Consider, you might ask me what a horse is. I'd say it's the thing I'd name "horse". — Michael

Then I'd ask if you were an idiot. That's not the appropriate way to answer that question, obviously.

Horses aren't just the things we call horses -- for example, if we stopped calling anything 'horse,' there would still be horses. Unless you have the incredible power of making all horses disappear by never uttering 'horse.'

I'm sorry if my fuse is short, but I'm so tired of this line of thought.

The fact that different languages can represent the same thing. The languages are the tokens while the object in question is the type.

Horses aren't just the things we call horses -- for example, if we stopped calling anything 'horse,' there would still be horses. Unless you have the incredible power of making all horses disappear by never uttering 'horse.' — The Great Whatever

I'm not saying that if we stop calling this animal "horse" then it disappears. I don't know how you've managed to derive that from what I've said.

That's not the appropriate way to answer that question, obviously.

Then how would I answer it? Perhaps by showing you a horse? So let's say I show you two animals. Which one is the horse and which one is the rabbit? The horse is the one that, if shown to you, would predictably have you respond with "yes, that is a horse" (because the output "yes, that is a horse" is (one of) the appropriate thing(s) to say given the input).

So I think my answer was quite appropriate.

I'm not saying that if we stop calling this animal "horse" then it disappears. I don't know how you've managed to derive that from what I've said. — Michael

If a horse is that which you call 'horse,' it follows that if you do not call anything 'horse,' there are no horses. If there used to be horses but aren't any more, that means all the horses disappeared. QED.

Then how would I answer it? Perhaps by showing you a horse? — Michael

YES. That is what a SANE person would do, as opposed to a brain-damaged OLP philosopher.

So let's say I show you two animals. Which one is the horse and which one is the rabbit? The horse is the one that, if shown to you, would predictably have you respond with "yes, that is a horse". — Michael

No, the horse is the one that HAS A MANE. Christ.

If a horse is that which you call 'horse,' it follows that if you do not call anything 'horse,' there are no horses. If there used to be horses but aren't any more, that means all the horses disappeared. QED. — The Great Whatever

I'm not saying "X is a horse iff I name it 'horse'".

I'm not saying "X is a horse iff I name it 'horse'". — Michael

Consider, you might ask me what a horse is. I'd say it's the thing I'd name "horse". — Michael

iff clauses are definitions. If someone is asking you what a horse is, they're roughy asking a definitional claim: what are the conditions that make something a horse?

"The things I call 'horse'" is obviously a totally uncooperative answer to that question, and everyone except OLP philosophers understands this.

iff clauses are definitions. If someone is asking you what a horse is, they're roughy asking a definitional claim: what are the conditions that make something a horse?

"The things I call 'horse'" is obviously a totally uncooperative answer to that question, and everyone except OLP philosophers understands this. — The Great Whatever

I can't list the conditions that must be satisfied to make something a horse (if we use your example above then consider that not all horses have manes), or show you a horse (unless we met in real life). What I can do, however, is ask you to consider the sort of thing that you'd have to see to respond with "that's a horse". Well, that thing is a horse.

Obviously it won't help someone who wouldn't know when to say "that's a horse", but I'm confident that you're not such a someone.

I can't list the conditions that must be satisfied to make something a horse. What I can do, however,is ask you to consider the sort of thing that you'd have to see to respond with "that's a horse". Well, that thing is a horse. — Michael

No, you can't do that, because then there's just a question, okay, so what the hell do you call horse?

In response to that, you'd do what a SANE person would do, and POINT TO A HORSE. I find it unbelievable that you think that "consider the sort of thing that you'd have to see to respond with "that's a horse"" is something people ever actually do in response to these questions (they don't), or that it is in any way elucidating (it isn't).

If you ask "what's a horse?" and someone responds "the thing you call 'horse'" you know they're (1) an idiot or (2) a philosopher.

In response to that, you'd do what a SANE person would do, and POINT TO A HORSE. I find it unbelievable that you think that "consider the sort of thing that you'd have to see to respond with "that's a horse"" is something people ever actually do in response to these questions (they don't), or that it is in any way elucidating (it isn't). — The Great Whatever

And how can I point to a horse during an online discussion? All I can do is tell you something. So what sort of thing can I tell you? I could perhaps list the necessary and sufficient conditions, but of course such a thing is impossible, and then of course someone could ask me what legs and manes and horseshoes are.

At some point one has to assume that the other understands the description. And what does understanding the description consist of? Knowing the empirical situation in which such a description is the appropriate thing to use. So I've just cut to chase and gone straight to this.

And when it comes to something like grief or red or happiness, I can't even break it down into some components parts (like I could do in a generalized way with horses). All I can do is say that they're the things that I name "grief", "red", or "happiness", and hopefully there are things that you name "grief", "red", and "happiness", and so you understand what I mean.

And what does understanding the description consist of? Knowing the empirical situation in which such a description is the appropriate thing to use. — Michael

No. Understanding the description is understanding what sorts of things fall under it.

And when it comes to something like grief or red or happiness, I can't even break it down into some components parts (like I could do in a generalized way with horses). All I can do is say that they're the things that I name "grief", "red", or "happiness", and hopefully there are things that you name "grief", "red", and "happiness", and so you understand what I mean. — Michael

And yet there is no way in which 'grief' means 'thing I call 'grief'.' This is a gross misunderstanding.

And yet there is no way in which 'grief' means 'thing I call 'grief'.' This is a gross misunderstanding. — The Great Whatever

I'm not saying that "grief" means "thing I call 'grief'". I'm saying that grief is the thing I call 'grief'.

"Ian" doesn't mean "my father" but Ian is my father.

No. Understanding the description is understanding what sorts of things fall under it.

And what does it mean to understand what sort of things fall under "horse"? I'd say it's knowing what sort of phenomena is named "horse".

I'm not saying that grief means "thing I call 'grief'". I'm saying that grief is the thing I call 'grief'. — Michael

Not necessarily. Which is why when someone asks what grief is, and so wants a kind of characterization or definition, saying that grief is what you call 'grief' is completely uninformative. And notice that that is what you did to me when I asked.

And what does it mean to understand what sort of things fall under "horse"? — Michael

That you know, for example, that things like rabbits, which don't have manes, and have prominent hind legs and small arms, don't fall under it, whereas things with giant penises do.

Not necessarily. Which is why when someone asks what grief is, and so wants a kind of characterization or definition, saying that grief is what you call 'grief' is completely uninformative. And notice that that is what you did to me when I asked. — The Great Whatever

Yes, it's uninformative. But how can I provide an informative account? Your response "grief is a feeling" is also uninformative because plenty of feelings aren't of grief. Which feeling is grief? What's a feeling, even?

That you know, for example, that things like rabbits, which don't have manes, and have prominent hind legs and small arms, don't fall under it, whereas things with giant penises do.

And knowing what falls under "rabbit", "mane", "small arms", etc.? You can't avoid the fact that when push comes to shove knowing what these words means is knowing when to use them. At some point you tie them to some empirical situation in which such words are the appropriate response. Given this input (some sensory stimulation and the question "what is this?") the correct output, given the established rules, is "a rabbit". A computer can do this too.

Yes, it's uninformative. But how can I provide an informative account? Your response "grief is a feeling" is also uninformative because plenty of feelings aren't of grief. Which feeling is grief? — Michael

Just because it isn't maximally informative doesn't mean it's uninformative: there are also lots of things that are not feelings that this rules out.

Also, your offer is not just uninformative, but outright misleading: when someone asks you what something is, they're asking you to characterize it, viz. to give an account of what sorts of qualities make it that sort of thing. But your calling something a 'horse' in no way makes it a horse. So it is not an appropriate answer to the question.

And knowing what falls under "rabbit", "mane", "small arms", etc.? You can't avoid the fact that when push comes to shove knowing what these words means is knowing when to use them. At some point you tie them to some empirical situation in which such words are the appropriate response. — Michael

Yes, you tie them to empirical situations, but the relevant criteria are then what they look like, how they feel, and how they act, not circular appeals to linguistic behavior!

Just because it isn't maximally informative doesn't mean it's uninformative: there are also lots of things that are not feelings that this rules out. — The Great Whatever

And there are lots of things that are not named "grief", so in saying that grief is that thing we call "grief" I've ruled them out.

Also, your offer is not just uninformative, but outright misleading: when someone asks you what something is, they're asking you to characterize it, viz. to give an account of what sorts of qualities make it that sort of thing.

But as I've said before, in the case of grief there are no component qualities, and in the case of horses there are no necessary and sufficient conditions. The only way to understand grief or horses is to know in what sort of empirical situation you would say "I'm grieving" and "this is a horse". Of course, this doesn't help the person who doesn't know when they would say such things, but I assume you're not such a person.

And even if I were to provide some informative, generalized list of conditions that must be satisfied for a thing to be a horse, why are these the conditions that must be satisfied for a thing to be a horse rather than a rabbit? Well, because this is the sort of thing we call a horse.

Yes, you tie them to empirical situations, but the relevant criteria are then what they look like, how they feel, and how they act, not circular appeals to linguistic behavior!

I didn't engage in a circular appeal to linguistic behaviour. I referred to the empirical situation. But the only way I can refer to the empirical situation to which the word "grief" is tied is to use the word "grief".

But your calling something a 'horse' in no way makes it a horse. So it is not an appropriate answer to the question.

I didn't say that calling something a "horse" makes it a horse. Just as I wouldn't say that calling someone "Ian" makes them Ian. But Ian is the man I call "Ian" and a horse is the thing I call "horse".

And there are lots of things that are not named "grief", so in saying that grief is that thing we call "grief" I've ruled them out. — Michael

It rules out nothing, because to know what it rules out, you'd have to already know the answer to precisely the question you just asked.

But as I've said before, in the case of grief there are no component qualities, and in the case of horses there are no necessary and sufficient conditions. The only way to understand grief or horses is to know in what sort of empirical situation you would say "I'm grieving" and "this is a horse". — Michael

But this is horseshit. For one, you can understand them without speaking English, or without English even existing! For another, you can understand grief and horses say by feeling grief or by riding horses!

It rules out nothing, because to know what it rules out, you'd have to already know the answer to precisely the question you just asked. — The Great Whatever

Yes, and as I said, I assume you know the answer to the question "what is grief?". If you don't then nothing I can say can help you understand, so it's a futile question.

But this is horseshit. For one, you can understand them without speaking English, or without English even existing! For another, you an understand grief and horses say by feeling grief or by riding horses!

I meant to quote "grief" and "horses" in that sentence: The only way to understand "grief" or "horses" is to know in what sort of empirical situation you would say "I'm grieving" or "this is a horse".

Yes, and as I said, I assume you know the answer to the question "what is grief?". — Michael

But I don't know the answer because you are a philosopher and have idiosyncractic, non-intuitive ideas about what it means to understand things, for example, or what it means to feel grief. And you cannot explain those conceptions to me.

I meant to quote "grief" and "horses" in that sentence: The only way to understand "grief" or "horses" is to know in what sort of empirical situation you would say "I'm grieving" or "this is a horse". — Michael

And whats situations are those? Presumably, you must answer, situations involving grief and horses. Which are what...? Those in which people use the word 'grief' and 'horses?' No; that is not an appropriate answer.

But I don't know the answer because you are a philosopher and have idiosyncractic, non-intuitive ideas about what it means to understand things, for example, or what it means to feel grief. And you cannot explain those conceptions to me. — The Great Whatever

Can you? Explain grief to me. Explain understanding to me.

And whats situations are those? Presumably, you must answer, situations involving grief and horses. Which are what...? Those in which people use the word 'grief' and 'horses?' No; that is not an appropriate answer.

It's the only answer I can give. My answers can only ever be in English. You either understand the English words I use (which is to know when to use them) or you don't.

Can you? Explain grief to me. Explain understanding to me. — Michael

The best way to explain grief to you would be to kill one of your family members.

It's the only answer I can give. My answers can only ever be in English. You either understand the English words I use (which is to know when to use them) or you don't. — Michael

Except that's NEVER the answer anyone gives unless they're a philosopher. Instead, they do things like POINT TO HORSES.

The best way to explain grief to you would be to kill one of your family members. — The Great Whatever

Then why did you ask me what grief is? Presumably you wanted an answer, but don't want me to kill your family.

Except that's NEVER the answer anyone gives unless they're a philosopher. Instead, they do things like POINT TO HORSES.

So given two animals, which one do I point to? The horse? Which one is the horse? The one with a mane and a saddle? Why is the animal with a mane and a saddle the horse? Presumably because the animal with a mane and a saddle is the animal English speakers name "horse"?

Then why did you ask me what grief is? Presumably you wanted an answer, but don't want me to kill your family. — Michael

I asked what you thought it was, or were claiming to in guise of philosopher.

So given two animals, which one do I point to? The horse? Which one is the horse? — Michael

If you show me the two animals, I can show you by pointing! I certainly don't say 'the one I call 'horse,'' which would be stupid.

If you show me the two animals, I can show you by pointing! I certainly don't say 'the one I call 'horse,'' which would be stupid. — The Great Whatever

And if I were to then ask you why that one is the horse and not the other?

It depends on what the animal is. If it was a horse versus a rabbit, I'd mention the size, the shape of the legs, the mane, etc.

It depends on what the animal is. If it was a horse versus a rabbit, I'd mention the size, the shape of the legs, the mane, etc. — The Great Whatever

And then I'd ask you why this size, this shape of legs, and having a mane makes a thing a horse rather than a rabbit?

Second, simply because we do not relate to a computer as well as we do to other humans doesn't mean a computer doesn't feel. The recent movie Ex Machina explores this. To treat humans above computers simply because we don't have an emotional attachment to the latter is to have an anthropic bias. — darthbarracuda

One response to Searle's Chinese Room thought experiment is the system reply. Another one is the robot reply. Those two responses are quite different in character. That's because Searle's original contention was that however our brains "generate" understanding -- as they allegedly can, according to him -- can't be something that occurs in virtue of computation alone. All the system does still merely consists in manipulation of input symbol strings in accordance with syntactic rules. A robot does other things. It can actively gather data (not restricted to symbols provided to it) and behave in the world.

It seems to me that Searle ought to be able to consistently accept that the robot can manifest understanding while still denying that its "brain" understands anything. Searle's rejoinder to the system reply still validly applies to claims that the robot's brain (i.e. its central controlling system) understands. Searle ought to grant that, if the robot manifests understanding of Chinese (and of its surroundings) in its public behavior, then this understanding may be enabled by its brain functions but isn't constituted by those functions.

Of course Searle actually reject the robot reply. But that's because he is an internalist about intentional content. As I phrased it above, he believes that human brains "generate" understanding on their own quite appart from their embedding ("embeddedness"?) in animate bodies, and the embedding of our living bodies in our social and natural world. He defends a view of intrinsic intentionality according to which meaning and understanding (and reference) are produced by some irreducible and emergent property of biological brains -- irreducible, that is, to computations or syntactic manipulation of symbols. If we dispense with Searle's intentional internalism (i.e. the idea that mental states supervene narrowly on brain states, and depend only on them) then we ought to be happy to deny, with him, that computers understand anything. But we can also accept, unlike him, that sophisticated robots could conceivably understand, and yet deny, unlike him, that our own brains understand anything.

Do you actually have anything meaningful to say about the difference between humans and computers such that we have reasons to believe that the one understands grief and the other doesn't? — Michael

The difference between a computer and a human is flesh. Flesh and computer metal are both matter, but flesh has the biological characteristics that produce the experience of grief (or any other emotion). What is that experience? Flesh experiences pain, for instance, and weakness, excitation in the diaphragm, swelling (a lump in one's throat), fatigue, and a whole set of emotional states and feelings we call grief (or happiness, excitement, remorse, anger, etc.). We experience them because they happen in our flesh (they aren't symbolic) and we have the capacity to experience and interpret our fleshly state. If you burn your hand, you feel intense and enduring pain. You can see that the skin on your hand has been severely damaged by heat, and you can feel it. Lots of animals can match this experience because they have flesh, nerves, and the capacity to feel pain.

Beings or devices which lack the means to experience their own flesh (insects, worms, wood ticks, etc. or computers which have no flesh at all, can not have feelings or experiences. "Experience" belongs uniquely to flesh and the ability to apprehend. That which is without flesh cannot have experiences. What a human experiences in their flesh isn't symbolic, numerical, computational, or algorithmical. It's biological.

If you built a suffering computer, it would consist of many biological features, and have the capacity to experience emotions and pain. Then a computer could suffer. Suffering begins in a kind of substance which machines (metal, gears, wires, transistors, semiconductors, quantum effects et al) don't have.

Second, simply because we do not relate to a computer as well as we do to other humans doesn't mean a computer doesn't feel. The recent movie Ex Machina explores this. — darthbarracuda

Interesting that you mentioned that movie, since the machine in the movie manipulated the feelings of the protagonist in order to accomplish some other goal. The protagonist felt empathy for the machine and wanted to help it, not realizing that he was being fooled.

There is another movie along these lines where journalist with a background in robotics is invited to do a piece on a successful roboticist. Turns out this person has managed to create a very human-like android and he wants the journalist to examine it. She ends up falling in love with the roboticist, and a bit disturbed by the android, because it's awkward in conversation, and begins to exhibit signs of jealousy and sexual interest.

Turns out, the roboticist is actually the android, and the android is the roboticist. She's been fooled to see if the mimicry could be carried out convincingly, which it has, since she's fallen in love with a machine that's been programmed to mimic being a self-confident genius. The real person is a less convincing, awkward, but brilliant human.

So the presence of emotions is determined by public behaviour. Then if a robot behaves the same way a person does, e.g. saying "I'm sorry for your loss" when you tell them that your father has died, accompanied with the appropriate facial expressions and body language, then the robot has demonstrated his capacity for emotions. — Michael

No, it's not. A person can fake emotions, afterall. I might be convinced that you're sorry (or the robot), but maybe it's just mimicry. Maybe you don't actually feel sorry. Maybe you didn't like the person who died, or me, or just aren't close to the situation. Maybe you just aren't feeling empathetic. But you want to maintain a polite appearance.

And I would answer, because those are qualities typical of horses, and not rabbits.