacks by Pascal (Provincial Letters, 1656–57), Jansenism pervaded Roman Catholicism from Utrecht to Rome for over 150 years. Condemned by Pope Innocent X (Cum Occasione, 1653) and crushed by Louis XIV and the French clergy (the 1661 formulary), it survived outside France and rearmed for a counteroffensive. Pasquier Quesnel’s (1634–1719) “second Jansenism,” condemned by Pope Clement XI (Unigenitus, 1713), was less Augustinian, more rigorist, and advocated Presbyterianism and Gallicanism.

jaspers: philosopher, one of the main representatives of the existentialist movement (although he rejected ‘existentialism’ as a distortion of the philosophy of existence). Jaspers studied law and medicine at Heidelberg, Munich, Berlin, and Göttingen. He concluded his studies with an M.D. (Homesickness and Crime) from Heidelberg. From 1908 until 1915 he worked as a voluntary assistant in the psychiatric clinic, and published his first major work (Allgemeine Psychopathologie, 1913; General Psychopathology, 1965). After his habilitation in psychology (1913) Jaspers lectured as Privatdocent. In 1919 he published Psychologie der Weltanschauung (“Psychology of Worldviews”). Two years later he became professor in philosophy. Because of his personal convictions and marriage with Gertrud Mayer (who was Jewish) the Nazi government took away his professorship in 1937 and suppressed all publications. He and his wife were saved from deportation because the American army liberated Heidelberg a few days before the fixed date of April 14, 1945. In 1948 he accepted a professorship from the University of Basel. As a student, Jaspers felt a strong aversion to academic philosophy. However, as he gained insights in the fields of psychiatry and psychology, he realized that both the study of human beings and the meaning of scientific research pointed to questions and problems that demanded their own thoughts and reflections. Jaspers gave a systematic account of them in his three-volume Philosophie (1931; with postscript, 1956; Philosophy, 1969–71), and in the 1,100 pages of Von der Wahrheit (On Truth, 1947). In the first volume (“Philosophical World-orientation”) he discusses the place and meaning of philosophy with regard to the human situation in general and scientific disciplines in particular. In the second (“Clarification of Existence”), he contrasts the compelling modes of objective (scientific) knowledge with the possible (and in essence non-objective) awareness of being in self-relation, communication, and historicity, both as being oneself presents itself in freedom, necessity, and transcendence, and as existence encounters its unconditionality in limit situations (of death, suffering, struggle, guilt) and the polar intertwining of subjectivity and objectivity. In the third volume (“Metaphysics”) he concentrates on the meaning of transcendence as it becomes translucent in appealing ciphers (of nature, history, consciousness, art, etc.) to possible existence under and against the impact of stranding. His Von der Wahrheit is the first volume of a projected work on philosophical logic (cf. Nachlaß zur philosophischen Logik, ed. H. Saner and M. Hänggi, 1991) in which he develops the more formal aspects of his philosophy as “periechontology” (ontology of the encompassing, des Umgreifenden, with its modes of being there, consciousness, mind, existence, world, transcendence, reason) and clarification of origins. In both works Jaspers focuses on “existential philosophy” as “that kind of thinking through which man tries to become himself both as thinking makes use of all real knowledge and as it transcends this knowledge. This thinking does not recognize objects, but clarifies and enacts at once the being of the one who thinks in this way” (Philosophische Autobiographie, 1953). In his search for authentic existence in connection with the elaboration of “philosophical faith” in reason and truth, Jaspers had to achieve a thorough understanding of philosophical, political, and religious history as well as an adequate assessment of the present situation. His aim became a world philosophy as a possible contribution to universal peace out of the spirit of free and limitless communication, unrestricted open-mindedness, and unrelenting truthfulness. Besides a comprehensive history of philosophy (Die groben Philosophen I, 1957; II and III, 1981; The Great Philosophers, 2 vols., 1962, 1966) and numerous monographs (on Cusanus, Descartes, Leonardo da Vinci, Schelling, Nietzsche, Strindberg, van Gogh, Weber) he wrote on subjects such as the university (Die Idee der Universität, 1946; The Idea of the University, 1959), the spiritual situation of the age (Die geistige Situation der Zeit, 1931; Man in the Modern Age, 1933), the meaning of history (Vom Ursprung und Ziel der Geschichte, 1949; The Origin and Goal of History, in which he developed the idea of an “axial period”), the guilt question (Die Schuldfrage, 1946; The Question of German Guilt, 1947), the atomic bomb (Die Atombombe und die Zukunft des Menschen, 1958; The Future of Mankind, 1961), German politics (Wohin treibt die Bundesrepublik? 1966; The Future of Germany, 1967). He also wrote on theology and religious issues (Die Frage der Entymythologisierung. Eine Diskussion mit Rudolf Bultmann, 1954; Myth and Christianity, 1958; Der philosophische Glaube angesichts der Offenbarung, 1962; Philosophical Faith and Revelation, 1967).

jevons: w. s., philosopher of science. In economics, he clarified the idea of value, arguing that it is a function of utility. Later theorists imitated his use of the calculus and other mathematical tools to reach theoretical results. His approach anticipated the idea of marginal utility, a notion basic in modern economics. Jevons regarded J. S. Mill’s logic as inadequate, preferring the new symbolic logic of Boole. One permanent contribution was his introduction of the concept of inclusive ‘or’, with ‘or’ meaning ‘either or, or both’. To aid in teaching the new logic of classes and propositions, Jevons invented his “logical piano.” In opposition to the confidence in induction of Mill and Whewell, both of whom thought, for different reasons, that induction can arrive at exact and necessary truths, Jevons argued that science yields only approximations, and that any perfect fit between theory and observation must be grounds for suspicion that we are wrong, not for confidence that we are right. Jevons introduced probability theory to show how rival hypotheses are evaluated. He was a subjectivist, holding that probability is a measure of what a perfectly rational person would believe given the available evidence. H. P. Grice: “Jevons’s Aristotle.”

da Floris: Italian philosopher, the founder the order of Ciscercian order of San Giovanni in Fiore (vide, Grice, “St. John’s and the Cistercians”). He devoted the rest of his life to meditation and the recording of his prophetic visions. In his major works Liber concordiae Novi ac Veteri Testamenti (“Book of the Concordances between the New and the Old Testament,” 1519), Expositio in Apocalypsim (1527), and Psalterium decem chordarum (1527), Joachim illustrates the deep meaning of history as he perceived it in his visions. History develops in coexisting patterns of twos and threes. The two testaments represent history as divided in two phases ending in the First and Second Advent, respectively. History progresses also through stages corresponding to the Holy Trinity. The age of the Father is that of the law; the age of the Son is that of grace, ending approximately in 1260; the age of the Spirit will produce a spiritualized church. Some monastic orders like the Franciscans and Dominicans saw themselves as already belonging to this final era of spirituality and interpreted Joachim’s prophecies as suggesting the overthrow of the contemporary ecclesiastical institutions. Some of his views were condemned by the Lateran Council in 1215.  

philoponus: Grecian philosopher and theologian, who worked in Alexandria (“philoponus,” ‘workaholic’, just a nickname). A Christian from birth, he was a pupil of the Platonist Ammonius, and is the first Christian Aristotelian. As such, he challenged Aristotle on many points where he conflicted with Christian doctrine, e.g. the eternity of the world, the need for an infinite force, the definition of place, the impossibility of a vacuum, and the necessity for a fifth element to be the substance of the heavens. Johannes composed commentaries on Aristotle’s Categories, Prior and Posterior Analytics, Meteorologics, and On the Soul; and a treatise Against Proclus: On the Eternity of the World. There is dispute as to whether the commentaries exhibit a change of mind (away from orthodox Aristotelianism) on these questions.

Damascenus Chrysorrhoas: Greican theologian and Eastern church doctor. Born of a well-to-do family in Damascus, he was educated in Greek. He attained a high position in government but resigned under the antiChristian Caliph Abdul Malek and became a monk about 700, living outside Jerusalem. He left extensive writings, most little more than compilations of older texts. The Iconoclastic Synod of 754 condemned his arguments in support of the veneration of images in the three Discourses against the Iconoclasts (726–30), but his orthodoxy was confirmed in 787 at the Second Council of Nicaea. His Sources of Knowledge consists of a Dialectic, a history of heresies, and an exposition of orthodoxy. Considered a saint from the end of the eighth century, he was much respected in the East and was regarded as an important witness to Eastern Orthodox thought by the West in the Middle Ages.

Poinsot: philosopher, studied at Louvain, entered the Dominican order (1610), and taught at Piacenza. His most important works are the Cursus philosophicus, a work on logic and natural philosophy; and the Cursus theologicus (“Course of Theology,” 1637–44), a commentary on Aquinas’s Summa theologiae. John considered himself a Thomist, but he modified Aquinas’s views in important ways. The “Ars Logica,” the first part of the Cursus philosophicus, is the source of much subsequent Catholic teaching in logic. It is divided into two parts: the first deals with formal logic and presents a comprehensive theory of terms, propositions, and reasoning; the second discusses topics in material logic, such as predicables, categories, and demonstration. An important contribution in the first is a comprehensive theory of signs that has attracted considerable attention in the twentieth century among such philosophers as Maritain, Yves Simon, John Wild, and others. An important contribution in the second part is the division of knowledge according to physical, mathematical, and metaphysical degrees, which was later adopted by Maritain. John dealt with metaphysical problems in the second part of the Cursus philosophicus and in the Cursus theologicus. His views are modifications of Aquinas’s. For example, Aquinas held that the principle of individuation is matter designated by quantity; John interpreted this as matter radically determined by dimensions, where the dimensions are indeterminate. In contrast to other major figures of the Spanish Scholasticism of the times, John did not write much in political and legal theory. He considered ethics and political philosophy to be speculative rather than practical sciences, and adopted a form of probabilism. Moreover, when in doubt about a course of action, one may simply adopt any pertinent view proposed by a prudent moralist.

salisbury: Grice: “One should not confuse Salisbury with Salisbury.” English philosopher, tutored by Abelard and Gilbert of Poitiers in Paris. It is possible that during this time he also studied grammar, rhetoric, and part of the quadrivium with Conches at Chartres. After 1147 he was for a time a member of the Roman Curia, secretary to Theobald, archbishop of Canterbury, and friend of Thomas Becket. For his role in Becket’s canonization, Louis VII of France rewarded him with the bishopric of Chartres. Salisbury is a dedicated student of philosophy. In his letters, biographies of Anselm and Becket, and Memoirs of the Papal Court, Salisbury provides, in perhaps the best medieval imitation of classical Latin style, an account of some of the most important ideas, events, and personalities of his time. Neither these works nor his Polycraticus and “Metalogicon,” for which he is most celebrated, are systematic philosophical treatises. The “Polycraticus” is, however, considered one of the first medieval treatises to take up political theory in any extended way. Salisbury maintains that if a ruler does not legislate in accordance with natural moral law, legitimate resistance to him can include his assassination. In the “Metalogicon,” on the other hand, Salisbury discusses, in a humanist spirit, the benefits for a civilized world of philosophical training based on Aristotle’s logic. He also presents current views on the nature of the universale and, not surprisingly, endorses an Aristotelian view of them as neither extramental entities nor mere expressum, but a conceptus that nevertheless has a basis in reality insofar as they are the result of the mind’s abstracting from extramental entities what those entities have in common.

johnson: Grice, “Not to be confused with Dr. Johnson – this one was as a philosopher should just be, an MA, like me!” -- w. e., very English philosopher who lectured on psychology and logic at Cambridge University. His Logic was published in three parts: Part I (1921); Part II, Demonstrative Inference: Deductive and Inductive (1922); and Part III, The Logical Foundations of Science (1924). He did not complete Part IV on probability, but in 1932 Mind published three of its intended chapters. Johnson’s other philosophical publications, all in Mind, were not abundant. The discussion note “On Feeling as Indifference” (1888) deals with problems of classification. “The Logical Calculus” (three parts, 1892) anticipates the “Cambridge” style of logic while continuing the tradition of Jevons and Venn; the same is true of treatments of formal logic in Logic. “Analysis of Thinking” (two parts, 1918) advances an adverbial theory of experience. Johnson’s philosophic influence at Cambridge exceeded the influence of these publications, as one can see from the references to him by John Neville Keynes in Studies and Exercises in Formal Logic and by his son John Maynard Keynes in A Treatise on Probability. Logic contains original and distinctive treatments of induction, metaphysics, the philosophy of mind, and philosophical logic. Johnson’s theory of inference proposes a treatment of implication that is an alternative to the view of Russell and Whitehead in Principia Mathematica. He coined the term ‘ostensive definition’ and introduced the distinction between determinates and determinables.

jung: founder of analytical psychology, a form of psychoanalysis that differs from Freud’s chiefly by an emphasis on the collective character of the unconscious and on archetypes as its privileged contents. Jung, like Freud, was deeply influenced by philosophy in his early years. Before his immersion in psychiatry, he wrote several essays of explicitly philosophical purport. Kant was doubtless the philosopher who mattered most to Jung, for whom archetypes were conceived as a priori structures of the human psyche. Plato and Neoplatonists, Schopenhauer and especially Nietzsche (to whose Zarathustra he devoted a seminar of several years’ duration) were also of critical importance. Oddly, Jung was a close reader of James (in German translation, of course), and his Psychological Types (1921) – in addition to an extended discussion of nominalism versus realism – contains a detailed treatment of Jamesian typologies of the self. Jung considered the self to be an amalgamation of an “ectopsyche” – consisting of four functions (intuition, sensation, feeling, and thinking) that surround an ego construed not as a singular entity but as a “complex” of ideas and emotions – and an “endosphere” (i.e., consciousness turned inward in memory, affect, etc.). The personal unconscious, which preoccupied Freud, underlies the endosphere and its “invasions,” but it is in turn grounded in the collective unconscious shared by all humankind. The collective unconscious was induced by Jung from his analysis of dream symbols and psychopathological symptoms. It is an inherited archive of archaic-mythic forms and figures that appear repeatedly in the most diverse cultures and historical epochs. Such forms and figures – also called archetypes – are considered “primordial images” preceding the “ideas” that articulate rational thought. As a consequence, the self, rather than being autonomous, is embedded in a prepersonal and prehistoric background from which there is no effective escape. However, through prolonged psychotherapeutically guided “individuation,” a slow assimilation of the collective unconscious into daily living can occur, leading to an enriched and expanded sense of experience and selfhood.

jurisprudence: McEvoy.
Hart, Grice’s favourite prudens, iurisprudens: jurisprudence, the science or “knowledge” of law; thus, in its widest usage, the study of the legal doctrines, rules, and principles of any legal system, especially that which is valid at Oxford. More commonly, however, ‘prudens,’ or ‘iurisprudens’ designates the study not of the actual laws of particular legal systems, but of the general concepts and principles that underlie a legal system or that are common to every such system (general jurisprudence). Jurisprudence in this usage, sometimes also called the philosophy of law – but Grice preferred, “philosophical jurisprudence”) may be further subdivided according to the major focus of a particular study. Examples include Roman and English historical jurisprudence (a study of the development of legal principles over time, often emphasizing the origin of law in custom or tradition rather than in enacted rules), sociological jurisprudence (an examination of the relationship between legal rules and the behavior of individuals, groups, or institutions), functional jurisprudence (an inquiry into the relationship between legal norms and underlying social interests or needs), and analytical jurisprudence (an investigation into the connections among legal concepts). Within analytical jurisprudence the most substantial body of thought focuses on the meaning of the concept of law itself (legal theory) and the relationship between that concept and the concept of the moral. Legal positivism, the view that there is no necessary connection between legal (a legal right) and the moral (a moral right), opposes the natural law view that no sharp distinction between these concepts can be drawn. Legal positivism is sometimes thought to be a consequence of positivism’s insistence that legal validity is determined ultimately by reference to certain basic social facts: “the command of the sovereign” (Austin – “the other Austin, the benevolent one!” -- Grice), the Grundnorm (Kelsen), or “the rule of re-cognition” (Hart). These different positivist characterizations of the basic, law-determining FACT yield different claims about the normative character of law, with classical positivists (e.g., John Austin) insisting that legal systems are essentially coercive, whereas modern positivists (e.g., Hans Kelsen) maintain that they are normative. Disputes within legal theory often generate or arise out of disputes about theories of adjudication, or how a judge does or should decide a case. Mechanical jurisprudence, or formalism, the theory that all cases can be decided solely by analyzing a legal concept, is thought by many to have characterized judicial decisions and legal reasoning in the nineteenth century; that theory became an easy target in the twentieth century for various forms of legal ‘realism,’ the view (which Grice found pretentious) that law is better determined by observing what a court and a citizen actually does than by analyzing stated legal rules and concepts. Recent developments in the natural law tradition also focus on the process of adjudication and the normative claim that accompany the judicial declaration of legal rights and obligations. These normative claim, the natural law theorist argues, show a legal right is a species of a political right or a moral right. In consequence, one must either revise prevailing theories of adjudication and abandon the social-fact theory of law (New-World Dworkin), or explore the connection between legal theory and the classical question of political theory. Under what condition does a legal obligation, even if determined by an inter-subjetctive fact, create a genuine political obligation (e.g., the meta-obligation to obey the law)? Other jurisprudential notions that overlap topics in political theory include rule of law, legal moralism, and civil disobedience. The disputes within legal theory about the connection between law and morality should not be confused with discussions of “natural law” within moral theory. In Grice’s meta-ethics, so-called “natural law” denotes a particular view about the objective status of a moral norm that has produced a considerable literature, extending from ancient Grecian and Roman thought, through medieval theological writings, to contemporary Oxonian ethical thought. Though the claim that one cannot sharply separate law and morality is often made as part of a general natural law moral theory, the referents of ‘natural law’ in legal and moral theory do not share any obvious logical relationship. A moral theorist may conclude that there is NO necessary connection between law and morality, thus endorsing a positivist view of law, while consistently advocating a natural law view of morality itself. Conversely, as Grice notes, a natural law legal theorist, in accepting the view that there IS a connection (or priority) between law and morality (a moral right being evaluational prior than a legal right, even if not epistemically prior), might nonetheless endorse a substantive moral theory different from that implied by a natural law moral theory. Refs.: G. P. Baker, “Meaning and defeasibility,” in Festschrift for H. L. A. Hart,  G. P. Baker, “Alternative mind styles,” in Festschrift for H. P. Grice, H. L. A. Hart, “Grice” in “The nightmare,” H. P. Grice, “Moral right and legal right: three types of conceptual priority.”

jury nullification, a jury’s ability, or the exercise of that ability, to acquit a criminal defendant despite finding facts that leave no reasonable doubt about violation of a criminal statute. This ability is not a right, but an artifact of criminal procedure. In the common law, the jury has sole authority to determine the facts, and the judge to determine the law. The jury’s findings of fact cannot be reviewed. The term ‘nullification’ suggests that jury nullification is opposed to the rule of law. This thought would be sound only if an extreme legal positivism were true – that the law is nothing but the written law and the written law covers every possible fact situation. Jury nullification is better conceived as a form of equity, a rectification of the inherent limits of written law. In nullifying, juries make law. To make jury nullification a right, then, raises problems of democratic legitimacy, such as whether a small, randomly chosen group of citizens has authority to make law.

de jure: Or titular, as opposed to ‘de facto.’ Each getting what he is due. Formal justice is the impartial and consistent application of a Kantian principle, whether or not the principle itself is just. Substantive justice is closely associated with rights, i.e., with what individuals can legitimately demand of one another or what they can legitimately demand of their government (e.g., with respect to the protection of liberty or the promotion of equality). Retributive justice concerns when and why punishment is justified. Debate continues over whether punishment is justified as retribution for past wrongdoing or because it deters future wrongdoing. Those who stress retribution as the justification for punishment usually believe human beings have libertarian free will, while those who stress deterrence usually accept determinism. At least since Aristotle, justice has commonly been identified both with obeying law and with treating everyone with fairness. But if law is, and justice is not, entirely a matter of convention, then justice cannot be identified with obeying law. The literature on legal positivism and natural law theory contains much debate about whether there are moral limits on what conventions could count as law. Corrective justice concerns the fairness of demands for civil damages. Commutative justice concerns the fairness of wages, prices, and exchanges. Distributive justice concerns the fairness of the distribution of resources. Commutative justice and distributive justice are related, since people’s wages influence how much resources they have. But the distinction is important because it may be just to pay A more than B (because A is more productive than B) but just that B is left with more after-tax resources (because B has more children to feed than A does). In modern philosophy, however, the debate about just wages and prices has been overshadowed by the larger question of what constitutes a just distribution of resources. Some (e.g., Marx) have advocated distributing resources in accordance with needs. Others have advocated their distribution in whatever way maximizes utility in the long run. Others have argued that the fair distribution is one that, in some sense, is to everyone’s advantage. Still others have maintained that a just distribution is whatever results from the free market. Some theorists combine these and other approaches.

iustificatum: “Late Latin; apparently neither the Grecians nor Cicero saw the need for it!”– Grice. justification, a concept of broad scope that spans epistemology and ethics and has as special cases the concepts of apt belief and right action. The concept has, however, highly varied application. Many things, of many different sorts, can be justified. Prominent among them are beliefs and actions. To say that X is justified is to say something positive about X. Other things being equal, it is better that X be justified than otherwise. However, not all good entities are justified. The storm’s abating may be good since it spares some lives, but it is not thereby justified. What we can view as justified or unjustified is what we can relate appropriately to someone’s faculties or choice. (Believers might hence view the storm’s abating as justified after all, if they were inclined to judge divine providence.) Just as in epistemology we need to distinguish justification from truth, since either of these might apply to a belief in the absence of the other, so in ethics we must distinguish justification from utility: an action might be optimific but not justified, and justified but not optimific. What is distinctive of justification is then the implied evaluation of an agent (thus the connection, however remote, with faculties of choice). To say that a belief is (epistemically) justified (apt) or to say that an action is (ethically) justified (“right” – in one sense) is to make or imply a judgment on the subject and how he or she has arrived at that action or belief. Often a much narrower concept of justification is used, one according to which X is justified only if X has been or at least can be justified through adducing reasons. Such adducing of reasons can be viewed as the giving of an argument of any of several sorts: e.g., conclusive, prima facie, inductive, or deductive. A conclusive justification or argument adduces conclusive reasons for the possible (object of) action or belief that figures in the conclusion. In turn, such reasons are conclusive if and only if they raise the status of the conclusion action or belief so high that the subject concerned would be well advised to conclude deliberation or inquiry. A prima facie justification or argument adduces a prima facie reason R (or more than one) in favor of the possible (object of) action or belief O that figures in the conclusion. In turn, R is a prima facie reason for O if and only if R specifies an advantage or positive consideration in favor of O, one that puts O in a better light than otherwise. Even if R is a prima facie reason for O, however, R can be outweighed, overridden, or defeated by contrary considerations RH. Thus my returning a knife that I promised to return to its rightful owner has in its favor the prima facie reason that it is my legal obligation and the fulfillment of a promise, but if the owner has gone raving mad, then there may be reasons against returning the knife that override, outweigh, or defeat. (And there may also be reasons that defeat a positive prima facie reason without amounting to reasons for the opposite course. Thus it may emerge that the promise to return the knife was extracted under duress.) A (valid) deductive argument for a certain conclusion C is a sequence of thoughts or statements whose last member is C (not necessarily last temporally, but last in the sequence) and each member of which is either an assumption or premise of the argument or is based on earlier members of the sequence in accordance with a sound principle of necessary inference, such as simplification: from (P & Q) to P; or addition: from P to (P or Q); or modus ponens: from P and (P only if Q) to Q. Whereas the premises of a deductive argument necessarily entail the conclusion, which cannot possibly fail to be true when the justice as fairness justification 457 4065h-l.qxd 08/02/1999 7:40 AM Page 457 premises are all true, the premises of an inductive argument do not thus entail its conclusion but offer considerations that only make the conclusion in some sense more probable than it would be otherwise. From the premises that it rains and that if it rains the streets are wet, one may deductively derive the conclusion that the streets are wet. However, the premise that I have tried to start my car on many, many winter mornings during the two years since I bought it and that it has always started, right up to and including yesterday, does not deductively imply that it will start when I try today. Here the conclusion does not follow deductively. Though here the reason provided by the premise is only an inductive reason for believing the conclusion, and indeed a prima facie and defeasible reason, nevertheless it might well be in our sense a conclusive reason. For it might enable us rightfully to conclude inquiry and/or deliberation and proceed to (action or, in this case) belief, while turning our attention to other matters (such as driving to our destination).

Fides: -- justification by faith, the characteristic doctrine of the Protestant Reformation that sinful human beings can be justified before God through faith in Jesus Christ. ‘Being justified’ is understood in forensic terms: before the court of divine justice humans are not considered guilty because of their sins, but rather are declared by God to be holy and righteous in virtue of the righteousness of Christ, which God counts on their behalf. Justification is received by faith, which is not merely belief in Christian doctrine but includes a sincere and heartfelt trust and commitment to God in Christ for one’s salvation. Such faith, if genuine, leads to the reception of the transforming influences of God’s grace and to a life of love, obedience, and service to God. These consequences of faith, however, are considered under the heading of sanctification rather than justification. The rival Roman Catholic doctrine of justification – often mislabeled by Protestants as “justification by works” – understands key terms differently. ‘Being just’ is understood not primarily in forensic terms but rather as a comprehensive state of being rightly related to God, including the forgiveness of sins, the reception of divine grace, and inner transformation. Justification is a work of God initially accomplished at baptism; among the human “predispositions” for justification are faith (understood as believing the truths God has revealed), awareness of one’s sinfulness, hope in God’s mercy, and a resolve to do what God requires. Salvation is a gift of God that is not deserved by human beings, but the measure of grace bestowed depends to some extent on the sincere efforts of the sinner who is seeking salvation. The Protestant and Catholic doctrines are not fully consistent with each other, but neither are they the polar opposites they are often made to appear by the caricatures each side offers of the other.

Jus ad bellum, jus in bello: a set of conditions justifying the resort to war (jus ad bellum) and prescribing how war may permissibly be conducted (jus in bello). The theory is a Western approach to the moral assessment of war that grew out of the Christian tradition beginning with Augustine, later taking both religious and secular (including legalist) forms. Proposed conditions for a just war vary in both number and interpretation. Accounts of jus ad bellum typically require: (1) just cause: an actual or imminent wrong against the state, usually a violation of rights, but sometimes provided by the need to protect innocents, defend human rights, or safeguard the way of life of one’s own or other peoples; (2) competent authority: limiting the undertaking of war to a state’s legitimate rulers; (3) right intention: aiming only at peace and the ends of the just cause (and not war’s attendant suffering, death, and destruction); (4) proportionality: ensuring that anticipated good not be outweighed by bad; (5) last resort: exhausting peaceful alternatives before going to war; and (6) probability of success: a reasonable prospect that war will succeed. Jus in bellorequires: (7) proportionality: ensuring that the means used in war befit the ends of the just cause and that their resultant good and bad, when individuated, be proportionate in the sense of (4); and (8) discrimination: prohibiting the killing of noncombatants and/or innocents. Sometimes conditions (4), (5), and (6) are included in (1). The conditions are usually considered individually necessary and jointly sufficient for a fully just war. But sometimes strength of just cause is taken to offset some lack of proportion in means, and sometimes absence of right intention is taken to render a war evil though not necessarily unjust. Most just war theorists take jus ad bellum to warrant only defensive wars. But some follow earlier literature and allow for just offensive wars. Early theorists deal primarily with jus ad bellum, later writers with both jus ad bellum and jus in bello. Recent writers stress jus in bello, with particular attention to deterrence: the attempt, by instilling fear of retaliation, to induce an adversary to refrain from attack. Some believe that even though large-scale use of nuclear weapons would violate requirements of proportionality and discrimination, the threatened use of such weapons can maintain peace, and hence justify a system of nuclear deterrence.

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