These nine essays are largely concerned with the theory of meaning and references—semantics. At the same time adjacent portions of philosophy and logic are discussed. To the existence of what objects may a given scientific theory be said to be committed? And what considerations may suitably guide us in accepting or revising such ontological commitments? These are among the questions dealt with in this book, particular attention being devoted to the role of abstract entities in mathematics. There is speculation on the mechanism whereby objects of one sort or another come to be posited a process in which the notion of identity plays an important part.
"This volume of essays has a unity and bears throughout the imprint of Quine's powerful and original mind. It is written with the felicity in the choice of words which makes everything that Quine writes a pleasure to read, and which ranks him among the best contemporary writers on abstract subjects." (Cambridge Review)
"Professor Quine's challenging and original views are here for the first time presented as a unity. The chief merit of the book is the heart-searching from which it arose and to which it will give rise. In vigour, conciseness, and clarity, it is characteristic of its author." (Oxford Magazine)
"Willard Van Orman Quine (June 25, 1908 Akron, Ohio – December 25, 2000) (known to intimates as "Van"), was an American analytic philosopher and logician. From 1930 until his death 70 years later, Quine was affiliated in some way with Harvard University, first as a student, then as a professor of philosophy and a teacher of mathematics, and finally as an emeritus elder statesman who published or revised seven books in retirement. He filled the Edgar Pierce Chair of Philosophy at Harvard, 1956-78. Quine falls squarely into the analytic philosophy tradition while also being the main proponent of the view that philosophy is not conceptual analysis. His major writings include "Two Dogmas of Empiricism", which attacked the distinction between analytic and synthetic propositions and advocated a form of semantic holism, and Word and Object which further developed these positions and introduced the notorious indeterminacy of translation thesis." - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Willard_...
“What’s that?” my brother said after reading the title of this book. "The most pretentious book ever written?”
This book is difficult for me to review, mainly because there were so many parts of it that I did not fully understand. Quine is not writing for the general reader; he is writing for professional philosophers—a category that excludes people such as myself, who have not taken a single course in formal logic. Nevertheless, there are some parts of this book—particularly the first two essays, “On What There Is” and “Two Dogmas of Empiricism”—which can be understood by the persistent amateur.
I will try to explain what I think I know about Quine, subject to the very important caveat that these are the general impressions of somebody who is not an expert. I might easily be wrong.
Quine is an American, and so is very literal; he likes things he can touch, or at least can clearly define. This leads him to a kind of ontological puritanism: he wishes to admit as few types of entities into existence as possible. The most obvious token of this is his materialism. Quine thinks the world is fundamentally matter; thus, he rejects the existence of spirits, and, more surprisingly, of minds—at least minds as distinctly different metaphysical objects. (He is fine with keeping mentalistic terminology, so long as it is understood as paraphrases of behavioral phenomena.) This also prompts Quine to reject other, more banal, sorts of things like meanings and properties. In fact, Quine only acknowledges the existence of two sorts of things: physical objects, and sets (or classes). If I am not mistaken, Quine’s belief in something so abstract as a logical set is motivated by his famous indispensability argument—that we ought to believe in the types of things our theories of the world need.
Quine’s materialism is tied to two other -isms: holism and naturalism. By naturalism, I mean that Quine thinks that our knowledge comes from observation, from experience, from science; furthermore, that this is the only type of knowledge we have available. Quine would never attempt something like Descartes did, seeking to ground all of the contingent assertions of science with an unquestionable first principle (in Descartes’ case, this being that he thinks, and therefore is). Quine is even uncomfortable with doctrines such as Wittgenstein’s, which hold philosophy to be a sort of second-level activity, a discipline which tackles questions of a fundamentally different sort than those investigated by scientists. For Quine, there are no fundamentally different sorts of questions: all questions are questions about the natural world, and thus on identical epistemological and ontological footing. The only difference between philosophy and science, for Quine, is that philosophers ask more general questions.
Quine’s holism is, perhaps, the most interesting aspect of his views. The logical positivists thought that individual statements could be accepted or rejected based on our experiences. In other words, we make a statement about the physical world, and then go about trying to verify it with some experience. But Quine points out that this is far too simple an account. Our statements do not exist in isolation, but are tied to an entire web of beliefs—some very abstract and remote from any experience.
Keep this in your mind’s eye: a huge, floating hunk of miscellaneous trash, adrift in the ocean. Now, only some of this trash directly touches the ocean; these are the parts of our knowledge that directly ‘touch’ the experiential world. A great part of this trash, however, lies in the center of the mass, far away from the water; and this is analogous to our most abstract beliefs. If this gigantic trash island were to hit something—let us say, a big boat—two things could happen. The boat could be destroyed, and its wreckage simply added onto the floating trash island; or, the boat could tear its way through the trash island, changing its shape dramatically. These are, roughly, the two things that can happen when we face a novel experience: we can somehow assimilate it into our old beliefs, or we can reconfigure our whole web of beliefs to accommodate this new information.
I will drop the metaphor. What Quine is saying is that there are no beliefs of ours that cannot be revised—nothing is sacred. We have even considered revising our principles of logic, previously so unquestionable, in the face of quantum weirdness. There are also no experiences that could not, in principle, be explained away: we could cite hallucinations or mental illness or human error as the reason behind the anomalous experience.
Keeping Quine’s naturalism and holism in mind, it is pretty clear why he rejects the main tenets of logical positivism. First, Quine points out the vagueness of what philosophers mean when they talk about ‘analytic statements’. The classic case of an analytic statement is “all bachelors are unmarried,” which is true by definition: since a bachelor is defined as an unmarried man, it could not be otherwise that bachelors are unmarried. But note that this relies on the idea that ‘bachelor’ has the same ‘meaning’ as the phrase ‘unmarried man’. But what is a ‘meaning’? It sounds like a mental phenomenon; and because Quine does not hold minds to exist, he is very skeptical about ‘meanings’. So in what sense do ‘meanings’ exist? Can they be paraphrased into behavioral terminology? Quine does not exactly rule it out, but is rather dubious.
Quine’s holism is also at odds with the project of logical positivism. For, as already noted, logical positivists regard the meaning of a statement to be its verification; but Quine believes—and I think quite rightly—that statements do not exist in isolation, but rely on a whole background web of beliefs and doctrines. Here is a concrete example. Let us say we wanted to go out and verify the statement ‘flying saucers are real.’ We wander around with our camera, and then suddenly see a shiny disk floating through the air. We snap some photos, and pronounce our statement 'verified'. But will people believe us? Scientists look at the object, and say that it is a weather balloon; psychologists examine us, and say that we are demented. The statement has thus not been verified at all by our experience; and even if we had better evidence of flying saucers than a few photographs, it is at least conceivable that we could go on finding alternative explanations—secret government aircraft, some mad scientist's invention, an elaborate prank, etc.
I will stop trying to summarize his arguments here, because I feel like I am already in over my head. I will say, however, that Quine’s argument against logical positivism seems to rely on his own presumptions about knowledge and the world—which may, after all, be quite reasonable, but this still does not make for a conclusive argument. In short, Quine may be arguing against the dogmas of logical empiricism with dogmas of his own. I often had this experience while reading Quine: at first I would disagree; but then, after formulating my disagreement, I would realize I was only begging the question, and that we were starting with very different assumptions.
Quine is preoccupied with this idea of ontological commitment. He is exercised by his felt necessity of postulating the existence of things used in discourse, like meanings, mathematical objects and so forth. These are, no doubt, important questions; yet I do not find them terribly interesting to think about. In my experience, wondering about whether something ‘really exists’ often leads up dark intellectual alleys. When it comes to things like UFOs, the question is doubtless a vital one to ask; but when it comes to things like ‘sets’ and ‘meanings’, it does not excite me: for what would be the difference if sets ‘really existed’ or if they were just tools used in discourse with no existence outside of names and thought? I will leave these desert landscapes of logic for ones more verdant.
To conclude, Quine was obviously a brilliant man; he was, in fact, so brilliant, that I cannot understand how brilliant he was.
A brilliant work from the 20th century-philosophy: on universals, dogmas, useful myths and efficacy in communication.
The philosophical issues treated in this book are very important indeed. In fact, they explain nothing less than what really exists in our universe and how mankind can deal with this universe through pragmatism (language).
Essay 1: On What There Is. Universals of bound variables (e.g., redness) are useful myths. They don't exist really (they are not there). Physical conceptual schemes simplify our accounts of experience, because myriad scattered sense events come to be associated with simple so-called objects.
Essay 2: Two Dogmas of Empiricism There is no fundamental cleavage between analytic (grounded on meanings independent of fact) and synthetic (grounded in fact) truths. The truth of a statement cannot be split into a linguistic and a factual component. Reductionism, the theory that each meaningful statement is equivalent to some logical construct upon terms which refer to immediate experience, is a dogma. The unit of empirical significance is the whole of science. Reductionism is only pragmatic.
Essay 3: The Problem of Meaning in Linguistics. This text treats the problem of significant sequences (phonemes and morphemes) in speech and the notion of synonymy.
Essay 4: Identity, Ostension and Hypostasis. Concepts in an unconceptualized reality are not more than language. Their purpose is pragmatic. The ultimate duty of language, science and philosophy is efficacy in communication and prediction.
Essay 5: New Foundations. In this text, Quine reduces the logical foundations of Russell's Principia Mathematica to a three-fold logic of propositions, classes and relations: membership (x is a member of y), alternative denial (a statement is false if and only if both constituent statements are true) and universal quantification (a prefix of a variable).
Essay 6: Reification of Universals Quantification is a criterion of ontological commitment: an entity (a value) is presupposed by a theory if and only if it is needed among the values of the bound variables in order to make the statements affirmed in the true theory.
Essay 7: Notes on the Theory of Reference In this text Quine explains Tarski's solution for the paradoxes in the theory of reference (e.g., the liar paradox).
Essay 8: Reference and Modality. In this text, Quine gives comments on the theory of reference and modal contexts (e.g., possibility, necessity).
Essay 9: Meaning and Existential Inference. In this essay, Quine treats the difficulties arising out of the distinction between meaning and reference, logical truth and singular terms.
Although the problems (and the reasoning behind them) are not always easy to understand for the layman, Quine's language is exceptionally clear.
"What is there?" is a simple way to put the ontological (study of being) question. But when two people disagree on the existence of something, we run into an ontological problem, stated by Quine as: "in any ontological dispute the proponent of the negative side suffers the disadvantage of not being able to admit that his opponent disagrees with him". If I say that there is a Pegasus, I can defend that notion by saying, "if there were no Pegasus, why are we able to talk about it?". I may eventaully submit and say that Pegasus is not a flesh and blood creature somewhere in the world, but rather an idea in men's minds." My opponent, however, is not claiming that Pegasus doesn't exist as an idea, but that it doesn't exist in the world as a flesh and blood creature.
The philosopher Wyman (I'm unsure which school he's criticizing here) comes in and fucks up our common notion of what existence means. However, if we lose the regular meaning of the term existence, we can still use the word 'is' to help explain the idea meant by "Pegasus does not exist". The philosopher allows much more things to exist, creating an odd ontology.
Quine makes absurd the notion that Pegasus exists (even though not in flesh and blood) with the mind experiment given here: "Take, for instance, the possible fat man in that doorway; and, again, the possible bald man in that doorway. Are they the same possible man, or two possible men? How do we decide? How many possible men are there in that doorway?" To admit that each 'idea' of the man is a separate existing entity is silly.
For what can method can we use for our ontology? Bertrand Russell had a theory of singular descriptions - it "showed clearly how we might meaningfully use seeming names without supposing that there be the entities allegedly named". The name can be used as a description of the thing named. Names don't need objective reference to be meaningful as we can use a variable to fulfill the role of the objective reference. When say Pegasus has wings, I am in fact saying there is a variable (say x) and that variable has the quality of being called 'Pegasus' and x also has the quality of having wings. The x doesn't need to exist in order for that formulation to be meaningful.
This problem could have been circumvented if we noticed the difference between 'meaning' and 'naming'. This brings us to another famous quote in this essay, so I'll just put it here.
"The phrase ‘Evening Star’ names a certain large physical object of spherical form, which is hurtling through space some scores of millions of miles from here. The phrase ‘Morning Star’ names the same thing, as was probably first established by some observant Babylonian. But the two phrases cannot be regarded as having the same meaning; otherwise that Babylonian could have dispensed with his observations and contented himself with reflecting on the meanings of his words. The meanings, then, being different from one another, must be other than the named object, which is one and the same in both cases."
The meaning of the singular term is different than what its reference (the object that the term denotes. If I work at the Daily Bugle, and I call out the name 'Peter Parker', I mean a much different thing than if I were to say 'Spider-man' because I don't know that they are the same person. Therefor meaning is not found in the named object.
Quine proceeds to criticise the notion of the existence of Plato's Universals. "we can view utterances as significant, and as synonymous or heteronymous with one another, without countenancing a realm of entities called meanings." Therefor we can have the notion of 'red' and say of multiple objects that there a red without admitting the existence of a universal 'red'.
There are a bunch of different schools of thought concerning this stuff. Quine goes through a few of them. The three 20th century schools of though correspond to the three mediaeval points of view.
1) Realism, now logicism, "Realism, as the word is used in connection with the mediaeval controversy over universals, is the Platonic doctrine that universals or abstract entities have being independently of the mind; the mind may discover them but cannot create them."
2) conceptualism, now intuitionism "Conceptualism holds that there are universals but they are mind-made."
3) nominalism, now formalism "echoes intuitionism in deploring the logicist’s unbridled recourse to universals" but wants to not use abstract entities at all.
W. V. Quine is best known for striking a (nearly) deathly blow to the analytic philosophy school of logical positivism, and the essays collected in this volume From a Logical Point of View: Nine Logico-Philosophical Essays chronicle this attack.
Although his approach is very different from his contemporaries, Quine follows Ludwig Wittgenstein’s turn away from logical positivism (see our review of Wittgenstein’s Tractatus. His own attack was at the metaphysical level, as he argues that the rejection of metaphysics by logical positivists has some grave, unintentional consequences. He then moves to try to reconcile metaphysics and the empiricism at the basis of logical positivism, and does so through a kind of realist pragmatism for which he has best come to be known.
Readers should begin with two essays: “On What There Is” (where famously he argues that “redness” does not exist), and “Two Dogmas of Empiricism” (where, for one, he critiques the Kantian distinction between analytic and synthetic knowledge; see Immanuel Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason. Readers will quickly get a sense for the apparent simplicity and elegance with which Quine completely levels the logical positivist apparatus.
Quine’s writing is uniquely clear and straightforward, and so there is value also in his exposition of some obscure, difficult concepts in analytic philosophy. A must read for readers interested in analytic philosophy, philosophy of science, logic, empiricism, and mathematics.
Had the constant feeling that my appreciation is entirely due to my background in early 20th century logic; for example "On What There Is" feels more obvious than I know it should, and I appreciate "New Foundations" entirely out of respect for Quine producing a pretty good summary of Principia Mathematica in as little as 12 pages (the new foundation being mostly a tweak on the theory of types). But mostly this collection is a good example of philosophizing from logic, rather than simply trying to make logic do things. And I'm also impressed at how, despite it being a collection of papers spanning some 15 or so years, he made an effort in arranging them so they built on each other and contributed to a greater coherence than many collections of papers typically care for.
It honestly took me quite a bit of time to get through each of these essays so it’s difficult for me to put together a coherent vision. In terms of the quality of the presentation I generally found the writing quite clear and expressive. In general the themes as I can gather tend to focus on ontology and meaning.
The early essays are of course quite famous leading to the slogans at least I would associate the author with: “to be is to be the value of a variable” and “our statements about the external world face the tribunal of sense experience not individually but only as a corporate body”.
In terms of the further essays they commonly raise areas of disquiet. Of particular interest to me was his discussion of ontological commitment with respect to predicates. He seems uncommitted to a platonist view of sets etc, nor constructivist, nor materialist in this respect, yet in future interviews he seems committed to these abstract objects. It’s not quite clear to me what he thinks here
I liked this book up to page 90, when it became so logic-oriented that I couldn't follow it. I don't know if I will pursue this author further, although I tentatively want to read his volume, "Word and Object".
Let's start with a confession, I don't understand formal logical systems as well as I probably should. Turns out if you're in a really pissy mood due to work-related crap and poor relationship decisions, formal logic is the last thing you need, so I wound up skipping a couple of essays, something I'm normally loathe to do. Sorry, W.V.O. Keeping you on my shelf for when I've got my shit together enough to delve headlong into your more logical/mathematical work.
Confession aside, while it was slow going, this is unquestionably essential reading for anyone who thinks about philosophical issues. “Two Dogmas,” the standout piece, and a major landmark of 20th Century philosophy, is really just fantastic stuff. Read it, and sail into a murkier area of thought. Methinks that a lot of the reason Quine huffed and puffed at Derrida so much is because so many of Derrida's ideas are just really shitty versions of Quine's.
Meaning in linguistics chapter is very helpful. Quine was an avowed atheist and not without contradiction in his writing. He is among the most difficult and cerebral authors that I'm encountered next to Nietzsche, who was spasmodic. The sophistry of Quine is more disciplined if equally disagreeable.
I'm not sure why people keep saying the `Two Dogmas' paper is the most significant in this text. While it is required canon for analytic philosophers so, too, is `On What There Is.' Don't do yourself the disservice of not reading at least both!
Those who have never had an opportunity to study formal logic would do well to read this collection of essays. To begin with, there are terms appropriate to logic itself as a discipline. This is an ideal place to begin to use such terms: ontology, 'everything,' nonbeing, Plato's beard, 'exist,' possibles, unactualized possibles, spatio-temporal reference, the aesthetic sense of those who have a taste for desert landscapes, disorderly elements, slum of possibles, contradiction, embracing an alternative, I wonder whether..., singular descriptions, Russell, goes by the board, meaningfulness, meaninglessness, the author of Waverley, the round and square cupola on Berkeley College, Pegasus, phrase, replacing one phrase for a word, first translate the word into a description, the difference between naming and meaning, classes, relations, attributes, numbers, functions, McX, Wyman...
After mastering these expressions and grasping what is behind them, you will have successfully introduced yourself to formal logic. You still will have a long trek ahead of you. Perhaps a ticket to Utah might be cheaper and more rewarding?
Incredibly difficult at times, especially Quine’s new foundations for Mathematics chapter. The man was a genius and dispelled many myths, revolutionised science (Duhem thesis), linguistics, cognitive science and so on.
Quine is a true heir of Hume, a man that cherishes hardcore empiricism in which necessity is not a feature of reality; everything is contingent and to be verified by our experience, empirically by science. Everything is to be referenced and quantified in the world so we don’t talk about nonsense too much. I respect the man and his legacy.
Quite fun! Quine’s prose is quippy but serious. These essays are very much in dialogue with the philosophical concerns of the day and as such there is definitely some missing context for me, although having read GEB definitely helped as a primer on these ongoing dialogues. I think my favorite essay was “Identity, Ostention, and Hypostasis” — exemplary of the way Quine is able to effectively work through muddled ideas and come out with a clear way of attacking the problems with a concept.
Note: It includes the essays: I. On what there is II. Two dogmas of empiricism III. The problem of meaning in linguistics IV. Identity, ostension, and hypostasis V. New foundations for mathematical logic VI. Logic and the reification of universals VII. Notes on the theory of reference VIII. Reference and modality IX. Meaning and existential inference
Quine was one of the most important and influential post-positivist philosophers, and this slim volume collects several of his most important essays. Aside from his critical eye and conceptual brilliance, Quine is consistent clever and witty in his use of language (which makes him stand out from a field known for turgid prose) and makes these a delight to read.
I wasn’t particularly interested in the contents, but it wasn’t the author’s fault. Quine’s writing style is very clear, with the perfect balance between concision and exposition.
Tuve que volver a estos ensayos para entender mejor Palabra y Objeto. Volver sobre los temas a sus orígenes aporta a su dilucidación, ese fue el plus de esta lectura respecto de la anterior. Ahora, al igual que en Palabra y Objeto, la eliminación del objeto intencional me produce dudas no por la objeción lógica, que se la concedo de buena gana, si no por su dificultad práctica.
Essays that sum up Quine's approach to analytic philosophy. The most important essay in the collection is "Two Dogmas of Empiricism". Originally published in 1951, it is one of the most celebrated papers of twentieth century philosophy in the analytic tradition. The essay is an attack on two central parts of the logical positivists' philosophy. One is the analytic-synthetic distinction between analytic truths and synthetic truths, explained by Quine as truths grounded only in meanings and independent of facts, and truths grounded in facts. The other is reductionism, the theory that each meaningful statement gets its meaning from some logical construction of terms that refers exclusively to immediate experience. "Two Dogmas" is divided into six sections. The first four sections are focused on analyticity, the last two sections on reductionism. There, Quine turns the focus to the logical positivists' theory of meaning. He also presents his own holistic theory of meaning. The collection as a whole is a classic of twentieth-century philosophy.
This collection of essays includes one of the most famous essays in twentieth century philosophy, "Two Dogmas of Empiricism"; these being 1) "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." and 2)" . . . reductionism: the belief that each meaningful statement is equivalent to some logical construct upon terms which refer to immediate experience." Fortunately, Quine advises to abandon them. He goes on to say that "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." A step back towards Sextus Empiricus, but not enough for this skeptic.
I strongly recommend this book if you like logic and philosophy of language a whole lot, because it is a classic and you will find it extremely interesting! If you do not want to do philosophy as your literal job you may instead find it extremely boring, and it may make you wonder why anyone would ever do philosophy as a job, although, in fairness, this book may make you wonder that even if you do philosophy as a job yourself.