Either words refer or they don't. You can use many types of examples or counterexamples in the traditional style, but the point can be made more concisely by now. I'm only saying that people refer, it's an act that people do. They can refer with words, as is often the case, or with gestures.

Frodo is a hobbit, "Frodo" is a word. Clearly there are two different referents. — Michael

That may seem clear during the phase of the game where you are confident in asserting,

When I use the name "Frodo" I am referring to the hobbit, not to the word "Frodo" or my idea of Frodo. — Michael

Later, perhaps trying to square this with the fact there are no hobbits, you must start to explore ways of restating things. Hence,

Does this entail realism regarding Frodo? Of course not. Frodo is not ontologically-independent of our language and our ideas. — Michael

The existence of hobbits is traded for the existence of, and indirect reference to, certain varieties of words and pictures and other symbols.

That Frodo depends on words isn't that "Frodo" refers to words. "Frodo" refers to a hobbit, and hobbits exist only in a fictional piece of writing.

Meta-semantics?

First, words are our tools...

Secondly, words are not (except in their own little corner) facts or things:...

...these surely are likely to be more sound, since they have stood up to the long test of the survival of the fittest, and more subtle, at least in all ordinary and reasonably practical matters...

The point I should be making is that if you can't say something coherent about simply 'words', then stop. The first quote describes words in a metaphor and demands a clean presentation. The second both negates it and muddies the water. The third explains why this is brilliant. It's authoritarian dismissal as the emperor's new wardrobe and served to maintain the religious madness we are still trying to cure. Did that make sense? Not asking for agreement; just is it a coherent claim about a thing?

I see, you did not take my advice on how NOT to explain things with negatives — god must be atheist

I'm not sure we agree on what the grammar is for advice. When someone doesn't ask questions but just makes blind assertions, one answer is: well, no, not quite, more like....

You used two negatives with one blurred, muddled, ineffectual, vague positive claim. — god must be atheist

Well unless you have a counterclaim or a question, this is just rude; and just because you don't understand it, doesn't make it any on those things.

So... I don't know your point, until you state it in ordinary language. Simple, ordinary, common language. — god must be atheist

This is the most common misconception--granted, thus, it is a dumb name--but the last thing OLP can do is "state" things "with" "simple" "common" language. It makes claims about the ordinary (non-metaphysical, let's say) criteria we have for different language in different situations, for the purpose of shedding light on philosophical problems. I do provide examples elsewhere in this thread.

I see, you did not take my advice on how NOT to explain things with negatives - how not to explain a thing by saying what it is not. You used two negatives with one blurred, muddled, ineffectual, vague positive claim. So... I don't know your point, until you state it in oridnary language. Simple, ordinary, common language. — god must be atheist

You have created your own example of the extent OLP has practical application. Wittgenstein was surely a genius, but he ought written a book for the rest of us.

Popper solved all this mess with "“Always remember that it is impossible to speak in such a way that you cannot be misunderstood: there will always be some who misunderstand you.”

..for different language in different situations... — Antony Nickles

Look me in the eye and claim this isn't bullshitting. I don't mean can you rationalize it either. Rather, is there really information content that could be further examined? In a meaningful way; as it applies to any philosophical problem called X. X=?

"I'm only saying that people refer, it's is an act that people do. They can refer with words, as is often the case, or with gestures. — Manuel

I agree; OLP would be looking into what (ordinary criteria) makes it "referring" in different cases, maybe how it is differentiated from implying, in order to see how "referring" is held to different (metaphysical) criteria at times, such as:

Either words refer or they don't. — Manuel

Austin and Wittgenstein's starting point is that, yes, words can refer, but they do not only refer. They marry us, make promises, lie. That not only are things not meaningful in one way, but everything has its own ways; each of: agreeing, condescending, threatening, pointing, playing chess. (Some of these are/can be done with words, some not, of course.) And that maybe there are reasons for this, for us wanting referring to work a particular way.

@bongo fury
That Frodo depends on words isn't that "Frodo" refers to words. "Frodo" refers to a hobbit, and hobbits exist only in a fictional piece of writing. — Michael

And how OLP might help here is with the criteria for referring as naming; and with how we use "existing" as, say: alive; or: among the records we have but not all that we might find; or: "real" as opposed to literary, but then what if we want to say hobbits have an actual impact on me, as much as people (who can come off as unreal)? or that some people are alive, but lack existence (their self does). I realize these are mostly questions, but part of the point is that you must answer these for yourself for them to be philosophically relevant (they are not statements), that you could continue to answer these types of questions to shed light on why we want a referent to be a certain type of thing.

Meta-semantics? — Cheshire

Semantics smacks of only about words, or limited in importance to language. When OLP examines the criteria of what we say when, we learn about our lives.

First, words are our tools...

Secondly, words are not (except in their own little corner) facts or things:...

...these surely are likely to be more sound, since they have stood up to the long test of the survival of the fittest, and more subtle, at least in all ordinary and reasonably practical matters... — Austin

The second [ quote ] both negates it and muddies the water. — Cheshire

He is alluding to the historical argument that corresponds words to "meanings" or "thoughts", as if these are facts or things--that they refer to/from them.

The third explains... it's authoritarian dismissal as the emperor's new wardrobe and served to maintain the religious madness we are still trying to cure. Did that make sense? Not asking for agreement; just is it a coherent claim about a thing? — Cheshire

Austin is defensively dismissive of philosophy's profundity over our ordinary criteria. Wittgenstein does a better job of investigating what philosophy wants in supplanting our ordinary criteria, and what it says about the human condition.

The point I should be making is that if you can't say something coherent about simply 'words', then stop. — Cheshire

The desire for "coherency" and the attitude that words are simple, are some of the reasons philosophy has theories of language (all of it), and meaning (in every case, for every thing). Your unwillingness to look further may hide the need for a certain answer.

That Frodo depends on words isn't that "Frodo" refers to words. — Michael

It might be. We would have to be careful not to confuse use and mention in fleshing it out. But I get that you don't think you are headed in that direction.

But that leads you to insist on,

"Frodo" refers to a hobbit, — Michael

Well, in the idiom of Lord of the Rings talk, yes. "Frodo" is how one particular hobbit is called by his peers. Perhaps it is presumptuous to expect to avoid that idiom.

and hobbits exist only in a fictional piece of writing. — Michael

Do you mean, in a fictive piece of writing? But then we are back to referring (indirectly, not confusing use and mention) to hobbit-pictures and hobbit-descriptions. You were adamant that you didn't want to go there.

So perhaps you mean fictional, but a fictional world? In which case, why say writing? I think it's because that (words and pictures) is indeed where you are headed, as you quite rightly try to transcend the fictive idiom, and talk literal sense.

OLP makes claims about the ordinary (non-metaphysical, let's say) criteria we have for different language in different situations, for the purpose of shedding light on philosophical problems. — Tony Nickles

Look me in the eye and claim this isn't bullshitting. I don't mean can you rationalize it either. Rather, is there really information content that could be further examined? In a meaningful way; as it applies to any philosophical problem called X. X=? — Cheshire

I edited that comment to say I provided Malcolm's example (about "I know") above, and Austin's as well. Cavell (in Must We Mean What We Say) draws out Austin's examination of "intention": his finding (claim) that one condition is that something has to be "phishy" compared to our ordinary criteria for an action in order for there to be (the possibility of) an intention (see the cows and donkeys above). Now if we have criteria for pulling off an action correctly (felicitously Austin will say), apart from true/false, then we have a rational way to discuss a moral situation (understanding excuses, judgment, etc.), and also a explanation of the "normative" nature of language/our actions--you may say anything you want; at a certain point you are no longer, say, apologizing, or, playing chess (Witt's example). That conversation is the one Socrates started, Kant tried to finish, Nietzsche pried open again; one which we want finished, and ahead of our actions, with certainty, etc. Philosophy itself is under investigation (again).

"What are the "Ordinary Language Philosophy" solutions to common philosophical problems? — Chaz

I guess I got sidetracked by the poor depiction of OLP that I didn't even answer the question (@chad @Manuel @god must be atheist @Amalac @Cheshire @Banno)

Stanley Cavell examines the Problem of the Other Minds in "Knowing and Acknowledging" and covers a lot of ground on skepticism in his work; Austin examines the standard of true/false statements in How to Do Things With Words; Wittgenstein examines why we want a referential picture of meaning and what that means about the limitations of knowledge, and then the ethical position we are in; Nietszche uses examples of the things we say and do to show that our moral realm is affected by our desires, and how history plays a part, as well as our part; Emerson and Thoreau are drawing out our ordinary criteria from so far inside that it almost doesn't seem like they are doing philosophy, or that it applies, say, to Descartes, when Emerson says "we dare not say, 'I think,' 'I am,' ". I would even argue that Socrates is doing OLP, but that he ignores all the criteria except the ones he has in his back pocket.

This thread is now an excellent example of why ordinary language philosophy is both important and useful. Especially the bit about focusing on specifics.

I edited that comment to say I provided Malcolm's example (about "I know") above, and Austin's as well. — Antony Nickles

OLP informs what it means to say "I know"? People have been arguing about what it is "I know" means. The philosophical problem best addressed by OLP is the phrase "I know". Are any of these true statements?

Yeah, that could be attempted trying to figure out what are the instances in which people use words to either refer or shout or anything else people do with words.

It just seems to me that finding conditions for these things to be very complex, involving many factors that often are taken for granted. Like paying chess, we use the word "queen" to designate a piece which can move freely on a board (this doesn't include throwing the queen at your opponents face) . Of course there need not be any physical queen (in terms of the plastic piece called a "queen") there, you could do it with a stone. Or with anything else, in fact you can use the chess piece which we call a "king" as a "queen".

You don't even need a chessboard to play chess, nor another player. You need to know the rules of chess, which are different from the rules of society. And so on. It can become extremely difficult to pin down all the conditions in which it is correct to say that we are using the words pertaining to a game of chess correctly, though we plainly do so.

Here's the deal with OLP, as I see it.

Philosophers often think that they are arguing over the way things are. However, on closer inspection, they are often apparently not, but are rather simply using language in different ways, or recommending that language be used in a different way to describe the same sort of thing, or engaging in some kind of grammatical confusion, or something like that. OLP is a series of heuristics and observations about how and why this happens.

Its primary doctrine (if you want to call it that) is a kind of meta-semantic thesis about how words get their meaning: the meaning of a word is (or supervenes on, or essentially involves) the way a linguistic community uses it. To know what it is a philosopher is claiming, we have to look at the words they're using to make their claims, and what they could possibly mean by those words. Because philosophers often use words in non-standard ways, it is often not clear what they mean – and they often shift between standard implications of the uses of their words, and arguments that crucially invoke non-standard meanings to draw their conclusions. One can't have it both ways, and once one sees that this is what is happening, the point at issue is revealed not to be about 'the way things are' in the sense the philosopher might have thought.

To see how this works, it helps to remember Malcom's parable of the wolf and the fox. Suppose two philosophers are in a forest, and they come upon a clearing. Before them stands a furry, four-legged animal. Philosopher A says, 'It's a fox!' Philosopher B says, 'No, it's wolf!' Now, they disagree somehow. Confused, Philosopher A says, 'But what do you mean? It's the wrong shape to be a wolf – its tail is too large, and it's too small.' Are we, Philosopher A wonders, having a factual dispute about what sort of animal stands before us? That is, does Philosopher B see something different than A, or have some different opinion about what, given what they both see, the animal is like?

But no, Philosopher B responds, 'Oh, of course, I grant all that. Nonetheless, it is a wolf.' And now Philosopher A is confused again. If the two agree on the actual properties of this animal, why does Philosopher B insist on calling it a wolf, and not a fox? Are they perhaps using the words 'fox' and 'wolf' in different ways? Does Philosopher B speak English differently, or is Philosopher A confused about the criteria for what makes a fox or a wolf, according to the use of the words? He asks to clarify, but Philosopher B responds, 'Oh no, I quite agree that you are using the word 'fox' in the normal way. And I agree that according to the normal use of the English word 'fox,' the sort of animal we see before us is just the sort to which that word, ordinarily used, is correctly applied. Nonetheless, it is not a fox, but a wolf.'

Now Philosopher A is stumped. What can Philosopher B mean, that it is a wolf? There are a few things Philosopher B might legitimately do – (1) he might say that given what 'fox' means ordinarily, the animal before them is not of that sort, that is, a kind of factual claim, or (2) he might say that, given what sort of animal is before him, he disagrees that the word 'fox' is actually ordinarily applied to it, or ought to be applied to it, and one ought to use the word 'wolf' instead for that sort of creature. Or he might be doing some mix of the two, since in making claims we are always simultaneously coordinating on how things are, and what the appropriate use of the words used to describe them is.

But there is something Philosopher B apparently cannot do coherently – he cannot say simultaneously that the ordinary use of 'fox' is such-and-such, and that that animal is an appropriate target of the word according to that ordinary use, and that it is nonetheless not a fox, and that this claim is not a mere linguistic matter, but something substantive the philosopher has discovered. The claim sounds shocking and radical – that animal is a wolf, not a fox! Incredible! But on inspection, the philosopher is either confused, or is expressing nascently some desire to refer to what is normally called a fox using a different word, 'wolf' – for some reason. Hence the issue, if there is one, is linguistic.

Now, you might think – do philosophers really do this sort of thing? Isn't that silly? Who would even make such a claim? But the answer is yes, they do, all the time – in fact, this constitutes a large majority of what philosophers do. A philosopher often takes some situation, and against the way it would normally be described, claims that some other, seemingly surprising thing, is true of it instead. But when pressed, it seems they neither disagree about what is actually happening (the way things are), nor do they overtly claim to be making some sort of linguistic judgment or revision. So what are they doing? It is at this crucial juncture, so very common in philosopher, that the OLPer will say the philosopher is caught in some sort of 'confusion.' Untangling that confusion is unfortunately not a sure thing, since all such confusions are different, and there is no surefire way of figuring out how it arose or why, and no guarantee that the confused philosopher will understand how to untangle it.

A favorite example of the OLPers was the claim made by Russell that, properly speaking, we do not see any physical objects at all – we only see parts of our brains. Yet, according to the way the word 'see' is used, we typically never see our brains, but do see physical objects. So what can Russell mean? In reflecting on what he could mean by this, as an exercise, you might come to understand an example of what the OLPer is talking about.

The desire for "coherency" and the attitude that words are simple, are some of the reasons philosophy has theories of language (all of it), and meaning (in every case, for every thing). Your unwillingness to look further may hide the need for a certain answer. — Antony Nickles

I believe you are attempting to communicate with me and I value your input. I'm not sure how to best put my response in the form of a riddle. But, I will try.

The belief , I do have, (all the time) is that language intends some coding and decoding of information. The success of the sounds to carry information was successful prior to talking about it in a strange way. If we didn't know what we were saying(when you say it), then we couldn't talk about it; could we? I'm skeptical of claims that regard insight into meaning delivered in the most difficult to comprehend way. A superior understanding of a communication tool implies a higher versatility; and some how this thread defies a desire to be understood. Perhaps, an over investment in nonsense makes us hard to understand?

Much better.

A favorite example of the OLPers was the claim made by Russell that, properly speaking, we do not see any physical objects at all – we only see parts of our brains. Yet, according to the way the word 'see' is used, we typically never see our brains, but do see physical objects. So what can Russell mean? In reflecting on what he could mean by this, as an exercise, you might come to understand an example of what the OLPer is talking about. — Snakes Alive

Russell is combining 'see' into a literal and non-literal sense to describe a concept.

OLP informs what it means to say "I know"? — Cheshire

OLP makes claims** about the implications of when, for example, we say, "I know your phone number". How it matters, what counts as an instance of it, in what ways it is meaningful to us. Here I am either confirming that you have given it to me, or I am making an assertion for which I can produce evidence to justify; i.e., that I can tell you what it is. But we also say, "I know" when someone makes a claim upon us, like, "I am in pain", which tells us about the problem of other minds, because we cannot confirm with knowledge that the other is in pain; so in this sense we acknowledge it, which also tells us something about our moral lives. **this is a type of claim I explain in an earlier discussion on OLP.

People have been arguing about what it is "I know" means. — Cheshire

If you are looking at the criteria for when/why we say it, the implications of saying it, the responsibilities we are expected to answer for; you are arguing about what knowledge is.

The philosophical problem best addressed by OLP is the phrase "I know". — Cheshire

I believe, I mean, I think, I understand, I see, I intended, I doubt...

Yeah, that could be attempted trying to figure out what are the instances in which people use words to either refer or shout or anything else people do with words. — Manuel

OLP is not trying to come up with "all the conditions" or instances, but just to compare the ordinary criteria we use in saying something like "I believe it might rain" (a hypothesis), or "I really believe in the Dodgers this year" (feel strongly), compared to the goal of some philosophy to differentiate belief from truth, and comparing the difference in the criteria. And this isn't to say OLP is trying to find or impose the "correct" way, though Austin may feel stronger about that.

For me OLP is mostly a method used to try and dissolve some traditional philosophical questions. I think that this is useful in some instances. On the other hand, I'm not so confident any single major problem in philosophy has been solved by OLP.

I think that topics like "what it's like", "mind-body problem" and a few others can be, if not solved, then thought about properly using ordinary language. But these issues continue going.

And who belongs in OLP is also a bit messy. As you say, Austin, Strawson and other get grouped under this heading. At the same time, it seems to me as if some facets OLP are be closely related to logical positivism.

Carnap comes to mind as someone who tried to use ordinary language to solve "big problems". Also A.J. Ayer.

I'm going to tread lightly here, as all I am trying to point out is that modern OLP is relevant and important to the future of philosophy.

on inspection, the philosopher is either confused, or is expressing nascently some desire to refer to what is normally called a fox using a different word, 'wolf' – for some reason. Hence the issue, if there is one, is linguistic. — Snakes Alive

Let's take the example of the skeptic, who wants to say knowledge is essentially groundless. Now most people would put OLP in the camp that says, "No it is not!", only by means of showing that the skeptic is confused about what they are saying (or saying meaning is use). But Wittgenstein (and, after, Cavell) are able to show that there is a truth to skepticism, that knowledge is limited--we are separate (see The Claim of Reason). Now this is not "linguistic"; it is part of the human condition.

The belief, I do have, (all the time) is that language intends some coding and decoding of information. The success of the sounds to carry information was successful prior to talking about it in a strange way. — Cheshire

What if the "coding" "language" "intends" is something hidden, forgotten? That we need to reflect on when it is not successful?

If we didn't know what we were saying(when you say it), then we couldn't talk about it; could we? — Cheshire

People mostly don't know what they are saying when they say it. Only the "what you are saying" is not the "meaning" of the words, but their criteria for identity, the way they are judged, the responsibilities we are expected to uphold, etc.--what makes a mistake different than an accident.

I'm skeptical of claims that regard insight into meaning delivered in the most difficult to comprehend way. — Cheshire

Some things you can't tell people--or that they are so resistant to, they can only see for themselves. And you better skip Emerson, Nietzsche, Heidegger, Wittgenstein, etc.

some how this thread defies a desire to be understood. — Cheshire

I think you mean a desire to understand; and that is not a desire to force something, constrain it, require of it a basic explanation.

Or get stuck on a raft with @Banno and mock each other while drifting, slowly, nowhere..

I think that topics like "what it's like", "mind-body problem" and a few others can be, if not solved, then thought about properly using ordinary language. But these issues continue going. — Manuel

Again, it's not to get to a problem "thought about properly" (with exceptions). And it is not using a certain type of language, words, terms. It is an investigation into the ordinary criteria we have for language that informs us about the criteria we set for philosophy. And the reason these problems continue going is because, for example, one drive of the human is to not need the human--philosophy's problems shed light on the human condition. OLP is just a more productive way of doing that I've found.

And who belongs in OLP is also a bit messy. As you say, Austin, Strawson and other get grouped under this heading. At the same time, it seems to me as if some facets OLP are be closely related to logical positivism. Carnap comes to mind as someone who tried to use ordinary language to solve "big problems". Also A.J. Ayer. — Manuel

Because it is not a theory (not knowledge--an explanation) and does not have a common purpose, the method is used for a lot of things. But logical positivism is the exact nemesis of Wittgenstein's later work, and A.J. Ayer is the example Austin uses of a "descriptive fallacy".

This thread is now an excellent example of why ordinary language philosophy is both important and useful. Especially the bit about focusing on specifics. — Banno

Meanwhile this discussion lies ignored with no response. Either way, not winning.

But Wittgenstein (and later Cavell) are able to show that there is a truth to skepticism, that knowledge is limited--we are separate (see The Claim of Reason). Now this is not "linguistic"; it is part of the human condition. — Antony Nickles

I'm wary of claims like this, since there is no a priori reason to listen to philosophers about what is or isn't part of the human condition – often, their claims about such things are just empirically wrong on anthropological grounds, and what appears to them to be 'part of the human condition' is just presented to them that way because they've read certain things.

As to the issue of skepticism, philosophers have long recognized how its claims are bound up with uses of the word 'know,' and there have been suggestions that since these sorts of words are used differently in different places, there actually was no single coherent problem the skeptics were even addressing. I tend to agree.

Skepticism itself appears only at specific cultural moments that involve a disillusionment with certain forms of dogmatism, and then gets reified into an abstract problem of 'under what conditions does x know that p?' and so forth. One of the things I like about OLP is that it is able to treat problems as they arise in their native home. The bad flip side of this is that its refusal to create an abstract theory or set of procedures prevents it from being very effective in a lot of practical environments.

I hadn't noticed it, and have not read Cavell, although I have addressed Kripke's Wittgenstein before. But I'm not sure there is more to be said than is set out in §201.

Or get stuck on a raft with Banno and mock each other while drifting, slowly, nowhere.. — Antony Nickles

Folk 'round here seem to be able to go nowhere without my assistance, mocking or otherwise.

Yes. Philosophers often invent technical terms which differ substantially from ordinary language use that leads to mistakes. "Representation", "content", "event" and so on.

You're right that positivism is in many ways the opposite of OLP in so far as they used different Wittgensteins as a point of departure from which these philosophies developed.

The similarity I see is that both seek clarity of exposition in trying to deal with traditional problems, both focusing on language use as a way to proceed. I didn't mean to imply that OLP had a theory of knowledge. It's a method as you say.

Not that you say this at all, but it is a mistake to think that OLP (or language-use philosophy in general) originated in the 20th century in terms of having no precursors. Thomas Reid's work on the topic of language use is very interesting as he focuses on the way "the vulgar" (the common folk) use to talk about problems that philosophers get engrossed with. It's interesting and insightful to find aspects of OLP style thinking back then.

EDIT: To be fair, I should speak of language use philosophy as opposed to OLP as I don't adhere to it.