From
…
I cannot think of any
further difference between (B) [= “-------17,” where “-------“
is Frege’s horizontal] and normal sentences that would explain these
idiosyncrasies. The moral is that if we do
affirm that (B) means something, we will still be stuck with the fact
that (B)
is somehow defective as compared to normal sentences and
formulas; and
(B)’s particular sort of defectiveness, though hard to identify, feels
semantic
in nature. By way of simply labelling
the problem, we could say that (B) is semantically mute, in
that it
asserts nothing, has no locutionary content, and cannot be used to make
a
statement.
So far this need not
shock or even faintly disturb the working semanticist, since, as I
conceded
above, Frege’s horizontal does not figure in the analysis of any
natural
language. But I believe there is a
similarly afflicted construction that does figure in linguistic
semantics; to
it I now turn.
3. SUBSTITUTIONAL QUANTIFICATION
Consider
(C)
(Ex)(y)Admires
xy, Frege)
(C)
is not a misprint. "(Ex)"
is
a substitutionally interpreted quantifier whose substitution class
contains a
left-hand parenthesis. "(Ex)(
... x
... )" is true, in the canonical idiom I have in mind, if there is some
lexical item t of that idiom such that the result of replacing "x"
in "( ... x ... )" by t is a truth.
Now "(y) Admires xy,
Frege)"--"(y)" here being a standard quantifier--will
be turned into a truth if (and only if) a left-hand parenthesis is
substituted
for "x" and the result, "(y) Admires (y,
Frege)," is true; thus, (C) is true if everyone admires Frege and false
otherwise.[17]
The situation is
familiar. You and I have the ability to
compute (C)’s truth-value in any possible world. And
yet (C) seems to me to be gibberish;
though perhaps meaningful or "meaningful," it seemingly cannot be
used to make a statement--(C) is "mute." The same range of replies
that we ran through as regards (B) is available here, but our
rejoinders to the
replies will be the same.
Notice that (C)’s
persisting anomalousness explains a pedagogical phenomenon with which
most of
us are familiar: Upon being introduced
to the substitution interpretation of the quantifiers, students
typically
respond, "Oh, I see; substitutionally quantified sentences are metalinguistic,"
meaning that substitutionally quantified sentences assert things about
some
bits of the object-language in which they occur. To
this one responds that, no, they do not
assert things about bits of language, any more than "Frege attacked
psychologism and Moore attacked idealism" asserts things about bits of
language just because the base clause of our truth definition which
concerns
"and" alludes to the truth-values of that sentence’s conjuncts.[18] But the students go away vaguely dissatisfied;
they see the point of that response, but still feel that for some
reason they
have not grasped the purport of the substitutional quantifier. What I am suggesting is that there is a good
reason for the students’ puzzlement: The
students want to know, given that the substitutionally quantified
sentence does
not say anything about bits of language, what it does say, and
the
reason their puzzlement persists is that the sentence does not say
anything.
Perhaps the case of (C)
is not quite so clear as that of (B); perhaps we should not be so quick
to
conclude that (C) is at best semantically mute.
For, once the quantifier is understood as I have explained it,
there is
some temptation to say that (C) contains a determinate
assertion,
namely, the assertion that everyone admires Frege.
(One might be similarly tempted to say that
"Ugh umph veeblefetzer and everyone admires Frege" contains that
assertion.) Perhaps (C) does say at
least that everyone admires Frege; let us keep this in mind as a third
possibility.
Now, as we all know, no
semanticist has ever used a substitutional quantifier as
powerful as the
one I have introduced; no sentence of any natural language would have
(C)
assigned to it as its logical form. This
is because the substitutional quantifiers that semanticists do make use
of are
intended to capture the roles of quantificational expressions of
English or
other natural languages, and such expressions (at least superficially)
appear
to bind pronouns, just as do those quantificational constructions which
semanticists construe objectually.
Accordingly, semanticists who introduce substitutional
quantifiers
restrict the substitution classes of those quantifiers to singular
terms or
(in the case of higher-order quantification) to predicates or whole
sentences
and exclude silly and structurally unimportant lexical items like
left-hand
parentheses. Therefore, working
semanticists, whose substitutional quantifiers are restricted in this
entirely
natural and reasonable way, will be as undisturbed by the anomalousness
of (C)
(which will be uninterpretable in their canonical idiom) as
they are by
the anomalousness of (B).
I shall now argue that
there is a theoretical reason why the semanticist ought to worry about
(C)
nevertheless. The argument will be a bit
roundabout, but I believe it has some force and calls for a response
from any
semanticist who continues to appeal to substitutionally interpreted
quantifiers
as underlying (some) quantificational construction in English.
Let us begin with an
uninterpreted formal language. Any such
language may be considered and then interpreted in any way one likes,
so long
as the interpretation yields a truth definition for the language that
assigns
determinate truth-conditions to each well-formed formula of the
language;
subject to this last requirement, the interpretation of formal
languages is
otherwise arbitrary. Now consider an
uninterpreted language containing operators which look like quantifiers
and
which, according to the (syntactic) formation rules for the language,
are
called "quantifiers." We may
propose two distinct interpretations for this language, each of which
treats
the "quantifiers" substitutionally.
The two interpretations are exactly alike, except that one
applies only
to variables in singular-term positions and accordingly restricts the
quantifiers’ substitution class to singular terms, while the other is
syntactically general and assigns an appropriate substitution class to
each of
the other syntactic categories as well.
Now consider
(D)
(Ex)(y)
Admires (y,x)
I
shall argue two points:
(1) that (D)
on the second of our two
substitutional interpretations of the quantifier has exactly the same
semantical status (whatever it may be) as (C) has;
and
(2) that (D)
on the first of our two
interpetations (that involving the syntactically restricted
substitution class)
has exactly the same semantical status as (D) on the second
interpretation
has.
In support of (1), I
would point out that, so far as formal semantics is concerned, the fact
of the
"quantifier"’s "binding" a "variable" that
appears in singular-term position is totally accidental; our
semantics
gives singular-term positions no pride of place within our system of
syntactic
categories. For this reason, though the
interpretation itself is entirely clear from a model-theoretic point of
view,
the "quantifier" is no more intuitively a quantifier of any
sort than is its cognate in (C). In
particular, (D)’s "quantifier" on our second interpretation has
nothing whatever to do with existence, even existence very colloquially
and
fancifully construed. To see this more
clearly, note that there is no uniform informal way of paraphrasing the
"quantifier" into any even faintly quantificational expression of any
better-understood formal or natural language that makes clear sense of
(C) as
any sort of existential assertion (objectual or otherwise).
It is important not to
be misled by the fact that in (D) the "bound variable" happens to
replace a singular term, by the orthographic similarity of the
"quantifier" to an objectual quantifier, or by (D)’s similarity to
sentences of more familiar idioms that we would translate into
existential
sentences of English; that these similarities are specious is just what
is
shown by the underlying semantical parity (identity) of (D)’s
"quantifier" with (C)’s. It is
also important not to be misled by the fact (already acknowledged) that
the
singling out of the syntactic category of singular terms is not at all
arbitrary
or "accidental" for serious philosophical and technical purposes such
as that of analyzing natural languages.
For now I am considering (C) and (D) solely as formulas of a
logical
idiom to which we are assigning formal semantical interpretations,
regardless
of what uses these formulas thus interpreted may or may not turn out to
have. And the moral of the foregoing
argument is that, from this abstract point of view, there is
no reason
at all to think that (C) and (D) on our second interpretation differ in
their
semantical status or that their "quantifiers" differ in any
semantically relevant way.
In support of (2), I
would return to the point that I believe Quine (1969a, p. 106) had in
mind in
reminding us of the kind of construction exemplified in (C). Again:
From the purely formal truth-theoretic point of view, the
restriction of substitutional quantifiers’ substitution classes to
singular
terms is entirely arbitrary--not just in that any
truth-theoretic
interpretation of any logical functor is arbitrary, and not just in
that the
choice of singular terms from among all the language’s syntactic
categories is
arbitrary, but also in that the idea of making any such choice at all
is
arbitrary. (The urge to restrict the use
of our "quantifier" to singular-term positions is not a mathematical
urge; it comes only from philosophers’ or linguists’ desires to model
or parody
natural languages.) And it seems
therefore that the same sorts of considerations that assimilate (D)’s
"quantifier" on our second interpretation to (C)’s
"quantifier" also suffice to assimilate (D)’s "quantifier"
on our first interpretation to (C)’s.
The fact of that interpretation’s having restricted the
application of
(D)’s "quantifier" to singular-term positions is accidental in just
the same way as is the fact that (D)’s "variable" on the second
interpretation occurs in singular-term position. And,
as before, (D)’s "quantifier"
even on our first interpretation is no more intuitively a quantifier of
any
sort than is (C)’s; it has nothing to do with existence in any sense or
with
any quantificational expression of any more familiar formal or natural
language, and so on. Here again, we must
resist being misled by the "quantifier"’s superficial similarity to a
quantifier etc., or by the nonarbitrariness for purposes
of
linguistics of singling out singular-term positions, for the same
reasons
as before. There is equally no reason to
think that (D)’s semantical status on our first interpretation differs
from (D)’s
semantical status on our second, or from (C)’s, and there is no reason
to think
that their "quantifiers" differ in any semantically relevant
way.
We concluded above that
(C) is semantically mute. Thus, given
(l) and (2), we should draw the further conclusion that (D) on either
of our
substitutional interpretations is semantically mute also, and that any
inclination to deny this arises only from (D)’s mendacious orthographic
familiarity. (We did consider allowing
that (C) asserts that everyone admires Frege, but no analogous option
is
available here, since (D) does not "contain" any closed sentence.)
Even now we have said
nothing to trouble the working semanticist.
I have talked only about the logical particles of a couple of
nonstandard and useless formal systems.
The trouble begins, however, as soon as we turn at last to the
analysis
of natural languages and try to explain some of their surface
constructions in
terms of underlying substitutional quantifiers, relating relevant
surface
expressions to the underlying quantifiers via fairly simple
lexicalizing
transformations. For example, as we saw
in Chapter 1, Marcus (1975-1976) supposes that an expression of English
such as
"There are things that" in
(E) There
are things that don’t exist
reflects
a substitutionally interpreted quantifier, since it is a
plainly quantificational expression but cannot comfortably be regarded
as
straightforwardly mirroring an objectual quantifier, at least not in
the
absence of an elaborate Actualist or Concretist metaphysics of
possibility. Besides, in a way we do
talk as if (E) were made true by the truth of certain
substitution-instances of
(E)’s matrix: when one tokens (E) in a
philosophical
discussion one feels an inclination to add, "...Pegasus doesn’t
exist;
Santa Claus doesn’t exist; and so on." But if substitutionally
quantified formulas of formal languages are, as I have argued,
semantically
mute in the sense that they (can be used to) assert nothing, and if
whatever
transformations derive English sentences from the interpreted formulas
of
underlying formal languages preserve meaning and all meaning-related
properties
(as is widely insisted), then on the hypothesis that "There are things
that" in (E) reflects a substitutional quantifier, (E) itself is
semantically mute. Congenial as that
consequence would be to a ferocious antiMeinongian, as a contention
about
ordinary English it is pretty obviously false.
I have already argued in Chapter 1 that Marcus’ substitutional
proposal
will not do, but here is a new difficulty.
The point generalizes
quickly to any theory according to which any perfectly meaningful
sentence of
English reflects an underlying substitutional quantifier--e.g., a
sentence
containing apparent higher-order quantification ("There are three
things I
am concerned to deny:...").
The consequence that
(E) is mute, taken together with the antecedent plausibility of one or
more
substitutional-quantifier hypotheses, may make us suspicious of my
argument for
the muteness of (D). I suspect that some
semanticists will simply ignore the argument for that reason. But I think that to do so would be a
mistake. The argument seems to be
sound; therefore, to find a flaw in it would probably teach us
something
interesting and perhaps important about meaningfulness or about the
surrounding
semantical and syntactical notions.
4. WHAT IS SEMANTICAL MUTENESS?
We have left section 2’s residual
question unanswered. What is
"semantical muteness"? That
is, what is it about a formula such as (B) that makes us feel that that
formula
asserts nothing and is semantically deficient in some way?
Not (B)’s untranslatability into English, as
we have seen, or any more basic pragmatic property of (B) that I know
of. At present I have very little to offer
on this. One feature of Frege’s horizontal
stands out,
however, and it is one that is shared by (C)’s substitutional
"quantifier": Each of these
"funny functors" is syntactically ambivalent or promiscuous, in that
it operates grammatically on arguments of more than one grammatical
category. The horizontal applies either
to a singular term or to a closed sentence; the "quantifier" applies
to an "open sentence" whose "variable" may occur in any
grammatical position. (And I argued that
the "quantifier" in (D), though by happenstance (on our second
interpretation) or by fiat (on our first) it "binds" a
"variable" in singular-term position, might just as well apply
in the same way to a position of any other syntactic category.) If anything can explain (B)’s and (C)’s felt
emptiness, I should say, it must be this property of their contained
funny
functors.
17. Quine (1969a) points out the
syntactic catholicity of the substitution interpretation; he attributes
the
point in turn to Lesniewski.
It should be noted
that a left-hand parenthesis is the only lexical item of any
familiar
logical idiom that could grammatically replace "x" in (C).
A Tarskian base clause for my substitutional
quantifier would therefore have to be written with some care. We might simply stipulate that "("
is the sole member of the quantifier’s substitution class; in this case
the
single substitution that would verify an existential quantification
would
verify the corresponding universal one as well.
Or we might write a more general interpretation for the
quantifier that
would apply to any syntactic position but relativize the substitution
class to
syntactic category (in this case some of the relativized substitution
classes
might have to be restricted in order to avoid paradox).
A substitutionally interpreted
"parenthesis" quantifier is unquestionably a stupid and totally
useless device that holds no interest whatever for any working
semanticist or
logician. My claim is only that a coherent
truth-conditional interpretation could be written for it. It is crucial to see that my argument in no
way depends on any assumption stronger than this minimal observation. (I am indebted to Robert Kraut for insisting
on this clarification.)
18 This point is made neatly by Dunn
and Belnap (1968).