What Sort of Prayer is Needed by the Desiccated Intellectual?

Which sort of prayer is appropriate for the proud intellectual?  Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, The Three Ages of the Interior Life, vol. I (Catholic Way Publishing, 2013), p. 535:

Some souls absolutely need prayer, intimate and profound prayer; another form of prayer will not suffice for them.  There are very intelligent people whose character is difficult, intellectuals who will dry up in their work, in study, in seeking themselves therein in pride, unless they lead a life of true prayer, which for them should be a life of mental prayer.  It alone can give them a childlike soul in regard to God . . . .  It alone can teach them the profound meaning of Christ's words: "Unless you become as little children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven."  It is, therefore, important, especially for certain souls, to persevere in prayer; unless they do so, they are almost certain to abandon the interior life and perhaps come to ruin.

The Univocity of ‘Exist(s)’: Obsessing Further

The general existential, 'Philosophers exist,' is reasonably construed as an instantiation claim:

G. The concept philosopher has one or more instances.

But a parallel construal seems to fail in the case of the singular existential, 'Socrates exists.'  For both of the following are objectionable:

S1.  The concept Socrates has one or more instances.

S2.  The concept Socrateity has one of more instances.

(S1) is objectionable because Socrates is not a concept (Begriff), but an object (Gegenstand), while (S2) is objectionable because there is no haecceity concept Socrateity (identity-with-Socrates), as I have already argued ad nauseam. (But see below for another go-round.)

On the other hand, 'exist(s)' across general and singular existentials would seem to be univocal in sense inasmuch as arguments like the following appear valid:

Philosophers exist
Socrates is a philosopher
————
Socrates exists.

Whatever the exact logical form of this argument, there does not seem to be an equivocation on 'exist(s)' or at least not one that would induce a quaternio terminorum.  (A valid syllogism must have exactly three terms; if there is an equivocation on one of them, then we have the quaternio terminorum, or four-term fallacy.)

Here then is the problem.  Is it possible to uphold a broadly Fregean understanding of 'exist(s)' while also maintaining the univocity of 'exist(s)' across general and singular existentials?  A broadly Fregean understanding is one that links existence with number.  The locus classicus is Frege, Foundations of Arithmetic, 65: 

In this respect existence is analogous to [hat Aehnlichkeit mit] number. Affirmation of existence is in fact nothing but denial of the number nought.  Because existence is a property of concepts the ontological argument for the existence of God breaks down.

To affirm the existence of philosophers, then, is to affirm that the number of philosophers is one or more, and to deny the existence of philosophers is to affirm that the number of philosophers is zero.  But then what are we saying of Socrates when we say that he exists?  That the number of Socrateses is one or more?  That can't be right:  'Socrates' is a proper name (Eigenname) not a concept-word (Begriffswort) like 'philosopher.'  It makes no sense to say that the number of Socrateses is one or more.  And when I say, with truth, that Socrates might never have existed, I am surely not saying that the number of Socrateses might always have been zero. 

London Ed doesn't see much of a problem here.  From his latest entry:

But why, from the fact that ‘Socrates’ is not a concept word, does it follow that there is no corresponding concept? [. . .] Why can’t ‘Socrates’ be semantically compound? So that it embeds a concept like person identical with Socrates, which with the definite article appended gives us ‘Socrates’?

From my point of view, Ed does not see the problem.  The problem is that if 'Socrates' expresses a concept, that concept can only be an haecceity concept, and there aren't any. It doesn't matter whether we call this concept 'Socrateity,' or 'person identical with Socrates.'

Ask yourself: Is the haecceity H of Socrates contingent or necessary?  Socrates is contingent.  And so one might naturally think that his haecceity must also be contingent.  For it is the ontological factor that makes him be this very individual and no other.  Haecceitas = thisness.  No Socrates, no haecceity of Socrates.  But then you can't say that the existence of Socrates is the being-instantiated of his haecceity, and the non-existence of Socrates is the non-instantiation of his haecceity.  For that presupposes that his haecceity exists whether or not he exists.  Which is absurd.

So haecceities must be necessary beings.  But now we have jumped from the frying pan into the fire.  Socrateity involves Socrates himself, that very individual, warts and all, mit Haut und Haar.  It is not a conjunction of multiply instantiable properties.  This is why identity — absolute numerical identity –is brought into the definition of H as, for example, 'person identical with Socrates.'  Hence an haecceity of a contingent being cannot be a necessary being.

The absurdity here is the attempt to make a necessarily existent abstract property out of a contingent concrete individual.  This is why I say that haecceity concepts/properties are metaphysical monstrosities.

It should also be pointed out that on a Fregean scheme, no concept is an object and no name is a predicate.  You cannot turn a name such as 'Socrates' into a predicate, which is what Ed is trying to do.

So the problem remains unsolved.  On the one hand, 'exist(s)' appears univocal across general and singular existentials.  And yet how can we make sense of this if we are not allowed to bring in haecceity properties?

Jeb Bush did not Suspend, he Ended his Campaign

In this Internet age the availability of accurate on-line dictionary definitions makes the misuse of language by so-called journalists inexcusable.  The Merriam-Webster's definition of 'suspend' receives the coveted MavPhil nihil obstat.  Suspensions are temporary.  But we all know, and Jeb! knows, that he ain't coming back, leastways not in this election cycle.

Part of the problem, I suspect, is that in this Age of Feeling, people are afraid to speak plainly and label things accurately.  What is manifestly an act of terrorism, for example, is labelled 'work-place violence.'  People are afraid to call a spade a spade.  Hell, they are afraid to use this very expression lest they be called a 'racist.'

And so, instead of stating bluntly that Mr. Bush quit, or gave up, one says euphemistically that he 'suspended' his campaign.  As if he needs a 'breather.'  It is on a par with saying, of Antonin Scalia, that he 'is no longer among us' as opposed to saying that he died.  Finality is not something we like facing up to.  One who is no longer among us may reappear; and he who suspends his campaign may soon be back in the race.

For reasons why it is good that Jeb Bush is out of the race, see here.

………………………………….

Correction (23 February).  I got off a wild shot above in my zeal to oppose the misuse of language by journalists.  'Suspend' in the context of an election can be used in a technical sense.  A reader sends us here where we read:

Delegates:

Federal law plays no role in delegate selection rules. It's up to the party to decide how to treat delegates won by a candidate who has suspended his campaign. In general, candidates who suspend their campaigns get to keep any delegates they've won, while candidates who drop out have to forfeit certain delegates, usually statewide delegates.

Money:

"Suspending" a campaign allows a candidate to publicly withdraw from a race while preserving the ability to raise funds beyond what's needed to retire debt. This may include the ability to continue to receive federal matching funds, if the candidate has previously qualified for them.

When candidates announce they are dropping out or ending their campaigns, they may then only raise money to retire any remaining campaign debts or to pay for other costs related to shutting down a campaign committee. They may not continue to amass war chests beyond that if they drop out.

However, if a candidate "suspends" his campaign but doesn't officially end his candidacy, federal law does not specifically prohibit that candidate from continuing to raise funds for purposes other [than] debt retirement.

Candidates who "suspend" their campaigns as well as those who officially drop out must still continue to file disclosure reports, as long as they have an active campaign committee.

Antonin Scalia as Writer

Andrew Ferguson quotes the great jurist in The Justice as Writer:

. . . no construction should call attention to its own grammatical correctness. Finding no other formulation that could make the point in quite the way I wanted, I decided to be ungrammatical instead of pedantic.

A good rule, within limits.  The forward momentum of a sentence may be be impeded if you do not split an infinitive or use a contraction.  Your precision may distract; your use of 'one'  may strike the reader as precious.  Writing 'of which' instead of 'whose' may mark you as pedantic even if you have correct usage and logic on your side. We sometimes do well to thumb our noses at the strictures of the school marms while yet reverencing the old gals in our memories.  But now my style is about to slide into the sentimental as my mind drifts back to the dear old ladies who taught me and my mates to read and write.  So I take myself in hand, a bit too late perhaps.

A caveat, though, anent Scalia's rule.  As the culture declines and writing with it, you may not be able to help your constructions' calling attention to their grammatical correctness.  Nothing wrong with that.  Nothing wrong with standing for what is correct among barbarians.

Two sentence fragments in a row.  Nothing wrong with that with that either, in moderation.

'Anent,' 'caveat'?  Who am I trying to impress?  Well, not a barbarian like you, ignorant of his own tongue, whose literary intake is a Twitter feed.

Ferguson's "For a writer like Scalia, who prized the precise and the particular (and seldom succumbed to soupy alliteration) . . . ." both illustrates alliteration and puts me in mind of my own excessively alliterative style.

Laying down rules of style, however, is a risky game.  It is easy to fall into one's own traps, as does the great Orwell.

Advice for the Young

Beware of internalizing your parents' and relatives' attitudes, their harsh, unsympathetic, 'practical' attitudes and suggestions especially as regards what is tender, fledgling, open, searching, trusting, idealistic and unworldly in yourself.  Beware of dismissing or discounting your young self, the young self that was and the one that still is.  One must treat oneself critically but with sympathy.

Magnificent but Miserable

As magnificent a subject as philosophy is, grappling as it does with the ultimate concerns of human existence, and thus surpassing in nobility all other human pursuits, it is also miserable in that nothing goes uncontested, and nothing ever gets established to the satisfaction of all competent practitioners.  The magnificence and misery of philosophy reflect the magnificence and misery of its author man, who, neither animal nor angel, is the tension between the two and a question mark to himself.

Magnificent in aspiration, philosophy is yet miserable in execution.

William Ellery Channing on the Rude Machinery of Government

An important message for lefties and RINOs alike:

Another important step is a better comprehension by communities that government is at best a rude machinery, which can accomplish but very limited good, and which, when  strained to accomplish what individuals should do for  themselves, is sure to be perverted by selfishness to narrow purposes, or to defeat through ignorance its own ends. Man is too ignorant to govern much, to form vast plans for states and empires. Human policy has almost always been in conflict with the great laws of social well-being, and the less we rely on it the better. The less of power given to man over man the better. I speak, of course, of physical, political force. There is a power which cannot be accumulated to excess, — I mean moral power, that of truth and virtue, the royalty of wisdom and love, of magnanimity and true religion. This is the guardian of all right. It makes those whom it acts on free. (from Discourses on War.  HT: Dave Bagwill)

Argumentum ad Lapidem?

According to Wikipedia, the argumentum ad lapidem, or appeal to the stone, "consists in dismissing a statement as absurd without giving a proof of its absurdity."

This supposed fallacy takes its name from the following incident reported in Boswell's Life of Samuel Johnson:

57. Refutation of Bishop Berkeley
After we came out of the church, we stood talking for some time together of Bishop Berkeley's ingenious sophistry to prove the nonexistence of matter, and that every thing in the universe is merely ideal. I observed, that though we are satisfied his doctrine is not true, it is impossible to refute it. I never shall forget the alacrity with which Johnson answered, striking his foot with mighty force against a large stone, till he rebounded from it — "I refute it thus."
Boswell: Life

Johnson_berkeley-smallBut where is the fallacy? If the good bishop really did maintain the nonexistence of material objects such as stones, then Johnson really did refute him by drawing Boswell's attention to a massive stone and the resistance it offered to Johnson's foot.  But of course Berkeley was not an eliminativist about material objects.  He did not maintain that rocks and trees do not exist; he did not question WHETHER they are; he offered an unusual ontological account of WHAT they are, namely ideas in the divine mind.  If you know your Berkeley you know that what I just wrote is true and that the bishop cannot be refuted by kicking a stone.

Johnson's mistake, therefore, was not that he simply dismissed Berkeley's thesis without argument; his mistake was that he took Berkeley to be maintaining something other than what he in fact maintained, and then went on, stupidly, to refute this other proposition.

Johnson's fallacy was the ignoratio elenchi, not the ad lapidem.  The very name 'ad lapidem' shows misunderstanding.

I suggest that there is something fallacious in the very notion of the ad lapidem fallacy.  I rather doubt that we have any need to add this so-called fallacy to the grab-bag list of informal fallacies.  Surely it cannot be the case that it is always wrong to dismiss a statement as false or even absurd without proof.  Some claims are refutable by kicking.  Suppose you maintain that there are no pains.  Without saying anything, I kick you in the shins with steel-tipped boots, or perhaps I kick you a bit higher up.  I will have brought home to you the plain falsehood of your claim.  The fallacy behind ad lapidem is the notion that no assertion can be legitimately dismissed, that every assertion, no matter what, must be paid the respect of an explicit discursive rebuttal.

Or suppose sophomore Sam  says that there is no truth.  I would be fully within my epistemic rights to respond, 'Is that so?' and then walk away.

Some claims are beneath refutation.

The Left’s Betrayal of America

David Horowitz is a national treasure.  The following is so important and so right that I reproduce the whole of it here.  From National Review.
 
Is the Left Even on America’s Side Anymore?

The progressives have undermined American security and damaged race relations.

By David Horowitz — January 8, 2016
 

Is ‘Justified Belief’ a Solecism?

Panayot Butchvarov, Anthropocentrism in Philosophy: Realism, Antirealism, Semirealism, Walter de Gruyter, 2015, p. 33:

As used in epistemology, "justified" is a technical term, of obscure meaning and uncertain reference, indeed often explicitly introduced as a primitive.  In everyday talk, it is a deontic term, usually a synonym of 'just' or 'right,' and thus 'justified belief' is a solecism.  For it is actions that are justified or unjustified, and beliefs are not actions.

The argument is this, assuming that moral justification is in question:

a. Actions alone are morally either justified or unjustified.
b. No belief is an action.
Therefore
c. No belief is morally either justified or unjustified.
Therefore
d. 'Morally justified belief' is a solecism.

(b) is not evident.    Aren't some beliefs actions or at least analogous to actions?  I will argue that some beliefs are actions because they come under the direct control of the will.  As coming under the direct control of the will, they are morally evaluable.

1. It makes sense to apply deontological predicates to actions. Thus it makes sense to say of a voluntary action that it is obligatory or permissible or impermissible. But does it make sense to apply such predicates to beliefs and related propositional attitudes? If I withhold my assent to proposition p, does it make sense to say that the withholding is obligatory or permissible or impermissible? Suppose someone passes on a nasty unsubstantiated rumor concerning a mutual acquaintance. Is believing it impermissible? Is disbelieving it obligatory?  Is suspending judgment required? Or is deontological evaluation simply out of place in a case like this?

4.  I am a limited doxastic voluntarist.