FREGE

(1848 1925)

LOGICISM
Born in Wismar, where his father was Headmaster of a girls' school, Gottlob Frege was educated at the Universities of Jena and
Gttingen, studying mathematics, natural sciences, and philosophy. After gaining his doctorate at Gttingen in 1873 he returned to Jena
as a Privatdozent in mathematics and was appointed 'ausserordentlicher' professor in 1879 and 'full' professor in 1896. He was largely
neglected by the academic world (apart from Russell and Wittgenstein on both of whom he was a major influence); and the significance
of his pioneering work was not fully appreciated until the nineteen fifties.

PHILOSOPHY OF MATHEMATICS
[1] What are the foundations of mathematics? What are numbers? These are the questions that initially interested Frege. [See The
Foundations of Arithmetic.] He rejected 'psychologistic' and empiricist accounts of numbers as abstractions from our perceptions of
groups of objects, and the so-called 'formalist' and 'conventionalist' views that they are just arbitrary signs or marks on a page, perhaps
governed by rules of use, as in a game. And he disagreed with the claim that arithmetical truths are synthetic a pnon judgments (although
he considered that geometrical truths were) [a]. Each of the above three theories fails in one of these respects. Arithmetic, Frege argued,
must be in some sense objective and certain, and must of course be applicable to the world. This requires that the signs of arithmetic
must have some 'reference' just as we cannot talk about the application of, say, the pieces in a game of chess without having already
assigned some 'representative' function to them and the moves that may be made with them. His solution was to regard numbers as
applicable to concepts, that is, "objects of reason", which are subject to a criterion of identity [b]. This can be understood by means of
an example. The statement 'Jupiter's moons are four' should be interpreted as 'The number of Jupiter's moons is four'; and in this sentence
'the number of Jupiter's moons' and 'four' refer to identical objects. How then is number defined? Suppose we have two concepts A and
B, and that the objects covered by one concept correspond one-to-one to the things covered by the other. The number (as object)
belonging to A is then 'equinumerous', that is, the same as the number belonging to B. And 'having the same number' is to say that the
two concepts A and B have the same extension, that is, covers the same class of objects. The number 0, Frege adds, is the number which
belongs to the concept 'not identical with itself'. In this way he was led to the view that the definitions and laws of arithmetic could be
derived solely from the laws of logic. The truths of arithmetic are thus 'analytic' in so far as anayticity is defined by Frege as truths of
logic, or as truths which can be reduced to such truths through the use of definitions in logical terms. Synthetic truths, by contrast, are
not truths of logic [c].

PHILOSOPHY OF LOGIC AND LANGUAGE

[2] Frege was critical of what he saw as the limitations of traditional formal logic in that (1) not all judgements or propositions are of the
subject-predicate form, and (2) that the syllogism is not a universal pattern of logical inference. His development of formal logic showed
further that the grammar of ordinary language (on which traditional Aristotelian logic was based) is seriously misleading [a]. In his
earliest work ['Concept Script'] he had set out a comprehensive system of formal logic as a formalized language of pure thought, which
would exhibit what was essential to and underlying our discourse ('natural language') [b]. Frege is thus implicitly giving primacy to
'philosophy of language' as the means by which thought might be analysed. He is not concerned with philosophy as involving just ad
hoc or piecemeal clarification and elimination of errors. His approach can be seen from his analysis of predication, proper names, and
meaning in later articles.
(1) ['Function and Concept'] Consider a mathematical function, say ( ) 2+ 2( ). This, he says, is 'unsaturated' it cannot stand alone; it
needs an 'argument' x to make an algebraic sentence and complete the sense: x 2+ 2x. A predicative expression is like this. Thus ' is
round' has to be completed by a proper name (the argument), for example, 'the Earth'. The proper name relates to a concept. Names
cannot be used as predicates. As for the meaning of words, proper names (which for Frege include both ordinary names and definite
descriptions) 'mean' in so far as they refer to objects: but predicate expressions have meaning by virtue of the role they play in the
sentence [c].
(2) ['On Sense and Reference'] The form 'x is y' obscures some important distinctions. If I say, for example, 'Venus is the morning
star', the 'is' here is neither the 'is' of predication ('Venus is bright') nor the 'is' of existence (as in 'Venus exists') Frege shows clearly
that 'existence' is not a predicate but is the 'is' of identity, although the statement is contingent and known a posteriori [d]. I am not
attributing a quality to Venus but am asserting that 'Venus' (an ordinary name) and 'morning star' (a definite description) have the same
object. Now consider 'The morning star is the evening star' (or 'Phosphorus is Hesperus'). Again I am asserting an identity (though this
was not known to ancient astronomers). Yet 'morning star' and 'evening star' surely have a different sense. There is a problem here given
the view he held in earlier work [see Concept Script], namely, that identity is a relation between the signs or names themselves, whereas
we generally think of identity statements as saying something about the world. To deal with this he therefore now distinguished
between sense (Sinn) and reference (Bedeutung) ['On Sense and Reference']. The two names, though differing in sense, have the same
reference (or denotative meaning); they pick out the same object. They are said to be 'extensionally equivalent'. And sense 'determines'
reference. As for the sense of a name, Frege considers this to be given by a 'definite description' associated with that name and known by
the user [e]. To meet the objection that different people might apply different and subjective descriptions to a name, he said
that there are some descriptions which are 'public' and grounded in our language [f]. [See also 'The Thought'.] What of sentences as a
whole? They too, Frege says, must have both a sense and a reference. Suppose we say 'The morning star is a body illuminated by the
sun' and 'The evening star is a body illuminated by the sun'. These two sentences clearly have the same reference, but they express a
different 'idea' or 'thought'. ('It is raining' and the German sentence 'Es regnet': are different sentences but for Frege have the same
thought.) It is the Thought which constitutes the sense of the whole sentence. (And Frege considers the judgement as a functional unity,
and not just a linking of logically prior and separable terms.) What then of the reference? A reference is required if the sentence as a
whole is to be considered as being true or false. And Frege argues that the reference of a sentence is a truth-value the True or the
False. This thus belongs to the content or object of the sentence or proposition not to any mental act of judging [g]. The sense, or thought
of the sentence can then be further identified with the conditions which make it true. To understand a sentence, to know what it means, is
therefore to know what its truth-conditions are [h]. The thought (Gedanke), which can also be understood as 'proposition', is supposed
by Frege to occupy a realm of Sense or Meaning (together with numbers and classes). Meaning is thus analysable in 'internalist' or
'mentalist' terms. This realm is real but not in the same way that the physical realm of objects or the mental realm of subjective ideas and
images are [see 'The Thought]. (To the extent that propositions are expressed by sentences he also seems to consider them as composite
names) [i]. In the case of sentences containing names or definite descriptions which do not refer to any entity the sentence as a whole is
said to have no truth-value. For a name or definite description to be taken as having a reference, a denotatum must be presupposed as
existing [j]. Thus, 'The present King of France' cannot be said to be either true or false unless the existence now of a King of France is
presupposed. We can say it is meaningful in so far as when we communicate we assert it to be true. While assertion seems to be the
main function of utterances, Frege recognised ['Concept Script'] that sentences can also be used to formulate definitions, ask questions,
give commands, or tell stories. Sentences thus variously used are then said to have a different force. He also noted a third qualification
the 'colouring' (Frbung) of a sentence [k]. This refers to that part of a sentence's meaning which is not relevant to the determination
of its truth-value. [See 'On Sense and Reference'.]

CRITICAL SUMMARY
The impact of Frege on twentieth century philosophy was as great if less immediate as Descartes' philosophy was on the
seventeenth. Having rejected the psychologism of Mill and (probably) early Husserl he sought to ground mathematics in logic (albeit
unsuccessfully as it later turned out). But more importantly he revolutionized modern logic, offering a new account of predication and
quantification. He has also been a major influence on the philosophy of language. Central in his writings are his distinction between
sense and reference and his treatment of problems arising out of identity and predication. These and other issues have, however,
engendered a great deal of controversial discussion in recent years. Do we need sense as well as reference? Is meaning to be determined
by truth conditions? Does this commit us to some form of realism? Some philosophers have been critical of Frege's account of
predication. And some have tended to dismiss his emphasis on logical structures supposedly underlying informal language and have
argued in favour of the adequacy of the latter, linking it with assertion (as use of sentences) rather than on Frege's key concept of truth.
These matters continue to be much debated.

ROYCE
(1855 1916)

ABSOLUTE IDEALISM
Born in Grass Valley, California, Josiah Royce turned to philosophy after graduating in engineering from the University of California in
1875. He studied German philosophy at Leipzig and Gttingen and then carried out research under James and Peirce at Johns Hopkins,
gaining his Ph.D in 1878. After teaching English literature at the University of California from 1878-82 he became lecturer and then
professor of philosophy at Harvard (1892), finally occupying the Alford Chair in 1914. He was also Gifford lecturer at Aberdeen
(1900/01).

KNOWLEDGE/ METAPHYSICS
[1] Royce's absolute idealism can be understood as arising from his response to scepticism and error [see 'Kant's Relation to Modern
Philosophic Progress'; also 'The Possibility of Error' (in The Religious Aspect of Philosophy)]. We suppose there to be a real external
world of facts beyond our ideas or phenomena. But we recognise a 'gap' between this belief and the world; we cannot be sure the
belief is correct. However, we are all aware of error when our thought fails to conform to its intended object. In his early work he
argued against the view that immediate and present data of sense are structured by 'subjective' forms or categories. The transformation of
sensory data into objective knowledge requires transcendent principles validated ultimately by an 'Absolute knower' in the framework
of which alone our otherwise isolated actual and possible judgements can be situated, error distinguished from the true, and a totality of
experience comprising past, present, and future be constructed. We also recognise that different individuals may hold different moral
values and ideals. The Absolute must therefore be similarly invoked if moral relativism is to be overcome and the presence of evil and
suffering in the world made explicable [a].
These themes were developed in his philosophy of Being [see The World and the Individual especially 'The One, the Many and the
Infinite'], which is concerned to address the question what the world must be like if we are to know it. As a first step Royce distinguished
between two views of ideas. (1) Ideas as representations or cognitions are said to have external meanings. (2) But he also thinks of ideas
as internal in the sense that they are to be understood as partially expressing and fulfilling 'purposes' or 'will' [b]. He regards the internal
meanings of an idea as primary, in that our intentions and purposes determine what is to count as external or even constitute externality.
Internally ideas are incomplete. However, in so far as in their external meaning they point beyond themselves they effect the
development of the internal 'purpose' the striving of the idea to situate itself in the wider context culminating in the Absolute in
which perfect fulfilment would be realized. Thus each idea, while an 'individual', yet already contains implicitly the totality. From a
different standpoint we must think of truth and falsity only in terms of a relation (of coherence) to this total system of thought
culminating in the Absolute [c]. As he says, "All reality must be present to the unity of the Infinite Thought" [The Religious Aspect of
Philosophy, p. 433].
In support of his approach to Being Royce considers in turn what he considers to be the inadequacies of 'realism', 'mysticism', and
'critical rationalism' [d]. He understands realism as a dualist philosophy which is pluralistic but committed to the disconnection of the
knower from the known (which is external), a view he thinks which cannot account for knowledge. According to mysticism there is only
the One; all ideas and the knowing subject must therefore be regarded as illusory. Indeed, given this position, ideas and talk about the
One itself must be similarly illusory. As for critical rationalism (he has in mind both Kant and Mill), Royce says this defines 'possible
experience' in terms of what can be validated or verified (hypothetically, as it were) through reference to such universal 'conditions' or
'forms' as causal sequence, spatiality, temporality, and so on. However, he argues that this cannot define 'determinate individuality', for
which we need actual experience.
How then is plurality reconciled with unity? In contrast to the realist's notion of individuality, Royce understands the individual as that
which is fulfilling uniquely its ideas in the wider totality working out its purpose, we might say. Royce refers to the individual's "life
of experience" as pointing to the "absolute experience". But individuals are not isolated beings; we can know ourselves only in relation
to others. Royce here introduces his central concept of inter-subjectivity. We are aware of others initially in a primitive way. As we
acquire more experience we come to recognise and know others as utilizing the same external objects as we do in order to fulfil their
purposes, and we see them as expressions of the same Absolute Purpose [e]. The Absolute is the real unity of one and many, a self-
representative 'system', manifested as an actual recursive infinite series of the temporal events constituting the world (and known to the
Divine consciousness) [f], through which its will or purpose (the 'form' of the system) is revealed (as, for example, a complete map of a
country would have to include itself as a feature).

ETHICS/ PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

[2] The achieving of a proper understanding of the self is essentially a matter for ethics. In so far as each finite individual will seeks the
Absolute through its striving to fulfil its purposes or 'vocation', to achieve its ideals, it is 'defining', creating, realizing itself. The ' good' is
defined in terms of a conscious uniting of our individual will with that of the Absolute [a]; and moral rules are those which if followed
bring us closer to achieving that end. To the extent that we can will to recognise this obligation we are said to be free. Sin arises when we
consciously forget the 'ought': but Royce also seems to suggest that we are nevertheless responsible for our own inattention [b]. The
central concept in Royce's ethics is that of loyalty [see Philosophy of Loyalty]. This follows from his postulation of inter-subjectivity
(the 'Great Community') in the context of which the individual can set out to fulfil his purposes and achieve self-realization. He sees it
as the State's role to encourage individuals' recognition of this as their common goal, thereby bringing about a unity [c]. To the extent
that total fulfilment can be achieved only by reference to the Absolute Purpose or experience, Royce seems to be committed to some
form of post-death survival of the individual [d].
His Absolute, understood as infinite thought, consciousness, will, and purpose, can be regarded as Divinity [The Religious Aspect of
Philosophy] [e]. In his later work the Divine is identified with 'Spirit' or 'Interpreter' (this being identified with the third Person of the
Trinity), whose function is to bind together in love the various communities in the State under the embracing and redemptive protection
of the 'Beloved Community'. And he considers that individual members of the Community can themselves interpret and understand the
meaningfulness and purpose of the universe by means of 'signs'. He thus rejects pragmatic approaches to religious belief [f].
Royce also attempts to deal with the problem of evil. He does not deny the existence of suffering and other evils in the world, but he says
that because the world is a multiplicity in the Absolute Divine Unity God must suffer when individuals suffer. However, while for the
individual evil is a necessary feature of the world to be overcome so that perfection might be achieved, from the standpoint of God the
universe is already perfect[g].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Royce is important as the major representative of nineteenth century idealism in America. He postulates the Absolute, or Divinity as the
solution to the epistemological problems associated with scepticism and error and the ethical problem of moral relativism. He sees the
Absolute as that in which or though which the ideas and purposes of finite individuals are fulfilled. But notwithstanding the
impressiveness and range of his thought his system is open to serious difficulties.
(1) He holds the view that ideas correspond to intended external objects, yet he seems to subscribe to a coherence theory of truth when
considered from the standpoint of the Absolute or totality. These positions are not easily reconcilable. Some critics would also question
his account of the 'gap' between our ideas and beliefs in externality, and his subordination of 'external meanings' of ideas to their 'internal
meanings'.
(2) As for the Absolute, it is certainly debatable whether (a) Royce's arguments for it as the solution to error are valid, and (b) his ethics
is satisfactorily grounded in such a questionable metaphysics. Moreover (c), there is an unresolved tension between the Absolute and
finite individuality. Do individual personalities if they can be supposed to survive death remain distinct from the Absolute? Is the
Absolute itself Personality? Can evil be real in a universe considered to be perfect from the standpoint of God? Finally (d), does Royce's
Absolute Idealism successfully avoid both monism and dualism?

HUSSERL
(1859 1938)

PHENOMENOLOGY
Edmund Husserl was born into a Jewish family in Prosnitz, Moravia. He was educated at the Gymnasium in Olmitz and then studied
physics, mathematics, astronomy, and philosophy at the Universities of Leipzig, Berlin, and Vienna. After gaining his doctorate in 1882
he studied further in Vienna under Brentano, subsequently becoming a Privatdozent at Halle. From 1906-16 he
was ausserordentlicherprofessor at Gttingen, where he established the Phenomenological movement (though his relationships with his
colleagues were often strained). He moved to Freiburg as full professor in 1916 and remained there until his death, having retired from
teaching in 1928.

ONTOLOGY AND METHOD

[1] [gen 1] Two preliminary points should be made. (1) Husserl was not a systematic philosopher in the sense that he sought to construct
a system after the manner of, say, the German idealists. But closely integrated with his epistemology and his philosophy of language
there is a carefully worked out ontology grounded not in vacuous speculation but as he saw it firmly rooted in experience. (2) His
philosophy was always undergoing development. As he himself put it, "I am a perpetual beginner". But while his thought often seems to
have passed through a number of stages, much recent scholarship has tended to show that many of the ideas supposedly introduced in his
later writings were present, implicitly if not explicitly, in early work.
Husserl's phenomenology grew out of his early attempts to analyse and clarify the concepts of mathematics and logic [see Logical
Investigations I, 1st edn]. He initially espoused a 'psychologistic' approach, but he gradually came to reject this and instead held the view
that statements of mathematics and logic are necessary truths, associated with deductive inference, and constituting an a priori 'science'
(Wissenschaft), that is, field of knowledge; whereas statements of psychology are concerned with facts or events, are causal or probable,
and grounded in inductive arguments [a]. Mathematics as a formal axiomatic system is part of formal or symbolic logic, but both
together belong to 'pure logic', by which he understood a systematic structure of laws and theories grounded in quasi-Platonic ideal
categories of meaning [b]. This concept is closely connected with that of intentionality, by which he meant approximately
'directedness'. Husserl said that the experiences of our mental life (perceiving, imagining, judging, and so on) are episodic acts of
consciousness, mental or cognitive acts. Such acts both have a 'content' and are 'intentional' in the sense that they 'intend', are directed
towards some 'object' [c], even if in some instances, such as hallucinations, there is no external object. (Similarly physical actions can be
intentional.) Husserl regarded intentionality as constituting a relation between the subjective agent and the object and also supposed it to
be a kind of function or quality of the agent's act to perceive, imagine, and so on, in a particular way. Initially he distinguished between
the intended object, that is, the referent, or what we 'mean', and the content of the mental act in effect its 'sense' (though he said
that Sinn and Bedeutung in German are actually synonyms) [LI, 13]. Entities which have referents are expressions, and these include
names and sentences. The referents of sentences are 'states-of-affairs'. And he argues (i) that expressions can have different senses and
yet refer to the same object, and (ii) that a give word with the same sense can refer to different referents. He made a further distinction
between the real content and the ideal content. The 'real' content consists of 'matter' (that which makes the act a presentation
[Vorstellung]) and 'quality' (that which makes the act a certain type such as a judgement, or a question). The 'ideal' content, however,
is a 'species', an ideal entity, of which, Husserl says, the real content is an instantiation [d]. (In the intentional mode of 'signifying', logic
and mathematics are concerned with special sorts of meanings 'ideal singulars', which include 'nominal' meanings as objects of acts of
presentation, 'sentential' meanings, and 'states of affairs' intended by acts of judgement.)
[2] Underlying this early account of language and mental acts is a commitment to an ontology (what there 'is'). And throughout the first
decade of the twentieth Husserl was seeking to develop a general 'realist' 'transcendental phenomenology' which (1) would comprehend
all aspects or modes of conscious experience; (2) would thereby reveal a formal ontology of fundamental categories; and (3) would
constitute "philosophy as rigorous science" [see the essay of this title]. Such a 'science' would facilitate the placing of both the natural
and the human sciences on a firm basis, under the unifying category of the understanding [a], which would take account of the
constitutive and explicative role played by 'subjectivity' in our experience while avoiding the errors of other contemporary approaches to
philosophy. Thus he attacked (1) materialism and reductionalist phenomenalism (the analysis of physical objects exclusively in terms of
sensory impressions and ideas, and not to be confused with his own method of reduction); (2) 'scientist' theories, such as positivism and
naturalism, which take it for granted that there is an objective world but fail to ask the question whether knowledge of it is possible, and
which, Husserl argued, lead to scepticism; (3) 'historicism', which had originally impressed him but which he now found to be
inconsistent in that cultural relativists assumed the existence of absolute truths in the very process of denying them. (4) speculative
idealism and generally irrationalist philosophies [b].
To achieve his ideal of 'scientific rigour' in his phenomenology Husserl combined his account of intentionality with what he called the
method of transcendental-phenomenological reduction [see Idea of Phenomenology and Ideas I]. This method was grounded in the
activity of 'bracketing' (epoch) [first worked out in 1905; see Ideas I, 27]. In a non-reflective mode we accept our mental experiences as
relating to, or being about the world. However, we can reflect philosophically and raise the question whether or not these objects which
we 'intend' and suppose to exist actually do exist. In bracketing our experiences we suspend belief in the actual existence of intended
objects be they physical objects, persons, minds, propositions, or meanings. (This is not, however, intrinsically a 'sceptical'
position) [c]. We are thus led back ('re-duced') to the intrinsic experiences themselves. This is what Husserl means when he says he
wants to get "to the things themselves" (zu den Sachen selbst) a 'thing' being an intuition (Anschauung), namely, that which is
immediately given to us in experience, be it sensory or otherwise, as a consequence of which we can see what the designating word or
expression for the thing actually signifies [see, for example, Logical Investgns, I, ch. 2, 21; see also II, part 1, passim]. Through an
imaginative consideration or intuition of how appearances of things might be varied we can then come to discover 'eidetically' their
'invariant general structures', that is, the essences (Wesen) of things. Intuition for Husserl is a kind of non-empirical pure seeing not
like the seeing or perceiving of physical objects but more like the gaining of insight into or apprehension of what is directly given to
thought in a mental act [d]. A description of both these structures and the consciousness which 'intends' them can then be
attempted. Husserl's rigorous phenomenological philosophy is thus an eidetic science; and while descriptive it is not to be thought of as a
descriptive psychology which is concerned with cognitive processes as such [e]. But in Cartesian Meditations [39-40] he in fact talks of
it as a "phenomenology of genesis through which [alone] the ego becomes understandable", the problems of phenomenology being
reduced to the title "the (static and genetic) constitution of objectivities of possible consciousness".
[3] Husserl's ontology, initially set out in the Logical Investigations and then in Ideas I, was more systematically developed in Ideas II
and III. He distinguished three realms: of Essence, Fact, and Meaning.
(1) The realm of Essence. This is a realm of 'ideal' entities, which are necessary, non-spatial and non-temporal. This realm contains
formal essences and material essences [a]. The study of formal essences is the field of formal ontology; and this applies to formal
essences or categories of all objects or entities constituting the world individuals, properties, states of affairs, events, as well as
linking categories such as truth and identity. Together with formal logic, which is concerned with linguistic categories (name, predicate,
statement, for example) and meaning categories (concepts, propositions), formal ontology makes up Husserl's Logic in a wide sense
as a unifying science of interconnected necessary truths [b]. Material essences belong to the field of material ontology. And both formal
and material ontology, as well as mathematics and logic, are what Husserl calls the eidetic sciences. Material essences are allocated to
three regions Nature, Living-World (Spirit, Geist, Humanity), and Consciousness (each of which of course has its own formal
essence). These regions are the highest genera in Husserl's structure: they contain species and sub-species in hierarchical dependence.
Thus, Nature as the highest material species contains the essences Material Thing, Plant, Animal; humanity contains the species of
Cultural Entities, for example, ideas, values, books, works of art, and so on, as well as of course human persons; while Consciousness
includes such species as Perception, Belief, Judgement, Imagination.
(2) The realm of Fact of concreteness, spatiality and temporality [c]. Each and all of the essences are, according to Husserl,
instantiated in this realm as (a) individuals (which are made up of instances of species, qualities, relations all these being dependent
entities which he calls moments); (b) states-of-affairs; (c) events and experiences [c]. Whereas essences belong to the ideal realm,
instantiations are concrete. All form the subject matter of the empirical sciences: physics, chemistry, and biology study Nature; the social
sciences deal with the Human or Living-World; while phenomenology is the science of Consciousness and Intentionality. A given human
individual can be investigated within Nature by reference (a) to its physical body and soul moments; (b) within the region of Living-
World in terms of its Living Body and Human 'I moments'; while (c) in the region of Consciousness the 'self' can be treated
phenomenologically as the 'Pure I' or Transcendental Ego [d].
(3) The Realm of Meaning (Sinn) [e]. Belonging to this realm (which, like the realm of essences, is ideal) are the contents of intentional
experiences or acts. These are the subject matter of phenomenological reflection. They include the 'senses' of all essences individuals,
predicational senses of species, qualities, relations; and also propositions and senses of states-of-affairs. Husserl makes it clear
that meanings or senses are not themselves essences; they exist rather, it would seem, as a function of human consciousness interacting
with raw matter (hyle) and the realm of essences. They have some kind of reality and are regarded as temporal but non-spatial. In this
later stage of Husserl's thought meanings or 'senses' (Sinne) are no longer considered as species [see sec. 1d] but as contents of
intentional acts of consciousness; and this includes both linguistic and non-linguistic acts. Already [Lectures 1908] he had distinguished
between the noesis, or noetic 'moment' of an act, and its noema. The noesis is what he had previously termed the real content.
The noema is the intentional content [e], that is, not the abstract object which we suppose to be the real object of intentionality but the
'object-as-intended meant precisely as meant'. Intentional objects, in addition to having sense, are also accorded a 'thetic' aspect which
determines what type of experience it is whether perceptual, judgemental, orectic (that is, appertaining to desire), and so on.
[4] In his later work [Cartesian Meditations and Crisis of European Sciences] he modified his phenomenological method further. While
formerly it was a description of a separate realm of being [see sec 2] he now regarded it as a reflection and description of what he called
criteria for the 'coherence' of our experiences. Knowledge of these criteria gives us a further condition for the definition of 'phenomenon'
and the making of statements about phenomena understood by reference to the 'appropriateness' of intentional acts, that is, whether it is
congruous to perform certain kinds of actions in a particular situation (putting food out for a god, for example), or to believe certain sorts
of statements (they may be non-sensical). In general it is an empirical matter to determine whether purposive actions or acts about
intentional objects are or are not adequate. But Husserl also says that although individual acts may be coherent they may not collectively
constitute a coherent series in that a given action or belief may occur in a different context from another in the sequence. So he now
suggests that a further job of phenomenology is to undertake an 'intentional analysis' to clarify the relations between acts; and he sees
this as being revealed through what he calls 'horizons' of intentional acts. If a statement can provide a criterion of coherence in this way,
then it is a statement about a phenomenon or phenomena. Phenomenology thus ceases to be concerned with providing foundations for
the various mathematical and empirical sciences and becomes more 'critical' (in a roughly Kantian sense), in that 'reflection' is now
directed towards identifying and uncovering the necessary conditions for adequacy and coherence [a]. And Husserl goes even further
still in suggesting that the primary function of the phenomenological method is to investigate what he calls the life-world (Lebenswelt).
This is the world we are perceptually acquainted with and live through. It is also now seen to be the 'world' from which the physical
sciences originate and on which they are dependent. Indeed if we are to acquire scientific knowledge an understanding of
the Lebenswelt is a prerequisite [b].

PSYCHOLOGY/ PHILOSOPHY OF MAN

[5] In his early Logical Investigations Husserl had rejected the concept of an ego which is its own object, which, as it were, constitutes
itself, or one which is pure or substantial, and a noumenal 'thing-in-itself'. He dismisses also the crude empiricist notion of the self as but
a set or series of phenomena ('bundles of perceptions'). However, in the second edition he postulated a 'pure' ego which is not only
empirical (as embodied) but also 'transcendental', in the sense that its 'essence' is 'instantiated': we apprehend it in the cogito as the
subject of our thinking by means of our application of the phenomenological reduction in the performance of an intentional act. And
it would seem also from the second edition (and from Ideas I) that this transcendental ego or pure consciousness whose existence
Husserl regarded as indubitable is now seen as thefoundation of the world of experience, all other things existing relative to it [a].
This latter position has led to the questionable characterization of Husserl's philosophy as idealist as contrasted with a realist
interpretation according to which there are objects existing independently of mind and to which we have direct access. He denied he was
a subjective idealist in the Berkeleyan sense, but he accepted that his philosophy could be described as transcendental idealism, though
this phrase too is ambiguous. Nevertheless he was already aware of difficulties with his account which would seem to attribute an
independent existence to the transcendental ego as separable from the empirical self. Indeed, at times he seemed to regard the
transcendental ego as if it were an independent entity which would remain in existence even if the whole world (and thus including one's
empirical self) were to be destroyed. He therefore came to modify his thesis and redefined the transcendental ego, arguing that it
is correlative to the world rather than having an absolute existence. This view was already implicit not only in Cartesian Meditations but
also in the earlier unpublished Ideas II, and was eventually fully articulated in his Crisis of European Sciences and Transcendental
Philosophy. Similarly the phenomenal world itself became the correlate of the "intersubjective community" of individuals instead of
being that which exists in a transcendental phenomenological reduction of a given individual [b].
Husserl's developing positions in relation to the transcendental ego and the phenomenal world (to which the body belongs) are reflected
also in his account of freedom. He initially argues that consciousness is causally detached from the world [Ideas I, 49]. But he later
[Ideas II] supposes that the body is in some sense already integrated into the the world's causality in so far as it is itself a self-motivating
mover; or [Crisis, 62] that the ego experiences itself as a 'living body', that is as a system of organs which it activates Husserl talks of
the ego as acting through the body's 'holding-sway' over its surroundings. Freedom is thereby intrinsic[c].
[6] His final position [in Crisis] would seem to be approximately as follows. An actual, concrete, individual human being is a free, that
is, self-motivating unitary organism but it is considered as having different 'aspects', that is, conceptually abstractable dependent
'moments' which are instantiations in the realm of fact of the three regions of essences [a]. Thus, (1) in Nature we have the animate
organism studied by natural science (a) as physical body or material thing (Krper) and (b) as psychological ego; (2) in the Life-World
man is treated as actively engaged in the social-cultural world of human relations, ethics, the arts, religion, and so on as (a) concrete
'soul' and 'living-body' (Leib), and (b) the social 'I' or 'mundane ego', characterized by 'spirituality'; (3) as Consciousness there is the ideal
essence the pure or transcendental ego itself, which Husserl considered to be the subject of experiences, dispositions or 'habitualities',
intentional acts and actions. His transcendental ego is neither a thinking substance in which thoughts inhere nor the stream of thoughts
themselves. And it is therefore neither substantial nor separable in the Cartesian manner [b]. He argued further (from 1909) that the
transcendental ego as such is not spatio-temporal (consisting of separate 'past', 'now', and 'future' apprehensions of time as such the
view he had held from 1901-7) but is to be conceived of as a 'flow' which is itself the source which constitutes temporality itself [c].

THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE
[7] [See especially Logical Investigations II, vi; Ideas I, iv.] In what ways are things known? Husserl made the following distinctions.
(1) Within the realm of Fact we know the material things and events belonging to the realm of Nature, including ourselves and other
people (as 'moments' of physical body, psyche or soul) by means of sensory intuition and the constituting consciousness. The objects,
Husserl says, are prescribed by the sense or meaning content of intentional experience, that is through noemata. The notion of a thing 'in
itself' is therefore superfluous [Ideas I, 47] [a]. Our knowledge of others as living bodies, their activities and experiences, is gained
through an understanding of their rational and emotional motivations; and this requires empathy. This is fundamental to the human
sciences [b]. He also says that we can have original intuitions of values in the world which then inform our motivations [c]. The pure or
transcendental ego, however, as instantiation of the essence Pure Ego, is not directly intuitable, but qua subject of consciousness is
reached through transcendental reflection [d].
(2) All essences instantiated in the three realms of fact, life-world and consciousness are known through eidetic intuition and
eidetic variation [e].
(3) Meanings or senses (the actual noematic contents of experiences) and also acts of consciousness are known through the bracketing
process and then phenomenological reduction [f].
It would therefore seem to follow that knowledge of the empirical self or ego as such and within the realm of fact (the 'pure I' moments)
can be known only as a complex series of the noemata themselves and thus through phenomenological reflection. Husserl also says
that we as egos can be aware of our experiencing (as contrasted with our awareness of the intentional contents the noemata of
experience): he calls this 'apperception' [g]. (This is not to be confused with perception which is directed towards the intentional object
as prescribed by the sense or meaning aspect of the noemata.)
How then does intuition constitute knowledge? Knowing is itself a mental act which is realized in the relation between acts of thought
and what he terms 'fulfilling intuitions' [Investigations II, vi]. The key term 'fulfilment' needs to be clarified. Suppose I am thinking
about my pen (an intentional act of thinking). If I actually come to perceive the pen, here in front of me on the table, my thought is said
to be fulfilled through this empirical or perceptual intuition. Knowledge is thus a mental state realized in our awareness of a relation
between the act of thought and its fulfilling empirical intuition, a recognition of the identity of the object of thought and the object of
perception [h].
Husserl allows degrees of knowing, three kinds of evidence or "originally giving" [Cartesian Meditations, 6] [i].
(1) Certainty. In everyday experience we perceive feel surfaces, see trees, hear birds (though generally perception is more usually
used to refer specifically to vision). In general we do not doubt either that we are having this experience or that. It is indeed the tree we
are seeing, the bird we are hearing. Such experiences possess the characteristic of certainty. This is not to say that mistakes are not
possible.
(2) Apodicticity. Apodictic evidence is stronger than certain evidence and is applicable to what is absolutely indubitable in a way that
our perception of the tree is not. For his criterion Husserl seems to be thinking here of something like Descartes' claim to have certain
("clear and distinct") knowledge of himself as a consciousness of thinking substance though he does not subscribe to Cartesian
metaphysics. (Earlier [see Logical Investigns I, 2nd edn, note to 6], however, he would seem to have regarded the cogito as only
adequately self-evident.)
(3) Evidence is said to be 'adequate'. This seems to relate to the notion of fulfilment introduced in the Investigations [see sec. 7h ]. When
we look at the tree we see particular aspects of it. However, perceptually the experience is open to further possibilities ('horizons',
'variations'): there is a back to the tree whose colour and shape we do not see at the moment but could do so if we moved round it. If we
were in a position to perceive the totality of the possibilities, our intendings and meanings would be completely fulfilled and our
knowledge would be said to be adequate. (Clearly this term does not have the usual sense of sufficiency.) Now if we apply these grades
of evidence to each of the modes of intuition we find that not all standards are met. Perception, as just indicated, is not adequate; neither
is it apodictic; but it is (usually) certain. Phenomenological reflection, however, in general satisfies all three criteria (though Husserl is
not always consistent here, particularly in his analysis of our acts of consciousness in relation to the life-world).
[8] In Husserl's last writings [The Crisis in European Sciences; implicit also in Ideas II] it is the 'pre-given' living-world and our
commonsense awareness of the external world of intersubjectivity that he takes as his starting-point; and it is from this, through
phenomenological reduction, that philosophy is established as a rigorous science, the natural sciences can be constructed as an
abstraction, and reconciliation between the natural and human sciences achieved [a].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Although Husserl's philosophy was constantly undergoing change and development, there are a number of key features which are
generally to be found throughout his writings: (1) his use of Brentano's modification of the medieval concepts of intentionality and
'intended' (as against 'material') objects'; (2) his method of 'bracketing' and transcendental-phenomenological reduction; and (3) the
'intuition' of essences. (His last period also saw the introduction of the influential concepts of the 'life-world' and coherence though
these too have been shown to have originated in in much earlier writings.) Nevertheless, his philosophy as a whole is inherently
ambiguous; and much recent scholarship has centred on two interconnected issues: whether he should be regarded as a commonsense
realist or as a transcendental idealist, and whether his epistemology should be understood in 'foundationalist' terms.
The relationship of his philosophy to Descartes is central in this dispute. Arguably a merit of Husserl's account of a transcendental ego as
neither a thinking substance in which thoughts inhere nor the stream of thoughts themselves is that it avoids the problems raised by
Descartes' cogito. And some commentators have argued that he goes beyond Descartes with his concept of intentionality as a nexus of
noesis (act) and noema (content) (which leads to knowledge of the intentional object), his notion of eidetic reduction, and the intuition of
ideal essences. It follows that he is a transcendental idealist in that (a) the physical world is constituted by the mind on a foundation of
immanence (sensations as the phenomenal content of intentionally directed mental acts); (b) the constituting consciousness is the pure
transcendental ego; (c) the empirical, psychological ego is the consciousness which is constituted by the transcendental ego and is part of
the constituted world as a dependent moment of human nature. Thus, although his conception of consciousness and his foundationalist
programme differ in some respects from Descartes', he remained a Cartesian. And certainly Husserl himself, at least in his earlier work,
accepted the description of his philosophy as transcendental idealism, though he denied it was a subjective idealism in the way he
supposed Berkeley's to be.
As against this view, some other scholars have claimed that Husserl's philosophy should not be interpreted in Cartesian terms at all. It
has been suggested that in the admittedly later Cartesian Meditations but implicit in earlier writings he is concerned primarily with
the working out of a phenomenology of one's experience of oneself and the natural world. It is mistaken to suppose that he raises
apodictic certainty to the level of an ideal requirement. Husserl is not engaged in such a quest. He recognises degrees of evidence and
knowledge, and allows that intuitions are revisable revisability being also a feature of his concept of 'horizon'. On this interpretation,
then, we can say Husserl was not seeking a foundation for knowledge in the phenomenal content of mental acts still less in an
absolute certainty such as was claimed by Descartes for his cogito (which, as Husserl correctly pointed out, did not meet Descartes' own
apodictic requirements). It can been argued further that Husserl's notion of foundation was in any case ontological rather than
epistemological, though there is (in Investigations VI) interaction between the two aspects in that acts of eidetic intuition are founded on
lower-level acts involving sensory content. (They refer to what is called by some philosophers in the analytic tradition as sense-data or
sensibilia.) Finally, one must have regard to the later shift towards an emphasis on the 'pre-given' life world and our commonsense
awareness of the external world of intersubjectivity that Husserl takes as his starting-point. Perhaps then Husserl may be regarded
correctly as a foundationalist in his theory of knowledge but that the nature of the 'foundations' changed from something approximating
to what philosophers working in the earlier 'analytic' tradition termed sense-data or sensibilia to the something more like Wittgenstein's
'scaffolding' of ordinary discourse and experience. However, the tension between the two interpretations remains unresolved.
The precise status of Husserl's phenomenological statements (that is, the various 'conditions') has also been frequently questioned. (We
may compare this with the similar problem encountered by the logical positivists' verification principle.) They are supposedly non-
empirical and yet necessarily true a priori. It has been said that they cannot be a priori, because the conditions laid down for phenomena
and intentional acts may not be universal. In a different culture it may not be possible within the corresponding limits and conditions to
distinguish true from false statements. An alternative view, however, is that they may be taken to be a priori in so far as they are
necessary as preconditions for the truth and falsity of statements about phenomena. What Husserl says in his Ideas for a Pure
Phenomenology would seem to support such an interpretation (approximately Kantian).
Notwithstanding these conflicting views perhaps indeed because of them Husserl remains as one of the most significant thinkers of
the twentieth century. As the originator of phenomenology he was a major influence on a large number of European philosophers
including Heidegger, Scheler, Ortega y Gasset, Jaspers, Sartre, Merleau-Ponty, Gadamer, and Ricoeur.

BERGSON
(1859 1941)

EVOLUTIONARY DUALISM
Henri Bergson was born in Paris, the son of a musician. Although his family was Jewish he converted to Roman Catholicism in later life.
He was educated at the Lyce Condorcet and at the cole Normale Suprieure, his studies including both science and the classics. After
graduating in 1881 he taught for a number of years in various lyces. In 1897 he was appointed a professor at the cole Normale and
then at the Collge de France, where he remained until 1924. After the First World War he worked actively for the League of Nations. In
1914 he was elected to the French Academy and in 1927 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature.

METAPHYSICS/ KNOWLEDGE
[1] [See Creative Evolution and Introduction to Metaphysics.] Bergson's philosophy starts from a consideration of a contrast between
'positivist' science, which deals with the material world, and metaphysics, whose concern is with 'spirit'. He is critical of science in so far
as it is analytical and seeks to reduce physical objects to simpler parts such as atoms. He therefore regards it as 'distorting' our experience
of the 'real'. He likewise criticizes philosophical systems for their abstractionist tendencies and remoteness from the actual world in
which we live. Metaphysics, or 'pure' philosophy, on the other hand, deals with direct and undistorted awareness of reality [a]. The
contrast between the two approaches is seen particularly in his discussion of time. In our inner, spiritual experience we grasp real time as
'pure duration'. The scientist, however, deals with mathematical time, treats it 'spatially', breaks it up into parts. This again is brought
about by the intellect's distortion of the world. Bergson thinks of pure duration as an expression of the inner self, whereas our experience
of time as fragmented is a characteristic of our 'superficial' self [b]. Nevertheless, he does not seek to reject science altogether. Science,
he says, makes use of intelligence, while metaphysics is based onintuition. And we need both, because intelligence provides us with the
means to conceptualize our intuitions in language, while science enables us to control our world and to cope with the demands of
ordinary life[c]. How then can the analytical and fragmenting nature of both scientific enquiry and the language we use to articulate our
experience of the material world be reconciled with a metaphysic which purports to be grounded in a direct awareness of a continuous
and enduring yet qualitatively changing reality? This problem is encountered in a number of contexts in Bergson's philosophy the
conflict between mind and body, the nature of the self, freedom and determinism, and in his ethics and account of religion.
[2] With respect to the mind-body problem [see Matter and Memory], he rejects both epiphenomenalism (the theory that mind is a kind
of 'extra' produced by the brain but which plays no causal role in our experience or behaviour) and identity theories [a] (which regard
mental and physical processes as but different ways of talking about the same 'thing'). Central to his own essentially dualistic view is the
concept of memory. He distinguishes two kinds. (1) 'Mechanistic' memory: this is a "closed system of automatic movements which
succeed one another in the same order and occupy the same time". He understands it as a kind of bodily habit or disposition, which does
not involve any mental images or representations. It is associated with the view of time as discrete, fragmented, successive . (2) 'Pure'
memory, on the other hand, does consist of representations, and records and stores the events of our daily lives. It is spiritual and belongs
to a part of the mind which exists below consciousness. And it belongs to pure duration [b]. The brain's function, Bergson says, is to
monitor and bring out of store into full representatational consciousness only those recollections which can be relevant to and can be
used in action. Action of course also calls on our habits for its implementation. But pure memory is not reducible to mechanistic
memory. Neither is the totality of content of the 'infra-conscious' brought to consciousness at a given moment. Bergson thus supposes his
theory to have avoided both materialist epiphenomenalism and identity or psycho-physical parallelism.
[3] It is in terms of the concept of action that Bergson offers an account of perception [Matter and Memory]. Again he makes a
distinction this time between 'pure' perception and actual or 'concrete' perception. Pure perception is to be understood solely in terms
of 'virtual action', that is, a preparedness of the brain states (as 'subject') for action in relation to external objects. By concrete perception
he means a synthesis of pure perception (from the side of matter) and pure memory (from the side of spirit). Body and soul are thus
brought together in action [a]. What then of the problem of freedom? [See Time and Free Will.] Is not the body as explained in scientific
terms subject to causal determinism? Bergson refers again to his distinction between self as pure duration and the 'superficial' self. To the
extent we can "get back into pure duration", "gain possession of ourself', we act freely and creatively. But we remain determined in so far
as we are acted on, for example, mechanically or socially [b].
[4] In his main work, Creative Evolution, Bergson presents his own account of evolution and attempts to brings all these various ideas
into harmony with it. He rejects the supposedly mechanistic theory of Darwin and his emphasis on natural selection and 'fitness' as the
determining factor in the survival of species, and argues in favour of a vital force (lan vital). We are aware of this, he says, in our inner
lives, in that we experience ourselves as agents with the capacity to organize, control, and overcome the 'resistance' of 'inert' matter. This
vital force is found throughout life in all its manifestations [a], and gives rise to three levels or tendencies: plant life, instinctive life, and
intelligent, rational life. These categories are not mutually exclusive but are found together in varying degrees in all life forms. But in
plants insensibility and immobility are primary features; consciousness predominates in animals the highest species exhibiting
intelligence as well as instinct. Instinct is a faculty for using and constructing the organism itself; while intelligence enables an organism
to make use of 'artificial instruments', that is, tools. Considered from the historical point of view, man is thus homo faber rather
than homo sapiens.
[5] Bergson goes on to argue that we can extrapolate from the intuition we have of ourselves as free creative agents to a view of the
universe as a whole as a creative process of 'perpetual becoming', which is continuously 'making' and 'unmaking' itself [a], both leaping
forward through the emergence of new species and falling back relatively in the perpetuation of the same species. On balance, however,
the process is progressive. Now there would seem to be a problem here in that, given his account of intellect or intelligence as primarily
geared to action, it is difficult to see how Bergson can be said to know in an undistorted way the reality of the universe as an evolutionary
process. To deal with this he says that in the course of evolution instinct becomes conscious of itself, capable of reflection on its object.;
and this in turn splits into intelligence and intuition [b]. These two facets of the human organism then work together: intuition provides
the content for intelligence-in-action, while this latter is monitored or checked by intuition, and is thereby prevented from falling into
abstraction and producing a distorted and fragmented picture of the real world.

PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION
[6] [See Creative Evolution and Two Sources of Morality and Religion.] Corresponding to his 'dualism' between intuition and
intellect, Bergson distinguishes two types of religion. (1) Static religion originates with primitive man. It is grounded in conventionally
accepted myths and appeals to a divine being as the source of authority, who lays down what is permissible and punishes transgressors.
Dynamic religion, on the other hand, is mystical. In actual practice human religion involves both static and dynamic aspects as
interpenetrating each other. Bergson thinks of them as receptive of and directed towards the creative power of the universe as expressed
through the progressive evolutionary process. This creative power or vital force Bergson thinks of as 'supra-consciousness', perhaps even
to be identified with God. Later, however, he tended to think of it in terms of divine love rather than the divinity Himself [a].

ETHICS
[7] [See Creative Evolution, 2nd edn, and Two Sources.] Static and dynamic religion are seen by Bergson to be respectively 'infra-
intellectual/rational' and 'supra-intellectual'. These descriptions are equally applicable to what he calls 'closed' (or static) and 'open'
(dynamic) morality, both of which offer alternative explanations for our motivation to act morally. Bergson rejects practical reason or the
'categorical imperative' as the source of man's sense of obligation. He says that in the static society it originates from the influence or
'pressure' exercised on individuals by society. In general we conform to the norms of the closed society naturally and unreflectingly, in
so far as we have a 'social self'. We feel the sense of obligation when we experience society as offering us 'resistance'. Open morality
concerns the direct relation of human beings to each other or to an 'ideal' society not yet attained, and is grounded in universal love
the consequence of the mystical relationship to God. The drive or motivation for action therefore lies not in social obligation but in the
emotional vital force of individual will [a]. As in his account of religion, Bergson recognises that both kinds of morality may be present
simultaneously in a particular society. And while the static and dynamic tendencies are in a sense in opposition, they are also necessary
to each other. Through the mediation of reason closed morality is made more universal and open. At the same time the ideals of open
morality are restrained or controlled the aim being the realization of a truly human society in which social obligation is transformed
through man's participation in the divine life. In either type of society, however, obligation presupposes man's freedom [b].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Bergson's philosophy is of interest for a number of reasons. (1) He contrasts positivist mechanistic and 'distorting' science with a spiritual
or intuitive metaphysics which relates to the 'inner self' and is based on a pure 'undistorted' awareness of the real; and he exhibits this
contrast in his distinction between time as respectively (a) 'spatially fragmented' and (b) pure duration, a flow of consciousness. (2) He
blends his views in general with an account of the universe as a (non-Darwinian) evolutionary process. (3) He emphasizes action as a
manifestation of 'vital force', by reference to which he attempts to provide a treatment of Cartesian dualism which avoids materialist and
identity theories. This modified dualism runs through his philosophy as a whole, exhibited in such polarities as vital-static, intuition-
intelligence, creative/mystical-mechanistic, free-determined.
From the critical point of view the obvious question is whether the opposing elements in each polarity are genuinely harmonizable with
each other. Moreover, it can be objected that it is not clear how, if at all, the dualisms are to be integrated within the vital evolutionary
process. The test for Bergson is not scientific. So what is the basis of the metaphysical process? How does it relate to his concept of a
God? Many commentators have objected that Bergson does not really provide adequate analysis or argument. He has a tendency to be
carried away by fancy; his language is often unclear and poetic. The concept of the lan vital is itself an all-embracing one, but arguably
it is illegitimate to extend it to different spheres.

DEWEY
(1859 1952)

PRAGMATISM
John Dewey was born in Burlington, Vermont, where his father was in the grocery business. He was at school there before entering the
University of Vermont. After three years teaching in high school he became a graduate student of philosophy at Johns Hopkins
University, gaining his doctorate in 1884. He subsequently taught at the University of Michigan, and in 1894 was appointed professor of
philosophy and chairman of the department of philosophy, psychology, and pedagogy at Chicago. In 1904 he moved to Columbia
University. He was the author of a large number of books and articles on a wide range of subjects which gained him an international
reputation.

METHODOLOGY/ LOGIC AND KNOWLEDGE

[1] In his earliest period Dewey was strongly attracted to Hegel's thought, with its commitment to the idea of the unity and
interconnectedness of all things as manifestations of the Absolute. However, he soon moved away from idealism, appealing instead to
biology and the human sciences, placing more emphasis on man's emotional life instead of its cognitive and reflective aspects, and
developing a pluralist approach in place of monism. Nevertheless, a residual influence of Hegelianism is evident in the 'organicist' and
dynamic aspects [a] of his mature philosophy. Central to this [see especially Experience and Nature and Logic: The Theory of Enquiry]
is his 'instrumentalist' view of thought. This refers to the way that man, faced by problems hazardous situations arising from his
confrontation with the environment, is able to work out a suitable project of enquiry as a plan for action to enable him to deal with them
and attain security. Dewey's account of thought is thus both naturalistic and empirical. It is the former in the sense that it is to be
understood as an activity originating from the relationship of an organism to the environment. It is empirical in that thinking both starts
from experience and terminates in it when it takes control of or alters the environment. Thought and practice are thus closely
interconnected [b]. Now thinking involves concepts, propositions, and arguments, for which logic supplies the symbolization. Logic too
must therefore be understood in instrumentalist terms. So, while acknowledging the greatness of Aristotelian logic as a formal system,
Dewey says a new "logic of enquiry" is needed which can be applied to science and other fields. He defines this enquiry as the
controlled or directed transformation of an indeterminate situation into one that is so determinate in its constituent distinctions and
relations as to convert the elements of the original situation into a unified whole.
Three stages are identified:
(1) The individual experiences a "felt difficulty". Dewey calls this "the antecedent condition of enquiry".
(2) The individual needs to deal with the problem and considers possible responses. He formulates in imagination appropriate
hypotheses, which in complicated situations may have to be refined and combined with deductive reasoning.
(3) The proposed hypotheses are then tested out to see if they solve the problem. Dewey says that thought thereby produces "concrete
reconstruction of antecedent conditions of existence". It is thus predictive open to verification in its consequences [c].
[2] This approach provides Dewey with the basis for his radical view of knowledge and truth [see Logic]. Traditionally it had been
supposed (by both realists and empiricists) that there are certain or indubitable truths which constitute a foundation for all of our
knowledge. Dewey criticizes this. Bare immediate experience is only the starting-point and is non-cognitve and an "unanalysed totality",
devoid of all distinctions, such as, for example, that of subject-object. It is only when we start to reflect that division is introduced and an
experience comes to be given significance in relation to its functions. In this respect it can then become an object of knowledge. To know
is to bestow significance in the light of the enquiry directed towards the experience. Dewey thus rejects theories of knowledge which
treat the knower as a 'spectator' of objects and which disregard the effects on them of the very process of knowing . According to
him, knowledge as practical 'intelligence' makes its objects, "interrogates nature", and thereby brings about changes in the
environment "successful practice" being judged in terms of the outcome. He sees the acquisition of knowledge as requiring practical
and social 'skill' but he has regard also for the contribution that must be sought from the experimental sciences [a]. Truth is likewise to
be defined as 'absolute fixity of belief' with reference to consequences, that is, the end which a proposition or hypothesis leads to. A
hypothesis is considered to 'work' to the extent that it overcomes the relevant 'problem'. However, Dewey thinks of true statements as
intrinsically fallible and that 'truth' should be understood not so much in terms of 'satisfaction' but as the " warranted assertibility" of a
belief 'warranted' in so far as it is in accordance with the ideal limit towards which scientific investigation is carrying us [b]. Dewey
thereby preserves a view of truth as 'objective', in that it relates to problems in the actual world. But he rejects the notion of an absolute
or eternal 'metaphysical' truths [c] except to the extent that they may be regarded as having an invariant functional rather than any
ontological value, in so far as they help us to know the one changing world.
Dewey's method is to be applied not just in the physical sciences. Human experience includes feelings, desires, as well as thoughts; and
the environment in which man operates is cultural as well as physical. The general method of enquiry should thus find specific
application to all modes of human experience intellectual, aesthetic, religious, moral, social, and their interrelationships. At the same
time Dewey recognises that the general method has to be modified to the extent that different areas of human life have to be dealt with in
different and appropriate ways if the desired consequences are to be satisfactorily achieved [d].
In general philosophy for Dewey has both 'visionary' and a clarificatory functions. It is visionary in the sense that he seeks to reconstruct
an overall view of man in the context of nature and civilization taking account of all aspects of experience. But to achieve this
requires a critical examination of the sciences and technology, the humanities, ethics, and man's religious dimension. Thus far we might
describe philosophy, as understood by Dewey, as a 'second-order' discipline in that it can both clarify and mediate between different
areas of man's cultural life [e]. He considers philosophy to be capable of these roles because it is uniquely aware of the nature, scope,
and methods of intelligence in general.

ETHICS AND AESTHETICS

[3] [See Human Nature and Conduct and Philosophy and Civilization.] The awareness of uncertainty as to what responses might be
required to meet a specific problem encountered in one's relationship to the environment is a mental quality. But as directed towards a
resolution of the problem the responses become in addition intellectual, according to Dewey. Intelligent conduct is the basis of his ethics.
A moral agent, he says, proposes an end to be achieved through action; and indeed this end gives significance to the activity and
determines its direction. Dewey distinguishes two factors which are involved: impulses and habits. Impulses are spontaneous and,
unlike animal instincts, are non-organized drives. They are channelled into habits, which Dewey says are acquired dispositions to act in
particular ways. In the course of time sets of habits come to constitute customs and thus the morality of a society. But, guided by
intelligence, impulses can also modify customs to produce new structures [a]. Is there then an ideal, an absolute standard at which social
customs should aim? Dewey rejects any suggestion of a realm of metaphysical values independent of man and the environment [b].
Values are made in and by acts of evaluation in the context of society as when we decide that an end is 'satisfactory', that it meets
particular conditions. Good is then defined in terms of the significance we feel to belong to any activity which gives rise to "a unified
orderly release in action" from a complex of conflicting impulses and habits. The only moral end, Dewey says, is growth, that is, the
"continuous reconstruction of experience". There is no final perfect telos [c]. Intrinsic good is thus inseparable from instrumental good,
as is the world of values from the world of facts; and judgements of value, like judgements of the sciences, are predictive and thus
empirically verifiable [d].
[4] [Art and Experience.] Dewey's ethics and social philosophy are closely connected with his views on aesthetics. He saw all kinds of
human experience as possessing an 'immediacy' which integrates their constituent elements, thereby bringing about a unity of the
experience. These pervasive 'tertiary qualities', as he called them, are essentially 'aesthetic'. They may possess both conceptual and
emotional components. They are neither objectively in things themselves independently of experiences nor are they entirely 'subjective'
in the experiencer's mind. Rather they belong to the complex of the total experience itself. Moreover, they are in a state of change and
development in the context of ongoing resolution of intellectual and practical problems by individuals' intelligence. Dewey talks of
experience as thereby being 'reconstructed' and as attaining a condition of 'consummation'. There is, he says, a continuum of tertiary
qualities throughout our experience, from everyday perception through knowledge to the sciences, the fine arts, and religion. Our
experience of life itself is thus aesthetic. The so-called aesthetic feature we associate with our appreciation of art is just this all-
embracing aesthetic quality experienced at a greater intensity [a].

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY
[5] [Human Nature and Conduct.] In Dewey's ethics the primary concern is the all-round growth of the human person [a]. This can be
achieved only in a social environment which can provide opportunities and means for individuals to make use of them [a]. Politics
must therefore be directed to monitor and if needs be criticize institutions to enable them to be reconstructed and thereby maximize the
opportunities they provide. As in his theory of knowledge, Dewey rejects abstractions, for example, the State as an ideal eternal model.
The only test of a particular state's efficacy lies in the success it has in facilitating the growth of all its members. But he does regard
democracy as preferable, in so far as it is founded on faith in human intelligence and capacities and on the power of cooperation and
collective experience [b]. Democracy is a framework for free enquiry and experimental methods rather than a set of precepts or rules.
Such views strongly informed Dewey's influential views on education.

PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION
[6] [See especially A Common Faith.] Dewey did not subscribe to any belief in a supernatural God. But while rejecting religion as a
set of creeds, institutions, and practices he talks of an attitude towards certain kinds of experience as 'religious' [a]. By this he does
not mean anything like a feeling of love or union with a transcendent being. Rather it is a description of attitudes we may have to any
kind of experience (be it aesthetic, moral, or scientific, or feelings for other people), which can give individuals faith, and can direct
them towards something 'beyond' with a view to their achieving harmony with the totality of Nature or the Universe. We can call this
God if we wish: but for Dewey the term can mean no more than "the active relation between ideal and actual".

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Dewey was a major thinker whose influence has been felt far beyond the confines of America and especially in the field of education, his
philosophy being particularly relevant to everyday issues. His pragmatism is notable not only for its combination of the coherence and
correspondence features (stressed by James) but also for his inclusion of the concept of warranted assertability in his theory of
knowledge and truth. It has been argued that with regard to the latter Dewey's account is unsatisfactory, because the notion of a 'warrant'
depends on that of verification or confirmation (associated with the coherence criterion); and that this is a quite different concept from
truth. Other difficulties concern what have been perceived as tensions in his system. For example, while his philosophy is generally
empiricist, there is an implicit metaphysical world-view (holism or organicism formed in his early 'Hegelian' period). 'Constructionist'
tendencies have also been identified which, it is said, are inconsistent with his commitment to realism. Likewise, Dewey affirms the need
for basic logical principles yet at the same time stresses the need to overcome all contradictions and allows for the revisability of
everything. In his ethics the (objective) normative aspect does not sit too well with his subjectivism implicit in his choice of such
vague and ambiguous notions as growth and satisfaction as the empirical criteria of moral judgement.

WHITEHEAD
(1861 1947)

'PROCESS' PHILOSOPHY
Alfred North Whitehead was born in Ramsgate, Kent, a vicar's son. He was educated at Sherborne School and Trinity College,
Cambridge, where he studied mathematics and was elected Fellow and lecturer in 1884. He collaborated with his pupil Bertrand Russell
on their monumental Principia Mathematica (1900-11). From then on he taught at University College, London, and in 1914 he was
appointed professor of applied mathematics at Imperial College. He moved to America in 1924 to take up a chair in philosophy at
Harvard. He was elected Fellow of the British Academy in 1931, and in 1945 the Order of Merit was conferred on him. His Gifford
Lectures, delivered at Edinburgh in 1927/28 were published as Process and Reality his magnum opus.

[Reference numbers for Process and Reality are those of the original standard pagination and which are reproduced in the Free Press
corrected edition of 1978.]

LOGIC/ PHILOSOPHY OF SCIENCE

[1] Throughout his career Whitehead was interested particularly in formal logical and mathematical structures, but also attempted to
understand the world empirically. In his earliest period he sought (with Russell) to deduce the whole of mathematics from formal logical
premisses [a]. At the same time he tried to show that such ideas as space, time, and matter could be used to interpret logical-
mathematical concepts in a formal scheme and thereby could lead to a description of the material world in terms of 'ultimate entities'. He
initially supposed these to be 'lines of force' a particle being the field of such a line at a given point. Later he came to define points
and lines relationally as total sequences of volumes of particular shapes (for points), or directions of routes of shapes (for lines) which
overlap or extend over each other. He called this "the method of extensive abstraction" [see Organization of Thought, ch. 7,
and Principles of Natural Knowledge, Pt III]. Objects and events were also to be defined from this joint logical (or theoretical) and
empirical basis. Thus, while rejecting analysis of experience into sensory impressions, and ideas of atoms as related in an absolute space
and time, he supposed nature could be divided up into events successively extending over each other and characterized by 'eternal
objects', that is, patterns or 'forms' in which 'facts' participate [b]. Spatiality and duration are thus not to be considered as 'disconnecting'
or a result of distortion of the world by the intellect but as intrinsic to physical objects and derivative from the ways in which things are
interconnected [Principles, and Process and Reality, 489-90] [c].
[2] This theory provides the foundation for Whitehead's account of objects. [See Principles and Concept of Nature.] Thus he
distinguished (i) sense objects "situated in events"; (ii) perceptual objects (associations of sense objects); (iii) physical objects; and
finally (iv) the scientific objects, for example, basic particulars (electrons) [a]. These are unperceived and inferred but are held to
account for the properties and relations of the events in which physical objects (through perceptual objects and sense objects) are
ultimately situated. What is the status of these 'basic particles'? Whitehead supposed that if they are indeed ultimate constituents of
matter, then they might be what he called 'non-uniform'. By this he meant that the events in which they are situated are but 'occasions'
lacking duration, continuity being achieved through their 'overlappings'. The physical and perceptual objects on the other hand are
uniform in that the events in which they are grounded exist over space and time. Whitehead says further that groups of such objects
constitute ever wider patterns expressing the uniformity of nature as a whole a uniformity which is necessary, in that it is the physical
realization of a logico-mathematical formalized system.

KNOWLEDGE
[3] [Process and Reality, esp. Pt II, chs V-VII.] Whitehead's theory of perception arises from his rejection of the traditional dualism
between subjective secondary qualities (appearances) and objective primary qualities (reality). Whitehead called this an example of "the
bifurcation of nature". For there to be a 'sense object' (and hence a perceptual object) there must be (a) a 'situation', (b) 'percipient
events', and (c) 'conditioning events'. The percipient event is 'related' to the situation to which it refers through the conditioning events.
This account is developed in later writings in the following way. We do not start from the empiricist's sense-data or impressions but from
what Whitehead calls 'prehending' entities [ibid. Pt III] which are constantly interacting with the environment, and which we are aware
of initially through 'receptive' sensations associated with the body as a whole (through the muscles, our position, etc.) rather than just
through our limited sense organs such as sight and touch. He calls this perception "in the mode of causal efficacy". Sensations, including
emotional experiences are subsequently brought to full consciousness and projected back into the "contemporary spatial region" of the
world" as 'perceptive' sensations: these constitute a later and 'higher' perception at the conscious level "in the mode of presentational
immediacy". (He calls the interplay between them 'symbolic reference'.) Both primary and secondary qualities are thus referred back to a
common actual occasion as prehending entity [a]. And such sensations may of course not be veridical, because there is a time lag
between the two modal stages. [See Pt II, ch. IV, secs VI and VII; ch. VIII, secs I and II.]

METAPHYSICS
[4] [gen 4] Many of Whitehead's central ideas on science and perception are utilized in his metaphysics. Indeed these ideas are already
themselves implicitly metaphysical, metaphysics or 'speculative philosophy' being "the endeavour to frame a coherent, logical necessary
system of general ideas in terms of which every element of our experience can be interpreted" [Process and Reality, Pt I, ch. II] [a]. (His
primary aim in this book was in fact to clarify the meaning of the many categories he postulated in his general 'categorial scheme',
namely, the category of the 'Ultimate'; eight categories of Existence, such as Actual Entities or Occasions, Prehensions, Nexs, Eternal
Objects; twenty-seven of Explanation, and nine of Obligations [b]. These are 'real' categories which relate to concrete experience.)
The 'forms' or 'eternal objects' are what he calls 'pure potentials', realizable as constituents of events or actual entities at different
levels (sense objects, perceptual objects, and so on). Events 'become' and 'perish' over minimal time spans or 'epochs', but because of the
'conformity' to them of successive entities enduring objects are sustainable as permanent features of Nature. Whithead says [Process and
Reality, 63-4] that temporal things arise by their participation in the eternal things, the two sets being mediated by a 'final entity' which
combines the actuality of what is temporal with the timelessness of what is potential. He calls this the divine element in the world, by
which the general Aristotelian principle that, apart from things that are actual, there is nothing 'in fact or in efficacy'. Everything is
positively somewhere in actuality, and in potency everywhere [c].
In his later writings [for example, Process and Reality and Modes of Thought ] events and objects are described as "concrescences of
prehensions" [d] unities which as a consequence of their own "processes of becoming" synthesize their relations to other such unities.
The progressive sequences of overlapping events form groups of 'actual entities' or 'occasions' (Whitehead calls them 'societies' or
'nexs'), other in a hierarchical sequence. Moreover, all entities even down to those at the molecular level are concrescences of
prehensions, manifestations of energy, concrescence being effected by the process of 'feeling' [e]. He uses this term to mean "the basic
generic operation of passing from the objectivity of the data to the subjectivity of the actual entity in question" [Process and Reality, 66]
subjectivity being sentient experience. Integration of feeling proceeds to a final unity of feeling, or 'satisfaction', which is the
culmination of a concrescence into a matter of fact all 'indetermination' of an actual entity having been eliminated, that is, its
possibilities have been realized. And in so far as we can 'feel' in ourselves this activity in others (implicit in the overlapping of events)
we have achieved what he calls 'objectification' or 're-enactment'. Underlying Whitehead's notion of overlapping is a fundamental
interrelatedness of occasions. Relations between them are themselves 'eternal objects' which, he says, is shown in "the complex of
mutual prehensions by virtue of which those occasions constitute a nexus". And every proposition presupposes a general nexus with an
indicative relational system. But for Whitehead relations are both internal and external [f]. His view seems to be, in effect, that if the
'solidarity' of the multitude of actual entities of physical universe is to admit of description, relations must be internal. At the same time,
if we are to think of these actualities as individually discrete, relations must be considered to have an external aspect as bonds
between the divided things. [Process 471-2]
This account leads on to the central notion of organism which Whitehead had earlier defined as a unit made up of smaller structured
units, and which is not only extended spatially and temporally but is also a 'functioning' unit, suggesting an unfolding end to be realized
or actualized in its purposive process from 'privacy' to 'publicity'. Whitehead stresses further that his concept of organism includes not
only living things possessed of mental life but also inert entitites such as stones which may be said to have sentient experience . At the
highest levels, especially in the case of man, the totality of the experience gives rise also to consciousness as an aspect of feeling .
Whitehead in fact distinguishes three purposive stages, a stage of 'propositional feeling' or 'instinctive intuition' [g] being said to emerge
between physical and conscious purposes [427-8]. He supposes himself also to have overcome the Cartesian mind-body dualism, in that
he argues for both unified behaviour and consciousness of a unified experience. Although mentality is non-spatial, its is a reaction from
and integration with spatial physical experience [165-6]. The 'mind' is also understood as the centre of unifying control [h] a
progressive rise into which can be traced throughout the hierarchy of living organisms [ibid.]. The individual self, it is
therefore free activity the process of shaping this welter of material into a consistent pattern of feelings, which can also control and
shape the environment (including its own body). To the extent, however, that the self 'conforms' to that environment and to its own past,
it may be said to be determined [i]. There is no absolute freedom; freedom, 'givenness', potentiality, are notions which presuppose and
limit each other [sec. 202].
Causation [see also sec. 3.] [Process, Pt II, ch. VIII, secs. III-V.] Whitehead rejects empiricist and Kantian accounts because they locate
causation only in the 'mode of presentational immediacy'. This is, however, a later stage of the perceptual process. In fact, he says, our
notion of causation arose because man lives amid experiences in the 'mode of causal efficacy'. If we actually look at experience we find
that the causal nexus should not therefore be derived from the presupposed sequence of immediate presentations but rather that this
perceptive mode gives us information about percepta in the more aboriginal mode of causal efficacy [j]. Thus again the 'gap' or
'bifurcation' between appearance and reality in this case with reference to causal processes is for Whitehead overcome, in so far as
he seems to be advocating a continuity between different grades of actual occasions; and causation throughout "never for a moment
seems to lose its grip".

PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION
[5] [gen 5] [Process and Reality, Pt V.] Whitehead extends his categoreal scheme into religion (and indeed also the moral and aesthetic
realms). In so far as the functioning of unities may be supposed to involve a drive to a realization of their subjective forms a process
of self-creation he regards each one as the result of an intrinsic creativity in Nature, and as exhibiting what he calls
'appetition' [a]. God is conceived of as the fundamental "principle of concretion" underlying and at the same time subject to this creative
process. Moreover, as actual entities come into being through the realization of 'eternal objects' (forms), so is God's own nature or self-
formed, expanded, more fully articulated, and provides the ground (Whitehead calls it God's 'consequent nature') for them to be
objectified. God is thus the foundation of the overlapping of events ("extensive connections"), their actualization, and their
objectification in others. God seems therefore to be both the single principle of ordering and permanence in the universe (equated with
His 'primordial nature') and the ongoing pluralistic process of becoming which is Nature itself [b], but who also provides support for
individuality within the organic totality.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
As a 'speculative' metaphysical philosopher Whitehead belongs in the first rank, though his thought goes against the two main tendencies
of twentieth century English philosophy empiricism/ positivism and language analysis. This is perhaps surprising with respect to the
latter, given that Whitehead was the co-author with Russell of Principia Mathematica. However, his metaphysics of process is grounded
in scientific concepts and is influenced by his work in logic and mathematics. His metaphysics is thus non-idealistic or, at least, as he
put it himself, it might be considered as a transformation of some main doctrines of Absolute Idealism onto a realistic basis [Process and
Reality, Preface, viii].
Many critics have found Whitehead's idiosyncratic terminology uncongenial and not a little obscure. (Indeed in this respect we may
regard him as the Heidegger of Anglo-American philosophy!) It has been objected also that he is too prone to make assertions rather than
to engage in sustained argument. But such a view fails to take account of the primary aim of his speculative philosophy. It has been said
also that his use of categories is illegitimate to the extent that they cut across boundaries being applied indiscriminately to biology,
physics, religion, and so on. The notion of 'feeling', for example, is claimed by Whitehead to be exhibited throughout Nature in general.
Nevertheless, on the positive side his system is impressive for its vision and scope; for his movement away from the restrictive views of
empiricism, 'atomism', and rationalism, to overcome fragmentation and 'bifurcation'; and his attempt to achieve integration of individuals
within a network of relationships in Nature. His emphasis on objects as events also constitutes a new way of looking in modern
philosophy, which some later thinkers have found stimulating and useful.

SANTAYANA
(1863 1952)

NATURALISM/ CRITICAL REALISM

George Santayana was born in Madrid of Spanish parents. The family emigrated to America in 1872. He was educated at the Boston
Latin School and Harvard University, gaining his degree in 1886. After two years studying philosophy at Berlin University he returned to
Harvard to complete his doctorate under William James. He joined the faculty there in 1889, and was appointed full professor in 1907.
On the death of his mother in 1912 he returned to Europe and spent the war years in Oxford. He settled in Rome in 1924, where he died.

AESTHETICS/ RELIGION
[1] Santayana's aesthetics is largely the product of his early period [The Sense of Beauty, The Life of Reason, vol, IV] when he was
concerned with grounding the life of the mind in a biological/ evolutionary context and was seeking to give an account of aesthetic
experience and judgement in psychological terms. Aesthetic value, manifested in beauty, relates to what he calls intrinsic and objectified
pleasure. By this he means that we experience it as belonging to the work of art itself and not to the perceiver [a]. While the experience
of beauty is unanalysable, Santayana does distinguish between the materials, form, and expressiveness of a work of art. The materials
consist of sensuous elements which can be synthesized by the mind's activity to produce a form or arrangement. But the materials and
the form have aesthetic value in themselves. The expressiveness of the work concerns its capacity to produce ideas or images
aesthetic, moral, or intellectual, which add to its value. Santayana regards works of art in general as abstract symbolizations of the
environment and human interests, and as expressing man's inner "moral and dramatic" unities and knowledge of life as a whole, thereby
increasing his happiness [b]. This can be seen, he says, firstly in the practical and then in the fine arts which develop from them. In so far
as experience is the criterion of aesthetic value, Santayana rejects any universal or objective standard, and denies that beauty possesses
the quality of 'disinterestedness' [c].
[2] As for religion, Santayana [Life of Reason, vol. III] thinks of this as a poetic transformation of our 'natural' life. He rejects it as an
expression of truth. Religion is myth. Its value lies solely in its efficaciousness in organizing our moral lives and in its support for the life
of the imagination and of spirituality (as against animal desires). He sees the function of religious discourse as only symbolic to
express moral values and ideals [a]. He also rejects both mystical religions and authoritarian structures.

KNOWLEDGE
[3] [The Life of Reason, vol. 1 (Common Sense).] We cannot know reality as it is in itself. Our knowledge must be indirect and
representational. Reason works on the data of sense to produce "concretions in experience". These in turn give rise to concepts or
"concreteness in discourse". Santayana thinks of these as related 'dialectically'. They are then fashioned and developed by the active
imagination which Santayana sees as integral to the life of reason. In constructing concretions of experience and discourse,
consciousness in effect imposes unity and meaning on reality [a]. However Santayana offers no criterion by which the "constructed
unities" of our experience can be recognised as factual unities, ideal correspondences with the real (and thereby can belong to our
understanding), and not just dramatic and moral unities. This matter clearly raises the problem of scepticism; and he attempts to deal
with it in his later work [Scepticism and Animal Faith]. He suggests that if we consider what is immediately presented to us in
experience without reference to origin, and disregarding the existence of the external world, the self, and so on, we are left only with
'essences'. But while reason or imagination cannot establish that such essences are substantial and belong in reality to the natural order,
therein possessing 'causal efficacy', our "animal faith" points to an external world transcending our immediate experience [b]. The realm
of Being or essences is explored in his metaphysics.

METAPHYSICS
[4] [The Realms of Being.] Santayana distinguishes four Modes of Being. (1) Matter possesses the properties of 'spatial extension' and
'temporal process'. It can be known only through essences [a], but even these are inadequate to reveal it as continuity underlying change.
(2) Essence is the primary mode of Being. There are infinitely many 'eternal' essences, their 'being' consisting solely in self-identity with
no reference to spatial or temporal location. Taken together they make up the absolute essence of 'Pure Being', which is the common
characteristic of all essences [b]. However, not all essences are actually exemplified in matter; so those that are not do not exist in the
material mode of Being. (3) Spirit. This is not the physical or behavioural unity of an organism, which Santayana calls the 'psyche'; nor
is it the set of mental events. Rather it is "pure transcendental consciousness", whose job is to 'intuit' individual essences without regard
to truth, significance, or material existence. The life of intuition, he says, may constitute a unity, and as such it is man's highest good.
But it has no cognitive value [c]. (4) Truth is "the sum of all propositions" about what exists, has existed, or might exist among the
infinite number of essences. He rejects pragmatic approaches and also the concept of necessary truths; the coincidence of all truth with
reality is contingent. Even mathematical truths are considered to be contingent [d].

ETHICS
[5] Santayana asserted [The Sense of Beauty] that morality consists in the avoidance of suffering, pleasure being secured through
aesthetic experience. However, he later modified this hedonism recognising the possibility of choice and preference [see The Life of
Reason, vol. V; see also Winds of Desire] [a]. Certainly there is a rational morality which is concerned with the genuinely good and
requires a careful examination of alternatives and a reconciliation of different satisfactions. (The "pre-rational morality" of individuals
whose lives are governed solely by impulse and who have no conception of alternatives is here contrasted with the "post-rational
morality" of those who shun the natural world and embrace some religion of salvation.) But even rational morality, which seems to
involve acceptance of an ideal standard, is a matter of personal choice and temperamental bias.
SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY
[6] [The Life of Reason, vol. II; Dominations and Powers.] Santayana distinguishes two levels of society. Society in a full or genuine
sense is that of the mind and is the means whereby the ideal life of reason can be achieved. However, considered at the lower level as the
complex of human institutions such as the family or the state, society's function is a practical one; to provide for man's general well-
being [a]. Santayana also allows for associations (grounded in, for example, patriotism) beyond the primary ones. He regards these as
characterizing 'free' or 'rational' society. But such institutions constitute what we might term the infrastructure of the life of reason.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Santayana's philosophy is marked by its vision and comprehensiveness but at the same time by a certain lack of rigour features which
despite his disavowal might suggest some influence from nineteenth century developments in German philosophy (though he did
acknowledge parallels in the work of Husserl). His principal themes are also perhaps those which lay him most open to objections.
(1) In his epistemology his commitment to a representative theory of perception is uncritical. His appeal to a belief based on 'animal
faith' would probably fail to answer the arguments of a thorough-going sceptic, particularly as he locates certainty in knowledge of
essences. Indeed his metaphysics of realms of being, although illuminating, is characterized by assertion rather than detailed argument or
awareness of possible difficulties.
(2) The distinctions Santayana makes in his ethics between pre-rational, rational, and post-rational society are of considerable interest in
the context of a philosophy of culture. But while he has moved away from his earlier crude hedonism (grounded in a psychological
account of aesthetics), he has not really disengaged himself from a relativism contingent on the bias of individual temperament.
(3) His emphasis on society as the means by which individuals might achieve the 'life of reason' in their apprehension of essences is
arguably unbalanced, and has the effect of subordinating the more immediate practical considerations most theories of society are
concerned with. His anti-liberal and anti-democratic tendencies have also been viewed unfavourably by many western philosophers
today.

RUSSELL
(1872 1970)

CRITICAL EMPIRICISM/ LOGICAL ANALYSIS

Bertrand Russell (Lord Russell) was born at Trelleck, Monmouthshire, the second son of Viscount Amberley. His parents died when he
was very young, and he was brought up by his grandparents (John Stuart Mill was an informal guardian). He was educated at home by
private tutors and then at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he studied mathematics and philosophy. He gained his degree in 1894 and
was a Fellow of Trinity 1895-1901. After travelling in the U.S.A. and Germany he became a lecturer at the London School of Economics
and then at Trinity College, Cambridge. Throughout his life Russell was active in politics he was imprisoned in 1918 for writing
allegedly libellous articles and in 1961 in connection with the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. He also stood for Parliament
(unsuccessfully) on three occasions. From 1927-1934 he ran an experimental school he had established, and thereafter taught at the
Universities of Chicago and California, Los Angeles. In 1931 he succeeded to the Earldom. He was elected Fellow of the British
Academy and appointed to the Order of Merit in 1949. Russell was an outstanding rationalist, humanist, and socialist, and a champion of
free speech, and was a prolific writer not only in philosophy (of which he was a great populariser) but also on social, political, and
educational issues.

PHILOSOPHY OF MATHEMATICS, LOGIC AND LANGUAGE

[1] Russell was initially interested in the nature of mathematical truth. He came to reject both empiricist accounts of number and the
view of geometry as grounded in a priori intuitions. He argued that mathematical propositions must be true necessarily (analytically),
and he sought to reduce mathematics to formal logic (which he came to regard as consisting of tautologies). Taking numbers as
mathematically basic and as applicable to classes, he defined a cardinal number of a given collection as the class of all equally numerous
collections, that is, what such collections have in common. This illustrates Russell's (and Whitehead's) 'construction' of mathematical
entities out of 'simpler' ones [in Principia Mathematica] [a].
Russell's work on logic and mathematics led to a number of paradoxes.
(1) Is the class of all classes which are not members of themselves a member of itself? We seem to have a contradiction whether it is or
is not a member. Russell claimed to have resolved the paradox by his theory of types. Suppose we have a propositional function, 'x is y',
where y is some property, say 'mortal'. For x we can substitute appropriate values, for example, Russell, Socrates, belonging to a
particular class (man). The propositional function is made true when 'Russell' is substituted for x. What we cannot do is to substitute, say,
'class of men' for x; for this includes an element defined in terms of the function. Russell said it belongs to a different order or type. He
later argued that different types constitute different syntactical functions in a sentence; and that if classes themselves are no more than
incomplete symbols they can be dispensed with as 'real' entities [b].
(2) A second paradox arose out of a particular view of word meaning, namely that words acting as grammatical subjects of sentences
have meaning by virtue of their denoting some entity. Thus the meaning of 'cat' is the furry animal it refers to. But then what do we say
of words such as 'unicorn', 'happiness', 'class', or of self-contradictory expressions like 'round square'? In his earliest period Russell
would seem to have believed that there are actual entities, albeit not 'existing' in the way that tables and chairs do, which are the denotata
of such names. However, he soon came to reject this view; and to deal with the problem of non-denoting terms and phrases he devised
the Theory of Descriptions ['On Denoting']. This can be explained as follows.
Names whose job it is simply to denote some simple object and whose meaning is the object denoted Russell calls 'logically proper
names'. All other names are really implicit or disguised descriptions that function only as names , for example, 'the author of Waverley'
and 'the King of France'. Now, suppose we say 'The King of France is bald'. If there is no such existent entity denoted by the phrase 'the
King of France', is the statement as a whole false or meaningless? It certainly seems to be about something. To avoid this problem
Russell in effect paraphrased the sentence to read (roughly) 'There exists some thing x such that it is King of France; and to say that
anything is King of France entails that it is identical to x; and that that thing is bald'. Translated into the symbolism of formal logic this
becomes: (x)[Fx (y) (Fy y = x) Gx]. The non-denoting name is thus eliminated in the restructured formulation of the original
sentence; and the truth of the sentence is now determined by whether or not the 'x' in ' x' is or is not instantiated. Definite descriptions
are incomplete symbols (like classes), not the real logical subjects of sentences, and have meaning only by virtue of the role they play in
the logical structure of those sentences [c]; they have no meaning in isolation. Moreover they cannot mean the name they describe,
Russell said, for this would produce tautologies. To say 'Scott is the author of Waverley' would be to say no more than 'Scott is Scott'. If
the description had any other meaning, the sentence would be false. So the phrase on its own does not mean anything. It is thus clear that
Russell placed much emphasis on logical analysis to uncover the logical structures underlying what he saw as potentially
philosophically misleading grammatical forms of sentences [d].
During this early period Russell supposed truth and falsehood to be attributes of propositions these being understood as timeless
existent complexes of terms, objects of 'intentional acts of belief' or of thought. Truth belongs to true propositions in consequence of the
internal relationship between their constitutent terms [e]. He distinguishes between material implication and formal
implication [see Principia Mathematica]. The former relates propositions (as when we say 'it is not the case that p is true and q is false).
The latter relates propositional functions (such as 'x is a man' formally implies 'x is mortal'). However, Russell maintained that
'p materially implies q' means the same as 'q is deducible from p'. And he also claimed that the relation of formal implication can be
subsumed under the class of material implications (just as pure mathematics is seen as the class of all propositions of the form
'p implies q'). It is on the basis of implication that inferences are made. But inference for Russell is not a psychological activity; formal
logic is not a 'theory of enquiry' [f]. True propositions are identical with facts: false propositions are non-factual 'complexes'. Russell
came to regard as unsatisfactory the supposition that false propositions actually have being in the same sense as non-factual entities, so
he proposed a multiple-relation theory of judgement [Problems of Philosophy]. Take, for example, 'Othello believes that Desdemona
loves Cassio'. In this judgement or propositional 'act' the subject or mind (Othello) arranges the elements or objects (1) Desdemona, (2)
loving, and (3) Cassio in the particular order 1 to 3, thereby forming a complex unity. The judgement is true if the objects actually exist
as a unity, a factual complex, separate from the judgement and in the same order as the corresponding terms in the judgement. The
existence of all the objects guarantees the meaningfulness of the judgement even if there is no complex in which case the
propositional judgement is false (and does not have abstract 'being'). Russell later ['The Philosophy of Logical Atomism'] moved to the
view that the intentional objects constituting propositions are now complex 'images' in the mind, which are true if they 'correspond' to the
facts, false if they point away from the same facts. Correspondence seemed to be understood by him in terms of picturing or
resemblance [g].
Both Russell's account of truth and his views of meaning underwent further modification in a 'behaviourist' direction and came to be
linked with his theory of a 'hierarchy of languages' though he continued to hold to the correspondence theory [ An Inquiry into
Meaning and Truth, ch. 21]. He postulated a fundamental language consisting of object words (nouns, verbs, adjectives) by the meanings
of which extra-linguistic events could be expressed, albeit crudely. In order to say that any statements made in this basic language are
true or false a 'second-order' language is needed, because the basic language does not contain such semantic terms. Thus a language's
form might be described though through a metalanguage [h]. If an indicative statement is to be regarded as true or false, it has to be
meaningful. (Imperatives and interrogatives are also meaningful but cannot be said to be true or false.) Russell now distinguished
between the meaning of object words and the significance of sentences. Meaning depends on reference: a word 'means' an object if
when the (sensible) presence of the object causes the utterance of the word, and the hearing of the word produces effects analogous to
that experienced when the object is present [IMT, ch. 1]. Significance, however, depends on the meanings of the object words in the
context of a syntactically correct sentence. Strictly speaking, the significance of a sentence is that which is common to sentences which
make the same assertion('It is raining', 'Il pleut'). [See IMT, ch. 13.] Russell said this significance is now the 'proposition', which he
considered to be a logical construction out of a class of sentences having the same meaning [ch. 12]. It is also the expression of the belief
of the person who expresses it, identifiable with his internal physiological state his implicit tendency to respond, behave in
appropriate ways [ch. 13] [i]. If the belief, through the assertion, relates successfully to a fact, it is true; otherwise it is false. In Human
Knowledge [Pt II, ch. XI] he called the facts 'verifiers'; and he made it clear that such relations between empirical beliefs and verifiers
may hold even though we may not know it. The mere possibility of verification makes the statement meaningful. However, non-
empirical, that is, 'analytic' propositions (of logic and mathematics, for example), are true by virtue of the form of the sentences asserted.
And Russell accordingly rejects 'warranted assertibility' and coherence theories of truth [IMT, chs 10, 21, 23] [j].

METAPHYSICS
[2] Russell's metaphysics (and his theory of knowledge see below) are closely bound up with his views on logic and language. In his
earliest period, having rejected the doctrine of internal relations and dogmatic monistic idealism, he was an extreme realist, believing in
the actual existence of a plurality of external relations, universals, spatial points, instants of time, numbers, and perhaps also 'selves' [a].
But in due course he came to extend the reductive analysis he had used in mathematics to the wider sphere of philosophy, in particular to
the language employed to describe the physical world [Our Knowledge of the External World]. Points, instants, material particles are
now regarded as logical constructions of sets of events. Physical objects are definable in terms of actual sense-data (for example, red
patches) or possible sense-data ('sensibilia'), sense-data being regarded as physical entities located in the nervous system. This is a
phenomenalist theory [b]. Likewise he supposed the 'self' to be a constructed collection of states sharing the same common quality of
being described as 'mental', and which are apprehended as the 'act of awareness'. But we have no direct acquaintance with this self as
such [c]. Russell thus held that we use different 'languages': one to describe our ordinary everyday experiences of tables, trees, people,
but translatable into another for the purposes of natural science (which makes use of such concepts as space, time, particle) and
psychology (mental states) [d]. And he seemed to use his reductive analysis techniques as a means of revealing what he supposed to be
the ultimate constituents of reality [see 'The Philosophy of Logical Atomism']. The ideal or 'basic' language supposedly represents in its
structure ('isomorphically') the nature and structure of the 'real' world as consisting of a plurality of particulars ('logical atoms' sense-
data and universals) which are independent of each other [e]. The common sense world of everyday experience can then be understood
as consisting of complexes of atomic facts, for example, 'This is white' (particular), and 'All men are mortal' (universal). Russell soon
recognised that there were difficulties with his logical atomism and his postulation of isomorphism between language and 'reality'. We
can never be sure we have actually reached logical ultimates; and general facts may have to be admitted as ultimate constituents if
general statements cannot be shown to be functions of atomic statements.
In the next stage of his thought Russell eliminated even the 'act of awareness' he had supposed to be required to apprehend the collection
of states partly constituting the mind. He now [Analysis of Mind] adopted a form of 'neutral monism'. Both mind and matter are neutral
constructions or complexes of particulars which are neither mental nor material. Sense-data may be physical and psychical , depending
on the way we group them with other particulars in our common sense experience of events, that is, on whether we relate them to the
viewing of images from our own perspective or to the appearances in space of objects. To all intents and purposes this adds up to an
abandonment by Russell of the view of sense-data as physical and extra-mental objects of awareness, and of the notion of any intentional
mental act [f]. As for 'universals', he seemed later to think of these as empirically correlatable qualities common to the individual things
which are collections of them (redness, hardness, and so on) [IMT, ch. 6] [g].

KNOWLEDGE
[3] Russell's theory of knowledge is in its fundamentals relatively stable and consistent. Throughout his writings knowledge tends to be
presented as a relationship between the knower and 'objects'. But as to what these objects are and how they are known he offered
different answers at different times reflecting the various shifts and modifications in his metaphysics and philosophy of language.
In his earliest period [especially Problems of Philosophy] he distinguished (a) things and (b) truths. Knowledge of things he called
knowledge by acquaintance; and under this heading he included sense-data, universals, and probably mental states and his own 'self' or
mind. The objects of knowledge of truths are judgements, or beliefs that something is the case. Knowledge that is thus subordinated to
knowledge of. Truths, he said, may be (i) self-evident our knowledge then being 'intuitive'; or (ii) derivative such truths being
'deduced' from self-evident truths. Examples of truths known intuitively are the principles of logic and mathematics, the principles of
induction, and truths which 'correspond' to complex facts, including truths of perception and immediate memory. From our knowledge of
things together with our knowledge of truths we may derive knowledge of things by description. Russell here included physical objects,
other human beings, and minds [a].
Because of difficulties associated with inference to physical objects and mental selves Russell subsequently supposed such objects of
knowledge to be constructions out of subjective or 'lived' immediate experience. Objects of knowledge then become constituents of
atomic facts, namely sense-data and universals, expressed in atomic sentences (from which complexes can be built truth-functionally) .
[see Our Knowledge of the External World; Analysis of Mind] [b]. Later still [An Inquiry into Meaning and Truth, ch. 19] he came to
admit that we cannot know whether atomic facts are simples, that is, ultimate entities. Having rejected sense-data, so as to avoid
solipsism, he returned again to a consideration of the possibility of inference as a basis for knowledge and attempted to show how
inferences to the general propositions of science might be justified [Human Knowledge, Pt III, ch. III and passim] [c]. Such inferences
are not demonstrative unlike those employed in mathematics and logic. But he recognised that there are inferences which we accept
as having varying degrees of probability though many generalizations are of course false. Can we then establish criteria for
distinguishing between valid and invalid inferences in science? How far should we allow ourselves to move away from a fundamentally
empiricist position? To deal with these issues Russell sketched out a number of principles, though these were neither systematically
formulated nor in any sense proven. He supposed rather that they are 'justified' in that they provide the framework within which our
inherently biological propensity to draw inferences can operate, and which is successful in so far as our whole system of science and
everyday knowledge 'works' [d]. Five postulates were set out [HK, Pt VI, ch. IX, though he said it might be possible to operate with
fewer. They are:
(1) The postulate of 'quasi-permanence': given an event A, it is usually the case that an event similar to A is found near to it in time and
space.
(2) The postulate of 'separable causal lines': it is often possible to form a series of events which enables us to infer something from a few
of its members to the others.
(3) The postulate of 'spatio-temporal continuity': if there is a causal connection between events which are 'non-contiguous, intermediate
links in the chain can be found.
(4) The 'structural' postulate: if a number of structurally similar complex events occur close to a centre, then it is usually the case that
they all belong to causal lines originating in an event of similar structure at the centre.
(5) The postulate of 'analogy': if we have reason to suppose of two classes of observed events, A and B, that A causes B, then it is
probable that if A occurs then B also does, though we have not observed it.

ETHICS
[4] Russell started out [for example, Philosophical Essays, ch. I] by accepting the 'objectivist' view that good and bad are 'qualities'
which belong to objects independently of any individual's opinion, and (the 'non-naturalist' view) that they cannot be inferred from any
other properties. He also rejected the view that to say x is good is to say something about one's feelings or desires [a]. People, he said,
generally agree on what is intrinsically valuable. He later [An Outline of Philosophy] radically reversed his account of ethics to adopt
a 'subjectivist' position. Disagreement about values is a disagreement of 'taste', that is, they are about our feelings, desires,
attitudes. There are no ethical 'facts'; good and bad are not independent qualities of objects of objects indeed they are not qualities at
all. Moral judgement is an expression of desire [b]: but Russell distinguished between personal desires (for example, for food) and
impersonal desires (for example, that the monarchy should be abolished). It is the latter which are appropriate to moral judgement in the
strict sense. Moreover, people disagree not only about the means to achieve particular ends but about the ends themselves (which may of
course affect discussion about the means). Nevertheless the 'rightness' of actions must still be assessed in terms of their consequences,
however we differently we may judge these consequences [c].
Despite this fundamental change of standpoint, Russell consistently regarded as illegitimate any 'naturalistic' move from factual
premisses (be they empirical or metaphysical) to conclusions which are statements of value [d]. These do not assert anything, he said,
and therefore cannot be true or false.

PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION
[5] Russell's attitude to religion and theology was on the whole negative and sceptical. God's existence, he said, is not provable and
although we cannot be certain, it is highly improbable that there is such a being, not least because of the presence of evil in the
world [a] a world which Russell described as being fundamentally horrible. Similarly he asserted that there is no evidence to support
the view that anything 'spiritual' survives the dissolution of the body after death [b]. Nevertheless he had some sympathy for rationalist
philosophers, as against 'fideists' and those who appeal to feeling. Faith is subjective and cannot support objective claims [c]. At least the
rationalists attempt to argue their case though Russell rejected the arguments. He regarded all organized religion as having bad
consequences for individuals and societies, particularly when grounded solely in faith and feeling a stance which for him was
inconsistent with open-mindedness. In general his own attitude to what he perceived as 'cosmic injustice' has much in common with that
of the Stoics; he admired the courage they showed in the pursuit of truth [d].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Much criticism of Russell's philosophy may well be regarded as inappropriate in so far as his ideas were constantly changing and
evolving. Indeed he was his own severest critic thus reflecting his scrupulous intellectual honesty and his single-minded quest for
truth and certainty. Nevertheless there are some permanent features of his thought. He remained committed to a denotative theory of
meaning and to a general empiricism in his epistemology and metaphysics; and these positions have stimulated legitimate debate.
(1) Some critics have objected to his Theory of Descriptions (which he formulated to deal with consequences of his theory of meaning).
Following Frege, they argue that Russell failed to take account of the way that descriptive phrases are actually used in everyday
discourse, namely, that use presupposes the existence of the objects to which the descriptions refer. They criticize further Russell's
assumption that underlying the potentially misleading grammatical forms of sentences are logical forms (which Russell also identified
with the logical forms of the 'facts' which would verify what the sentences express).
(2) Objections have also been made against Russell's account of knowledge (and the 'metaphysics' associated with it). His distinction
between knowledge by acquaintance and knowledge by description involved the postulation of basic entities 'logical atoms',
subsequently identified with percepts, images, 'sensa', as immediate objects of acquaintance. Physical objects and the self are therefore
regarded variously as constructions or inferences. Recent critics have argued against such inferential realism and postulation of 'sensa',
not least because of their alleged status as 'private' entities, that is, private to the perceiver.
One's attitude to such criticisms of both Russell's Theory of Descriptions (and his account of meaning) and his theory of perception will
of course depend on what view one holds of the nature and functioning of language. This continues to be a disputed issue. In the recent
climate of 'linguistic' or 'ordinary language' philosophy it is arguable that the later philosophy of Russell has probably been underrated.
(3) Many commentators (and not only professional philosophers) have balked at Russell's 'subjectivist' ethics and his agnostic, sceptical
pessimism about matters of religion. And they have suggested that it is difficult to reconcile this with Russell's public advocacy of the
rightness or wrongness of statements and actions of political or religious leaders. In answer to this it might be said that while he certainly
held that morality is in some sense a matter of personal 'taste', one's preferences can be justified on rational grounds (say, with reference
to ends and means) supported by discussion, and they may come to be shared by others in the community. This of course underpins
Russell's commitment to the open society, freedom of thought, and his concerns about excesses of state power.

MOORE
(1873 1958)

REALISM/ ANALYTICAL PHILOSOPHY

George Moore was born in Upper Norwood, London. His father was a medical doctor, his mother came from a Quaker merchant family.
He was educated at Dulwich College and Trinity College, Cambridge, where he studied classics and philosophy. He graduated in 1896,
and in 1898 was elected Fellow of Trinity for six years, during which time he engaged in frequent discussions with Russell. In 1911 he
was appointed university lecturer at Cambridge and in 1925 professor of mental philosophy and logic. He remained actively engaged in
writing and discussion from his retirement in 1939 until his death. He was appointed to the Order of Merit in 1951.

LOGIC AND METAPHYSICS

[1] Although influenced initially by such theories, Moore came to reject the doctrines of internal relations and 'psychologism'. And he
also disagreed that material implication means the same as formal implication [a]. He subscribed to an objectivist theory of a plurality of
real universal concepts which are separable from our mental acts and are the objects of our judgements [see 'The Nature of
Judgement']. They are what 'material things', propositions, facts, 'complexes, numbers, and minds are made up of. Propositions are
relations between the real concepts; and indeed he seems to identify propositions with things and 'complex conceptions'. He also
distinguishes between empirical universals (and thence propositions), which exist through time, and a priori ones, which do not [b].
Because of the problem of false beliefs [see sec. 2] Moore subsequently changed his views and decided that there could be no
propositions in any 'realist' sense. And he came to think of the universe as consisting of two independent categories of entities or things
which have 'being': things that exist, and things which do not exist but 'are' [see 'The Refutation of Idealism']. (He thus rejected the view
that there are degrees of reality. The former category covers particulars (material things, sense-data, mental acts, spatial volumes, and
instants of time); while the latter is made up of facts and universals (relations, relational properties, and others which do not involve
relations, such as numbers, and qualities such as good, and perhaps colour). Things that do not have any being at all are imaginary
objects, describable by incomplete symbols, whereas things which do have being can be referred to by proper names [c]. What is or is
not imaginary and therefore non-denoting, however, depends on the context in which the relevant statement containing the symbol is
made. The phrase 'the king of France' in 'the king of France is wise, for example, would not have been an incomplete symbol if asserted
in 1700. Implicit in this approach is a commitment to a form of philosophical analysis[d]; and although Moore repudiated this
description of his methods, he did argue that philosophers differ from each other in the kinds of analysis they employ ['The Nature and
Reality of Objects of Perception']. In general Moore's mode of analysis consists in describing concepts by other concepts and often in
ways such that references to the original concepts are eliminated (as 'brother' is analysed as 'male sibling', for example). [See Moore's
reply to Langford in Schillp.] Likewise in his treatment of free will [Ethics, ch. VI] he argues that it is certain that, if we had we so
chosen, we often could (in some sense) have done what we did not do; and that this sense is such that 'should' can be substituted for
'could'. By implication [according to Austin] 'if'-clauses state the causal conditions [e] on which any different course of action would
have followed.

KNOWLEDGE
[2] In his lectures of 1910-11 [Some Main Problems of Philosophy, ch. 6] Moore had regarded propositions (or complexes of things) as
objects of belief not beliefs themselves. Some propositions are true (they are 'facts'), some false, truth being something we can
directly 'intuit'. Knowledge is thus our awareness of propositions, while perception is knowledge of existential propositions [a]. How
then do we account for false beliefs? There must be false propositions, Moore said; they are the objects of false beliefs. But when we
have a false belief we believe 'what is not', so there cannot be an object. He therefore concluded not only that there were no false
propositions but also that there were no true ones either. Nevertheless in later lectures of the 1910-11 series [ibid., chs 13-16] he
maintained that when we believe something to be true its truth must consist in its correspondence to a fact [b].
In his 'Refutation of Idealism' Moore undertook a thorough critique of idealism, which he supposed to be epitomized primarily by
Berkeley's 'esse est percipi' (though he seemed also to include 'being thought' as an aspect of 'being perceived'). Moore wanted to
separate the concept of being from that of being perceived; they are neither identical nor connected in an 'organic unity'. He thus
distinguished between an act of consciousness and the actual object. This act of consciousness, however, is also an act of cognition: to
have an idea or sensation is to know, that is, be aware of something outside, which is not now a proposition but may be a physical
object [c]. Later ['Nature and Reality of Objects of Perception'] Moore argued that the term 'sensation' is ambiguous. The actual 'content'
of, say, a seeing experience (he uses the term 'sense-datum' to refer to this content) may cease to exist, in which case the seeing itself
also ceases. But what is experienced (the physical object we ordinarily believe we directly perceive) may continue to exist [d].
Knowledge in a general sense, for Moore, consists in a relationship. He firstly distinguishes between knowledge by direct apprehension
(acquaintance) and knowledge by indirect apprehension. A typical example of the former is the relationship between the consciousness
of a perceiver and, say, a patch of colour. Memory experiences illustrate the latter as when we remember seeing an object but neither
it nor the associated sense-data are present to our consciousness. Knowledge in a 'proper' sense is now defined as involving (1) a
complex relation between an act of consciousness and a direct apprehension of a proposition; provided (2) the proposition is true, we
believe it to be true, and there are grounds for our belief (though Moore does not say what these might be). If the proposition is known to
be true directly without further support, this form of 'proper' knowledge is called immediate. Moore also refers to what we might call
latent knowledge, that is, knowledge we have in one of the previous senses but where there is nothing we are actually conscious of at the
moment (for example, that 12 x 3 = 36). But in general he is critical of any distinction between 'acquaintance' and 'description'.
Knowledge by acquaintance, he says, is neither knolwledge nor acquaintance [Some Main Problems of Philosophy].
The kinds of things that, according to Moore, we may be supposed to know include not only material objects but also acts of
consciousness, sense-data, universals, matters of fact, synthetic necessary truths, and 'entities' such as 'the good' [e]. But his account of
knowledge raises two problems. (1) How can we be sure of our knowledge of these various things? To answer this Moore generally
invokes commonsense or 'ordinary' belief ['A Defence of Common Sense' and 'Proof of an External World']. We can appeal to facts and
point to objects. There are also other people we can communicate with [f]. Thus he is broadly empiricist, though it is clear that
'experience' for him includes much more than what we gain through the senses. (2) In perception, how should we describe sense-data and
account for the relationship between them and (a) universals, and (b) physical objects? As to the nature of a sense-datum, what we
immediately perceive, Moore says, is not part of the surface of an object, nor is it the appearance of such a part. Still less is it the name
of a set of actual or possible sensations. Rather we must suppose a sense-datum is some sort of object that exists only when we are
perceiving it. Indeed different people have different and often inconsistent sense-data. He concludes that a visual sense-datum is a patch
of colour which, as a particular, relates to the colour itself, colour being a non-relational universal. As for the relationship between sense-
data and material objects, Moore oscillated between a logical constructivist or phenomenalist theory and a version of
representationalism [g], both of which raise difficulties concerning our knowledge of physical objects.; and he was never really satisfed
with either. He suggested later that these problems might be dealt with by means of inductive or analogical arguments.

ETHICS
[3] [See especially Principia Ethica.] Moore rejects any attempt to define 'the good' in terms of some natural quality, or indeed in terms
of any quality at all. To try to do so is to commit what he calls 'the naturalistic fallacy'. If, for example, we define good as pleasure,
then when we say 'pleasure is good' we are saying no more than 'pleasure is pleasure'. Good, for Moore, is essentially indefinable and
unanalysable; it is a non-natural entity which we can 'intuit' in things. At best, all we can do is to see how 'good' relates to other value
terms to determine its meaning by engaging in a kind of descriptive language analysis [a]. What kinds of things can be said to be good?
Moore's account is 'organicist', that is, he thinks of the goods man aspires to as unities whose goodness is more than just a mechanical
sum of their parts. And of such goods he singles out friendship and appreciation of beauty. To determine this he imagines each whole to
be the only thing existing in the universe and then considers whether it would be better if it existed than if it did not.
Ethics is also concerned with rights, duties, and virtues; and each of these concepts, Moore says, is definable in terms of goodness. To
determine the rightness of an action, how we ought to behave in a given situation, or what being virtuous consists in, therefore requires a
consideration of the causal consequences how much good is produced, whether it is the greatest amount as compared with what
alternative actions might bring about. (This is not the same as saying that an action is morally obligatory if the actual performing of it
makes the universe better than if one were to perform a different action [see Ethics].) However, he recognised that any assessment of
consequences is not an easy task and that that following the conventional rules (rights and duties) of society is best calculated to
maximize the good [b].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Moore's arguments in his metaphysics and theories of knowledge are generally inconclusive. But they do illustrate the importance for
him of careful examination of the meanings of words, in both their 'ordinary' and philosophical contexts though as a means of
achieving clarification rather than to show that the relevant philosophical problems are in any way spurious. Nevertheless, for all their
supposed simplicity his conclusions are not immune to criticism; and there are many assumptions and unanswered questions. The
following issues are particularly important:
(1) What is the basis or justification for the distinction between the 'act of consciousness' and its objects?
(2) The relationship of sense-data to physical or material objects and to universals needs to be clarified. What are sense-data (e.g., a
patch of colour)? Are they particulars or universals? Moore says they exist only when we are perceiving them. They do not belong to the
surface of objects. But is it not physical objects that we perceive? How then do sense-data relate to objects? Moore does not seem to
offer any definitive conclusions on these matters. Likewise, in his metaphysics we are left with a multitude of 'entities', which are not to
the taste of many recent philosophers, any more than is his distinction between 'exist' and 'are'.
(3) As for his ethics, it is generally held now that Moore's 'naturalistic fallacy' is less devastating than has often been supposed in the
past. There is no objection to defining good stipulatively in terms of, say, pleasure (though this may not be a fruitful approach to human
behaviour). In any case, if there is a fallacy, it consists in the attempt to define good (a value) in terms of a non-moral quality (fact)
rather than being any inherent inconsistency in ethical naturalism itself. However, against Moore it might be said that we do in fact
define 'good' in different ways and in different contexts, as a qualification of some object (good book, good person, good mark, and
so on). Another objection is that Moore has a limited view of ethical qualities. There are also the standard difficulties with his
utilitarianism. Should consequences be used as the criterion of morality? Are consequences quantifiable, measurable? It is arguable also
that Moore's conventionalism does not cope adequately with moral conflicts.

SCHELER
(1874 1928)

PHENOMENOLOGY
Max Scheler was born in Munich of a Jewish mother and a Protestant father. He studied philosophy at the University of Jena under the
idealist 'philosopher of life' Rudolf Eucken, and became a Privatdozent there in 1901. He returned to Munich in 1907 and came under
the influence of Brentano and Husserl, but in 1910 he retired to follow the life of an independent scholar in Berlin. In 1917-18 he worked
for the German Foreign Office as a diplomat. After the war he returned to teaching and was appointed professor of philosophy and
sociology at Cologne. He also converted to Catholicism, but he gradually moved away from his commitment as he developed his own
religious and philosophical concept of a 'cosmic becoming'. He moved to the University of Frankfurt shortly before his death.

METHODOLOGY/ KNOWLEDGE
[1] Scheler made full use of the phenomenological method and indeed went much further than Husserl in applying it to all aspects of
human consciousness and focusing particularly on what he regarded as 'essential' to human personality, namely, feelings, and especially
love, rather than just on reason or volition. Thus, in a sense, emotions are 'cognitive' and can be said to 'intend' their own objects [a]. In
his later work [see Man's Situation in the Cosmos] he placed great emphasis on 'life philosophy' and man's being situated in nature and
culture, arguing that this had been neglected by more cognitive and rationalist philosophies [b]. At the same time he sought to reconcile
this with phenomenology's concern with Geist, that is, 'spirit' or 'mind'. He accepts that knowing is an intentional act towards an
object, but he stresses that knowledge itself is to be interpreted in pragmatic or instrumentalist terms [c]. It must be understood in the
context of the uses to which it is to be put rather than as an intellectual relationship between the knower and the world. Ideas brought
into being by spirit through life's 'realizing conditions' [see 4c] do not always 'work'. Throughout his philosophical career [but especially
in Sociology of Knowledge] he distinguished three kinds of knowledge, each with its own function:
(1) Scientific knowledge. This is knowledge of contingent particulars, and it is characterized by man's attempt to achieve control over
the natural world and human society [d].
(2) 'Essential' knowledge. This is knowledge of 'essences', 'universals', or 'structures' of real or imagined things categories of
being,and requires the use of reason and the phenomenologist's eidetic reduction. Man's motive for seeking this kind of knowledge
is love [e].
(3) Religious knowledge. This consists of knowledge of 'Absolute Being' or God and of man's 'salvation'. Man's aim is to
achieve oneness with this 'ultimate ground' of reality. This union is to be achieved through a synthesis of scientific and essential
knowledge; and Scheler allows that we can have direct experience of the Divine [f]. Similarly we can experience directly the feelings
and moods of another person, perceivable in bodily events, although the 'intimate sphere' remains private and closed to our inspection.
Indeed, he implies that it is through the prior giveness of others that we come to know our own selves [g].

PSYCHOLOGY/ PHILOSOPHY OF MAN

[2] Implicit in Scheler's account of three kinds of knowledge is a particular view of human 'psychology'. In his early period (1897-
1920/22) he developed an extensive and subtle survey of feeling and value [see The Theory of Sympathy and Formalism in Ethics].
There are two key features of his phenomenological-reductive analysis of our mental life. Firstly, he rejected any sharp distinction
between cognition and emotion; he supposed both feeling and reason to be functioning in the activity of the mind as a
whole [a]. Secondly he argued that feelings are not just subjective states. They are intimately joined to values which are yet independent
of them (as colours are of the things we see as coloured). Feelings thus have an objective aspect [b]; and it is these that can provide
a foundation for formal principles such as those of a categorical imperative.
In his later work [Man's Situation in the Cosmos] he traced four stages in the evolutionary development of life in the "biopsychological
world": (i) an unconscious vital impulse or life force this manifests itself in all forms of life culminating in man; (ii) instinctual
behaviour, innate and functional, which is found in higher forms of life above the plants; (iii) associative behaviour, or memory, which is
'conditioned, modifiable through learning, which is exhibited in animals and particularly in man; and (iv) practical intelligence [c],
which again is characteristic of the higher animals and especially man.

METAPHYSICS/ RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY

[3] Scheler's more metaphysical and religious thought tends to be developed in his later period (1920-1928). Initially he was concerned
to provide a defence of his conversion to Catholicism [On the Eternal in Man]. He talks of our experience as a 'sea of being' which the
ego splits into 'subjective' and 'objective' realms. But underlying this experience is the 'Absolute', infinite spirit, the ground of being . This
is rational but at the same time it manifests itself as an irrational force working through individual beings [a]. Phenomenological analysis
of our consciousness reveals the a priori structure of a specifically religious dimension or 'sphere' in which Being-in-itself is exhibited as
the 'numinous', possessing such attributes as holiness, personality, infinite goodness, power, and self-sufficiency. These can be articulated
and communicated through the myths, dogmas, and rituals (prayer, acts of repentance, etc.) which originate from within ourselves. Our
response as 'God-seekers' to these arises from the feelings of 'nothingness' and 'infinite dependence' we experience in the face of the
Divine [b]. But we can choose to 'fill' this sphere in a variety of ways. We may opt for faith in God our response being genuinely
authentic if we experience and acknowledge Him. Or our experience can be empty the worship of an 'idol', in which case our
response is inauthentic. Alternatively we can adopt an agnostic position and leave the sphere open to nothingness.
Scheler gradually moved away from his Catholicism and came to espouse a more pantheistic position [see Man's Situation in the
Cosmos]. He now regarded God, the world, and man as a unitary process of becoming in 'absolute' time. (By this he meant the time
which is implicit in all natural processes of change and which is presupposed by time as measurable. It is thus not the Newtonian concept
but a view more in line with that promoted by Einstein.) Within this unitary process Spirit realizes itself in ideas, but to do so it needs to
work through history, geography, society, and so on, all of which are manifestations of the life-energy or impulsion. God is thus seen no
longer a primal creator but as inseparable from the cosmic process, incomplete and undergoing change with it . Scheler says that "man
reaches the consciousness that he is an ally and co-worker of God only in the process of his own development and self-
knowledge" [Man's Situation, IV] [c].
[4] Scheler rejects all mind-body dualisms and accounts of man that purport to locate his 'essential nature' in a conscious thinking self, a
pure reason, pure consciousness, or a transcendental ego. Man, differs from all other animals in his 'spirit'. By spirit he means not a
substance but "a hierarchical structure of acts" [Man's Situation, III], which 'objectifies' both the 'psychic' and the 'physical' the two
aspects of the life process. As he says: "The intentions of the spirit intersect, as it were, with the temporal processes of life" [ ibid.]. The
dualism we encounter in man, for Scheler, is the non-pernicious antithesis between spirit and life [a]. Man's spirituality is manifested in
his freedom to detach himself from both his inner psychophysical condition (exhibited in self-consciousness) and from the environment
(exhibited in his attitude of objectivity towards it), and to restructure the natural world in terms of categories such as substance, causality,
space and time. Implicit in this is man's awareness of reality as a consequence of the power of the environment to 'resist' his inner
drives [b]. Scheler rejects views which either identify spirit with the 'rational idea (or form)' possessing its own original energy or
creative power or which attribute all man's culture-producing activities to his capacity to repress his impulses. Instead, he argues
that through the phenomenological reduction, which for him involves the inhibiting of inner drives and the redirection of the vital energy
or impulsion (which does not belong to spirit itself), man's "fundamental characteristic" his capacity "to isolate essence from
existence" can be exercised. In order to realize ideas spirit needs also to utilize the environment's material conditions [c], though the
ideas are in consequence degraded, and the 'purity' of spirit lost.
Scheler's philosophical anthropology reflects also his later religious philosophy. He sees man as a spiritual 'unity of activity' with
Ultimate Being. The emphasis is now on the concept of the person understood as "the centre of action within a finite mode of being"
[Man's Situation, II]. The individual spirit is unique and autonomous and is not a mere part of a wider spiritual totality [d]. While he is
like other animals in that he can acquire scientific knowledge (and hence control of Nature), he is unique in his possession of reason and
his capacity for knowledge of 'essences'. Scheler distinguished a private and a common aspect of the person. The common aspect is that
which is possessed by oneself and others through shared experiences; and this is the basis of participation in social and institutional
structures whether of church or state. However, he recognised that there are philosophies which have attempted to discover or explain
the nature of man in ways other than the phenomenological. Thus the natural and the life sciences can contribute to knowledge of what it
is to be man, though Scheler rejected any 'reductionist' analysis of man's 'idea' or spiritual nature. Mechanical and teleological
explanations represent two modes of observing and describing the same psychophysical unity [Man's Situation, III]. There is
therefore no incompatibility between physical causality and man's spiritual autonomy; and we do not have to invoke any noumenal
substrate or dualist thesis [e]. Scheler's investigations into the interplay between the scientific and philosophical accounts of human
existence led to his classification of different philosophical anthropologies: (1) man as a religious being; (2) man as a rational animal
homo sapiens; (3) man the tool-maker; (4) man as fallen being egocentric and 'diseased'; (5) man as the 'superman'. [See
also Sociology of Knowledge.]

ETHICS
[5] [See especially Formalism in Ethics and The Nature of Sympathy.] Ethical and aesthetic values for Scheler are cognitively and
emotionally a priori, in so far as reason and emotion are preconditions of experience. So what are values? They are the universal and
essential properties of objects by virtue of which we call them good. He distinguished five types all located in what he called man's
'order of love' (ordo amoris) and each experienced in particular kinds of feelings [a]. In ascending order of quality they are: (1) sensory
values, such as pleasant and unpleasant; (2) pragmatic values needs and utility; (3) 'life' values, for example, nobility and
'ordinariness'; (4) mental or 'spiritual' values, subdivided into aesthetic, juridical, and cognitive (in relation to truth); and (5) religious
values, especially the holy and the unholy.
The purpose of ethics for Scheler was (as in the case of knowledge) broadly utilitarian and pragmatic to achieve authenticity, love and
oneness with others and with God [b]. He contrasted what he saw as the authenticity and spontaneity of one's "ideal responsibility to be"
(idealisches Seinsollen) with the artificial formality of the "ethical obligation to act" (ethisches Tunsollen). In achieving the former we
genuinely encounter and respect the subjectivity of another person; and this transcends understanding, empathy, or even the feeling of
"being at one" with him (Einsfhlen) [c]. In ascending from the qualitatively lower values to the highest we experience love, culminating
in what Scheler called 'fulguration' (Aufblitzen) the 'lightning flash or intuition of the loved object' value. Love is thus the foundation
of religious ideals [d].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Scheler is of particular interest for his use of the phenomenological method to analyse values and religious feelings rather than just
consciousness and experience in the Husserlian manner. His sociology of knowledge, which attempts to describe the relationships
between distinct but interdependent spheres of the natural and human sciences, is also important, as is his contribution to philosophical
anthropology in general. He has, however, been criticized for his concentration on emotion and action and for his 'pragmatic' approach to
knowledge and ethics. It is argued that he has not paid sufficient attention to theory and intellectualizing. It is probably fair to say that
while Scheler was right to reject the empty formalism of Kant's ethics, his own claim that values and emotions are revealed in subjective
experience by phenomenological analysis and are 'objective' realities has not been satisfactorily demonstrated. As against this, he
deserves credit for his attempts to overcome the traditional distinction between cognition and feeling by relating them within the context
of the mind as a functioning unity.

SCHLICK
(1882 1936)

LOGICAL POSITIVISM/ CRITICAL REALISM

Moritz Schlick was born in Berlin and studied physics at the Universities of Heidelberg, Lausanne, and Berlin from which he gained
his Ph.D in 1904 (his supervisor being Max Planck). He then pursued further studies in the natural sciences at Gttingen and again at
Heidelberg and Berlin. He started his teaching career as lecturer in 1911 at Rostock, and after a year at Kiel he was appointed professor
of the philosophy of the inductive sciences at Vienna in 1922. He there became the leading figure in the 'Vienna Circle' of positivist
philosophers and scientists, and wrote prolifically in both fields. Apart from a brief period at Stanford he remained at Vienna until his
untimely death at the hands of a mentally disturbed student.

KNOWLEDGE
[1] Schlick's epistemology was grounded in the distinction between necessary and empirical propositions. In his early period
[see General Theory of Knowledge] he criticized two key theses:
(1) He rejected the possibility of synthetic a priori judgements, largely because of the incorporation of Newtonian physics within the
more embracing (and arguably more correct) theory of relativity. Influenced by contemporary suggestions that general laws of nature
might be regarded as analytic or conventional judgements, Schlick accordingly returned to the clear traditional distinction between
logically necessary propositions as analytic and a priori and contingent empirical propositions, which are synthetic and a posteriori ['Is
there a Factual A Priori?']. (However, he allowed that there might be a place for necessary but synthetic propositions in logic and
mathematics, though not in their application to the empirical world) [a].
(2) He disagreed with any search for incontrovertible 'foundations' of knowledge. [See General Theory of Knowledge.] Instead he argued
in favour of a reliance of 'scientific' investigations of the phenomenal world on propositions purporting to describe reality and which
were to be accepted until they had been shown to be false [b]. Knowledge for Schlick was essentially knowledge of 'sameness' of
sense data, memory images, or conceptual structures, ordered mathematically, as when we know something as being something else (for
example, that a cat is a mammal). Knowledge thus comes to be of relations between phenomena and not their content. Rejecting idealism
Schlick called his position 'critical realism' [c]. Schlick subsequently changed his views [see 'The Foundations of
Knowledge']. Philosophy was no longer to be regarded as a search for knowledge; it is not a 'science'. Instead, he said, its function was
essentially one of logical analysis to investigate and attain an understanding of what is involved when we say we have knowledge in a
variety of fields [d].

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE
[2] Schlick was interested in the question how language is used to articulate 'science' or knowledge. Initially [General Theory of
Knowledge] he was concerned with the meaning of propositions which he defined as sentences (composed of written and spoken
symbols) together with the logical and linguistic rules for their use. It is as a result of our failing to attend to these rules (as when we
sometimes illegitimately formulate sentences in subject-predicate terms) that philosophical errors arise. Violations of linguistic rules
occurs also in metaphysics when attempts are made to know the content of phenomena instead of confining attention to relations
between them [a].
After he had changed his views about the nature of the philosophical enterprise he became interested in the different ways one could talk
about the world. This approach allowed a resolution of the conflict between idealism and realism: it was no longer a 'factual' issue.
Likewise he considered it a matter of convenience whether we should regard the data of science particles, waves, and so on as
'real' or 'unreal' ['Causality in Contemporary Physics'], and whether we should consider the human organism in mental or in physical
terms (though he later adopted a more 'neutral monist' position) [b]. And he came to regard philosophy more generally as the activity of
seeking the meanings of the units out of which language is constructed. These rules would, he thought, lead to 'deictic' definitions, that
is, where the propositions are determined by reference to the context of their utterance 'Facts and Propositions']. He sought now to show
that it was through our ignoring the different contexts and thus different rule systems governing the use of ambiguous expressions that
philosophical problems arise. At this stage Schlick seemed to think it is sentences rather than propositions that have meaning this
being given by the rules for use [especially 'Meaning and Verification'] [c]. His criterion for meaning was verifiability. Having identified
the rules, one can interpret the sentences in order to discover whether they are meaningful, that is, whether there are circumstances or
facts which would make them true or false. In his earlier period verifiability was understood in terms of the relating of rules to empirical
data by means of a process of reduction. He later appealed to the idea of 'basic' sentences as containing the ostensively definable
observational terms (such as 'this', 'here', 'now', 'of this kind' and so on),and which he called 'constatations' or 'confirmations'
(Konstatierungen) ['Foundations of Knowledge'][d]. Those sentences which are in principle unverifiable for which there are no
confirmation procedures are meaningless. Either they violate the rules of use the 'logical grammar', or they are being made to
operate in the absence of rules altogether. As examples of meaningless propositions Schlick gave self-contradictory assertions and
metaphysical utterances [e]. To deal with the objection that verifiability by experience is essentially subjective being grounded in
one's own mental states, Schlick distinguished between the 'content' of experience and 'structural relations' between an individual's
experiences [f]. While the former are lived through and private to each person, the latter are identical for all individuals, and are the basis
for objective scientific knowledge articulated mathematically.

ETHICS
[3] [See Problems of Ethics.] Consistently with his acceptance of the verifiability criterion, Schlick rejected as meaningless abstract
ethical propositions supposedly about absolute ideals, duties, obligations. Instead he advocated an ethics grounded in the human quest
for the maximization of happiness in principle empirically testable. He was not, however, thinking of a crude hedonism but of the
realization of the quiet joy we experience when we perform actions for their own sake [a].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Having rejected 'fundamentalist' approaches to knowledge, Schlick came to think of philosophy as an investigation into what knowing in
various fields involves, and more particularly to be an examination of the various linguistic structures through which knowledge is
expressed. The practice of philosophy therefore becomes a search for 'meanings', which Schlick the logical positivist defined by
reference to the verifiability criterion. Most of the standard objections to his thesis centre on the notion of verification. What is the
logical status of the principle itself? Is it verifiable, and if not how can it be meaningful? Is the criterion of meaningfulness perhaps too
narrow? Some critics have argued that he seems to have committed himself to an antirealist position. Schlick's attempt to solve the
problem of the alleged subjectivity of empirical verifiability by distinguishing between 'private' contents and 'public' real structural
relations has also been questioned as entailing metaphysical assumptions which are therefore not strictly meaningful and fail to provide
proper knowledge. A further objection has been made that there is an unresolved tension in Schlick's account of meaning in that he
seems to appeal to a 'use' theory as well as to verifiability.

JASPERS
(1883 1969)

EXISTENTIALISM
Karl Jaspers was born in Oldenburg, Germany. His father was a lawyer and banker. He studied law at the universities of Heidelberg and
Munich and then medicine at Berlin and Gttingen. He gained his medical doctorate from Heidelberg in 1909, specializing in psychiatry,
and his Habilitation in psychology in 1913. He became professor of psychology at Heidelberg in 1916, but having transferred his
interests to existential issues was appointed to a professorship in philosophy there in 1921. He was not permitted to teach from 1937
onwards (his wife was Jewish) but he was reappointed at the end of the war. In 1948 he took up a post at Basel University in
Switzerland.

PHILOSOPHY OF MAN/ METAPHYSICS/ RELIGIOUS PHILOSOPHY

[1] [See his three volume Philosophy for the most comprehensive presentation of his thought.] Jaspers employed the phenomenological
method but rejected attempts to develop philosophy as a 'rigorous science' [a].Philosophy has to be lived; philosophy, he said, does not
cognise objects but elucidates, makes actual the being of the thinker. He starts by analysing and describing 'first person' experiences, that
is, sensibilia, all kinds of intuitions, feelings, and emotional states such as anxiety, love, despair. However, to achieve a deeper analysis
he makes use of a number of key concepts. Firstly he distinguishes between Existenz and Dasein. These modes are
interdependent. Dasein relates to man's existence in time as revealed through perception and knowing. But this does not address the 'real'
self or origin (Ursprung) which for Jaspers possesses Existenz. This refers to man's eternal 'inner' nature, the 'transcendental ego',
through and in which he experiences authenticity, freedom, and value, as well as his loneliness, and through which he realizes his
possibilities. In these possibilities and choices the self is inexhaustible and thus not analysable in scientific terms. Thus the real self
cannot be grasped through the theoretical concepts employed to discoverDasein; it is accessible only through lived experience [b].
In the course of such experience man runs up against paradoxes or conflicts relating to freedom and dependence, good and evil, true
opposed to false. In such circumstances he encounters Existenz as a 'boundary'. Chance, suffering, guilt and death are therefore called
'boundary situations' (Grenzsituationen). These Jaspers sees as sources of anxiety which man experiences existentially and which
characterize his 'alienation' from a world in a state of continuous temporal and spatial flux. But at the same time he regards anxiety and
the feeling of loneliness as sources for hope; for awareness of this condition can produce a sense of urgency and can give man courage to
live authentically and with integrity now, in the present moment. Despair can therefore be transformed into hope. Jaspers also
introduced a second 'boundary' concept 'Transcendence', which arises from our encounter with the more specific paradoxes and
antinomies engendered by scientific thinking when it seeks to describe or explain our empirical selves, our existence, and the world as a
totality. In reflecting on our sense of freedom we become aware both of our finitude and our grounding in an ultimate 'horizon' or
dependence on a power which the world points to as a 'beyond'.
In his later writing [Reason and Existenz and Existenz-Philosophy] Jaspers became concerned with what he saw as the limitations of the
concept of Existenz, believing it to characterize a 'centre of action' but which tends to become isolated from the world. Accordingly he
related it to his central concept of the 'Encompassing' (das Umgreifende) which allows for the interdependence of selves,
intersubjectivity. He distinguishes three modes of perspectives of the Encompassing. (1) The empirical world, the world of our everyday
experience: this offers us some understanding of the ultimate and unlimited Encompassing of Being-as-such; (2) Existenz within
ourselves. We are, as it were, the Encompassing in so far as it is Being-as-it-is-for-us part of our consciousness; (3) The
Encompassing can be considered as the totality of Being itself of which each of us is a part. Thus we can say that the Encompassing
in general is to be understood as the totality of the world as 'object' and of our ourselves as 'subjective egos' in it. Existenz and
Transcendence are thus inseparably interlinked, interdependent by virtue of their being established in the concept of the
Encompassing [c].
[2] The faculty which allows us to point towards Transcendence (the world here being considered as a totality) and authentic existence is
Reason (Vernunft) as against understanding (Verstand), which Jaspers regards as analytical, as separating or fragmenting our
comprehension of the world (and thus far is deemed to be 'nihilistic'). He nevertheless accords a positive role to science as grasped
through the understanding in that it is undogmatic and grounded in experience. However, he stresses that the Encompassing, or Being as
such, which he comes to regard as pointing to God, cannot in its essence be grasped conceptually throughVerstand or Vernunft. The role
of philosophy as metaphysics then is to help us to interpret all the 'signs' or cyphers (symbols) which we encounter everywhere in
nature, art, myths, theological dogmas, philosophical systems, and in our reflections on life and death and which he regards
analogously as the language of God though he rejects standard proofs for God's existence [a]. And although there is no progression
towards a final, eternally valid ultimate system, or a completely reliable methodology of interpretation (for Jaspers there is no progress
in the history of philosophy), our investigations of our relationship to the world through psychology, epistemology and ethics can
illuminate the Encompassing as transcendent towards which we are thereby open. This openness to transcendence and to God (as
Being but not as moral law),and our striving to overcome our finitude to reach for the infinite all this constitutes what Jaspers calls
'philosophische Glaube' (belief/ faith). (And implicit is our acknowledgement of our freedom to choose, which is valuable in itself and is
to be respected.) However, personal commitment, the 'leap of faith' cannot in the last analysis be justified rationally [see Philosophical
Faith] [b].

KNOWLEDGE
[3] Jaspers' account of knowledge must be understood in the context of his view that philosophy has to be 'lived'. In so far as one's first
person experiences revealed phenomenologically can be compared to those of other 'selves' they do provide a basis for verification and
knowledge. But he accepts that such knowledge is uncertain though it has to be admitted that natural science cannot provide certainty
either, because it takes no account of the observer and is grounded in unexamined or incomplete assumptions. Complete knowledge of
the world by the transcendental self, characterized by intentionality, requires not only scientific and phenomenological methods but also
the recognition that the world points beyond itself [see sec. 2] [a].

ETHICS
[4] As already implied, Jaspers' existential philosophy has an ethical dimension, and central to this is his concept of freedom. Our
recognition of personal freedom to choose not only illuminates Existenz but also is the basis of spontaneous action; and in action we are
aware of our 'self' and the values associated with it. However, our freedom is not absolute in so far as our perception of the world and our
actions are limited by our 'historicity' [a]. Nevertheless we must make choices within these limitations. This gives rise to our experience
of guilt because we are always aware of a conflict between the demands of our authentic existential possibilities and extraneous
considerations; and we also recognise that whatever choice we make in a particular situation binds us to a corresponding set of
consequent choices. We cannot avoid this guilt. Jaspers rejects any external absolute standards which might remove from us the burden
of choice. Rather we must accept it, and it is in so doing that we can be said to be responsible. Recognition that we may not realize our
authentic possibilities or that we have run up against the limits of thought brings about our experiences of anguish or fear of the
consequences of choice. For Jaspers there are a number of ways we can respond to this. We can, for example, ignore the 'abyss' before
us. Or we can dismiss the problems as meaningless. But ideally we should accept the challenge of the experience of anguish and
summon up the courage to act authentically so as to realize our full potential as Existenz [b].
Ethics for Jaspers thus clearly has a central place in his existential philosophy in so far as in choosing and acting, in realizing value we
are engaged in the process of 'self-disclosure'. But he stresses that ethics is not just a matter of self-regulation of individuals in a
community. Both that I 'am' and my self-disclosure depend on my being reflected in other selves or existences. I can be free only to the
extent that I have a view to achieving such a relationship [c] Jaspers talks of the 'loving-strife' of communication. But by this he
means more than just friendship or professional relationships. True existential communion is 'ineffable', transcending space and time.
This is of course an ideal; we cannot escape our finitude and the inevitability of death. But it is in the conflict between endless striving to
pass beyond the limits of our existence that we discover such transcendence.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Despite his opaque style and the repetitiousness of much of his writing, Jaspers has made a significant contribution to existential
philosophy underpinned by a phenomenological methodology, and moderated by reason (in contrast to more extreme irrational
varieties), but yet placed within a religious framework. He is important for his emphasis on commitment, authenticity, and freedom
(albeit limited by the historical dimension) as central to his ethics; for his original concept of the 'encompassing' in its various
manifestations; and also for his sceptical attitude to the epistemological claims of science. Nevertheless, a criticism often made is that his
philosophy is an attempt to talk about what he himself said lies beyond the boundaries of Transcendence and Existenz. Many
commentators are not convinced by his appeal to 'ciphers' and analogy (which, it may be remembered, is characteristic of many medieval
and Renaissance philosophers).

ORTEGA Y GASSET
(1883 1955)

ECLECTICISM
(EXISTENTIALISM/ 'RATIO-VITALISM')
Jos Ortega y Gasset was born in Madrid into an aristocratic family. He was educated by the Jesuits near Mlaga, at the University of
Madrid, gaining his doctorate in 1904, and at the Universities of Berlin, Leipzig, and Marburg. In 1910 he became professor of
philosophy at Madrid, where he remained until the start of the civil war in 1936 when he went into voluntary exile. Throughout this time
he was actively involved in politics and journalism. He returned to Spain after the second world war and in 1948 he founded the Instituto
de Humanidades.

METAPHYSICS
[1] [See especially Meditations on Quixote and 'Truth and Perspective'.] Ortega supposed it to be the job of metaphysics to articulate an
ultimate reality from which all being is derived. He rejected the opposition between 'realist' philosophies, which emphasized the primacy
of things known by the self, and 'idealist' theories which supposed the individual self to be ontologically prior to other things. Instead he
regarded the self and things to be interdependent and as such to constitute the real [a]. "I am I and my circumstance", he wrote
[Meditations]. But the self is not a mere passive receptive entity. It is active, a creative manifestation of life though Ortega does not
accept any notion of a 'vital force'. He is also dismissive of abstract reasoning. He tries therefore to blend rationalism with vitalism [b];
hence the name he gives his metaphysics 'ratio-vitalism'. Man's quest for knowledge, spirituality, fulfilment, and so on, are all
therefore comprehended under the general description 'life' or 'vitality'. Later Ortega came to recognise the limitations imposed on
individuals by virtue of their being situated in particular socio-cultural contexts the "historical horizons of human life" [c].

KNOWLEDGE
[2] ['Truth and Perspective'.] We cannot have absolute or transcendent knowledge not least because of our historicity. All our
knowledge has to be from some 'perspective' [a], that is, from a particular point of view of an individual life; and all such perspectives
are unique, necessary, and equally true. (He therefore called his theory of knowledge 'perspectivism'.).. Nevertheless, he distinguishes
the idea of an 'aristocracy of talents' from the 'sensualism of the masses' who unthinkingly accept the evidence of their own senses or
the 'authoritative' findings of science and philosophy [see 'Ideas and Beliefs']. He goes on further to reject all philosophies grounded in
sensory data and to argue in favour of an 'idealist logic'. This he sees as the production of 'aristocratic' understanding and creativity
which seeks to derive intellectual principles from the understanding [b]. These supposedly primary principles are arbitrary and
fundamentally unprovable. The tests of their 'validity' lie solely in their coherence and utility. It is quite mistaken to think of knowledge
as an attempt to 'mirror' nature. Rather it has to be seen as an activity which constructs or invents an 'unreal' world. Philosophy and
science, to the extent that they are dependent on conventionally agreed principles, are no more than 'mere ideas' to be 'played with' and
are always subject to revision in the light of their consequences [c]. Indeed Ortega calls these disciplines "mere exact fantasy".

PHILOSOPHY OF MAN/ ETHICS

[3] [Revolt of the Masses, 'Man the Technician', 'History as a System', Man and People.] Man, says Ortega, is different from the other
animals in that he is 'alien' to his situation. In his actions, by virtue of his imagination and memory, he modifies and reforms nature,
creating in it objects which had not previously existed [a]. These are technical acts which are exclusively human; and through these acts
man is enabled to carry out his 'project of existence'. Individual activity is directed towards self-realization. He regards this as an ethical
imperative. It is man's mission, he says, to use his freedom to realize his authentic self [b]; and this can be achieved through reasoned
choice and commitment to his life project or calling. Even the 'games' of philosophy and science may be suitable for this purpose. He
accepts that self-realization must be sought in the social context. But, somewhat pessimistically, he sees human societies as in constant
danger of stagnation or even collapse. Whatever the individual can do constitutes culture. In fact Ortega places great emphasis on the
individual. He distinguishes relationships between individuals as such, in which they behave responsibly and rationally, and relationships
between individuals and the social collective of laws, customs, governments, and so on, which he sees as essentially impersonal or even
subhuman but above nature. But while he recognises their usefulness in helping us to regulate our lives and provide opportunities for
self-fulfilment he exhorts the individual as the only source of creativity to be forever on his guard against the irrational forces of
the state [c].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Ortega y Gasset was an original yet eclectic thinker who attempted to reconcile different traditions idealism and realism, rationalism
and 'vitalism'. He is notable also for his emphasis on the individual as an active self, a creative manifestation of life, as against the
impersonality of state power; for his acceptance of historicity; and for his 'perspectivism' or constructivist and revisionary theory of
knowledge. Many philosophers today would criticize him for his rejection of objectivism and his adoption of coherence and utility as the
sole criteria in accordance with which logical axioms and basic principles are to be judged. His dismissal of 'vulgar' or 'plebeian'
uncritical reliance on sense experience and authority and his affirmation of an 'aristocracy' of talents 'playing with ideas' are likewise
unlikely to find favour with thinkers for whom philosophy is still seen as a quest or truth, knowledge and reality. Nevertheless one
should not underrate the seriousness of Ortega's enterprise. As a philosopher who advocated commitment, authenticity, and self-
realization in the individual's ethical life he remains particularly relevant to the contemporary human and cultural situation.

WITTGENSTEIN
(1889 1951)

ANALYTICAL PHILOSOPHY
1. SYSTEMATIC; 2. 'ORDINARY LANGUAGE'
Ludwig Wittgenstein was born in Vienna the youngest child of a large family. His father, an industrialist, was a Lutheran, but Ludwig
was brought up in his mother's Roman Catholicism (though he was to disassociate himself from the Church as an adult). The family
home was a centre of musical life (his brother Paul was the famous pianist). He was educated firstly at home and then in Linz before
studying mechanical engineering at the Charlottenburg Polytechnic in Berlin. From 1908-11 he carried out research in aeronautics at
Manchester University. Having become interested in philosophy he went to Cambridge to study with Russell at Trinity College until the
outbreak of the First World War. While serving in the Austrian army he worked on notes which led to the publication of his Tractatus in
1921. From 1920 to 1926 he worked as a primary school teacher in Austria having decided that there were no more philosophical
problems to be solved. But in 1929 he returned to philosophy with renewed energy, and having been awarded the Cambridge doctorate
for his Tractatus he accepted a lectureship there in 1930. He remained at Cambridge until 1941 (apart from a year living in a hut in
Norway to work on his Philosophical Investigations), by which time he had succeeded Moore as professor. During the World War II he
worked as a hospital porter and as a laboratory assistant before returning to Cambridge in 1944. From 1947 to 1949 he lived in isolation
in Ireland.

PHILOSOPHY OF LOGIC AND LANGUAGE/ KNOWLEDGE

[1] In his early work [Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus] the period of his logical atomism Wittgenstein supposed language to
consist of propositions (Stze), which are the means whereby assertions about the world are made, or through which thoughts about the
world are expressed. [See 3.1 ff.] In its 'projective relation to the world' a proposition is called the 'propositional sign' and is a 'fact'.
Wittgenstein says that the elements of a propositional sign correspond to the objects of thoughts. Propositions are made up of complex
expressions for which we can substitute descriptions. Ideally such propositions can be analysed, broken down ultimately into elementary
propositions consisting of 'simple signs', that is, (logically proper) names. Names stand for simple things in the world objects .
However, he gave no examples of elementary propositions, or of names, or of what things might be simple objects; and he remained
agnostic about achieving this. Objects may be related to or connected to other objects. Such possible connections are called states-of-
affairs (Sachverhalte) [TLP 2]. If the possible connections are actualized, they are facts in the strict sense (Tatsachen) and are then said
to be true (but otherwise false). Propositions, Wittgenstein says, are related to the states-of-affairs in that the propositions are
'pictures' (Bilder which means also 'images' or 'models') [2.1-2.225] rather as toy cars can be arranged on a table to illustrate a road
accident. There is thus a kind of correspondence or isomorphism between the names and the objects they stand for [a]. Logical constants
in elementary propositions ('all', 'some', 'is', 'not', for example) do not, however, belong to pictures and do not denote [4.0312]. Moreover,
although Wittgenstein supposed all genuine propositions to represent states-of-affairs in this way, he held that the picturing could be
shown only after the analysis of the complex propositions into elementary propositions.
Because propositions picture, Wittgenstein supposed they must have something in common with the states-of-affairs they represent.
What a picture has in common with what it pictures he calls the 'logico-pictorial form' [2.161-2.17]. Furthermore, in so far as all
propositions are pictures they must have something minimally in common with the reality they all picture: this is the logical form or
'form of reality' [2.18]. The difference that makes a picture different from that which it pictures is the 'representational form' [2.173-4].
Naturally neither the pictorial form nor the form of reality can themselves be pictured. Rather they are preconditions for picturing.
Wittgenstein maintains also that logical form, as mirrored in language cannot itself be expressed by means of language [b]. They cannot
represent what they must have in common with reality in order to be able to represent it, that is, logical form; to do so we should have to
stand with our propositions outside logic [4.12]. Propositions show the logical form of reality [4.121]. They are also manifestations of
thoughts, that is, a thought is a 'psychical' correlate of propositions and is thus itself a logical picture of facts [3 ff.]. While
names refer or denote objects, they do not have a sense in themselves but only in the context of propositions[3.1 ff.]. To understand a
name is to understand its reference. Propositions, by contrast, have a sense, in that we understand them as being related to the 'world'
as picturing it (this is not strictly 'reference') [4.021]. "To understand a proposition means to know what is the case, if it is true" [4.024].
Wittgenstein thus holds the view that the meaning of a proposition is determined by its truth-conditions [c], that is, the conditions under
which it is true. And this sense is made clear to us in so far as we should be able to see the constituent and interrelated names if the
propositions were analysed into elementary propositions.
Whether or not analysis of genuine complex propositions into elementary ones is possible in practice, Wittgenstein said the relationship
between propositions is truth-functional; and he invented the technique of truth-functional matrices to exhibit the possible relationships
[see 5 ff.]. Thus the truth of the conjunction 'p q' depends on the truth values of the propositional variables 'p' and 'q': 'p q' is true if and
only if both p and q are separately true, and false if either p or q is false. Wittgenstein identified two limiting cases: (1) when a
proposition is true for all possible combinations of the elementary propositions; (2) when a proposition is always false for all such
combinations. Propositions of the first kind are called tautologies, those of the second contradictories [4.46 ff.] [d]. Both types are not
strictly genuine propositions. Tautologies, which include all propositions and truths of logic, express no thoughts and say nothing about
the world. Neither do they have meaning, that is, sense (Sinn): but they are not nonsensical, because they have a function, namely, to
show us the logical structure of language and thus possibilities in the world. They also possess necessity, in contrast to genuine
propositions which are contingent and relate to a world which is 'accidental'. Thus 'Either it is raining or it is not raining' is necessarily
true but of itself it gives us no facts; it only sets out the limits of the possible. If contingently it is raining in the world, then the disjunct
'It is not raining' is not actualized. As for mathematical propositions these too, Wittgenstein argued, are 'senseless' but not nonsensical.
However, they are not tautologies. He supposed them to be equations which sanction us to substitute one expression for another, and he
also regarded them as necessary, in some sense imposed on us. But while they thereby show us something about the world they do not
'picture' it. In his later Philosophische Bermerkungen he adopted a 'constructivist' view [e], arguing that mathematical propositions are
'made' not discovered.
[2] After Wittgenstein returned to philosophy in 1929 he gradually came to criticize and eventually reject totally the doctrines implicit in
the Logical Atomism of the Tractatus. In his notebooks [Blue and Brown Books] and especially his posthumously
published Philosophical Investigations he attacked the view that words stand for objects or essences in some rigid or invariable
sense [PI I, 1; Brown Book, paras 1 & 2]. So how do words 'mean', have significance? Take the word 'game' [ PI I, 69 ff; Brown
Book secs 1 ff.]. There is no single entity or essence denoted by the word, which is a unique characteristic of all games; and to search for
one is futile. In some games a ball is used, in others cards. Most games are competitive, in others players play on their own (or perhaps
they compete with themselves?). Rather, we should talk of "family resemblances", an "over-lapping and criss-crossing" of characteristics
and relationships. His approach is thus now intrinsically 'holistic': 'meaning' is implicit in these relationships between words and in the
ways they are used, not in any kind of referencing or representing function. Furthermore the activity of pointing as the basis of 'ostensive
definition' is unreliable [Blue Book, pp 1-2; PI I, 27-35]. What is it we may be supposed to be pointing at the table, its brown colour,
its surface? Likewise, in asking what the 'meaning' of a word is, or the 'real form' of a proposition, or how we understand a language or
'know' something, we are liable to commit the same error of supposing that there is some entity an object in the world, an essence, or
a mental 'process' or 'entity' named by the word. To use a word is to participate in a 'language game' [for example, PI I, 7, and 21
ff.] [a]. Suppose a builder calls out to his assistant 'slab', 'beam', and the like, while pointing at some object. The assistant responds by
fetching the appropriate material. The words have functions in this 'game'. The language game 'played' by the builder and his assistant is
of course primitive and simple. So, as against his view in the Tractatus, Wittgenstein now argued that there is a multitude of language
games corresponding to different 'forms of life'; there is not just one universal form of language. That is why he rejected his earlier idea
of ultimate simples denoted by basic elements in our language. What we regard as ultimate or basic is relative to the language game
being played. However, he eschews any attempt to produce a systematic and definitive categorization of language (in terms of, for
example, assertions, imperatives, and so on). (Implicit here is a rejection, or at least ignoring of any Fregean 'sense'/ 'force'
distinction) [see, for example, PI I, 22-24] [b]. So how does language 'work'? A language, Wittgenstein says, uses rules which are either
implicit or explicit. They are to be understood in a wider sense than formal rules of grammar. Such rules guide correct usage of names in
a given language game. And in so far as the game is 'public', that is, played by others in a social context, the rules guarantee that I am
using words correctly, including those that purport to refer to 'private' experiences (sensations, images, volitions and so on). Indeed, there
can be no such thing as a purely private language to refer to such 'private' or 'inner' mental experiences. The correct use of 'psychological'
words referring to sensations, impressions, pains, beliefs, 'meanings', understanding in general cannot be determined by any kind
of introspection process; for there is no method by means of which we can compare our usage with new experiences so as to ascertain
that names are being used correctly. Similar considerations apply to the question of whether we can have thoughts without a
language [c]. We do not have to 'look within', as it were, but rather need only look at the different situations in which the word 'thinking'
is used. We shall then find that it is a mistake to suppose there is a single 'inner' activity called thought which must precede and be
'translated' into our language. As he writes:
One might say 'Thinking is an incorporeal process', however, if one were using this to distinguish the grammar of the word 'I think' from
that of, say, the word 'to eat'. Only that makes the difference between the meanings look too slight. (It is like saying: numerals are actual,
and numbers are non-actual, objects.) An unsuitable type of expression is a sure means of remaining in a state of confusion. It as it were
bars the way out. [PI I, 339].
I come to learn how to use psychological words correctly in the context of a 'public' language-game. For example, it was when I hurt
myself as a child that I first learned from others how to use the sentence 'I am in pain'. Indeed, according to Wittgenstein, this can be
seen as an aspect of pain behaviour. I do not have to appeal to any private state of being in pain. Moreover, the sentence 'I know I am in
pain' makes no sense at all. I can know that others are in pain by observing their behaviour or because they tell me they are. But clearly I
do not ask myself whether I am in pain. Already in the 1930s [Lectures] Wittgenstein had distinguished between different usages of 'I'.
The pronoun has different functions in 'I have a toothache' and 'I have a bad tooth'. In the latter it can be replaced by 'my body', but in the
latter case the 'I' has no reference it does not denote a possessor or 'Ego' [d]. As for proper names, Wittgenstein now thinks of them as
being defined in terms of a loose association with various descriptions their sense changing accordingly [e]: a name is thus used
without a fixed meaning [PI 79]. By the time he had written the Investigations Wittgenstein had also altered his view of the necessity
of the propositions of mathematics and logic. These are now seen to be necessary in virtue of the (non-compulsory) acceptance of rules
embedded in the relevant language 'game' [f]. It follows that because we set our own standards of consistency we can change the rules if
we so wish provided we are willing to accept the possibly chaotic consequences for our mathematical discourse as a whole.
In his last years Wittgenstein made some important contributions to epistemology. [See On Certainty.] His central thesis is
that scepticism, doubting makes sense only in the context of the foundational 'inherited background' which constitutes our 'world-picture'
and against which we distinguish between true and false [OC 94, 411] [g]. This picture, articulated in our language-games, includes such
propositions as 'I know I have a brain' [4], 'The earth has existed for many years past' [411], and 'I know I am in pain' [504]. This last
means nothing; certainly there is no inner state to which one can appeal [356]. Such propositions constitute a total system in which all
testing, confirmation and disconfirmation of a hypothesis takes place: "The system is not so much the point of departure, as the element
in which arguments have their life" [105]. Wittgenstein allows that a proposition such as 'This is a chair' has the same epistemological
status as '2 x 2 = 4', but again he says it is senseless to talk of knowing them if they are taken out of context and if per contra it is
possible to doubt them [455, 651]. The only special status they can be accorded is as being part of the 'background'. We cannot appeal to
empirical propositions to prove the existence of the external world [h]. The existence of the earth, he says [209] is part of the whole
picture which forms the starting-point of belief for him.
Similar considerations apply to claims to universal doubt (even if hyberbolic). We can make mistakes, but to seek to doubt everything is
crazy [for example, 71, 196, 217], and indeed is self-refuting, because to do so we would first have to understand the meaning of the
sentences we employ to express our doubt, and "...a language-game is only possible if one trusts something" [509]. Clearly we cannot
consistently doubt the language we use [i].

METAPHYSICS/ ETHICS
[3] For Wittgenstein in his Tractatus period 'metaphysical' and ethical propositions, and indeed all 'non-scientific' propositions can have
no sense. (In his later Philosophische Bermerkungen, he said that "the sense of a question is the mode of its answering" [66-7].)
According to him most philosophical problems arise only because we insist on regarding such propositions as factual. Strictly speaking,
they are not propositions at all. He says we do not understand the logic of our language [4.003]. As a result we sometimes attempt to
transcend the boundaries of language (as when we try to talk about the relation between language and the world). Or we do not recognise
that the grammatical form of our propositions often fails to reflect their logical form. The apparent logical form of a proposition need not
be its real one. All philosophy is a 'critique of language'[4.0031]. However, it is not a systematic 'science' [4.111] [a]. Its task is to make
our thoughts clear [4.112]. Yet, in its assumptions, stance, and content the Tractatus is in its own way a 'metaphysical' text perhaps in
the way that Kant's first Critique is. Essentially it is about the nature and limits of language and the relationship between thought and the
world. Its metaphysics is thus implicit in and coextensive with his logical atomism. What 'traditional' metaphysics is supposedly 'about',
however, lies beyond language and the world [5.633]. Moreover, because everything in the world is accidental, there can be no value in
it; a thing's value would have to be necessary. Both the subject or 'ego', in relation to which good and evil exist, and the realm of value
are said to be 'transcendental'. The subject, Wittgenstein says, is a 'limit' of the world [5.632] [b]. All these things which we can say
nothing about may be supposed to exist. We still think about their possibility when we contemplate the world itself as existing and as a
limited whole. This Wittgenstein calls 'the mystical' [6.45]. But even to say that such things exist is a nonsensical proposition; and this
must be "thrown away" like a ladder once one has climbed to the top [6.54]. If we cannot speak about it, we must be silent.
In his later philosophy the problem has shifted. We are no longer concerned with the world as a limited whole beyond which there is a
realm of the unsayable. What we may say now is relative to the language game we are playing. Perhaps there are 'metaphysical', ethical,
aesthetic, religious language games, with their own rules and criteria for use. (Arguably implicit here is also the requirement that a clear
demarcation be made between the methods of the natural sciences and those appropriate to the social sciences a view which was
developed by 'neo-Wittgensteinian' philosophers.) Wittgenstein in fact talks of different 'forms of life' [PI I, 23]. But what can their
purpose be? What can they tell us? To suppose metaphysical or ethical words, for example, are scientific would be to pull them out of
their proper context to misapply the appropriate rules. If we did this we would be moving beyond the 'limits' of the language
game [c]. If you want to play your own game, so be it: but what you are doing can be properly understood only from within by the
players themselves. They cannot be judged by criteria appropriate to a different game. Thus, although Wittgenstein could not empathize
with people who engaged in metaphysical speculation or participated in religious forms of life, it would seem that, as in
his Tractatus period, he wished to protect those realms including perhaps speculative philosophy itself, from the predations of
positivistically minded philosophers and scientists. Philosophy in a strict sense, however, has now taken on a role akin to that of therapy.
Its function is to prevent us from going astray in our reasonings by bringing us back to the way that language actually used in its
'ordinary', that is, proper and appropriate context [d]. Philosophical puzzles can be solved if we discover how they arose in the first
place:
When philosophers use a word 'knowledge', 'being', 'object', 'I', 'proposition', 'name' and try to grasp the essence of the thing, one
must always ask oneself is the word ever actually used in this way in the language which is its original home? What we do is to bring
words back from their metaphysical to their everyday use. [PI I, 116]
We must, he says gnomically [I, 309], "show the fly the way out of the fly-bottle".

CRITICAL SUMMARY
It is generally accepted that Wittgenstein created two philosophies. In the first, which received its definitive expression in the Tractatus,
he set out to present logical propositions as a set of necessary tautologies which reveal the structure of language and thereby the world.
Propositions have meaning by virtue of their contingent 'picturing' of facts in the world as actualized possible connections or 'states-of-
affairs'. Names as constituents of elementary propositions thus stand in an isomorphic relationship to the simple objects in the world
which they denote. It is in the context of this thesis that he presented his account of truth-functions.
Most of the objections which can be brought against his logical atomism were later made by Wittgenstein himself. The main problems
relate to the following.
(1) Language was conceived as having but one function: to picture the world and thereby communicate facts. However, there are
difficulties with the concept of isomorphic picturing. If we say 'The cat is on the mat', are we supposing there are three separate factual
elements in the world corresponding to three constituents of the one proposition? Might formulations in different languages entail
alternative correspondences? Wittgenstein was also faced with the problem of assessing the status of the propositions of
the Tractatus itself. His view that they were 'boundary statements' neither tautologies nor factual propositions is questionable; for
in his later writings philosophy ceased to be an activity of analysing structures to draw attention to the limits of what can and cannot be
said. It becomes instead an empirical study of the many different functions a language may perform. One's attitude to this second
philosophical approach must clearly depend on one's standpoint. Those in the logical positivist or empiricist tradition would object to
Wittgenstein's criticisms of attempts to assimilate other modes of discourse to the scientific, and to his move away from the view that
philosophy should seek to eliminate errors by uncovering the formal logical structures supposedly underlying our 'ordinary' informal
discourse. Even the 'systematic' philosophers in the analytic tradition are generally not in sympathy with his informal methods.
(2) Propositions were supposed to have meaning by virtue of their 'picturing'. Against this Wittgenstein now says that rather than looking
for 'meanings' we should examine the ways language works and how it is used. Philosophical problems arise because we fail to remain
within the boundaries of a particular mode of discourse, as when, for example, we treat sensations as if they were material objects.
However, many critics would argue that we need to have some concept of meaning (perhaps intentional or 'in the mind') before we can
know how to use language correctly. And they would say that use can relate to private rules which do not require public validation.
(3) Wittgenstein claimed to have found the way to eliminate philosophical mystery and error. His critics would say that in so far as his
species of linguistic philosophy "leaves things as they are" it is not very illuminating or progressive. However, he was not opposed to
any modification of conceptual structures or to the introduction of novel criteria for usage. His objection was to using terms belonging to
a particular mode of discourse as if different criteria were already applicable. Nevertheless it is still a matter for debate as to whether
philosophical problems can be so readily eliminated in this way.
We have talked of Wittgenstein's 'two' philosophies. However, it is important to appreciate the continuities as well as the differences
between his positions. In both periods he was concerned with the nature and function of language, and with the nature, origin, and
elimination of philosophical puzzles. In both periods too he was interested in 'boundaries', though in the Tractatus his concern was with
the boundary between language in general and the 'world', whereas in his later work the boundaries lie between different modes of
discourse. The possibility of a variety of modes of discourse grounded in different 'forms of life' does of course give rise to critical issues
concerning an alleged 'relativism' in his philosophy, which does not allow for any absolute standpoint for judging, or for a 'pragmatism'
according to which any mode of discourse may be introduced if deemed to be in some sense 'useful'.

HEIDEGGER
(1889 1976)

'ONTOLOGICAL' PHENOMENOLOGY
Martin Heidegger was born in Messkirch (Baden), Germany, where his father was a Catholic sexton. He was educated at Gymnasia in
Konstanz and Freiburg before studying theology, medieval philosophy, and phenomenology at the University of Freiburg under Husserl.
He gained his doctorate in 1914 and his Habilitation in 1916, and became a Privatdozent at Freiburg. In 1922 he was appointed a
professor at Marburg, but in 1928 he returned to Freiburg to take over Husserl's chair. Having joined the National Socialist Party he was
appointed Rector of the University in 1933. However, he resigned the following year. (His equivocal attitude towards Germany's Nazi
period is a still a matter of great controversy.) He ceased lecturing in 1944 but was allowed to resume his professorship in 1955. From
1959 he lived in increasing isolation in the Black Forest.

Sources: References to Being and Time are to sections or to the paginations of the eighth (1957) German edition (English translation,
Macquarrie & Robinson) thus, in the case of the latter, 'H. 7', for example.

METHODOLOGY/ ONTOLOGY/ PHILOSOPHY OF MAN

[1] Heidegger's central concern was with the concept of Being. [A capital 'B' is used throughout this essay where Being means Sein as
against 'beings' [see sec. 5 below] though translations of his various writings do not always follow this convention.]. However, he was
dissatisfied with various treatments of being in terms of Forms, substances, or categories, arguing that they failed to give an account of
Being as such leaving us only with a plurality of entities [Being and Time, sec. 1]. Interpretations of Being in terms of substance (for
example, Aristotle's parousia or ousia), matter, mind, noumena, substrata, and so on entities being grasped in their Being as 'presence'
['Anwesenheit'] [BT sec. 25; see also Kant and the Problem of Metaphysics, sec. 44] he found equally inadequate. A further objection
he had to this "metaphysics of presence" [Derrida's phrase q.v.] was that such philosophizing constitutes a fundamentally theoretical
approach to a putative objectivity. All such approaches constitute a falling away from the once recognised fact that Being is intrinsically
self-revelatory and identical with thought in the unity of physis and logos [see Intro. to Metaphysics, 4.3] [a]. Closely associated with
this position is his critique of a view of language as in some sense 'corresponding' to the world mirroring nature. Rather, what the
world is for us is determined by the way we understand it and this for him entailed practical involvement [b]. He therefore also
rejected any philosophy which supposes that a totally disengaged standpoint can be achieved. As "engaged agencies" [Charles Taylor's
phrase in 'Engaged Agency and Background'] embodied in the world we possess what Heidegger called a (non-theoretical) 'pre-
understanding' or 'background' in the context of which our actions make sense and enable us to articulate, albeit partially, our feeling or
sense of embodiment. Moreover, although in his early work he had employed Husserl's methods, his strictures came in due course to
apply also to phenomenology itself. Heidegger agreed that phenomena as mental states should be investigated (he initially shared
Husserl's aim to return to the "things themselves"), but he argued that systematic phenomenology failed to provide a unified single
meaning of Being, and remains committed to the 'theoretical stance'[see 2d]. He also rejected the concept of a pure transcendental ego on
the grounds that it provides only inauthentic self-understanding. We must take notice of the individual's personal life, history, and
character, and indeed of the historical dimension in which the individual exists. However, 'life' and 'historicality' must be raised up into a
consideration of Being in general and not left merely as a 'subjective' opposition to the 'objectivity' of science [c].
[2] [Being and Time, Part I, Division One.] For Heidegger the investigation of Being must start with an examination of the meaning of
being, and this in turn requires us to discover how things become intelligible to us how we understand them. Attempts to describe the
world in terms of essences, substances, mind, matter, scientific entities, and the like will not, however, assist us to achieve such an
understanding. This kind of theorizing is already a kind of abstraction, a distancing from the primitive concept of being itself. We have to
understand Being before we set out to categorize the world in substantial terms. Central to his analysis is the concept of Dasein [Being
and Time, H. 7]. This term means 'being here/ there' or 'being situated'. He uses it to refer to ourselves as beings who experience
themselves in the everyday situation as being located, indeed, 'thrown' (geworfen) into the world [H. 135; also sec. 38] and as concrete,
active, already belonging to a 'lived' world. (This has something in common with Husserl's Lebenswelt) [a].
Although Heidegger was critical of what he saw as the theoreticizing and abstractional characteristics of phenomenology, he
nevertheless continued to use the method himself to examine, observe the phenomena of our everyday existence. He called this the
'ontic' level (and in the case of man it is described as the Existenziell [H. 11-15; sec. 4]. But more importantly the method was employed
to reveal or 'uncover' the very underlying structure of human existence. The term referring to this is 'existenzial' [for example, H. 12, 56].
This describes the ontological level which, he asserts, explains the ontic level. Such phenomena which have been hidden, covered up,
constitute an implicit 'pre-theoretical' sense, a 'primordial understanding' of our situation as personal agents in the everyday world
conditioned by cultural and historical factors, a world in which we, as it were, know our way around. Human existentiality in this
primary sense is manifested when the individual reaches Being through realizing his anticipated possibilities [b].
The relation of ourselves to Being the fuller implication of Dasein as being-in-the-world is further analysed in terms of three
features or aspects. Firstly, he talks of 'moods', that is, being-there as a state of mind[H. 134; sec. 29]. Examples are facticity and
thrownness. Secondly, being-there is considered as understanding [sec. 31] in the sense that we can be said to take a stand on our
being when we choose to embark on a project. Thirdly, being-there is discourse [sec. 34] [c], which involves the articulation usually
by means of language of the intelligibility of things in the world. Heidegger himself gives a concrete example [H. 69] to illustrate
what he means and what is involved in the concept of Dasein. Consider someone using a hammer in his workshop. When engaging in
this activity what he is attending to is not the hammer, nails, wood and their various properties but rather the practical project the
process regarded as leading to an end having a purpose, fulfilling a function. Heidegger here distinguishes between what he calls
'present-at-handedness' (Vorhandenheit) ('closeness to', or 'being in front of oneself') [for example, H. 74] and 'ready-to-handedness'
(Zuhandenheit) [H. 69]. Objects considered as present-at-hand are in a sense abstractions from their practical use, particularly when they
are treated as physical objects for scientific investigation and explanation. This is characteristic of the 'theoretical stance'. In our
everyday engagement with the world, however, objects are ready-to-hand, are being used, appropriated for projects; and this for
Heidegger constitutes primacy present-at-handedness being secondary or derivative. (Even what he calls a 'voluntative theory of
Dasein' relates to 'Being-present-at-hand' [d]. The experiencing of resistance, Heidegger says, is possible ontologically only by reason of
the world's disclosedness as being presupposed. [H. 210]). In this utilization lies what he calls the world's 'worldhood' ( Weltlichkeit) a
holistic network of functionalistic relationships [sec. 14]. He regards this worldhood as the primary object of intentionality in terms of
which alone theoretical and practical intentionality, in the Husserlian sense, can be understood. Implicit in this approach is a dispensing
with any 'bracketing' procedure [e].
This example is important because (1) it draws attention to the possibilities of Dasein, and (2) it points to the significance for Heidegger
of the relationship between self and the world. With respect to the first point, when engaged, practising in the world, and in the light of
our 'pre-understanding', we are free to appropriate objects in any way we choose in accordance with our needs and projects. Here we
"take a stand". Multitudes of projects are open to us. A given item can be used in a variety of ways many of which are of course
derivative, for example, for scientific purposes. There is thus always more to Dasein than is contained in descriptions of say, bodily
appearance, mental characteristics, and so on, all of which Heidegger terms 'factuality' (Tatschlichkeit) possessed by physical objects
in general [H56]. In Dasein's 'thrownness', engagement with the world, the concrete limitations which define the possibilities are referred
to as facticity (Faktizitt) [H. 56, 135]. As for the second point, Heidegger argues that through this activity Dasein acts as a 'clearing'
through which entities in the world can reveal themselves, 'stand forth' [H. 133]. Dasein is thus the instrument through which Being itself
emerges from concealment into presence [see also sec. 44] [f].
Being-in-the-world is therefore for Heidegger a 'unitary phenomenon' the basic determinations of which are self and the public world
which includes the recognition of the presence of others (he rejects approaches to the 'other' which appeal to analogy or empathy, for
example) [see secs 25-6]. But Dasein is not just another thing. In its very being it has a relationship towards Being, which is itself one of
being. What we are is clearly determined by our environment, the opportunities, tools, facilities it offers. On the other hand, the being of
the everyday world in which we exist as agents has to be understood in terms of what we do, the choices we make, the way we use
things in order to achieve our projects. There can be no ultimate ground behind or underlying this unity of being-in-the-world. Being is
therefore to be understood as an 'absence of ground'. The totality of our involvement in and response to the world of things and
persons, that is, our 'being-in-the-world' as a unitary phenomenon and in terms of which we make sense of our existence, is referred to
by Heidegger as 'care' (Sorge). Care is thus the Being of Dasein [g] in that it is characterized in terms of the existential formula for the
structure of care: "ahead-of-itself Being-already-in (a world) as being-alongside (entities encountered within-the-world) [H. 182, 192,
317; and especially secs 41, 42]. By this Heidegger means that Dasein is (i) aware of its possibilities; (ii) it is 'thown' and 'factical', that
is, finds itself in a particular situation in which both the 'state of mind' in which this throwness is revealed and the possibilities open to it
are determined; and (iii) that as alongside other worldly entities it is engaged in its daily activities .
Although Heidegger has constructed his analysis of Dasein with reference to the everyday involvement of human agents with the world,
this involvement has, as it were, a downside in that it can be characterized as a 'falling' [sec. 38]. What he means by this is that we can be
wrapped up in our own projects, or in a habitual and unreflective following of social, cultural conventions he frequently talks of our
conforming to what others (the 'they' or the 'one) do or say so that we become self-forgetful. We lose sight of what genuinely matters
not least of being itself. Thus, while the world can be regarded as the material on which we can work creatively to realize our ends, it
is also that which can lead us astray; and this alienates us from our obligation to fulfil ourselves. Such existence he calls inauthentic .
This inauthenticity or 'everydayness' is characterized not only by ephemerality but also by finitude. We recognise that our 'being-in-the-
world' must end in death and hence 'loss'. Our feeling of loss is referred to by Heidegger as anxiety or uneasiness ( Angst) [H. 182]. When
in this state of mind, Dasein, he says, "finds itself face to face with the 'nothing' of the possible impossibility of its existence" [H. 186,
266]. But this 'nothing' Dasein's 'non-being', while not an 'entity' is, for Heidegger not an empty term; for he regards this as the
'clearing' or 'absencing' which is a precondition for the occurrence of 'self-manifesting' ('presencing') of being through Dasein [h]. Dasein
as the 'clearing' is thus already temporal nothingness. [See also sec. 3] It is the light of this concept of 'fallenness' that Heidegger
understands man, in his practical dealings with the world, as both free and determined. We are free in so far as we can choose what,
when, and how to appropriate the 'equipment' of the world and thereby to make ourselves in face of our 'nothingness', as it were. But
this freedom is limited by our historical situation, our family, education, nation, and indeed by our own body as well as the changing
inner (psychological) and outer (sociological) events of our daily lives [for example, H. 188, 191; see also H. 366] [i].
[3] [In Division Two] Heidegger investigates the temporality (Zeitlichkeit) [secs 66-71] and historicality [secs 72-7] of Dasein. As we
have seen, the central feature of the lived relationship of ourselves to the world Dasein as being-in-the-world is (as is established
in Division One) care. The three aspects, (i) existentiality, (ii) our sense of facticity reflecting our 'thrownness' in the world, and (iii)
fallenness, are associated, respectively, with understanding, mood or disposition, and discourse (later to be modified to 'language');and
this concept of care, together with that of death, provides the basis for his later analysis of the temporality of Dasein. We have seen
Dasein as characterized in terms of its possibilities (choices, projects). Now, Heidegger says, it is clear that all such possibilities are
terminated with our death. It is this inevitable event that Dasein can comprehend both in its totality and in what he calls its 'mineness in
each case" (Jemeinigkeit) ("Dasein has in each case mineness... [it] is mine to be in one way or another... Dasein is in each case
essentially its own possibility" [H. 42; cf. 114-15].) One's death is uniquely one's own. It is through care as the basic condition of Dasein
that this constant threat of death is revealed. The three aspects of care are associated with the three aspects of the time dimension past,
present, and future, which in their connectedness constitute the 'ecstatic' unity of time ('ec-stasis': standing, reaching out towards death)
[Div. Two, I; and secs 65-6]. Clearly the fundamental aspect of care is manifested in Dasein's being-ahead-of-itself, in so far as it
apprehends termination of its finitude as a future event [a].
To the extent that Dasein is lost in the 'they' it must find itself, and to do so it must be 'shown' to itself in its possible authenticity. "In
terms of its possibility, Dasein is already a potentiality-for-Being-its-Self" [H 268]. The possibility of understanding one's ownmost and
uttermost potentiality-for-Being, that is, the possibility of authentic existence, Heidegger terms 'anticipation' [H. 262-7]. But the question
remains of Dasein's authentic Being-a-whole and of its existential constitution. Can it be attested to by Dasein itself? Can then the
anticipation of death, so far projected only in its ontological possibility, have an essential connection with the attested authentic
potentiality-for-Being? These are issues taken up in Division Two, II & III. Heidegger argues that the 'ontological possibility' of our
confronting 'being-to-death' is realized in 'conscience' (Gewissen). By this he means that we are called to an acknowledgement of our
responsibility for our own being: it takes us away from 'fallenness' and back to 'authenticity'. The 'voice of conscience' (Gewissen)
provides the 'attestation' (Bezeugung) of this potentiality [b]. And in our "wanting to have a conscience" there is, he says, our 'existentiell
choosing' to choose a kind of Being-one's-Self which he calls 'resoluteness' [H 270]. By this he means roughly Dasein's conscious
opening up to its circumstances and its determination to make appropriate choices that will be disclose itself to itself and reveal its
authentic possibilities: However, choices may be inauthentic one may be irresolute. Then failure to meet the obligations of conscience
gives rise to 'guilt' (Schuld), that is, a 'debt' the self cannot discharge [sec. 58]. Nevertheless, this is the ground of the self's determination
to achieve authenticity; for in recognising itself as guilty the self knows itself inwardly as possessing the capacity to escape from its
fallenness or 'forfeiture' to history and everyday distractions. 'Resoluteness' thus means "letting oneself be called forth to one's
ownmost Being-guilty" [H 305]. Heidegger also introduces the mode of 'destiny'. He distinguishes between individual destiny (or 'fate')
(Schicksal) and collective destiny (Geschick) [H 384]. The former is closely connected with what he calls 'existential time'. By this he
means one's entire life span as the ground of what one fundamentally is, namely, a human being. Man grasps this in recognising his
finitude. It has a dual aspect. In overseeing the entire life span he looks to the future ending in death as reaching back to assimilate his
past which becomes his present. But he also faces back into that past history in which the future has been given and for which it is
responsible. In understanding this the individual discovers his destiny as an authentic present, that is, a present which is achieved as a
result of the exercise of his freedom to live authentically and thereby to escape from fallenness and become 'historical' in a genuine sense
[for example, secs 72-76]. As Heidegger says, it is only when death, guilt, conscience, freedom, and finitude dwell together at the very
source of a being's Being that destiny is possible.
[Division Two, III] Heidegger's view that conscience attests to Dasein's being potentiality-for-Being-its-Self" leads to his ontological
analysis of care and of selfhood. His existential analysis of Dasein's potentiality-for-Being-a-whole as revealed that authentic being-
towards-death is anticipation and its authentic potentiality-for-being has been Interpreted as resoluteness. How can these be brought
together? What can death and the 'concrete Situation' of action have in common? Heidegger's procedure is essentially to show that
'anticipatory resoluteness' is intimately associated with Dasein, the Self, and care. Ontologically, he says, Dasein is fundamentally
different from the 'present-at-hand' or 'Real'. Its subsistence is not based on the substantiality of a substance but on the 'S elbststandigkeit'
(Self-subsistence or self-constancy) of the existing Self, whose Being as been conceived as care [H 303]. Now, the phenomenon of the
Self is already implicit in care, but the existential 'connection' between them needs to be discovered if we are to define the Selfhood of
Dasein ontologically. Kant is correct in that he does not allow reduction of the 'I' itself to substance, but he still takes the 'I' as subject,
the ontological concept of which characterizes not the Selfhood of the 'I' qua Self, but the selfsameness and steadiness of something that
is always present-at-hand. [H 320] The 'I' for him remains related to empirical representations without which it would be nothing.
However, for Heidegger, in saying 'I' Dasein expresses itself as Being-in-the-world, that is within the horizon in which the Being of other
entities (be they ready-to-hand or npresent-at-hand, or neither just 'subsistent'). This can be understood (i) in an everyday manner
in terms of the 'world' it is concerned with [Heidegger seems to adopt a more 'realist' position than Kant here]; or (ii) in terms of care;
and it is only through the latter that Selfhood can be discerned existentially, and in one's potetiality-for-Being-one's-Self, and through
which the Self's constancy gets clarified. [H 321-2] [c]. The ontological meaning, of care, the primordial unity of its structure, reveals
itself as temporality in that 'ahead-of-itself' is grounded in the future, in that temporality makes possible the unity of existence, facticity,
and falling. 'Anticipatory-resoluteness' thus casts light on Dasein's potentiality for authentic Being-a-whole. Dasein itself is thereby
characterized by temporality and 'historicality' [sec. 66]. Nevertheless, if all the variations of Being are to be Interpreted for everything
of which we say, 'It is', we need an idea of being in general a task Heidegger did not undertake in Being and Time.
.It should be noted that Heidegger's discussion of time as a process of becoming, Dasein's temporality, does not refer to time in our
everyday sense of earlier and later, measurable by clocks, dates, etc. [see especially Div. Two, IV and VI; also sec. 66], whereby Dasein
is positioned in the historical dimension. (Time in this sense is inauthentic temporality). Dasein is here characterized by insecurity, a
determination to hold onto the 'present-at-hand', possessions, relationships, by which we 'make things' present. Correlatively we seek to
forget the past and are in a state of constant expectancy in relation to the future. By contrast, in facing up to death as giving totality,
individuality, meaningfulness to existence, Dasein experiences time authentically in its ec-static unity [d]. Anticipating the future,
reliving, repeating the past, it achieves the moment of vision in the present. To the extent that our apprehension of our death is revealed
to us in a state of anxiety, Heidegger says that both authentic and inauthentic temporality are grounded in the temporality of anxiety in its
three temporal modes.
[4] Being and Time ends with a number of unresolved questions concerning the relation of Being to time [Division Two, VI]. Dasein has
been presented as disclosing Being. But Heidegger concludes by asking how this disclosure is possible. Do we have to go back to the
primordial constitution-of-being of that Dasein? Furthermore, there are problems with temporality. If the existential-ontological
constitution of Dasein's totality is grounded in temporality, how are we to interpret this 'ecstatical' projection of being, this mode of
temporalizing of temporality? Can we get from primordial time to the meaning of Being? "Does time itself manifest itself as the horizon
of Being?" There are other problems too. Can the unity of Being be reconciled with the plurality of Dasein? Is Heidegger's account of
finitude, the inevitable culmination of life in death, consistent with his assumption that the individual can be fully realized only when he
ceases to be real, that is when he ceases to be? And perhaps the key problem is how Being in itself is to be understood, that is, considered
apart from its revelation through the engaged agency of Dasein. Can this question be considered at all?
These are all issues that Heidegger no doubt had hoped would be resolved in a projected Division Three of Part One which was to be
devoted to the presentation of a fundamental ontology of Being. This was, however, never written. Neither was Part Two of Being and
Time, which would have considered (i) Kant's doctrine of schematism and time as a preliminary stage to his (Heidegger's) own treatment
of the problem of temporality; (ii) the ontological foundation of Descartes' 'Cogito, sum'; and (iii) Aristotle's essay on time, which would
have enabled Heidegger to identify the phenomenal basis and limits of ancient ontology. Heidegger says that the task of Part Two was to
be an exploration of the basic features of a phenomenological 'destruction' of the history of ontology the problematic of temporality
being the clue. By 'destruction' Heidegger means, negatively, that the ontological tradition from the ancient Greek philosophers down to
Hegel, as it is treated nowadays, must be shaken off, loosened up, but with the positive aim of 'dissolving' the concealment or forgetting
of being which he supposed that tradition to have brought about [sec. 6] [a]. The 'destruction' of Kant was only partially fulfilled.
In Kant and the Problem of Metaphysics he criticizes Kant for allegedly having omitted from the second edition of the Critique of Pure
Reason of any discussion of the role of the imagination as responsible for the activity of both the sensibility and the understanding. Kant
does in fact say [B xlii] that this and other changes were made in the interests of a more intelligible exposition and stresses that the
fundamentals of his system are unaffected. Nevertheless, Heidegger regards this omission as a mistake, in that he thinks Kant has
thereby missed a significant feature of the transcendental imagination [KPM, sec 31]. From the standpoint of its unifying role it can be
said to anticipate the gathering or synthesis of material drawn from both sensibility and understanding, and thus carries with it an
essentially temporal dimension. Temporality for Heidegger is, as we have seen, the very condition of human Dasein and is thus "the
basis of the possibility of selfhood". Time and the 'I think' are no longer opposed to each other; they are the same "primordially
identical" though Kant himself, Heidegger says, did not see this identity as such. Be all this as it may, this 'destruction' of Kant's
treatment of temporality makes little or no contribution to the exposition of the fundamental ontology of time and being which the
unwritten Division Three of Part One was to have provided. It would seem that Heidegger had come to realize that such an ontology
might not be attainable. Indeed in his subsequent work from 1930 onwards he would appear to have moved off in a new direction. This
brings us to the so called Kehre or 'turn' in his thinking though he stressed that his new approach was but a reorientation, with a
different emphasis on the still central concept of Being as presence.
[5] Heidegger's general approach [Introduction to Metaphysics] is indicated in his posing of the "fundamental question of metaphysics"
[ch. 1, p. 1]: Why does anything [ a being or 'essent'] exist? ['essent' is Heidegger's English translator's coinage for 'ein Seiendes'.] His
initial concern is to determine what is meant by 'essents' how they are to be understood as essents indeed, what the essence of
Being is; how to get beyond the "blunted, indefinite meaning of the word". [See also BT H. 6-8.] He starts with Heraclitus and
Parmenides, who, he says, identified the essent with phusis (according to Heidegger contentiously, through translation into Latin it
came to mean 'nature' ). This is interpreted as a special kind of process inherent in Being itself whereby essents become observable. It is
an emergence from the hidden. Heidegger argues also that for these early philosophers phusis was identical with logos. (He translates
Heraclitus's "the Logos is common" [Fr. 2] as "the logos is this togetherness in the essent"! [Intro. to Metaphys., 4.3].) He attempts to
show how in due course this concept became restricted and Being came to be forgotten. What he seeks to do is to restore the centrality of
Being and man's 'being-there' [a] which he associates with the need to recover the Western world's spiritual destiny from the
technological and nihilistic forces threatening it in his own day. Heidegger explicitly says he is not now attempting to establish a
traditional ontology in which the question of being means an enquiry into being as such, or the defining of the transcendental in terms of
Dasein. He is concerned not with "the existential ecstatic temporality of the human being-there" but rather with being as the subjective
consciousness of the human essent.
An examination of essents, be they tools, vehicles, mountains, Bach's fugues, Hlderlin's hymns, the Earth itself, and so on (for the
purposes of which he makes use of some highly questionable etymology of Greek terms and quotations) shows that while 'Being' is a
universal name, the name itself and what it names are unique. The 'is' discloses itself to us in many ways. The word in its many
inflections relates to being quite differently from the way that all other nouns and verbs relate to the essents expressed in them. But
despite the seeming impossibility of identifying a universal generic meaning common to the many modes of 'is' as species there is,
Heidegger says, a single determinate trait. This directs our contemplation of Being to a definite unifying and determining horizon of
understanding and thus contains the meaning within the realms of actuality and presence, permanence and duration, abiding and
occurrence. (Heidegger relates this to the Greek infinitive.) So if we are to preserve the historical importance of the question 'How does
it stand with being?' we must reflect on the source of our hidden history and will thereby "hold to the discourse of being". Accordingly
he embarks [ch. 4] on an investigation of the how Being has come to be limited in its relations with Becoming, Appearance, Thinking,
and 'the Ought'.
What we find in An Introduction to Metaphysics through to his last writings is a move from the subjectivity or centrality of Dasein as the
agent for the revelation of Being towards the view that man is used by Being for its 'safekeeping'; man is conceived as the "shepherd of
being" [b]. There is a central paradox here in that, to the extent man seeks to uncover Being for example, through speculation,
present-at-handedness, Being becomes concealed: "Being conceals itself through emerging-into-presence". This ties in with his earlier
critique of the theoretical stance and of 'real presences'. But more significant is his account of the role of language. In his early
work language was regarded as a tool or instrument by means of which Dasein can engage with and thereby understand the multifarious
modes of Being. He now thinks of language itself as "the house of being and it is by dwelling [there] that man ek-sists"; language speaks
to man [see Letter on Humanism]. We can perhaps say that language is in a sense ontologically prior to Dasein [c]. We also find
Heidegger appealing to a philosophical poetry. As he says:
The origin of language is in essence mysterious. And this means that language can only have arisen from the overpowering, the strange
and terrible, through man's departure into being. In this departure language was being, embodied in the word: poetry. Language is the
primordial poetry in which a people speaks being. [Introduction to Metaphysics, ch. 4, 4.]
In particular he looks to the writings of Hlderlin to restore this pristine relationship to Being.
In his Unterwegs zur Sprache he introduces the concept of 'the Fourfold' (das Geviert). By this somewhat mythical notion he seems to be
referring to the cosmos as an 'interplay' between earth, sky, man and the gods and which constitutes the 'saying' of Being to man, through
'poetic' language, as it were. Despite the seeming obscurity of Heidegger's remarks, it is arguable that there is a certain thread of
continuity in his developing philosophy a thread belonging to the concept of temporality. Shortly after Being and Time had been
published he introduced a distinction between the temporality of Dasein (Zeitlichkeit) and the temporality of Being (Temporalitt).
Unfortunately his account of the latter and its relation to Dasein is incomplete and not worked out systematically; and it is unclear how it
fits in with other distinctions already made in Being and Timebetween temporal and atemporal realms of Being. The temporal realm, he
claims, is subdivided into two modes, Nature and History; the atemporal realm into the Extra-temporal and the Supra-temporal. Now in
what sense is being extra- or supra-temporal? Is he referring here to some kind of Husserlian realm of Essence? And how can Dasein
belong to both categories of history (qua person) and Nature? Can Dasein confront Nature 'in itself', that is, prior to both its 'present-at-
handedness' and 'ready-to-handedness'? Is this what is implicit in the concept of the 'Fourfold' and to be achieved through the poetic? Is
there a suggestion here of a mystical strain in Heidegger's last years a pointing to atemporal Being beyond all understanding? [d]

HERMENEUTICS
[6] Heidegger's later work, with his emphasis on the ontological primacy of language, his 'translation' of Greek texts, his quest for a
'philosophical poetry' to 'reveal' Being (and thereby Dasein) is clearly of major significance in hermeneutics. But the foundations for his
own contribution are already to be found clearly set out in Being and Time [secs 31, 32]. Consistently with his rejection of 'theoreticism'
and his emphasis on the 'engaged agency' of Dasein, he thinks of interpretation as involving a grasp of the nature of a thing by reference
to its role, that is, as a tool or piece of equipment functioning in the context of an agent's choice of possibilities towards the fulfilment of
his project. However, he distinguishes between a wider sense and a narrower sense of the term. In its wider sense (Auslegung) it covers
our everyday skills and activities. In the narrower sense Interpretation (with a capital 'I') (Interpretierung) refers to theoretical,
philosophical, academic reflection on phenomena, including reflection as a specific interpretation. Indeed Being and Time itself is an
Interpretation in that it is a philosophical exploration of Dasein. But all interpretation, he says, is grounded on understanding [sec.
33] [a] the second aspect of Dasein's relation to Being [see sec. 2]. It follows that Interpretation must also assimilate all attempts of
Dasein to explicate the Being of Nature including the findings of the mathematical and natural sciences. But whereas traditionally
such sciences have presupposed the possibility of achieving an 'objective' explanation of the 'world' (as against the 'understanding' which
supposedly characterized the 'human' sciences), Heidegger's radical shift and redefinition of understanding and Interpretation shows the
impotence of the natural sciences in this respect. These sciences are 'paradigmatic' not because of their exactitude or alleged universality
but because the entities they deal with are discovered in them "by the prior projection of their state of Being" (the only way, he says, in
which entities can be discovered) [H. 362]. The implication of this position is that the sharp dichotomy between
theNaturwissenschaften and the Geisteswissenschaften is overcome: "All understanding... operates in the fore-structure" [H. 152]. Both
kinds of sciences are modes of Interpretation but have different functions in relation to human engagement with the world and the quest
for its meaning (he refers to this engagement as "primary understanding") [b]. "Mathematics [for example] is not more rigorous than
historiology, but only narrower, because the existential foundations relevant for it lie within a narrower range" [H. 153].
Heidegger's account of Interpretation and his rejection of any possibility of an objective 'mirroring' of nature raises a serious problem
concerning truth. All understanding, Heidegger says, is circular; and we cannot get outside this hermeneutic circle. So how do we
decide between different interpretations? In the last analysis the test seems to be a pragmatic one: whether Dasein's 'engagement' with
the phenomenal world with respect to either 'possibilities' or 'factuality' is successful. And ultimately success is to be judged in
terms of the 'authenticity' or 'genuineness' of Dasein's progressive revelation to itself of Being of which it is the primary
manifestation [c].

AESTHETICS
[7] ['The Origins of the Work of Art' (in PLT).] Heidegger rejects both subjectivist views of art and the more 'classical' view that the
value of a work of art lies in its relation to, say, beauty or pleasure. For him the value pertains to what the work does, namely, showing us
what a 'thing' is discloses its being [PLT, 20-39]. There are of course different kinds of things. There are natural objects such as a
rock, and useful things such as a shoe. What of things depicted in or fashioned by works of art? Such works do not of themselves have a
specific purpose: they need to be interpreted. He makes his position clear by examining Van Gogh's painting of a peasant's shoes [32ff.]
and the example of a Greek temple [41ff.]. And to bring out the meaning of 'thing' he adapts the Aristotelian notions of form and matter
[26ff.]. In our everyday world we think of shoes only in terms of utility. This is the 'form' imposed on the 'matter' ( the leather, and so on,
of which they are made. But the painting shows us, partly 'opens', 'clarifies' how the objects are involved both with the 'world' (that is,
human products and activities, the region of 'possibilities, values, tools) and with the 'earth' [cf Geviert] which is 'actuality', raw
materials, and that which 'resists' and partly conceals human possibilties. Similarly the temple utilizes (but does not use up) 'earthy' raw
materials and sets up a structure which articulates human activity: it is a cultural artefact which has functional significance.
All art, Heidegger says, is Dichtung [PLT, 72]. By this he means in general 'invention', 'composition', but in a narrower sense poetry. In
so far as it effects unconcealment through language Dichtung in the narrower sense of poetic composition (poeisis) is primary; it is in
this opened-up realm that the other arts (painting, architecture, sculpture) can function. Its essence is to 'found' truth [57-78]; that is, (i) it
'bestows it' as a gift; (ii) grounds it in the 'earth'; (iii) initiates and prepares the way for its revelation. Truth establishes itself through all
human cultural activity: it sets itself into work; it shines forth in "the nearness of that which is not simply being, but the being that is
most of all"; it grounds itself in "essential sacrifice", and in the thinker's questioning [ ibid. 61-2]. Art always attains its historical essence
as a founding, when beings as a whole require grounding in openness [75]. In Greek times, through art being was revealed as presence;
in the mediaeval era beings were transformed into divine creations; in the modern age of technology beings were made into
manipulatable entities. But in these modes art brings about opening, 'unconcealment' (truth as aletheia), and faciltitates human
endeavour. We might say even that art uses man [a], art being the 'origin' (Ursprung 'primordial leap') of the work of art and of its
creator and preserver, thereby 'grounding' the 'historical' movement of beings in general towards their realization of potential, their
destiny: "When beings as a whole require grounding in openness, art always attains to its historical essence as founding" [75].
Heidegger is often seen as critical of modern technology. [See 'The Question Concerning Technology'.] However, he has in mind here
inauthentic technology as when it threatens to control us, or conceals the 'earth-world struggle, ignores the 'Mystery of Being'. It is
allowable as a means for opening up truth but only if we open ourselves to its essence which is contingent on our use and attitude.
[Note that techne in Greek means 'work of art', 'skill', 'craft'.] Here he contrasts the Greek temple with a power station on the Rhine.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
What are we to make of Heidegger? A controversial figure both as a thinker and a human being, he has been regarded by many critics,
particularly those in the logical positivist and analytical traditions, as a charlatan, the writer of dense, almost unreadable, indeed
nonsensical tomes; by others he has been lauded as the greatest philosopher of the twentieth century. His undeniably equivocal attitude
towards National Socialism has of course not helped his philosophy to receive a fair hearing. Nevertheless, his influence, not only in
philosophy but also in the fields of literature, theology, psychology, has for good or ill been immense. His existential-
phenomenological analysis of man as an alienated being; his plea for a return to Being as revealed through Dasein or (in his later work)
through language; his critique of what he saw as dehumanizing technology all this has had a considerable impact on twentieth century
thought.
Three general objections can be made here.
(1) Some critics have suggested that Heidegger's project fails because he never really passed beyond the finitude of man himself: Being
remains 'hidden'. He would of course have rejected this, arguing that Being is partially revealed through Dasein (which is itself a
manifestation of Being), or (in the later stages of his thought) through language.
(2) Heidegger's language has of course been the object of criticism and often ridicule. Many opponents have said that his convoluted
neologisms are totally disproportionate to what, at the end of the day, his philosophy 'boils down' to, namely, that we humans are fragile
and insecure beings in the face of a seemingly hostile cosmos. Against this it might be said that such criticisms are superficial and ignore
the difficulty of the task Heidegger had set himself and the seeming intractability of the philosophical problems he was addressing. It
remains an open question whether his ideas could have been developed more clearly: one must also of course allow for the Germanic
tradition in which he had been philosophically educated. Furthermore, one might charitably suggest that many of the extraordinary
etymologies of German and Greek words he proposed in his later writings represent a deliberate attempt to shock the reader into a
realization of the absolute primacy of language and to encourage him or her to attempt to break through its limitations and distortions to
discover Being itself. (His 'hero' Hlderlin provides a precedent for this.)
(3) These two criticisms lead on to a third: that Heidegger's espousal of the 'hermeneutic circle' commits him to a 'relativist' and
antirealist position. Certainly, there are real difficulties for such notions as belief and truth which, together with all 'interpretations',
necessarily operate within the 'circle'. But arguably it is mistaken to think of him as an antirealist in any strong sense (such as would be
more appropriately applied to, say, Derrida and other 'post-structuralists'). Being for Heidegger can be 'grasped', albeit through
Dasein's practical engagement with the world; and while there is a plurality of possible 'frameworks' through which this engagement can
be articulated, it is the same 'reality' which is being meaningfully revealed. Heidegger might then be more accurately described as a
'weak realist'. However this remains a contentious issue.
.So, notwithstanding the seeming impenetrability of Heidegger's writings, they should be studied as far as possible with an open mind;
the problems he grappled with throughout his life are genuine philosophical aporiai, and how he sought to solve them should be taken
seriously even if we come to a considered conclusion that he was radically mistaken, his solutions untenable.

CARNAP
(1891 1970)

EMPIRICISM/ LOGICAL POSITIVISM

Rudolf Carnap was born at Ronsdorf (Nordrhein-Westfalen), Germany. After his schooling at the Barmen Gymnasium he studied
physics, mathematics, and philosophy at the Universities of Jena (where one of his teachers was Frege) and Freiburg. He gained his
doctorate in 1921 and started his academic career as a Privatdozent at Vienna in 1926, soon becoming a leading member of the 'Vienna
Circle'. In 1930 he founded the journal Erkenntnis. He was professor of natural philosophy at the German University in Prague until
1935, when he emigrated to America because of the rise of Nazism. He was appointed professor of philosophy at Chicago, and while
there edited (with Neurath and Morris) the International Encyclopedia of Universal Science. In 1952 he spent two years at the Princeton
Institute of Advanced Study before moving to the University of California, Los Angeles.

PHILOSOPHY OF LOGIC, MATHEMATICS, AND LANGUAGE

[1] [Logical Construction of the World.] Carnap's methodology and epistemology are grounded in his philosophy of language and logic;
and a key concept is that of meaning. He accepted the principle of verificationaccording to which statements are meaningful only if
they are in principle verifiable; and the meaning is given by the conditions of its verification. For Carnap these conditions involve direct
or indirect empirical reference through 'basic' experiences expressed in basic or 'protocol' sentences. If a statement is logically
equivalent to a protocol statement, that is, can be inferred from it, the two statements are said to have thesame meaning [a]. For example,
'The body S is now seeing red' (the 'physical object' sentence) is equivalent to the protocol sentence 'red, now'. Initially he adopted a
somewhat 'neutral' although sceptical attitude towards metaphysical statements. But he soon regarded them in a negative light and
accepted that all statements which are neither linguistic nor empirical are meaningless [Pseudo Problems in Philosophy]. The terms out
of which they are constructed either lack empirical meaning or are put together in violation of syntactical rules . [See also 'The
Elimination of Metaphysics'.]
These distinctions are developed further in later work [Logical Syntax of Language; see also 'The Elimination of Metaphysics']. Thus we
have (i) syntactical sentences, which describe a language; (ii) object sentences, which describe physical objects; (iii) pseudo-object
sentences, which look like sentences but which can be shown by analysis to be syntactical. (Statements about meaning are included in
the last type.) Sentences of this third kind, which are about words rather than things, are said to be in the 'material mode'; and their real
syntactical function can be shown by translating them into the 'formal mode'. For example, 'Five is not a thing but a number' can be
translated as ' "Five" is not a thing-word but a number word'. It is a matter of convenience and simplicity which mode one uses. But
Carnap stressed that insensitivity to use can lead to pseudo-problems, especially in relation to metaphysical and ethical statements,
which cannot be reformulated as syntactical sentences, which tell us nothing about the world; they just express or arouse
feelings [b]. After eliminating such pseudo-statements, philosophy thus becomes a "logic of science" a branch of logic (or form of
language), whose function is to describe the language of empirical science or to recommend changes in it [c].
[2] Central to Carnap's theory of language at this stage is his account of what he saw as the general structure or formal 'metalanguage' for
characterizing the syntax of any given natural language. He allows, again as a matter of 'convenience', that a plurality of 'artificial'
languages can be constructed. Every individual, he says, is free to establish his own form of language according to his requirements.
This constitutes his 'principle of tolerance'. However, he says that because philosophical statements are relative to context words may,
for example, may be both synonymous/ tautologous and non-synonymous/ non-tautologous, depending on the languages they belong to.
Carnap therefore lays it down that meta-statements describing a language must belong to that language [a]. In this connection he
distinguished 'foundation' rules, which lay down what symbols and sentences are to be allowed in the language; 'transformation' rules,
which are either 'physical' (P-) or 'logico-mathematical' (L-); and two kinds of concepts derivation terms and consequence terms. He
then attempted to group all sentences into classes by reference to these rules and concepts. This can be seen in his discussion of
the foundations of mathematics. Carnap broadly accepted logicism (the theory that mathematics can be reduced to logic) but sought
also to incorporate elements of intuitionism (the view that classical mathematics consists of constructions which are mental, not
'Platonic') and formalism (which seeks to formalize classical and 'Platonic' mathematics from a constructivist standpoint without
consideration of its intended 'meaning') [Logical Syntax]. Following the formalists, he made use of his distinction between language and
metalanguage to develop two alternative 'model' languages representing respectively constructivism and classical mathematics [b].
[3] Difficulties with the principle of verification led Carnap to modify his views on meaning. What, for example, is the status of the
principle itself? It is neither nonsensical nor a tautology. It cannot itself be construed as open to either verification or refutation. So he
now came to think of it as a 'recommendation' for the construction of the supposedly 'ideal' language of science from which all
'metaphysical' statements have been eliminated. And correspondingly he understood meaning no longer in terms of direct or indirect
verification but with reference to empirical consequences which admit of confirmation [a]. [See Probability, sec. 5.]
While in his earlier writings Carnap's aim had been to develop a theory of syntactic structures in linguistic expressions so as to exhibit
more clearly how philosophical problems arise from the 'material mode' of speech, by the early 1940s [ Introduction to
Semantics; Meaning and Necessity], influenced by Tarski's theory of truth, he was claiming that the task of philosophy
is semantic analysis, and that such concepts as 'analytic', 'synthetic', 'implication', and so on are better dealt with from a semantical rather
than a syntactical standpoint. In this connection he therefore set out to formalize not only the semantic concepts of the propositional
calculus ('true', 'false', and so on) but also modal concepts [b] ('necessary', 'possible'), attempting to construct a logic which would
accommodate them within the semantic framework.
Carnap then modified his account of meaning still further [Meaning and Necessity and 'Empiricism, Semantics and Ontology']. Rejecting
the view that linguistic expressions name entities (concrete or abstract), he supposed that they 'designated' both intensional entities (such
as individual concepts, properties, or propositions which he had earlier considered to be designated by sentences and identified with
'states of affairs') and extensional entities (such as individuals, classes, and truth-values corresponding to the intensions). He regarded
intensions as real not mental constructs, yet said they are not 'things'. Within this framework he also sought to accommodate the sense-
reference distinction [c]: different descriptions of an object are said to designate different 'individual concepts' having the same
extension. To deal with objections to his general account of meaning he distinguished between internal and external questions of
existence. The former relate to issues that arise within the context of a particular conceptual scheme with its own appropriate empirical
or logical criteria for determining what exists in everyday matters, physics, functional contexts, and so on. However, external
questions concern the nature or ontological status of the conceptual schemes themselves. It is in connection with external questions that
philosophical problems arise about the existence of entities designated by linguistic expressions. But, appealing again to his principle of
tolerance, he said we are free to use any language we find useful or convenient regardless of the entities whose existence it seems to
commit us to [d].

METHODOLOGY/ EPISTEMOLOGY
[4] Carnap set out [Logical Construction of the World] to construct a constitution system which would accommodate all knowable
objects. He called this 'methodological solipsism'. He started from the concept ofreducibility. By means of 'constitutional definitions' or
rules concepts can be reduced to sets of 'basic' concepts [a] provided the first concepts can be transformed into sentences containing
the sets. The constitution system consists of all the definitions and theorems arranged hierarchically.
Starting with 'private-psychical' (eigenpsychische) experiences Carnap selected as basic the relation of 'remembered symmetry' and
sought to construct successively the classes of quality, sense and sensation in the sensory field . Thus 'red' is definable in the class of
similars which have a location in a five dimensional system. His intention was that such a constitutional system should in due course
take in more complex objects physical objects, other minds, and cultural objects. However, he allowed that it might be possible to
construct a system on a wider 'physicalist' basis and which would make use of the language of' 'realism' (provided we do not accord
private experiences' epistemological primacy').
This approach presented Carnap with two difficulties: (1) how private experiences can be he foundation for the public inter-verfiable
sentences of science; (2) whether a 'phenomenalistic' language or a 'physicalist' language is to be preferred for the articulation of the
basic 'protocol' or report sentences of science. To deal with these he moved some way from his generally positivist position and accepted
that all of science (including the social or human sciences) could now be built on a physicalist basis utilizing preferably an
intersubjective physicalist language into which all empirical statements (the phenomenalist language), equivalent to protocol sentences,
could be expressed ['The Unity of Science'] [b].
Modifications to the concept of reducibility, particularly in relation to 'disposition' terms, then led Carnap to distinguish
between definitions of scientific concepts in terms of protocol statements (whichever 'language' they might be expressed in) and
reduction. Similarly he came to accept that scientific hypotheses could not be verified, only confirmed or tested. His final view therefore
was that scientific concepts should be reducible to rather than definable in terms of observables; and that scientific sentences should be
understood as admitting of confirmation by reference to observations instead of being translated into sentences about observables [c].
[5] Probability. In his account of probability Carnap attempted to reconcile different positions as he had done in his treatment of
mathematics. He distinguished between probability1 (confirmation probability) and probability2 (relative frequency probability) and says
that they should be clearly separated ['Two Concepts of Probability'; Logical Foundations of Probability] [a]. The first is a (non-
deductive) logical relation, while the second belongs to the province of statistics, involving relations between classes of events. Often
what appears to be relative frequency may in fact be a statement about a logical relation between evidence and conclusion. Now, the
methods for assessing the degree of 'confirmability' belong to the foundations of inductive logic. And Carnap interpreted inductive logic
as parallel to deductive logic in that the methods of testing for the degree of confirmation of a hypothesis on the basis of some evidence
are comparable to the rules for deriving a conclusion from premisses or theorems from axioms . He suggested there is a common feature
of rationality [b] in so far as both procedures involve a recognition of meanings of sentences and of, respectively, logical implication and
the definition of 'degree of confirmation'.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Carnap is perhaps both the most representative and the least dogmatic of the logical positivists. His philosophy is complex and wide-
ranging, his arguments and their implications being worked out in great detail. In so far as his thought was constantly undergoing
development and modification in the light of criticism a summary is best presented in general rather than specific terms. He offers an
'extensional' constructionist system grounded in experience. In the early stages of his thought he was concerned largely with syntax and
the primacy of phenomenal language but subsequently came to emphasize a physicalist language and semantics. He is important for the
distinctions he made between language and metalanguage, the 'formal' and the 'material' mode, and 'internal' and 'external' questions, for
his view that philosophical problems can be resolved by means of a logical analysis of language, and for his contributions to probability
theory. Some of the main criticisms which can be made of his philosophy are the following.
(1) At the level of 'protocol' sentences, which are about supposedly incorrigible observation reports, he would seem to be committed to
some form of correspondence theory of truth. Some critics, however, have questioned whether Tarski's semantic theory of truth is a
genuine correspondence theory in that his formal definition of truth seems to have no application to natural languages [compare
also Davidson]. It might therefore be argued that there is a tension here in Carnap's philosophy. It seems also that there is a tacit appeal
to coherence as a test of truth for sentences other than protocol sentences (a sentence being true by virtue of its relations to other
sentences). Furthermore, his principle of tolerance and acceptance of different conceptual schemes would appear to introduce both
pragmatic and relativist features. Against all this it could be said that it is a strength rather than a weakness that these different positions
are accommodated within his philosophy of language and his epistemology.
(2) The central feature of the positivist/ empiricist programme the reduction or assimilation of one mode of discourse to the scientific
has been criticized particularly by 'ordinary language' analytic philosophers, who claim that this programme cannot succeed.
(3) These philosophers have also questioned the tenability of Carnap's view that linguistic expressions 'designate' entities (extensional
and intensional) the existence of which seems to be a matter of which conceptual scheme is adopted. The supposition in his later writings
that entities have a 'Platonic' existence must also contend with 'nominalist' objections.

GADAMER
(1900 2002)

'PHILOSOPHICAL' HERMENEUTICS
Hans-Georg Gadamer was born in 1900, the son of a chemistry professor, and studied at the universities of Breslau, Marburg, Freiburg,
and Munich. He later undertook post-doctoral work as Heidegger's assistant at Marburg, and became professor there in 1937. During
World War II he was a reluctant 'fellow-traveller' with the Hitler regime and taught at Leipzig from 1938 until 1947 when he took up a
Chair at Frankfurt. He moved to Heidelberg in 1949 and retired in 1968 although he continued to teach in Germany and in America.
Influenced especially by Heidegger he moved beyond the 'methodological hermeneutics' of Schleiermacher and Dilthey and is now
recognised as the major hermeneutic philosopher of the twentieth century. His principal work Truth and Method raises important issues
concerning truth, rationality, authority, and language.

HERMENEUTICS
[1] Hermeneutics for Gadamer is more than simply a set of techniques for interpreting texts. It is concerned with the deeper issue of how
human understanding (Verstehen) is possible. And as such it is a practical as well as a theoretical enterprise, akin to Aristotle's concept
of phronesis or practical deliberation to be identified with neither episteme nor techne. While it is a teaching about a technical skill it
is also concerned with the relevance of this to "the distinctively human trait of having proairesis [free choice, purpose]" ['Hermeneutics
as Practical Philosophy'; cf. Truth and Method, Pt 2, II, 2 (b)] and with the individual's quest for excellence as manifested in 'cultivation'
(Bildung ) in the community [ibid., Pt 1, I, 1 (b) (i)] [a].
According to Gadamer, there is no absolute 'objective' interpretation of a text, work or art, or indeed a whole culture, to be discovered by
some Enlightenment form of reason, through empathetic insight into the author's intentions, or by some process of cultural
reconstruction. At the same time he rejects both individual rigid relativism and any transcendentally subjective verification whereby the
insights of each individual or group are supposedly guaranteed equal validity or authenticity [b]. This becomes clear in the course of his
exposition in Truth and Method. He firstly investigates art and the aesthetic dimension [Pt I] and then goes on to examine the historical
sciences [Pt II, I]; for it is through modes of experiencing, he says, that we come to understand our own existence. The Romantic and
Idealist traditions, however, have presented us with forms of consciousness which alienate our true being. Emphasis on aesthetic
experience as such results in a work of art becoming abstracted from the world as a 'pure' artwork by means of a process of what
Gadamer calls 'aesthetic differentiation'. His aim therefore is to show that the primordial experiences transmitted through history and art
cannot be grasped from the point of view of these forms of consciousness. Understanding the truth of aesthetic experience belongs to the
encounter with the work of art itself [Pt I, I, 3 (b)]. Works of art do indeed disclose the 'truth' of reality, but only, as it were, as
appearance a realization as it exists only in the content of the work of art itself (he thus rejects the notion of 'mirroring'): "...reality is
defined as what is untransformed, and art as the raising up of this reality into its truth" [Pt I, II, 1(b)]. He is critical of subjectivist
theories of art and affirms that aesthetic experience is a form of knowledge: "What one experiences in a work of art and what one is
directed towards is rather how true it is, i.e., to what extent one knows and recognises something and oneself" [ ibid.] In mimetic art
imitation and representation are thus not merely a copy but a recognition of the essence. Moreover, he says, because they are not merely
repetition but a "bringing forth", the spectator is also involved in them. This is particularly clear in Gadamer's discussion of tragic drama.
In witnessing the consequences which flow from a guilty deed (in the Antigone) "the spectator recognises himself and his own finiteness
in the face of the power of fate" [Pt I, II, 1(d)]. The events become a reality for him through which he is 'purified' in the sense of being
transformed by the tragedy [c]. However, he goes on to argue that in art and history there are no pure starting-points free of
presuppositions. Rather we find ourselves in a world in a particular place and time, born into a given society, influenced even by the
landscape; we possess our own thoughts and moods, engage in our own activities. He refers to this as 'effective historical
consciousness' (Wirkungsgeschichtliches Bewusstsein) [Pt 2, II, 1 (b) (iv)], reflecting the fact that, whether as authors of texts, readers,
or interpreters, we are grounded in historicity of the communal, genuinely intersubjective 'life-world', within which all our thinking
occurs; and he sees us as being thereby constrained by the prejudices of our cultural contexts [d]. 'Pre-judice' is here understood not in
its common pejorative sense but as referring to the assumptions or traditions that we necessarily inherit by virtue of belonging to a
particular culture in a particular place at a particular time. This limitation is implicit in his use of the term 'horizon'.
[2] Although we are limited in our horizons, Gadamer argues that the limits can be transcended to the extent that we can open
ourselves up to the discourse and cultural traditions of others; and in this way greater understanding can be achieved. What makes this
possible for Gadamer is language which plays a central role in his hermeneutics [Pt III]. He sees language as the medium in which we
operate, through which we understand. But we cannot transcend or extricate ourselves from language to come into to direct contact with
the 'reality' that language is in some sense about. The nature of human experience is essentially linguistic; Gadamer refers to this as
'linguality' (Sprachlichkeit). It is literally more correct, he states, to say that "language speaks us, rather than we speak it" [Pt III, 3
(b)] [a]. He does not seek to get behind a text but thinks it is possible to 'recreate' partially the 'ideal' meaning which he thinks is
embedded in or implicit in the text itself which may well pass beyond what was intended by the author and thus beyond the author's
horizons. Interpretation has to be 'applied' in circumstances that may not have obtained when work or text was first created. He takes up
the idea of a dialogue but for him it is a dialogue between interpreter and text, painting, or other cultural product. Through this dialogue
the interpreter both separates the text from its horizons (the author's personal experiences, cultural context of the work) and transcends
his own horizons. Gadamer argues that as the dialogue progresses a 'fusion of horizons' (Horizontverschmelzung) between author, text,
and interpreter can be achieved and approximation to the ideal meaning attained [Pt 2, II, 1 (b) (iv)] [b].Moreover, while our effective
history necessarily prevents us from overcoming our prejudices, yet because an effective history constitutes those prejudices we bring to
understanding it is only through them that we can approach our horizons. Prejudice is thus seen as a precondition for understanding: we
must first be 'distanciated' from the text or culture if we are to interpret it [c]. The progressive dialogue leading to fusion of horizons is
essentially dialectical in nature. But Gadamer's dialectic, which facilitates openness and transcendence, remains within language. He
rejects any dialectic of Spirit which purports to be working itself out in and through consciousness and the world and culminating in an
Absolute or total self-realization [d]. The 'meaning' or truth of the text should not therefore be understood in either rationalist or
speculative idealist terms.
Hermeneutics is characterized by a 'forward-backward' movement which operates within the 'hermeneutical circle' [Pt 2, II, 1 (a) (i) and
(b) (iii)]. For Gadamer this is a circle of whole and part: parts give us a sense of the whole, and to understand the significance of the
parts we need to have an apprehension of the whole (just as we might come to understand the relationship between the chapters of a
book and the book as a whole). But the whole is never fully realizable in terms of parts there is no 'ultimate' truth [e]: we are offered
only new fusions, new insights, achieved only within the constraints of history and effective historical consciousness, and the 'resistance'
of text. It is essentially on on-going adventure; and Gadamer claims that to the extent that it is successful it will bring about a growth in
inner awareness, self-understanding, and an understanding of the human condition.
[3] Hermeneutics is applicable not only to the human sciences but also to the natural sciences [see Foreword to 2 nd edn]. But Gadamer
makes it clear that he is not seeking to question the methodology or functions of empirical sciences within their own terms of reference,
or even that they may be employed in the social sciences. The natural sciences may well aspire to certainty, but they have their limits in
that here too our culturally related assumptions, prejudices, and distortions cannot be eliminated. On the other hand, although the human
sciences differ from the natural sciences in their methodology this does not exclude them from offering access to truth . Gadamer's point
is that both natural and human sciences are subordinate to hermeneutic categories: both kinds of enterprise must be open to interpretation
and understanding which is fundamental to what it is to be human [a]. His concern therefore is to pose the question 'How is
understanding possible?' to the totality of human experience of the world and our conduct of life.
 CRITICAL SUMMARY
The significance of Gadamer lies in his expansion of the concept of hermeneutics. His achievement is essentially to have linked together
the traditional areas 'understanding', 'interpretation' and 'application' and to have shown their interdependence in a wider theory of
understanding. His work has had a major influence on contemporary philosophy and literary theory. His principal work Truth and
Method has also raised important issues concerning truth, rationality, and authority, and language.
Unlike the hermeneutic philosophers of German Romanticism, Gadamer denies that an 'objective' understanding of texts, art, history,
culture can be achieved. However, his anti-positivistic methodology allows for a conditioned understanding that he claims avoids
relativism and subjectivism. This understanding is achieved through a 'fusion of horizons' arising from 'dialogue' and the search for
consensus. Personal and cultural 'pre-judices' and presuppositions cannot be transcended: indeed they are considered as essential aids for
the acquisition of knowledge, the cultivation of reason, and human development. His approach to the question of the 'meaning' or 'truth'
of a text is perhaps best understood as Aristotelian rather than Platonic though this is contentious.
The main criticisms of his philosophy have arisen largely in the context of his debate with Habermas .
(1) It is argued that Gadamer ignores or underestimates the possibility of coercion of the free discourse required for consensus he is
too ready to submit to the 'authority' of tradition' [a]; and he is mistaken in supposing 'pre-judice' to be non-eliminable. His hermeneutics
is supposedly limited in this respect, because it appeals to a linguistic idealism. It lacks a "reference system", a comprehensive view of
society. Gadamer, however, denies this and argue that extra-linguistic factors do in due course enter into the system.
(2) It is also claimed that he does not allow sufficiently for 'causal' factors and the distortions (perhaps originating from the unconscious)
in proposed reasons and intentions.
(3) More centrally, perhaps, his criterion for genuine understanding after 'dialogue' is essentially practical. It is not clear how self-
development and the cultivation of reason are to be measured, or, given ideological distortion, how consensus is to be assessed. There is
thus no clear indication of a role for reason as such.
These criticisms should of course be understood in the context of Habermas's own position. Nevertheless it is clear that the issue of truth
is central to the debate concerning the acceptability of Gadamerian hermeneutics. Gadamer has been interpreted by some commentators
as being an 'antirealist'. But while it is the case that for him we cannot transcend the language through which we articulate our
interpretations of texts or cultural behaviour in general, it is arguable that he is not denying that what we say in language is in some sense
about the 'world'. Rather, he is repudiating the possibility of any ultimate 'objective' revelation. The 'fusion of horizons' may be on-going,
perhaps even asymptotic (though this raises the question of how progress might be measured), but such fusions are more appropriately
still to be regarded as relative. Perhaps therefore Gadamer should be considered a 'weak' realist'.

RYLE
(1900 1976)

'ORDINARY LANGUAGE' ANALYTIC PHILOSOPHY

Gilbert Ryle was born in Brighton, the son of a doctor, and was educated at Brighton College and Queen's College, Oxford, where he
read both Greats and P.P.E. In 1924 he was appointed lecturer in philosophy at Christ Church, Oxford. In 1945 he was elected Waynflete
Professor of Metaphysical Philosophy and a Fellow of Magdalen. He succeeded Moore as editor of Mind in 1947.

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE AND LOGIC

[1] Throughout his writings Ryle was concerned with what he sees as our tendency to be seduced into making errors by the grammatical
form of many of the expressions of 'ordinary' or everyday language which we use when we begin to philosophize . In his early writings
he argued that it is the philosopher's job to detect such mistakes and to reformulate the offending expressions so that we are no longer
misled [a]. He is thinking of, for example, "quasi ontological statements" such as 'Mr Pickwick is a fiction', which may encourage us to
suppose the world contains fictions in the way that it contains statesmen (as recorded by, say, 'Mr Baldwin is a statesman') [see
"Systematically Misleading Expressions"]. The proposition is really about Dickens or the Pickwick Papers. Similar considerations apply
to quasi-Platonic statements (or statements about universals) such as 'Virtue is its own reward'. We might think the meaning of this is
analogous to that of 'Smith has given himself the prize' and conclude that the world contains two kinds of objects, namely, particulars
(like Smith) and universals (like Virtue). We should therefore reformulate the expression as something like 'Whoever is good, gains
something by being good'. It is not literally true that Virtue is a recipient of rewards. Ryle goes on to apply his analysis to quasi-
descriptions and quasi-referential 'the'-phrases.
He develops his thesis in later writings. Thus [in 'Categories'] he introduces a notion similar to what he was later to call a 'category
mistake'. Incomplete expressions such as '...is in bed' can be completed if we insert a word into the gap. But while some words (for
example, 'Socrates') are appropriate, others (for example, 'Saturday') are not. 'Socrates' and 'Saturday' belong to different categories. It is
the using of words of the wrong category that gives rise to contradictions. To distinguish categories we must engage in philosophical
argumentation or ratiocination and in particular make use of reductiones ad absurdum as a means of discovering the limits of
applicability of our expressions. The job of philosophy is thus "to determine and rectify the logical geography of our
concepts" [The Concept of Mind, Introduction] in effect to show that our theories often give an incorrect account of the way we our
concepts are ordinarily used and to remedy this situation. He suggests [Dilemmas, I] that many problems in philosophy take the form of
dilemmas; and again the role of philosophy is to show that apparent conflicts between pairs of conclusions each seemingly correct
and validly drawn have arisen as a result of conceptual confusion [b]. Thus, for example, in our everyday lives we suppose reality to
consist of objects such as tables and chairs, which are coloured, have a particular shape, and so on. The physicist, on the other hand, tells
us they are but collections of particles in space and do not really possess colour, solidity, and so on. But there is no genuine conflict, says
Ryle, because the scientist and the layman are engaged in different activities. The scientist's aims are narrower; he is interested only in
particular aspects of the world. Its descriptions are thus incomplete. We might say the ordinary person, however, is less interested in the
physical nature and structure of a table than in whether it is suitable for the dinner party he is holding next week.
Different travellers use vehicles of highly intricate constructions and of very different makes for all the varying purposes of their very
dissimilar journeys, and yet are alike in using the same public roads and the same signposts as one another. Somewhat so, thinkers may
use all sorts of specially designed concepts for their several purposes, but still have also to use the same highway
concepts [Dilemmas I].
There is no incomptibility between the truths of physical theory and the truths of daily life [ibid. V]. And similarly with the apparent
conflicts between, for example, common sense and fatalism, formal and informal logic, or common sense and Zeno's paradox of Achilles
and the Tortoise [c] which turns out to be a conflict between factual questions about the length and duration of a race (decided by
measurement) and arithmetical questions (decided by calculation). "Two separate skills do not, in the beginning, intertwine into one
conjoint skill" [ibid. III].
[2] Meaning. Ryle rejected denotation theories of meaning, according to which the meaning of a word or expression is "the thing,
process, person or entity of which the expression is the proper name", in much the same way as 'Fido' stands to the dog Fido (Ryle called
this the "'Fido' Fido" theory) [see Review of Carnap and 'Theory of Meaning']. For him knowing what an expression means is to
know how to use it. But it does not follow that the meaning of a sentence consists in its use . [See 'Use, Usage and Meaning'.] This is
because he thinks of sentences as the units of speech, whereas words are the 'atoms' of a language. To master a language we have to learn
words and constructions; and strictly speaking it is words which are bearers of meaning. Sentences are what we have to produce in
saying something: indeed they are our saying it. Some philosophers, he says, have confused this distinction and have assimilated their
accounts of what sentences mean to their account of what words mean, and therefore have continued to cause philosophical
difficulties[a].

KNOWLEDGE/ PHILOSOPHY OF MIND

[3] Ryle's theory of knowledge is best understood in the context of his wider considerations of 'mental concepts' in general [see The
Concept of Mind]. To produce a 'map' of these concepts to determine their geographical boundaries, as it were he must first destroy
a 'myth', what he calls the dogma of the "ghost in the machine". According to this (approximately Cartesian) myth, words like 'knowing',
'believing', 'imagining', 'sensing', and so on refer to a private, non-spatial 'mind' which we can know only by 'looking within' ourselves.
Philosophers have been led to such a view, Ryle argues, because of a category mistake [a].The error is similar to that made by a visitor
to Oxford who, having looked at the various colleges and knowing nothing about their organization, asks where the University is. The
University, however, is not an entity which can be looked at in the way its constituent colleges can. Likewise when we look at human
bodies we must not suppose there is some internal non-corporeal controlling entity, the 'mind'. There is no need to postulate a 'ghost' to
account for the workings of the body, any more than we need to think of the body as just a machine. Rather we must think of ourselves
as human beings who behave in a variety of ways.
What then, given such a position, does Ryle have to say about mental concepts? His arguments turn on a distinction between categorical
statements (about episodes or occurrences) and hypothetical statements (about dispositions). To say, for example, that glass is brittle is to
say that if you drop glass or hit it with a stone, and so on, it will break. In the same way, statements about knowing that something is the
case believing, willing, feeling, and the like are not about some supposedly inner thought 'processes' or strivings but are dispositional:
they attribute a pattern of behaviour that is law-like. To say that someone is intelligent is then to say that in given circumstances he
would behave observably in ways we call intelligent. There is no reference here to some inner cognition knowing some piece of
information, or 'knowing that' something is the case, which we are supposed to run through our 'mind' before we act. For Ryle 'knowing
that' is thus assimilated to 'knowing how' [b], that is, the possession of some skill or capacity. Likewise to say an action is voluntary is
not to appeal to any prior inner conscious act of 'volition'. It is simply to say only that the agent could have acted differently. (It follows
that for Ryle there is no problem with the notion of freedom of the will)[c]. Similar considerations apply to motives, emotions,
perceptions, and 'imagings', none of which entails commitment to any occult 'mental processes'. Thus in his account of perception Ryle
attacks both the sense-datum theory and aspects of phenomenalist theories [d]. The sense-datum theory, he claims, rests on the 'logical
howler' of assimilating the concept of sensation to the concept of observation. When we use our eyes and ears we see and hear things
around us. We do not see or hear sensations or sense-data. We may talk of 'having' them, but this is already implicit in our perceiving
things. 'Seeing' and 'hearing', and the like are what Ryle calls achievement words: when we observe we have already succeeded in a task.
We do not need any 'private theatre' to provide stages for any extra 'objects' such as 'private' sensations or sense-data though he allows
we may use 'round', 'green', 'loud', and so on to describe the way already perceived objects appear to us; or we may utilise them in
situations where normal perception has broken down. As for supposedly inner 'imagings', while it is true that we can talk of 'having'
images and sounds 'in our heads', we are not seeing or hearing copies or pictures of things. What we are really doing is imagining, in the
sense of pretending what it would be like actually to see, say, a mountain, or hear a tune being played perhaps as a kind of rehearsal, a
prelude to the performance of intelligent action.
Underpinning Ryle's rejection of all such supposed mental processes is the argument that any appeal to them must involve an infinite
regress. Take images. If we appeal to them to identify some object, the images themselves must be identified. How can this be done other
than by comparison with another image? If we say that an action is preceded by an act of volition, are we not also responsible for that
act? So do we not need a further prior act?
[4] Given that Ryle rejects 'Cartesian' accounts of the mind, what of the problem of our knowledge of the self? He says that both
consciousness and introspection, as understood by psychologists, do exist. But these are not avenues to occult mental entities [a]. The
word 'I', Ryle argues, indicates directly the person who can be called by 'my' name. It is not in itself a name; and indeed it can be used in
different ways [b], as in, for example, 'I thought hard', 'I weigh ten stone', 'I crossed the road'. To learn about ourselves we do not require
introspection; the sorts of things I can find out about myself are the same as the sorts of things I can find out about other people by
observing their behaviour, though there may be some difference of degree [c]. And to understand or explain the kind of critical
monitoring of circumstances that characterizes our preparation or state of readiness for action (or refraining from it) we do not require
the postulate of 'Privileged Access' proposed by dualists.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Ryle is notable for two interconnected contributions to philosophy:
(l) The thesis that philosophical errors may arise as a result of the misleading grammar of informal or 'ordinary' language, especially
when we use words belonging to one category as if they belonged to another. He sees it as the philosopher's function to detect and rectify
such philosophical mistakes.
(2) In the philosophy of mind, his rejection of Cartesian-type theories in favour of the view that so-called 'inner' mental life should be
understood in terms of sets of dispositional statements about publicly observable behaviour.
Against these theses many criticisms have been made.
(1) It might be said that category mistakes are mistakes only on the assumption that at least some concepts belong to certain well-defined
categories. This raises the question whether these categories pertain to or reflect the actual structure of the world (realism), or whether
they are in some sense relativistic and pragmatic and therefore contingent on our needs and purposes. If the latter is the case, then the
notion of rectifying the logical geography of our concepts to avoid putative category mistakes becomes much more flexible than Ryle
would wish. As for the former, many philosophers of dualist persuasion would argue that, at least so far as mind-body problems are
concerned, there is no such category mistake. Others might question the paradigmatic primacy given to 'ordinary' language.
(2) On the specific issue of mind, it is a matter of debate whether Ryle's position should be described as 'behaviourist'. Nevertheless it
seems that it is his primary aim to present an account of our talk about 'mental' life in at least quasi-behaviourist terms. It is, however,
questionable whether our thinking, perceiving, imagining, and so on can be eliminated or by-passed in this way. At the same time Ryle's
achievement his powerful arguments against the Cartesian substance dualistic model should not be underestimated.

POPPER
(1902 1994)

CRITICAL EMPIRICISM
Karl Popper was born in Vienna, where his father was a lawyer, writer, and social reformer. He left home and school at the age of sixteen
and enrolled in the University. After a few years as a trainee cabinet-maker and then as a social worker he studied to become a
schoolteacher. While in Vienna he was in close touch with some of the members of the 'Vienna Circle' of logical positivists, though he
was not a positivist himself. After the publication in 1934 of his Logik der Forschung (Logic of Scientific Discovery) he was invited to
England, where he met many of the leading philosophers and lectured at the London School of Economics. He was appointed to a senior
lectureship in philosophy at Canterbury University College, New Zealand in 1937, and in 1945 he accepted a readership at the L.S.E.,
becoming professor of logic and scientific method in 1949. He was knighted in 1965, and was also elected a Fellow of the British
Academy and made a Companion of Honour.

METHODOLOGY
[1] [The Logic of Scientific Discovery (1959 English edn); Conjectures and Refutations, 3rd edn.] According to the 'traditional' view of
scientific method the scientist devises experiments to provide him with measured observations. He then formulates explanatory
hypotheses and attempts to confirm them by finding appropriate supporting evidence. It seems then that, while the scientific laws which
this inductive procedure give rise to may be highly probable, they are not certain. Most working scientists are presumably happy enough
with this view. However, Popper argues that this account of methodology is erroneous and he proposes an alternative. We can never
conclusively establish the truth of a general statement such as 'All swans are white'; there will always be observations that have not yet
been made. But we need only one disconfirming instance, namely, 'This swan is black', which will be sufficient to falsify a scientific
law. Scientific methodology thus involves falsification procedures and not confirming ones; and is essentially deductive. (He therefore
in effect dismisses the so-called problem of induction) [LSD, ch. I, 6; ch. IV] [a]. He argues that what the scientist should do is to set up
general statements as 'conjectures' that can be refuted by counter-instances or modified to take account of special circumstances [CR, ch.
1]. Take, for example, the statement that water boils at 100C at sea level. From this a richer hypothesis enables us to explain the
connection between the boiling point of water and atmospheric pressure, and this in turn can be subjected to further attempts at refutation
and modification.
The postulation of hypotheses in general is for Popper an exercise of the critical imagination. To the extent that they have withstood
testing procedures they are said to be 'corroborated' and merge into theories, though they can never be established conclusively. But
Popper says that in the course of time and through successive modifications theories may be said to correspond with increasing
approximation to the truth. He in fact uses the term 'verisimilitude', which he defines by reference to the 'content', that is, the set of
logical consequences of a theory [CR, ch. 10, sec. 3; also Addenda 3]. And building on Tarski's semantic theory of truth [see CR, ch. 10,
sec. 2; also Objective Knowledge, ch. 9] (which Popper believes can be extended to natural languages) he argues in favour of a theory of
objective truth and correspondence to facts [b]. A theory t2, he says, has greater verisimilitude than theory t 1, if the truth-content of t 2 but
not the falsity-content is greater than that of t 1, or if the falsity-content of t1, but not its truth-content is greater than that of t 2. Popper
stresses that corroboration and verisimilitude are not to be understood in terms of the probability that a hypothesis or theory is true.
Indeed there is a problem in that probability statements seem not to admit of refutation. He therefore modified the relative frequency
theory by introducing the notion of a 'condensation limit' as a limit of frequencies within a finite class so that the deviations of future
frequencies from this 'limit' might be measurable. Later, however, he moved away from the statistical account to adopt an 'objective
propensity' theory [c] which supposes probability statements to be about the properties of experimental conditions. [See CR, ch. 1,
Appendix.]
The emphasis on falsifiability as opposed to verifiability is important not only because it lies at the heart of Popper's account of scientific
methodology but also because it provides him with what he calls the criterion of demarcation, which enables him to distinguish
genuine from pseudo-science. [CR, ch. 11]. Consider the statement 'It will rain sometime in the next million years'. This cannot be
falsified, and is to all intents and purposes certain; it has maximum probability. However, its 'information content' is virtually nil. This is
to be contrasted with, say, 'Rain will fall on the London at 2 pm tomorrow'. This statement has a high information content but is most
improbable and is easily falsified. It is also, Popper says, the simplest. It is thus an appropriately scientific statement. Highly probable
statements with low information content, which are accordingly not falsifiable, are on the other hand not genuinely scientific, since
nothing could ever count against them. Only hypotheses or theories which are open to rigorous testing procedures are genuinely
scientific. Metaphysical 'theories', Marxist 'laws', fundamental 'principles' of Freudian psychoanalysis, and the like, although
'meaningful' are not scientific [d]. Popper rejects the verification principle of meaning [CR, ch. 1, III] [e].

KNOWLEDGE
[2] It follows from Popper's account of scientific procedure that he does not accept the rationalist view that ultimate or complete
knowledge of the 'essences' of things can be achieved [CR, ch. 3, sec. 3]. This is not to deny the possibility of knowledge altogether;
and Popper rejects 'instrumentalist' theories of science [CR, ch. 3, secs 4 & 5], which consider such entities as atoms, genes, and so on as
merely convenient logical constructions. 'Micro' objects, the supposedly theoretical entities of science, can be regarded as real as
physical objects given that they are open to the same methodological testing procedures. It is not just a matter of convenience [a].
But he also rejects empiricist 'foundationalist' theories [CR, passim; especially Addenda 1], which seek to ground knowledge in
incontrovertible statements about supposedly basic entitites such as sense-data or 'impressions'. This is because no observations can be
'pure' or 'bare'; we always bring with us a framework of theory which guides us to the observations and has a role to play in determining
which 'facts' we should consider. Even in our earliest childhood we have 'expectations', albeit not consciously articulated (for example,
that we are to be fed). Such expectations, while psychologically or genetically prior to observational experience and are thus in a sense
the result of 'propensities', are not a priori valid and may be mistaken. Popper thus does not espouse a rationalist innatist theory in any
strict sense [b].
As we develop and become concerned increasingly with problem-solving, particularly the problem of survival, our expectations are
subjected to critical testing so that errors which militate against survival may be eliminated and new apparently successful modes of
behaviour developed. This forms the basis of Popper's 'evolutionary' epistemology [see Objective Knowledge] [c]. In the same way we
come to articulate our consciousness of the world through language, forming our concepts in the light of our expectations; we come into
contact with abstractions, myths, customs, religions, and later on genuine science, all of which are open to the critical procedure. These
structures come to constitute what Popper calls 'World 3' the totality of our inherited culture. They are produced by 'World 2' (the
world of minds) and are preserved in 'World 1' (human brains, books, films, monuments, and so on) [see especially OK, chs 3 & 4]. It is
World 3 that constitutes objective knowledge in the strict sense [d]. Individual, private, subjective dispositions or claims to know that
something is the case are always contentious until they have been subjected to testing, when they then pass, corroborated, into the public
and 'real' domain of World 3.

SOCIAL AND POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY

[3] [Objective Knowledge.] Popper's theory of objective knowledge incorporates his views on social, historical and political issues which
he developed earlier in his career. Scientific knowledge is clearly the product of an 'openness' to the possibility that theories may have to
be revised. This runs parallel to his view of the human being as a free agent; the mind cannot be accounted for in causal deterministic
terms [a]. Likewise he rejects historicism [see The Poverty of Historicism] whether the consequence of applying traditional and
incorrect scientific methodology to historical events, or of a supposedly special methodology appropriate uniquely to history and also
what he supposed to be an associated social 'holism' which cannot be reduced to the behaviour of individuals. For Popper the critical
falsificationist method, which characterizes genuine science, is applicable not only to nature but also to human society, though in its
individual or particular aspects [b]. He is thus thoroughly critical of revolutions and wholesale reconstructions of society. The ideal
pluralist democracy, to which he is committed, must therefore be a society which is open to critical examination with a view to
improvement through minimizing suffering, unhappiness, and error [c]. [See The Open Society and its Enemies.] It must also be tolerant
of different views, though such tolerance cannot extend to those who would seek to undermine free institutions even if the tyranny
has the support of the majority. Similarly, rather than being concerned with the traditional questions of political philosophy (who should
rule the wisest?, the best?, and so on), he places emphasis on the devising of institutions that will minimize the risk of bad rulers.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Popper's philosophy is wide-ranging and is characterized by energy and vision, combined with analytical power. Popper rejected both the
'foundationalism' proposed by some logical positivist philosophers and the innate ideas of the rationalists. He rejected also the
assumptions of 'ordinary language' language philosophy considering it to be vague and trivial. Understandably he was sympathetic to
Russell and accepted that the kind of analysis Russell advocated has a role to play in problem solving. Not surprisingly, therefore,
Popper's influence has been felt more in political and social philosophy (and, through Gombrich, in aesthetics) than in other areas of
philosophy with the exception perhaps of the philosophy of science. The key features of his thought may be summarized as follows.
(1) He rejected the verification principle and theory of meaning. He also stressed falsification of theories in scientific methodology
instead of verification.
(2) He used falsifiability as a criterion of demarcation for distinguishing genuine science from what he regarded as spurious sciences
such as Marxism and Freudian psychoanalytical theory.
(3) He argued vigorously for openness of thought and for the 'open society' rejecting authoritarianism and theories of historical
inevitability.
(4) His distinction between three 'worlds', World 3 being 'objective' knowledge, is an important feature in his later 'evolutionary
epistemology'.
Many objections have been made against his claims.
(1) It has been said that in his general account of scientific explanation (a) he does not allow sufficiently for the possibility of anomalies
in experimental data; (b) he tends to concentrate on theories in isolation, whereas, it has been claimed (by philosophers appealing to a
'holistic' view of scientific methodology and knowledge acquisition), such theories cannot adequately provide testable predictions; (c) his
use of modus tollens arguments (p entails q; not-q; therefore not-p) could result in too ready a rejection of theories; (d) he underestimates
the role that inductive procedures can play in scientific methodology. It has also been suggested (e) that science does not develop in the
measured progressive 'evolutionary' manner implied by his account: he should have given more consideration to the way that paradigms
are overturned.
(2) On the specific issue of falsification, it has been argued that theories can always be protected from this by rejecting auxiliary
hypotheses or by changing one's assessment of probabilities. Indeed such moves may well be characteristic of scientific procedures,
contrary to Popper's claims. Moreover, demarcation may not be as clear cut as Popper seems to suggest. Probability is never zero; the
possibility that a given claim can be falsified can never be ruled out.
(3) In his explanation of 'verisimilitude' Popper talks of the degree of 'truth content' over 'falsity content'. But is there a test or criterion
for truth content at all in a falsificationist theory? In so far as he accepts a theory only so long as it has not been refuted, Popper (who,
contentiously, interprets Tarski's semantic theory of truth as one of correspondence) may yet be appealing to purely pragmatic
considerations. It is also unclear whether he is advocating an ideal towards which practising scientists should aspire or is providing an
actual description of the scientists' modus operandi.
(4) Understandably his social and political philosophy has been criticized by thinkers who have espoused historicist or inevitability
theories. This of course remains a matter of ongoing debate. However, even some philosophers who are broadly sympathetic to his
position have questioned his interpretation of Plato and Hegel as enemies of the open society [see 3d]. Whether this is a fair criticism is a
matter to be determined as much by Plato and Hegel scholars as by followers of Popper.
(5) The view that scientific method is applicable to both the natural and the human sciences [compare Hempel] is, to say the least,
questionable [see also Gadamer].

HEMPEL
(1905 1997)

LOGICAL EMPIRICISM
Born in Oranienburg, Germany Carl Hempel studied mathematics and physics at the Universities of Gttingen, Heidelberg, and Berlin,
where he gained his doctorate. He became a member of the logical positivist group there in 1934. After a short time researching in
Brussels he emigrated to the U.S.A. in 1937. He taught at Yale from 1948-55 when he was appointed to the professorship at Princeton.
he was also Fulbright Senior Research fellow at Oxford (1959/60) and a Fellow of the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioural
Sciences at Stanford (1963/4). After retirement he continued to teach at the Universities of California (Berkeley and Irvine) and
Jerusalem.

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE
[1] While Hempel accepted the logical positivists' approach to the concept of meaning, he came to modify it in a number of
respects. Initially he suggested that statements are meaningful only if they can be translated into an empiricist language. But later he
allowed for degrees of meaningfulness between the extremes of significance and nonsense [a]. He also argued that meaning should
properly be located in language systems as a whole rather than in separate statements. He was thus committed to a coherence theory of
truth [b]. He recognised that there is a problem with theoretical terms utilized in the sciences in that they do not refer to entities which
can be observed, and he suggested that an 'interpretive system' consisting of both theoretical and observational terms might allow for a
partial interpretation which would produce consequences that could be tested empirically [c].

METHODOLOGY
[2] Hempel developed the 'covering-law' model of scientific explanation (that is, as applied to the natural sciences) and sought to extend
it to explanations in the social or human sciences [a]. According to the model an event (for example, the apparent bending of a stick
when placed in water) is explained when statements describing it are deduced from statements of antecedent conditions in conjunction
with general laws (which may in some cases be statistical and only probable), and which in turn are deducible from more widely ranging
laws. Thus we have the following pattern: (a) a set of statements, C 1, C2,... Ck, which describe particular facts; (b) L 1, L2,... Lr, which are
general laws; (c) the conclusion E, which describes the explanandum-event (a) and (b) jointly forming the explanans. This deductive
subsumption of the explanandum under principles which have the character of general laws Hempel calls a 'deductive-nomological'
explanation. He also identifies a second type, which is probabilistic and therefore inductive (for example, an explanation of the
occurrence and subsidence of a person's allergic attack) but he tries to show such explanations conform to the primary model and are still
nomological (that is, appertaining to laws), although not deductive
How is evidence of conditions obtained? What are 'general' laws grounded in? Why do we rely on them? This is in effect the problem of
induction: general laws are confirmed by their instances. Some philosophers of science have accepted a number of confirmation criteria:
(1) 'All As are B' is confirmed by any (A and B); (2) 'All As are B' is disconfirmed by an (A and not-B); (3) 'All As are B' is neither
confirmed nor disconfirmed by any non-A; (4) Whatever confirms one group in a set of logically equivalent hypotheses confirms the
others. However, it was claimed that holding these criteria in conjunction leads to paradox. To deal with this Hempel suggested that
condition (3) be rejected; and accordingly he allowed that anything other than an (A and non-B) would confirm 'All As are B'. Thus, for
example, since 'All ravens are black' is logically equivalent to 'All non-black things are non-ravens', it would seem to follow that
anything at all (a white swan, a black mouse) would confirm 'All ravens are black'. This is Hempel's paradox. What is at issue is how
instances would be regarded as relevant; and any formulation of the inductive principle should take account of this requirement [b].
As for the social and human sciences, Hempel discusses ["Explanation in Science and History"] two kinds of explanation supposedly
used by historians 'genetic' explanations and appeals to 'motivating reasons'. If we seek to explain why a particular historical
phenomenon occurred, or why someone performs a particular action, we seek to show that the phenomenon or action can be derived as a
conclusion from sets of relevant facts and well-established generalizations [c]. In cases of specific actions of an individual we have some
such pattern as this: (a) A was in a situation of type C; (b) B was disposed to act rationally; (c) any person who is disposed to act
rationally will, when in a situation of type C, invariably (with high probability) do X which, Hempel claims, conforms to the
probabilistic version of the covering-law model. Again he thinks of these patterns of explanation as nomological though they may be
combined with some straight description.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
While Hempel's approach to the concept of meaning arguably marks an advance on standard verificationist theories in that he would
appear to mediate between physicalist and operationalist, or instrumentalist theories, his appeal to observational data as the criterion of
significance (even in the context of 'partially interpreted' deductive systems) leaves him open to criticism. One reason in particular for
this is that many terms used in our discourse cannot easily be linked to such data. Indeed they would often seem to be used meaningfully
when it is not known whether properties designated by 'empirical' terms are, or even could be observed.
Hempel's main contribution to philosophy, however, probably lies in his work on methodology. But here too his attempt to apply
covering-law models to historical and genetic explanations and his paradox of confirmation have engendered a great deal of debate. In
relation to the former it can be argued, for example, that motivating reasons cannot be assimilated to causes in the way he requires; and
that the model cannot cope with exceptions without either emptying of all meaning the concept of general explanation, or treating human
behaviour as inevitable and completely predictable. As for the paradox of confirmation, some philosophers have responded by arguing
that statistically observations of black ravens, for example, (given that all ravens are black) have greater confirmation value than those of
non-ravens, say, white swans; and that background knowledge can increase probability. Another approach is to reject all attempts at
confirmation. 'All ravens are black' is to be accepted only to the extent that there has so far been no observation instance of a non-black
raven; and appeals to classes of non-ravens are irrelevant. Hempel's paradox, however, continues to cause puzzlement.

SARTRE
(1905 1980)

EXISTENTIAL PHENOMENOLOGY
His father having died at an early age, Jean-Paul Sartre was brought up by his grandparents. (Albert Schweitzer was a cousin.) He was
educated at the Lyce Henri IV in Paris, the Lyce in La Rochelle, and at the cole Normale Suprieure, gaining his agrgation in
Philosophy in 1929. He taught philosophy in various schools before becoming a research student (1933-5) in Berlin and at the University
of Freiburg. His novel La Nause was published in 1938. After a short time as a prisoner of war he resumed his teaching career. He was
active in the resistance movement while working on L'tre et le Nant.

PSYCHOLOGY/ ONTOLOGY/ KNOWLEDGE

[1] [Being and Nothingness, Introd. III; also The Psychology of the Imagination.] When we perceive objects trees, clouds, and so
on, we are engaging in intentional acts positing these objects as existing in the world. They are not to be regarded as reducible to
appearances or sensibilia. Neither are they mental as the 'idealists' maintain, or as 'immanent' (the result of a 'bracketing' procedure).
Rather, they are transphenomenal, transcendent. The imagining consciousness is also understood by Sartre as positing objects [a], but he
argues that the agent is free to intend its objects in a variety of ways. (a) Certainly actual images may be taken to be the posited objects.
But this is the consequence of reflection at a second level, as it were. (b) For the first order imagining consciousness, however, an object
is posited which is not the image itself. Sartre thinks of this object as absent but imagined as if it were present. The actual image is then
considered as a relation between consciousness and the object. (c) As a further possibility Sartre suggests the imaginary consciousness
can posit an object which does not really exist at all a fictional one, for example; and he refers paradoxically to such non-existent
objects as 'negations' of reality but yet as 'existing' . In other words, they are posited as 'unreal' or 'inactive'.
Sartre also developed an original analysis of emotions in terms of intentionality. [See Sketch for a Theory of the Emotions.] He thinks of
emotion as a way of apprehending the world whereby significance is projected onto a person or thing [b]. This consciousness of others
as possessing certain qualities (which they may not actually possess) constitutes what he calls a "magical world". He sees both this and
the exercising of imagination as the agent's manifestation of freedom and as attempts to evade causal determinism.
Implicit in Sartre's account of imagination and emotion is a central distinction between what he called the reflective and the non-
reflective consciousness [Being and Nothingness]. This is of particular importance in his analysis of self-consciousness [II, ch. 1; see
also On the Transcendence of the Ego]. The positing of actual transphenomenal or transcendental objects is the activity of the pre-
reflective consciousness. However, he rejects the notion of a transcendent Ego as the residuum of intentionality and 'bracketing' [c]. It
is nothing more than a "centre of opacity" within consciousness. The pre-reflective consciousness is indeed accompanied by a 'self'-
consciousness but this is an awareness by consciousness itself as consciousness: no 'Ego' or 'self' is 'seen' or intuited as being involved.
(Sartre talks of such self-consciousness as 'non-thetic', non-positing.) But when we treat this phenomenological perceptual consciousness
itself as an intentionally posited object at the level of reflective consciousness we must regard this as the manifestation of an Ego,
in so far as it arises through the self-reflection of consciousness and thereby objectifies itself. It cannot therefore be regarded as
having created that consciousness. It is, however, posited as the unity and source of our experiences and actions, and as such is
correlative to the world considered as the posited ideal unity of all the objects of consciousness. And in this correlation the 'gap' between
a reflective consciousness and the external world is overcome. His position is thus as follows. The basic pre-reflective consciousness is a
transphenomenal, transcendental activity or agency which confers meaning in positing (1) transphenomenal objects, and (2) through its
reflection on its own intentional acts posits and 'objectifies' the Ego. But this posited 'Ego' belonging to reflective consciousness is seen
to be correlative to the world (as the posited ideal unity of our experiences and actions the Ego being responsible for the unifying
process) [c]. What Sartre seems to mean can be illustrated by an example. When I perceive (or imagine), say, a tree my active 'mind' (as
'pre-reflective' consciousness) 'intends' this as an object. If now this consciousness reflects on its own activity (the act of perceiving) it
turns that activity itself into an 'object' (this is the 'Ego' considered as belonging to the 'reflective' consciousness). He then says that the
perceived tree (the unified 'object' in my consciousness) and the 'subjective' reflected Ego (that which does the unifying) are inseparable.
[2] The importance of Sartre's subtle analysis of self-consciousness lies in its relevance to the problem of existence. This is best
approached through his concept of Being. By 'Being' Sartre means that which is: "Being is in itself, Being is what it is", he writes [ BN,
Introd. VI]. The concept of Being as the In-itself (l'tre en-soi) is arrived at through a process of elimination of attributes or
differentiations. When we perceive an object, say, a table we are conscious of it as something to be used for a particular purpose. (We
can write on it, chop it up for firewood, and so on.) It has instrumental meaning a meaning conferred on it by consciousness itself. If
we abstract all these instrumental features, what is left is Being-in-itself [a] contingent, opaque, solid (massif), uncaused. It is in a
sense superfluity (de trop). It is characterized just by 'being there'.
What then of the status of consciousness which Sartre now calls Being-for-itself (l'tre pour soi)? [See BN, Pt II.] Consider again our
experience of the table. In differentiating the table as a table consciousness introduces a negation ( ngatit) in so far as the table is
identified and differentiated as not being something else (chair, cupboard, etc.). Similarly to say something is near is to say it is not
distant; to say it is present is to imply it is not past. Indeed consciousness itself is conceived as separable, distant from being, and as such
is not-Being with nothing between Being and itself. Consciousness is characterized by this activity of nihilation introducing into
Being-in-itself nothingness, a 'hole', non-Being. [On 'negation' and 'nihilation' see BN, Pt I, ch. 1.] The relationship between Being and
non-Being is thus not a mere logical one; Being is in a sense already 'in' non-Being, and through the negating capacity of consciousness
Being introduces a 'hole' within Being-in-itself and thereby, as it were, instantiates or particularizes not-Being [b] (the table is picked out
from the 'other'). Now there would seem to be a paradox here. The being of consciousness (Being-for-itself), whereby nothingness comes
into the world, must be its own non-being or nothingness. Arguably this can be resolved by saying that for Sartre consciousness is Being-
for-itself as intentional activity, yet it is not-Being in so far as it is not Being-in-itself.
As for the object, it is now neither an in-itself (because it is differentiated, defined) nor a for-itself (which characterizes consciousness).
How can this be? To deal with this Sartre extends his dialectic by a further negation [Pt II, 3, V]. The For-itself negates itself. As a result
the object ceases to belong (immanently) to the For-itself but is 'affirmed' by it; and the For-itself becomes the affirmation of the In-
itself. "It is the 'adventure' of the In-itself to be affirmed." Correspondingly the For-itself, as it were, tends to 'lose' itself in becoming the
affirmation of the In-itself. From the point of view of knowledge, the first negation may be taken to be an idealist position: the
differentiated object exists in or for the conscious subject; "Knowledge is nothing other than the presence of Being to the For-itself".
However, through the "radical reversal" brought about by the second negation "knowledge is reabsorbed in Being" there is only
being, Sartre says. Knowledge is thus to be understood as a mode of Being in terms of the relationship between the For-itself and the
In-itself. At the same time there is an 'existential' aspect, in that it is "an absolute and primitive event" "the absolute upsurge" of the
For-itself [c], which is not only the "absolute event" of the For-itself but is also something which happens to the In-itself. As he says,
"the For-itself by its self-negation becomes the affirmation of the In-itself" [ibid.].
[3] There are two features of Being-for-itself which relate to his central claim that "existence is prior to essence". Firstly, the mode of
being peculiar to being-for-itself is the activity of temporality: past, present and future are internal structures of conscious being . This
enables consciousness to transcend itself and to introduce negation into the world. What we are now is the consequence of our making
ourselves, and in so doing Being-for-itself separates itself from and negates what it has made of itself in the past which becomes
Being-in-itself, that is, essence. As Being-for-itself it remains transcendent, 'ahead of itself' as past, and herein lies its existence. As
existence consciousness is thus undetermined by the past; it is continuously making itself. (This is characterized most starkly in death
when our existence ceases.) Secondly, consciousness is also characterized by its freedom: "we are necessarily free". Thus for Sartre
[Existentialism is a Humanism]: "Man first of all exists, encounters himself, surges up in the world, and defines himself afterwards."
"Man is nothing else but that which he makes of himself." It is clear that this is the logical consequence of his view that man does not
have a 'human nature'. People who think there is a God usually think of him/it as a 'supernal artisan' who holds in his mind a universal
conception of Man, each individual man being a particular realization of this universal. But for Sartre there is no God and therefore no
human nature [a]. Even those atheist thinkers who adhere to the notion of human nature common to all men assume that an essence
precedes that "historic existence which we confront in experience".
God as conventionally understood (in, say, the Christian tradition) is the ultimate being, eternal, transcendent, uncaused, omniscient,
omnipotent, and self-conscious "all positivity and the foundation of the world", as Sartre puts it [BN, Pt II, ch. 1, III]. But according
to him there is an inherent self-contradiction in this concept of God. Human reality, coming into existence, grasps itself as an incomplete
being. By virtue of this lack it reaches towards being which defines man's lack or imperfection "the being which is the foundation of
its own nothingness (that is, the pour-soi) surpasses itself toward the being which is the foundation of its being (the en-soi)" [ibid.].
However, this being-in-itself cannot be a transcendent God. If it were the pure in-itself it would coincide with the annihilation of
consciousness. Put simply, if God were self-conscious, there would be 'distancing' between consciousness and being-in-itself. Such a
being would not be presence-to-itself but identity-with-itself; and such a self, Sartre says, can exist only as a "perpetually evanescent
relation". In short, Sartre's view is that God considered as the totality which reveals the lack of human totality combines in itself
incompatible characteristics of the in-itself and the for-itself [b].
[4] Now what of the 'Other'? On this issue Sartre is not a sceptic. He claims that the intentionality of being-for-itself can establish the
existence of other minds. But it is not through an appeal to any argument by analogy that this is to be achieved. Rather, he invokes the
notion of intersubjectivity [a]. In Existentialism is a Humanism he argues that when we say 'I think' we are just as certain of the other as
we are of ourselves: in discovering ourselves in the cogito we also discover all the others, and as a condition of our own existence".
In Being and Nothingness [Pt III, ch. 1, IV] he relates this to our experiences of our own feelings. Suppose I am looking through a
keyhole. I am totally unaware of myself. This is the state of pre-reflective consciousness. If I now become aware that I am being
observed by somebody, I experience shame (or guilt, embarrassment depending on circumstances), and I thereby become aware of
myself as an object of someone else's consciousness as subject. In reflective consciousness my 'cogito' manifests itself. The look
(regard) of the Other (autrui) makes one his object. The presence of the Other is thus a precondition for my recognising myself as an
object for that Other. Now Sartre recognises there is a conflict here between the individual's intuition of himself as totally free (in the
sense of being able to choose to 'make himself', to fill the 'gap' between the en-soi and the pour-soi) and his recognition of himself as an
'object' for the 'Other'. His initial solution is to seek to restore his freedom by in turn 'possessing' the Other. To illustrate this he
examines the relationship between two lovers considered psychologically [BN, Pt III, 3]. He has to concede, however, that though his
freedom be reaffirmed the fundamental conflict between the self and the other can never be terminated [b]. In seeking to appropriate the
freedom of his beloved the lover will treat her either as an automaton or as a being whose love for him is the consequence of free
commitment. Both alternatives, Sartre says, are unsatisfactory. Clearly the lover does not wish to be loved by a person whom he has
enslaved. Neither does he wish to be loved by someone who does not desire him for himself but because of her "pure loyalty to a sworn
oath". If he adopts the first alternative, it will lead to sadism. If he adopts the second and allow himself to become an 'object' for the
beloved, this will result in masochism. But in both cases his freedom is affirmed; and if he does become 'being-for-the-other', this will
give rise to the further problem of frustration in so far as by virtue of his free choice he cannot in fact be just an object. He could of
course remain indifferent to the beloved, observing her behaviour without involvement. But from the point of view of the relationship
this would be equally unsatisfactory.
It might seem from this account that for Sartre freedom is equivalent to indeterminacy and is therefore arbitrary ; so he would appear to
be advocating a policy of commitment without motive. However, this is not Sartre's view. He argues [BN, Pt IV, 1] that conscious being
is able to conceive of an as yet non-existent future. As we have seen, through the intentionality of being-for-itself, the world, that is,
being-in-itself, is 'negated' or 'set-off' from it. The individual's awareness of the need to eliminate this 'nothingness' or non-being, that is,
to fill the 'gap', itself constitutes the motive for action [c]. Sartre makes it clear that it is not a 'factual state' (the political and economic
structure of society, one's psychological condition, etc.) that can be a motive (motif) but the recognition that the state of affairs must be
changed. "The motive [mobile] is understood only by the end; that is, by the non-existent" [ibid.].

ETHICS
[5] [Existentialism and Humanism.] In so far as, for Sartre, man is nothing else but what he makes of himself his philosophy can be
called 'subjectivist'. Sartre understands this to mean the individual subject is totally free and that this is definitive man cannot be
unfree. It follows from this that the entire responsibility for our existence is placed directly upon our own shoulders, and further that
when we make a choice between one course of action and another we thereby affirm the value of that which is chosen . This latter claim
is central to Sartre's ethics. He rejects as inauthentic actions which are undertaken in accordance with systems of externally imposed
values. To act is to endow our actions with value. To act in accordance with the dictates of a God, the doctrines of Christianity, or the
principles of philosophical systems is to be guilty of 'bad faith (mauvaise foi) or 'self-deception' [a]. [On 'bad faith' see also BN, Pt I, ch.
2.] In other words, to refuse to face up to what Sartre calls 'abandonment' (that is deciding one's being for oneself), to shy away from
one's total responsibility for one's actions, to hide behind externally defined values, or to invent some deterministic doctrine, is to deny
that freedom which is the very definition and condition of man: "Man is free, man is freedom". Sartre illustrates his doctrine [EH] by
telling the story of one of his pupils who (in 1940) cannot make up his mind whether he should go to England to fight for the Free
French or should stay at home to look after his mother While conventionally there are standards or criteria he might appeal to, in the last
analysis it is in his actual choice that he, as it were, gives his action value. Only thus can his choice be authentic. Furthermore, when we
make a decision and choose a course of action, says Sartre, we commit not only ourselves but humanity as a whole. In legislating for the
whole of mankind the individual man cannot escape from a sense of complete responsibility, and he consequently experiences 'anguish'.
Sartre attempts to provide support for his view when he says that the Cartesian cogito provides us with an absolute truth one's
immediate sense of oneself. However, he goes on to affirm that in the 'I think' is contained also knowledge of other people. The
discovery of oneself is also a revelation of the 'other' as a freedom which confronts mine and which cannot think or will without doing so
either for or against me. We find ourselves in a world of 'intersubjectivity'. Now what is characteristic of man is that he is 'self-
surpassing'. Although we find ourselves in different historical situations, we are all constrained by certain material, social, and political
limitations. These are 'objective', that is, they are met with and recognised everywhere, but in so far as they are lived they are 'subjective':
man freely determines himself and his existence in relation to them; and in this respect we can identify a common or universal purpose
self-realization. Free being, as existence choosing its essence, is identical with absolute being, which is at once temporarily localized
in history and universally intelligible. It is on this basis that Sartre feels justified in universalizing his commitment and commitment
obliges him to will the liberty of others at the same time [b]. Freedom, he says, is willed in community. However, he denies he is
adopting a Kantian position, not least because principles which are too abstract break down and we have to 'invent' our own rule or
authority because in concrete cases there are no criteria we can appeal to determine how best to act.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY/ PHILOSOPHY OF MAN

[6] Although Sartre has expressly rejected Kantianism as being too abstract, the 'rule' which he invents for himself, which is grounded in
the concept of freedom, nevertheless owes something to Kant's philosophy. And it is here that the inconsistency with the theory
developed in Being and Nothingness becomes evident; for he makes it clear [Pt III, ch, 3] that by attributing freedom to the 'Other' that
Other becomes a threat or obstacle to us. Moreover, we can never approach the Other on the basis of equality, where the "recognition of
the Other's freedom would involve the recognition of our freedom". It seems in fact that any kind of altruistic or social ethics, whether of
the Aristotelian, Kantian, or utilitarian variety, which might just conceivably be consistent with the premisses of Existentialism and
Humanism, is ruled out by the pessimistic analysis of human relationships [a]. Sartre supplies in his major work. Nevertheless, he does
contemplate a way out: but the possibility of an ethics of "deliverance and salvation" can be achieved, he thinks, only after a "radical
conversion" [BN, III, 3, footnote 14]. This proved in due course to be a conversion to Marxism. This brings us to his political philosophy.
(The projected work on ethics was never written.)
[Critique of Dialectical Reason: Search for a Method.] A philosophy for Sartre is not a self-indulgent cerebral activity which has
relevance only to an individual's own life and personal circumstances. It is, he says [ch. I], simultaneously a way in which the 'rising
class' becomes conscious of itself, a totalization of knowledge, a method, a regulative Idea, an offensive weapon, and a community of
language. It can 'ferment rotten societies'. and it can become the culture and sometimes the nature of a whole class". Each period, he
thinks, has its own 'dominant philosophy'. Just as the philosophies of Descartes, Locke, Kant, and Hegel have in turn performed this role
so it is now Marxism that Sartre sees as being the dominant philosophy of the present day. However, he is at the same time severely
critical of contemporary Marxists. They treat as concrete truths what should be taken as heuristic (guiding) principles or regulative ideas;
their method does not derive concepts from experience but is certain of their truth and treats them as constitutive schemata. The sole
purpose of the method is "to force the events, the persons, or the acts considered into prefabricated moulds". Moreover, the 'intellectual'
or 'lazy' Marxist interprets history teleologically, in terms of a mechanistic movement towards a moment of final completion, a 'totality';
and thereby subsumes the concrete particular especially man, whom Sartre sees as free and creative under the universal. The
Marxist is here guilty of 'bad faith'; for while he is employing a mechanistic concept to make it appear that ends have disappeared he is at
the same tune attempting to preserve a teleological interpretation. This leads, Sartre says, to "that tedious vacillation in Marxist
explanations". What he wants to do is to get back to what he sees as the Hegelian roots of the original Marx. And he seeks a Marxist
philosophy which is not a predetermined totality but a continuous totalizing process.
To put concrete man back into history it is necessary to make the historical object pass through a process of 'mediation'. Sartre thinks
that contemporary Marxism lacks the means which would allow it grasp or facilitate this process, and he turns to existentialism to bring
this about without being unfaithful to pure Marxist principles. To place man in his 'proper framework', the method to be employed is
what Sartre calls 'progressive-regressive'. By 'regressive' he means that it is concerned with the uncovering of the fundamental
structures that link men to each other and to Nature [ch. III]. This is achieved by the making of what he calls 'cross-references'. And it is
'progressive' in that it is a continuous process of 'totalization'. A biography, for example (Sartre examines in detail the writer Flaubert) is
progressively determined through an empathetic examination of the period and of the person's life. The method, he says, holds the life
and the period apart until the reciprocal involvement comes to pass of itself and puts a temporary end to the research]. Regression is a
move back to an original condition: progression is the movement towards the objective result. What is achieved is an 'understanding' of
the individual and period. Moreover, the method, Sartre insists is heuristic and not a priori like the 'synthetic progression' of the 'lazy
Marxists' [b]. He is concerned to show how the individual actually makes his free choices in the context of his social grouping but at the
same time 'transcends' himself within the dialectical historical process. This purposive activity Sartre refers to by the technical
term praxis [c]. It consists of three aspects: (a) the plan or intention (the project); (b) the factual or objective situation man seeks to alter;
(c) the 'passing beyond' (dpassement) that situation. The objective situation is called the 'practico-inert'. But it is not just a material
structure which limits man; it may be a class, or indeed anything produced by him which as an en-soi is found to be in opposition to the
freedom of man himself, the pour-soi and which thus becomes the source of alienation as expressed in what Sartre calls need or scarcity
(besoin) [d]. The full significance of praxis is revealed in the Conclusion. Sartre thinks Marxism is the only possible anthropology which
can be at once historical and structural, and the only one which at the same time takes man in his totality, that is, in terms of the
'materiality of his condition'. But anthropological disciplines (namely, history, sociology, ethnology, and Marxism the 'sciences' of
man) only study the development and relation of human facts; they do not question themselves about man as such. Intellectual
Knowledge is in opposition to Being. So Sartre argues that if anthropology is to be an organized whole, it must overcome this
contradiction (which originates in reality itself not in a 'Knowledge') and on its own constitute itself as a 'structural, historical'
anthropology. What is needed, therefore is a process of 'interiorization' or 'internalization' by means of which existence can be
reintegrated into knowledge. It is here that praxis has a role to play, for the 'determinations of the person' (that is, those economic and
cultural factors which oppose or condition him) are sustained, internalized and lived by the personal project; and it is in his
comprehending of the project that man makes his own reality, 'existentializes' the ideology. The aim is 'comprehension', by which he
mans both 'immediate existence' (since it is produced as 'the movement of action') and as the foundation of an 'indirect knowing' of
existence (since it comprehends the existence of the other). And by 'indirect knowing' Sartre means the result of reflection on existence.
It is indirect in the sense that it is presupposed by the concepts of anthropology without being itself made the object of concepts. He
makes it clear that the process is entirely rational and reproduces the dialectical movement from the 'given' to 'activity' [e]. (Hence his
substitution of 'Dialectical Reason' for 'Dialectical Materialism'.) Significantly, he claims that this demand for an existential foundation
for Marxist theory is already contained implicitly in Marx's own Marxism. If Marxism does not reintegrate man into itself as its
foundation, it will degenerate into a 'non-human' anthropology. What Sartre seems to be saying is that existentialism and Marxism
require each other; existentialism will enliven Marxism and as it does so it will be absorbed by Marxism and no longer exist as an
independent philosophy [f].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Many professional philosophers, even in France, have often tended to think of Sartre as pass, outmoded. Perhaps it is largely due to his
often uncritical presentation of his ideas, his seeming lack of rigour in argument, and his over-reliance on prolix and metaphorical
language that has contributed to the negative neglect of his thought by most mainstream British and American philosophers. But his
appropriation of Husserl's methodology, and the use he made of seminal ideas of Hegel, Heidegger, and Marx are of significance, even if
(as some might argue) he was an eclectic synthesizer rather than an original thinker. Of the central features of Sartre's philosophy the
following should be mentioned:
(1) His emphasis on the primacy of existence over essence.
(2) His development of phenomenological techniques to reinterpret the Cartesian ego.
(3) The distinction between en soi and pour soi, and his recognition that being should be the object of intentionality.
(4) Intersubjectivity and other minds are understood in terms of feeling rather than analogically.
(5) His concept of 'bad faith' and (in his mature work) his rejection of external criteria for value. Each individual is held to be totally
responsible for making his own values as he 'makes' himself.
(6) The attempt to reconcile existentialism with Marxist ideology, and his view of man as an agent grounded in history.
All of these aspects of his thought have of course provoked a great deal of criticism. The following are some of the more important
objections.
(1) It has been claimed that 'existence before essence' is an empty notion, and that Sartre has failed to account adequately for genetic,
environmental, and unconscious restraints on humus action. However, it may be said that he recognised and attempted to come to terms
with these in his later political writings.
(2) He has a tendency to suppose that freedom is unlimited. But he does not satisfactorily resolve the conflict between the free agency of
the prereflective self and the objective 'for itself' governed by causality. In this context he has likewise not really overcome Cartesian
dualism. His account of the origins of consciousness also seems obscure.
(3) Sartre's account of value is in effect a radical 'situation ethics' [a] and is either incoherent or leads to the abnegation of all values, in
so far as all situations for action are unique. Moreover the subjectivity of his ethics is not readily reconcilable with his appeal to
universalizability.
(4) Despite the originality of his political writings, with their postulation of the conscious project or praxis and purposive activity, it is
arguable that the existential aspect has not been fully integrated with his acceptance of the material factors which motivate human
behaviour or with the dialectic of inevitability even allowing for his Hegelian modification of Marxism. It is also questionable
whether he has satisfactorily dealt with the methodological problem of how within a supposedly unified system of thought a scientific
mode of enquiry can simultaneously offer a dialectical comprehension of the human condition.

QUINE

(1908 2000)

PRAGMATISM
Willard Van Orman Quine was born in Akron, Ohio. He studied mathematics and philosophy at Oberlin College and gained his doctorate
at Harvard with a thesis on 'The Logic of Sequences', one of his supervisors being Whitehead. He spent some time studying
mathematical logic in Vienna, Prague (where he met Carnap), and Warsaw before returning to teach at Harvard in 1934. He was
appointed full professor and Senior Fellow there in 1948. He was Visiting Professor at Oxford in 1953-4 and Wolfson Lecturer in 1973-
4.

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE AND LOGIC

[1] On matters of existence and reality Quine argues that only those entities should be admitted for which strong and appropriate criteria
can be given [see Ontology sec. 2]. In the case of theoretical terms of language and logic he tends therefore to try to explain
intensional ideas (sense, meaning, propositions, identity, synonymy, analyticity, and the like) in terms of extensional ones (for example,
reference and truth) [a].Indeed his tendency is to dismiss such intensional notions altogether in so far as he considers any importation of
them into our theories as leading to circularity and obscurity. It is in the light of this attitude that we can understand (1) his treatment of
the analytic-synthetic distinction, and (2) what he calls 'regimentation' of our language.
The analytic-synthetic distinction. Quine calls this "the first dogma of empiricism" [see 'Two dogmas of empiricism']. Traditionally (at
least since Frege) a distinction has been made between logically necessary and logically contingent statements. The former are
('broadly') analytic, the latter synthetic. But this class of 'broadly' analytic statements can be subdivided into (a) logical truths and (b)
'narrowly' analytic statements these latter being always true by virtue of substitution on the basis of definitions, which in turn depend
on synonymy. Quine rejects this notion of narrow analyticity [b]. Consider these examples: (a) No unmarried man is married; (b) No
bachelor is married. The first is a logical truth and remains so whatever we may substitute for 'married' the logical particles ('no', 'is')
being unchanged. The second is not a logical truth but can be made into one by the substitution of a synonymous term (say, 'unmarried
man') for bachelor'. But then how are we to understand the intensional concept of synonymy? We cannot appeal to definitions, for (with
the exception of stipulative and nominal definitions) definition presupposes synonymy. Nor can we appeal to the idea of inter-
substitution without a change of truth-value in all contexts, because to say the truth of 'It is necessary that all bachelors are bachelors' is
unchanged by the substitution of 'unmarried man' is to reason in a circle; 'necessary' here means 'analytic'. Indeed, underlying Quine's
arguments here is a wider consideration: his dislike of what he calls the 'referential opacity' of modal contexts and quantification into
opaque contexts (examples of modal terms are 'necessary' and 'possible'). This can be illustrated by his argument in 'Reference and
Modality'. The substitution of the number of planets, (in the true statement 'The number of planets = 9') for '9' in the true statement '9 is
necessarily greater than 7' results in a false statement 'The number of planets is necessarily greater than 7'. Likewise the formal
rendering of '9 is necessarily greater than 7' as '(x)(x is necessarily greater than 7)' makes no sense unless we suppose objects to possess
properties essentially (de re necessity as against de dicto necessity) a position the nominalist Quine finds unacceptable. Indeed, he
regarded modal logic in general as being pseudo-logic [c].
He does nevertheless allow a minimal sense to synonymy and analyticity as defined in terms of observable sensory stimuli (behaviour
and dispositions). [See Word and Object.] Inter-subjective stimulus-synonymy is sameness of stimulus meaning for a given speaker;
while a sentence is stimulus-analytic if he would assent to it after every stimulation [d]. A socially stimulus-analytic sentence is then one
which is stimulus-analytic for nearly every speaker of the language, if not all. That there are these minimal allowable senses of the terms
is assumed in Quine's discussion of radical translation. By this he means the translation of the language of a previously unknown and
isolated tribe. This would have to start, he says, by considering sentences (rather than individual words) which relate directly to stimulus
conditions. To explain this he distinguishes between occasion sentences ('It hurts', 'His face is dirty') and standing sentences (for
example, 'Each year crocuses come out'). To assert the former we require stimuli each time we observe the relevant subject. But in the
case of the latter, once we have given our assent (having looked at the crocuses) we do not need to observe again. Now suppose we go to
this community whose language we do not understand and observe the circumstances in which a native says Gavagai in the presence of a
rabbit. To know whether he means rabbit, rabbithood, a particular segment of the rabbit, and so on, we need to frame 'analytical
hypotheses'. But because there can be more than one set of such hypotheses that fit the native's speech dispositions (that is, to respond to
the relevant stimuli) have no way of determining which is the right one. This is consistent with his general thesis that reference is
indeterminate in the sense that the facts of our linguistic behaviour can be mapped in a variety of ways. (And this is one reason why
senses cannot be admitted; for they fix references without regard to circumstances contrary to the flexibility of our linguistic
behaviour) [e]. Thus Quine posits his indeterminacy of translation thesis, from which he draws the conclusions (1) that any statement
can be regarded as true independently of empirical observation provided appropriate adjustments are made elsewhere in the
conceptual scheme to which the statement belongs; and (2) that therefore the traditional distinction between analytic and synthetic
statements cannot be sustained [f]. Conversely, for Quine, it is also the case that identity statements, for example, 'Hesperus is
Phosphorus' or 'Cicero is Tully', while true are not necessary truths, on the grounds that the discoveries of these identities are empirical
and that therefore the statements are contingent [g].
Regimentation of language ['On what there is']. If identity conditions stated in intensional terms are unclear or inadequate, as Quine
claims, then how are we to deal with abstract entities? His solution is to eliminate them from our discourse. He not only replaces all
proper names by definite descriptions, but also goes on to eliminate all other singular terms (pronouns, demonstratives, and the like),
replacing them by logical devices such as quantifiers, variables, and identity [h]. Thus 'Socrates' in 'Socrates was Greek' becomes 'The x
which socratizes'; and 'Socrates was Greek' turns into 'There is just one x which socratizes, and whatever socratizes was Greek'. In
logical symbolism: G(x)Fx) = df. (x)(Fx &(y)(Fy y = x) &Gx) (where 'F' stands for 'socratizes') and 'G' stands for 'Greek'.
This regimentation and reconstruction of natural language from within (essentially to 'improve' it), through the application of the
techniques of formal logic [i], has important implications for Quine's ontology and his theory of knowledge.

METAPHYSICS/ONTOLOGY

[2] According to Quine, "to be is to be the value of a variable" ['On what there is']. By this he meant that as a consequence of
regimentation and the eliminability of abstract entities the question of what actually exists in the world becomes the question what
satisfies the quantified variables. It is these, he says, which carry 'ontic commitment'. Furthermore we can choose how far to go with
elimination according to the things that need to be done in philosophy. In his early work his philosophy tended to be characterized by a
preference for concrete, physical objects over 'abstract' entities as 'unactualized possibilities'. We can do without abstract objects if their
jobs can be performed without obscurity by, say, sense-data, physical objects, and classes. (Likewise to explain human action we can, if
we wish, eliminate references to 'purposes' or 'intentions'; while the resolution of conditional statements into statements about
dispositions also enables us to do without modal operators. Dispositional statements are then to be understood in terms of statements
about the physical objects to which the dispositions are attributable.) Nevertheless he finds room for mathematical 'entities'; and [from
'Two dogmas of empiricism' onwards] he shows increasing tolerance of abstract entities in general if they can be seen to have a useful
role to play [a]. The ideas required by science, for example, are regarded as real as any physical entity. And he eventually came to reject
his earlier acceptance of phenomenalistic conceptual schemes.
Regimentation, together with Quine's views on the indeterminacy of translation, leads further to his concept of ontological relativity. If
there are different sets of analytical hypotheses to account for the matching of any one language with another, it must follow that there
can be different theories and conceptual schemes consistent with the empirical evidence in a given context [b]. We cannot therefore say
that the 'real' world will be represented correctly by one particular conceptual scheme. Indeed, to compare different schemes presupposes
a theoretical background which itself may be but one of many, alternatives.
Quine's ontology is thus hierarchical and allows what he calls 'semantic ascent'. By this means the move away from talk about putative
objects or ideas to talk about the very language we use for the purpose. As philosophers we may well start out front everyday or
'ordinary' language, but we can revise and restructure it, dispensing with certain concepts to suit our explanatory needs ; and we can
thereby move 'up' through the hierarchy of languages [c] from the 'everyday' way of looking at things, through natural sciences, to
mathematics and logic, and finally ontology depending on how much generality and abstraction we are prepared to allow.

THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE

[3] A second 'dogma' of empiricism rejected by Quine is the reductionist view espoused by some logical positivists that meaningful
statements can be translated into logical constructs out of terms which refer to immediate sensory experience, and which are taken to
constitute verification of synthetic statements. Indeed the second dogma, he thinks, is basically identical to the first. The idea that any
given true statement in isolation consists of a linguistic component and an extra-linguistic factual component is nonsense. (Analytic
statements are limiting cases which have no factual component and are confirmed vacuously.) Our statements about the world can be
confirmed or invalidated only 'holistically, as a "corporate body" [a]. As he says,
The totality of our knowledge or beliefs, from the most casual matters of geography and history to the profoundest laws of atomic
physics or even of pure mathematics and logic, is a man-made fabric which impinges on experience only along the edges ['Two
dogmas of empiricism'].
For Quine epistemology is to be naturalized, as a consequence of which many traditional philosophical issues may appeal to scientific
facts and empirical explanations. There is thus no clear distinction between knowledge, science, and philosophy. At all levels of the
semantic ascent what we can be said to know must depend on what entities we have chosen to admit into our conceptual schemes.
Philosophy is simply more general [b]. Nevertheless, although he thinks of physical objects not as defined in terms of experience but as
"irreducible posits" comparable epistemologically to the gods of Homer, he remains essentially an empirical physicalist. He regards the
conceptual scheme of 'science' (in its widest sense) as a tool for making predictions on the basis of past experience, and the postulation
of physical objects rather sense-data as a basis for successfully achieving a coherent and systematic structure out of our experience.
There is thus a strongly pragmatic flavour about his epistemology.

CRITICAL SUMMARY

Quine was probably one of the most important American philosophers of the twentieth century. Initially influenced by Carnap's logical
positivism he worked out over many years a comprehensive physicalist and pragmatic philosophy which combines vision with great
analytical power. Its most notable features include a sustained attempt to eliminate intensional terms in favour of extensional terms. This
can be seen in particular in his rejection of the analytic-synthetic distinction. His dislike of 'referential opacity' led him also to attack
efforts to formalize modal terms, which he saw as requiring acceptance of de re essentialism. Quine made radical use of Russell's logical
techniques to achieve 'regimentation' of ordinary language; and he regarded quantified variables as carrying ontological commitment'. In
his later work he advocated an appeal to socially observable stimuli as the basis of his physicalism and account of meaning. And in his
holistic ontology, implicit in a modifiable hierarchical 'semantic ascent', he made no clear distinction between science and philosophy.
As might be expected, criticism of Quine's work comes primarily from 'linguistic' philosophers (whether of the 'informal' or 'systematic'
varieties). Formal objections have been made of the viability of claims to eliminate linguistic terms and of his alleged obscuring of the
distinction between formal and informal logic. Many critics would say that Quine's attack on the analytic-synthetic distinction, powerful
though it may be, has failed; and that intensional terms have a legitimate function in everyday discourse; no circularity is involved if
they are accepted as interdependent. It is said also that he exaggerates the difficulties of intertranslatability; sufficient clarity can be
achieved in normal discourse and ambiguities avoided. Indeed it is questionable whether Quine's concerns about this issue are consistent
with his appeal to, in effect, a common pool of socially observable stimuli and with his attribution to language of an informational role.
Another serious objection is perhaps that it is arbitrary and presumptious to suppose that ontology is governable by what one chooses to
eliminate by logical techniques. Moreover, Quine himself seems to equivocate about his belief in the existence of abstract entities. Do
they 'really' exist? Or is it just a matter of ontic commitment determined by what is 'useful'?
 MERLEAU-PONTY
(1908 1961)

PHENOMENOLOGY
Maurice Merleau-Ponty was born in Rochefort-sur-Mer. Educated at lyces there and at the cole Normale Suprieure in Paris, he
gained his agrgation in 1931. He taught in various lyces and at the cole Normale. After war service he was appointed a professor at
the University of Lyon and then became Professor of Child Psychology at the Sorbonne. He accepted the Chair of Philosophy at the
Collge de France in 1952. He was a founder and co-editor with Sartre of Les Temps Modernes.

KNOWLEDGE/ METHOD/ PSYCHOLOGY

[1] Merleau-Ponty's philosophical agenda is clear from the title of his best-known work [The Phenomenology of Perception]. He starts
[Preface] with a criticism of interconnected inconsistencies in Husserl's philosophy. Husserl set out to establish philosophy as a 'rigorous
science' but he offered an account of space, time and the world as we 'live' them. Husserl also tried to give a direct description of
experience, without reference to its psychological origin or causal explanations, but in his last works he talked of a genetic and
constructive phenomenology. Perhaps the most serious contradiction, says Merleau-Ponty, is that while phenomenology is a
transcendental philosophy which brackets the question of the world's existence, yet it is also a philosophy "for which the world is
'already there' before reflection begins as an inalienable presence" and which it seeks to make a direct and primitive contact
with. What he objects to is Husserl's separation of the real world from the world considered as a phenomenon for consciousness [a]. For
Husserl the epoch provides a world which is nothing other than the intentional object of consciousness. Certainly Merleau-Ponty does
not claim any knowledge of things-in-themselves (Kantian noumena). But he does argue that attempts at a philosophical description of
the structures of consciousness show us not eidetically intuited essences but a world that transcends that consciousness and reveals itself
in and to it. He thus rejects the Husserlian notion of 'reduction' and his account of a pure transcendental ego. At the same time Merleau-
Ponty seeks to pass beyond what he sees as a return to dualism in Sartre's distinction between the in-itself and for-itself [b].
These views reflect Merleau-Ponty's affirmation of the primacy of perception [Part II] by means of which we gain access to the
world. But perception for him is not a mere reflection on passively received sensory data. The world we encounter in perception is a
'lived experience'. What transcendental reduction reveals is a 'body-subject' [Part I]. The body for Merleau-Ponty is much more than just
an entity to be treated as an inert object whose behaviour is to be explained exhaustively in terms of science as a "second order
expression of the world". But neither is it a pure, transparent subject. It exhibits 'ambiguously' both aspects or functions. He thus rejects
the claims of behaviourism and naturalism. The body must be seen also as a conscious 'subject' actively situated in the perceptual milieu
the presupposition for all conceptual thinking, rationality, value, existence. The situation the body-subject finds itself thrown into is
one of constant change: its relationship to the world and other persons its dialogue with them is thus dialectical, and the reduction
cannot be completed on account of 'ambiguity' [c].
[2] The central phenomenological themes of Merleau-Ponty's philosophy are already to be found in the first major work [ The Structure
of Behaviour]. This appears initially to be an essentially scientific work concerned with the psychology of human behaviour, but
underlying his investigations is his primary concern to overcome discontinuities, especially to bridge the gap between nature and
consciousness. To do so he starts by criticizing behaviourist theories. Following the Gestaltists [for example, Koffka and Koehler] he
argues that we are organisms who appear to exhibit goal-seeking activity. We do not react to stimuli in a purely passive mechanistic way,
but rather the situations we respond to we have already 'endowed with meaning'. Thus, for example, when we are hungry and come
across something which will satisfy our hunger our response is not just an activity to be analysed exhaustively in terms of the physical
and chemical structures of the object. Rather, we already see it as food, as an appropriate object to eat and to satisfy our inner needs
(Similarly we also see ambiguous figures 'as' one thing or 'as' another.) He accepts that bodily behaviour as such is a proper object of
scientific study in causal terms, but he denies that mental activity can be identified with physical behaviour of the organism or with a
network of reflexes, conditioned or otherwise. Science, he says, abstracts from the wholeness and purposiveness of living organisms.
Instead he postulates a hierarchy of qualitatively different levels of conceptualization in the structures of things . The lowest or physical
level is that at which the organism may be said to be the least 'purposive'. Its response to the environment is explicable in causal or
mechanistic terms. But at the vital, that is, biological level such responses have to be understood with reference to the organism's
structures and needs. At the highest, mental or human level the organism confers 'meaning' on the environment. This dialectical
relationship gives rise to holistic, spatial patterns. No level can be reduced to the lower level; the levels are as it were cumulative. Thus
we might say, for example, that while we can analyse ourselves in terms of atoms and molecules relating to the laws and theories of
physics and chemistry, the activity of complex molecules is describable by reference to the laws of biology. As for the highest level, we
appeal here to the fulfilment of purposes and needs. Explanation involves reasons rather than causes. There is no inconsistency between
the several sets of explanations appropriate at the different levels, and there is no reduction of biology to physics and chemistry, or of
human activity to biology. The lower levels do, however, contribute to the higher levels. According to Merleau-Ponty meaning must
therefore already have been conferred at a pre-conscious level of subjectivity. While he has rejected behaviourist psychology, and shows
the influence of Gestalt theory, he is at the same time critical of Gestalt psychology to the extent that it seems to treat 'wholes' or 'forms'
themselves as if they were causes, whereas causation is correctly to be attributed only to stimuli at the level of physical structures. With
his theory of cumulative structures Merleau-Ponty hoped to avoid both materialism and mentalism [a].
matter, life and mind must participate unequally in the nature of form; they must represent different degrees of integration and, finally,
must constitute a hierarchy in which individuality is progressively achieved [Pt III, Introd.].
[3] In The Structure of Behaviour he concentrates on scientific theories and then moves on to consider philosophical implications. But
in The Phenomenology of Perception his approach is explicitly philosophical. From the very start he situates himself in the perceptual
milieu and starts from the standpoint of the perceiving 'lived' body-subject. He criticizes both scientific empiricism and Cartesian
intellectualism. Thus he rejects the notion of isolated, discrete sensory data. Sense-data are abstractions, 'pure' sensations which have no
reference either to external reality or to the intentionality of consciousness. [See Introd., 1-4.] Following the Gestalt psychologists he
argues that elementary perceptions, or impressions are bound up with larger wholes already charged with significance. "We are
condemned to meaning", he says. A perception is always part of a phenomenal field [a]. The body-subject is the key notion not only in
his approach to perception but also to sexuality, language, freedom, and the cogito. He rejects the concept of body as a purely physical
object. It is through attribution to it of intentional structures that we can understand how it functions. The body-subject is that which
makes possible lived experience, that through which we perceive, feel, will, and act [b]. From this starting point what is needed, he
argues, is clarification of our "primary conception of the world". According to Merleau-Ponty there is a 'logic of the world' to which the
body conforms, thereby supplying us in advance with a 'setting' for our sensory-experiences. He refers to this as the 'pre-objective' realm
the horizon of the cultural, human life-world, by reference to which a proper understanding of perception can be achieved [c]. "A
thing is, therefore, not actually given in perception"; rather it is
internally taken by us, reconstituted and experienced by us in so far as it is bound up with a world, the basic structures of which we
carry with us, and of which it is merely one of many possible concrete forms [PP, Pt II, 3].
Thus the way we perceive the world through the body follows from the fact that consciousness as the highest manifestation of the body
is located in the world in a specific spatio-temporal context. He makes a distinction between 'bodily space' and 'external space' [Pt I, 3].
He seems here to be suggesting that one's awareness of one's body is a precondition of the consciousness that one has of being in the
world and that the body provides a reference point for the attribution of spatiality between one's body and other similarly connected
objects. Time likewise is understood in terms of one's occupation of it as a 'setting' in which both past and future, although belonging to
being are accessible only in the lived present of memory and agency [d]. The world, however, retains a unity independent of our
changing knowledge of it and of our activity towards truth through appearance. Human beings are engaged in a dialogue with the world
considered not only as a set of physical entities but also as containing other individuals or persons. And the 'other' is equally a 'body-
subject'. It cannot be both a being-in-itself, belonging to the world of caused and determinate objects, and a consciousness, a being-for-
itself which lacks an outside and parts. Both 'modes of being', he says, are presupposed in the concept of the body-subject the living
body as experienced. Body is "solidified or generalized existence", while existence is a "perpetual incarnation" [Pt I, 5]. We can see the
other as human subject only when his subjectivity is embodied. To see him only as body leads to conflict as sometimes occurs in sexual
relations. The gaze of another on my body causes me to experience shame. I am treated as an object and am depersonalized, become as a
slave. Alternatively, through my own immodest display I may dominate the other, render him defenceless. Paradoxically, his desire for
me and his consequent loss of freedom leads me no longer to value him. Sexuality, however, properly understood and utilized, is for
Merleau-Ponty one more form of original intentionality. Moreover, it 'interfuses' with existence and is thereby 'ambiguous' [e] in that it is
not possible to determine whether a decision or act is 'sexual' or 'non-sexual'.
Given Merleau-Ponty's account of embodied perception, it follows that for him a perceiver can be understood only as incarnated. What
is discoverable through the cogito, he says, is neither psychological immanence, the inherence of phenomena in 'private states of
consciousness', nor even a transcendental immanence where phenomena belong to a constituting consciousness. Rather what we find is a
deep-seated momentum of transcendence which is the perceiver's very being a simultaneous contact with his own being and that of
the world [Pt III, 1]. Thus he in effect avoids both the view that the thinking self or ego is that in which thoughts, perceptions, and so on,
inhere, and the view that the self is just the totality of sets or series of thoughts, perceptions. In perception the body-subject finds itself in
and inseparable from its surroundings. Perception is 'lived'. There is no autonomous subject which can be separated from its objects. At
the same time the subject is not a consciousness. We find ourselves, he says, in our performance or acts that is the body-subject in its
perceptual, sexual, linguistic engagement with the world. Thus, for Merleau-Ponty human beings do not exist in isolation from
others [f]. (At the end of the book he quotes St Exupry's observation, "Man is but a network of relationships, and these alone matter to
him".) And to the extent that at the highest, most purposive conscious level man is free from causal determinism he is aware of the
possibility of particular courses of action. But he goes on to argue that man is not free in a total or unlimited sense; he is constrained by
the historical and cultural environment in which he has been born and nurtured [Pt III, 3] [g]. A theory of freedom must take account of
what Merleau-Ponty calls a kind of 'sedimentation' of one's life. He means by this that we develop an attitude towards the world as we
become moulded by repeated experiences of it which are in some sense favourable meet our needs, interests. Choice is never
absolute; it can not be exercised in a vacuum, out of nothing. But neither are we completely determined.

ONTOLOGY
[4] Merleau-Ponty's critique of dualism is taken further in his last writings in the context of what he calls his 'ontology of flesh'. [See
especially Eye and Mind and The Visible and the Invisible.] His ontology may be described as a 'dialectical monism' in so far as he
rejects the dualistic analyses of Being into a pure free consciousness of the 'self' and the determinism or necessitation of the 'other' and
argues in favour of a mutual 'intertwining' (chiasme) of the lived body-subject and the world. (He here draws on the notion of reciprocity
implicit in his phenomenology of perception.) Being is both the silent, invisible ground of Nature and the visibility revealed through
it [a]. Being made visible constitutes what Merleau-Ponty calls "the flesh [chair] of the world". Flesh is the element of Being which
precedes and grounds the self and the other. It is the "anonymous visibility" neither material nor spiritual, nor substantial. Rather it is
"a sort of incarnate principle that brings a style of being wherever there is a fragment of being" [ V&I]. Man, as himself grounded in
Nature (he is not just a body-subject related to a specific historical-cultural situation), is a moment of instantiation of Being's self-
revelation. Thus grounded man is perceptible. But as revealer of Being, able to render visible the 'perceptible structures' of the world, he
is also the perceiver and contributes to its meaning. "One can say that we perceive the things themselves, that we are the world that
thinks itself or that the world is at the heart of our flesh" [ibid.]. Being as made visible is thus both that which "gives to us" and that
which we give to it [b].

LANGUAGE
[5] [See Phenomenology of Perception, Pt I, 6; also Consciousness and the Acquisition of Language; and Signs.] Following from his
rejection of dualism Merleau-Ponty argues that thought is inseparable from language. He denies that we can have concepts 'in the mind'
before they are expressed or articulated linguistically. New concepts are worked out in or through new expressions which he calls
collectively 'speaking word'; and he regards this process as the creative manifestation of the body-subject. Such expressions in due
course add to the corpus of social and public language the 'spoken word'. However, just as he allows for the conferring of meaning at
a 'pre-conscious' level so he attributes to the body a pre-linguistic understanding, a 'praktognosia' of its world though this is an aspect
of and inseparable from the body's behaviour[PP, Pt. I, 3] [a]. Thought is to the body's subjectivity as language is to its 'objective'
corporality, the two dimensions constituting one reality. He also recognises that his concept of the body-subject is difficult to articulate in
so far as our language has built into it a bias towards dualism. We must therefore struggle to create a new language in order to express
this central concept [b]. He later [CAL] draws on the structuralist view that the meaning and usage of language has to be grasped
synchronically by reference to the relationship between signs and not diachronically by reference to the history of linguistic
development; and he sees in this evidence or support for his own claim that the body-subject is involved in a lived relation with the
world, because language here and now is, as it were, the living present in speech . Merleau-Ponty's emphasis is thus on parole, that is the
'signified' meaning which is 'enacted', as opposed to 'langue' which refers to the total structure of 'signs' [c] the meanings and
words which parole, as a set of individual speech-acts (be they English, Chinese, or any other language), instantiates.
It is through language and its intersubjectivity that the intentionality of the body-subject makes sense of the world. And he makes it clear
that language is to be understood in a wide sense as including all 'signs', employed not only in literature but also in art, science, indeed in
the cultural dimension as a whole. Indeed the significance of a created work lies in this intersubjectivity in the reader's or viewer's 're-
creation' of it as well as in the work itself as originally created by the writer or artist. Moreover, in an era when science is increasingly
alienating man from the real, language and the arts in particular are particularly suited to be the means for this revelation. Through the
lived experience in which language is articulated in our actions, art, literature, and so on (that is, in 'beings' as signifiers) it opens
up to the Being of all things [see The Visible and the Invisible]. Contemplated against the 'background of silence', language then comes
to be seen as a 'witness to Being' [Signs] [d].

ETHICS/ POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY

[6] Merleau-Ponty agreed that we must start from a collectively accepted set of meanings and values of our world, but he says that from
this position we can exercise our freedom to choose and thereby create ourselves as moral beings . Initially his views on ethics would
seem to have been posited in the context of Marxist social and political theory. But while he was sympathetic to the grounding of
consciousness in the material infrastructure, he rejected a historical dialectic and the subordination of the individual to the collective .
Nevertheless, he accepted the consequentialist view that 'objective history' is the final arbiter of individual choice and action regardless
of intentions. In general we can say he set out to define a position which would avoid both an 'objectivist' material 'in itself' and an
'idealist' 'for itself' but which yet reconciles the two in 'ambiguity' [a]. He attacked Marxist theory as appropriated by Communism and
came to see this capacity of Marxism to be adapted in this way as an indication of fundamental flaws in the theory itself [see The Risks
of Dialectic]. A genuine revolutionary movement, he argues, must seek only to guide tendencies in society, not to impose its dogma. To
the extent that it is directed against a particular class it is doomed to become degenerate, and it cannot therefore be the agency through
which a historical process operates. History itself is not a rigid monolithic objectification of a necessary dialectic but a contingent and
multilayered sequence of events; and Marxism, if adopted as a theoretical instrument for the development of society, must itself take
cognisance of history and submit to revision in the light of changing circumstances.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
For many years Merleau-Ponty's writings were undeservedly neglected outside France. More recently, however, his merits as a
philosopher have been increasingly recognised not least by many philosophers working in the 'analytic' tradition (despite the
complexity and prolixity of his style characteristic of much twentieth century continental philosophy). Of particular significance are
his rejection of both rationlism/ idealism and positivistic and reductionist empiricism, his concept of the 'body-subject' and a 'holistic'
account of perception and action as operating within the domain of intersubjectivity, and his dialectical 'ontology of flesh'. He accepted
Husserl's epoch and phenomenological reduction but argued that this leads not to a separated transcendental consciousness or ego but to
essences of 'lived experience'; and while emphasising the Cartesian primacy of the self he sought to overcome dualist theories (including
Sartre's sharp distinction between the pour-soi and the en soi) through an appeal to his doctrine of 'ambiguity', by which he understands a
theme or the meaning of a word as open to different interpretations, depending on the context, none of which should be regarded as
privileged [a]. He was also critical of attempts to reconcile existentialism and Marxism, arguing that a reworking of both is needed.
Merleau-Ponty was probably aware of most of the contentious issues raised by his thought, but owing to his untimely death he was
unable to complete a number of projects which most probably would have addressed these. Two points in particular should be
mentioned.
(1) (With reference to his early work) how transition from one structural level to another is to be effected has, arguably, not been fully
worked out. But many commentators would accept that his account of degrees of rationality and of freedom of the body-subject acting
within the constraints of causal determinism might prove to be more successful in resolving the seemingly intractable problem of
dualism while avoiding the difficulties of reductive naturalist theories.
(2) Some critics maintain that an unresolved tension remains between the extremes of a 'subjective' idealism and an 'objective' realism.
This might well be seen to be compounded by his later acceptance of a structuralist account of language, in so far as the distinction
between the lived experience of the subject and the described experience articulated through language (parole) and 'meanings' is itself
made within the linguistic framework. This would seem to prevent access to the objective world of the 'other'.

AYER
(1910 1989)

LOGICAL POSITIVISM/EMPIRICISM
The son of a French-Swiss timber merchant and a Dutch Jewish mother, Sir Alfred Ayer was educated at Eton (where he was a militant
atheist), Christ Church, Oxford, and at the University of Vienna. In Vienna he attended meetings run by Carnap and other logical
positivists. His espousal of this philosophy and his publication of Language, Truth and Logic in 1936 shook the conservative
establishment at Oxford, to which he had returned as lecturer at Christ Church three years earlier. After war service he became Dean of
Wadham College, Oxford and in 1946 was appointed Grote Professor of the Philosophy of Mind and Logic at London University. In
1949 he was back again at Oxford as Wykeham Professorship of Logic and a Fellow of New College. He was elected Fellow of the
British Academy in 1952 and was knighted in 1970. He was President of the Humanist Association for six years, and was also an
enthusiastic football fan (Tottenham Hotspur).

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE AND LOGIC

[1] Ayer [Language, Truth and Logic, ch. IV] distinguished two classes of significant propositions. (1) Synthetic propositions, which
concern matters of fact, are testable by observation, and thus are known a posteriori. (2) The formal propositions of logic and
mathematics, on the other hand, which have nothing to say about the world, are said to be analytic and therefore tautological, in that they
are true 'conventionally' by virtue of the meanings of their constituent symbols, and are thus known a priori. Any propositions which do
not fall into either of these two classes Ayer held to be 'metaphysical' and non-sensical [a]. Underlying this position was his commitment
to the verification principle: a proposition is significant if and only if it is either a tautology or empirically verifiable. Ayer in fact
distinguished between a strong and weak form of the principle. As the strong form that a proposition is meaningless unless its truth
can be conclusively established by observation seems to rule out universal laws or propositions about the past, he confined himself to
the weak form, which requires only that some observation should be 'relevant' to the determination of a proposition's truth or
falsity [b]. In his introduction to the second edition of Language, Truth and Logic, in response to criticism, he modified his statement of
the verification principle still further. He first of all distinguished between sentences, statements, and propositions. Sentences are
grammatically significant sets of words or symbols; and all indicative sentences, whether or not they are literally meaningful, express
statements. Statements which are literally meaningful he termed 'propositions'. (For the sake of brevity he applied the principle of
verification to statements rather to the sentences which express them.) He defined a proposition as "a class of sentences which have the
same intensional [N.B. 'intenSional'] significance for anyone who understands them" [ch. V]. He rejected the view that propositions were
real entities or the objects of 'intentional attitudes' [N.B. 'intenTional'] [c] [See also Central Questions of Philosophy, ch. IX].
Recognising the vagueness of his usage of the term 'relevant' he proposed a version of the principle expressed in terms of deduction of an
observation-statement in conjunction with certain other premisses, without its being deducible from them alone. But as this allowed
meaning to any indicative statement whatsoever he reformulated the principle once more, now distinguishing between direct and indirect
verifiability. As to the status of the principle itself, it was pointed out by critics that it was neither a tautology nor a deduction from
observation-statements. Ayer therefore said that he regarded it (in the weak form) not as an empirical hypothesis but as a stipulative
definition [LTL, 2nd edn, Introduction]; and that it perhaps should have been interpreted as providing a means to demarcate literal sense
from nonsense [CQP, II A] [d].
Having, as he thought, eliminated metaphysics Ayer supposed he could pursue philosophy as an exercise in analysis, in the sense that its
job is to investigate the logical relations and intertranslatability between various classes and levels of statements (object language, sense-
experience language, scientific statements, 'common sense' ones). Philosophy is therefore now to be understood properly as a
"department of logic"[LTL, ch. II]. Underlying Ayer's general approach, particularly in his later writings, is the view that philosophy is a
quest for justification [e]. He was therefore critical of the methods and assumptions of 'ordinary language' philosophy , which he felt is
not particularly illuminating or helpful in dealing with philosophical problems. And while he allowed [The Problem of Knowledge, ch. II,
v] that words must be used in accordance with a set of rules if they are to be given descriptive meaning, he said it is open to individuals
to use rules of their own without it being essential that they should be capable of being publicly checked. In principle Ayer therefore
allows the possibility of a 'private language' [f].

KNOWLEDGE
[2] In his account of perception Ayer initially [Foundations of Empirical Knowledge and 'Phenomenalism'] promoted a theory of
linguistic phenomenalism. He argued that observation cannot help us to decide between 'realist' and 'sense-datum' theories. He saw it as a
question of 'convenience' whether we adopt the realist view that material objects can possess different colours at the same time or the
sense-datum view that they cannot. It comes down, in the last analysis, to a decision to use a technical 'sense-datum' language, into
which sentences about material objects can be translated, at least in principle [FEK, I] [a]. The sense-datum language, Ayer argues, is
best able to deal with the problem of illusion. He accepted, however, that the latter can never formally specify material objects precisely,
so that we cannot analyse statements about, say, a table into a set of statements about sense-data. [See Problem of Knowledge, ch. III, vi.]
Nevertheless the attempt to construct assertions about material objects out of empirical data is still legitimate.
In the Problem of Knowledge [ch. III, vii] Ayer also considered the issue of perceptual knowledge in the context of his examination
of justification in the face of sustained assaults by sceptics [ch. II]. In earlier writings [for example, Language, Truth and Logic, Introd;
and 'Basic Propositions'] he had supposed there to be 'basic propositions' (such as 'This looks to me to be red') which are 'incorrigible'.
He had already criticized the claims of the 'cogito' [LTL, II; see also PK, II, iii], but he also later came to reject the empiricists' claim to
incorrigibility [PK, II, vi; see also FEK, II, 8] and agreed that the sceptic is correct in denying that sense-datum statements are either
equivalent to or are a logically conclusive proof for material object statements. However, he says the former can be used for judging the
latter this constitutes 'justification'. Indeed, having knowledge as such was regarded by Ayer as having the right to be sure about one's
belief in the truth of a statement; and it is a matter of how strict we wish to make the criteria. But the logical possibility of error cannot
be ruled out. And this could occur even in one's own 'private language' [see 1g], for making mistakes in assessing one's experience need
not be the same as making mistakes in one's choice of the correct words to describe it. [See PK, chs 2, v; on sense-data see
also Metaphysics and Commonsense, 'A Reply to Austin', and CQP, ch. IV A.]
The notion of justification is discussed further in The Central Questions of Philosophy [ch. VIII C]. Here Ayer says that a belief is
justified if it accords with the available evidence, or is derivable from some wider generalization [b]. However, this raises the problem
whether it is sufficient that the propositions used to justify a belief are true. This would give us a criterion for justification, but it does not
require us to know that the criterion has been complied with. Is it therefore necessary that we should have a good reason to believe that
they are true? If so, we run the risk of an infinite regress. We can stop this only by making special rulings on the basis that there is
evidence of a given strength in its favour.
In Problem of Knowledge [ch. II, ix] and Central Questions [III E] Ayer identified three standpoints characterizable by their different
responses to the sceptic. (1) The naive realist denies there is a gap to be bridged between sense-impressions and physical objects: we
perceive such objects directly. (2) The reductionist (including early Ayer) accepts the sceptic's objections on this point but argues that
statements about physical objects are translatable into statements about sense-impressions. If the sceptic opposes this claim, it is open to
those who adopt a 'scientific' approach to argue (3) that the existence of physical objects is a probable hypothesis which one is justified
in accepting because of the way it accounts for our experience. Even if this claim is rejected, it can be argued that justification need not
be confined to either deductive or inductive procedures as the sceptic seems to suppose.
Ayer's later theory of perception [The Origins of Pragmatism] is based on a distinction between a realist theory of being, which gives
primacy to physical objects, and an 'empiricist-sensory' theory of knowledge he now refers to our experiences as 'qualia' [c]. Priority
in knowledge is thus no longer coincident with what is supposed to be prior in being. He argues further that out of the spatio-temporal
relations which are given to us directly in our sense-experience we can construct a system of physical space and time. The ontological
issue now is whether the realm of physical objects is best understood in terms of nave, commonsense 'realism' (tables and chairs, and
people) or of science (atoms and molecules, etc) [see 3c].
Ayer's general methodological approach is also apparent in his treatment of problems of the self, other minds, and memory. Earlier [LTL,
Introd. and ch. VII] he had argued for a theory that statements about other people's minds are translatable or 'constructible' into
statements about their bodies. However this leads to the problem that we must consistently regard statements about our own minds as
being equivalent to statement about our own bodies. Rejecting this behaviourist analysis Ayer therefore argues [ CQP, ch. VI E; see also
'One's Knowledge of Other Minds'] that the accounting for the behaviour of others by analogouslyattributing to them conscious
thoughts, sensations, emotions, purposes, like those I directly experience in myself, is a consequence of accepting a "whole body of
theory". One does not have to rely on inductivism [as he does in The Problem of Knowledge]. Similarly it is possible that my memories
and therefore statements about the past are mistaken. But notwithstanding the logical possibility that an occurrence of a memory
experience may be logically consistent with the non-existence of the previous event of which it purports to be a memory, the realistic
view that memory is trustworthy is simpler [d], "besides supplying the goods in which the other theory [namely, memories of an unreal
past] trades".

METAPHYSICS
[3] Ayer's early logical positivist philosophy was iconoclastic and explicitly anti-metaphysical in virtue of the verification theory of
meaning. However, his later writings [see especially Metaphysics and Common Sense] suggest he had acquired a more sympathetic
attitude. He now regarded metaphysics as an attempt to build a system which would accommodate contemporary scientific concepts and
principles. Metaphysics was thus seen as a kind of revisionary and constructive analysis [a], and as having some explanatory value as a
'secondary system' [CQP, III C] [see below 3c]. In Language, Truth and Logic he seemed to be committed to a 'neutral monist'
ontology. Central to this was the claim that 'entities' such as physical objects and minds could be turned into logical constructions
(namely, 'sets of experiences) by a process of reductive analysis and thereby be shown to be 'unreal' [b]. However, he came to adopt the
view that one must choose between one of two supposedly conflicting realist 'systems' the scientific account of physical objects (in
terms of particles, and so on) and the common sense or realist view that the world consists of tables, trees, and the like. In Central
Questions [ch. VE] he discusses the scientific theory in terms of primary and a secondary system. The primary system includes the data
(of immediate perception) and the propositions that support the theory, while the theory as such belongs to the secondary system (which
also includes 'entities' which cannot be identified with objects of the primary system but which are conceptual tools for arranging the
primary facts). In the case of conflict the one system is treated as concerned with fact, the other as explanatory. Because the distinction
between fact and theory is only relative, Ayer thinks we have some choice as to where to draw the line, but says a "reasonable decision"
can be made. The question of what actually exists is an empirical one to be considered within the framework of the theory which
supplies criteria for answering it [c]. [See also CQP, VII B. and The Origins of Pragmatism.]
On the question of minds, Ayer [CQP, VI B] rejects claims that there are mental substances or transcendental egos. We have no
empirical or other grounds for asserting the existence of such entities. There is no self other than inter-relations of experiential data. The
claim to self-consciousness, he says, is just the claim that one's present or past experiences are one's own. Moreover, 'I' and 'my body' are
not simply substitutable. Rather, "my body is grammatically represented as one of my possessions". However, he allows that grammar is
not always a safe guide to the facts [d]. The use of the personal pronoun commits us to no more than is strictly necessary for the
establishment of one's self-identity; and experiences suitably related to one's body and to each other are sufficient or this purpose. Our
sensations, perceptions, and thoughts are indeed mental acts: but for Ayer they do not have 'intentional' objects; rather they are to be
understood as predicable to 'persons' regarded as physical objects (which, like other physical objects are the "product of theory").
Thus Ayer does not deny we have an inner private life; and he rejects 'physicalist', that is, behavioural or dispositional theories as well as
functionalist and identity theories of mind [CQP, VI D; see also Philosophy in the Twentieth Century, passim] [e].

METHODOLOGY
[4] The distinction between primary and secondary systems is employed also in Ayer's analysis of explanation [CQP, VII]
and causation [VII C, VIII D]. He says that the ascription of causality involves nothing more than a de facto correlation or constant
conjunction of facts, and that this implies reference to a generalization of a law-like character in that it can be 'projected' over
undetermined or imaginary instances. (He argues for causal terms to be considered as facts rather than as events, because in this way
they can accommodate 'negative' causes, and they fit in better with the complexity of usage to cover states of affairs at different
observational or theoretical levels.) Correlations occur at the primary level while projections take place at the explanatory secondary
level [a]. However, he argues that not all constant conjunctions are causal: some correlations are accidental, and many may relate to
human decisions and actions, and the generalizations we are 'disposed' to project need be no more than "generalizations of tendency".
The difference between accidental generalizations and generalizations of law consists in a difference in our attitude towards them.
Generalizations of fact are more 'vulnerable' to new information in a way that generalizations of law are not. But the latter entail
'unfulfilled conditionals'. A particular event upon which we base a projection is said to be the cause and a 'necessary' condition only in
the sense that the behaviour would not have occurred without the event (that is, the corresponding statement is a counterfactual
conditional). In general, rejecting the distinction between motives and causes, Ayer considers the explanatory model of the natural
sciences can be extended to the human sciences [see 'Man as a Subject for Science'] [b]. In universal generalizations, he suggests, there
are various features which lead us to single out one factor rather than another as the cause (for example, the results of our own actions,
the role played by events in a wider explanatory system, and so on). Otherwise identification of such factors is arbitrary. In the last
analysis, cause and effect have their place only in our imaginative arrangements and extensions of the facts at the primary level.
Ayer's account of explanation requires theories to fit the facts, that is, if they are to have any explanatory value they must be empirically
testable. This leads to the problem of induction [CQP, VII A, VIII A] (though he says that simple inductive procedures achieving
universal hypotheses by generalizing from observed instances have a part to play in comparison with the advancing of theories by
connecting events in novel ways). The assumption that event A will be followed by event B (it having done so on a previous occasion)
presupposes that nature is uniform. However, he argues [Probability and Evidence and CQP, VIII A] that in formulating the principle we
must avoid making it either too strong or too weak. If it is made too strong, we force it into a deductive form (premisses, conclusion)
which will be invalidated by any exception. If it is too weak, it will be consistent with any sequence of events. It is legitimate, indeed
necessary, to seek for 'backing', but Ayer accepts that the possibility of error cannot be eliminated [c]. As noted above [see 2b], there is a
problem with attempts to justify our beliefs. There is also a problem with evidence. Confirmation procedures are beset with paradoxes
(such as Hempel's). Even the falsificationist approach is inadequate [CQP, VIII C] [d]. It is an inductive step, Ayer says, to assume that a
theory which has passed a variety of testing procedures leading to increasing degrees of corroboration is a better guide to the future than
one which as not been tested or which has but has been found wanting. Morever, we do require hypotheses to be confirmed. Consider the
hypothesis that malaria is contracted as a result of a mosquito bite. According to the falsificationist we should not be interested in a
person bitten by the insect if we did not know whether he had malaria, because his case could not falsify the hypothesis. But, according
to Ayer, if the experimenter discovered that the subject had contracted the disease this would be taken as confirmation.
The concepts of backing and testing are connected with that of probability; and this is also relevant to Ayer's concern with the
assessment of evidence in the context of his critique of scepticism and his analysis of justification. [See CQP, VIII, B; also Probability
and Evidence.] To explain probability Ayer discusses three senses of the term used in different kinds of statements, and which he says
must be kept distinct. (1) A priori statements such as those about, say, the throwing of dice. These relate to the mathematical calculus of
chance and has nothing to say about the likelihood of actual events. (2) Statistical statements, such as that about the probability that an
unborn child will be a boy. These relate to a frequency theory referring to classes of events, and therefore are not helpful in individual
cases, as an individual may belong simultaneously to different classes and this gives rise to problems of choice. (3) Statements of
'credibility'. These may be based on statistics. But Ayer rejects the view that they can be understood in terms of a logical relation; for (i)
they then become analytic; (ii) the probability may vary according to the evidence. There can be no grounds for deciding between
different statements all of which are logically true. How then is evidence assessed? Can we be sure it has all been gathered in a given
explanatory situation? Is there not an arbitrary element involved? Ayer argues that "'p' is probable" is to be understood as meaning that it
is reasonable to believe 'p' rather than as a qualified assertion of 'p' [e]. We must therefore appeal to all relevant factors, negative or
positive. But this gives rise to the problem of the reliability of sample instances. Are they fair or deviant? Ayer says they must be
supposed to be fair; we can go no further.
Ayer's conclusion from his discussion of paradoxes and probability that, whatever the evidence, we still have some latitude in our choice
of the hypotheses we are going to project. We can offer different criteria or standards of rationality, but in the last analysis the only test is
whether the method of choosing hypotheses 'works' whether the past proves to be a successful guide to the future [f]. And by 'success'
he means the likelihood of our being correct, as measured in terms of the theories we accept.

ETHICS/ AESTHETICS
[5] Ayer's views on ethics were first set out in Language, Truth and Logic [ch. VI] and generally remained unchanged in later essays
[see, for example, 'On the Analysis of Moral Judgements']. (He notes that what he will say about statements of ethics applies to
statements of aesthetics, and indeed to all 'judgements of value'.) He starts by dividing ethical statements into four classes: (1)
propositions which express definitions of ethical terms or judgements about such definitions; (2) propositions which describe
phenomena of ordinary experience; (3) "exhortations to moral virtue"; and (4) actual ethical judgements. He then confines his discussion
to the first class, which he says are the only propositions properly belonging to ethical philosophy. (The others are either propositions of
psychology or sociology or are not really propositions at all.) Ayer denies that 'normative' sentences (for example, 'x is wrong') are
equivalent to sentences expressing any kind of empirical propositions and so he rejects two kinds of naturalistic moral philosophy
subjectivism and utilitarianism [a]. According to one version of the former, to call an action right, or a thing good, is to say that it is
generally approved. But Ayer argues that no self-contradiction is involved in saying that some generally approved of action is not right,
or a thing not approved of is good. Similarly, in the case of utilitarianism, there is no self-contradiction involved in asserting that it is
sometimes wrong to perform the action which would actually or probably cause the greatest happiness. He also rejects 'intuitionist' or
absolutist' theories, as they provide no criterion for determining the validity of moral judgements. Although according to such theories
moral judgements are held to be synthetic, they are also regarded as not empirically verifiable. However, Ayer agrees with the absolutists
that fundamental ethical concepts (good, duty, obligation) are unanalysable. However, he regards them as 'pseudo' concepts [b], in that
they add nothing to the factual content of statements such as 'You stole the money' in 'You were wrong to steal the money'. His own
position is that ethical and aesthetic statements have no objective validity. Ethical and aesthetic concepts not only serve to express
feeling; they also an emotive function, namely, to arouse feelings, for example, of moral disapproval, so as to stimulate action . And some
are used in such a way as to give the sentences in which they are used the effect of commands [c]. In cases of dispute, argument is not
about values but about questions of fact whether, for example, a person has misjudged the consequences of an action, or the
motivation of the agent, and so on.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Although in the course of his long career Ayer moved some way from the youthful radicalism of Language, Truth and Logic, he
remained firmly committed to the basic assumptions of empiricism. Philosophy is regarded as essentially the "logic of science" the
analysis of interrelations and translatability between different classes and levels of statements. However, the modifications he introduced
are significant. He came to be less concerned to eliminate metaphysics than to investigate how knowledge claims might be justified in
the face of scepticism; and this led him to examine the concepts of evidence and probability. His broadly pragmatic approach and appeal
to 'reasonableness' allowed it to be a matter of choice how strong one's criteria for knowledge should be. His linguistic phenomenalism
gave way to a more physicalist approach later grounded in his distinction between primary (factual) and secondary (explanatory)
systems. Persons too are physical objects, the 'self' being understood in terms of interrelated experiential data. He preserved the privacy
of 'inner' life against behaviourism and dispositional theories but also rejected Cartesian or transcendental accounts. Generally the
question of what there is is a matter to be determined by criteria appropriate to the theoretical framework within which one is by choice
operating.
Perhaps the main objection to Ayer's general approach comes from linguistic philosophers. They criticize his ready acceptance that our
conceptual scheme may be modified as utility requires without any recognition of the alleged primacy of our everyday publicly validated
discourse, and also his conviction that any change has to be effected in conjunction with our scientific theories. The distinction he made
between primary and secondary systems, and within which he accommodated his account of physical objects and minds, is thus rejected.
It has also been claimed that Ayer is too firmly wedded to the distinction between logical and factual statements. Recent work has raised
questions about the supposed a priori-analytic-necessary and a posteriori-synthetic-contingent parallelism. And although he had been
receptive to Quine's ontology, Ayer never responded to his critique of the analytic-synthetic distinction itself. His ethical theory has also
elicited considerable critical response. It has been said that while ethical statements do have an evaluative function they also have both
prescriptive and descriptive functions. Even if this alternative account is equally contentious, most philosophers would accept, as against
Ayer, that ethical statements are more than just expressions of feelings. Moral terms have 'meaning' (however this may be construed). It
is also questionable whether the notion of a moral dispute can have purchase given Ayer's premisses. Is the dispute just about, say,
misunderstanding or motives, or about consequences?

AUSTIN
(1911 60)

'ORDINARY LANGUAGE' ANALYTIC PHILOSOPHY

Born in Lancaster and educated at Shrewsbury School and Balliol College, Oxford, where he read Literae Humaniores, John Langshaw
Austin was elected Fellow of All Souls in 1933 and a Tutorial Fellow of Magdalen two years later. After war service in British
intelligence (during which he was awarded the Croix de Guerre and appointed Officer of the Legion of Merit) he returned to Oxford. He
was elected White's Professor of Moral Philosophy and Fellow of Corpus Christi in 1952. In 1955 he was William James Lecturer at
Harvard, and in 1958 was elected fellow of the British Academy.

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE
[1] Austin's primary interest was in the philosophy of language. He supposed that careful (albeit non-systematic) empirical examination
of linguistic usage and distinctions could often show that various philosophical doctrines were fundamentally flawed, and that the
problems they purported to solve were really pseudo-problems. However, more positively, he also claimed that language analysis might
uncover genuine problems, and supposed that they could be resolved through the introduction of a new and more refined terminology.
He did not consider what is often called 'ordinary language' to have any kind of special status, though he said that, where practical
matters are concerned, it would be a mistake to neglect the distinctions such language makes. [See 'A Plea for Excuses'.] He called this
kind of philosophy 'linguistic phenomenology' [a]; and he regarded it as the starting-point of a new 'science' of language.
His techniques were applied in many branches of philosophy. Thus, in the philosophy of action he examined the concept of choice, by
accurately analysing the usage of 'could have' in such a sentence as 'I could have done x if I had so chosen'. [See 'Ifs and Cans'.] He
argued against the claim that 'should' is substitutable for 'could' and implied that it is mistaken to suppose it is always a conditional that is
implied by 'if', or that a conditional has to be causal (from which he seemed to draw the conclusion that freedom to perform actions is
not a causal power) [b]. Another good example is his treatment of the concept of a sense-datum in perception theory. What we directly
perceive, he argued, are not sense-data (yellow patches, bent shapes, and so on) but material objects (the moon, an actual stick in water),
which appear to us in some quite understandable ways, depending on circumstances. Furthermore, it is mistaken, he said, to regard some
sense-data or 'sensibilia' as constituting the directly verifiable foundations for incorrigible propositions which might provide the basis for
knowledge [Sense and Sensibilia] [c].
In his early work [for example, 'Other Minds'] Austin had already made an important distinction between 'performative' and 'descriptive'
(later called 'constative') utterances. When I say I know that something is he case I am not describing a state of mind but asserting my
authority for making the claim. Like promising to do something, 'knowing' is a performative word. Performatives cannot be true or false,
only 'happy'/ 'unhappy'. Similarly there are performatory features about the utterance 'p is true'. But Austin argued for a modified
correspondence theory of truth which is couched in terms of (a) 'descriptive' conventions, which correlate sentences with types of
situations to be found in the world, and (b) 'demonstrative' conventions (statements, that is, sentences in use) which actually obtain in the
world at a given time [see 'Truth'] [d].
In the face of difficulties arising out of his distinction between performatives and descriptive/ constative utterances Austin developed a
more sophisticated classification. [See 'Performative-Constative' and How to do Things with Words, XI.] There are, he said, three kinds
of speech-act.
(1) 'Locutionary' acts. In such instances we utter sentences with a certain sense and reference to convey meaning.
(2) 'Illocutionary' acts. These utterances are deemed to carry a certain 'force' as when we intend to inform, order, warn someone, and
so on.
(3) 'Perlocutionary acts. These speech-acts are those which produce a particular effect, whether or not they are intended or are successful.
He argued that any given utterance is both locutionary and illocutionary; meaning and force cannot be sharply distinguished within the
total speech-act. He therefore no longer appeals to a distinction between purely constative (descriptive) and purely performative
utterances [e].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Austin's highly original work on the analysis of linguistic distinctions was influential for some time in post-war Oxford. However, more
recently a number of commentators have drawn attention to what they perceive to be limitations of his way of doing philosophy.
(1) It is said that while analysis of ordinary linguistic usage may indicate, for example, that arguments for the existence of something
being as it looks are erroneous, it does not follow that the philosophical problems associated with the foundation of perceptual beliefs
have disappeared.
(2) Some critics have pointed to what they see as inadequacies in his actual treatment of some particular problems. Strawson, for
example, has argued that in his theory of truth Austin has confused semantic conditions governing the truth of a statement S 1, which
asserts that S2 is true, with what is actually asserted when we say S 2 is true. the primary concern should be how we use the word 'true'
rather than when.
(3) A more general objection is that an analysis of speech-acts does not help us to answer the question of what it actually is to understand
linguistic rules. However, it should be said that Austin tended to be interested in linguistic distinctions for their own sake rather than for
any incidental application they might have to problem solving. But when he does consider traditional problems, his view that 'revision',
namely, a 'straightening out' of ordinary language and the introduction of new terminology, is needed if those problems are to be tackled
satisfactorily, has been questioned by philosophers in the tradition of (the later) Wittgenstein.

HAMPSHIRE
(1914 2004 )

ANALYTIC PHILOSOPHY/
'DESCRIPTIVE METAPHYSICS'
Sir Stuart Hampshire was born in Lincolnshire and educated at Repton School and Balliol College, Oxford. He was elected to a
Fellowship of All Souls in 1938. After the war he taught philosophy at University College, London and from 1950 at Oxford, where he
was a Fellow of New College, before returning to University College, London as Professor of Mind and Logic. In 1960 he was elected a
Fellow of the British Academy. From 1970-84 he was Warden of Wadham College, Oxford. He later taught at Stanford and Princeton
Universities. He was knighted in 1979.

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE AND MIND

[1] Hampshire [Thought and Action] subscribes to the view that careful analysis of linguistic usage can lead to the resolution of
philosophical problems. In particular he is concerned with identifying those features of our conceptual scheme which are required for
language and thought. While such features may be in a sense basic, he allows for the possibility that our concepts may change. He does
not give 'ordinary' language a special status [a]. More general surveys of our conceptual schemes may be required especially in relation
to human choice and action. Hampshire's position can be seen clearly in his examination of the concept of a person [ibid.]. If we look at
the way language functions we can see that for it to be used to pick out objects the concept of a person must be fundamental ; an appeal
to sensations alone would fail. What then is a person? Persons may be described by reference both to physical features and conscious
states [b]. Hampshire goes on to distinguish between explanations of a person's behaviour as supplied both by someone else (and with
reference to scientific accounts in terms of causes) and accounts given by the individual agent himself. He thus clearly distinguishes
between self-determined human actions and externally predictable events. Psychoanalytic techniques can also be employed to reveal
unconscious factors which may underlie dispositions. Human dispositions, open to general explanation, are contrasted with dispositional
properties of material things (the solubility of salt in water, for example). These accounts presuppose the possibility of direct 'recessive'
introspection of inner mental states, feelings, intentions, and dispositions (as reasons) to behave in various ways, and not amenable to
scientific investigation and causal analysis, and therefore the possibility of 'standing back' from our situation [c]. Herein lies the
possibility of achieving greater self-knowledge of how we shall actually act in specific circumstances. And the greater our understanding
of the ways our mental life operates the more control we have over our behaviour, and the more free we become [d].
However, Hampshire argues that such self- knowledge requires also to be considered in the context of a physical environment with the
possibility of communication with other persons. And he stresses that while the concept of a self-conscious intentional agent is the fixed
point for an understanding of ourselves, our idea of a human nature is conditioned by or relative to changing historical circumstances [e].
These factors clearly have ethical implications in that they force us to consider motives, decisions, ends, and responsibilities.
Hampshire's arguments are developed and elaborated in Freedom of the Individual.
ETHICS/ POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY
[2] In his later writings Hampshire examined the distinction between 'public' and 'private' morality and the kinds of conflicts that can
arise between them, and attempted to develop a 'universal ethics' grounded in a 'minimalist' view of justice.
Central to his thesis [a clear statement is to be found in 'Justice is Strife'] are the concepts of reason, conflict, and justice. Rather than
starting from the Platonic-Aristotelian view that reason is the highest 'faculty' of the divided soul he looks to the role played by
rationality in human institutions where it finds application and is exercised [a]. Reason, he says, comprehends a multitude of activities,
such as the study of mathematics and logic, the weighing of evidence in the natural sciences or in historical or criminal investigations.
But it is also manifested in other activities (which since Vico and Kant have been attributed to the imagination), for example, story-
telling, poetry, religious ritual, singing and playing music, in ceremonies celebrating the dead, marriage customs, and the description of
ideal societies and ideal persons and ways of life. These activities vary greatly from society to society, and in different historical times.
Such diversity, like that of natural languages, helps to establish the identity of populations and cultures. But inevitably they are also the
source of conflict. How are conflicts to be resolved?
Hampshire rejects the idea of a 'substantial' justice, that is, a normative justice which evalutes political or legal decisions apart from the
procedures that determine them and which refers to some specific moral theory or set of moral principles. There are as many different
principles of substantial justice as there are distinct ideals and moral theories [b]. And concepts of substantial justice are divisive. In
developing his own position he acknowledges the importance of the contribution made by Rawls's theory of justice, particularly with
respect to the notion of fairness. But he argues that Rawls's restriction of principles of justice to those which are rationally chosen by
those who live in a liberal and democratic society is insufficient [c] (1) because illiberal and antidemocratic citizens will have no good
reason to accept some of them, for example, the principle of liberty (and people whose conception of good and evil is founded on a
supernatural authority may regard tolerance of any contrary view as evil); and (2) because such limitation ignores the relation between
traditional societies (in which a single conception of good is maintained by priests, imams, and "other experts in the will of God") and
liberal democratic societies which permit, or encourage, a plurality of conceptions of the good. So what is Hampshire's solution?
He starts from the premiss that not only is diversity of moral conviction natural to humanity but also that the habit of hearing evidence
and argument from two or more sides before settling a conflict is equally natural. And this too is a rational procedure. Moral enemies are
finally driven to come together to build political and legal institutions temporally acceptable to them all as arenas for fair negotiation,
because they know that the substance of political and social majority can never in proinciple be reduced to a few self-evident principles.
We cannot appeal to an ideal of justice to be enforced by 'philosopher-kings'. Political prudence, Hampshire argues, must expect a
perpetual contest between hostile conceptions of justice; what is generally thought substantially just and fair today will not be thought so
tomorrow. What matters is that both old and new claims can expect to be given a hearing. "The rock-bottom justice is in the contests
themselves, in the tension of open opposition, always renewed." And political prudence must develop acceptable procedures for
regulating them [d]. For the individual as well as for society compromise is "both the normal and the most desirable condition of the soul
for a creaure whose desires and emotions are often ambivalent and always in conflict with each other." This proposal, he says, inverts the
Protestant and Kantian moralities in that it puts the protection of just procedures in competition with the pursuit of substantial justice and
balances them. It is wrong to take individual morality to override public commitments (as is the case in the 'liberal' tradition), given
that moral conflicts are a permanent distinguishing feature of humanity and not a contingent and, in principle, alterable phenomenon [d].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
While showing the influence of the analytical philosophy of both Wittgenstein and Austin, Hampshire's philosophical writings are
characterized also by a more systematic approach, a refreshing openness to twentieth century 'continental' thought, and indeed by the
account taken of other disciplines such as aesthetics and psychoanalysis.
The distinction he makes between scientific explanation and 'understanding' (akin to the Verstehen of hermeneutic philosophers) of the
inner mental life of persons has not surprisingly been criticized by physicalist and functionalist philosophers of mind and by
methodologists who argue in favour of extending covering-law models to the human sciences. Other views of Hampshire, concerning (1)
persons as self-conscious intentional and autonomous agents albeit 'conditioned' by history; (2) introspective access by the 'recessive
'I' to one's own inner life and decision-making; and (3) the relationship between self-knowledge and freedom, and control of one's
dispositions, are also contentious and have been criticized by a variety of physicalist and extensionalist-orientated philosophers. But with
such positions Hampshire has made a major contribution to theories of agency and in the wider field of philosophical anthopology.
His liberal and pluralist views on ethics and political philosophy (which have much in common with those of his friend, Sir Isaiah
Berlin, and indeed of Ricoeur and Habermas) are meritorious for their emphasis on openness and the search for consensus and
reconciliation implicit in his appeal for the subordination of claims to moral supremacy to the demands of a common humanity and
the need for co-existence, and in his (and Berlin's) recognition that there are no utopian solutions, and that conflicts belong as much to
the essence of the human condition as does the search for rational procedures to minimise them. These claims may of course be
contested both by many thinkers who subscribe to various kinds of normative ethics (Kantian, Thomistic), by Marxists, or by
Enlightenment and positivist philosphers. Many people may also find them nave. But, in the last analysis, it is difficult to discern any
viable alternative other than force.
 RICOEUR
(1913 2005)

HERMENEUTIC PHENOMENOLOGY
Paul Ricoeur was born in Valence, France and studied at the Sorbonne. While a prisoner of war in Germany he studied Husserl,
Heidegger, and Jaspers about whom he later wrote a book with a fellow prisoner. From 1948-1956 he was a professor of the history
of philosophy at Strasbourg University. He occupied the chair of general philosophy at the Sorbonne from 1957 until 1966 when he
moved to the University of Paris X, Nanterre. Although he resigned in 1970 during student riots and went to the University of Louvain
he returned to Nanterre in 1973 and combined his teaching there with a professorship at the University of Chicago. He also became
Director of the Centre for Phenomenological and Hermeneutical Studies in Paris.

PHENOMENOLOGY/ HERMENEUTICS
[1] Ricoeur's first interest was in what he saw as a lacuna in phenomenology: its apparent inability to deal with the concept of the will
(reflecting no doubt Husserl's emphasis on the cognitive, perceptual consciousness in his analysis of intentionality). Ricoeur set out
[Freedom and Nature] to provide an account of the will without abandoning the phenomenological method which purported to describe
the 'essential' structures of consciousness. A key problem here proved to be the seeming opposition of the freedom of the will, which
underlies projects and motives, and those features of human nature, such as preformed character, the unconscious, passions, our 'history',
and indeed life and death themselves, which appear to condition, limit, constrict our willing. A 'common subjectivity' is the basis for
what his 'descriptive phenomenology' reveals as "the reciprocity of the involuntary and the voluntary" [a]. To understand the relations
between these aspects of our being we must, he says, "constantly reconquer the Cogito grasped in the first person from the natural
standpoint" [F & N, Introduction]. In other words, we must not think of the body as just an object; for this tends to divorce knowledge of
the involuntary from the Cogito and leads to its degradation through the loss of the two distinctive characteristics of consciousness: its
intentionality and its reference to an 'I' which lives in its experience. Instead we must think in terms of the body as a 'subject' or 'personal'
body, and existence as incarnated. But while the body and the involuntary can be discovered only in the context of the Cogito, this latter
continues to posit itself; and Ricoeur suggests that complete reconciliation, a final objectivity of understanding, requires more than
intellectual attention to structures: "It requires that I participate actively in my incarnation as a mystery. I need to pass from objectivity to
existence" [ibid.]. The intellect itself will give us only 'limit concepts' of God, motivated freedom, incarnate freedom, and a final 'utopia'
of freedom which reveals that the entire circle of limit concepts is focused around the idea of creative freedom. These limit concepts help
us only to understand "the condition of a will which is reciprocal with an involuntary". They are regulatory and not constitutive; they are
as "ideal essences which determine the limit degree of essences of consciousness". The ideal is a genuine Transcendence as
a presence which surpasses the subjectivity [b], the description of which characterizes the limit concepts. [See F & N, Conclusion.]
Ricoeur believed that this thesis raised two problems: (1) whether the human freedom and finitude or 'fallibility' could be dealt with
adequately within a phenomenological framework [see Fallible Man]; (2) the experience of human evil. Arguing that this latter problem
could not be treated satisfactorily by means of an analysis of phenomena, he embarked on a study of symbols 'primary' symbols such
as guilt and sin, and 'secondary' ones or myths, such as tragic blindness, the fall of the soul (which we encounter of course in Greek
classics and in the Christian doctrine). This gave rise to a hermeneutic of symbolism. [See Symbolism of Evil]. By 'symbols' Ricoeur says
he understands all expressions of double meaning, wherein a primary meaning refers beyond itself to a second meaning which is never
given directly. He sees psychoanalysis as the paradigm in this initial account of hermeneutics. In this context Ricoeur identified two
types of thinker in relation to their respective interpretive systems for analysing the 'deep' meanings and desires underlying symbols.
There are those (Marx, Nietzsche, and Freud) Ricoeur calls them 'masters of suspicion' who seek to destroy symbols on the
grounds that they present a false reality: these are the 'demystifiers'. The other type, including Gadamer and Ricoeur himself,
are 'demythologizers' in that they regard symbols as a window into a 'sacred reality' they are attempting to penetrate [see Freud and
Philosophy] [c].
[2] Ricoeur came to recognise [The Conflict of Interpretation; see also Hermeneutics and the Human Sciences, Pt. II] that there was a
certain 'lingual' or semantic feature common both to the symbols of his hermeneutics and the distorted expressions studied by
psychoanalysis. And here he encountered a new challenge from structuralism. [According to the structuralists, for example, de
Saussure though Ricoeur responded more particularly to Hjelmslev, language must exist in some sense prior to its instantiation in
individual speech-situations or, to use today's terminology, speech-acts. Language is regarded as possessing meaning in itself, as it were,
rather than as the intentional object of mental acts or of psychological 'contents'. This thesis is implicit in de Saussure's distinction
between 'langue' and 'parole'. 'Langue' refers to the total structure of 'signs', that is, meanings and words which parole, as a set of
individual speech-acts (be they English, Chinese, or any other language), instantiates. Furthermore de Saussure argued in favour of a
holistic approach to language. The meaning of a given word or term, considered as a 'sign', is to be understood relationally. When I say,
for example, that an object is red, this entails it is not green, blue, and so on. What is signified is not some underlying non-linguistic
'essence'. Signification consists rather in the role played by the written or spoken word in the total structure of system elements or
'signifiers'.] Now the convergence between the structuralist and psychoanalytic critique which Ricoeur saw as targeting his theory of
symbols and 'philosophy of the subject' he called the 'semiological challenge'. In response to this he worked out a new hermeneutics
which extended interpretation to all phenomena which could be regarded as in some sense textual. And he claimed he was able to show
that structuralism and hermeneutics are complementary approaches to the study of language, symbolism, and meaning [a]. While
structuralist analyses are concerned with categorizing phenomena and describing the ways they combine in closed systems, the
hermeneutic method can interpret descriptions by attributing to them specific roles or functions. The hermeneutic role thus becomes
meta-linguistic.
Throughout the 1970s Ricoeur was concerned to develop a theory of language to support this new hermeneutic philosophy, for which
purpose he drew on analytic philosophy. [See HHS, Pt II; also The Rule of Metaphor.] Of particular importance here are his distinction
between system and discourse the latter being understood in terms of a dialectic between event and meaning ; his work on metaphor
and narrative; his suggestion that action should be regarded as akin to a text [see sec. 5]; and his reworking of the initial debate between
hermeneutics and phenomenology. This enabled him to attempt to resolve the dichotomy between understanding and explanation
between the human sciences and the natural sciences. [HHS, Pt. III.] His starting point is his distinction between discourse and
dialogue. Discourse is closely related to interpretation, that is by language (before being interpretation of language) ['What is a text?'
in HHS, Pt II]. To understand interpretation he notes that the relationship of signs relate to objects gives rise to a new and 'open' relation
of 'interpretant' and 'sign' which can be grafted onto the former relation. This brings to light "a triangular relation of object-sign-
interpretant" which can serve as a model for another triangle constituted at the level of the statements comprising text. Discourse is
written text, dialogue spoken and heard [b]. Ricoeur says that discourse is detached from the circumstances which produced it the
speech acts, the intentions of the speaker have been left behind, the person addressed can be anyone, and there are no ostensive
references. In these respects it differs from dialogue. Ricoeur now argues that similar characteristics may be identified in actions in so far
as they can be detached from the agent and can be repeated leaving their marks or records in the world. Underlying these distinctions
is his view that as soon as objective meaning has been detached from the author's subjective intentions a multitude or 'plurivocity' of
possible interpretations is opened up interpretations which reveal the significance of an action or text as a function of the world-views
of both hearer/ reader/ observer and speaker/ author/ agent. Central to his attempt to reconcile explanation and understanding is Ricoeur's
notion of the 'hermeneutic arc'. The entire theory of hemeneutics, he says, "consists in mediating an interpretation-appropriation by the
series of interpretants which belong to the work of the text upon itself" [HHS, ch. 5]. This idea of interpretation as appropriation lies at
the extremity of the arc [c]. And he thinks it possible to situate explanation and interpretation along such an arc and thereby to integrate
these opposed attitudes within an overall conception of reading as the recovery of meaning. This brings about an integration of two
hermeneutical moves or directions from existential understanding to explanation and from explanation back to understanding.
In the first move guesses are made. This is similar to the forming of hypotheses based on analogies, metaphors, 'divination', and the like.
What these hypothetical guesses must accomplish is the provision of sense for terms and readings for texts, and the situation of parts and
wholes in classificatory schemes or hierarchies, thus allowing a range of interpretations. The guesses are subjectively validated by means
of rational argument comparable to the legal debate that takes place in court procedures. But this is not the same as empirical
verification. Guesses which do not admit of confirmability or which are self-confirmed (compare the problem of verification in, say,
Freudian, psychoanalysis) are eliminated in a manner comparable to the method of falsifiability the criteria in Ricoeur's methodology
being internal incoherence and relative implausibility.
As for the reverse move, Ricoeur makes a distinction between subjective and structuralist approaches in relation to what he sees as the
referential function of a text. The subjectivist approach involves a gradual construction of the world behind the text but presupposes the
'pre-understanding' of the interpreter which can never be fully transcended, though a kind of asymptotic approximation can be
achieved. The structuralist approach, on the other hand, suspends reference to the world behind the text and concentrates on identifying
and classifying the parts within the text and their interconnections [d]. Two levels can be identified here. (1) There is the nave surface
meaning (the narrative of the myth, for example). But (2) what understanding needs is a depth semantics. This is what the text (in the
wide sense) is 'about' as a non-ostensive reference and which passes beyond the author's intentions. For understanding to be achieved
requires an affinity between the reader and this aboutness, by means of which subjectivity and objectivity are intimately related. As
Ricoeur concludes, understanding is entirely mediated by the whole of the explanatory procedures which precede it and accompany it.
[3] Ricoeur's interest in hermeneutics led him to enter into the Gadamer-Habermas debate [see HHS, Pt I; see also the respective
Profiles]. His general thesis is that the critique of ideology and the hermeneutics of tradition are interdependent. And he thinks of the
conflict between Gadamer and Habermas in terms of the apparent opposition between understanding and explanation. Gadamer's view is
that this ontology of tradition our pre-understandings, prejudices, effective historical consciousness limits possible meanings.
Habermas, however, aspiring to the ideal finality of emancipation, argues that these constraints can be transcended. Now, understanding
involves mediation between the interpreter's immediate and emerging horizons, and this in turn requires the interpreter to 'distance'
himself from the text. According to Ricoeur this is to adopt a stance of critical self-understanding similar to that proposed in Habermas's
critique of ideology. At the same time he thinks that the critique of ideology cannot be separated from tradition. The ideals of
emancipation and undistorted communication go back beyond the Enlightenment to the Greeks, Hebrews, and to the New Testament.
Therefore there is no incompatibility between Gadamer and Habermas; indeed they complement each other, are mutually dependent.
Moreover, each becomes ideological when they are artificially separated [a]. Ricoeur's approach here illustrates his quest for a method
which will uncover the ontological structures of meaning and perhaps also succeed in giving an interpretation of a "type of being-in-the-
world unfolded in front of the text" [HHS, p. 141] (as against that which is behind the text, for example, hidden psychological
intentions).
[4] Underlying these attempts to resolve conflicting methods is Ricoeur's wider aim to achieve a general philosophical synthesis of
traditions; and central here is his approach to the relationship between hermeneutics and Husserlian phenomenology. [See HHS, Pt I, ch.
3.] Ricoeur follows Husserl in his claim to discover essences by means of his transcendental methodology, but he modifies the position
to take account of the critiques of Husserl by (the later) Heidegger and Gadamer, both of whom locate understanding ontologically in
language [a]. But as against Heidegger's (early) description of Dasein in terms of 'ready-to-handedness', its engagement with the world,
the realization of its practical projects, Ricoeur argues that the meaning of Dasein is to be uncovered by a hermeneutic theory of
interpretation [b]. The key notion here is that of 'distanciation' [ibid. chs. 3 & 4]. The eidetic, pre-linguistic data identified as a
consequence of bracketing and the transcendental reduction are thereby distanced, set off from the linguistic descriptions; and indeed
this distancing he regards as a precondition for any reference back to the existential structures of being-in-the-world. As he says, "the
reference of the linguistic order back to the structure of experience (which comes to language in the assertion) constitutes. the most
important phenomenological presupposition of hermeneutics" [ibid., p. 118]. It is only by application of a methodological hermeneutics
to an eidetic phenomenology that the Husserlian project of transcendental phenomenology can be realized. Husserl's epochic suspension
of the subject's concern for the life-world cannot of itself achieve objective knowledge. Ricoeur' aim therefore is to put an end to the
ideal and desire of the "subject's transparence to itself" ['On Interpretation', sec. 3; and see HHS, Pt I, ch. 3] [c].
Ricoeur's research into the linguistic and historical aspects of human understanding culminated in the 1980s with his publication of Time
and Narrative, in which he returned to his initial concern with subjectivity and human action but considered now in the context of his
ideas on narrative and the interpenetration of thought and symbol in culture [see also 'The Narrative Function' in HHS; 'On
Interpretation'; and further sec. 6]. But it is perhaps his most recent work, Oneself as Another generally regarded as his magnum
opus that his ideas receive their fullest synthesis and integration. These are presented in some detail in the following sections.

PHILOSOPHY OF MIND AND ACTION

[5] [Oneself as Another, Introd.] Ricoeur's aim is to develop a 'hermeneutics of the self'. His approach is generally 'epistemic', grounded
in the notion of 'attestation', but he also addresses the question of an ontology of the self in the final Study. He rejects both
'foundationalism', which characterizes the 'certainty' claimed by the Cartesian 'cogito' and similar accounts, and the kind of anti-
Cartesian, naturalistic or 'positivistic' 'shattering' of the mind or self proposed by Nietzsche [a]. Attestation of the self, as credence (albeit
without any guarantee) and trust in the power to say, to do, and to recognise oneself as a character in a narrative, is is equally distant
from the cogito and undermining by Nietzsche's philosophy of 'suspicion'. For Ricoeur the self is (i) essentially 'embodied' situated
both in its own body and in a cultural world and (ii) is an agent. Central to his thesis is a distinction between what he calls idem-
identity and ipse-identity, both of which are required for an adequate grasp of selfhood. By the former he means 'sameness', understood
in terms of spatio-temporal continuity, physical status, susceptibility of a causality of 'events'. Ipse-identity, however, relates to the self's
capacity to initiate novel action imputable uniquely to itself, and explicable in terms of 'intentional' causality.
[Study I] He accepts that 'person' is a primitive notion to which both physical and mental predicates are ascribed, and which is capable of
self-designation. But although he agrees with Strawson's rejection of "the dissociation of the person as a public entity and consciousness
as a private entity", he argues that in the "problematic of the identifying reference" the sameness of one's body (idem-identity) conceals
its selfhood (ipse-identity): the emphasis is on the 'What?' rather than on the 'Who?' [b]. Moreover, Ricoeur asks, how can sameness and
selfhood refer to the same entity? How can mental predicates be attributable in the same sense both to oneself and to others?
To develop an integrated theory of the self these questions are taken up [Study II] initially on the linguistic level, through an appeal to
the theory of speech-acts. Utterances are acts of speaking which designate a speaker reflexively and consistently with a referential
approach. "Language is included on the very plane of action." There can be no illocution without 'allocution'. Utterance therefore equates
with interlocution, as an exchange of intentionalities. Thus advances in the direction of selfhood go hand in hand with advances in the
otherness of the partner. However, while the pragmatic theory of speech-acts privileges the first and second persons and excludes the
third person (which is privileged in the referential approach), Ricoeur says it tends to emphasize the 'factuality' of utterance, as just an
event in the world, at the expense of overlooking its reflexive relation to selfhood [c]. As a result of paradoxes arising from, for example,
the ambiguity of 'I', we find a lack of coincidence between the 'I' as the world-limit and the proper name that designates a real person. So
what is needed is a "unique type of objectification" resulting from the interconnection of reflexivity of utterance (in which the subject is
both the speaker [1st person] and the one spoken to [2 nd person]) and an identifying reference (the person appearing as a basic irreducible
particular). He says that a proper treatment of the double allegiance of the 'lived body' as (i) an observable physical reality, one body
among others, and (ii) as the sphere of 'ownness', 'what is mine', will require us to move beyond the philosophy of language to the
semantics of action; the "ultimate aporia of the speaking subject" can be resolved only through an intersection of the semantic and
pragmatic paths.
[Study III] Ricoeur argues that the pair 'What?' 'Why?' have been "occulted" by analytic philosophy in so far as (i) the 'What?' itself has
been "captured" by the 'Why?', and (ii) the pair have been captured by an ontology of the impersonal event. He identifies three levels in
this process. (a) Although linguistic philosophers oppose actions to events (in the "What?') and motives/ reasons-for to causes (in the
'Why?'), through paradoxical assimilation the language game of action and reasons for acting have been "swallowed up" by that of
events and causality. (b) The interpretation of intention as 'intentionally' ('intention-with-which') does not testify to the self-
transcendence of a consciousness. The criterion of the intentional (hence the 'What?') is the form used by responses to the 'Why?'
which controls the 'What?' and hence leads away from the 'Who?'. Ricoeur advocates returning to 'intention-to' as an attestation of the
self. (c) Analytic philosophy has prioritized 'intention-with-which' which has thereby "effaced" the subject, teleological explanation by
reasons being subsumed within causal explanation. It has also developed an ontology of actions as anonymous events, which fails to
account for the imputation of actions to its agent and inhibits recognition of the ipse [d]. He will therefore reconsider [in Study IV] the
question of the relation of action to the agent a pragmatics of action with a view to reinstating the 'Who?'.
Following Aristotle, he firstly notes [sec. 1] (i) the action's dependence on a voluntary agent exercising preferential choice (proairesis),
and (ii) the importance of collaboration between our choices and nature, in forming our dispositions and thus our character [e]. Similarly,
for Strawson, physical and mental characteristics are said to 'belong to' or are 'possessed by' the person: 'ownness' governs the sense of
possessive adjectives. So in general, according to Ricoeur, ascription consists precisely in this reappropriation by the agent of his/ her
own deliberation. But we are still on the semantic level. The person remains a 'thing'; the theory of basic particulars is still captive to an
ontology not of events but of 'something in general' and which obscures recognition of ipseity [f].
When we move from this semantic framework into a pragmatics of discourse we encounter further difficulties or 'aporias' [sec. 2]. These
problems concern (i) the achieving of a self-designation which allows for a genuine other to whom attribution can be made; (ii) the
status of ascription in relation to description in so far as the former has an affinity to prescription applicable to self-designating agents
and actions in respect of imputable responsibility [see further sec. 8]; (iii) the problem of determining the 'power-to-act'.
With respect to the last, Ricoeur wants to show that this power-to-act is a primitive datum, demonstrable as the conclusion to a dialectic.
Such a dialectic must pass through a disjunctive stage and a conujnctive stage at the end of which the original causality of the agent
can be "coordinated synergistically" with other forms of causality. The primitive datum will then be recognised as 'initiative', that is, as
an intervention of the agent which effectively brings about changes in the world. To illustrate this he examines firstly Kant's antinomy
between causality in accordance with the laws of nature and the causality of freedom (similar to the oppositions between cause and
motive; Davidson's event agency and agent agency; and the polarity between ascription and description ( qua non-prescriptive).
Although Ricoeur sees this grasp of the human agent on things in the world only as a conjunction between different levels of
causality (anticipated tentatively by Aristotle's notion of sunaiton) nevertheless the systemic and teleological components of the
dialectic, although intertwined, remain distinct [g]. And the power-to-act is a primitive datum is something of which we are assured
and here Ricoeur's notion of attestation is brought to the fore. The passage from the disjunctive to the conjunctive level can now be seen
to bring to a reflective and critical level what was "precomprehended in this fundamental assurance". (The ontological relevance of this
primitive datum will be shown in his Study X.)
In Study V he examines the concept of personal identity [sec. 1]. Analytical theorists have concentrated on idem identity. Ricoeur
discusses this in terms of numerical and qualitative identity, supplemented by "uninterrupted continuity". These notions need to be
underpinned by the principle of permanence in time, but one which is not reducible to the determination of a substratum, that is, where
the 'Who?' is not reducible to a 'What?'. Ricoeur introduces two polar notions: (i) character, which expresses the mutual overlapping
of idem and ipse; and (ii) keeping one's word, which expresses self-constancy and marks the gap between the permanence of self and that
of the same (and attests to the mutual irreducibility of the two problematics). He notes that, whereas in previous writings he has
interpreted 'character' in terms of the "absolute involuntary", as opposed to the "relative involuntary of motives and powers" [see The
Voluntary and the Involuntary], or in terms of the non-coincidence between the finite and the infinite [see Fallible Man], he now argues
it is attested by the interpretation in terms of acquired dispositions, which allows the temporal dimension to be
'thematized'. The idem (the 'What?') overlaps with the ipse (the 'Who?'), and at the limit they are indiscernible. (The distinction, Ricoeur
says, is comparable to Heidegger's distinction between permanence of substance (Kant) and Selbst-Stndigkeit (self-subsistence or self-
constancy), which signifies "anticipatory resoluteness" in the face of death: an attitude which expresses a certain "existential
investment of the transcendentals of existence".) When the two kinds of identity cease to overlap and dissociate entirely we must attend
to 'keeping one's word'. This expresses a self-constancy which is inscribable solely in the dimension of 'Who?' [h].
In the light of his analysis Ricoeur examines several 'paradoxes' of identity. Locke's mental criterion of identity is a thesis which is
clearly undecidable given such factors as sleep and memory failure. And it is Hume's supposition of a continuous identity (sameness)
being superimposed on impressions through imagination and belief that gives rise to the paradox lying in his assertion that he always
stumbles on a perception but never catches himself. As Ricoeur says, "with the question 'Who?' the self returns just when the same slips
away". Lastly he looks at Parfit's impersonalist and reductionist account of personal identity (but notes that he does not seek to examine
the criteria). According to Parfit personal identity is not what matters. But Ricoeur argues that we cannot ask ourselves
about what matters if we could not ask to whom the thing matters or not. Parfit, he says, in failing to distinguish between selfhood and
sameness (or, rather, in aiming at the former through the latter), has overlooked the possibility that there are different types of ownership:
what I have and who I am [i].
[6] So far Ricoeur has confined himself to semantics and pragmatics. He has shown that the theory of action requires a new alliance
between the analytic tradition and that of phenomenology and hermeneutics. Following this propaedeutic to the question of selfhood he
explores the notion of narrative identity [see also Time and Narrative and 'The Narrative Function' in HHS], which he believes will carry
the dialectic of sameness and selfhood to a higher level. The theory of narrative will mediate between the descriptive and prescriptive
viewpoints in action provided the practical field is broadened beyond the semantics and pragmatics of action and operates within a
framework of ethics [see sec. 8]. This is because, for Ricoeur, there is no ethically neutral narrative. He notes that character has a history
and contains a narrative dimension. The mediation between the poles of sameness and character and 'constancy of the self' (evidenced in,
for example, making and keeping promises) is to be sought in the sphere of temporality which narrative identity comes to occupy . It
oscillates between a lower limit (when permanence expresses a confusion of idem and ipse) and an upper limit (where ipse poses the
question of identity without the assistance of idem). So in the next chapter [Study VI] he seeks (1) to carry to a higher level the dialectic
of sameness and selfhood implicit in the notion of narrative identity; and (2) to explore the mediation that narrative theory can perform
between action theory and moral theory. Ricoeur claims that through the application of narrative theory an identity of character will be
achieved which will articulate at a higher, conceptual level the 'preunderstanding' of the historical significance of a 'life-history' [a].
(1) (a) What does this narrative function involve? [In 'On Interpretation' he identifies three concerns: (i) to preserve the fullness,
diversity, and irreducibility of the various uses of language; (ii) to gather together the diverse forms and modes of the game of
storytelling; (iii) with a view to making the problematic of temporality and narrativity easier to work with, to test the selective and
organizational capacity of language itself when ordered into texts.] The central concept is that of 'emplotment', that is, the integrating of
diverse, discontinuous, unstable events with permanence-in-time. Identity on the level of emplotment is explained in terms of a
competition between a demand for 'concordance', that is, a principle of order that presides over the arrangment of facts, and the
admission of discordances 'reversals of fortune' that control the transformation of the plot from an initial to a terminal situation. The
art of composition which mediates between concordance and discordance he calls 'configuration' a creative, 'poetic' act ; and the
consequent 'discordant-concordance', which characterizes all narrative composition, he terms 'the synthesis of the heterogeneous'. This,
he hopes, will account for the diverse mediations performed by the plot: the temporal unity of a story, components of action such as
intentions, causes, chance occurrences); the sequence; and a pure succession and temporal unity. The diverse events thus synthesized are
then defined in terms of their participation in this unstable structure. (Ricoeur notes that this model is to be sharply distinguished from
the causal-type model in which events and occurrences are indiscernible.) It is the dynamic unity developed by the narrative operation
which reconciles identity and diversity and facilitates a resolution of the problem of personal identity . This is seen when we pass from
action to the performing character. Recounted action is emplotted and then transferred to the character, whereby its identity can be
preserved and understood. "Characters... are themselves plots." Through this narrative structure of action and character the aporias of
ascription [Study IV] are resolved. Responses to the 'Who?', 'What?', and 'Why?' form a chain in a story. (i) The attribution of mental
predicates to a person is reestablished in the narrative. (ii) The articulation between plot and character facilitates an (infinite) inquiry into
motives and a (finite, terminal) inquiry on the level of attribution the two inquiries being interwoven in the process of identification
(of plot and character). (iii) Kant's antinomy is also thereby resolved [b].
(1) (b) Ricoeur notes that the correlation between action and character results in a dialectic internal to character itself the temporal unity
of whose life can be threatened by the disruptive effects of unforeseeable events. "Chance is transmuted into fate." Identity can be
understood only in terms of this 'discordant-concordant' dialectic which must therefore be inscribed within the dialectic of sameness and
selfhood. And here he draws on the "imaginative variations" found in literature, for example, literary fictions involving loss of identity
(Ichlosigkeit) (as in the work of Robert Musil) and technological fictions which explore variations with regard to sameness, as in Parfit)
to demonstrate the mediating function dialectic. "Unsettling cases" of narrativity can be reinterpreted as exposing selfhood by taking
away the support of sameness.
(2) As for the second issue, if the relation between action and agent is to be translated to the level of narrative configuration on the scale
of an entire life, both it and the concept of action will have to be revised. Ricoeur proposes a hierarchy of composite units of praxis, each
containing its own principle of organization and integrating a variety of logical connections. Such units are either 'practices' or 'life-
plans'.
Practices (for example, in professions, arts, games) are linear-relations, action-chains (which do not provide a configurational unity), or
'nesting' relations, whose unit of configuration is based on a relation of meaning expressed by 'constitutive rules', such as illocutionary
force. [Searle] Implicit in the pragmatic framework are such concepts as otherness and the conduct of other agents. Through learning and
acquired competence of practices interaction itself becomes 'internalized'. Ricoeur notes that negative modes of omission or submission
are also data of interaction: "not acting is still acting", and "every agent has its patients". And he also says that the narrative operation
relates mimetically to action: practices have a 'pre-narrative' quality.
Life-plans are ideals and projects (Sartre's "existential project of each of us") through which human life apprehends itself in its oneness,
achieves a "narrative unity" [A. C. MacIntyre's phrase] which is necessary for an ethical perspective [c]. Such projects build on basic
actions and practices. (Ricoeur compares the relation between the two levels of complexification to the hermeneutic comprehension of a
text in terms of whole and part [cf. sec. 2] There are a number of difficulties in relating fiction to real life, but Ricoeur argues that
exceptions can be incorporated in a more subtle and dialectical comprehension of appropriation. As for the fact that literary narrative (as
mimetic praxis) is retrospective and has to be joined to anticipation and projects, the past of narration is only a 'quasi-past' of the
narrative voice, and still recounts care:
Narrative is part of life before being exited from life in writing: it returns to life along the multiple paths of appropriation.
Finally Ricoeur addresses the ethical implications of the narrative. The key issue is whether in the 'unsettling' cases narrative identity
(which mediates between character and self-constancy) undermines the ethical identity expressed in self-constancy (as in Musil's 'lack of
selfhood', or Parfit's "identity does not matter"). In the extreme situation, Ricoeur observes, the response to 'Who am I?' is indeed empty:
but we can assertourselves, as subjects of imputation, on the level of moral commitment "Here I am!" "I can act: you can rely on me".
"Thus the imagined nothingness of the self becomes the existential 'crisis' of the self." How this new dialectic between narrative identity
and moral identity can be resolved, and how the ethical self is to be maintained are matters to be discussed in Studies VII-IX [sec. 8].
[7] [Study X] The Ontology of the Self. What sort of being is the self? Ricoeur considers three questions arising from his hermeneutics
of the self. These concern: (1) general ontological commitment on the basis of attestation; (2) the ontological bearing of the distinction
between selfhood and sameness; (3) the special dialectical structure of the relation between selfhood and otherness (from which
primarily his ontological investigation will develop). He says we need to distinguish between Platonic metacategories (second order
discourse), to which the dialectic of selfhood and otherness belongs, and the categories or 'existentials', for example, persons and things,
which constitute first order discourse.
(1) Ontological Commitment and Attestation. In his Introduction to Oneself as Another Ricoeur considered attestation to be a response to
both the Cartesian cogito and Nietzsche's anti-cogito critique, grounded in the concept of 'suspicion'. But, he says, we need to go further
and define 'attestation' from the viewpoint of truth (aletheia). Hence the need for an ontological approach. Discussing Aristotle's
treatment of truth and falsity, he lists out a number of advantages but argues although language expresses being Aristotle is concerned
principally with apophantic logic, whereas for Ricoeur the being-true expressed by attestation concerns the self (through the objectifying
mediation of language, action, narrative, and ethical and moral predicates of action) [a]. Moreover, the concept of 'being-false' as
'suspicion' is not only the contrary of attestation but also the path towards and the crossing within it. In view of the perceived adherence
of suspicion with respect to attestation in his examination of personal and narrative identity, and of ethical conflict [see sec. 9], Ricoeur
says he must clarify the ultimate attestation of selfhood in the examination of the second and third questions.
(2) Selfhood and Ontology. Here Ricoeur connects his notion of the logical unity of human action to an ontology of act and power. He
starts by attempting to utilize Aristotle's distinction between power (dynamis) and activity (energeia). There are difficulties with this but
he suggests an ontology of selfhood can be constructed in terms of an actuality and potentiality constituted by the central character of
action and decentring in the direction of ground of being at once potentiality and actuality, against which human actions stand out [b].
Actions should therefore appear by turns as central and decentred, just as Aristotle's upwards-downwards decentring of energeia-
dynamis This concept of the Ground is then developed with reference to several Heideggerian concepts, in particular, conscience
(Gewissen) and care (Sorge). Ricoeur notes that before it designates the capacity for good and evil Gewissen signifies attestation
(Bezeugung); and he takes this to be the "gauge of primordiality" of his analysis, confirming his hypothesis that the distinction between
selfhood and sameness involves two modes of being. Ricoeur considers the correlation between his category of sameness and
Heidegger's notion of Vorhandenheit to be the same as that between selfhood and the mode of being of Dasein. The connection between
selfhood and Dasein occurs through the mediation of the notion of care. So Ricoeur interprets Heidegger's thesis as passing from the
assertion of Dasein's character of being in each case mine, through the existential question 'Who', the equating of Dasein with care, and
thence to the connection of care with selfhood. Care thus initially appears as the ground of Heidegger's philosophical anthropology
(before the notion of temporality carries his ontology beyond it).
Despite several problems with the Heideggerian concept, Ricoeur suggests Sorge could be equivalent to the 'analogical unity of action'.
So he discusses Sorge further, setting it back within the framework of Dasein. Only a being that is a self is in the world (unlike categories
of Vorhandenheit). Correlatively: the world which this being is in is not the sum of things composing the universe of subsisting things or
things ready-to-hand (zuhanden). The being of the self presupposes the totality of the world that is the horizon of its thinking, acting,
feeling its care. The question 'Who?' having been answered by the 'What?' and 'Why?', the being of the world can be understood as
the necessary correlate to the being of the self. Thus being-in-the-world is expressed in numerous ways; and it is together
that oneself, care, and being-in-the-world are to be determined [c].
In order to clarify these three terms Ricoeur goes on to examine a Heideggerian reappropriation of Aristotle's ontology (as undertaken by
several commentators). But this proves to be disappointing. Interpretations either distort Aristotle's intentions or attribute views to him
he did not hold explicitly, if at all. Not least, Ricoeur says, the difference between energeia and dunamis, and the primacy of the former
over the latter, is obscured. So he looks to Spinoza to provide another connection between the phenomenology of the acting and
suffering self and the actual and potential ground against which selfhood stands out. For Spinoza life means power, and power means not
potentiality but productivity. Productivity and actuality (realization) are not in opposition but are degrees of the power of existing. It
follows that the soul is the idea of an an individual, an actually existing thing; and that the power of animation is of general application
[prop. 13 schol]. Spinoza's notion of conatus is understood as the effort to persevere in being, or power of being, and constitutes the
unity of man and every individual entity [d]. Ricoeur notes (i) that in Spinoza's account there is a close connection between life's internal
dynamism and the power of the intelligence, which governs the passage from inadequate to adequate ideas; and (ii) that it is in man
that conatus is most clearly readable; and (iii) everything expresses to different degrees what Spinoza calls the life of God, the
primordial power, the essentia actuosa ('most active being') (towards which Ricoeur's discussion is directed). Spinoza, Ricoeur
concludes, is the only thinker who could articulate the conatus against the backdrop of this actual and powerful primordial being.

ETHICS AND POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY

[8] Ricoeur's views on ethics and political philosophy are set out variously in a number of books and articles but comprehensively
in Oneself and Another [Studies VII-IX], where, in the context of his analysis of selfhood, he examines the question 'Who is the subject
of moral imputation?' His aim is essentially to show that with his concept of practical wisdom we can reconcile
Aristotle's phronesis (practical wisdom as the power of good deliberation, which Ricoeur equates with 'moral judgement in situation'
see p. 290), by way of Kant's Moralitt ('abstract morality'), with Hegel's Sittlichkeit ('concrete ethical life', situated in a social context).
Central to his account is a distinction between ethics and morality. The former is a teleological concept concerned with the aim of an
"accomplished life", whereas the latter is a deontological concept which refers to the articulation of this aim in norms characterized by
the claim to universality and by an "effect of constraint". He will attempt to establish the primacy of the former over the latter [a]. On the
level of action the relevant predicates are respectively 'good' and 'obligatory'. On the level of self-designation 'self-esteem' corresponds to
the ethical aim, while self-respect corresponds to the "deontological moment". Self-esteem is more fundamental than self-respect
indeed the latter is the aspect in which self-esteem appears in the domain of norm; and that "aporias of duty" create situations in which
self-esteem appears as both the source and recourse for respect (when no norm offers guidance). These two notions therefore together
represent the most advanced stages of growth of unfolding selfhood. He notes also that his distinction between ethics and morality (and
their corresponding predicates) point to the inadequacy of Hume's objection that there is a logical gap between prescribing and
describing [b]. Action must be accessible to precepts; moral rules are inscribed within the larger circle of precepts, which are intimately
related to the practices they help to define; and narrative theory provides the transition between description and prescription. This can be
shown through the subordination of the deontological viewpoint (and self-respect) to the teleological one (and self-esteem).
(1) [Study VII] The Self and the Ethical Aim. Aiming at the 'Good Life', he follows Aristotle's notion of praxis, and in order to analyse
the ethical aim of 'living well' he emphasizes the close tie between practical wisdom and the phronimos the man of phronesis, who is
his guide. (Central here is the idea of 'internal goods', which constitute the teleology immanent to action. This provides initial support for
the "reflexive moment of self-esteem" and will be considered later within the normative conception of morality.) Phronesis is interpreted
not with reference to a means and ends model but in terms of a hermeneutic moving back and forth between ideals and an assessment of
the advantages and disadvantages of a life on the level of practice. The specific function (ergon) of man is then to his whole life as the
standard of excellence is to a particular practice. The notion of a higher finality which never ceases to be internal to human action is thus
a horizon or limiting idea [c]. Through this hermeneutic applied to action and oneself we search for the best in our choices and with
regard to our whole life, and thereby enrich our concept of self: on the ethical plane self-interpretation becomes self-esteeem; and in the
exercise of practical judgements open to attestation self-esteem will follow the fate of interpretation.
(2) Self-esteem is not to be understood as a crude self-centredness. Rather the self is worthy of esteem because of its capacity to evaluate
and assess as good some of its actions and itself. To understand this we must extend the physical 'I can' to the ethical plane. This requires
the 'Other' as the mediator between the self's capacities and their realization [d]. Ricoeur here builds on Aristotle's discussion
of friendship (philautia) as the transition between the aim of the good life (leading to self-esteem as the ' solitary' virtue) and justice (the
virtue of human plurality in the political sphere). Ricoeur comments that Aristotle's implicit appeal to 'otherness' helps him to avoid
crude egotism. Friendship is a mutual relation of reciprocity, aiming at a shared life [e]. A friend is "another self". As Aristotle says, each
loves the other as being the man he is and not for utility or pleasure [8.3 1156, 18-19]. This becomes central to Ricoeur's notion
of solicitude ("benevolent spontaneity"), which is intimately related to self-esteem within the framework of the aim of the 'good life'. As
expressed through friendship it seems to constitute a balance in which giving and receiving are equal and avoids the extremes in which
either the Other or the Self predominates in the initiative of exchange. In the former case the self is subject to a (moral) normative
summons or injunction, while in the latter the other is the 'sufferer', reduced to the sole condition of receiving. But grounded in solicitude
"receiving is on an equal footing with the summons to responsibility, in the guise of the self's recognition of the authority enjoining it to
act in accordance with justice". Ricoeur notes also the role played in solicitude by feelings or affects, for these are revealed in the self
both by the other's suffering and moral injunction. All these elements are identifiable in the notion of Aristotle's 'each other', which
makes friendship mutual. Ultimately esteem of the other as a oneself and esteem of oneself as another are seen to become paradoxically
equivalent [f].
(3) The notion of the other, which for Ricoeur is central to one's aim of living well, invokes the idea of justice; and this extends to
institutions and requires equality. By institution Ricoeur means a historical community or living together characterized by ethos or
common mores rather than constraining rules related to judicial systems and political organizations. Following Arendt, he contrasts
'power-in-common' with 'domination'. Power stems from action, and although it receives its temporal dimension from the institution it is
irreducible to the state on account of the conditions of plurality and 'action in concert' (people wanting to live together). Because of
domination power is generally invisible, but it is through power that the ethical aim invokes justice.
Ricoeur says the just points to both the good (thereby marking the extension of impersonal relationships to institutions), and the
the legal the judicial system conferring upon the law coherence and the right to constraints. But he confines himself to the former
aspect (which is wider and closer to the popular sense of 'justice'). Again he follows Aristotle in so far as distributive justice is placed in
the field of virtues and enclosed in the 'mean'. Distribution in a wide sense is for Ricoeur a key concept in that it rejects two views of
society: (i) methodological individualism [Weber], and (ii) an organicist or collectivist view that it is more than the sum of its
members [Durkheim]. The conception of society as a system of distribution transcends both positions [g]. The significance of the
institution lies here as part of Ricoeur's 'ethical aim'. Although equality is the ethical core common to distributive and corrective
('reparative') justice, Ricoeur needs to confirm the connection between them without invoking egalitarianism. Equality, for him, is to life
in institutions as solicitude is to interpersonal relations [h]. The role of justice (i) presupposes solicitude, (ii) adds to it in that the field of
application of equality is all humanity.
[9] [gen. 9] [Study VIII] Self and the Moral Norm. Ricoeur now intends to show that 'ethical aim' must be subjected to the test of the
norm if conflicts provoked by 'formalism' and the exercise of moral judgement are to lead back to an "enriched ethics". There are three
stages in his argument.
(1) Good Life and Obligation. Arguing that 'universality' is central and that there is a continuity between the teleological and
deontological traditions, he looks at the contributions of both Aristotle and Kant.
Aristotle's criterion, the 'middle term' (mesotes), common to all virtues, marks the beginning of universality and a move from teleology
to deontology. Human 'capacities' are implicitly given a universal sense in that it is by virtue of them that we hold them and ourselves to
be worthy of self-esteem. Likewise the "in each case" we recognise in Heidegger's 'mineness' (Jemeinigkeit) denotes the universal
feature by which we can writedas Dasein, das Selbst. However, Ricoeur says, the universality of the two 'existentialia', the ipse and
the idem allows us to distinguish them and say in what way the 'who?' is worthy of self-esteem.
As for Kant, his identification of a 'good will' with 'good without qualification' (the meaning of morally good, says Ricoeur) preserves a
continuity between his deontology and the teleological perspective. The finite will, as that which receives the teleological predicate
'good', takes the place of Aristotle's rational desire. Desire is recognised through its aim (teleological), will through its relation to law
(deontological). The notions of 'good will' and 'action done out of duty' (to which universality is tied) are virtually mutually substitutable.
So what is good without qualification will equate with the self-legislating will, as autonomous practical reason. Kant's opposition
between autonomy and heteronomy thus appears as constitutive of moral selfhood.
Ricoeur ends stage (1) of Study VIII by drawing attention to three potential 'aporias', concerning autonomy, to be found in Kant's own
writings, and which point up the gap between the deontological moral norm and the teleological ethical aim. These concern the relation
of law to freedom; the problem of respect (Ricoeur distinguishes between legitimate respect as self-esteem tested by the criterion of
universalization and a 'perverted' respect self-esteem as the kind of self-love evident in the capacity for evil); and the problem of evil
itself. All these raise the question whether the principle of autonomy, free choice, is genuinely independent. Given the problems of evil
and the equally inscrutable constitution of free will, it follows that there is a necessity for ethics to assume the features of morality. The
ethical aim must therefore be submitted to the test of the moral norm [a].
(2) Solicitude and the Norm. Ricoeur's primary concern in this second area is to show that the moral norm of respect (as relating to
autonomy) is intimately connected to the "dialogic structure" of the ethical, that is, to solicitude (as relating to the 'good life'). This is
implicit in Kant's move from the general formulation of the Categorical Imperative to the notion of the person as end in himself. The
Golden Rule [cf. Aristotle's endoxa common beliefs] is seen as an appropriate transitional formula. The positive formulation (as in
"Love your neighbour as yourself") shows more clearly the connection between solicitude and the norm; while the negative formulation
("Do not do unto your neighbour what you would hate him to do to you") is better to exhibit the norm of reciprocity structured in various
statements of the Rule.
This required reciprocity is understood against the background of a disymmetry between agent and patient (who submits, suffers), which
finds its ultimate expression in 'power-over' (contrasted with 'power-to-do' and 'power-in-common') and physical or even verbal violence.
(The need for the Golden Rule's prohibition of the evil established by solicitude is admitted by moral philosophy as it accepts the
primacy of the ethical.)
As for Kant, in the context of solicitude his second imperative nevertheless reveals a tension between 'humanity' (a singular term
introduced in the context of an abstract universality governing the principle of autonomy without any consideration of persons) and
'person as an end'. This latter requires account to be taken of plurality. However, his notion of plurality is restricted. He gives priority to
'humanity' and because of his formalization this notion only mediates between diversity of persons and thereby tends to eliminate
otherness. His 'plurality' is understood only in terms of 'power-over'. In fact, argues Ricoeur, the notion of person as an end in himself
balances that of 'humanity' [b] and introduces in the formulation of the imperative the distinction between 'your person' and 'the person
of anyone else' and leads to a genuine 'otherness' which will allow the second formulation of the Categorical Imperative to reassume its
original character. This, however, is hidden in Kant's account.
(3) Ricoeur now returns to the concept of justice. Central is the concept of distribution (implicit in Aristotle's distributive justice), which
he says is placed at the point of intersection of the ethical aim and the deontological perspective. But this concept is ambiguous, as in the
idea of the just share, our interpretation of which depends on whether we emphasize separation or cooperation; and in the distinction
between arithmetical and proportional equality [c]. Attempts have been made to remove these ambiguities by applying a normative
formalization and therefore a purely deontological interpretation of justice. Ricoeur is critical of attempts to remove teleological
considerations (which originated with the Kantian imperative). A purely procedural conception of justice, he says, provides at best the
formulation of a sense of justice that it never ceases to presuppose. In particular he rejects the utilization of the contractualist tradition by
means of which the deontological approach has gained a foothold in the institutional domain. Attempts to ground the contract are
unsuccessful. Rousseau appeals to a 'lawmaker'; Kant's theory presupposes a tie between the social contract and autonomy but does not
justify it. Rawls's theory likewise fails. In his anti-teleological account (central to which is the concept of fairness), directed against
utilitarianism, contractualism and individualism combine. His view is that the least well off, potential victims of distribution, should be
treated not as a means but as an end. But his argument, says Ricoeur, seeks to shift the question of foundation to one of mutual consent.
This is a deontology without a transcendental foundation, because it is the function of the social contract to derive the contents of the
principle of justice from a fair procedure without an appeal to allegedly objective criteria or presuppositions concerning the good. The
contract, he argues, is found to occupy on the plane of institutions the place that autonomy claims on the fundamental plane of morality.
But whereas autonomy is a "fact of reason", as Kant puts it, the social contract can derive its legitimacy only from a 'fiction' it is non-
historical [d]. Perhaps people have forgotten that they are sovereign by virtue of their will to live together. And consequently there is the
risk that the principle of autonomy may also be found to be a fiction as compensation for forgetting the foundation of deontology in the
desire to live well and for others in just institutions.
[10] [Study IX] The Self and Practical Wisdom: Conviction. Ricoeur has shown that because a morality of obligation has produced
conflicts practical wisdom has to return to the initial intuition of ethics to the vision of the 'good life' with and for others in just
institutions but in the framework of "moral judgement in situation", which together with its inherent 'conviction' constitute practical
wisdom. The morality of obligation is not rejected. Indeed it is essential to test illusions about ourselves and the meaning of our
inclinations (which may obscure the good life). And without the conflicts produced by formalism moral judgment in situation would fall
prey to the arbitrariness of 'situation ethics' [a].
Ricoeur argues that the Greek concept of tragedy [especially in Antigone], although 'non-philosophical', can teach us the inevitability of
conflict in so far as it relates to spiritual powers and mystic energies . The transition from catharsis to conviction consists in a meditation
on the inevitable place of conflict in moral life. Tragedy also outlines a 'wisdom' [touches on "the agonistic ground of human experience"
Georg Steiner's phrase] which takes practical wisdom back to the test of moral judgement in situation alone. The final appeal is to to
phronein; and Ricoeur argues that it is the passage from tragic phronein to practicalphronesis that can shelter moral conviction from
univocity or arbitrariness [b].
What makes ethical conflicts inevitable? Ricoeur's answer is that their source lies not only in the one-sidedness of the characters in
tragedy but also in the one-sidedness of moral principles in life's complex situations. And it is only through recourse to the 'ethical
ground' against which morality stands out can give rise to the wisdom of judgement in situation. He examines conflict in relation to three
areas: (1) Institution; (2) Respect; (3) Autonomy.
(1) Rawls's thesis is inadequate. Genuine conflict, Ricoeur says, arises from the diversity of distributed goods rather than from Rawls's
equivocal treatment of distribution procedures [c]. The idea of primary social goods which connects the teleological concepts of the
just and the good advantageously breaks up the unitary principle of justice to the benefit of the idea of 'spheres of justice' (rules,
rights, security, etc.). It is the arbitration required by competition and dominance among these spheres that gives meaning to the notion
of social conflict. [The conflict between the universalist claim and the contextualist limits of the rule of justice engendered by the
historicity and culturally determined character of the estimation of these goods will be looked at under (3).]
Ricoeur is more sympathetic towards Hegel's project not least because on the level of institutions it reinforces claims against political
atomism [see sec. 8, Study VII]: human action can flourish only in the institutional milieu. However, Hegel's phenomenology of the
'concrete ethical life' (Sittlichkeit), which he opposes to Moralitt, must be dissociated from the ontology of Geist [d]. Ricoeur is here
critical of the notion of a spirituality distinct from individuals and grounded in the idea of a state as a superior agency supposedly
endowed with self-knowledge. To demystify the Hegelian State and thereby free its resources on the level of political philosophy he
questions political practice itself and examines the specific forms tragedy of action adopted there. Why political practice is the place of
specific conflicts and how these relate to the ethical concept of justice is explained in terms of the distinction between power ( potentia)
and domination (potestas) [see sec. 8]. These notions are balanced by Aristotle's 'justice' as equality (isotes): it places the latter under the
control of power-in-common, and thereby defines democracy. Ricoeur proceeds to discuss three levels of conflicts arising between the
governing and the governed in relation to the distribution of potestas, and between rival groups in the distribution of political power.
These concern deliberation concerning priorities to be established among primary goods; the ends of 'good' government'; and the
legitimation of democracy. In all cases Ricoeur perceived the necessity to 'bend' Sittlichkeit towards, or equate it with phronesis [e].
(2) Conflict in the area of respect is discussed with reference to Kant's imperative. Ricoeur's concern here is the conflict between the
universalist version (representing the idea of humanity) and the pluralist version (representing the idea of persons in themselves).
Although for Kant there is no opposition Ricoeur says that the otherness inherent in the idea of human plurality in special circumstances
proves to be incompatible with the universality of the rules that underlie humanity [f]. Respect tends to split into respect for law or rule
and respect for persons. Practical wisdom may then give priority to the latter, in the name of solicitude (addressed to persons in their
singularity). It is because of the multiplicity of rules generated by the Categorical Imperative that their presumed universalism collides
with the demands of otherness inherent in solicitude. How then are maxims tested? We can subsume them under rules or we can attempt
to apply them to concrete situations. Kant, says Ricoeur, allows only the former route; and this approach is limited in that it is only the
latter in which the demands of otherness are recognised. Ricoeur shows this by an analysis of the making of false promises with
reference to the tests of concrete circumstances and consequences. We respond to the expectations of the other by committing ourselves
to the obligation to keep our promises (the 'principle of fidelity' which Ricoeur equates with the rule of justice); and this expectation
is taken as the measure for applying the rule. Exceptions in my favour may then give way to exceptions on behalf of others. Practical
wisdom consists in conduct that will best satisfy the exception required by solicitude, by betraying the rule to the smallest extent. This is
illustrated in moral conflicts associated with, for example, telling the truth to the dying and the right to life of the embryo. To deal with
these problems practical wisdom should exhibit prudence (adverse positions should call on the same principle of respect); the search for
a "just mean"; and attention to the counsel of "the most competent and wise" (this will make moral judgement less arbitrary) [g].
(3) Ricoeur now returns to an affirmation of autonomy and addresses the confrontation between the universalist claim (attached to rules)
and the positive values of historical and communitarian contexts in which these rules can be realized. This will require a revision of
Kant's formalism.
1. He questions the order of priority Kant gives to the principle of respect applied to the plurality of persons and to the principle of
justice relevant to the plane of institutions. He will show that autonomy cannot be self-sufficient in that it is is "of a piece" with the rule
of justice and the rule of reciprocity. The opposition between autonomy and heteronomy must therefore be reworked. Dependent
autonomy must be understood not as 'tutelage' (when one's judgement is guided and dependent on that of others) but in terms of a
threefold otherness as the other of freedom in the figure of law (which freedom gives itself), in the figure of respect, and the other of
evil in the figure of the penchant towards evil. It is the heteronomy of the "master of justice", facing the disciple (as against the master as
dominator facing the slave) that has to be integrated into autonomy.
2. Kant's criterion of universality involves internal contradiction. Rather, says Ricoeur, a more constructive conception of coherence is
offered by judicial reasoning (exemplified in/ epitomized by flexible common law). But it remains that it is the plea for universality that
gives full weight to the problems tied to the historicity of concrete morality,
3. Lastly in order to make tragic action appear in the wake of the requirement of universality (identified with the moment of morality)
Ricoeur utilizes the reconstruction of formalism through a "morality of communication" (developed by Apel and Habermas), which
merges the three Kantian imperatives into a single problematic: the principle of autonomy (which follows the category of unity), that of
respect (the category of multiplicity), and the principle of kingdom of ends (category of totality). The Self is thus grounded both in its
dimension of universality and its dialogic dimension interpersonal as well as institutional [h]. This undertaking is authorized, Ricoeur
says, if it remains on the 'regressive path' of justification, thereby leaving uncovered the conflictual zone situated along the path
of actualization. But justification does not commit us to an 'ultimate foundation':
If indeed we admit with Habermas himself that the "moral intuitions of everyday life are not in need of clarification by the philosopher"
and that the foundational enterprise has, in the final analysis, only a therapeutic function, in the sense of Wittgenstein, with regard to
skeptical counterarguments set up as "professional ideologies" then the ethics of discussion will not simply involve an attempt to
found the requirements of universalization along a regressive path but will also involve an examination along a progressive path on the
level of actual practice [p. 283].
Ricoeur recognises (a) the tie between normative expectations and communicative action, (b) the tie between normative expectations and
validation by reasons. What is important lies in the transformation undergone by the requirement of coherence, following its connection
to a theory of argumentation (reducible neither to deductive reasoning nor to empirical proof). Ricoeur notes that Habermas's logic of
practical discourse holds the same place here as that held by his analysis of coherence in moral systems, but whereas his own analysis
was conducted without concern for the dialogic dimension of the principle of morality, Habermas's theory of argumentation unfolds
entirely within the framework of communicative action. However, Ricoeur is not uncritical of the "ethics of argumentation". Just as Kant
directed his "strategy of purification" against inclination, so does Habermas direct his against convention and tradition. The result is that
the ethics of argumentation contributes to the impasse of a "sterile opposition" between a universalism as procedural as Rawls's and a
'cultural' relativism that places itself beyond discussion. What is needed is a reformulation of the ethics of argumentation that will allow
it to integrate the objections of contextualism while allowing it to take seriously the requirement of universalization so as to focus on the
conditions for placing this requirement in context. (For this reason Ricoeur prefers the term 'contextualism' to 'historicism' or
'communitarianism'.) He utilizes Rawls's notion of 'reflective equilibrium' between the ethics of argumentation and considered
convictions, where the articulations we continually reinforce between deontology and teleology find their highest expression . As an
example of this dialectic Ricoeur refers to discussions concerning human rights, where one must accept both the universal claim attached
to a few values where the universal and the historical intersect and submit this claim to discussion on the level of the convictions
incorporated in concrete forms of life. Through recognition of potential universals in other cultures a consensus can emerge [i].
The notion of universals in context or of potential or inchoate universals is, in my opinion, the notion that best accounts for the reflective
equilibrium we are seeking between universality and historicity. Only a real discussion, in which convictions are permitted to be
elevated above convention, will be able to state, at the end of a long history yet to come, which alleged universals will become
universals recognized by "all the persons concerned" (Habermas), that is, by the "representative persons" (Rawls) of all cultures [pp.
289-90].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Ricoeur is notable for the originality and breadth of his thought (comprehending theology, literary and critical theory, as well as
hermeneutics and general philosophy), and his utilization of insights drawn from structuralism, analytic philosophy, existentialism, and
phenomenology. The key feature of his philosophy is his extension of hermeneutics from the 'text' to embrace the totality of human
existence. Indeed he may be said to have attempted to 'textualize' human action analogically. Characteristic also is his eclecticism and
tendency to synthesize. He sets out to reconcile dialectically, for example, explanation and understanding, and to mediate between
Gadamer and Habermas in their approaches to truth and rationality.
Various criticisms can be made of his bold enterprise (not least by those commentators most sympathetic to his work).
(1) It has been argued that conceptualization of action as a 'text' "rests upon an illegitimate extrapolation from language and results in an
undesirable reification of action" [Thompson, p. 215].
(2) The methodology Ricoeur employs to deal with the social conditions of action has also been criticized [Thompson, p. 216]. In its
explanatory aspect it has been held to be unsuitable for the task; while in its critical aspect it has been said to lack a firm basis for
critique.
(3) While Ricoeur sets out to avoid what he perceives as the subjectivity associated with Verstehen in interpretation of texts, it can be
argued that in seeking the objective he underplays, even dismisses the role of authors' intentions and thereby as interpreter falls back
himself into a subjective mode. Moreover, his 'hermeneutics of suspicion', which claims to uncover the 'reality' (the world, including the
'self' "in front of the text") fails to close the 'hermeneutic circle' in relation to both science and art he leaves the text 'open'. Ricoeur's
position is that "the conflict of interpretations is insurmountable and inescapable", because "absolute knowledge is impossible"
[Hermeneutics and the Human Sciences, p. 193]. However, it is objected that no criteria are specified which might facilitate a resolution
of conflicting interpretations and bring about partial knowledge.
(4) Although it would probably be generally accepted that Ricoeur's account of selfhood represents a brave attempt to reconcile
constancy and change it can also be argued that it does not go far enough, and that ipseity and the idem self continue in opposition. A full
integration of intentional causality and 'material' causality would seem to require the adoption of a new approach to the concept of cause
one from which both forms of causality are ultimately derivable. Ricoeur appeals to such key notions as attestation and moral
imputability. However, while these may be pragmatically necessary for the sustainng of a sense of selfhood and for inter-personal
relationships, they of themselves do not resolve the dichotomy between the ipse self and the idem self: the 'gap' (see Searle ) remains.
(5) As for his ethics and political philosophy, he will be applauded by philosophers who are suspicious of ultimate objective norms and
for whom a diversity of moral positions is a necessary concomitant of the human condition. Ricoeur's advocacy of consensus ethics,
following his ambitious attempt to reconcile Aristotle's phronesis, by way of Kant's Moralitt, with Hegel's Sittlichkeit, would likewise be
welcomed. At the same time, it might be questioned whether his (non-formalistic) notion of a moral norm against which conflicts are to
be tested has not become so fluid as to be virtually redundant. Universality seems in the last analysis to be defined in terms of consensual
agreement. This is not of course an argument against a transcendental pragmatic approach, but for many commentators who espouse
various forms of objectivist ethics such a position will be seen as untenable.
(6) Finally, as a general criticism, it might be said that Ricoeur's almost obsessive concern to reconcile and integrate all manner and
kinds of positions in diverse fields of philosophy, which some readers will regard as his strength, will be considered by others as his
weakness, in that firstly, not all philosophical claims have to be deemed as containing an element of 'truth' (whatever that might mean),
and secondly that opposing theses often resist reconciliation however hard one might try to achieve it whether one's dialectic is
Hegelian or Ricoeurian.

DAVIDSON
(1917 2003)

ANALYTIC PHILOSOPHY
Donald Davidson was born in Springfield, Massachusetts. He was educated at Harvard University, where he studied literature and
classics and then, as a graduate student, philosophy under Quine. He has been Professor of Philosophy at Princeton and latterly at the
University of California, Berkeley.

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE AND LOGIC

[1] [See especially 'Truth and Meaning' and 'The Method of Truth in Metaphysics'.] A major concern of Davidson's is to develop an
adequate theory of meaning. Such a theory, he says, must show how the meanings of words contribute to the meanings of sentences of a
natural language, and must explain how speakers can produce and understand sentences they have never heard before (he calls this
'semantic productivity'). The theory must also be empirically testable. In general the theory must produce all sentences of the form 'S
means m', where 'S' is a description of the sentence, and reveals its structure, and 'm' denotes the meaning. What can it tell us to say that
S means a meaning? To reformulate this as 'S means that p', where 'p' is the sentence described by 'S' is equally unhelpful. Following
Tarski's semantic theory of truth, Davidson therefore proposes a truth theory of meaning, that is, he seeks to show that truth is the central
concept in the theory of meaning [a]. He argues that the theory that assigns meaning must be extensional, that is, it must allow for
expressions which have the same reference (for example, singular terms which denote the same entity, sentences which have the same
truth-value) to be substitutable for each other without changing the truth-value of the totality. These are to be contrasted with intensional
expressions, such as 'necessarily' and 'X believes that...'. An intensional theory, he says, would lead to difficulties, as in the case, for
example, when an attempt is made to infer from 'X believes that p' to 'X believes that q', given that 'p' and 'q' have the same truth-value.
The fact that I believe that Venus is the morning star does not license me to believe that Venus is the evening star (although 'morning star'
and 'evening star' do in fact denote one and the same entity). An approach to meaning, which itself involves intensional notions, is thus
likely to be more satisfactorily dealt with in terms of an extensional account of 'truth' in terms of reference [b].
So what would such a theory of meaning be like? We need a criterion of success, a 'condition of adequacy' for the theory, which can
generate for every sentence of the language a formula of the form 'S is T if and only if p' (where 'S' stands for the sentence, T stands for
an arbitrary predicate, and 'p' states what must be the case if S is to be used correctly). Davidson says that any predicate which satisfies
this condition must be a materially adequate truth-predicate, and this allows his theory of meaning to provide a definition for such a
predicate. The formula can then be reformulated as 'S is true if and only if p' 'S' being the name of 'p' and 'p' giving the truth
conditions of S. The meaning of the sentence is thus in effect given by its truth conditions. All sentences in the language of the form "
'Snow is white' is true if and only if snow is white" can now be generated. However, Davidson makes it clear that his theory provides
only a test or criterion of adequacy; he is not attempting to define 'meaning' in terms of 'truth'. The meaning of the sentence is given in
terms of what the sentence states [c]. It is discovered by supposing that there is a constancy in the speaker's beliefs (he calls this the
'principle of charity').
Underlying Davidson's general approach is a commitment to 'objective truth'; and he is particularly concerned to reject any kind of
conceptual relativism [see 'The Very Idea of a Conceptual Scheme'] [d]. As he says ['The Method of Truth'], "In sharing a language, in
whatever sense this is required for communication, we share a picture of the world that must, in its large features, be true". There can be
no 'theory-free' foundation for experience a position which would allow a variety of permissible theories. Rather belief, he says, is
causally connected with experience. And he rejects the 'sceptical' empiricist critique of claims to direct knowledge of the world and the
preservation of a gap between our linguistic schemes and 'reality' [e]. He supposes further that it is the language as a whole which is the
basic unit of interpretation. This is the doctrine of holism [f]. And to investigate these notions of objectivism and holism and the
associated metaphysical issues concerning our linguistic schemes and their relation to the 'real' world he utilizes formal languages (or
'canonical notations'), which he sees as devices for exploring the structure of natural languages (rather than to 'improve' them) ['The
Method of Truth in Metaphysics] [g], and which he has employed to construct his truth theory of meaning.

PHILOSOPHY OF MIND
ANOMALOUS MONISM
[2] [See especially 'Causal Relations', 'Mental Events', and 'Psychology as Philosophy'.] According to Davidson the 'particulars' of causes
and effects are events, with a specialized location in space and time. They can be described in a variety of ways in the form of statements
of causation. Only some of these statements, however, are causal explanations, that is, generally those which make use of descriptions
which show cause and effect to instantiate a strict law [a].
He distinguishes between mental events and physical events. The physical realm is a closed system, but the mental is open. Different
kinds of constitutive principles operate in each case. Thus rationality is appropriate to the mental realm. Reasons, intentions, coherence
in attitudes and actions, for example, are prerequisites for people to be treated as persons. Physical events, on the other hand, are
constrained by quite different constitutive elements, such as strict deterministic laws. Davidson therefore concludes that there cannot be
strict psychophysical 'bridging' laws correlating the mental and the physical; and he also rules out reductive analyses of mental terms to
physical ones. Nevertheless he wants to maintain that mental events are also causes and effects and therefore are subject to laws. So they
must be covered by physical descriptions, because there are no psychophysical laws. When there is a causal connection between the
mental and physical realms the mental event must be supposed to be a physical event. This theory is therefore materialist but non-
reductive [b]. Purely psychological laws, he thinks, are improbable. Davidson argues further that although a causal analysis of the
conditions of intentional actions may not be possible, freedom to act can still be regarded as a causal power of the agent. [See 'Freedom
to Act'.] As for weakness of will, he attributes this to irrationality [c]. We perceive a creature as rational, he says, in so far as we are able
to view his movements as part of a rational pattern comprising also thoughts, desires, emotions, and volitions. But if we want to account
for the fact that an agent does an action a when he believes it would be better to do another thing, we can only say that he has no reason.
He has a reason for doing a, but what he lacks is a reason for not letting his better reason for not doing a prevail. [See 'How is Weakness
of the Will Possible?'].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Davidson is important largely for his contributions to the theory of meaning and truth and his account of causation, action and mind.
(1) Meaning and truth. He aims to develop a criterion of adequacy for meaning in a natural language, which is based on Tarski's
semantic theory of truth. He is not attempting to define either truth or meaning. But even his limited aims have been criticized on the
grounds that natural languages are not fully amenable to a comprehensive treatment by the techniques of formal logic. Moreover, it is
argued that an extensional treatment of meaning (in terms of observational truth-conditions) is inadequate in so far as it presupposes that
the circumstances in which a supposedly truthful speaker of the language assents or dissents from its sentences can be identified by the
interpreter. Indeed, his approach to the holistic interpretation or translation of language, while appropriate for 'truth', is mistaken in that it
belongs to his theory of meaning rather than being a consequence of it.
(2) Philosophy of mind. For Davidson events are the basic particulars. Explanations of actions in terms of mental events (beliefs,
reasons, desires) are not causal; they conform to normative rationality but as such still require to be brought under laws. As there are no
psychological laws mental events must admit of physical but non-reductive counterpart descriptions. It is a current concern of many
philosophers whether Davidson's 'anomaly' is sustainable and indeed whether it is genuinely 'monistic'.
 STRAWSON
(1919 2006)

ANALYTICAL PHILOSOPHY
Sir Peter Strawson was born in London and educated at Christ's College, Finchley and St John's College, Oxford. He was elected a
Fellow of University College and later of Magdalen when he succeeded Ryle as Waynflete Professor of Metaphysics in 1967. He was
elected Fellow of the British Academy in 1960.

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE AND LOGIC

[1] Strawson [Introduction to Logical Theory, 2, III, & 8] makes a distinction between the grammatical and syntactical structures of
'ordinary' informal language and the structures of formal logic. He does not believe the structures of informal language are completely
represented in those of formal logic, and rejects its reducibility or reconstruction in formal terms [a]. He also distinguishes between
sentences and the use of sentences to make statements which are occurrences in time and space. [See 'On Referring']. The use of
sentences involves what he calls the relation of presupposition. This differs from entailment [b]. To see this consider the statements
'John's children are asleep' (S) and 'John has children' (S 1). Entailment is a relation such that it would be self-contradictory to conjoin S
with the denial of S1 if S1 is a necessary condition of the truth of S. Presupposition, however, is a relation such that if S presupposes S 1 it
is not self-contradictory but still logically absurd to conjoin S and the denial of S 1. If a statement A presupposes B, then A can be true or
false only if B is true. These distinctions are evident in Strawson's approach to a number of problems in philosophical logic
The Theory of Descriptions. Russell had sought to avoid the problem raised by expressions purporting to name non-existent entities by
re-expressing them in terms of what he supposed to be their underlying logical structure. Names are definite descriptions. Thus 'The
King of France is bald' becomes 'There is a King of France; there is not more than one King of France; and that thing is bald'. Such a
complex as a whole is meaningful but false when the first sentence 'There is a King of France' is false. Strawson argues ['On Referring']
that reference of a naming expression does not entail the existence of its denotation, but that this does not mean the expression is
meaningless. It has meaning in use, that is, as a statement; and when the sentence is used correctly the existence of the referent of 'the
King of France' is presupposed. Only the statementcan be said to be true or false [c]. We thus avoid the "bogus trichotomy" true,
false, or meaningless of the sentence 'The King of France is bald'. (Similar considerations apply to the problem of 'existential import',
which gives rise to difficulties in the interpretation of traditional Aristotelian syllogistic logic. Strawson argues that when sentences of
the form 'All S is P' are used in ordinary discourse they must be taken to presuppose the existence of members of the subject class.) The
reference of a name is understood by Strawson as being determined by a 'cluster' of descriptions, which at the same time expresses that
name's sense[Individuals, ch. 6] [d].
Strawson's concern with the use of language is apparent also in his treatment of the concept of truth [see 'Truth']. He rejects semantic
theories of truth. The word 'true', he says, does not describe any properties. Rather, it is used in everyday language as a kind of
'performative' to express our acquiescence in what is being said. It follows that he rejects correspondence theories of truth which
assume there is a 'mapping' between statement and 'facts' or 'states of affairs' which supposedly constitute or belong to the world [e]. This
is because, according to Strawson, the notion of a fact already presupposes a relationship between language and the world and cannot be
what language is about. Instead we should say that facts are what true statements state.
He also rejects attempts to deny or obscure the distinction between analytic and synthetic propositions. These terms, he says, have an
established philosophical use. And he argues that the concept of analyticity can be satisfactorily grounded in the notion of 'meaning the
same' as used in ordinary discourse [f]. It is mistaken or inappropriate to apply strict standards which 'analytic' cannot meet without
paradox, in that the notion of sense would itself, by the same standards, have no role to play in language. Included among analytic truths,
according to Strawson, is the claim that it is reasonable to expect as true the conclusions of inductive arguments whose premisses are
known to be true. This claim forms the basis of his rejection of the problem of induction. [See Logical Theory, ch. 9.] He argues that part
of what we mean by the terms 'reasonable' and 'rational' is learned by reference to paradigm cases of standard inductive arguments [g].
To deny that their conclusions are true is thus as unreasonable as it would be to deny the truth of such as statement as 'All bachelors are
unmarried'.
More recently Strawson has been concerned with the systematic study of explanatory foundations of grammar, which he thinks
underpins the relationship between language and our conceptual scheme. This leads on to his 'metaphysics'.

METAPHYSICS
[2] In his analysis of the grammatical structures of language Strawson argues that subject expressions have different grammatical
functions. However, he later ['Metaphysics' and Individuals] seeks to look behind these forms to "lay bare the most general features of
our conceptual structure". He sees this as the concern of what he calls 'descriptive' metaphysics (for example, in the work of Aristotle or
Kant), which utilizes categories and concepts "which, in their most fundamental character, change not at all" [Introduction]. This is
contrasted with the 'revisionary' metaphysics of, for example, Descartes, Leibniz, and Berkeley, the aim of which is "to produce a better
structure". He regards the latter as valuable only to the extent that it can assist descriptive metaphysics. Descriptive metaphysics for
Strawson is similar in intention to philosophical, logical, or conceptual analysis but differs in scope and generality [a].
According to Strawson subject expressions are 'complete' in that they pick out 'empirical facts' and thereby enable us to
identify particulars. This identification is another example of a presupposition in the proper use of such expressions. Predicate
expressions on the other hand are 'incomplete', and they introduce universals. This does not involve any presupposition or reference to
empirical facts, but predicate expressions have a role to play in contributing to the meaning of propositions. What are
'particulars'? Strawson is not looking for any 'ultimate' particulars such as (it has been claimed) private thoughts, events, sense-data out
of which other particulars might be constructed. Rather he is concerned to discover particulars which are basic in that they can be
identified without reference to particulars of other types or categories than their own. All identifiable particulars, he says, if not
themselves locatable in a spatio-temporal framework must be uniquely related to particulars which can be so located. It is these which
are the basic particulars; and for Strawson they are material objects [b].
In his account of mind [Individuals, ch. 3; see also 'Self, Mind and Body'] Strawson starts by rejecting two theories which seek to
identify states of consciousness.
(1) The "no-ownership theory". This holds that states of consciousness do not belong to persons or, indeed, to anything at all, though it is
allowed that perhaps they may be causally related to a body. But how then can I refer to 'my' experiences as dependent on the state of a
body without appealing to some kind of concept of ownership? If not, the statement 'All my experiences are dependent on the state of a
given body' would be analytic and empty; and we have no way of identifying particular experiences.
(2) Similarly, if we adopt the (Cartesian) theory that experiences belong to a private ego or self, not only can we not ascribe states of
consciousness to other people, we cannot even ascribe them to ourselves. This is, Strawson argues, because the ascription of states of
consciousness itself cannot he a private matter. We must first know how to ascribe them to other people if we are to ascribe them
meaningfully to ourselves; and this possibility is grounded in the structure of our language [c]. Strawson's own solution is to regard the
concept of a person as a primitive unanalysable concept. Persons are basic particulars to which we can ascribe (a) material object
predicates (M-predicates), for example, 'weighs 10 stone', and (b) person predicates (P-predicates), such as 'is in pain', 'believes in
God'. We can ascribe the latter to ourselves by virtue of our own feelings and consciousness. And such predicates can be ascribed to
other people on the basis of observed behaviour [d] which Strawson thinks provides us with logically adequate criteria for the
purpose of that ascription.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Firmly rooted in the 'analytical' tradition Strawson is yet a systematizer, and is important particularly for his own contribution to what he
himself has called 'descriptive' metaphysics, which he sees as revealing the overall structure of our conceptual scheme. He is notable also
for his use of the concept of 'presupposition' to criticize Russell's 'Theory of Descriptions', for his performative theory of truth, and for
maintaining the analytic-synthetic distinction.
Criticisms of Strawson's philosophy of language generally come from two sources: (1) philosophers who (like Russell) either accord
primacy to formal 1ogical structures, which they believe can be extracted from informal language, or who seek to eliminate intensional
terms from our philosophical discourse (for example, Quine); and (2) some recent philosophers who, while generally sympathetic to
Strawson, have disagreed with him on technical grounds in relation to difficulties with, for example, the concepts of presupposition
and reference.
Objections to his 'metaphysics' centre on his preference for descriptive rather than revisionary metaphysics. It has been suggested that he
is mistaken in ruling out (in a Kantian manner) the possibility of revision particularly where it might afford some primacy to our
scientific concepts). It has also been argued (for example, by Ayer) that Strawson's attempts to show that the concept of a person is
logically primitive have been unsuccessful; and that his anti-sceptical view of ascribing consciousness to oneself as being grounded in
our language, and as predicated on the assumption that we know how to ascribe consciousness to others, is false. Moreover, it can also
be argued that his theory of M- and P-predicate ascription to the 'primitive concept' of person (an instance of the so-called double aspect'
theory) is as poorly equipped as traditional 'substance dualism' is to cope with problems arising from the supposed interactions of the
'mental' with the 'physical'.

HARE
(1919 2002)

PRESCRIPTIVISM
Richard Hare was born in Backwater, Avon and educated at Rugby School and Balliol College, Oxford. He started writing philosophy
when a prisoner of the Japanese in Singapore during the war. After his repatriation he took his degree and was elected a Fellow of Balliol
in 1947. In 1966 he was appointed White's Professor of Moral Philosophy and elected to a Fellowship at Corpus Christi College. He
taught at Stanford in 1981, and from 1983 until his retirement he was Graduate Research Professor at the University of Florida. He was
elected Fellow of the British Academy in 1964.

ETHICS
[1] Hare's main aim [see The Language of Morals and Freedom and Reason] is to reconcile 'non-descriptivist' theories of moral
philosophy such as emotivism, which generally deny rationality to ethics, and naturalist and non-naturalist 'descriptivist' theories, which
take moral judgements to be logically equivalent to factual ones [a], and which he thinks tend to preserve rationality but only at the
expense of our freedom to form opinions. His approach is grounded in a detailed examination of the 'language of morals' and in
particular of three central claims.
(1) He distinguishes between descriptive and prescriptive judgements [Freedom and Reason, chs 1 and 2]. What makes predicate terms
descriptive is their determination by rules of discourse and consistency of usage. Hare argues that value terms such as 'good' and 'right'
are descriptive just as, say, 'red' is. However, he denies that value words can be defined completely, whether in terms of natural
properties (such as pleasure) or other non-natural value terms. Moral terms additionally have prescriptive meaning. By this he means that
they are commendatory. For example, to say something or someone is good is to put it/ him/ her forward as a standard of rectitude, to be
imitated by others. Descriptive meaning rules thus become synthetic moral principles. He also says that evaluative meaning changes as
social attitudes change [b].
(2) Because moral judgements have descriptive meaning, they are, Hare says, universalizable (unlike other prescriptive judgements
such as commands) [chs 2 and 3]. Thus, if we call something good (or red, say), the meaning-rules of our discourse [c] commit us to
calling something like it in relevant respects good (or red) also. Hare stresses [3.3] that his universalism is a logical and not a moral
thesis. (In Language of Morals[11.5] he had tended rather to think of universalizability as characterizing moral principles.)
(3) There are logical relations between prescriptive judgements; and this enables moral arguments to be developed. Hare offers an
analysis of the logic of moral inferences. [See chs 4, 6, and 10.] He accepts that one cannot validly infer from logical premisses to
evaluative conclusions from an 'is' to an 'ought' [LM 2.5; FR 6.9]. But although he maintains that ethical premisses are neutral as
between different moral opinions (in so far as the job of ethical theory is only to provide conceptual clarification), he argues that we can
move to imperative conclusions from premisses, one of which is imperative and the other indicative (a 'practical' syllogism), by invoking
the two central notions of prescriptivity and universalizability as the rules of moral reasoning [LM 4.1 & 4.2; cf. FM ch. 10] [d].
In a given situation we must decide on what we ought to do by looking for an action to which we can commit ourselves (thus
acknowledging its prescriptivity) and which is also an action which can be universalized thus exemplifying a principle to be
prescribed for others in like circumstances. To test a moral principle Hare also suggests three other requirements: the facts of the case,
the inclination of people to reject evaluative propositions forced on them by the logic of the argument, and their readiness to use
imagination. [See FM 6.3.]
Hare argues further [ch. 5] that support for his distinction between prescriptivism and descriptivism is provided by the existence of the
problem of weakness of will ('backsliding'). Individuals who are weak and fail to act in accordance with their perceived obligations show
by their remorse and feelings of guilt that they have in fact recognised the prescriptivity of a moral judgement. Their not being able to
act appropriately is, Hare says, a psychological impossibility; assent to an imperative does not entail that they must (logically,
analytically) act on it [e], for there are indeed occasions when they 'physically' or 'pathologically' cannot. Instances of weakness of will
do not therefore constitute counter-examples to his prescriptivism. Of course, if a person believes it to be in his power to act on a moral
imperative and yet does not act on it, then for Hare it must follow that that individual could not genuinely have been assenting to the
imperative. [See also LM 2.2 & 11.2.]
In the light of his own thesis Hare argues that the supposed distinction between deontological and teleological theories is a false one. It is
possible to distinguish only between different sorts of intended effects. He therefore sees his own prescriptivism as providing a formal
basis for utilitarianism [ch. 7] [f]. However, he recognises a number of difficulties in the traditional doctrine that need to be resolved.
Firstly, there are problems concerning desires whether equal weight should be given to the same desires had by different persons; or
to supposedly 'higher' and 'lower' desires; and how desires relate to inclinations and interests. Secondly, in view of the difficulties with
the utilitarian concepts of happiness and pleasure, it might be preferable to reformulate the theory in terms of the interests of different
parties. Thirdly, Hare argues that the distinction between act- and rule-utilitarianism collapses once the universalizability of moral
judgements is granted.
However, implicit in the linking of his theory with utilitarianism is a conflict between interests and ideals [chs 8 and 9]. Moral
disagreements arising at the intuitive level can be transcended at the level of critical thought through the provision of a standard of
adequacy for moral principles in terms of satisfaction of interests and universalizability [see also Moral Thinking] [g]. Nevertheless there
may still be moral disagreements if 'fanatics' seemingly disregard the preferences of other people and justify their own by appeals to
'ideals', even if the consequence is persecution of others or themselves. But Hare says that the number of fanatics is relatively small
and that a moral philosophy grounded in universalizability, imagination, clear critical thinking, and a genuine concern for facts will
afford self-protection against propaganda, even if it will not undermine the commitment of determined fanatics.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Hare's impressive achievement is to have developed a subtle analysis of the language of morals and in-depth examinations of particular
moral conflicts to show how his concepts can be applied. His key distinction is that between descriptivity and prescriptivity of
judgements, the former facilitating universalizability, the latter being the commendatory function of moral terms. More generally, with
his broadly utilitarian thesis he attempts to reconcile teleological and deontological theories of ethics. The acceptability of Hare's
approach clearly depends on the tenability of his fundamental assumptions and distinctions about which there has been much
discussion. The following are some of the main issues.
(1) If a distinction between descriptivity and prescriptivity is sustainable in the way Hare suggests (and many would dispute this), there
would seem to be difficulties for a non-naturalistic ethics in that (a) commendations are arguably in some sense private or subjective
(unlike describable properties); and (b) commendation is not a uniquely differentiating feature of moral discourse.
(2) Hare follows Hume in his acceptance of the fact-value distinction. But in so far as he recognises that both our concepts and
evaluations may change, depending on circumstances and context, it might be supposed that a language could be formulated in which it
would be legitimate to reason from non-imperative premisses to imperative conclusions.
(3) Hare appeals to universalizability. but some commentators argue that this should be understood in a weak sense reflecting
linguistic usage rather than underpinning a Kantian type of ethics. If this is so, then the moral force of Hare's concept would have to be
weakened. In any case, in so far as he seems to be committed to the view that having a desire to perform an action is a necessary
condition of one's assenting to a moral judgement, it would seem that any personal moral belief has to be universalized; and clearly this
can lead to many impractical consequences. In the light of this his assertion that only fanatics will perform such actions is somewhat
optimistic, and indeed his position must lend support to fanaticism and intolerance.

RAWLS

(1921 2002)

SOCIAL CONTRACT THEORY

John Rawls was born in Baltimore, U.S.A. and educated at Princeton University, gaining his PhD. in 1950.
After teaching at Princeton, Cornell, and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology he was appointed a
professor of philosophy at Harvard in 1962, where he remained until he retired in 1991.

POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY

[1] [A Theory of Justice] Arguing that utilitarianism is a threat to the rights of the individual and does not
adequately address the problem of inequality, Rawls says that people should be treated as ends in
themselves and not as means [a]. He seeks to understand justice in terms of fair distribution of goods in
accordance with the free rational choice of individuals motivated by mutual disinterest; and on account of
this autonomy he considers the principles of justice as categorical imperatives [Sec. 40] [b]. His view of
justice is also closely connected with his definition of a person's good as "the successful execution of a
rational plan of life" (lesser goods being parts thereof) [66]. This plan of life relates to a variety of ends,
including the satisfaction of human desires and needs, friendship, self-realization, and so on; he is not
advocating a crude hedonism. The individual's conception of the good and his sense of justice constitute his
'moral personality'. A moral person is a subject with ends he has chosen, and his fundamental preference is
for conditions that enable him to frame a mode of life that expresses his nature as a free and equal human
being as fully as circumstances permit [85].

Rawls argues that it is precisely such moral persons who are entitled to equal justice and indeed this fact can be used to interpret
the concept of natural rights, the rights that justice as fairness protects [77] [c].
To determine what is just he says we must first distance ourselves behind what he calls the 'veil of ignorance' [24] from the
advantages we possess in society as it actually is and from our own particular conceptions of the good, so as to ascertain what
primary goods are essential for a minimal, tolerable existence. What would we as free and rational persons then choose in this
hypothetical situation? In his later work he replaces the hypothetical contract by an actual social contract 'determined collectively' in
the context of a pluralistic society. Rawls here places great emphasis on the social nature of mankind [d]. This is because it is
through "social union founded upon the needs and potentialities of its members that each person can participate in the total sum of
the realized natural assets of the others" [79]. This leads us, he says, to the notion of the community of humankind, the members of
which enjoy one another's excellences and individuality elicited by free institutions, They also recognize each other's good as an
element in the complete activity the whole scheme they consent to and which gives pleasure to them all. [79]
He sets out his argument as a series of principles which he thinks people would agree on regardless of their
individual personal and economic circumstances [see 11-13, 39, 45]. These principles are 'lexically ordered',
by which he means that a particular principle does not come into play until those previous to it are either
fully met or are shown not to apply. There are two key principles: (1) The first provides that each person's
liberties should be maximized consistent with the provision of equal liberty for every other person. Liberty
is thus an essential aspect of Rawls' theory of justice.

(2) According to the second principle social and economic inequalities are to be arranged so that (a) they
benefit everyone, the primary concern being to bring about the greatest benefit for the worst off; and (b)
offices and positions are open to all there should be equality of opportunity. It follows that for him no
advantage can be morally acceptable if it does not benefit those members of society who are the most
disadvantaged. This is called the difference principle. Rawls assumes his two principles to fall under the
heading of 'egalitarianism' [e] (although he notes that there are many forms of equality, and egalitarianism
admits of degrees) [80].

What if the democratically elected governments fails to implement the contracted principles of justice?
According to Rawls, civil disobedience which results from an intention to get the law or government
policies changed is permissible but subject to a number of conditions [f]. Acts of disobedience, he says,
must be public and non-violent, and there must be a willingness on the part of the objectors to accept the
legal and penal consequences. Disobedience must also be based on the political principles underlying the
constitution and not on personal or party interests. Civil disobedience for Rawls thus falls between legal
protest on the one side and conscientious resistance on the other (which is usually based on moral or
religious convictions).

CRITICAL SUMMARY

Rawls' moral and political philosophy has had a considerable impact on 'liberal' intellectual life in America. As a result of his 'thought
experiment' to identify the fundamental principles which would guarantee a minimal tolerable social existence for all citizens, he argues
for a fair distribution of goods as constituting justice, the maximization of individual liberty compatible with the freedom of others,
equality of opportunity, and qualified legitimacy of civil disobedience. His thesis, however, has proved to be highly controversial.
(1) It has been objected that it is not possible to hide completely behind the 'veil of ignorance'; we cannot start from an 'empty' position.
The concept is formalistic. It would seem to follow that we do not have a 'rational' choice in Rawls' sense; or, if we do, other procedures,
for example, risk-taking, might be equally rational.
(2) Rawls regards property as grounding his theory of rights. Some critics argue that the right to property is antecedent to a Rawlsian
society by virtue of tacit agreements, contracts, and the like; and redistribution would in fact constitute an injustice. Moreover,
happiness, or freedom, rather than redistribution of property 'goods' could be taken as the proper foundation for justice.
(3) Rawls seems to subordinate liberty to justice. Some critics are not happy with the perceived consequence that citizens might be
compelled to act in accordance with the principles, notwithstanding their acceptance of the social contract.

DUMMETT
(1925 2011)

ANALYTIC PHILOSOPHY
Sir Michael Dummett was born in London and educated at Winchester College and Christ Church, Oxford. He was elected Fellow of All
Souls and subsequently became Reader in the Philosophy of Mathematics at the University of Oxford, lecturing at New College. From
1978 until his retirement in 1992 he was Wykeham Professor of Logic. He has also taught at Berkeley and Stanford, and at the
University of Ghana; and he was the Gifford Lecturer for 1997. He was knighted in 1999.

PHILOSOPHY OF LOGIC AND LANGUAGE

[1] Throughout his career Dummett's major concern has been to formulate a systematic philosophy of language, that is, to develop the
appropriate methods and criteria for its study, which may also, he thinks, result in a 'system' or body of theory for the philosophy of
language. He believes this is required because analysis of language is analysis of the thought communicated by it "without residue", and
hence of the 'reality' expressed by means of it [a].
Dummett is especially interested in the conceptual relationships between meaning and truth. He rejects the view that truth is implicitly
understood (for example, in correspondence theories). While truth-conditions are sometimes explicit, in many situations we do not know
what they are particularly with reference to future facts or, in the case of subjunctives, to counterfactual conditionals; they transcend
the evidence. Hence he rejects realism and argues that to understand 'truth' that we need to grasp meaning. We therefore need a theory of
meaning [b]. This will firstly (a) set out the meaning of logical constants and hence the logical laws of a natural language, and (b)
uncover the correct model for the language and thus clarify the concept of truth by showing how it relates to meaning. But, secondly, he
says such a theory must include an account of what knowledge or understanding consists in when we use it, and it requires reference to
the concepts of both 'sense' and 'force' [c]. The latter characterizes the various linguistic acts involved in linguistic usage, such as
asserting, commanding, interrogating. In the context of his theory of meaning Dummett argues further that the distinction between sense
and reference must be preserved. Sense is an ingredient in meaning in that to give an account of the sense of an expression is to give a
partial account of what a speaker knows when he understands that expression. It cannot simply consist in having that reference.
Indeed sense determines reference [d]. He therefore rejects causal theories of reference [e] (according to which terms refer to what they
are linked to without users necessarily identifying or knowing those referents). He recognises the insight they offer into the the way the
reference of some kinds of proper names (such as names of persons, animals) is determined, but he has reservations about this and in any
case argues that it fails to give an account of the functioning of proper names in general. [See 'Frege's Distinction between Sense and
Reference'.]
Instead of searching for evidence-transcendent truth-conditions, Dummett argues for a verificationist-pragmatist approach to meaning. In
line with the antirealist position he adopts with regard to logic and mathematics, he favours an intuitionist approach according to which
the 'truth' of a statement is understood in terms of our ability to recognise that there is a proof for it. 'Truth' is to be understood with
reference to the procedures we use when trying to find out truth-values, and is to be associated with such notions as 'justifiability' and
'assertability' of individual beliefs. And he therefore rejects the view that the approach to language must be holistic [f].
There are several important consequences for Dummett's antirealism. For example, he has to reject the bivalence of classical logic [g],
that is the view that every statement in the language is determinately true or false. Further, his thesis necessitates a revision of the way
we understand reality through thought expressed in language. The solution of metaphysical problems for him lies not in a quest for
illegitimate usage but in finding the 'model', associated with the account of meaning, which emerges from his meaning-theory [h].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Dummett is regarded by many commentators as one of the outstanding analytical philosophers of the twentieth century not only for
his own philosophical thinking but also for his writings on Frege. How one responds to his views on language depends largely on
whether one accepts that the concept of meaning must ground the concept of truth, rather than holding that an implicitly understood
notion of truth is needed to elucidate meaning. If one does follow Dummett, however, there are serious difficulties to contend with.
(1) Some opponents argue that it is mistaken to suppose that the language we use determines our world-view. On the contrary, they say,
the nature of the world determines the way we talk about it and limits what can be said. Metaphysical problems are therefore prior to
semantic issues.
(2) Antirealism requires the overturning of long-established traditions and linguistic conventions in relation to classical logic,
deductive inference, talk about the past, and so on. Against this it might be said that the 'revision' necessitated by the antirealist is no less
radical than that required by many truth-based theories, for example, Davidson's. And even if difficulties with bivalence and the like can
in some way be met, it might be argued that on Dummett's thesis problems with transcendental realism remain. However, a definitive
view has not yet emerged, as controversy between realists and antirealists in relation to meaning and truth is on-going; and much of the
literature has become highly technical.

PUTNAM
(b. 1926)

ANALYTIC PHILOSOPHY/ 'INTERNAL' REALISM

Hilary Putnam was born in Chicago. He gained his Ph.D. at the University of California, Los Angeles in 1951. He has taught at
Northwestern University, Princeton, and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. In 1976 he was appointed Professor of modern
mathematics and mathematical logic at Harvard.

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE/ METAPHYSICS

[1] There are a number of key features of Putnam's thought which are interdependent and inform his views on language, mind, and
reality. [See especially Reason, Truth and History.]
(1) Referential semantics [chs 1 and 2]. He rejects (i) the view that meanings are theoretical entities or states, scientific objects existing
'in the head', which can have an explanatory role to play in scientific theory [a]; and (ii) the theory that sense determines reference, that
is, the truth conditions for something to be part of a term's extension [b]. This is because such views cannot explain how mental states,
intentions, or meanings can refer to extramental entities. Changes in meaning will also bring about changes in the content of theories.
Putnam therefore argues that the reference of a term is determined by what occurs in the linguistic community and by causal connections
that exist in the world [c]. Thus we can see that, say, 'gold' refers to a particular substance not because of any meanings, concepts or rules
in the head but by virtue of 'paradigmatic examples' implicit in language use. Likewise he says there can be no criterion for synonymy
and hence analyticity except for what is actually given to us in interpretive practice. The concept of truth is non-eliminable [see 'The
Analytic and the Synthetic'] [d].
(2) Essentialism. [See 'Meaning and Reference'.] According to Putnam, when we use, say, the word 'gold' to refer to an object, while we
may recognise something as being gold through observation of its properties (yellow, malleable, etc.), the term itself refers to a particular
stuff or natural kind, the 'essence' of which can be determined by scientific analysis [e] to reveal structure, atomic number, and so on.
To be gold the object must possess these properties necessarily, even though our knowledge of them may be gained a posteriori. Putnam
offers a 'thought-experiment'. He supposes that water (H2O) has a counterpart in another world 'Twin Earth'. Both there and on our
Earth the substance is identified extensionally by reference to its properties (colourless, transparent, for example). But even if these
properties are the same, conform to the same operational definitions, and the same word 'water' is used to refer to the substance in both
worlds, it is not the same liquid if its internal or micro-structure is different. To be water in any world the substance must be H2O (or
whatever chemists determine its structure to be). The designating term is thus said to be 'rigid' in that it refers to the same individual in
any possible world. An important consequence of this is that the reference of a word cannot depend on its being linked with other words
as descriptions but only on the relevant causal chain. The sense of the term is then identified with the type of chain involved [f] [f].
Putnam supposed further that the causal reference theory could be extended to terms other than natural kind ones. [See 'The Meaning of
"meaning" '].
(3) Internal realism [chs 3, 5, 7, and 8]. Putnam had earlier accepted 'metaphysical realism' the view that the world consists of a
totality of mind-independent objects, for which there is only one true and complete description. However, he came to recognise that his
causal reference theory of meaning made this view untenable. This is because to understand causal links between things or events we
must have thoughts about these links; and we can never, as it were, break out of our thoughts to achieve a 'God's eye point of view' of the
way language relates to the world. We cannot achieve an absolute comparison of our system of concepts with reality. But this does not
mean that Putnam is committed to relativism which denies there are any absolute standards of truth or rationality. On the contrary, he
rejects relativism because it fails to distinguish between the correctness of a belief and its seeming to be correct. He proposes instead
that while remaining within a conceptual system we can consider the ways in which our beliefs, judgements, principles relate to and
reinforce one another with a view to achieving a partial comprehension of reality. The correspondence (or 'similitude') theory of truth is
thus no longer acceptable [g] for the reason that there can be a multitude of correspondences between objects and (what we take to
be) incompatible theories [RTH, ch. 3]. Rationality, although grounded and operating within language and culture, nevertheless has a
normative, 'transcendent' regulative aspect which enables us to criticize our traditions and provides the basis for the employment of such
epistemological concepts as justification, truth, and warranted assertibility. Truth, he says, is "idealized rational acceptability under
epistemically ideal conditions" [ibid.]. A true statement may be said to be warrantedly assertible within the context of a given culture,
but it is not to be defined in terms of warranted assertibility. In general he rejects attempts to 'naturalize' epistemological concepts [h] by
reference to scientific beliefs grounded in, for example, sensory stimuli ['Why Reason Can't Be Naturalized']. Similarly he accepts
that value terms such as 'good' and 'right' (as well as such notions as 'true' and 'justification' see above) cannot be reduced to
physicalist properties and relations. Putnam argues further that while the fact-value dichotomy might not be overcome, as (respectively)
rational acceptability and relevance facts (or 'truths') and values are interdependent. Our criteria of relevance rest on and reveal our
whole system of values, and it is our rationality which enables us to determine what questions are relevant ones to ask and what answers
it is warranted to accept. The concept of rationality itself presupposes values (the 'good') which relate to and depend on assumptions
about human nature ('human flourishing' as constituting in part our rationality, for example), society, and the universe as a whole .
Moreover, he says that we have had to revise our theory of the good (such as it is) again and again as our knowledge has increased and
our world-view has changed [see chs 6 and 9]. Different ideas of human flourishing may be appropriate for individuals with different
constitutions even in some 'ideal' world; diversity is part of the ideal [ch. 6] [i].

PHILOSOPHY OF MIND
[2] Putnam initially espoused functionalism [ibid. ch. 4]. The mind is thought of as akin to a computer 'software' program which is
processed by the 'hardware' of the brain, though it is possible that mental life might be instantiated in other hardware structures, such as
computers themselves or silicon-based organisms, for example. What makes a mental state into a particular kind, such as pain, or a belief
that something is the case, is to be located in the network of functional connections that link the behaviour of the organism to the
environment. It is our descriptions of these interconnections that are articulated in the language of the mental. More recently Putnam has
come to reject this position [see Reason and Representation]. While the existence of mental states might be compatible with a range of
physical systems or structures, he now argues that they cannot be identified with functional, physical-chemical, or computationally
characterized states, though they may be emergent from and 'supervenient' on them. Underlying his critique is the view that mental life
rationality, intentionality cannot be (like epistemology) be 'naturalized' [a] and his recognition that a given mental state can be
realized in different computational machines and thus cannot be identified with any particular one.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Putnam's philosophy is of considerable interest for its combination of the analytic qualities characteristic of some of the best Anglo-
American philosophers with the breadth to be found in much contemporary continental social philosophy and philosophical
anthropology. Moreover, his thought is not static and has undergone considerable revision in his pursuit of truth. These are the key
features:
(1) He rejects Frege's view that sense determines reference in favour of an extensionalist account of meaning and truth determined by
causal connections in the world and the constraints imposed by the language of a given community in 'interpretive practice'. Associated
with this approach is his use of the concept of the rigid designator.
(2) Rejecting both metaphysical 'objective' realism and relativism he espouses what he calls internal realism.
(3) He holds a concept of truth as regulative and as "idealized rational acceptability".
(4) He is committed to essentialism.
(5) In his later work he rejects functionalism and all theories which seek to 'naturalize' mental life.
Inevitably, given the wide range of issues examined by Putnam, his writings have attracted criticisms from philosophers of various
traditions.
(1) Many would dispute the view that mental life can be emergent from or supervenient on physical structures and yet cannot be
naturalized. How this occurs is arguably not adequately accounted for. (As against this, it has to be said that no contemporary theory of
mind and there are many has received universal acceptance.)
(2) More controversial perhaps is his (and Kripke's) theory of the rigid designator and his referential semantics. While the programme
may be feasible as applied to 'natural kinds' such as chemical elements, which have well-defined structures and properties, when it
comes to designating more complex entities, for example, animals, human beings, the theory becomes more questionable and difficult to
sustain without almost casuistic ad hoc modifications. His anti-Fregean (or at least modified Fregean) view of sense and reference is also
controversial and continues to be debated vigorously.
(3) Truth for Putnam is an unrealized ideal. But this raises the question as to how far we can pass beyond conceptual restraints while
remaining within the system. Can coherence, reinforcement 'point' beyond? Is there a middle way between 'metaphysical realism' and
'relativism' as Putnam supposes (we might call this 'weak realism' as opposed to 'strong' realism and antirealism)? Further, can criteria
be set out for "epistemologically ideal conditions" which are either not already grounded in our conceptual scheme or are based on
arbitrary and pragmatic considerations?

HABERMAS
(b. 1929)

CRITICAL THEORY
Jrgen Habermas was born in Dsseldorf and studied philosophy at the universities of Gttingen and Bonn. After a short time as an
assistant to Theodor Adorno (a founder of the so-called Frankfurt school and Director of the Institute for Social Research there) he
became Professor of Philosophy at Heidelberg and then, in 1964, at Frankfurt as Professor of Philosophy and Sociology. In 1971 he was
appointed joint director of the Max-Planck Institute for the Study of the Conditions of Life in the Scientific-Technical World, before
returning to Frankfurt in 1982.

SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY/ KNOWLEDGE/ HERMENEUTICS

[1] Habermas may perhaps be regarded as the leading representative of the 'second generation' or new Frankfurt School. The founders of
this movement were concerned essentially to return to a more 'philosophical' or Hegelian Marx. Habermas sets out to develop a new
concept of rationality and incorporate it within a neo-Marxist framework undistorted by positivistic excesses. Although generally
sympathetic to the modern hermeneutic view that the possibilities of reason and interpretation are both constrained by and dependent on
the cultural and historical context within which we act and communicate, Habermas believes it is possible to transcend such limits and
still sees reason as having a central role to play. (He sees Gadamer as being too ready to submit to the authority of tradition and also
argues that his notion of interpretive horizons is methodologically limited.) Indeed, he regards it as the primary function of philosophy to
act as a "guardian of reason" not least because it is exhibited in and underpins human autonomy and freedom and underlies critiques
of all forms of authority and dogma. However, he rejects the search for ultimate epistemological foundations or any attempt to build a
'first philosophy'. Instead he sets out to cooperate with the 'reconstructive' human sciences, which are concerned to discover and make
explicit the intuitive human capacities underlying speech, judgement, and action. He also regards philosophy as having a role to play as
mediator between the various spheres of culture [a] the natural sciences, the arts, law, ethics, and so on, each of which has its own
'logic' or methodology. Philosophy itself thus becomes a human science, making its own contribution to other cultural modes as a
'placeholder' (Statt-, Platzhalter) to keep open questions that they have 'closed off'. But it also acts as an intermediary between and
interpreter of the cultural modes constituting the 'lifeworld'.
[2] In his early work [Knowledge and Human Interests] Habermas examines the various kinds of sciences with a view to uncovering
their presuppositions and epistemological bases. He sees each science as associated with its own type of human knowledge interest. By
'interest' he is referring to what he sees as aspects of man's relationship to the natural and social environment and the way that
relationship has developed historically. (1) In the context of his critique of what he sees as the limitations and 'objectivist' claims of
positivism Habermas argues that in the empirical-analytic natural sciences, which utilize general laws and predictions, the interest should
be technical with a view to determining the limits of applicability of these sciences and facilitating purposive rational action. It is only in
such a context that the methodological procedures of the natural sciences can be properly exercised. This rational action corresponds to
Marx's concept of labour. Rationality is 'instrumental' in so far as we are seeking the means to bring about control or domination of
nature [a]. (2) The pursuit of the empirical sciences is essentially a communal enterprise. A communicative dimension is therefore
required and this, Habermas says, cannot be reduced to instrumental action. We thus have a second knowledge-constitutive 'interest',
which is practical and concerned with communication the domain of the historical-communicative sciences [b]. Action is now not
labour but interaction with other people. This involves 'substantive rationality' a concern with the validity or correctness of the norms
and values binding on the group (as a result of consensus), which is to be distinguished from the more manipulative and instrumental
rationality into which the Enlightenment ideal of reason had degenerated. The historical-communicative sciences set out to analyse the
agent's self-understanding and the rules guiding communicative action through examination of texts and human behaviour. (3) Language
as a prerequisite for communicative action is subject to distortion. A third 'interest' must therefore be ' emancipation', with a view to
achieving a true and rational consensus by discovering the forces and hidden motivations, implicit in ideologies and power groupings,
which 'distort' communication [see sec. 3]. The function of the critical sciences can be seen in both Habermas's critique of ideology and
his appeal to psychoanalysis. With respect to the former he criticizes in particular Marx for (1) describing historical change as a function
of the forces of production, and (2) for singling out labour as the basic category and motivating force in the evolution of society. Marx,
he says, has ignored the role of language and social interaction between people [c]. His aim therefore is to 'reconstruct' the
presuppositions of communication and to understand the validity claims of utterances (comprehensibility, truth, intentional truthfulness,
appropriateness in a normative context) in the context of of language conceived as a unity as opposed to a fragmented, pluralistic view of
language divorced from cultural tradition. In the event of dispute these claims can be examined at the 'meta-communicative' levels of
theoretical and practical discourse. At the theoretical level the requirements for achieving a rational consensus can be identified; while at
the practical level of discourse the concern is with interests which can be 'universalized'. This forms the basis of his theory of
'communicative ethics' [d]. As for psychoanalysis, the significance for Habermas lies in the duality of its methodology. On one level, in
seeking to identify and explain 'distortions' originating in the unconscious it utilizes methods akin to those employed in the emprical-
analytic sciences. Yet if the therapist is to assist the patient to understand and eliminate, say, neurotic symptoms, a degree of
understanding or 'interpretation' is required in so far as the symptoms originate in repressions which are as it were 'hidden' causes,
distinguishable from the observable causes which constitute the basic data of nomological theorists. Psychoanalysis is thus paradigmatic
for the critical social sciences. The investigator must employ the methods of the natural sciences to discover the causes of linguistic and
social 'distortions', and yet must engage in interpretation with a view to an emancipatory resolution. In this way Habermas makes his
contribution to the ongoing debate concerning the relationship between explanation and understanding [see especially On the Logic of
the Social Sciences] [e].
[3] Habermas examines his own ideas critically and develops them further, utilizing the insights of analytic philosophy [see Theory of
Communicative Action]. He is now concerned especially with the epistemological problem of how human knowledge relates both to
external nature and 'inner' human nature; with the problem of assessing the respective claims to validity of the three different methods of
enquiry; and with the view that human action is an area for study sui generis, requiring specifically hermeneutic understanding on the
part of the investigator.
Both communicative (symbolic) action and purposive rational action (labour) are exercised in a social context respectively in
'institutions' which in effect determine the standards or norms for interaction and in those systems of production and coordination
through which materials are transformed by labour in accordance with what are perceived as 'appropriate' rules. Those processes in
society which make both these kinds of action possible Habermas calls 'rationalization'. In both types of action relating to 'external'
and 'internal' nature the norms or rules are articulated through language. In communicative action in our daily lives we use language
to exchange information about the world and our experiences. We engage in discourse when we put forward arguments to justify validity
claims. Habermas identifies four such cases: (1) expressions must be comprehensive; (2) propositional content must be true; (3) the
speaker has to express his intentions truthfully; and (4) the utterances the user selects have to be right, that is, correct in the context of
existing norms and values. These claims, Habermas says, are essential to the fundamental ideals of truth, freedom, and justice a grasp
of which he sees as presuppositions of 'communicative competence' [a]. What account is to be given of these fundamental regulative
norms? He argues that they are consensual in the sense that they define what people expect of each other's behaviour and presupose the
intersubjectively agreed validity claims involved in ordinary linguistic (symbolic) communication. Truth, for Habermas, belongs to
statements not utterances, and to say that a statement is true is to make a validity claim utilizing constative speech-acts, not to appeal to
some sort of correspondence to an 'objective' or 'transcendental' fact. Truth, he says, "means the promise to attain a rational consensus"
[Theory of Truth]. Similarly, he rejects the views (a) that normative ideals are true or false in some absolute 'objective' sense, or (b) that
they cannot be validated at all, are to be understood as expressions of feelings, are 'prescriptive', and so on [b]. It follows that
rationalization of communicative action depends on the sincerity of the agent's intentions (as expressed in action) and also on the actual
validity of the claims. Given this, communicative action can facilitate both self-formation (development of psychological identity) and
social integration.
As the unavoidable "reciprocal presuppositions of discourse" Habermas postulates the "ideal speech situation". This is characterized by
two factors: (1) the absence of external constraints so that all participants in a dialogue have the same opportunity to apply speech-acts;
(2) the obtaining of conditions in which rational motivation is allowed to determine the conclusions of discourse [c]. The ideal speech
situation will then facilitate the individual's freedom in action and discourse, allow for revision or replacement of linguistic systems and
the theoretical reformulation of the key concepts truth, freedom, and justice. By contrast, communication can be systematically distorted.
This is exhibited in a variety of ways. An individual may follow rules which deviate from standard conventional models of usage; or
may engage in inflexible and repetitious patterns of behaviour. There may also be different levels of communication revealed, as we
have seen, through psychoanalysis between our public persona or ego and our repressed unconscious, or between our inner
undisclosed motivation and our intuitions which can be identified and expressed through language. And of course there is the systematic
distortion of communication in ideologies as a result of the deliberate deception perpetrated by those exercising power through
propaganda, social control, and so on, which hides the mechanisms of repression and rejects or disregards validity claims. As for
purposive-rational action, we do not acquire norms or rules through social interaction but through a learning process. Rationalization is
effected under two aspects or practices: instrumental action, which appeals to a successful application of empirical knowledge in
accordance with technical rules, and rational choice, which appeals to rules of strategy. Rationalization in the latter case would thus seem
to presuppose the validity claims implicit in ordinary linguistic communication.
[4] In later writings [for example, Moral Consciousness and Communicative Action and The Philosophical Discourse of Modernity)
Habermas attempts a more thorough working out of the connections between our knowledge-constitutive interests and theoretical and
practical discourse so that multiple translations can be effected between the two realms of linguistic assertions and action-related
experience respectively [a]. In this way purposive-rational action (to which the empirical sciences apply) can be related to statements
about natural events and things, and communicative action (the concern of the hermeneutical sciences) can be related to statements about
persons and their utterances; while as a result of a process of abstraction everyday experience can both ground statements about
scientific data and provide a basis for discursive argument. [Habermas traces the development of the relationship between theory and
praxis in his Theory and Practice.]
In general we can say there are three main conclusions Habermas comes to. (1) It is possible to transcend the constraints imposed by
traditional hermeneutics through a 'reconstruction' of the conditions and presuppositions of theoretical and practical discourse, and more
specifically of communication aimed at understanding. (2) He thinks a theory of communicative ethics can be based on a 'universal
pragmatics' which appeals to a rational consensus to determine and validate human needs and interests. (3) To overcome the apparent
divide between theory and praxis and provide a rational basis for political action he recommends the reconstruction of a 'logic of social
evolution' structured along the lines of a scientific theory of genetics.

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Habermas is an eclectic philosopher who has produced an original and wide-ranging synthesis of German social philosophy,
hermeneutics, aspects of analytic philosophy, and pragmatism. But, as with so many continental philosophers, his dense writing style and
complex terminology do not facilitate a ready understanding of his thought. He rejects epistemological absolutism yet seeks to preserve
reason as an idealized possibility in the face of cultural relativism by developing his 'critical' theory. He sees all sciences as functions of
human interests. Rejecting the narrow positivist account of meaning, he advocates a 'reconstructive' critique of the sciences, which will
allow for their self-reflection and verification through consequences.
Habermas's view that through, for example, psychoanalysis and liberation from ideology it will be possible to achieve a normative
intersubjective consensus, leading to a universal pragmatic of communicative ethics and political action, is arguably optimistic. Having
rejected both any 'substantive' notion of moral rationality (such as Kant's) and formal rules for grounding morality, he yet assumes
uncritically that removal of ideological distortion will lead to such a rational consensus and thence to a universal ethic. This is
questionable. Habermas claims that it is possible to develop a self-reflective methodology which will enable 'pre-judices' to be overcome
and which will provide the basis for a (pragmatically) objective social science. But against this Gadamer argues that Habermas is
resorting to a traditional and unattainable objectivism [a]. This debate has continued. However, more recently Habermas and Gadamer
seem to have achieved some measure of reconciliation in their views of this issue.
He also regards the consequences of his instrumentalist critical theory both as part of the theory and yet as confirming it. It is debatable
whether this 'pragmatic' approach is adequate to support his claim that the cultural-historical dimension is at least partially
transcended. What criterion of success is offered?

SEARLE
(b. 1932)

ANALYTIC PHILOSOPHY
John Searle was born in Denver, Colorado, and educated at the Universities of Wisconsin and Oxford, where he was a Rhodes Scholar. A
lecturer at Christ Church, Oxford, 1957-9, he subsequently became Professor of Mind and Language at the University of California,
Berkeley, and has been a visiting professor at many other universities in the U.S.A. and Europe.

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE
[1] [Speech Acts; see also Expression and Meaning.] Central to Searle's account of language is the concept of a speech-act, which he
sees as a type of human action. His philosophy of language is thus a branch of the philosophy of mind (though he draws on his views of
language for his exposition of the latter). The production of a 'sentence token' in a performance of a speech-act is an illocutionary act,
and the basic unit of linguistic communication. The performance of illocutionary acts is a rule-grounded form of behaviour and is
constitutive (as opposed to the regulative employment of rules). Illocutionary acts in general have (1) propositional content, that
is, meaning, and (2) illocutionary force [a], that is, how propositions are to be taken as stating, warning, questioning, and so on.
A theory of meaning for Searle must involve rules for the use of expressions in speech-acts [b]. Illocutionary acts have both intentional
and conventional aspects. A speaker intends to produce certain effects by means of getting a hearer to recognise the intention, and
intends the recognition to be achieved in virtue of the fact that rules for use associate expressions with the production of effects. Searle
argues in favour of the view that meanings are, as it were, 'in the head' grounded in the intentional mental states of speakers and
hearers, but he rejects the necessity to postulate the existence of a 'third realm' [c] of senses or propositions, and so on. And he subscribes
to the theory that the meaning or sense of a proper names is expressed by a 'cluster' of associated descriptions which thereby determines
the reference of the name. Such a theory is said to avoid the problem of linking the name to a single definite description [see especially
'Proper names'] [d]. He also argues that identity sentences (for example, 'Tully = Cicero') could be used to make either analytic or
synthetic statements [e], depending on which descriptive statements are associated with each name [ibid.].

PHILOSOPHY OF MIND
[2] [See Mind, Language and Society and The Rediscovery of the Mind.] Searle's philosophy of mind underpins his views in most of the
branches of philosophy he has been interested in. His main concern is to account for what he identifies as four features of mental
phenomena: consciousness, intentionality, the subjectivity of mental states, and mental causation; and to solve the mind-body problem,
to defeat dualism, he argues in favour of a revision of conceptual categories [a] and refuses "to accept the system of categories that
makes consciousness out as something nonbiological, not part of the natural world" [MLS, p. 52]. He does not believe there is an
intrinsic opposition between the vocabulary of 'mental' and 'physical' [Rediscovery of the Mind, chs 2, 5]. Intentionality perhaps the
central concept for Searle is that which our mental states are directed at or are 'about', that is, represent objects, states of affairs in the
world. It applies to beliefs, desires, perceptions, feelings, as well as intentions and actions [see Intentionality and MLS, ch. 4] [b]. To
explain how intentionality 'represents' Searle appeals to the linguistic concepts of 'propositional content' and 'direction of fit'. The
propositional content or 'sense' of a mental state determines what he calls 'conditions of satisfaction' [Intentionality, ch. 6, MLS, ch. 4].
In the case of belief these are conditions for truth; in the case of intentions they are conditions for the intentions to be effected; while for
desires fulfilment is the condition. The relevant psychological mode determines the direction of fit [c]. Beliefs, for example, are
intended to match the world (the direction of fit is then mind-to-world). If there is a match then we can say the belief is true: there is a
word-to-world direction of fit. Desires and intentions, however, have world-to-mind direction of fit; it is, as it were, the responsibility of
the world if it satisfies or does not satisfy the desire or intention.
Searle extends his theory of intentionality to perception and action [Intentionality, chs, 2 & 3]. Particular states of affairs in the world
give the conditions of satisfaction required for a perceptual experience to be veridical. (He thus subscribes to a realist view of the world
and to a correspondence theory of truth) [d]. Similarly he accounts for human action in terms of 'mental' and 'physical' aspects. When we
act we are conscious of physical changes, as in, for example, exertions; but also involved is a mental component an intention
characterized by intentionality. The content and type of the mental state relates it to the world; and if the state is successful, that is, leads
to the intended action, it is satisfied. The world, Searle says, matches the content of the state. He recognises, however, that many of our
actions, especially those involved in speech, occur without prior reflection, though in such cases there is 'intention-in-action'. It follows
that observed physical behaviour is compatible with different intentions, and that therefore a variety of descriptions may apply and are
known especially to the agent [e].
Both perception and bodily actions have to be caused in an appropriate manner respectively by the state of affairs (world-to-mind)
and the agent's intention (mind-to-world). There is thus an internal connection between causes and effects . Perception and action, he
says, are "causally self-referential". His theory is one of efficient causation [f]. He argues that all mental phenomena, conscious or
unconscious, are caused by brain processes, but at the same time are features of the brain. He clarifies this by means of an analogy. The
liquidity of water is a 'surface' phenomenon realized in the system but yet explained in terms of interactions between water molecules,
that is, the microstructure. The four aspects of mental phenomena thus have a biological explanation; and the interaction of mind and
body, he thinks, ceases to be a problem [g].
As might be expected, Searle rejects functionalist and exclusively physicalist or materialist accounts of mental phenomena, as well as
'strong' theories of artificial intelligence [MLS, ch. 2]. Central to his argument is the view that mental phenomena have semantic content,
whereas computer programs are defined entirely by their syntactical, that is, formal structures. Similarly he attacks cognitivist
theories designed to fill the supposed gap between neurophysiological explanations of human behaviour and commonsense accounts in
terms of desires, hopes, and so on. The key argument here is that human rule-following differs from the following of rules by computers
in that the semantic content has a causal role in the bringing about of what one does [h]. Strictly, computers do not 'follow' rules at all;
only human behaviour is meaningful. (Searle compares the implementation of a formal computer program to the manipulation of
Chinese symbols by a person who has no understanding of the language.)
[3] Freedom. [MLS, ch. 4.] While it is true, he says, that the surface features of the world are both caused by and are realized in
microstructures different levels of atoms, molecules, neurons, etc. (he calls this 'bottom-up' explanation), he argues also for 'top-down'
causation from the mind to the body. We intend, decide to perform particular actions. However, top-down causation works only
because it is already grounded in neurophysiology. So how can there be room for or belief in 'freedom of the will'? Searle's suggestion is
that our conviction of freedom is inseparable from our consciousness that we engage in intentional voluntary actions . The evidence
available suggests that the hypothesis of psychological determinism is false. Radical libertarianism, however, is ruled out by the bottom-
up approaches of physical explanation. Freedom has to operate within a restricted framework. But in the last analysis, Searle admits
that his own approach does not overcome the gap between the causes of one's decision in the form of beliefs and desires and the actual
decision, and the gap between the decision and the performance of an action [a]: "It remains an unsolved problem in philosophy how
there can be freedom of the will, given that there are no corresponding gaps in the brain" [MLS, p. 107].

SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY/ METHODOLOGY

[4] [MLS, ch. 5; see also The Construction of Social Reality.] Language for Searle is a social phenomenon and as such provides the
'Background' or network or non-representational abilities in the context of which meanings and mental states of an individual speaker or
hearer can operate [a]. Searle thinks of linguistic rules as relating to individuals in society. The symbols of language are components of
'institutional' facts. So what account does he give of social phenomena? Like psychological phenomena they possess a 'mental' character,
that is, they are aspects of intentionality [b]. Social phenomena are not grounded in micro-level behaviour, primarily because the
concepts that name such phenomena are themselves constituent of them. Thus, money, marriage, property, and modes of behaviour
involving, say, promising, refer to whatever people regard as money, and so on. Thoughts and psychological attitudes belong to the
definitions of such concepts.
Searle argues for a radical discontinuity between the social and natural sciences [c]. There are no systematic correlations between
phenomena identified in social and psychological terms and those identified in physical terms. As social/ psychological categories are
physically open-ended (there is no physical limit to what we stipulate to be, for example, money), there are no 'bridge principles'
between social and physical features of the world; and indeed there cannot be, because there is an indefinite range of stimulus conditions
for social concepts.

ETHICS NATURALISM
[5] In his moral philosophy Searle draws on distinctions already made in his philosophy of language and society. As against both
emotivists and prescriptivists, he argues in favour of a descriptivist and naturalist (and 'realist') view of moral judgements. For
him 'evaluative' emotivism and 'factual' descriptivism are not reconcilable. Those who have made this distinction have conflated the
distinction between various kinds of illocutionary force and utterances which make truth claims are which are are mattrers of opinion.
The job of language (in the form of moral judgements) is to describe real values and obligations and which are part of the natural
world [a]. He is therefore particularly concerned to undermine his opponents by rejecting the supposed dichotomy between facts and
values and attempting to show that 'ought' can be derived from 'is'[b]. Consider the example of promising. This, Searle argues, is an
institutionalized fact, that is, it exists within a system of constitutive rules that the legitimacy of the inference to 'I ought to do x' is
effected. The only additional statements required in the argument, Searle says, are empirical assumptions, tautologies, and descriptions
of word usage. [See 'How to Derive "Ought" from "Is" '.]

CRITICAL SUMMARY
Searle's writings on a wide range of philosophical issues are characterized by vision and originality combined with acute analysis. Of
particular interest is the emphasis he places on the philosophy of mind as the basis for his views on perception, language, and social
philosophy. The key features are his detailed treatment of the concept of intentionality, his 'bottom-up' account of mental causation as
grounded in but not reducible to micro-physical structures; a rejection of functionalist and materialist accounts of mind and 'strong'
artificial intelligence theories; a modified treatment of Austin's presentation of speech-acts, and the advocacy of the primacy of sense
over reference and acceptance of the 'cluster' theory of descriptions; a view of meaning as based on intentional mental states; an analysis
of social phenomena in terms of psychological attitudes, and his view that there is radical methodological discontinuity between the
social and the natural sciences; and his attempt to overcome the fact-value distinction in ethics.
Understandably critical attacks have come from many directions. Some of the more serious objections are as follows.
(1) Language. Searle's account of speech-acts probably marks an improvement on Austin's in that Searle argues that a satisfactory theory
of meaning requires an analysis not only of their use (speaker's meaning) in speech-acts (intentions) but also the of semantic rules
followed in use (sentence meaning). Nevertheless some critics have said that this approach is still inadequate in so far as it fails to clarify
what it is to understandlinguistic rules. Searle's espousal of a 'cluster of descriptions' account of names to give sense and fix references
has likewise been criticized on similar grounds by philosophers wedded to extensionalist assumptions and causal theories. Questions can
also been asked about which descriptions are to be included in a cluster, and whether ambiguity can be excluded.
(2) Mind. Searle's apparent claim that the subjective view or first person standpoint is equivalent to consciousness has been questioned.
The issue of 'understanding' has also been raised in relation to his 'Chinese room' analogy. It has been suggested that he seems to
be assuming what is to be proved, namely that a clear indication or criterion is available for determining whether instructions are
understood without being analysable in computational terms. More seriously, some of his opponents reject his claim altogether that
intentionality is the basic or definitive feature of mental states.
(3) Causation and freedom. Searle's biological naturalism, while promising much, arguably does not provide a satisfactory account of the
emergence of freedom though to be fair to him it has to be recognised that he himself considers the problem to be unresolved. A
conscious conviction that we engage in intentional voluntary action does not of itself seem to be philosophically adequate. Likewise his
account of efficient and mental causation may not be as firmly based as one would wish. The analogy of the liquidity of water is not
entirely convincing. As a surface phenomenon it is no doubt correctly explained in terms of physical microstructures. But our perceptual
experience (as a mental state, consciousness) of liquidity, which the analogy is intended to shed light on, seems to remain something of a
mystery.
(4) Ethics/ social philosophy. Searle's attempt to overcome the 'is-ought' dichotomy is commendable but has not satisfied many critics.
They argue that the treatment of promising as an institutionalized fact within a system of constitutive rules, which he claims legitimate
inferences from factual premises to evaluative conclusions, may obscure the 'gap' but does not eliminate it. His commitment to 'real'
values has also been questioned by some philosophers. The notion of institutionalized facts (x counting as y in C) has itself been
criticized and stands or falls with his fundamental concept of collective intentionality. Lastly one might mention that Searle's treatment
of social phenomena would (understandably) be opposed by philosophers who seek to extend covering-law models of explanation to the
social sciences.

KRIPKE
(b. 1940)
ANALYTIC PHILOSOPHY
A child prodigy, Saul Kripke was producing outstanding papers in his teens before completing his formal education in mathematics at
Harvard University. He has taught at Rockefeller, Princeton and Harvard and has held visiting positions at Columbia, Cornell, University
of California at Berkeley and UCLA. He has also been the John Locke Lecturer at Oxford, and from 1977-83 was A. D. White Professor-
at-Large at Cornell. He was appointed Emeritus Professor at Princeton in 1998. Latterly he has been teaching at the CUNY Graduate
Center.

PHILOSOPHY OF LANGUAGE/ METAPHYSICS

[1] Kripke is critical of traditional theories of meaning which appeal to descriptions as providing the 'intension' or 'sense' of terms and
which thereby determine their reference. Likewise he shows little interest in such intensional notions as syntheticity and
analyticity [a]. He is also sceptical about the possibility of understanding meaning in terms of conventional rules [b]. We can never be
certain, he says [Wittgenstein on Rules and Private Language], that a given rule is being followed; its possible applications are always
beyond what has been performed in our linguistic utterances. As for names, he argues that they have reference but strictly no sense or
meaning [c]. They are what he calls rigid designators, not clusters of definite descriptions (which are 'non-rigid' designators) [Naming
and Necessity]. By 'rigid designators' he means that names refer to the same thing regardless of any changes in circumstances: they refer
to the same object in all possible worlds whatever descriptions might apply. The concept of a rigid notion is thus
a modal one [c]. So, for example, Aristotle could have been the teacher of some person other than Alexander and yet still have been
Aristotle. What then justifies the claim that names are rigid designators? Kripke appeals to a causal theory of reference and
to essentialism (which is reflected in his attempts to work out a semantics for modal logic). What belongs uniquely to an individual
entity is its 'essence', that is, its origin, the matter it is composed of, or its internal structure (which might be common to all individuals of
a given class, such as humans, tables, pieces of gold, that is, 'natural kinds'). Names, he thinks, may be initially 'fixed' by descriptions
and are then related to objects by means of 'causal chains' [d]. However Aristotle might change (in a given possible world) the causal
links to his original 'essence' (presumably possessed at birth) permit the ascription to him of the same name.
It follows from Kripke's thesis that statements of identity are necessarily true. An example is 'Phosphorus is Hesperus'. Each term
designates the same object rigidly in all situations, although different descriptions may be applied 'the morning star' and 'the evening
star' respectively. Now, because it is through observation that this is discovered Kripke is led to the claim that such truths are also a
posteriori (other examples are 'gold is the element with the atomic number 79', 'water is H 2O'). He also argues that there are contingent a
priori truths [e]. For example, it is a contingent fact that the rod in Paris which was adopted as the standard metre might not have been 1
metre long (perhaps because of physical conditions), but we know a priori that the standard metre is 1 metre long because 'Rod R is 1
metre long' fixes the reference.
[2] A further illustration of Kripke's essentialism is afforded by his support for a real distinction between mental and physical
states [Naming and Necessity, Lecture III]. A mental state such as pain, he says, cannot be identical with a physical state because it is an
essential feature of pain that it has 'its immediate phenomenological quality'. This feeling capacity is absent from purely physical
processes. However, he does not subscribe to any traditional Cartesian type substance dualism, principally on the grounds that if the
mind or soul were a genuinely independent, subsistent, spiritual entity there would seem to be no reason why it should have any
necessary connection with particular material objects (such as a particular sperm or egg). Indeed, according to Kripke, the fact that it is
difficult to imagine that a given person could have originated from a different sperm and egg (he appeals here to his theory of rigid
designation) suggests that we have no clear conception of a soul or self. In the last analysis, however, he admits to finding the mind-body
problem as wide open and confusing [a].

CRITICAL SUMMARY
The key features of Kripke's contribution to the philosophy of language are (1) his account of names as rigid designators and not clusters
of definite descriptions; and (2) his view that there are necessary a posteriori and contingent a priori truths. Both these claims are
contentious and continue to be debated vigorously.
(1) Some philosophers have questioned what the referent of a rigid designator actually is what the 'essential' properties of an
individual are, whereby, for example, Aristotle would have been the same individual even if, per contra, he had not been the tutor of
Alexander but, say, the tutor of the Emperor of China. Appeals to origins, internal structure, and the like might be supposed to lead to an
infinite regress. Critics have argued that once 'Aristotle' has been associated with a particular cluster of descriptions a different set must
refer to a different individual (without committing us to any denial of freedom of choice whether this is so is of course itself
questionable).
(2) Kripke's acceptance of necessary a posteriori truths is closely connected with the concept of the rigid designator. Since the object
referred to by the rigid designators 'Hesperus' and 'Phosphorus' is, according to Kripke, necessarily self-identical, the identity statement
is a posteriori necessary. However, it might be countered that necessity for Kripke is de re and not de dicto; and while the discovery that
Hesperus and Phosphorus are both names for the same object Venus is an empirical one, it can still be argued that
the statement 'Hesperus is Phosphorus' is a priori necessary in the de dicto sense, Kripke's 'necessity' not being applicable to statements.
It is because a given truth may be supposed to be de re necessary that the language in which the truth is communicated is de
dicto necessary: but the latter is then known a priori given, pace Kripke, that proper names have 'meanings' or can be expressed as
meaningful definite descriptions.