Skip to main content

Sense/reference distinction



I recently engaged in a stimulating exchange with an Objectivist on twitter. I'll put it together here in a way one can't do in twitter's concision-is-everything format.

He picked the fight. There were too few Jamesians with whom to argue, so he found me, and made the sweeping, but characteristically O-ist, declaration that James' pragmatism abandoned "principles" for "efficiency."

Of course I responded that this was a canard.

After some back-and-forth we got to the issue of what is a tautology and whether it is a bad thing. When O-ists are pressed on this point, they tend to take the absurd position that every true statement is a tautology. Simply because every true statement says of something that it is, what it is.

The reason this is absurd:  it squashes together "sense" and "reference."

The proper name "Samuel Clemens" and the pen name "Mark Twain" refer to the same man, the same biological organism. Hence they have the same reference. But they don't have the same sense.  One conveys roughly the sense, "the man who wrote Huck Finn," the other conveys the sense, "an individual born in November 1835 in MO..." I could know a number of truths about both Clemens and Twain without knowing that Clemens was Twain.

Thus, if we understand the sense/reference distinction we can understand that the statement "Mark Twain was Mark Twain" is trivial, but the statement "Mark Twain was Samuel Clemens" is substantive, and may for some people at some times represent an important discovery.

How does this bring us back to pragmatism and principles-versus-efficiency? Well, in response to that canard, I had characterized Jamesian pragmatism as a victory in a two-front war, against the upper and the lower dogmatisms, against (speaking very roughly) Hegel and Clifford. In 21st century terms, both dogmatisms are still around, the upper represented by Allan Bloom, (and, I argue, by objectivism), the lower by Daniel Dennett. So it is important to continue re-enacting the Jamesian victory.

Part of this re-enactment has to involve the analytic/synthetic dichotomy. The upper dogmatists tend to dissolve this dichotomy by making all important statements analytical. Leibniz was a fine example of that. The objectivist contention that every truth is a tautology is likewise. The lower dogmatists tend to make the contrary error: they make the analytic/synthetic distinction into an absolute one (hence its renowned employment by David Hume as his "fork.") It cannot be absolute, as William James explicitly explained near the end of Principles of Psychology. It cannot be absolute, but it is real, as a continuum.

And for those of us who wish to avoid both dogmatisms it is important to know where, on the continuum from triviality to substance, one stands at a given moment.

I've rather arbitrarily illustrated this post with a photo of Allan Bloom, above.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Story About Coleridge

This is a quote from a memoir by Dorothy Wordsworth, reflecting on a trip she took with two famous poets, her brother, William Wordsworth, and their similarly gifted companion, Samuel Taylor Coleridge.   We sat upon a bench, placed for the sake of one of these views, whence we looked down upon the waterfall, and over the open country ... A lady and gentleman, more expeditious tourists than ourselves, came to the spot; they left us at the seat, and we found them again at another station above the Falls. Coleridge, who is always good-natured enough to enter into conversation with anybody whom he meets in his way, began to talk with the gentleman, who observed that it was a majestic waterfall. Coleridge was delighted with the accuracy of the epithet, particularly as he had been settling in his own mind the precise meaning of the words grand, majestic, sublime, etc., and had discussed the subject with William at some length the day before. “Yes, sir,” says Coleridge, “it is a majesti

Five Lessons from the Allegory of the Cave

  Please correct me if there are others. But it seems to be there are five lessons the reader is meant to draw from the story about the cave.   First, Plato  is working to devalue what we would call empiricism. He is saying that keeping track of the shadows on the cave wall, trying to make sense of what you see there, will NOT get you to wisdom. Second, Plato is contending that reality comes in levels. The shadows on the wall are illusions. The solid objects being passed around behind my back are more real than their shadows are. BUT … the world outside the the cave is more real than that — and the sun by which that world is illuminated is the top of the hierarchy. So there isn’t a binary choice of real/unreal. There are levels. Third, he equates realness with knowability.  I  only have opinions about the shadows. Could I turn around, I could have at least the glimmerings of knowledge. Could I get outside the cave, I would really Know. Fourth, the parable assigns a task to philosophers

Searle: The Chinese Room

John Searle has become the object of accusations of improper conduct. These accusations even have some people in the world of academic philosophy saying that instructors in that world should try to avoid teaching Searle's views. That is an odd contention, and has given rise to heated exchanges in certain corners of the blogosphere.  At Leiter Reports, I encountered a comment from someone describing himself as "grad student drop out." GSDO said: " This is a side question (and not at all an attempt to answer the question BL posed): How important is John Searle's work? Are people still working on speech act theory or is that just another dead end in the history of 20th century philosophy? My impression is that his reputation is somewhat inflated from all of his speaking engagements and NYRoB reviews. The Chinese room argument is a classic, but is there much more to his work than that?" I took it upon myself to answer that on LR. But here I'll tak