Each word that is ‘shared’ between us is a different sense of the word for you than it is for me. It must be in order for there to be an ‘us’. — Joshs

Complex terrain. In one sense, I agree. No token is ever used exactly the same way twice (is ever used in exactly the same context. That can't be a theorem, for we can't really do math with these tokens. (Nor can that be a theorem.) Does that make an 'us' possible? Perhaps. But you stress that the self is already a 'we' or an 'us' (and I agree), so perhaps the sign 'us' is more strongly rooted in us having separate bodies. Why were we ever tempted toward the singularity of the self? Why just one proper name on the birth certificate and gravestone? It's how we happen roll...and probably a more effective method for training those bodies to work together.

I am already an other to myself when I talk or think to myself. The words I ‘use’ to think to myself come back to me in the instant I use them as if they came from another. I am changed in using my own words. You are a further other to my other that is myself. — Joshs

I agree with all of this. I am a further others to the others that you are to yourselves. Or we am.

Wittgenstein begins culture between you and me , but culture begins most primordially between me and myself, as I find myself always changed from moment to moment via temporality. — Joshs

Here our paths diverge. I don't find it this prioritization of the single body plausible. Of course it's important, and we can imagine revolutions born in 'internal' 'monologues.' Granted. But bodies want food, love, sex, status. Even narcissism enjoys an image of how the self is seen, if only by an ideal other, a community to come.

What are good looks, money in the bank, and fine words about the great dead philosophers without others to impress, seduce, protect, intimidate, fuck, and flee?

The shifts in context ushered in by my temporally unfolding self-talk already move me through a multitude of language games , prior to my engagement with others. — Joshs

Don't forget that it's parents (or the like, and usually many others) who teach baby to talk in the first place. The boy in the bubble doesn't need excuses, justifications, seductions, outright lies. I don't deny that after years of immersion with others that then a body could wander off into the woods to talk to itself in new and terrible ways.

My understanding of the PLA is that it would seem to be impossible to construct an idiosyncratic language of my own without translating it into the (public) language I have learned in order to know what my novel words refer to. This is all the more true of non-ostensive words, but is also true of ostensive words it seems to me.

I would be interested in what others think of this passage. What would be in between pain and the expression of pain? Is there something there that could be referenced? I would think not. I'm not sure what Wittgenstein is getting at. What is it that he's trying to get us to think about? — Sam26

What lies between pain and the expression of pain is some sort of judgement. The determinist will say that this is not a judgement at all, it's an automatic reaction, cause and effect; hit me and I will react. ,But using words as a form of expression is seen to sometimes consist of conscious judgement. So word use seems to cross the boundary between automatic reaction, and conscious judgement, consisting of some of each.

A private language user, if fae's not sure if fae's using the sign, say, S, correctly has only one option: ask faerself about whether S is being used correctly or not but fae doesn't know that; isn't that why fae's asking faerself. It's like a judge in court who's unsure about a certain article of the law and then consults faerself about it; fae doesn't know. — TheMadFool

You seem to be using the premise that one must be absolutely certain before judging something as correct. But that's really opposite to reality. There are degrees of certainty, but we never obtain to the level of absolute. Nor do we require absolute certainty before proceeding with an action. So fae can use a sign, and we can interpret this as meaning that fae has in some sense judged it as being correct for the situation, even while maintaining doubt as to whether it truly is the best sign for the situation.

There is an entire range of degrees of doubt which we could look at. Down at the base is trail and error. There is a judgement that the thing tried ought to be tried, so that is a judgement of "correct", even though the probability for success, from the trial is known to be very low. At the top, there is a healthy respect for the fact that even when we proceed with the highest degree of certainty , there is a faint possibility that things will go wrong, accidents do happen. So even when we proceed with the highest degree of certainty we ought to keep in mind the possibility of mistake.

So your example doesn't give us anything real to go on. The person using the sign doesn't need to be certain, and in reality ought to never have that attitude of absolute certainty. So the second guessing oneself, which you are talking about, though it does occur, is not a necessary aspect of using a sign, and it ought not be presented as if it is.

You seem to be using the premise that one must be absolutely certain before judging something as correct. But that's really opposite to reality. There are degrees of certainty, but we never obtain to the level of absolute. Nor do we require absolute certainty before proceeding with an action. So fae can use a sign, and we can interpret this as meaning that fae has in some sense judged it as being correct for the situation, even while maintaining doubt as to whether it truly is the best sign for the situation — Metaphysician Undercover

Fair point but, from what I gather, the certainty Wittgenstein is concerned about regarding whether or not the sign "S" is being used correctly applied can be treated in a relative sense. We aren't as sure of the sign "S" and its referent as we are about the referent of "water", the former being private and the latter being public. Therein lies the rub.

The person using the sign doesn't need to be certain — Metaphysician Undercover

You mean to say, a private linguist doesn't need to be certain what a sign S refers to in faer private, inner world? So, S is like a variable and can stand for any sensation, this particular category of experience being chosen by Wittgenstein out of necessity? What S stands for can change at any time; a private linguist might, for instance, say, "oh, this feels right for S" and run with that. That's exactly what Wittgenstein claimed will happen - the notion of whether a word is being used appropriately/properly is N/A. What do you think this leads to? I'm curious.

I wish @Banno would chime in, he's a Wittgenstein zealot! :grin:

Continuing with the end of PI 246.

I think the important thing is to stick to what Wittgenstein is saying, try not to get off on tangents.

"Other people cannot be said to learn of my sensations only from my behaviour,--for I cannot be said to learn of them. I have them." That we don't learn our sensations is important to the understanding of what it means to know. I'm thinking back to the statement made by Gertie in the OP, "Experiential states exist as private certain knowledge to the experiencing subject." It's common for people to think this. Why? Because we're able to talk to ourselves, so we think we can just use words (our e.g., know) willy nilly, i.e., as we have our internal conversations, and as we refer to our internal sensations. We forget that we learn language socially, i.e., meaning is socially derived. The social aspects of language put limits on what we can do internally with language. What we can do internally has to be directly connected with the social parts of language. Knowing is not something I can do strictly with myself, i.e., in isolation from social contexts. Why? Because of the rule-following aspects of language. In other words, my internal conversations are constantly being reinforced by the rules of language, and what I've learned socially. This, I believe, is why Wittgenstein gives the example of having a private language, and the associated rule-following that necessarily goes along with language. The rules of use must be done in conjunction with other people. Otherwise there is no way for rules of use to get a foothold. How do I check myself in a strictly private language? This is why Wittgenstein makes the comment, "Whatever seems right to you, is right." Rule-following will become whatever you think it is.

However, someone might argue that once we learn the rules of use socially, then we can apply the word know to private sensations. The reason is, we're able to go back and forth between our internal conversations and our social conversations, so we're able to apply and check the rules of use. So, their argument might be, we know what it means to know, so we know how to justify a belief. We know this is our pain, because we're the ones experiencing it, just as we know that the orange juice is sweet because we've tasted it. We often know things through sensory experience. So, the same can be said of Moore's proposition, he knows this is his hand through sensory experience, and because this is what we mean by hand linguistically. So, isn't Moore correct, and Wittgenstein wrong? How would you argue against this?

Well, only I can know whether I am really in pain; another person can only surmise it.—In one way this is wrong, and in another nonsense. — Sam26

Note that you're changing grammatical forms and tenses, which changes the analysis and it could very well be identifying something idiosyncratic to English and not to language generally.

Telling someone that "I know I'm in pain" could have a meaningful use if we wish to be creative enough, but assuming the "I know" is necessarily superfluous in that sentence, that superfluousness would occur only in the present tense while the experience were actually occurring and streaming through one's consciousness.

It's a different result where you speak in the hypothetical (as you did above), where you say "only I can know whether I am really in pain." That does make sense because it clarifies the fact that no one else has access to my phenomenological state. The removal of the "I know" from that sentence changes its meaning. That the statement "I know I'm in pain" might contain a superfluous "I know" doesn't dictate that it will in all forms.

If you change the tense, you have a similar result, as in "I know I was in pain yesterday." The "I know" isn't superfluous and it's not necessarily being supplied just for emphasis, but it could actually be an assertion of a recollection that does require a justification. If you told me that I was not in pain yesterday, but I specifically recall that I was, but you keep telling me I wasn't because for some reason you choose to disbelieve me, my insistence I was in pain is based upon my justification that I remember my recollection (that was never reduced to language) of my pain. Perhaps something might jar my memory and I'll remember, "Oh yeah, I wasn't in pain yesterday; it was Monday I was in pain."

I'd also say that if you try to make "know" a term of art where it cannot ever be used except to mean that which requires a justification (which is the knowledge = justified true belief epistemological theory), then you violate Wittgenstein's own non-essentialist's claims as it relates to definitions. For something to fall into "knowledge" it only has to have the family resemblance of knowledge. It's not required that it contain X as one of its essential features. Here you're claiming that X is a justification.

As the child learns how to associate language with their pain, the child is taught new pain-behavior. This, Wittgenstein points out, doesn’t mean that the word pain really means crying, the word pain replaces crying. It doesn’t describe it. — Sam26

It doesn't follow why crying and saying "I am in pain" would ever be synonymous in terms of what they communicate and that one would replace the other. Saying "I am in pain" does not equate to crying in terms of what is conveyed to the observer.

Don't forget that it's parents (or the like, and usually many others) who teach baby to talk in the first place. The boy in the bubble doesn't need excuses, justifications, seductions, outright lies. I don't deny that after years of immersion with others that then a body could wander off into the woods to talk to itself in new and terrible ways. — Zugzwang

I should mention that my approach to language and intersubjectivity is what I call ‘radically temporal’. Other philosophers I’ve found who ground experience in a radical notion of temporality include Heidegger, Derrida and Eugene Gendlin. Striking features of their work include the abandonment of the distinction between affect, cognition-intention and will, and their assertion that everything we ‘absorb from our participation in language and culture has a peculiar ‘ownness’ about it , such that an ongoing thematic self-consistency characterizes all our engenders with others.
From this vantage , what is is interesting about the fact that a baby must first learn language from its social world before it can talk to itself is the nature of the way what it learns is organized with respect to its history.

That is, everything I assimilate from my world , either perceptually or in terms of formal
language, can only be understood by me via dimensions of similarity with respect to my current outlook. I own everything I learn in a way that makes it impossible or to claim that I simply ‘share’ the senses of words and concepts with others in my culture. Even when someone lives in a culture which is tightly conformist, one neither passively absorbs, nor jointly negotiates the normative practices of that culture, but validates one's own construction of the world using the resources of that culture.

Im going to borrow from a paper I wrote to elaborate here:

Rather than a retreat from a thoroughgoing notion of sociality, radically temporal approaches achieve a re-situating of the site of the social as a more originary and primordial grounding than that of the over-determined abstractions represented by discursive intersubjectivities. Those larger patterns of human belonging abstracted from local joint activity, which Merleau-Ponty's intercorporeal approach discerns in terms of cultural language practices, hide within themselves a more primary patterning. While our experience as individuals is characterized by stable relations of relative belonging or alienation with respect to other individuals and groups, the site of this interactivity, whether we find ourselves in greater or lesser agreement with a world within which we are enmeshed, has a character of peculiar within-person continuity. It also has a character of relentless creative activity that undermines and overflows attempts to understand human action based on between-person configurations or fields. We may identify to a greater or lesser extent with various larger paradigmatic communities, delicately united by intertwining values. But the contribution of each member of a community to the whole would not originate at the level of spoken or bodily language interchange among voices; such constructs repress as much as they reveal. Even in a community of five individuals in a room, I, as participant, can perceive a locus of integrity undergirding the participation of each of the others to the responsive conversation. To find common ground in a polarized political environment is not to find an intersect among combatants, a centrifugal ground of commonality, but to find as many intersects as there are participants. Each person perceives the basis of the commonality in the terms of their own construct system.

In my dealings with other persons, I would be able to discern a thread of continuity organizing their participation in dialogue with me, dictating the manner and extent to which I can be said to influence their thinking and they mine. My thinking can not properly be seen as `determined' by his response, and his ideas are not simply `shaped' by my contribution to our correspondence. The extent to which I could be said to be embedded within a particular set of cultural practices would be a function of how closely other persons I encounter resonate with my own ongoing experiential process. I can only shape my action to fit socially legitimate goals or permitted institutionalized forms to the extent that those goals or forms are already implicated in my ongoing experiential movement. Even then, what is implicated for me is not `the' social forms, but aspects hidden within these so-called forms which are unique to the organizational structure of my construct system; what I perceive as socially `permitted' rhetorical argumentation is already stylistically distinctive in relation to what other participants perceive as permitted. Each individual who feels belonging to an extent in a larger ethico-political collectivity perceives that collectivity's functions in a unique, but peculiarly coherent way relative to their own history, even when they believe that in moving forward in life their behavior is guided by the constraints imposed by essentially the `same' discursive conventions as the others in their community.”

Recall that the later Wittgenstein was negatively reappraising the phenomenalist doctrine of logical atomism that he, Russell and Mach previously assumed, where names are interpreted as stand-ins for sense data as suggested by the picture theory of meaning. But this solipsistic doctrine implies a fixed and idiosyncratic relationship between word meanings and the perceptions or mental states of a solitary speaker of the language, which in turn implies that the public meaning of such names in a community of speakers is synonymous to the use of indexicals like this, him, here, it, with names only communicating raw presence among speakers without a shareable accompanying description of what is perceived. Such a conception of names essentially ignores context, and in particular the (overwhelmingly complicated) inferential semantics that constitutes the descriptive function of names, both in the case of public communication and in the case of private introspection. As Wittgenstein illustrates, the actual usage of words , both in public and in private, ultimately defies any purported private or public definitions, except in the most trivial and useless cases. As with scientific and mathematics terminology, the definition of a natural language is forever playing catch-up after the facts.

My understanding of the PLA is that it would seem to be impossible to construct an idiosyncratic language of my own without translating it into the (public) language I have learned in order to know what my novel words refer to. This is all the more true of non-ostensive words, but is also true of ostensive words it seems to me. — Janus

That’s how I read it too. But I want to quibble with it.
Let’s say that I produce a new philosophy with new concepts. If I write it in English , then it is filled with commonly understood , simple nouns , verbs and adjectives. But the core of the thesis is set of terms that I am trying to introduce to others ( or perhaps I only intend the writing for me to read). I may begin with what I assume are familiar, conventional ways that others are likely to approach the interpretation of my ideas , and then attempt to shift their thinking in a different direction.

But I can very well fail to do this. In such a case , my readers may complain that my terms are incoherent , or they will equally likely say they understand them perfectly well , by which they mean that they are misreading them in the old conventional way.

So have I created a private or a public language? It is public in the sense that the grammatical
structure is conventional ( subject-predicate etc). But this not need be so. I could transform the grammar, as Heidegger does with the word ‘is’. The point is that what I write will be recognizable to others in some form, at some level. At r very least , others will know that I am trying to communicate something. But is this all that is required for a language to be considered public? Isn’t it true that I must be able to translate my idiosyncratic language into the conventional language to understand myself? But how exactly do I understand myself as I go through a long process of transforming my thinking? Is my starting point a ‘public’ language? Is my point of reference a way of understanding words that is common to a community that uses them? Certainly if my aim is to communicate with others, then my assumption is that my word will be understood at some level. But what if I also know that I will not be understood well , because my use of words invokes senses that I find others dont share. It is a poor fit.

I may not initially feel this way about my relation to others via language , but as I progress in my ideas, I find that while I begin by translating my new concepts into what I perceive as public or conventional language, eventually in y writing I am no longer referring back to that public sphere but instead to my own writing of an earlier stage in my progress. In other words, my ‘public’ becomes my own past, and the further and further away from others’ thinking I get in my theorizing , the more and more irrelevant that initial ‘public’ becomes for me. Wittgenstein said if a lion could talk we wouldn’t understand him. That is true of original philosophic work also.

It seems that what you are talking about is extending the common meanings of the public language by working imaginatively with possible associations. Poets do it all the time.That is a different matter than creating a wholly novel private language from scratch I would say.

Wittgenstein said if a lion could talk we wouldn’t understand him. That is true of original philosophic work also. — Joshs

I never felt that saying is quite right. Why would we not understand, or at least be able to come to understand, the lion if he speaks a language we are familiar with? If he doesn't speak a language we are familiar with our inability to understand would be on account of the fact that we didn't speak the language; and extremely common human situation.

Fair point but, from what I gather, the certainty Wittgenstein is concerned about regarding whether or not the sign "S" is being used correctly applied can be treated in a relative sense. We aren't as sure of the sign "S" and its referent as we are about the referent of "water", the former being private and the latter being public. Therein lies the rub. — TheMadFool

Some words, like "water", we are very sure about, other words, we are less sure about. It's generally a matter of being familiar with the word and its use. Why would "S" be any different? The use here, which one would become familiar with, is one's own use. But I don't see how the judgement of "correct" would be any different in principle. In the one case consistent with the use of others would be the criteria for the judgement, and in the other case consistent with one's own use would be the criteria.

Either way, if we assume that there is a first use of any word, there is no basis for a judgement of "correct" in that first use. And; if a following use is different, or what you'd call incorrect in relation to that other use, it is still a use, and serves as the basis for a further judgement of correct. So the word could then have two correct uses even though one of these began as incorrect . This I admit could pose a problem to the private user. But it's not a problem that couldn't be overcome, the person would just have to choose between the two.

You mean to say, a private linguist doesn't need to be certain what a sign S refers to in faer private, inner world? — TheMadFool

No, I mean in any use of language one does not have to be certain of what the words mean. That's just the way language is. It's that type of thing, something we can do, without being certain of what we are doing. There is no fatal consequence, for example, for making a mistake, so we can proceed rather carelessly.

So, S is like a variable and can stand for any sensation, this particular category of experience being chosen by Wittgenstein out of necessity? What S stands for can change at any time; a private linguist might, for instance, say, "oh, this feels right for S" and run with that. That's exactly what Wittgenstein claimed will happen - the notion of whether a word is being used appropriately/properly is N/A. What do you think this leads to? I'm curious. — TheMadFool

Looks exactly like what happens to language; word meaning evolves and changes as people are free to use words however they please.

It seems that what you are talking about is extending the common meanings of the public language by working imaginatively with possible associations. Poets do it all the time.That is a different matter than creating a wholly novel private language from scratch I would say. — Janus

Isnt this the question of whether there is anything new under the sun, or at least now we are to understand the idea of novelty? If we present a 5 year old child, or a dog, with ‘e=mc2’ , how do we talk about the distance between what they perceive in the image and what those of us familiar with the physics perceive in it? gould we say that , relative to the dog and the 5 year , we are extending the meanings they are encountering by a certain amount? One might want to counter that extending the meaning of a concept is different than extending a language within which concepts are articulated. But I guess my point is that, in theory we should be able to extend the meanings of the words of a language to the point where we can no more call these common than we can my experience of e=mc2 versus a dog or 5 year old.

If two people are understanding the senses of the words of a ‘common’ language in significantly different ways , even if they are able to engage with each other at some level with it, why call the language ‘common’? Why not say there are two somewhat similar languages being used? If I understand the sense of a word in one way and you understand it in a slightly different way, are you and we sharing a common sense , or two distinctly different but related senses? Isnt this true for every aspect of a ‘common’ language that each of us participate in?
We know that new languages evolve from
old ones gradually. But don’t they do this one person at a time? Don’t each of us , whenever we use our ‘common’ language , in some minuscule way already speak our own variant? I could take this even further and suggest that every time I use my language I am reinventing it in some slight way, and thus every moment I am using a different language.

Don’t each of us , whenever we use our ‘common’ language , in some minuscule way already speak our own variant? — Joshs

I would agree with that because we all have different sets of associations that have come to be attached to words and phrases. If I extend the meaning of a term in a completely novel way it must be done in accordance with some logic, it must make sense in some way we can all understand, in order to be, or at least come to be, meaningful to others.

Some words, like "water", we are very sure about, other words, we are less sure about. It's generally a matter of being familiar with the word and its use. Why would "S" be any different? The use here, which one would become familiar with, is one's own use. But I don't see how the judgement of "correct" would be any different in principle. In the one case consistent with the use of others would be the criteria for the judgement, and in the other case consistent with one's own use would be the criteria — Metaphysician Undercover

The problem is two-fold. Suppose you're the provate linguist.

1. The referent of S is known only to you. So, no possibility that you might inform a second person of what S means. There goes your chance of being able to establish a corroborative backup in case you ever forget what S means.

2. Suppose now you doubt what S means. You and you alone can clear this doubt (from 1) but you can't because you're in doubt. You can't expect a person, viz. yourself, who's uncertain what S means to tell you what S means.

What does it mean to use S correctly? Well, it means to never get its meaning wrong but from 1 and 2 (above), this is impossible. If you ever doubt what S means, you're in thick soup - only you know what S means but now you don't. What happens next is incorrect use of S unless you're grotesquely lucky and all of your guesses are correct.

No, I mean in any use of language one does not have to be certain of what the words mean. That's just the way language is. It's that type of thing, something we can do, without being certain of what we are doing. There is no fatal consequence, for example, for making a mistake, so we can proceed rather carelessly — Metaphysician Undercover

The private language argument's primary goal is to demonstrate that language is a social entity. How language operates in a group - meaning is use - is an altogether different story. Suffice it to say that a public language has standards that determine correct/incorrect usage of words that's free of circularity.

That's what I think anyway. I'm not as certain about my reading of Wittgenstein as I'd like to be.

1. The referent of S is known only to you. So, no possibility that you might inform a second person of what S means. There goes your chance of being able to establish a corroborative backup in case you ever forget what S means. — TheMadFool

This is not an issue because the possibility of informing a second person of what S means is highly unlikely in the first place. "S" refers to one's own sensation, a feeling that a person has. How do you propose that you can show another person your own feeling, to inform that other person what S means? The idea that you might inform another person of what S means has no place here. So this is just a bad premise.

2. Suppose now you doubt what S means. You and you alone can clear this doubt (from 1) but you can't because you're in doubt. You can't expect a person, viz. yourself, who's uncertain what S means to tell you what S means. — TheMadFool

As I said, you can never completely rid yourself of this type of doubt, to be absolutely certain, but this does not prevent us from proceeding. In other words, it's impossible to clear this doubt, and that's just a fact of life, accept it.

What does it mean to use S correctly? Well, it means to never get its meaning wrong but from 1 and 2 (above), this is impossible. If you ever doubt what S means, you're in thick soup - only you know what S means but now you don't. What happens next is incorrect use of S unless you're grotesquely lucky and all of your guesses are correct. — TheMadFool

Right, it's impossible to ever know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the correct use of a word. But contrary to what you are saying here, this does not entail that "incorrect use" is inevitable. It just implies that there is no such thing as the correct use of a word. Once you come to understand this, and accept it as a fact, your doubt will be quelled because you will no longer be inclined to doubt whether or not your usage is correct. You will see that you are free to use words however you please.

Right, it's impossible to ever know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the correct use of a word. — Metaphysician Undercover

This must be hell for English teachers. Why is it impossible?

1. The referent of S is known only to you. So, no possibility that you might inform a second person of what S means. There goes your chance of being able to establish a corroborative backup in case you ever forget what S means.
— TheMadFool

This is not an issue because the possibility of informing a second person of what S means is highly unlikely in the first place. "S" refers to one's own sensation, a feeling that a person has. How do you propose that you can show another person your own feeling, to inform that other person what S means? The idea that you might inform another person of what S means has no place here. So this is just a bad premise. — Metaphysician Undercover

:ok: We're on the same page. I wanted to make sure.

2. Suppose now you doubt what S means. You and you alone can clear this doubt (from 1) but you can't because you're in doubt. You can't expect a person, viz. yourself, who's uncertain what S means to tell you what S means.
— TheMadFool

As I said, you can never completely rid yourself of this type of doubt, to be absolutely certain, but this does not prevent us from proceeding. In other words, it's impossible to clear this doubt, and that's just a fact of life, accept it. — Metaphysician Undercover

The issue is not about the doubt itself but how we might address that doubt.

What does it mean to use S correctly? Well, it means to never get its meaning wrong but from 1 and 2 (above), this is impossible. If you ever doubt what S means, you're in thick soup - only you know what S means but now you don't. What happens next is incorrect use of S unless you're grotesquely lucky and all of your guesses are correct.
— TheMadFool

Right, it's impossible to ever know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the correct use of a word. But contrary to what you are saying here, this does not entail that "incorrect use" is inevitable. It just implies that there is no such thing as the correct use of a word. Once you come to understand this, and accept it as a fact, your doubt will be quelled because you will no longer be inclined to doubt whether or not your usage is correct. You will see that you are free to use words however you please. — Metaphysician Undercover

I don't think this is what Wittgenstein wants to convey. There is such a thing as correct usage of words. How else is this conversation taking place and how are we to read Wittgenstein's works if there were no such thing? :chin:

This must be hell for English teachers. Why is it impossible? — Luke

Of course, English teachers always tell their students, "Your use of a word is just as good as any other use." :wink:

"'Only you can know if you had that intention.' Wittgenstein, explains how we might use such a statement, i.e., how it might make sense to use know in this way. The only way it would make sense, is as an expression of doubt, not as an expression of knowing. Only you could know? What does that mean? In other words, as he said earlier, you don't know it, you have it, viz., the intention, in this context.

This must be hell for English teachers. Why is it impossible? — Luke

No English teacher I have ever known has attempted to teach me the correct use of a word. Such a thing is impossible because no two particular sets of circumstances are exactly the same and successful usage varies according to the circumstances. A word is like any other tool, and there is no such thing as the correct use of a tool, it is used differently by different people in different situations. That there is such a thing as "the correct use" is just a false assumption that some people make.

"Good", "bad", "worse", and "better", implying a variance by degrees is a completely distinct concept from the dichotomous "correct" and "incorrect".

I don't think this is what Wittgenstein wants to convey. — TheMadFool

Well I probably am not in total agreement with Wittgenstein on this point, but it is actually very difficult to decipher exactly what he has said to be able to determine such agreement. And, the fact that his use of words can, and is, interpreted in many different ways, is evidence that there is no such thing as "the correct way". In fact, if you pay very close attention to his use of words, you may notice that what he appears to be saying with his words, is something inconsistent with what he is doing with his words.

This is a form of hypocrisy which he presents us with, when you are doing something different with your words, from what you say you are doing. It's the foundation of deception. Take a look at the inverted form of the liar paradox ("I am not lying") for a very simple example of that type of hypocrisy.. The reason why it becomes a paradox upon inversion, is that we cannot find the principles to allow for the lack of consistency between what the person is saying and what the person is doing. If meaning is use, then saying something is doing something. But this presents us with a very peculiar problem of accounting for the real existence of deception. Deception is doing something different from what you are saying, and for this to occur there must be a separation between the meaning of what you are saying, and what you are doing. Therefore the two are different, as evidenced by the reality of deception. So deception successfully demonstrates that meaning is something other than use.

There is such a thing as correct usage of words. How else is this conversation taking place and how are we to read Wittgenstein's works if there were no such thing? :chin: — TheMadFool

I think I already sort of explained how this conversation can take place without such a thing as "the correct use of a word". We proceed in our actions, and have success in our actions without the need of determining "the best", or "the correct" way of doing things. Actions are the means to ends, and we have many choices as to the particular means to any end, which is something more general. So we choose and we proceed. If we are unsuccessful we might designate that particular way as "incorrect", as commonly happens in trial and error. But contrary to popular opinion, the fact that many ways can be designated as "incorrect", does not imply that there is one "correct way".. Actually it would be more likely that there are many correct ways. And if there are many correct ways, This rules out "the correct way", though some might still be better than others.

Well I probably am not in total agreement with Wittgenstein on this point, but it is actually very difficult to decipher exactly what he has said to be able to determine such agreement. And, the fact that his use of words can, and is, interpreted in many different ways, is evidence that there is no such thing as "the correct way" — Metaphysician Undercover

That implies, paradoxically, that neither did Wittgenstein know what he was talking about, nor is it true that the two of us can or should understand each other. Case closed!

And yet most of the times in general life we understand people and get the gist. Depends on the intelligence of the listener/reader.

Wittgenstein has some good ideas but he is a pedant and lousy writer and incomplete philosopher.
@Metaphysician Undercover

This article provides relevant context regarding the history and evolution of Wittgenstein's later thought. The SEP's article on private language is also recommended reading.

In my opinion, it only makes sense to discuss Wittgenstein's remarks when they situated in the context of the traditions of both analytic philosophy and phenomenology.

No English teacher I have ever known has attempted to teach me the correct use of a word. — Metaphysician Undercover

Nobody taught you how to speak English?

Do not most people learn language at home in dialogue with their parents?

And all people have an instinct for language. They are not strictly learning from scratch,but expanding their language instincts.

Do not most people learn language at home in dialogue with their parents? — Ambrosia

Yes.

And all people have an instinct for language. They are not strictly learning from scratch,but expanding their language instincts. — Ambrosia

People may have an instinct for language (although I'm not sure what that means, exactly). However, nobody knows English, or any other language, without being taught it.

Well,we all have universal principles of language and grammar in our instincts.

Well,we all have universal principles of language and grammar in our instincts. — Ambrosia

Having an instinct for language is not the same as having a language.

"The proposition 'Sensations are private' is comparable to: 'One plays patience [solitaire] by oneself (PI 248].'" The confusion is a grammatical one, not an empirical one. How else could you play patience? And, in what sense are sensations private? These kinds of propositions are also similar to others that Wittgenstein points out, viz., "Every rod has a length." or "This body has extension."

My understanding of Wittgenstein's grammar is that grammar sets out the rules governing the moves we make in language. Similar to the rules of chess governing the game of chess, viz., the moves. This is a correct move, this is an incorrect move. So, grammar is what we use to govern whether someone has made a correct move, to reiterate the point. The rules are difficult to grasp because some rules are explicit, but others are implicit and not easily understood.