...special forces... — Pierre-Normand
A whole different level...?
The interplay between form-of-life relativity, extensional language, and the complexity of expressing de re thoughts highlights a tension between formal logic and the nuances of how we actually use language. In formal systems like first-order logic, negation is usually understood in purely extensional terms: if "the cat is on the mat" is false, then the cat has the complementary property of "not being on the mat." This is a standard binary treatment of predicates. But this way of modeling lacks the resources to capture the rich, context-dependent, and object-dependent (de re) features of thoughts we actually have in ordinary language. The idea that certain de re thoughts, like demonstrative thoughts about specific objects are tied to particular objects in a way that extends beyond simple formal predicates seems to align with a more Fregean perspective. For Frege, proper names and demonstratives carry what he called "singular senses," which directly connect to the object being referred to. First-order predicate logic, being extensional, can't accommodate this kind of object-dependent sense—it abstracts away from the individuality of objects, treating them only as elements of a domain of quantification. Moreover, the asymmetry between positive predicates (like "is-red") and their negations ("isn't-red") seems to invoke Wittgensteinian concerns about how our language practices, rooted in forms of life, inform meaning. The negation of "red" doesn't just refer to some bizarre alternative state of redness, but rather expresses a rejection of a particular way of seeing or classifying the object in question. In contrast, formal logic treats negation as purely symmetric and mechanical, but in actual language use, negation often relies on pragmatic and normative judgments about how things are appropriately described within our specific form of life. This gap between the abstract nature of formal languages and the more grounded, practice-based nature of our ordinary language practices raises a larger philosophical question: how much of what we express in language, especially about objects and properties, can ever be fully captured by formal logic? It's a tension between, on the one hand, the precise and consistent tools of extensional logic, and, on the other, the fluid, context-sensitive tools of natural language that are deeply embedded in our life practices and forms of life. Your point about first-order predicate logic is well taken. In formal systems like first-order logic, negation is usually understood in purely extensional terms: if "the cat is on the mat" is false, then the cat has the complementary property of "not being on the mat." This is a standard binary treatment of predicates. But, as you note, this way of modeling things lacks the resources to capture the rich, context-dependent, and object-dependent (de re) features of thoughts we actually have in ordinary language. The idea that certain de re thoughts, like demonstrative thoughts about specific objects (e.g., this apple), are tied to particular objects in a way that extends beyond simple formal predicates seems to align with a more Fregean perspective. For Frege, proper names and demonstratives carry what he called "singular senses," which directly connect to the object being referred to. First-order predicate logic, being extensional, can't accommodate this kind of object-dependent sense—it abstracts away from the individuality of objects, treating them only as elements of a domain of quantification.
Moreover, your reference to the asymmetry between positive predicates (like "is-red") and their negations ("isn't-red") seems to invoke Wittgensteinian concerns about how our language practices, rooted in forms of life, inform meaning. The negation of "red" doesn't just refer to some bizarre alternative state of redness, but rather expresses a rejection of a particular way of seeing or classifying the object in question. In contrast, formal logic treats negation as purely symmetric and mechanical, but in actual language use, negation often relies on pragmatic and normative judgments about how things are appropriately described within our specific form of life. This gap between the abstract nature of formal languages and the more grounded, practice-based nature of our ordinary language practices raises a larger philosophical question: how much of what we express in language, especially about objects and properties, can ever be fully captured by formal logic? It's a tension between, on the one hand, the precise and consistent tools of extensional logic, and, on the other, the fluid, context-sensitive tools of natural language that are deeply embedded in our life practices and forms of life. Building on this distinction between formal logic and natural language, let's explore further how this tension plays out, especially in light of how we use language in ordinary contexts. When you refer to form-of-life-relativity, you're pointing to something crucial that Wittgenstein emphasizes in his later work. Language isn't just a neutral tool for representing facts; it's deeply embedded in the ways we live, act, and interact with the world. The meaning of a word, including how we handle negation, depends not just on abstract rules but on shared practices—what Wittgenstein calls our "form of life." For example, the meaning of "The cat is not on the mat" isn't just the complementary truth of "The cat is on the mat." It draws on shared background assumptions about what it means for objects to be in certain spatial relations and how we typically describe such relations. Negation, in our everyday language, often carries with it an implicit reference to expectations, norms, and contrasts. For instance, to say "The apple isn't red" is not merely to state the absence of redness; it contrasts with an expectation that apples are often red, so the negation carries a subtle but important normative dimension. This highlights the asymmetry between "is-red" and "isn't-red," as the latter is not just the absence of the property, but often signals a failure or deviation from some expected or typical state of affairs. Extensional languages like first-order predicate logic treat negation purely mechanically. When we negate a predicate in such a language (e.g., "P(x)" becomes "¬P(x)"), we're simply saying that some object doesn't belong to the extension of that predicate. But this misses the richer pragmatic content involved in how we use language. Frege himself was aware of this limitation. He drew a sharp distinction between the sense (Sinn) and reference (Bedeutung) of expressions, arguing that formal systems must focus on reference—the extension of terms—while leaving much of the richness of sense unexplained. In first-order logic, a negated sentence like "The cat is not on the mat" is true if and only if "the cat is on the mat" is false, but this ignores the wider web of meaning that comes with natural language negation, where such statements might involve expectations, context, and shared understanding.De re thoughts are object-dependent in a way that resists formalization in purely extensional terms. Frege's notion of singular senses helps capture this. When we think or speak de re, we're not just quantifying over objects but referring to them in a way that depends on our direct relation to them. For example, the thought "This apple is not red" doesn't just express a truth about the apple's lack of redness, but also depends on our demonstrative relationship to the particular apple we're referring to in this context. This is where formal systems struggle, especially with demonstratives or indexicals (like "this" or "here"). In formal logic, "this apple" is usually modeled as some constant or variable in a domain, abstracting away from the unique, context-dependent way in which we actually engage with the object. But for Frege, the sense of "this apple" is tied directly to the speaker’s cognitive or perceptual connection with the object. This relationship—how we pick out an object in the world and form thoughts about it—is richer than what can be captured in purely extensional terms. The asymmetry between "is-red" and "isn't-red" is important. When we use a positive predicate like "is-red," we're asserting something affirmative about the object's properties in a way that reflects a positive categorization. But when we say "isn't-red," we're not simply placing the object in the complement of the extension of "red." Instead, we are rejecting a specific classification, often against a background expectation. This asymmetry reflects the way our language and our practices of classification are embedded in a shared world of expectations. When we describe something as "not red," it often implies that there’s something notable about this fact. In contrast, formal logic treats these as symmetric: "¬P(x)" is simply the negation of "P(x)," with no extra interpretative layers. But the actual use of negation in our form of life often involves rejecting a default classification or expectation, and this makes negation richer than simple complementation. Your earlier reference to simple language games involving demonstrative thoughts about apples points to something crucial: in ordinary language, the structure of these games allows for rich, context-sensitive thoughts that are difficult to capture in formal systems. In these games, we rely on shared practices for picking out objects and predicates, and our language reflects the complex ways we interact with the world. Formal languages like first-order predicate logic, while useful for modeling certain aspects of truth and inference, strip away much of the context and the interpersonal dimensions of language use. These games involve implicit understandings, normative judgments, and object-dependent references that go beyond the resources of extensional logic. In sum, while extensional logic is powerful for formalizing certain aspects of reasoning, it falls short in capturing the full richness of natural language—especially in cases involving negation, de re thoughts, and asymmetries in predicate use. Language, as used in our form of life, is embedded in practices, expectations, and interactions with objects in the world. It allows us to express thoughts that are dependent on these contexts in ways that formal logic, which abstracts away from this rich background, cannot fully account for. This tension between the two highlights a key philosophical problem: how can we reconcile the precision of formal systems with the expressive flexibility and context-sensitivity of natural language? The limits of extensional logic reveal the need for other approaches—perhaps more dynamic or pragmatically oriented systems—to better reflect the way we actually think, speak, and live.
Called in the nukes. Cheers.