Conversations about Lesson 7: A comment on a comment

Dear Reader

This post I have published in response to a comment to my last post. So, if you take a genuine interest in following the conversation please read that post (Lesson 7) first and then also read the comment by Anonymous. After that it will be reasonably safe to continue herewith.

Anonymous, regarding your very sophisticated desire to draw a distinction between meaning and determinacy, by challenging whether it is true that assertions need to be determinate to be meaningful (in the strict sense of the word, of course) I respond thus: By way of example you have given the possibility of observation influencing, on a sub-atomic level, the length of a piece of string. If I understand correctly, this would then alter the very thing being observed and therefore, in a nearly ironic way, making observation (verification) both the vehicle for meaning and simultaneously the underminer of meaning, because it changes that which is observed.

I would have to agree that in the strictest and most technical sense this sub-atomic change, if such a thing even does happen, may at first seem to pose a conundrum for semantic theory if it is verificationist by nature. However, my suggestion is this: The conundrum is more one for the scientists; who presumably are looking for exact descriptions for the objects and phenomena of the real world. Things changing on a sub-atomic level matters for a scientist, but does it matter for a linguist? Even for a verificationist linguist? When we look at linguistic behaviour, we must concede that most of referencing to the world happens on a supra-atomic level (unless we are intentionally making reference to actual sub-atomic structure and behaviour, of course). This would certainly be the case with an assertion about a piece of string which goes, "This piece of string exists". Such an assertion, I think you will agree, does not make refernce to the identity of a piece of string on a sub-atomic level. So, if there is a piece of string which can provide the truth conditions for the above statement, at the moment of speaking, then that is all that counts for a normal speaker. However, if a scientist says that "This piece of string exists" and on attempting to test such a hypothesis finds that, on every testing, the atoms are diminished, then my heart goes out to her. She is dealing either with an issue of identity (Is it still the same piece of string?) or she is dealing with a new phenomena (Do things change when observed?). But how will she ever know? It's a scientific problem but not a linguistic one. The study of science and language must come apart, you see.

But where semantic theory must stay true to verification is in the way that if an assertion is indeterminate (if there cannot exist knowable truth conditions for it) then it must deem the assertion meaningless- as in contentless. However, we should not get too concerned with the term meaningless either. It is not intended as grimly as it may come across.

And, dear and most beloved Anonymous, what to say about the repeatability of verification/falsification? Your questions are challenging, indeed. Let it just suffice to say that, according to something like a verificationist theory of meaning the meaning of assertions are best measured in the moment of articulation. Verification theory is problematic when it tries to comment of assertions made about the past or future, of course. This in itself, even without the possible non-repeatability of verification, poses a problem. Just verb tenses alone pose a problem. And I think the non-repeatability of verification (if and when this be the case) holds similar, but not exactly symmetrical problems, for the semantic theorist. The best way to address your question (and you ask this with the best of them, I assure you) would be to see 'meaning making' as a linguistic activity with overwhelmingly temporally based qualities.

Perception as context bound (so exceedingly astute as always, Anonymous): We know that Locke too made much of the fact that perception is conceptually loaded and that there simply is no overarching objective view point by which we can know the world around us. In other words, in the case of linguistic theory, an objective viewing of conditions which would make our assertions true. The bearer of the content of our language. We do seem to be compelled to accept that we simply cannot prove or demonstrate (except maybe by way of deduction, but this will not solve the problem will it?) that we have unbiased access to matters of fact. And this, undoubtedly, does not bode well for the verificationist. But I think this problem is sidestepped, and not just with the practice of some Sophistry, by remebering that we are busy with a meta-discourse here. In other words, we are attempting to lay out the principles for how meaning is imported into language. The task is not to actually import the meaning but to suggest that the content of our assertions, particularly if the assertions are making literal refernce to a world of mind independent objects and properties, is best seen as derived from the world to which it is making reference. This seems a priori true. If we are making reference to an objectively existing world the the content of our referncing assertions should be derived from such a world and we, in principle, we should at the very least expect to have access to the world we so gibly make reference to. If it turns out that Locke, and yourself dearest Anonymous, are right about possibly not having access to an independently existing world then this should not alter the requirements for meaning, I think. It merely says that most of what we do when we speak is misguided. But we should not lower the bar for meaning just because we cannot know whether we are able to achieve it.

Ah, the contstructivists. What to say about such a group of deserters? I ask this: Is it good and right to resort to saying that reality consists entirely as an extension of the human (and other thinking things') mind because one feels a bit despondent of the possibility of knowing an independently existing reality? To each his own, I suppose. My suggestion is that we remain agnostics about the existence of an external world. For the very reasons that yourself and John Locke mention in the previous question. And, constructivists being what they are, are not always very clear or very unified (but the latter should not be held against them- even though the first should) about what is they advocate. So, I caution the reader here: Some constructivists maintain that there are matters of fact which exist independently of our minds, but as we have no access to these (and this seems a priori true) such facts are irrelevant. And some say that there simply is (as in does not exists at all) matters of fact beyond what has been constructed by our minds. You will, I hope, agree that these are two different stand points, with enormously different further entailments. My comment to the first standpoint is that those matters of fact beyond our grasp are only irrelevant if completely ignored- in other words, not ever made reference to. But we know that this simply is not the case, which makes them very relevant and extremely problematic too. To the second standpoint I answer thus: Who knows? But I think it unlikely.

Once again, most admired Anonymous, your conversation is awesome- in the strictest sense of the word.

And so we reach the end of this. Till later.

Lesson 7: An argument for epistemically constrained truth

The first task at hand is to create a firm distinction between truth and matters of fact. Without this distinction the argument will fail.

Let us take truth to be the status that a sentence, or more specifically an assertion, has when it has accurately denoted a certain, and intended, state of affairs in the world. So an assertion is, by virtue of either achieving or not in a certain way, either true or false. This makes the the metaphysics of truth or falsity similar to that of a measurement, maybe. A meter does not exist as an object in its own right. It can only be understood as the property of an object, e.g. a piece of string being a meter long. Meter lengths presuppose something which can be that length. In the same way truth presupposes something which can be true (or false). Truth and falsity cannot exist as objects on their own. And the correct objects for having the property of being either true or false are assertions.

Matters of fact are states of affairs in the world. Matters of fact are the objects and the properties of such objects which make up reality as it is, whether we are realist or contructivists about this reality. Matters of fact are the chairs, tables, planets and Platonic Forms which make up reality. Matters of fact are also the the way these things are, such as tables and chairs being made of wood or plastic and belonging to the class of things called 'furniture'. It is a matter of fact that planets are round and have orbits and moons of their own. Matters of fact form the content (referents) of our assertions, whether true or not. I think most will agree that it is fully posible that there exist matter of fact of which we have no knowledge at any given moment in time. There must be planets we do not know about. Maybe Plato was right about Forms.

Now, dear reader, how do 'truth' and 'matters of fact' relate to each other. Remember 'truth' is the status that an assertion can have it meets certain criteria, and 'matters of fact' is the content of an assertion- what it is making reference to. The relationhip is that an assertion is 'true' if it has correctly denoted the intended 'matters of fact'. We have agreed that the existence of matter of fact are not contrained by our knowledge thereof. Things do exist without us knowing of such things. However, can the same be said about 'truth'? Can truth trancend knowledge?

If there were to be a piece of string floating about in the ether. But this piece of string was not visible to the ordinary senses of man. Let us imagine that a claim is being made that that piece of string is a meter long. It has the property of being a meter long. But that it cannot, due to its extraordinary extra-sensory nature, be tracked nor measured. How would you regard claims that this piece of string is a meter long? You might, like me, dear reader, think that 'meter', being an artificial construct entirely dependent on human endeavours and concepts, is better utilised as a practical, determinable property of objects, rather than understood as an hypothetical property which a piece of string may or may not have. You may think, why even bother to state that something is a meter long when it is immeasurable? There is nothing a priori wrong with doing this, of course, because it is possible that, completely by chance, the state of affairs which need to exist in the world which would render the claim true does exists. But making claims that something is meter long knowing full well that it cannot be meaured does seem, at least, a little platitudinous and, at most, an entirely meaningless way of looking at the concept of 'meter'.

My suggestion is that 'truth' should be treated, as with the concept of 'meter', as a practical and workable, and therefore knowable, property of assertions as 'meter' is a measurable property of pieces of string. It is commonly accepted by most philosophers that to assert is to state as true. But if this is done with the full knowledge that the truth status of an assertion can never be determined (known), this must make asserting, in cases which are not constrained by knowledge, a vacuous activity.

So, above is my reason for why 'truth' is better understood as constrained by knowledge. Do you agree? Next time we look at what the realists and anti-realists say about this.

Lesson 6: The beginnings of an argument for why truth should be evidentially constrained.

Now, it is true, and anyone would be a fool for not conceding, that there must be things out there that are not known to the human mind. For one, time and the history of human enquiry, both formal and informal, have proven this to be so. If one were to be reasonable it would seem quite feasible to assume that there must be more such facts that will be discovered in the furture, and that when these are to be discovered they are found to have existed long before the event of their discovery. The Earth being flat we take to be such a discovery. And we assume that the Earth did not only become flat when it was found to be so (but, naturally, we cannot be completely sure about this either). The Earth was flat preceding the knowledge of this fact. In other words, the metaphysics preceded the epistemology of this state of affairs.

Taking the assertion, "The earth is flat", to have meaning according to the logical positivists based on the fact that it can be shown to be either contingently true or false.

Now, what would happen if someone quite brilliant suggested that they are willing to concede that certain statements have no meaning according the criteria for meaning forwarded by the positivists, but would like to maintian that truth can nevertheless be evidence transcendent. Their reason for this being that there simply are certain things which are, at any given moment in time, beyong human cognition and recognition. This entails that all assertions about the world, despite the truth conditions for these assertions being unavailable to human perception and comprehension, are either true or false. It is after all the state of affairs in the world which either make the assertions true or false and not our subjective opinions.

However, the proponents of evidence transcendent truth are forced to conclude, if truth conditions are what import meaning to assertions, and these conditions are unavailable to human cognition, that meaning is imported independently of speakers knowing what they are speaking of. In other words, if truth is sometimes evidence transcendent, and meaning presupposes truth conditions, then meaning is sometimes transcendent of human comprehension and understanding. So, meaning is not a human activity as it is not constrained by human knowledge but rather yielded by the world out there. In short, meaning, sometimes, comes from somewhere else. Presumably, from the same place as truth comes from.

I leave you here for now, but with this difficult question about meaning. Can the meaning which our assertions carry be imported by facts in the world which we have no access to? Because, if the answer to this question is affrimative, this would have to entail that the source of language (the human mind) is independent to the source of meaning (the world).

Lesson 5: Why realism needs truth to be evidence transcendent.

So, dear Reader, here we are again. It has been a while. Apologies. So many words and so little time.

Maybe a speedy revisit of where we left off: The Logical Positivists, enthralled by Hume’s distinction between two forms of knowledge and, therefore, two ways in which things can be true, decided that the meaning of propositions must be constrained by these two forms of truth. In other words, they proposed, that there were only two ways in which statements could have meaning. The first is that it can be shown that they refer to traceable objects in, and properties of, the real world. It is this theoretical position, the requirement of a direct and knowable relationship between the world and the language we use to speak of that world, which made them verificationists about meaning. The second way in which a proposition can have meaning is if does so by definition alone. In other words, there need be no traceable referencing to the observable world, but the proposition must be true by some sort of logical necessity. For examples please refer back to previous lessons.

But now there arises a slight problem. If you are a metaphysician and, for instance, some of your conclusions about the nature of reality refer to things which are not traceable, such as ‘free will’, then your propositions stand at risk of being regarded meaningless by verificationist types of theorists about meaning. Show me the free will you so lavishly speak of, they would say. Or, at least, describe to me what it would seem like if I found it. How would it behave, in what causal relationships would it be partaking, how would I recognise it, and it alone, if I were to find it? Please note, dear Reader, that verificationists do not require that all referents be observed and verified, merely observable and verifiable. Testable is the closest scientific term to this.

Now, let us imagine that I am a realist about certain objects such as chairs, tables and human beings. I am also a realist about some of their properties. I maintain that chairs and tables are a certain way in reality, irrespective how they are perceived to be. In other words, they have mind independent properties. Let us say that I maintain that they have the property of extension. I also maintain that human beings have the property of having free will. It is, thus, true of human beings that they have free will irrespective of the perception or opinion there may be of such things. Free will is real. If I were a moral realist I would hold that moral values are real (mind independent) properties of certain actions. It is the moral task of persons to either trace them correctly or not.

But if I want to maintain that free will is a real property of human beings I must be able to show, verify, this to be the case in order to make my proposition true. But what if I cannot do this? Well, the realist is compelled to say, then there is always the option of arguing the case. I can forward lavish arguments, working with intricate definitions of what humans are and what free will is taken to be and, by certain strokes of deductive genius, I could demonstrate, in a similar way to how mathematical proofs work, that humans can be reasoned to have free will. I can say, for instance: All animals with human brains have free will. All humans have human brains. Therefore, all humans have free will.

Perfect! Or not? Even though the deduction is perfect this certainly, I hope you agree, does not get us to having to accept that it has now been proven that humans actually have free will. So, what oh what, does the realist do then. He so wants to make his claim and for it to have, at least, a possibility of being true. He then appeals to another notion of truth. He says that it is quite possible that his claim could be true and that the speaker of that claim has no manner of knowing that he has spoken a truth. In other words, it is possible to say that it is now 12 o’ clock, even though I have no knowledge of the time, and nevertheless be saying a true thing. So, truth, the realist says, can transcend knowledge. Truth is, therefore, not constrained by knowledge. Furthermore, this take on truth is supported by logic in its classical form, holding that all propositions must either be true or false. And, of course, if truth is not something which depends on speaker knowledge (or even the possibility of it) then it certainly is the case that any propositions whatsoever, will in an ultimate sense, be either true or false. Regardless of human endeavours, successful or not, to know whether it is true or false.

And accepting this position on evidence transcendent truth means that propositions can have meaning based in their conditions for truth, just like the verificationists would have it, but with the one significant difference being that the meaning making criteria for some propositions have nothing to do with the speaker knowledge of the content of that proposition. Because truth is something derived from realms often unavailable to human cognition.

What do you think of evidence transcendent truth?

The Wealth of Nations: Trade port size and specialisation

In Chapter Three Smith discusses, by way of many apt examples, the various influences on the size of trading stations. He looks at different areas in the world, such as the coasts around Africa, Asia and the Mediteranean, to illustrate how the particular features of a geographical landscape, with special focus on waterways and coastlines, influence the agricultural trading and other trading of that area. The Mediteranean sea, with its temperate weather, calm seas and textured coastline lends itself to the establishment of several ports. This, to quite a large degree, gave rise to the successful economic growth of Europe, according to Smith.

But the conceptual link between the size and frequency of trade centres only has bearing on the success of an economy via the notion of differentiation and specialisation. Thus, the central point of the chapter is not that geography has everything to do with how places of trade develop, but rather that if a trading centre, or market place is not adequately large it cannot support the ever important criterion for a healthy economy- specialisation.

It seems to be key, when reading Adam Smith, to bear in mind, at all times, that The Wealth of Nations offers a case for something like a fair and just society. His arguments seem always to be aimed at persuading the reader that healthy, successful and sustainable (to borrow from more current terminology) economies are ones which are egalitarian at their very foundations. Even when he is not stating this overtly the objectives are covert and made explicit again, when necessary, to drive home the point.

The tenet, for his overall argument- the book, which this chapter raises and defends is, therefore, that unless a reasonably large amount of people are living and working in close proximity to each other then specialisation will be impossible. This is for the obvious reason that, unless there is someone who is fulfilling a particular function within a community then someone else must do this. So, by way of example, if a community does not have someone who is a weaver then someone else, whose first choice and practice is not weaving will have to fulfill this function. Thus diluting his skills and productivity by forcing him to do too many things. A larger population, comprising a great variation of skills strengthens the trading potential of that community.

Which Smith, no doubt, holds as better for the survival of that economy and the further development of that community.

The Wealth of Nations: Differences and Trading

The next chapter of the book sees an argument for why there exists a natural inclination for man to want to specialise. Smith was, so it is said, from the empiricist mould so prevalent in Britian at the time. A contemporay of Hume's and, therefore, more than likely, theoretically aligned with philosophers such as Mill and Locke, he would have been interested in justifying his free trade theory by way of appealing to observable human nature. The British empiricists, whether they were doing moral or political philosophy were basically reductionist in their thinking. This means, for the new comer to this blog, that one category of facts (or even values) is reduced to some other category of facts. So, in economical theory, a person such as Smith- being both empiricist and reductionist- would have wanted to justify his reasons for why there should be specialisations based on the fact that human can be observed to be naturally predisposed to behaving in such a manner. And this inclination, Smith would want to say, is more than likely founded on the basic drive for survival (personal and then species).

This then is exactly what Smith does in his second chapter. He maintains that it is our predisposition to survival which has us specialising in our various occupations, as it is quite evident that in this way everyone has a better chance at thriving. Recall, dear reader, he has already explained the increase in efficiancy in his previous chapter. Furthermore, he says that our specific talents that we develop, which then give rise to what we choose to specialise in, are not based in inherent predispositions but rather by the way in which we are socialised as children. Smith seems keen to endorse that it is nurture and not nature which determines our talents and, therefore, our eventual occupations and trades. But the important point here is that no one specialises for morally based reasons of charity or philanthropy. Smith, subscribing once again to his empiricist leanings, and more than likely (but here I draw assumptions) also to some sort of Millsian psychological hedonism, will reason that all human action aimed at cooperation is not done for reasons of goodness or rightness, in the sense of moral virtue, but is rather based in utilitarian motivations of self interest.

Ah, it is so nice when a plan comes together. It is perfect when ideas fit so well.

However, the question that Smith will have to answer still is this. It is the same question as posed to him in my previous posting, but rephrased so as to incorporate our new vocabulary as we learn more about his wonderful theory. If it is agreed that humans cooperate for reasons of self interest then how will he explain the tendency (inclinations and predispositions) for humans to do the very things he will be arguing against? How does he explain, if not as immoral in the strict non-reductionist sense of the word, the existence of monopolies, duopolies and oligarchies?

On The Hurt Locker

Is it not incredible how wonderfully convincing the facade of objectivity can be. Imagine this, dear reader: A director decides to comment on the tragedy of war. But her objectives are not to comment just on the tragedy of war in general, but more specifically on the insanity of guerilla warfare motivated by religious fundamentalism. However, she knows that the topic is contentious and she knows that the position she wants to occupy is politically incorrect. (The irony of this change in public sentiment is too painfully embarrassing to even comment on here, and is not part of the point I try and make, so I shall resist the temptation of further reflection on this.)

On account of her designs to extoll the virtues of Western ideals about liberty, democracy and individuation she strategises that the best way to achive this is to demonstrate the cruelty of a backward type of people towards its own citizens. This, she reasons, would make explicit the righteousness of military occupation in a country which, evidently, needs to be liberated from its own politics. But how to do this without coming across as a Eurocentric fascist?

The first part of the strategy is to create a story wherein it may seem as if the setting of the war in Irag is merely incidental to the story. One takes the politics out of the plot and makes it entirely about a personal experience. So, one scripts it around a character, a bomb deactivator with the sort of devil may care attitude which results in him being a liability to his own men. So he is not perfect. But, dear reader of this blog and viewer of the film, this is merely a red herring. The story can so easily seem as if it is a cameo of a character. However, even though he continously disobeys orders, risking many lives in doing so, he never fails at his task and no one ever dies at the hand of his personal dissidence. Thuis enabling the viewers to keep close to their hearts this beguiling and intriguiging character as a true hero (and anti-hero- she covers all her bases).

That then is the facade of the movie: A touching story of a malfunctioning individual who has become, also, addicted to war.

Why then my insinuations that this story is nothing more than a cover for American and British pro war propaganda? Well, the other bits of the story, which come at one nearly in a subliminal sort of way, so disguised are they by the cameo aspect of the story, are presented as the following scenes: The only Iraqis, in the entire movie, who die at the hands of American and British soldiers are so tiny on the screen that the movie adopts a nearly computer game sort of feeling of dissasociation. This prevents any chance of developing a relationship with the victims. This scene is also conveniently set in a desert, so that none of the Iraqi family members need be traumatised by the loss of their men folk. Of course, there are other Iraqis who do die. They, on the other hand, are introduced properly. The close ups, the dialogue and the settings being a little more domestic affords the unsuspecting viewer plenty of opportunity to develop sympathy for these characters. However, lo and behold, these characters are only ever victims of their own peoples' actions. I think of the poor man at the end begging the American bomb deactivator to remove the bombs from him that have been strapped to his body against his will. Our hero risks his life for this man but, alas, is unable to assist him. The feeling one is expected to be left with must surely be something like the renewed horror of such strange and barbaric methods of warfare. The other scene which comes to mind is the body of child which has been used to contain a bomb, the child's life having been sacrificed for this purpose, once again, by his own people. Of course, the hero discovers this bomb and is, for once, moved to some display of emotion. The pertinence of this display of emotion, which he could not even muster for his own child when back at home, drives home further the message of the righteousness of American occupation of a country which is clearly in need of help. Not only political help but, evidently, also moral help. And then, not least of all, there is the classic scene, appealing to the stored up communal sentiments we all have about boys playing with balls and soldiers being only human after all. An American soldier befriends a little Iraqi boy and it is this very Iraqi boy that the bomb deactovator hero anti-hero believes is the mutilated body containing the live bomb. The important part of this side plot is that it is the American soldier befriending the boy, and other American who risks his life trying to get a bomb from the boy's body, despite the fact that he is already dead. Yet, it was suspected for quite some time, and by way of many dramatic heroic actions, that it was the boy's old Iragi custodian who sold him into the position for having a bomb planted into his body. The suggestion was made, the damage is done. We all know how propaganda works.

There was not one aspect of the movie which could save itself from being accused of being shamefully biased and laced with all the wrong messages. If the claim is that the context was incidental and maybe even accidental, then I want to finish by saying that, in situations when the current wars need to be deeply questioned, the dominance of the Western ideology and politics needs to challenged and when, specific, promises are being made to evacuate Iraq, producers and directors of films should employ the age old literary device of appealing to a neutral context. That is if they genuinely were not intending to make a movie aimed at insiduous propaganda. And then, in that way, one would not put oneself in line for making so many mistakes.