That's then not speech act theory or meaning as use. It's claiming that the meaning of a word is the psychological state it somehow embodies. — Isaac
I'm not claiming that the meaning of
any particular word just is identical to a psychological state, but only that some of the many different things you can do with language generally, with your combinations of words, is to convey to someone else an understanding of what you think or feel about something, as well as try to get them to think or feel likewise, or try to get them to convey to you what they think or feel about something, or just convey your lack of commitment to (and openness to suggestions about) any particular thoughts or feelings about that.
And in any of those cases, the thoughts of feelings being imperfectly bandied about by proxy of our various grunts and scribbles might be thoughts or feelings either regarding what is the case, i.e. thoughts or feelings that some picture we've tried to paint with our words is to be used as a representation of the world; or they may be thoughts of feelings that some such picture is to be used as a blueprint from which to remake the world.
That last distinction is the "direction of fit" distinction that my entire moral semantics hinges on, and it comes directly from speech act theory. Austin was the first to use the term as such, Searle did most of the development of it since, and he claims that Anscombe gave perhaps the best illustration of it, in this passage:
Let us consider a man going round a town with a shopping list in his hand. Now it is clear that the relation of this list to the things he actually buys is one and the same whether his wife gave him the list or it is his own list; and that there is a different relation where a list is made by a detective following him about. If he made the list itself, it was an expression of intention; if his wife gave it him, it has the role of an order. What then is the identical relation to what happens, in the order and the intention, which is not shared by the record? It is precisely this: if the list and the things that the man actually buys do not agree, and if this and this alone constitutes a mistake, then the mistake is not in the list but in the man's performance (if his wife were to say: “Look, it says butter and you have bought margarine”, he would hardly reply: “What a mistake! we must put that right” and alter the word on the list to “margarine”); whereas if the detective's record and what the man actually buys do not agree, then the mistake is in the record — Anscombe
How? As above. If I wanted to do this, how would I ever learn what words to pick to achieve the task? — Isaac
Rather than me speculating about how people learn the meanings of words, I'd like to ask you what exactly you think is so strange about what I'm suggesting, because it seems to me that you think I'm saying something very weird while I'm trying to say something very mundane. We have words that refer to things like rocks and trees and tables and chairs and cars and houses, and actions like walking and talking and fighting. I imagine you have no problem with those kinds of words being learnable somehow or another, right? We also have words that refer to mental things, emotions like joy, anger, sorrow, calm, and states like certainty, doubt, and yes belief, and intention. You don't think that it's impossible to learn what those words mean because they refer to psychological things, do you? (I imagine not).
If you have no problem with it being possible to learn those kinds of words, then consider this hypothetical conversation. Alice says to Bob, "people killing each other". Those words provoke Bob to imagine some groups of men shooting at each other, the first example of people killing each other that comes to his mind; but that's not a complete sentence Alice said, so Bob isn't sure of Alice's meaning, and he asks her "What about people killing each other?"
Alice says "It happens." Bob understands now: Alice is asserting that people
do kill each other. (We could analyze this as that Alice is showing that she thinks the picture of people killing each other painted by the words "people killing each other" is fit for use as a representation of the world, and that she is suggesting that Bob think likewise.) Bob agrees, so he says "Oh yes, that's true. People kill each other."
Then Alice says "But that shouldn't happen." Those words, plus the pre-established image of people killing each other they're referring to, prompt Bob to understand that Alice is also asserting that people
ought not kill each other. (We could analyze this as that Alice is showing that she thinks the picture of people killing each other painted by the words "people killing each other" is unfit for use as a blueprint for how to remake the world, and that she suggesting that Bob think likewise.) Bob agrees with that too, so he says "Yeah, it's bad. People shouldn't kill each other."
The potential state of affairs gestured to with the words is the same in all the cases in that conversation: some people somehow killing some other people. What is it about the meaning of the whole series of words that you think changes when the word "killing" gets changed to "do kill" or to "ought not kill"? I think it's the attitude toward that potential state of affairs that is being conveyed, the use that the picture painted by the words is being put to.
All of this is completely separate from whether or not Bob would be right to adopt either of the attitudes that Alice is suggesting he adopt toward that state of affairs. I think the criteria Bob should rationally consider would be different, but in important ways similar, for each of of those two different attitudes toward that state of affairs that Alice is suggesting he adopt.
I agree, but that's not what you said. Desiring that John do X is not the same as intending that John do X. If I desire that John do X I might intend to persuade him, show him, or force him, but I can't simply intend that he does. Intent is a plan of action, it can only refer to that which is in my control. — Isaac
As I said, I think this is just a difference in our understanding of language. To my ear it would not sound strange at all if, say, the writer of a movie said on a commentary track "I intended that this scene would be the exact center point of the film, but an executive producer insisted on cutting a bunch from the end and re-inserting some of it as foreshadowing at the beginning, so now this scene that should have been the midpoint is almost at the end." He intended
that something be the case, but it was not completely within his control to make it the case, so it ended up not being the case. He himself did all the things he intended
to do, but the state of affairs he was aiming for by those actions nevertheless was not realized because of factors outside his control.
(Note also the use of "should" there, to indicate again what his intention, the state of affairs he was aiming to bring about, was. I didn't put that in on purpose or to make a point, that's just the first and most natural way of phrasing the sentence that came to mind.)
If this use of "intent" sounds weird to you, what can I say, but FWIW the first entry of
the first dictionary that pops up when I just google 'intend' says "to have in mind as a purpose or goal", and in any case that's the sense that I mean, so please understand the words I write in that sense and not another. (Also please keep in mind my own technical differentiation between "intent" and "desire" in my philosophical system that we're discussing. If you have suggestions for better words to encapsulate the difference between them, my ears are open.)
But earlier you expressly denied that such moral language only gave the listener fact for them to do with as they will."what it is that you believe" is just a fact about you, as is your trustworthiness. So all we have is facts about the world. — Isaac
But if one of those facts about the world is about someone holding a prescriptive attitude toward some state of affairs, and the other fact is about the odds of that person's attitudes towards states of affairs being the correct ones to hold, then what you end up with is the adoption of a prescriptive attitude toward a state of affairs, not merely a descriptive attitude toward the state of affairs of another person's mind. The fact of the other person having a particular state of mind is not the thing they are trying to convince you of by their speech, that's just the packaging. The content of that state of mind they have is the thing they're trying to convince you of, and if you don't understand what it is to adopt that state of mind, you can't unpackage the contents of the fact it's delivered in: if you don't know what it is to think "this ought to be the case", you only know what it is to think that someone thinks "this ought to be the case" without having any idea what that means, then it will be impossible for them to communicate that to you.
You, Isaac, talk here like you are not capable of understanding "what's in the box", so to speak, or even that there is anything in the box, but I can't imagine that that could actually be the case and yet you somehow manage to function well enough in society to live the life it sounds like you've lived. Instead, I can only speculate that you're willfully refusing for ideological reasons to talk about what's in the box, and insisting on treating the box like it is the content rather than just the packaging.
I don't see how you can infer from "it is not the case that humans tend to do this" to "it is not the case that humans should try to do this". — Pfhorrest
Relatively straightforward answer to this...ever come across the well-quoted definition of madness? — Isaac
Are you suggesting that it's madness to try to get you to ever explain this inexplicable jump of the is-ought gap? Because I'm starting to agree.
See below about the difference in what we expect. we expect a shared world as an external source of perceptions, we don't expect a shared external source of hedonic satisfaction. It's a simple as that. We're born that way (or at least as far back as we can test - six month old so far). — Isaac
Yes, we learn to expect it, but it's not hard-wired like the expectation of an external source of sensory inputs seems to be. The expectation can take as much a three or four years to develop. — Isaac
All you're saying here is that people are more naturally inclined to do similarly to what I advise regarding empirical realism than regarding hedonistic altruism; but, as you say, we can learn what we're not born with. That's not contrary to any of my claims, and is actually a great explanation for why socio-philosophical development in the latter case has lagged so far behind what's happened in the former case: there's a lot more ground that we're not pre-programmed for that has to be covered to get to a working methodology going in widespread practice.
Speaking of "programming", what I'm advocating is not meant to be a description of how people are inclined to function, but rather it's meant to be something we would teach people to do, or program AIs to do. I think AI programming is a perfect context for understanding what the use of philosophy in general is. Philosophy is about coming up with ideal or optimal methods of pursuing answers to questions of various kinds, and all the conceptual framework necessitates by such frameworks, and thinking of it like an AI programming exercise really brings that to the forefront.
Not so with negative hedonic responses. We've an incentive to avoid them, but we've two methods available to us. Change the event, or change our response. How do we choose which? — Isaac
As I've already said, I don't advocate for either one or the other. Either would suffice, and which is better in a given case would depend on other factors. (Well, mostly one: efficiency. Which is the parallel to the parsimony I never got a chance to talk about in my epistemology). It's all about the relationship between them, both in the descriptive and the prescriptive cases.
The descriptive case is all about figuring out what kinds of observations would be made by what kinds of observers in what kinds of contexts. If you change the system under observation without changing the observer, you'll get a different observation, and your model should say so; and also if you change the observer without changing the system under observation, you'll get a different observation, and your model should say so. The model should say only that it's true that a particular kind of observer in a particular context will make a particular observation; observer-independent models cannot be objective because the observations depend on the observer as much as the system under observation, and trying to be "observer-independent" in this way (independent of their observations, rather than just their perceptions or beliefs) ends up just assuming things about the observer. You can only approach objectivity by trying to account for what
all observers would observe in all contexts.
(This is simultaneously
being said by others in the intersubjectivity thread).
Likewise, the prescriptive case is all about figuring out what kinds of appetites would be (dis)satisfied for what kinds of subjects in what kinds of contexts. If you change the event being experienced without changing the subject, you'll get a different experience, and your model should say so; and also if you change the subject without changing the event, you'll get a different experience, and your model should say so. The model should say only that it's good that a particular kind of subject in a particular context has a particular experience; subject-independent models cannot be objective because the experiences depend on the subject as much as the event being experienced, and trying to be "subject-independent" in this way (independent of their experiences, rather than just their desires or intentions) ends up just assuming things about the subject. You can only approach objectivity by trying to account for what
all subjects would experience in all contexts.
What would a 'wrong' desire be other than a desire not to have that desire? — Isaac
It seems like you've forgotten already the technical definitions of "appetite", "desire", and "intention" that I use in my philosophy; as well as the parallel set of "sensation", "perception", and "belief". Ignore for the moment appetites and sensations, it's the second and third of each set we're focused on here.
In my scheme, an "intention" and a "belief" are each reflexive or second-order forms of "desires" and "perceptions", respectively. Each of them requires that you have awareness of your first-order states of mind, that you can perceive that you are perceiving and desiring certain things; and then also that you pass judgement on those first-order states of mind, that you desire to perceive and desire in that way or else differently.
So yes, on my account an intention, i.e. a "moral belief", is a second-order a desire, it's a desire that you desire to desire. This is more or less the same as Harry Frankfurt's conception of "will": your will is what you want to want. And yes, you could in turn have desires about your desires about your desires, ad infinitum, the more you thought over your decision-making process. Your intention, or will in Frankfurt's terms, is whatever the top level of that is: whatever you've concluded, after however much thought you've given it, that you want to want to want... etc.
Why to want things, and thus what to want to want, i.e. what to intend, i.e. what "moral beliefs" to hold, is a separate question from just
what it is to have a "moral belief" / intention. Just like what to believe generally, descriptively, is a separate question from
what it is to have a belief. (My answer in both cases, to the "what to think" questions, which we've been over and over already, could be summarized as "heed your experiences... and everyone else's too".)
(Again, think back like you are raising a child, or programming an AI. How do you want the child or AI to go about making these decisions, either about what is real, or about what is moral? How, generally, do you
intend people to make those kinds of decisions -- regardless of how you
believe that they in fact do make them? Now look at yourself in the third person, like you are parenting yourself, and ask:
are you making those kinds of decisions in the way you
want people in general to make them? Would you try to get someone else, who makes decisions the way that you do, to change the way they do that? If so, try to get yourself to change the way you do that, like you would anyone else.)
Or else, on second consideration, it may be something like my take on the assignment of ownership, part of the deontological level of my ethics (which we haven't gotten to yet), which is parallel to my take on the assignment of meaning to words in my epistemology. A part of that deontology deals with what we might loosely call "analytic goods" (not that I actually call them that -- I say "procedural duties", but that's not important right now), which hinge entirely on the assignment of ownership, in the same way that analytic truths hinge entirely on the assigned meaning of words. — Pfhorrest
No. But an interesting read nonetheless. I won't comment on it her as it's off-topic.
If you and the grocer agree to trade some potatoes for some money, you have agreed that upon delivery of the potatoes the money becomes his property, so when he delivers the potatoes, the money now just is his property, "analytically" (by analogy), and you have no claims over it anymore. — Pfhorrest
So this is true, but...
If that's what Anscombe means — Pfhorrest
Not only that, but that the word 'ought' picks out this naturally/culturally occurring state. what we mean by 'ought' is that state. Thus the question often asked of naturalist ethical approaches "yes, but did we 'ought' to behave that way, just because it's social convention that we do" is dissolved. The question makes no sense because it's using the word 'ought' whilst at the same time claiming to not know what the word means. — Isaac
This part of the conversation is getting a bit ahead of the rest of it, but I want to clarify that my account that I gave there is very much not just about any arbitrary social convention, but rather about methodological justification in the pursuit of hedonic goods, a part of which involves mutual agreement to divide up who gets to make decisions about what. (The link between those was the part you didn't comment on). Here you seem to be saying that Anscombe means the same thing that I mean, but then describing her meaning in a way contrary to what I meant.
In any case, regardless of what Anscombe meant, I see here a parallel with different senses of "true". Is it true that all bachelors are unmarried? Is there anything in actual reality that could confirm or deny that? It is true, but it's a kind of "truth" that's completely detached from empirical reality. Yet we can nevertheless be hardcore empiricists, and still acknowledge that it's true -- somehow in a way seemingly unconnected to empirical reality but also not at all contrary to empiricism -- that all bachelors are unmarried. In a way that still doesn't license people to get together and arbitrarily agree that any old thing is true and thereby "make it true".
Likewise, on my account of rights and their relationship to property, and the relationship of all of that to hedonistic altruism, the shopper "ought" to pay the grocer the agreed-upon amount, in a way that's completely detached from hedonism, yet we can nevertheless be hardcore hedonists and still acknowledge that he ought to -- somehow in a way seemingly unconnected to hedonistic morality but also not at all contrary to hedonism -- pay the grocer. In a way that still doesn't license people to get together and arbitrarily agree that any old thing is good and thereby "make it good".