

Empiricism,
Semantics, and Ontology
Rudolf
Carnap
(p.
1) Empiricists are in general rather suspicious with respect to any kind
of abstract entities like properties, classes, relations, numbers,
propositions, etc. They usually feel much more in sympathy with
nominalists than with realists (in the medieval sense). As far as
possible they try to avoid any reference to abstract entities and to
restrict themselves to what is sometimes called a nominalistic language,
i.e., one not containing such references. However, within certain
scientific contexts it seems hardly possible to avoid them.
(p.
2) It is the purpose of this article to clarify this controversial
issue. The nature and implications of the acceptance of a language
referring to abstract entities will first be discussed in general; it
will be shown that using such a language does not imply embracing a
Platonic ontology but is perfectly compatible with empiricism and
strictly scientific thinking. . . . It is hoped that the clarification
of the issue will be useful to those who would like to accept abstract
entities in their work in mathematics, physics, semantics, or any other
field; it may help them to overcome nominalistic scruples.
(p.
2) Are there properties classes, numbers, propositions? In order to
understand more clearly the nature of these and related problems, it is
above all necessary to recognize a fundamental distinction between two
kinds of questions concerning the existence or reality of entities. If
someone wishes to speak in his language about a new kind of entities, he
has to introduce a system of new ways of speaking, subject to new rules;
we shall call this procedure the construction of a linguistic framework
for the new entities in question. And now we must distinguish two kinds
of questions of existence: first, questions of the existence of certain
entities of the new kind within the framework; we call them internal
questions; and second, questions concerning the existence or reality of
the system of entities as a whole, called external questions. Internal
questions and possible answers to them are formulated with the help of
the new forms of expressions. The answers may be found either by purely
logical methods or by empirical methods, depending upon whether the
framework is a logical or a factual one. An external question is of a
problematic character which is in need of closer examination.
(p.
3) The world of things. Let us consider as an example the simplest kind
of entities dealt with in the everyday language: the spatio-temporally
ordered system of observable things and events. Once we have accepted
the thing language with its framework for things, we can raise and
answer internal questions, e.g., "Is there a white piece of paper
on my desk?" "Did King Arthur actually live?", "Are
unicorns and centaurs real or merely imaginary?" and the like.
These questions are to be answered by empirical investigations. Results
of observations are evaluated according to certain rules as confirming
or disconfirming evidence for possible answers. . . .
The
concept of reality occurring in these internal questions is an empirical
scientific non-metaphysical concept. To recognize something as a real
thing or event means to succeed in incorporating it into the system of
things at a particular space-time position so that it fits together with
the other things as real, according to the rules of the framework.
(p.
3) From these questions we must distinguish the external question of the
reality of the thing world itself. In contrast to the former questions,
this question is raised neither by the man in the street nor by
scientists, but only by philosophers. Realists give an affirmative
answer, subjective idealists a negative one, and the controversy goes on
for centuries without ever being solved. And it cannot be solved because
it is framed in a wrong way. To be real in the scientific sense means to
be an element of the system; hence this concept cannot be meaningfully
applied to the system itself. Those who raise the question of the
reality of the thing world itself have perhaps in mind not a theoretical
question as their formulation seems to suggest, but rather a practical
question, a matter of a practical decision concerning the structure of
our language. We have to make the choice whether or not to accept and
use the forms of expression in the framework in question.
In
the case of this particular example (the thing language), there is
usually no deliberate choice because we all have accepted the thing
language early in our lives as a matter of course. Nevertheless, we may
regard it as a matter of decision in this sense: we are free to choose
to continue using the thing language or not; in the latter case we could
restrict ourselves to a language of sense data and other
"phenomenal" entities, or construct an alternative to the
customary thing language with another structure, or, finally, we could
refrain from speaking. If someone decides to accept the thing language,
there is no objection against saying that he has accepted the world of
things. But this must not be interpreted as if it meant his acceptance
of a belief in the reality of the thing world; there is no such belief
or assertion or assumption, because it is not a theoretical question.
Numbers,
Propositions, material vs. formal modes of speech, properties, physical
space/time coordinates, etc.
(p.
9) The acceptance of a new kind of entities is represented in the
language by the introduction of a framework of new forms of expressions
to be used according to a new set of rules.
After
the new forms are introduced into the language, it is possible to
formulate with their help internal questions and possible answers to
them. A question of this kind may be either empirical or logical;
accordingly a true answer is either factually true or analytic.
From
the internal questions we must clearly distinguish external questions,
i.e., philosophical questions concerning the existence or reality of the
total system of the new entities. Many philosophers regard a question of
this kind as an ontological question which must be raised and answered
before the introduction of the new language forms. The latter
introduction, they believe, is legitimate only if it can be justified by
an ontological insight supplying an affirmative answer to the question
of reality. In contrast to this view, we take the position that the
introduction of the new ways of speaking does not need any theoretical
justification because it does not imply any assertion of reality. We may
still speak (and have done so) of the "acceptance of the new
entities" since this form of speech is customary; but one must keep
in mind that this phrase does not mean for us anything more than
acceptance of the new framework, i.e., of the new linguistic forms.
Above all, it must not be interpreted as referring to an assumption,
belief, or assertion of "the reality of the entities." There
is no such assertion. An alleged statement of the reality of the system
of entities is a pseudo-statement without cognitive content. To be sure,
we have to face at this point an important question; but it is a
practical, not a theoretical question; it is the question of whether or
not to accept the new linguistic forms. The acceptance cannot be judged
as being either true or false because it is not an assertion. It can
only be judged as being more or less expedient, fruitful, conducive to
the aim for which the language is intended. Judgments of this kind
supply the motivation for the decision of accepting or rejecting the
kind of entities.
(p.
17) The acceptance or rejection of abstract linguistic forms, just as
the acceptance or rejection of any other linguistic forms in any branch
of science, will finally be decided by their efficiency as instruments,
the ratio of the results achieved to the amount and complexity of the
efforts required. To decree dogmatic prohibitions of certain linguistic
forms instead of testing them by their success or failure in practical
use, is worse than futile; it is positively harmful because it may
obstruct scientific progress. The history of science shows examples of
such prohibitions based on prejudices deriving from religious,
mythological, metaphysical, or other irrational sources, which slowed up
the developments for shorter or longer periods of time. Let us learn
from the lessons of history. Let us grant to those who work in any
special field of investigation the freedom to use any form of expression
which seems useful to them; the work in the field will sooner or later
lead to the elimination of those forms which have no useful function.
Let us be cautious in making assertions and critical in examining them,
but tolerant in permitting linguistic forms.
Two
Dogmas of Empiricism
Willard
Van Orman Quine
(p.
1) Modern empiricism has been conditioned in large part by two
dogmas. One is a belief in some fundamental cleavage between truths
which are analytic, or grounded in meanings independently of matters of
fact and truths which are synthetic, or grounded in fact. The other
dogma is reductionism: the belief that each meaningful statement is
equivalent to some logical construct upon terms which refer to immediate
experience. Both dogmas, I shall argue, are ill founded. One effect of
abandoning them is, as we shall see, a blurring of the supposed boundary
between speculative metaphysics and natural science. Another effect is a
shift toward pragmatism.
1. BACKGROUND FOR ANALYTICITY
(p.
1) Kant's cleavage between analytic and synthetic truths was
foreshadowed in Hume's distinction between relations of ideas and
matters of fact, and in Leibniz's distinction between truths of reason
and truths of fact. Leibniz spoke of the truths of reason as true in all
possible worlds. Picturesqueness aside, this is to say that the truths
of reason are those which could not possibly be false. In the same vein
we hear analytic statements defined as statements whose denials are
self-contradictory. But this definition has small explanatory value; for
the notion of self-contradictoriness, in the quite broad sense needed
for this definition of analyticity, stands in exactly the same need of
clarification as does the notion of analyticity itself. The two notions
are the two sides of a single dubious coin.
Kant
conceived of an analytic statement as one that attributes to its subject
no more than is already conceptually contained in the subject. This
formulation has two shortcomings: it limits itself to statements of
subject-predicate form, and it appeals to a notion of containment which
is left at a metaphorical level. But Kant's intent, evident more from
the use he makes of the notion of analyticity than from his definition
of it, can be restated thus: a statement is analytic when it is true by
virtue of meanings and independently of fact. Pursuing this line, let us
examine the concept of meaning which is presupposed.
(p.
3) For the theory of meaning the most conspicuous question is as to the
nature of its objects: what sort of things are meanings? They are
evidently intended to be ideas, somehow -- mental ideas for some
semanticists, Platonic ideas for others. Objects of either sort are so
elusive, not to say debatable, that there seems little hope of erecting
a fruitful science about them. It is regarded as synonymous, or alike in
meaning, and when they should not. If a standard of synonymy should be
arrived at, we may reasonably expect that the appeal to meanings as
entities will not have played a very useful part in the enterprise. A
felt need for meant entities may derive from an earlier failure to
appreciate that meaning and reference are distinct. Once the theory of
meaning is sharply separated from the theory of reference, it is a short
step to recognizing as the business of the theory of meaning simply the
synonymy of linguistic forms and the analyticity of statements; meanings
themselves, as obscure intermediary entities, may well be abandoned.
So
far: Analyticity --> Truth by virtue of meaning --> Meanings
--> Synonomy
Two
kinds of analytic statements:
(p.
4) Those of the first class, which may be called logically true,
are typified by:
(1)
No unmarried man is married. (A logical truth is a statement which is
true and remains true under all reinterpretations of its components
other than the logical particles.)
But
there is also a second class of analytic statements, typified by:
(2)
No bachelor is married.
The characteristic of such a statement is that it can be turned into a
logical truth by putting synonyms for synonyms; thus (2) can be turned
into (1) by putting 'unmarried man' for its synonym 'bachelor.'
We
still lack a proper characterization of this second class of analytic
statements, and therewith of analyticity generally, inasmuch as we have
had in the above description to lean on a notion of 'synonymy' which is
no less in need of clarification than analyticity itself.
II.
DEFINITION
(p.
5) There are those who find it soothing to say that the analytic
statements of the second class reduce to those of the first class, the
logical truths, by definition; 'bachelor,' for example, is defined as
'unmarried man.' But how do we find that 'bachelor' is defined as
'unmarried man'? Who defined it thus, and when? Are we to appeal to the
nearest dictionary, and accept the lexicographer's formulation as law?
(p.
6) The word "definition" has come to have a dangerously
reassuring sound, due no doubt to its frequent occurrence in logical and
mathematical writings.
Different
kinds of definitions. Stipulative definitions are the exception, but for
the most part,
In
formal and informal work alike, thus, we find that definition -- except
in the extreme case of the explicitly conventional introduction of new
notation -- hinges on prior relationships of synonymy. Recognizing then
that the notation of definition does not hold the key to synonymy and
analyticity, let us look further into synonymy and say no more of
definition.
So
far: Analyticity --> Truth by virtue of meaning --> Meanings
--> Synonomy --> True by Definition
III.
INTERCHANGEABILITY
(p.
7) A natural suggestion, deserving close examination, is that the
synonymy of two linguistic forms consists simply in their
interchangeability in all contexts without change of truth value;
interchangeability, in Leibniz's phrase, salva veritate.Note that
synonyms so conceived need not even be free from vagueness, as long as
the vaguenesses match.
But
it is not quite true that the synonyms 'bachelor' and 'unmarried man'
are everywhere interchangeable salva veritate. Truths which become false
under substitution of 'unmarried man' for 'bachelor' are easily
constructed with help of 'bachelor of arts'.
But,
let’s suppose that we restrict our instances of interchangability to
entire words (rather than within words.)
(p.
8) The question remains whether interchangeability salva veritate (apart
from occurrences within words) is a strong enough condition for
synonymy, or whether, on the contrary, some non-synonymous expressions
might be thus interchangeable. Now let us be clear that we are not
concerned here with synonymy in the sense of complete identity in
psychological associations or poetic quality; indeed no two expressions
are synonymous in such a sense. We are concerned only with what may be
called cognitive synonymy. Just what this is cannot be said without
successfully finishing the present study; but we know something about it
from the need which arose for it in connection with analyticity in
Section 1. The sort of synonymy needed there was merely such that any
analytic statement could be turned into a logical truth by putting
synonyms for synonyms. Turning the tables and assuming analyticity,
indeed, we could explain cognitive synonymy of terms as follows (keeping
to the familiar example): to say that 'bachelor' and 'unmarried man' are
cognitively synonymous is to say no more nor less than that the
statement:
(3)
All and only bachelors are unmarried men is analytic.
What we need is an account of cognitive synonymy not presupposing
analyticity -- if we are to explain analyticity conversely with help of
cognitive synonymy as undertaken in Section 1. And indeed such an
independent account of cognitive synonymy is at present up for
consideration, namely, interchangeability salva veritate everywhere
except within words. The question before us, to resume the thread at
last, is whether such interchangeability is a sufficient condition for
cognitive synonymy. We can quickly assure ourselves that it is, by
examples of the following sort. The statement:
(4)
Necessarily all and only bachelors are bachelors
is
evidently true, even supposing 'necessarily' so narrowly construed as to
be truly applicable only to analytic statements. Then, if 'bachelor' and
'unmarried man' are interchangeable salva veritate, the result
(5)
Necessarily, all and only bachelors are unmarried men
of
putting 'unmarried man' for an occurrence of 'bachelor' in (4) must,
like (4), be true. But to say that (5) is true is to say that (3) is
analytic, and hence that 'bachelor' and 'unmarried man' are cognitively
synonymous.
Let
us see what there is about the above argument that gives it its air of
hocus-pocus. The condition of interchangeability salva veritate varies
in its force with variations in the richness of the language at hand.
The above argument supposes we are working with a language rich enough
to contain the adverb 'necessarily,' this adverb being so construed as
to yield truth when and only when applied to an analytic statement. But
can we condone a language which contains such an adverb? Does the adverb
really make sense? To suppose that it does is to suppose that we have
already made satisfactory sense of 'analytic.' Then what are we so hard
at work on right now?
Our
argument is not flatly circular, but something like it. It has the form,
figuratively speaking, of a closed curve in space.
Consequence
(p.
14)
It
is obvious that truth in general depends on both language and
extra-linguistic fact. The statement 'Brutus killed Caesar' would be
false if the world had been different in certain ways, but it would also
be false if the word 'killed' happened rather to have the sense of
'begat.' Hence the temptation to suppose in general that the truth of a
statement is somehow analyzable into a linguistic component and a
factual component. Given this supposition, it next seems reasonable that
in some statements the factual component should be null; and these are
the analytic statements. But, for all its a priori reasonableness, a
boundary between analytic and synthetic statement simply has not been
drawn. That there is such a distinction to be drawn at all is an
unempirical dogma of empiricists, a metaphysical article of faith.
So
far: Analyticity à Truth by virtue of meaning à Meanings à Synonomy
à True by Definition à Interchangability
V.
THE VERIFICATION THEORY AND REDUCTIONISM
In the course of these somber reflections we have taken a dim view first
of the notion of meaning, then of the notion of cognitive synonymy: and
finally of the notion of analyticity. But what, it may be asked, of the
verification theory of meaning?
The
verification theory of meaning, which has been conspicuous in the
literature from Peirce onward, is that the meaning of a statement is the
method of empirically confirming or infirming it. An analytic statement
is that limiting case which is confirmed no matter what. . . Then
what the verification theory says is that statements are synonymous if
and only if they are alike in point of method of empirical confirmation
or infirmation. . . . For a statement may be described as analytic
simply when it is synonymous with a logically true statement. . . .
(p.
15) So, if the verification theory can be accepted as an adequate
account of statement synonymy, the notion of analyticity is saved after
all. However, let us reflect. Statement synonymy is said to be likeness
of method of empirical confirmation or infirmation. Just what are these
methods which are to be compared for likeness? What, in other words, is
the nature of the relationship between a statement and the experiences
which contribute to or detract from its confirmation?
The
most naive view of the relationship is that it is one of direct report.
This is radical reductionism. Every meaningful statement is held to be
translatable into a statement (true or false) about immediate
experience. Radical reductionism, in one form or another, well antedates
the verification theory of meaning explicitly so called. Thus Locke and
Hume held that every idea must either originate directly in sense
experience or else be compounded of ideas thus originating; and taking a
hint from Tooke, we might rephrase this doctrine in
semantical jargon by saying that a term, to be significant at all, must
be either a name of a sense datum or a compound of such names or an
abbreviation of such a compound. So stated, the doctrine remains
ambiguous as between sense data as sensory events and sense data as
sensory qualities; and it remains vague as to the admissible ways of
compounding. Moreover, the doctrine is unnecessarily and intolerably
restrictive in the term-by-term critique which it imposes. More
reasonably, and without yet exceeding the limits of what I have called
radical reductionism, we may take full statements as our significant
units -- thus demanding that our statements as wholes be translatable
into sense-datum language, but not that they be translatable term by
term.
This
emendation would unquestionably have been welcome to Locke and Hume and
Tooke, but historically it had to await two intermediate developments.
One of these developments was the increasing emphasis on verification or
confirmation, which came with the explicitly so-called verification
theory of meaning. The objects of verification or confirmation being
statements, this emphasis gave the statement an ascendancy over the word
or term as unit of significant discourse. The other development,
consequent upon the first, was Russell's discovery of the concept of
incomplete symbols defined in use.
Emandations
via the Aufbau, which we need not worry about.
But
the dogma of reductionism has, in a subtler and more tenuous form,
continued to influence the thought of empiricists. The notion lingers
that to each statement, or each synthetic statement, there is associated
a unique range of possible sensory events such that the occurrence of
any of them would add to the likelihood of truth of the statement, and
that there is associated also another unique range of possible sensory
events whose occurrence would detract from that likelihood. This notion
is of course implicit in the verification theory of meaning.
(p.
17) The dogma of reductionism survives in the supposition that each
statement, taken in isolation from its fellows, can admit of
confirmation or infirmation at all. My countersuggestion, issuing
essentially from Carnap's doctrine of the physical world in the Aufbau,
is that our statements about the external world face the tribunal of
sense experience not individually but only as a corporate body.
The
dogma of reductionism, even in its attenuated form, is intimately
connected with the other dogma: that there is a cleavage between the
analytic and the synthetic. We have found ourselves led, indeed, from
the latter problem to the former through the verification theory of
meaning. More directly, the one dogma clearly supports the other in this
way: as long as it is taken to be significant in general to speak of the
confirmation and infirmation of a statement, it seems significant to
speak also of a limiting kind of statement which is vacuously confirmed,
ipso facto, come what may; and such a statement is analytic.
The
two dogmas are, indeed, at root identical. We lately reflected that in
general the truth of statements does obviously depend both upon
extra-linguistic fact; and we noted that this obvious circumstance
carries in its train, not logically but all too naturally, a feeling
that the truth of a statement is somehow analyzable into a linguistic
component and a factual component. The factual component must, if we are
empiricists, boil down to a range of confirmatory experiences. In the
extreme case where the linguistic component is all that matters, a true
statement is analytic. But I hope we are now impressed with how
stubbornly the distinction between analytic and synthetic has resisted
any straightforward drawing. I am impressed also, apart from
prefabricated examples of black and white balls in an urn, with how
baffling the problem has always been of arriving at any explicit theory
of the empirical confirmation of a synthetic statement. My present
suggestion is that it is nonsense, and the root of much nonsense, to
speak of a linguistic component and a factual component in the truth of
any individual statement. Taken collectively, science has its double
dependence upon language and experience; but this duality is not
significantly traceable into the statements of science taken one by one.
(p.
18) But what I am now urging is that even in taking the statement as
unit we have drawn our grid too finely. The unit of empirical
significance is the whole of science.
VI.
EMPIRICISM WITHOUT THE DOGMAS
The
totality of our so-called knowledge or beliefs, from the most casual
matters of geography and history to the profoundest laws of atomic
physics or even of pure mathematics and logic, is a man-made fabric
which impinges on experience only along the edges. Or, to change the
figure, total science is like a field of force whose boundary conditions
are experience. A conflict with experience at the periphery occasions
readjustments in the interior of the field. Truth values have to be
redistributed over some of our statements. Re-evaluation of some
statements entails re-evaluation of others, because of their logical
interconnections -- the logical laws being in turn simply certain
further statements of the system, certain further elements of the field.
Having re-evaluated one statement we must re-evaluate some others,
whether they be statements logically connected with the first or whether
they be the statements of logical connections themselves. But the total
field is so undetermined by its boundary conditions, experience, that
there is much latitude of choice as to what statements to re-evaluate in
the light of any single contrary experience. No particular experiences
are linked with any particular statements in the interior of the field,
except indirectly through considerations of equilibrium affecting the
field as a whole.
If
this view is right, it is misleading to speak of the empirical content
of an individual statement -- especially if it be a statement at all
remote from the experiential periphery of the field. Furthermore it
becomes folly to seek a boundary between synthetic statements, which
hold contingently on experience, and analytic statements which hold come
what may. Any statement can be held true come what may, if we make
drastic enough adjustments elsewhere in the system. Even a statement
very close to the periphery can be held true in the face of recalcitrant
experience by pleading hallucination or by amending certain statements
of the kind called logical laws. Conversely, by the same token, no
statement is immune to revision. Revision even of the logical law of the
excluded middle has been proposed as a means of simplifying quantum
mechanics; and what difference is there in principle between such a
shift and the shift whereby Kepler superseded Ptolemy, or Einstein
Newton, or Darwin Aristotle?
(p.
19) As an empiricist I continue to think of the conceptual scheme of
science as a tool, ultimately, for predicting future experience in the
light of past experience. Physical objects are conceptually imported
into the situation as convenient intermediaries -- not by definition in
terms of experience, but simply as irreducible posits comparable,
epistemologically, to the gods of Homer. Let me interject that for my
part I do, qua lay physicist, believe in physical objects and not in
Homer's gods; and I consider it a scientific error to believe otherwise.
But in point of epistemological footing the physical objects and the
gods differ only in degree and not in kind. Both sorts of entities enter
our conception only as cultural posits. The myth of physical objects is
epistemologically superior to most in that it has proved more
efficacious than other myths as a device for working a manageable
structure into the flux of experience.
(p.
20) Positing does not stop with macroscopic physical objects. Objects at
the atomic level and beyond are posited to make the laws of macroscopic
objects, and ultimately the laws of experience, simpler and more
manageable; and we need not expect or demand full definition of atomic
and subatomic entities in terms of macroscopic ones, any more than
definition of macroscopic things in terms of sense data. Science is a
continuation of common sense, and it continues the common-sense
expedient of swelling ontology to simplify theory.
(p.
21) The issue over there being classes seems more a question of
convenient conceptual scheme; the issue over there being centaurs, or
brick houses on
Elm Street
, seems more a question of fact. But I have been urging that this
difference is only one of degree, and that it turns upon our vaguely
pragmatic inclination to adjust one strand of the fabric of science
rather than another in accommodating some particular recalcitrant
experience. Conservatism figures in such choices, and so does the quest
for simplicity.
(p.
22) Carnap, Lewis, and others take a pragmatic stand on the
question of choosing between language forms, scientific frameworks; but
their pragmatism leaves off at the imagined boundary between the
analytic and the synthetic. In repudiating such a boundary I espouse a
more thorough pragmatism. Each man is given a scientific heritage plus a
continuing barrage of sensory stimulation; and the considerations which
guide him in warping his scientific heritage to fit his continuing
sensory promptings are, where rational, pragmatic.