Month: March 2011

The Foolishness of Envy

You envy me?  What a wretch you must be to feel diminished in your sense of self-worth by comparison to me!  I have something you lack?  Why isn't that compensated for by what you have that I lack?  You feel bad that I have achieved something by my hard work?  Don't you realize that you waste time and energy by comparing yourself to me, time and energy that could be used to improve your own lot?

Do you think you can add one cubit to your stature by tearing me down?  Have you never heard The Parable of the Tree and the House?

You ought to feel bad, not that I do well, but that you are so willfully stupid.  Vices vitiate; they weaken.  You weaken yourself and make yourself even more of a wretch by indulging in envy.

Companion posts:  Envy, Jealousy, Schadenfreude.  Schadenfreude With a Twist

A Divine Activity

Philosophy is a divine activity because only a god has the time and the peace of mind for it. The full-time mortal, embroiled in the flux and shove of material life, is too much in need of guiding convictions to be much of a pursuer of the impersonal truth.

In auspicious circumstances, with the right interlocutors, or embraced in the bliss of solitude, the mortal ascends for a time into the ether of pure thought and becomes for a time a god, a part-time god.

But although philosophy is god-like, God himself has no need for it.  Wisdom itself, in plenary possession of itself, needn't seek itself. It is itself.

De Dicto/De Re

In the course of thinking about the de dicto/de re distinction, I pulled the Oxford Companion to Philosophy from the shelf and read the eponymous entry. After being told that the distinction "seems to have first surfaced explicitly in Abelard," I was then informed that the distinction occurs:

     . . . in two main forms: picking out the difference between a
     sentential operator and a predicate operator, between 'necessarily
     (Fa)' and 'a is (necessarily-F)' on the one hand, and on the other
     as a way of highlighting the scope fallacy in treating necessarily
     (if p then q) as if it were (if p then necessarily-q).

It seems to me that this explanation leaves something to be desired. I have no beef with the notion that the first distinction is an example of a de dicto/de re distinction. To say of a dictum that it is   necessarily true if true is different from saying of a thing (res) that it has a property necessarily. Suppose a exists in some, but not all, possible worlds, and that a is F in every possible world in which it exists. Then a is necessarily F, F in every possible world in which it exists. But since there are possible worlds in which a does not exist, then it will be false that 'a is F' is necessarily true, true
in all possible worlds.  So the de dicto 'Necessarily, a is F' is distinct from the de re 'a is necessarily F.'

So far, so good. But the distinction between

1. Nec (if p then q)

   and

2. If p, then Nec q

is situated entirely on the de dicto plane, the plane of dicta or propositions. The distinction between (1) and (2) is the well-known  distinction between necessitas consequentiae and necessitas consequentiis. To confuse (1) and (2) is to confuse the necessity of the consequence with the necessity of the consequent. Or you could think of the mistake as a scope fallacy: the necessity operator in (1) has wide scope whereas the operator in (2) has narrow scope. But what makes (2) de re? What is the res in question? Consider an example:

3. Necessarily, if a person takes Enalapril, then he takes an ACE inhibitor

does not entail

4. If a person takes Enalapril, then necessarily he takes an ACE  inhibitor.

A second example:

5. Necessarily, if something happens, then something happens

does not entail

6. If something happens, then necessarily something happens.

It can't be that easy to prove fatalism. The point, however, is that the distinction between (5) and (6) does not trade on the distinction between dicta and rei, between propositions and non-propositions: the  distinction is one of the scope of a propositional operator.  Our author thus seems wrongly to assimilate the above scope fallacy to a de dicto/de re confusion.

I conclude that the de dicto/de re distinction is a bit of a terminological mess. And note that it is a mess even when confined to the modal context as demonstrated above. If we try to apply the  distinction univocally across modal, doxastic, temporal, and other  contexts we can expect an even bigger mess. A fit topic for a future  post.

Terminological fluidity is a problem in philosophy.  It always has been and always will be.  For attempts at regimentation and standardization harbor philosophical assumptions and biases — which are themselves fit fodder for philosophical scrutiny.

Cf. Notes on Philosophical Terminology and its Fluidity

Russellian Propositions and the ‘He Himself’ Locution

Commenting on an earlier post of mine, Peter Lupu brought up some themes from David Kaplan which were not quite relevant but interesting nonetheless.   In my response I pointed out that Kaplan is committed to Russellian (R) as opposed to Fregean (F) propositions whereas the problem I had posed presupposes that propositions are Fregean.  In this post I will do three things.  I will first explain the difference between R- and F-propositions and give an argument against R-propositions.  Then I will explain the 'he himself' locution which Hector-Neri Castaneda brought to our attention back in the '60s.  Finally, I will explain how the 'he himself' locution is further evidence that propositions cannot be Russellian.  And since propositions cannot be Russellian, they cannot be introduced in solution of the problem I raised in the earlier post.

Russellian Versus Fregean Propositions

1. One issue in the philosophy of language is whether singular terms (including pure indexicals, demonstratives, proper names) refer directly or whether they refer via some descriptive meaning that they encapsulate.  The issue is not whether a word like 'I' — the first-person singular pronoun used indexically, not the Roman numeral or the first-person pronoun used nonindexically — has a meaning apart from its reference.  Of course it does.  The meaning of 'I' — its character in Kaplan's jargon — is given by the rule that uttered tokens of 'I' refer to the speaker.  The issue is whether the reference of a singular term is routed through its descriptive meaning.  For example, when Tom says 'I' he refers to Tom.  But is Tom's self-reference routed through any descriptive meaning of 'I'? It should be obvious that Tom's use of 'I' does not target Tom specifically in virtue of the Kaplanian content of 'I.'  For that is quite general.  So if there is a sense of 'I' that mediates Tom's self-reference, it will have to be a special 'I'-sense, a special mode of presentation (Frege:  Darstellungsweise). 

Now if there are terms that refer directly, without the mediation of a Fregean sense (Sinn), then the sentences in which such terms occur express Russellian propositions.  R-propositions involve individuals directly rather than indirectly by way of an abstract representative as in F-propositions.  So if 'Tom is tall' expresses an R-proposition, then Tom himself, all 200 lbs of him, is a constituent of the proposition, along with the property that the sentence predicates of him.  Such a proposition could be represented as an ordered pair the first member of which is Tom and the second the property of being tall.  But if the sentence  expresses an F-proposition, then Tom himself is not a constituent of it. Instead, the sense of 'Tom' goes proxy for Tom in the F-proposition.

Suppose t is a directly referential term in a sentence S.  T may or may not have a meaning apart from its reference.  If S expresses a Russellian-Kaplanian proposition, then the meaning of t — if there is one — is not a constituent of the propositional content of S:  the constituent of the propositional content of S, corresponding to t, is simply the referent  of t.

2.  That there are propositions I take for granted.  We may introduce them  by saying that they are the bearers of the truth-values.  But this leaves open whether they are Russellian or Fregean.  I think there is a good metaphysical reason for not countenancing R-propositions.

3. The metaphysical reason has to do with false R-propositions.  Given that 'Tom is tall' is true, it doesn't strike me as problematic to say that the world contains, in addition to Tom and the property of being tall, Tom's being tall.  But then  'Tom is short ' is false.  If 'Tom is tall' expresses an R-proposition, then so does 'Tom is short.'  But then the world contains, in addition to Tom and the property of being short, a further entity Tom's being short which has Tom himself as a constituent.  And that does strike me as very problematic.  (And it struck Russell that way too, which is why Russell abandoned Russellian propositions!) For if Tom does not exemplify shortness, then there simply is no such entity as Tom's being short. In other words I have no problem accepting facts such as Tom's being tall assuming that all facts obtain.  But nonobtaining facts such as Tom's being short are a metaphysical monstrosity. 

The 'He Himself' Locution 

4. Castaneda pointed out that one cannot validly move from

1. X judges x to be F
to
2. X judges himself to be F.

(2) entails (1), but (1) does not entail (2).  Unbeknownst to me, a certain document I am inspecting was written by me long ago.  It is possible that I conclude that the author of the document was confused without concluding that I was confused.  (Example adapted from Chisholm.)  In this situation I am an x such that x judges x to be confused, but I am not an x such that x judges himself to be confused.

Given that I am x, there is no distinction between the Russellian proposition which is x's being confused and the one which is my being confused.  For the two R-propositions have the all the same constituents. If propositions are Russellian, then we have to say that 'x judges x to be confused' and 'x judges himself to be confused' express the same proposition.  But obviously they don't.  So propositions aren't Russellian.  Or is that too quick?

Samuelson on Social Security as Middle-Class Welfare

Here.  Excerpt:

Here is how I define a welfare program. First, it taxes one group to support another group, meaning it's pay-as-you-go and not a contributory scheme where people's own savings pay their later benefits. And second, Congress can constantly alter benefits, reflecting changing needs, economic conditions and politics. Social Security qualifies on both counts.

Part of the problem with the SS system is that no one quite agrees on just what it is or is supposed to be.  Some call it a Ponzi scheme. (Steve Forbes, Judge Andrew Napolitano)  But obviously it isn't.  Ponzi schemes are fraudulent in intent by definition.  SS is not.  What Napolitano et al. presumably mean  is that it like a Ponzi scheme in being unsustainable.  But that is not quite right either for it is sustainable if one is willing to do one or more of the following:  raise taxes, limit/postpone benefits, reduce spending in other areas, increase the money supply thereby inflating the currency.

To call the SS system a form of welfare as Robert Samuelson does is closer to the mark but still wide of it.  How can it be called welfare when the recipients of it (most of them anyway) have paid in a lifetime's worth of contributions?  The average hard-working  Joe who has contributed all his life via  payroll taxes will bristle, and with justification, if he is branded a welfare recipient when he retires.  He will insist that he has worked hard and long, and now wants what is due him: the money that was coercively taken from him plus a reasonable return. 

So SS is not a welfare scheme either, Samuelson's slanted definition notwithstanding, though it is like one in some respects.

My understanding is that when it was originally set up,  in the '30s, SS was envisaged as destitution insurance.  The idea was that a decent society does not allow its members to fall into the gutter and eat cat food if through no fault of their own they end up destitute at the end of their lives.  But of course if it is destitution insurance, then, like all insurance, the 'premiums' will be small relative to the payout, and only those who end up destitute would get a payout.  But the system is nothing like this now.  It has transmogrified into a retirement program, but one without individual accounts and the sort of  fiscal discipline that they would bring.

So it's not a Ponzi scheme, not a welfare scheme, and not a form of insurance, if  these terms are used strictly.  (And if you are not using them strictly, then you shouldn't pretend to be contributing to a serious discussion.)  Conceptually, SS is a mess, a mess that aids and abets all the unhelpful rhetoric that we hear on all sides.

If memory serves, Speaker Boehner (before he was speaker) called for means-testing.  The moral absurdity of that should be evident, especially  when espoused by a supposed conservative.  You work hard all your life, you play by the rules, defer gratification, exercise the old virtues, and end up well off.  And now the government penalizes you for having been self-reliant and productive.  Disgusting.  You expect that from a liberal.  But from a conservative?

As one further indication of the conceptual mess that is the SS system, consider that the FICA tax is called a tax.  It is no doubt a coercive taking, but what other kind of tax brings with it an expectation of getting one's money back down the line?  Property owners pay real estate taxes to the county.  But no one who pays these taxes expects to be able to pay a visit to the Assessor's office sometime in the future to recoup what he has paid.  That's not the way a tax works.  So why is the FICA tax called a tax?  This is just another indication of the conceptual obfuscation built into the SS system.

 

From the Inside of a Fortune Cookie

"Mental activity keeps you busy at this time."  Only at this time?

"All happiness is in the mind."  This is an example of a half-truth the believing of which is pragmatically very useful.

"If you chase two rabbits, both will escape."  Reminds me of the Lovin' Spoonful tune Did You Ever Have to Make Up Your MInd?

"If you think you're too small to be effective, you have never been in bed with a mosquito."  Does this have a sexual meaning?

Multiple Universes and Possible Worlds

Tibor Machan makes some obvious but important points about multiple universes.  One is that  there cannot be two or more universes if by 'universe' is meant everything that exists in spacetime.  I would add that this is a very simple conceptual truth, one that we know to be true a priori.  It lays down a contraint that no empirical inquiry can violate on pain of tapering off into nonsense.  So talk of multiple universes, if not logicaly contradictory, must involve an altered, and restricted, use of 'universe.'  But then the burden is on those who talk this way to explain exactly what they mean.

Philosophers often speak of possible worlds.  There is nothing problematic about there being a plurality of possible worlds, indeed an infinity of them.  But there is, and can be, only one actual world.  The actual world is not the same as the physical universe.  For not everything actual is physical.  My consciousness is actual but not physical.  A second reason is that the actual world is a maximal state of affairs, the total way things are.  It is a totality of facts, not of things, as Ludwig the Tractarian once wrote.    But the physical universe is a totality of physical things not of facts. 

For more see Some Theses on Possible Worlds.

Self-Reference and Individual Concepts

The following can happen.  You see yourself but without self-recognition.  You see yourself, but not as  yourself.  Suppose you walk into a room which unbeknownst to you has a mirror covering the far wall.  You are slightly alarmed to see a wild-haired man with his fly open approaching you.  You are looking at yourself but you don't know it.  (The lighting is bad, you've had a few drinks . . . .) You think to yourself

1. That man has his fly open!
but not
2. I have my fly open!

Now these propositions — assuming they are propositions — are obviously different.  For one thing, they have different behavioral consequences.  I can believe the first without taking action with respect to my fly, or any fly.  (I'm certainly not going to go near the other guy's fly.)  But if I believe the second I will most assuredly button my fly, or pull up my zipper.

So it seems clear that (1) and (2) are different propositions.  I can believe one without believing the other.  But how can this be given the plain fact that 'that man' and 'I' refer to the same man?  Both propositions predicate the same property of the same subject.  So what makes them distinct propositions?

I know what your knee-jerk response will be.  You will say that, while 'I' and 'that man' have the same referent, they differ in sense just like 'Hesperus' and 'Phosphorus.'  Just as one can believe that Hesperus is F without believing that Phosphorus is F despite the identity of the two, one can believe that (1) without believing that (2) despite the fact that the subject terms are coreferential.

The trouble with this response is that it requires  special 'I'-senses, and indeed a different one for each user of the first-person singular pronoun.  These go together with special 'I'-propositions which are a species of indexical proposition.  When I believe that I am F, I refer to myself via a special Fregean sense which has the following property: it is necessarily a mode of presentation of me alone.  We can also think of this 'I'-sense as an individual concept or haecceity-concept.  It is a concept such that, if it is instantiated, it is instantiated (i) by me, (ii) by nothing distinct from me, (iii) and by the same person in every possible world in which it is instantiated.

But what on earth (or on Twin Earth) could this concept be, and how could I grasp it?  The concept has to 'pin me down' in every possible world in which I exist.  It has to capture my very thisness, or, in Latin, my haecceitas.  But a better Latin word is ipseitas, ipseity, selfhood, my being a self, this one and no other.    In plain old Anglo-Saxon it is the concept of me-ness, the concept of being me.

The theory, then, is that my awareness that

3. I am that man!

consists in my awareness that the concept expressed by 'I' and the concept expressed by 'that man' are instantiated by one and the same individual.  But this theory is no good because, even if my use of 'I' expresses an haecceity-concept, that is not a concept I can grasp or understand.  Maybe God can grasp my haecceity, but I surely can't.  Individuum ineffabile est said the Scholastics, echoing Aristotle. No finite mind can 'eff' the ineffable.  The individual in his individuality, in his very haecceity and ipseity, is ineffable.

Self-reference is not routed though sense, however things may stand with respect to other-reference.  When I refer to myself using the first-person singular pronoun, I do not refer to myself via a Fregean sense.

So here is the problem expressed as an aporetic pentad:

a. (1) and (2) express different Fregean propositions.
b. If two Fregean propositions are different, then they must differ in a constituent.
c. The difference can only reside in a difference in subject constituents.
d. The subject constituent of (2) is ineffable.
e. No sense (mode of presentation) or humanly-graspable concept can be ineffable.

This pentad is inconsistent:  (a)-(d), taken together, entail the negation of (e).  The only limb that has a chance of being false is (a).  One could say that (1) and (2), though clearly different, are not different by expressing different Fregean propositions.  But then what would our positive theory have to be?

 

Review : Modes of Being

Herewith, a little summary of part of what I have been arguing.  Most analytic philosophers would accept (A) but not (B):

A. There are kinds of existent but no kinds of existence.
B. There are kinds of existent and also kinds of existence.

I have been defending the intelligibility of (B) but without committing myself to any particular MOB doctrine.    I use 'modes of being' and 'kinds of existence' interchangeably. Of course I grant to Reinhardt Grossmann and others that the following inference is invalid:

1. K1 and K2 are dramatically different categories of existent
Ergo
2. Instances of K1 differ from instances of K2 in their mode of existence.

But an invalid argument can have a true conclusion.  So one can cheerfully grant the invalidity of the inference from (1) to (2) while insisting that there are categories  the respective members of which differ in their very mode of existence.  For example, although one cannot straightaway infer from the dramatic difference between (primary) substances and accidents that substances and accidents differ in their mode of existence, it is difficult to understand how they could fail to so differ.  After all, accidents depend on substances in that they cannot exist except in substances as modifications of substances, and this dependence is neither causal nor logical.  So I say it is existential dependence. 

Consider a bulge in a carpet.  The bulge cannot exist apart from the carpet whose bulge it is, whereas the carpet can exist without any bulge.  You might be tempted to say that bulge and carpet both simply exist, but that they are counterfactually related: Had the carpet not existed, the bulge would not have existed.  That's true, but what makes it true?  I say it is the fact of the bulge's existential dependence on the carpet.  Accidents exist in a different way than substances.

You could resist this conclusion by simply denying that there are substances and accidents.  Fine, but then I will shift to another example, wholes and parts, say.  Do you have the chutzpah to deny that there are wholes and parts?  Consider again the house made of bricks.  And now try this aporetic pentad on for size:

1. The house exists. 
2. The bricks exist. 
3. The house is not the bricks. 
4. The house is not something wholly diverse from the bricks, something in addition to it, something over and above it. 
5.  'Exist(s)' is univocal. 

The pentad is inconsistent: the limbs cannot all be true.  So what are you going to do?  Deny (1) like van Inwagen?  Maybe that is not crazy, but surely it is extreme.  (2), (3), and (4) are are undeniable.  So I say we ought to deny (5).  The house does not exist in the same way as the bricks.

 

Taxation: A Liberty Issue

Despite their name, liberals seem uninterested or insufficiently interested in the 'real' liberties, those pertaining to property, money, and guns, as opposed to the 'ideal' liberties, those pertaining to freedom of expression. A liberal will go to any extreme when it comes to defending the right to express his precious self no matter how inane or obnoxious or socially deleterious the results of his self-expression; but he cannot muster anything like this level of energy when it comes to defending the right to keep what he earns or the right to defend himself and his family from the criminal element from which liberal government fails to protect him. He would do well to reflect that his right to express his vacuous self needs concrete back-up in the form of economic and physical clout. Scribbler that I am, I prize freedom of expression; but I understand what makes  possible its retention.

Taxation then is a liberty issue before it is a 'green eyeshade' issue: the more the government takes, the less concrete liberty you  have. Without money you can't get your kids out of a shitty public school system that liberals have destroyed with their tolerate-anything mentality; without money you cannot live in a decent and secure neighborhood.  Without money you can't move out of a state such as California which is 'under water' due to liberal fiscal irresponsibility.

Taxation is a liberty issue.  That is one thought as April 15th approaches.  Another is that the government  must justify its taking; the onus is not on you to justify your  keeping. Government exists to serve us, not the other way around.