The issue that I was drawn to post re Dummett was realism v anti-realism and, in particular, how this issue is affected by the extent to which we accept the existence of entities independent of their 'knowability'. But I am not sure how Dummett sees the issues from the titbits in the obits (though it seemed Dummett had a whiff of verificationism in that what exists for him must somehow depend on what is knowable). I should say that Popper's 'realism' is not only against 'verificationism' in any logical sense such as might ground a theory of induction but carries through on this at a fundamental metaphysical or ontological level: that is to say, for Popper, 'what is real' is logically independent of what is known (of what is real) - this means our attempts to know (or, better, guess) 'what is real/what is the case' are always conjectural. The 'problem of knowledge', in Popper's approach, is how to properly evaluate conjectures - how to assess their relative merits. There is no need, on this approach, to ground the relative merits of conjectures in some characteristic of the act of knowing that (somehow) guarantees that the knowing reflects what is the case. This represents a radical shift from the approach of traditional theories of knowledge. Not only is there no need but it cannot ever be done - these are the lessons behind Popper's claims that 'all knowledge is conjectural' but that we can nevertheless guess which of our conjectures are to be preferred. These lessons are exemplified by studying the workings of 'science'. But I turn to some other things - beginning with Popper's remark, made in a reported conversation, that "grammar" is a late stage in the development of language (he has in mind "grammar" in a Chomskyan sense and in the ordinary sense of the rules governing how language makes sense). Now this remark might be challenged by a linguist on the basis that if a language is to have any sense it must, by definition as it were, have grammar. But let us, as Wittgenstein was fond of saying, look at an actual case. This weekend I was engaging with a child of about 18 months that is not at the stage of making sentences but can utter some names ['mama', 'papa'] and some utterances - 'uh-oh' and 'bye-bye'. The child's use of 'bye-bye' is interesting for it uses the utterance the number of distinct ways. One is in the context of having to say 'bye-bye' to someone: this may be where the child was 'taught' the utterance. But the child most commonly uses 'bye-bye' to express that they have had enough of something - whether a story being read or food being offered. It also uses 'bye-bye' in a variant of 'having had enough' when the child is also being made anxious - so when brought too close for comfort to cows or dogs, for example, it will verbalise this with a 'bye-bye' and the body-language of retreat. The child also has a fascination with any gadgets and with computers - but is aware it should not be touching or approaching computers. Believing itself alone, the child heads under a chair where it has seen a lap-top and is reaching in to pull the lap-top out when they become aware of an adult entering the room - the child draws back from the computer and says 'bye-bye' to it, all the while checking that the adult is aware of this clear utterance. It seems to me in this last case the use of 'bye-bye' is a form of dissembling - the child is verbalising to signify to the adult (falsely) that the child's interest in the computer has come to an end or even to pretend that such interest does not exist (as if just by chance the child had ended up proximate to a lap-top which it wants nothing to do with). It seems to me that studying language-acquisition in children must be important as a testing ground for our 'philosophy of language', whatever that may be - and, in particular, that cognitive awareness of a kind much more sophicasted than the child's capacity to express itself must, in many of these cases, predate the development of the child's capacity to express itself. As to Dummett's view that 'philosophy of language' is the key to philosophy more generally, I suspect Popper would say the problem with people like Dummett is that they don't have a proper 'philosophy of language' at all - and certainly not one that can do justice to language-acquisition and the higher-level functions of language like theorising and arguing. For Popper it is the 'theory of knowledge' and not so-called 'philosophy of language' that is key to philosophical understanding: and, as the example of the child perhaps shows, even in explaining how we acquire language and understand 'meaning' we cannot operate without guessing what kind and level of 'knowledge' is held by the person acquiring and using language. Donal Salop ________________________________ From: "Jlsperanza@xxxxxxx" <Jlsperanza@xxxxxxx> To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx Sent: Tuesday, 10 January 2012, 12:32 Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: When you were in Oxford, did you dine in college? Dummett: "When you are in Oxford, do you dine in college?" --- Grammar and Style (reviewed by J. Winder, for the Independent). ---- "[Dummett]", Winder writes, "does himself few favours by proposing, as a model of a compound question, the sentence: 'When you are in Oxford, do you dine in college?' Good manners can, in the wrong company, appear merely snooty and disdainful. Dummett counters this line of criticism in his conclusion. The language has not, he insists, irrevocably renounced its rules. 'On the contrary, many people, reading prose written in conformity to them, find it exceptionally clear or pleasing, without being able to analyse why it makes this impression on them.' Probably he is right that not many people will be able to analyse exactly what is so clear and pleasing about this stiff, repetitive sentence. But the truly unsatisfying thing about this argument is: that's it. The sentence stands alone, begging about a thousand questio ns and casting doubt on the otherwise sensible advice with which [Dummett] is full." Three passages from the Guardian obituary, by Moore, online: "Dummett's many non-philosophical publications included books on immigration, Catholicism, tarot cards, and voting procedures (he devised the Quota Borda system of voting), as well as Grammar and Style for Examination Candidates and Others (1993), the culmination of his relentless fight against low standards of literacy." "That fight occasionally found amusing expression in his other work. His last book on Frege included a delicious footnote in which, having forestalled a possible misunderstanding of one of the sentences in the main text, he went on to lament the fact that the only reason for the note was that few writers or publishers nowadays [----->] "evince a grasp of the distinction between a gerund and a participle". He continued, with characteristic tetchiness: "People frequently remark that they see no point in observing grammatical rules, so long as they convey their meaning. This is like saying that there is nothing wrong with using a razor blade to cut string, so long as the string is cut. By violating the rules, they make it difficult for others to express their meaning without ambiguity."" "Some readers of Dummett would say that it was ironic that he was so preoccupied with style, since his own prose left much to be desired. It is true that his sentences often displayed a rather unwieldy complexity. But they also displayed an acute sensitivity to the structure of the thoughts that they were intended to convey; and that fact, combined with the precision with which Dummett chose his words, meant that there was a real clarity about his writing, however lacking it might have been in facility. The writing was in some respects like the man – marked by honesty and integrity, though it could at times be difficult." ----- Re: Moore's "it was ironic that..." cfr.: Peacoke's memoir of Dummett in the NYT, online: "The gap between Michael’s theory and his practical life was a reliable source of pleasure to his friends. He published original contributions to the theory of voting; yet he designed a system for a Wardenship election in Oxford that permitted — and produced — massive tactical voting. He published a book on writing style in philosophy, an enterprise described by one philosopher as comparable to Attila the Hun producing a book on etiquette." Finally, Stanley's anecdote therein, too. He was "sitting in the New College Senior Common Room after lunch discussing the meaning of the word “if” with another philosopher. Dummett was huddled over a newspaper elsewhere in the room. I remarked how odd it was to think that the word “if” could have radically different meanings on different occasions of use, for example one meaning in a sentence like “If Oswald didn’t kill Kennedy, someone else did,” and another meaning in a sentence like “If Oswald hadn’t of killed Kennedy, someone else would have.” From a cloud of tobacco smoke halfway across the room, Dummett piped up, “I wonder if you really think that.”" Cheers. Speranza ------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html