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Philosophy of Psychology - Part A

[Outline of this page]

Given our deeply-rooted impulse to presume that all nouns are names, either of things tangible or ghostly ("abstract"), nothing serves to correct this false picture of the logic of our language -- i.e. of language meaning -- more than turning our attention to psychology, where words are not names of things but have a very different use in the language.

Wittgenstein's metaphor - Language as a tool chest

We are going from one subject matter of philosophy to another, from one group of words to another group of words.

An intelligent way of dividing up a book on philosophy would be into parts of speech, kinds of words. Where in fact you would have to distinguish far more parts of speech than an ordinary grammar does.

I have often compared language to a tool chest, containing a hammer, chisel, matches, nails, screws, glue. It is not by chance that all these things have been put together ... although nothing could be more different than [the way we use] glue and a chisel.

One thing we always do when discussing a word is to ask how we were taught it. (LC i, 2-5, p. 1; cf. PI §§ 11, 17)

The discussion of the Philosophy of Psychology may be divided into two parts: (A) the Language of Feeling and (B) the Language of Mind.

A. The Language of Feeling

The language of feeling may be divided into three parts of speech: [1] sensation-words, [2] mood-words (or, emotion-words), and [3] disposition-words, as in this chart (Z §§ 488, 504):

Parts of speech of psychological words

The Language of Feeling
Sensations
(bodily feelings)		 Moods or
emotions		 Dispositions
e.g. pain,
toothache.
Characterized
by
localization,
(specific or
diffuse) and
by duration;
independent
of mood 		e.g. joy,
sorrow.
Characterized
by duration,
but not
localized
(nor diffused)
though may be
accompanied by
sensations 		e.g. love.
Characterized
neither by
duration nor
localization;
independent
of mood

The above division into {parts of speech}, or categories of {kinds of word use}, can serve as an object of comparison.

[But] how we group words into kinds will depend on the aim of the classification, -- and on our own inclination.

Think of the different points of view from which one can classify tools or chess-men. (PI § 17)

In other words, there are many ways to slice a pie, and which way we choose to slice a pie will depend on what we want to do with the slices, on what our purpose is for slicing the pie. Because there are countless possible categories of meaning.

As an object of comparison, note that the meaning of 'meaning' Wittgenstein's logic of language uses (namely "grammatical" meaning, in Wittgenstein's jargon) is only one of the many meanings of 'meaning' in our language. But Wittgenstein chose the meaning of 'meaning' he did with the purpose of making an objective distinction between sense and nonsense -- because without an objective distinction between language-with-meaning and language-without-meaning, philosophy is nothing more than babble of words.

Outline of this page ...

Indefiniteness of psychological concepts

The boundaries of our psychological concepts -- i.e. rules for using our psychological vocabulary (words) -- are fluid like water, quite unlike the frozen (rigid) rules of chess. For example, is hope a mood or a disposition -- e.g. do we cease to hope when we fall asleep, e.g. when we are expecting a letter in the mail?

That is a "grammatical question" (in Wittgenstein's jargon) -- i.e. it asks for a description of the use of a word in our language, and in this case it shows that there is no rule for answering that question. And it is a more or less arbitrary rule that we need in order to answer the question, not some new fact about human nature.

Dispositions, Moods, Sensations (contrasted)

And we may say that dispositions are characterized by duration (e.g. 'I used to love her') -- but by 'duration' in the chart above is meant that we do not cease to love when we are asleep or if we are temporarily knocked unconscious.

We need not be aware of our dispositions, e.g. impatience or jealousy. But we do not apply the word 'joyous' to a sleeping person: we must be aware -- or be able to be made aware -- of our emotions, e.g. anger. It is nonsense (i.e. undefined language) to say 'I have a toothache but I am not aware of it'; but one can say 'I was not aware at the time that I was being impatient with that fellow, but I now agree with you that I was'.

Open-ended Concepts

Wittgenstein compared using language to playing a game according to rules (He called these language games), but our actual rules for using words are not so strict as the rules of most games are.

With respect to the boundaries of psychological concepts, we wander like sheep in a vaguely defined field, and if we want there to be strict limits we must play the part of shepherd and assign them. For if we only describe how we normally use psychological words, strict boundaries cannot be drawn. (There are nevertheless some strict rules.)

What is love? versus How is the word 'love' used in the language? (Changing the point of view)

Love is not a feeling. Love is put to the test, pain not. One does not say: "That was not true pain, or it would not have gone off so quickly." (Z § 504)

Note that in that particular remark from Wittgenstein, 'feeling' = 'sensation'. And the category of 'feeling' in his remark excludes emotions and dispositions. Or in other words in that remark, 'pain' is a sensation-word but 'love' is not.

"... or it would not have gone off so quickly." Our language also allows us to say that if it goes off at all, then it wasn't love, as for example 'I thought I loved her' rather than 'I used to love her'.

But love is sometimes accompanied by particular moods and sensations, although those feelings are not defining. As e.g. we may be very angry at someone we love.

A false grammatical picture

We have a picture of love as an independently existing phenomenon -- independent, that is, of our conceptualization of it -- as if there were a raw phenomenon that we might throw a lasso around as a cowboy ropes in a steer and then ask: What sort of creature have we lassoed? as if phenomena were nebulous objects (It is superfluous to add 'physical'; there are no abstract objects) to lasso or capture in a broadly-thrown net.

But what is this lasso; what is this net? It is our concepts -- our language, our rules for using words. As with percepts, phenomena without concepts are blind. About "raw" phenomena -- whatever, if anything, they are when they're at home -- we know nothing. To see their relationship aright we must recognize that concepts set the limits of phenomena, not phenomena the limits of concepts.

Defining a statement by setting criteria for its verification versus not defining it

"What is love? Did I love that person?" Is the response to that question: By what measure or standard of verification (cf. a standard of measurement is what Plato has Socrates seek in Euthyphro 6d-7d)? Is the word 'love' like the word 'force', i.e. without meaning apart from how force is measured?

How is love measured or verified? For example, did I do this and did I do that? But if I say that love can't be measured, then there is no answer to my question -- indeed, it is not a question at all, although it has the form of one. A question-sign -- i.e. marks on paper, spoken sounds -- is not answerable because a question-sign does not have meaning; by itself it is merely an undefined combination of words.

We could describe games for either rule: 'Love can be measured' -- and here we must state a criterion or standard -- or 'Love cannot be measured'. But if we simply describe the way we normally use the word 'love', then we find that both rules are in use.

"... for we ourselves made it unverifiable"

'Love is a nebulous phenomenon. It cannot be measured.' If I say this, then I myself have made the question 'Did I love that person?' unanswerable (Z § 259), and then all that remains is "whatever seems true" to me (PI § 258), but seeming ≠ being.

When someone acts this way, refusing to set criteria, we say that the person is being irrational. But our concept 'love' is indefinite: it allows us to say that love is immeasurable without our being irrational or talking nonsense.

And if our language had no word 'love'?

A language that had only the words 'liking' and 'desire', but not the word 'love', would be a very different language from our own, if there were no other common way to make the distinctions we make with those three words. Are the limits of language the limits of thought? (George Orwell)

Concepts ... are the expression of our interest, and direct our interest. (PI § 570)

They are the tools we use to think about reality, such as they are.

The language of feeling in first person statements

The statement 'I have a toothache.' In the first person, the language of sensations is applied without criterion (Z § 472). I do not identify my feeling by recognizing that I am having it again; I have no criterion for making that identification, no method of verification.

I have no criterion of correctness.... whatever is going to seem right to me is right. And that only means that here we can't talk about 'right'. (PI § 258)

Rather, what I do is to repeat an expression (ibid. § 290). But to use this language without justification (i.e. without verification or identification) is not to use it without the right -- the grammatical right, that is, of someone who has learned our language, of someone who can say, "I have learnt English" (ibid. §§ 289, 381).

The point is that this is how we play the game. (I mean the language game ...) (ibid. § 71)

For example, the language games with the words 'I have a toothache' and 'My ankle hurts'. Objection: "But isn't it absurd to say that we cannot recognize our feelings? Were that the case, doctors would not ask us about them -- because if our use of this language is arbitrary (without rules), what would be the point?"

The concepts 'taste' and 'pain'. Taste is put to the test, but not pain

Imagine this language game: we begin with crackers of the same texture but of different flavors, say vanilla, lemon, anise, and we blindfold people and ask them to identify the flavors of the crackers by taste alone. We ask them 'Which flavor is this?' and they answer 'vanilla' or 'lemon' or 'anise'.

Now the people tasting the foods will likely identify the flavors correctly every time we play this primitive language game. "So if we are able do this with taste -- why not with our other feelings (sensations)?"

That is the innocent-looking move in the conjuring trick (PI § 308). Because for whom are the tasters' answers correct? Not for the tasters. For them, "whatever seems right here is going to be right", etc. (ibid. § 258) It is for the tester that the tasters' answers are correct or incorrect; because it is the tester who has an objective criterion of correctness: the tester is the one in the position to identify the foods, not the taster (OC § 555).

Are the five senses, sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch, sensations?

Is 'taste' a sensation-word? [Note 1] In the above game, I seem to be comparing it to one -- from the viewpoint of the taster, but not the tester. Similar primitive language games could be invented for the other four senses, and again the question would be: who has the criterion of correctness -- the tested or the tester? A test for touch with objects of different textures, for hearing with different musical instruments, for smell as for taste, and for sight with various colors.

Verification and sense perception

'Is the book on the shelf?' -- 'I will look.' 'Is this a recording of a bassoon?' -- 'I will listen.' 'Is the flower fragrant?' -- 'I will smell.' 'Is there too much salt in the soup?' -- 'I will taste.' 'Is this fabric too rough?' -- 'I will touch.' All these acts of verifications involve only one sense; that sense is not isolated from the others, but the other four are not involved and so are not used to verify the report of the fifth.

But does it follow therefore that the grammar of the language of the five senses is the same as the language of sensation?

What is the difference between the propositions 'I have a toothache' and 'I have teeth'? As a description of its grammar is proposed contra Wittgenstein, whereas the meaning of the second proposition is public, the meaning of the first proposition is private. But as Wittgenstein shows, a private meaning is equivalent to no meaning at all (PI § 293) -- a meaning that is not objective is not a meaning, because how is "meaning" of that kind to be distinguished from nonsense? Well, it isn't.

Language meaning is public agreement

In Wittgenstein's description of the logic of our language, as in the primitive language games above, the criterion of correctness is public, not private to the individual -- indeed, for the individual in isolation there is no correct or incorrect. There is no private knowledge.

"So you are saying that human agreement decides what is true and what is false?" -- It is what human beings say that is true and false; and they agree in the language they use. That is not agreement in opinions but in way of life. (ibid. § 241)

Coincidental agreement in ways of life is of course public agreement. Wittgenstein's meaning of 'language meaning' is essentially "open to the public". Nothing about language-meaning is hidden (ibid. § 435); nothing is essentially private.

The difficulty is to realize the groundlessness of our [language use] -- (cf. OC § 166) --

-- while at the same time realizing the grounds of our language use. (What is also difficult to realize is that all the above remarks belong to grammar: all are descriptive of the use of language; none are metaphysical (hypotheses).)

A sign is merely spoken sounds, marks on paper -- and so what gives the sign meaning?

Is a "private language" -- i.e. one that refers to things that only I can know, such things as my own sensations, as e.g. pain -- logically possible (i.e. describable)?

Could we [describe a language] the individual words of which are to refer to what can only be known to the person speaking; to his immediate private sensations. So [that] another person cannot understand the language? (PI § 243)

"Private Language"

This begins Wittgenstein's investigation of "private language": someone kidnaps our common word 'sensation' (ibid. § 261); says he applies it to a private "something" to which he gives the name 'S' (ibid. § 258); he says he identifies recurrences of S and records them in a notebook; he calls this his private convention. To which it is asked: what is the difference between his following his convention and not following it? Because there is no method for identifying S (no criterion for the correct identification of "S" other than whatever seems to be correct); it might be different every occurrence; it might even be nothing (ibid. § 293). [Note 2]

If our use of a sensation-word were to name a "private object", then what would be the bearer of the name if this private object can -- because there is no method by which to identify it -- sometimes be this, sometimes that, or be nothing at all?

That is to say: if we construe the grammar of the sensation [word] on the model of "object and designation" the object drops out of consideration as irrelevant. (ibid. § 293)

The "object" drops out and we are left with only the "name". We are left with the question: how does a sensation-word get its meaning?

When discussing a word we always ask, How we were taught it? (LC i, 5, p. 1)

Remember how we learn to use words like 'I have a toothache', in what language games they have a role. We cry and hold our jaw and our mother says 'Poor dear, does your tooth hurt?', and 'Poor darling, does your tooth still hurt?' And in this way the child learns to say 'I have a toothache' instead of crying.

How does a human being learn the meaning ... of the word 'pain' ... Here is one possibility: ... the verbal expression of pain replaces crying. (PI § 244). [Note 3]

Our language game is an extension of primitive [i.e. pre-linguistic] behavior. (Because our language game is behavior.) (Instinct) (Z § 545)

*

As children we learned the natural language we speak

When we become adults we forget -- i.e. overlook -- that we learned to use the language we speak, that we learned it from other human beings, beings whose way of life we learned to participate in. And then our philosophical daydreams begin (e.g. Descartes imagines there are ideas he knows independently of the language he learned from the community in which he was raised).

It would be as if without knowing how to play chess, I were to try to make out what the word 'mate' meant by close observation of the last move of some game of chess. (PI § 316; cf. § 384)

We could say: children's lives do not begin in their minds. Or again: children do not have an "inner life" (a philosophical life). As adults we forget that our language is a gift we received, not something we ourselves invented. (Although Augustine does remember that as children we learn the language we speak, he describes a much simpler language than the one we learn.)

We can, of course, record occurrences of our sensations in a notebook. But the language we use will be public, its conventions knowable by any speaker of the language. Conventions are public events: the meaning of language is public. What we actually call 'private conventions' -- i.e. codes -- can be broken or revealed to others.

Verification and illusion

"It might even be nothing ... So our language determines what is real and what is illusion?" It is only in our practice of using language, our way of life, that something is real or illusory. For from where else will the words 'real' and 'illusory' get their meaning? (Z §§ 241-2)

*

Words are not defined by introspection (not for our public -- nor for anyone's private -- language)

Introspection can never lead to a definition. It can only lead to a psychological statement about the introspector. (RPP i § 212)

Suppose someone said, 'Whenever I am insincere, I have a particular feeling in my eyes that I never have otherwise ...'

[But someone] else perhaps feels something quite different; and if both of them make correct use of the word ... the essence [of the language game] ... lies in this use [of language], and not in what they may say about what they experience. (ibid.)

What is defining of a word belongs to grammar (PI § 371), i.e. to a description of the word's use in the language (That use is the "essence" of the word's meaning or, in other words, that without which it would be meaningless). Someone may testify to feeling any number of things when they act insincerely, one thing today, another next month, nothing next week. This, however, does not affect the rules of the language games (played according rules) with the word 'insincere'; the meaning of a word does not fluctuate with anyone's peculiar psychology.

Introspection may reveal all sorts of phenomena. But --

We are not analyzing a phenomenon (e.g. thought) but a concept (e.g. that of thinking), and therefore the use of a word. (PI § 383)

It "is possible to be interested in a phenomenon in a variety of ways" (ibid. § 108), but Wittgenstein's interest (or logic of language's interest) is in understanding our use of our psychological language, not our psychological experiences. Wittgenstein was looking for the "grammar" -- i.e. the objective meaning of our language which is given in the public conventions (rules) for using signs (sounds, marks on paper).

What I am looking for is the grammatical difference. (ibid. II, viii, p. 185i)

Comparing sight and sensation

Is 'sight' a sensation-word? Is it like 'pain'? [Note 4]

We can often be mistaken about what we see. I see a tree. No, I am told: it is a shadow. I look at it from different angles. Yes, I was mistaken: it is a shadow. (Verification)

But if someone said: 'No, it isn't a toothache; I was mistaken: it is my knee that aches' -- we would not understand him, because we cannot understand nonsense (undefined language, i.e. signs without sense).

I cannot verify whether I am in pain, but I can (in many cases) verify what I see. "But after you verify that you do indeed see a tree, then isn't the grammar of 'sight' like the grammar of 'pain'?" (I am asking about the use of a word.)

No, no matter how certain -- even objectively certain -- I am about what I see, I may still be shown to be wrong. Verification comes to an end, but not the grammatical possibility of my being wrong. But it is not that way with pain, that is, with our concept 'pain'.

Unmistaken but wrong | Neither right nor wrong

Nevertheless, it may seem that the difference between sight and pain is only that pain is private, whereas sight is public. But --

[Question: if 'logically possible' = 'describable', then what would be an example of my being wrong yet not mistaken? If I say that my pain is in the table across the room? Only if the word 'pain' is used ambiguously. (Psychology and Physiology)]

*

Words as tools, not names of things (Use in the language versus meaning)

Truth, like knowledge, belongs to the community. (But this is a grammatical remark.) The picture: what the eye of God sees -- which sees what man cannot see -- the absolute truth --

But here it is an important fact that I imagined a deity in order to imagine this. (PI § 346)

Look at the word 'truth' as a tool with various uses in our life, and at its meaning as the work it is used to do there (ibid. §§ 421, 360; cf. 'to know').

*

But verification of sense perceptions (further evidence) is unusual

The concepts 'pain' and 'taste'. Why can't we simply take judicial notice that, as a very general fact of nature (PI II, xii p. 230), human beings are able to recognize things that they often see (or hear or smell or taste or touch)?

Around me there are papers and pencils and boxes and chairs and tables -- all the common names of which I know. In the kitchen oranges I can recognize by taste. I can recognize many people, and I even know their proper names. And so on and so on.

If we look at life of everyday, we do not find ourselves verifying many things. I may check the list in my overcoat pocket when I am at the grocery store to see if I am to buy flour, or I may need to check a dictionary for the spelling of a word that I don't often write down. And when I hear a bang at the front door, I may guess, "That will be the mail", and go to collect it, which will verify or falsify my guess.

But "Is that really ...?" is a question I may easily go the whole day through without once asking.

My life consists in my being content to accept many things. (OC § 344; the question of verification, of "How do you know?")

To accept, to believe in without grounds, most of my memories and perceptions of day to day life, the regularity of nature, historical facts I was taught at school --

"Recognizing a sensation"

What then is so important about the notion of "recognizing a sensation"? In the everyday use of language -- nothing. There is even a language game where the doctor asks the patient if this is a new pain or if the patient has had it before -- i.e. the doctor asks 'Do you recognize ...?' because an unusual pain may be the symptom of a disease. (Of course, in this case too, the patient does no more than repeat an expression (PI § 290).)

The meaning of language is the work it does in civil life (Language meaning belongs to the community)

It is only in philosophy that the notion of "recognizing a sensation" shows itself to be important. Because our natural inclination when asked for the meaning of psychological words is to look within ourselves for the answer. But we cannot just as a matter of course "privatize" language: we cannot just divorce words from "the language games that are their original home" (ibid. § 116) and expect them to retain their meaning (as if meaning were a halo a word retained in all circumstances), as if all words had essential definitions.

Wittgenstein compared words to the gears of an engine: their meaning is shown when the gears are engaged in use, not when they are idling (ibid. §§ 132, 38). When we take words away from the work they are used to do in our civil life, as we do when we look within ourselves for their meaning, then words are like unengaged gears.

Again, we call many things "the meaning", but not all those definitions of 'meaning' make the distinction between sense and nonsense objective. Wittgenstein chose the meaning of 'meaning' he did with that end in view.

Symptom versus Criterion

"Do I do these things because I am a fool, or am I a fool because I do these things?" And why don't I know? But this is like the ancient question "Which came first, the owl or the egg?" because unless we set conditions for a correct answer, the "question" is nonsense (i.e. the question-sign is an undefined combination of words).

The language of feeling in third person statements -- criteria and symptoms

In the third person -- i.e. when we are talking about other people -- we apply the language of feeling either according to criteria alone or according to both criteria and symptoms. In Wittgenstein's jargon, by 'criteria' is meant rules of grammar (Rather than 'criterion' we could use the expression 'defining characteristic', remembering that by 'definition' we mean 'rule for using a word', not 'hypothesis about the nature of some thing'); and by 'symptoms' is meant "hypotheses" in the sense of testable statements of fact. And, dependent on context, the same phenomenon, e.g. tears, may be either a criterion or a symptom.

If we were asked how we knew that someone was sad, we might reply that we had inferred that the person was sad from their behavior, e.g. crying, then verified our inference by questioning the person. In that case crying would be a symptom of sadness (verifiable hypothesis), but only because crying is a criterion (belongs to a definition) of 'sadness' (as it does not belong to a definition of 'standing' or 'jumping').

That example is a primitive language game, as it excludes context and as there may normally be several symptoms and criteria.

A 'criterion' is a rule for applying a word; e.g. given such-and-such circumstances this behavior is to be called 'sadness'.

But in answer to the question of how we knew that someone was sad, we might reply that we had witnessed the person crying. There may have been no inference and no verification. Uncertainty is not present in all circumstances; it may have been that, not only had we no grounds for doubt, but that we in fact did not doubt. In that case crying would have been the criterion of sadness -- i.e. criterion for applying the word 'sadness' -- and there would have been no symptoms.

Nothing is commoner than for the meaning of an expression to oscillate, for a phenomenon to be [counted] sometimes as a symptom, sometimes as a criterion ... [But] that these are not always sharply differentiated [in practice] does not prevent them from being differentiated [in grammatical investigations]. (Z §§ 438, 466)

But the second example may suggest that the word 'sadness' can be replaced by the word 'crying' -- that 'I saw someone sad' = 'I saw someone crying'. But no, 'crying' and 'sadness' are different concepts, i.e. words with different uses in the language.

By the word 'concept' here I mean a sign with a well-established use in the language. Because the concept 'concept' is nebulous, in order to make it useful I have invented this jargon. [Note 5] Another definition in my jargon is 'concept' = 'rules for using a sign'.

There can be sadness without tears, as indeed there can be tears of pain, joy, frustration, or boredom. (That is a grammatical reminder.) Behavior -- and crying is an example of behavior -- requires a context if it is to be a criterion of an emotion, if it is to be defining of an emotion-word. (Z § 492)

Example of a "grammatical joke" (weather report)

"Different concepts. -- But is that the whole difference, that we use the words differently? Aren't crying and sadness different phenomena?" If I say I am crying because I am sad, "the 'because' does not relate to a cause" (RPP i § 217). Ask yourself: do gray clouds and rain cause gloomy weather? ("Weather Report: Our gloomy weather is being caused by clouds and rain." This is a grammatical joke.) Crying and saying the words 'I am sad' are both bits of the behavior of sadness (ibid. i § 450), the behavior we describe when we give the grammar (i.e. describe the use in the language) of the word 'sadness'.

Is 'sadness' a name?

Our misunderstanding lies in our assuming that the word 'sadness' is the name of something, if not of some object then of some behavior (phenomenon). "But if it is not the name of something, then mustn't it be the name of nothing -- and, so, meaningless?" Very well then, it is "meaningless" -- but that only means: ask for the use of the word in the language (PI § 43) rather than for its "meaning". Not all nouns are names; look at the word 'sadness' as a tool (ibid. § 360) we use in some circumstances of our life.

Is the meaning "within" or without?

We have the notion that the "inner object", not the "outer" criteria and symptoms, is what important about sadness [Note 6]. Our tears are for the character portrayed, not for the actor.

'Tis very true, my grief lies all within;
And these external manners of laments
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
That swells with silence in the tortur'd soul;
There lies the substance ... (Richard II iv, 1)

The substance named by the substantive (i.e. noun = "the name of a person, place, or thing") 'grief'. But what do I know of anyone else's "inner substance" -- how can I be given an ostensive definition of that (for what shall we point to)? And so why don't we say here -- as we would say in any other case where we were told that "X exists but cannot, as we define 'x', be demonstrated to exist" -- that x does not exist? The answer to the grammatical question is that the expression 'someone else's feeling' does not equal 'x' here. The expression 'unseen grief' does have a use in our language, but to "name a private object" is not it.

In the real case

Just try -- in a real case -- to doubt someone else's fear or pain. (PI § 303)

That we do not normally doubt whether someone else is afraid or in pain is a very general fact of nature. If this fact were otherwise, if it were normal for us to doubt or disbelieve, then we wouldn't have the concepts -- i.e. the language -- that we do have. (ibid. II, xii p. 230)

Attitude towards a soul versus attitude towards an automaton

[When I respond to someone's behavior] my attitude towards him is an attitude towards a soul [in contrast to, say, an automaton (robot)]. I am not of the opinion that he has a soul. (PI II, iv, p. 178; cf. an instinct is not an opinion)

There are cases where someone's sincerity or honesty is a "matter of opinion", i.e. cases where there is evidence which, though not conclusive, inclines us toward believing or doubting. These cases are a matter for reflection in the light of experience. But --

Grammatical antitheses: belief and disbelief

The interdependent grammars of words that are antitheses: e.g. there can be no concept 'doubt' ('disbelief') without a corresponding concept 'belief'. Belief must come before doubt (disbelief), just as faith comes before disillusion, expectation before disappointment. A house cannot fall down before it is built. These are grammatical remarks (reminders of rules); if they are also statements of fact, they are statements of fact about our language (They are logic, not metaphysical claims about reality in itself). (Cf. There cannot be jam tomorrow if there is never jam today; that is the interconnection between the concepts 'today', 'tomorrow' and 'never'. The contrary rule is nonsense.)

The game of doubting itself presupposes certainty [i.e. being certain]. (OC § 115)

The child learns by believing ... Doubt comes after belief. (ibid. § 160)

Wittgenstein is referring here to the attitude of belief that comes before doubt, as the child's belief (faith) does, the attitude that is akin to instinct.

"But, if you are certain, isn't it that you are shutting your eyes in the face of doubt?" -- They are shut. (PI II, xi, p. 224)

As a matter of fact we don't doubt (our eyes are closed to doubt, but not because it is impossible to doubt). Why in a real case don't I doubt someone else's pain? Is it because I am so familiar with my own "inner substance"? How (hand on heart) can we say that this is nothing. First, introspection only shows me what pain amounts to in my own case, not in anyone else's (RPP i § 212). And second --

"Not an object for an hypothesis"

It is not a something, but not a nothing either ... We have only rejected the grammar that tries to force itself on us here. (PI § 304)

The grammar that has been shown to be inapplicable to the word 'pain' is the grammar of name-of-object word. But we must not now say: "Look at it this way: to be is not necessarily to be an object for an hypothesis." Because while this may appear to propose a rule of grammar for a part of speech named "something-nothing word", all it really does is to give new life to the idea that some words are the names of "abstract objects" (whatever an "abstract object' is when it's at home, namely a ghost). And if we want to understand the logic of our language, we must "break with that idea" (ibid. § 304) -- i.e. we must stop trying to force all words into the single category of language use 'name-of-object'. "Words are names and the meaning of a name is the thing the name stands for" is a false description of the logic of our language.

The words that name sensations, emotions and dispositions do not name inner objects, hidden from the view of everyone but the individual experiencing them. And --

Is an "inner" emotion so inner?

A small child cannot conceal its terror. Such an emotion is as much "outer" as anything seen. It is seen. (Drury, The Danger of Words (1973), p. 79)

That is another picture, one intended to loosen the grip of Shakespeare's picture.

If we are using the word 'to know' as it is normally used (and how else are we to use it?), then other people very often know [i.e. see and hear] when I am in pain. (PI § 246)

Can the soul be seen? (Grammar is not a theory of reality)

Someone might for a particular purpose make a rule to allow 'You see the soul', where 'the soul' = 'an individual's thoughts and feelings, the individual's inner life' -- or he might exclude that combination of words from the language. Excluding it from the language is all the rule 'You can't see the soul' would do. And here it is important to see just that -- that the question here is about grammatical rules, not about reality, not about the facts of reality. (Philosophy and the distinction between a conceptual and a factual investigation.)

In the case of the child's terror, is it nonsense to say 'You see the child's soul' if that equals 'You see the child's terror' -- i.e. is there a rule of grammar 'You can never see anyone's soul' in our language?

It seems that if we describe our normal use of language, neither 'You see the soul' nor 'You do not see the soul' is nonsense, because we often say that people conceal their feelings and thoughts from us. So that which statement is true will depend on circumstances -- i.e. on whether we see some person's feelings and thoughts or the person conceals them from us.

The proposition 'You can never see the soul' is neither a true nor a false statement of fact (or does it belong to a metaphysical discussion of "what the soul really is"?) It is either a rule for using the word 'soul' or it is nonsense.

Nonsense is produced by trying to express by the use of language what ought to be embodied in the grammar. (PP iii, p. 312)

Because the rule 'You can never see the soul' is contrary to our normal rule of grammar which is 'You can sometimes see the soul' -- as e.g. we say "A good actor shows us his character's thoughts and feelings without saying a word."

The Apostle Paul asks rhetorically who can know a man's thoughts except the man himself (1 Corinthians 2.11). But Shakespeare's Macbeth says "Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know" (i, 7). It is possible to show what we are thinking, what we would like others to believe that we are thinking, or to not show our thoughts at all.

The disposition 'kindness' and the emotion 'sadness'

In Aristotle there is the picture of a disposition-word as the name of something (something or other). "Kindness -- under the influence of which a man is said to be kind -- may be defined as ..." (Rhetoric 1385a; tr. W. Rhys Roberts) Aristotle tries to give a "real definition" of kindness, i.e. to state what the essence of whatever the thing named 'kindness' is. But instead, what Aristotle goes on to state is the general common nature of the acts that we call 'being kind'. Aristotle's picture, his hypostatized "kindness", is merely mystifying: what is it, a fluid of some sort?

Compare the picture of bodily humors, e.g. "black bile" flows and I am sad. Or the picture: tears are sadness pouring out of us; and when the tears are gone so is the sadness. Which is like the picture: "There was thunder, and then the sky began to pour forth its troubles on us." The picture exists, but what is its application? (PI § 424) -- what has the picture to do with the meaning of psychological words?

"The clouds of sadness"

We have a picture of sadness as a diffused cloud that pervades the body -- or the soul ("The human body is the best picture of the human soul" (ibid. II, iv, p. 178)). Now, someone who has been sad for quite a while, weeping the whole time, may experience a warmth flowing through their body. This is an example of a diffuse sensation (like e.g. warmth from lying in the sun) accompanying an emotion. This sensation of warmth is like a cloud pervading the body.

But why say that the emotion is only diffused throughout the body? If we are drawn to speak of sadness as a "cloud descending" (Z § 517), why only say that it descends on the body -- rather than say that it descends on the whole world? Because doesn't it ("the world of a sad person" in contrast to the world of a happy person)? And we might bring this picture forward to loosen the grips of the other.

The meaning of language is its use, not the pictures it suggests

What would count for, what against, Aristotle's hypothesis "Kindness, under the influence of which a man is said to be kind ..."? Of course we have no idea. The power of a picture that we don't know how to question. And that is why Wittgenstein said, "Look on the language game as the primary thing" (PI § 656). In his logic of language attention is turned away from pictures -- towards the use made of words in our language; a description of that use, and not whatever pictures the words may suggest to us, is the meaning of the words. (A language game is public -- the rules of the game and the game pieces are objective, verifiable, identifiable.)

[What is Aristotle's "kindness' -- solid, liquid, gas, ghost?]

Yes, but a symptom of what? A symptom cannot be of nothing.

Can one be sad and have cheerful thoughts, not in passing moments, but the whole time? If 'sadness' is the name of an object, then this ought to be an empirical question, a question of fact for medical research -- rather than a question about rules for the use of words. Having sad thoughts is a criterion of being sad, i.e. part of the grammar of 'sadness'.

What would it mean to call sad thoughts a symptom of sadness? (The question is a grammatical joke.) "A symptom," we may want to respond,"-- a symptom of what?" What is the meaning of an emotion-word? And we will go on insisting that we want to know what the word 'sadness' names -- insisting on being pointed to an object of some unheard of kind (so unheard of that it may be nothing at all). But the only object there is to show us is the word 'sadness', which is only marks on paper or spoken sounds. (What gives the marks or sounds meaning?)

"Thinking oneself wise when one is not" (Apology 29a)

Aristotle's conjured up picture of kindness ("something under the influence of which") contributes nothing to our understanding, and it violates the Socratic directive, acknowledged by Wittgenstein, that we should say no more than we know (BB p. 45). In Lewis Carroll, Alice, who has not tasted the soup, says, sneezing, that there is certainly too much pepper in the soup. But the narrator says only that there was certainly too much pepper in the air. Alice says more than she knows. (Alice in Wonderland, vi)

The fear of death is only an instance of thinking oneself wise when one is not; for it is to think one knows what one does not know. (Plato, Apology 29a, tr. Guthrie)

Namely whether death is to be feared. Nothing would have been lost -- and indeed clarity would have been gained -- had Aristotle simply stated no more than he knew --

Aristotle's definition of the word 'kindness'

Kindness ... may be defined as helpfulness towards someone in need, not in return for anything, nor for the advantage of the helper himself, but for that of the person helped. (Rhetoric 1385a)

There is no "real definition" (no hypothesis about what kindness is) of kindness. (The definition 'Mercy is the forgiveness that you don't deserve' is not an hypothesis.)

Note 1: The following discussion is distantly related to Wittgenstein's conversation with Bouwsma, September 16, 1950. Wittgenstein Conversations, 1949-1951. [BACK]

Note 2: "But there can be nothing more real, more certain -- I can have no deeper conviction, than that I have a headache!" That is what we want to say, but it a grammatical misunderstanding. That I have a sensation is neither certain nor uncertain; it has nothing to do with knowledge, belief, or conviction. I simply have it or I don't -- i.e. that is as far as its grammar goes: there are no further defined moves in this particular language game.

Pain and shamming pain

"But you will surely admit that there is a difference between pain-behavior accompanied by pain and pain-behavior without any pain?" -- Admit it? What greater difference could there be? -- "And yet you again and again reach the conclusion that the sensation itself is a nothing." -- Not at all. It is not a something, but not a nothing either! The conclusion was only that a nothing would serve just as well as a something about which nothing could be said. We have only rejected the grammar which tries to force itself on us here. (PI § 304)

Look at sensation-words as tools that human beings use to do some work or other in our life (ibid. §§ 421, 360), work which is not necessarily to serve as the names of things (ibid. § 43). "The meaning of a word is the thing the word names" is a false description of the logic (or grammar or meaning) of our language. If I see my friend and call out "Hello!" to him -- what is the thing the word 'hello' names? What thing does the word 'ouch' name? [BACK]

Note 3: In the The Island of Dr. Moreau, H.G. Wells imagined the reversion of his vivisection-made beast-men to their original state as animals.

Can you imagine language, once clear-cut and exact, softening and guttering, losing shape and import, becoming mere lumps of sound again? (xxi)

In the story the meaning is gradually lost until all that remains is the bare sign (the sound). In the reversion, crying would replace the verbal expression (PI § 244), e.g. the expression 'My tooth hurts' would be replaced by crying as the linguistic expression lost its meaning.

As an example of "language replacing primitive behavior", it can be remarked that a child even learns the linguistic sign for expressing a sharp pain: for an English child exclaims 'ouch!' whereas an Italian child exclaims 'Ahi!' The cry of pain is involuntary, but the sound of that cry is not innate: the sound is learned behavior (or it would be the same in all languages, and indeed would not be part of language, as e.g. a sigh is not). [BACK]

Note 4: Wittgenstein to Bouwsma. Wittgenstein Conversations, 1949-1951, September 16, 1950. [BACK]

Note 5: Words are tools, but sometimes they are like blunt instruments and must be refined = revised if useful work is to be done with them, and that is why I have revised the limits of the grammar of the word 'concept' as I have. (In normal usage sometimes 'concept' = 'common name', but more often it is synonymous with 'idea' or 'abstraction'.)

The word 'concept' is too vague by far. (RFM vii § 45, p. 412)

It is "a handmaid of all work" word, and what work, if any, it is being used to do isn't always clear. For the purposes of any particular investigation, the everyday tool 'concept' may serve as it is (cf. 'notion', 'idea'), but in other investigations we may need to "further determine its grammar" (i.e. make a rule, assign a meaning to the word 'concept'). [BACK]

Note 6: All these double quotes mean: we think we know what we mean by these signs. 'Inner' here does not mean inside the body, otherwise cutting open the body would reveal what we are referring to.

"If you know what 'inside' and 'outside' a chalk circle means, then you must know what 'inside' and 'outside' the mind means." -- A grammatical analogy (a picture or rule) is suggested to us, but we are not told how to follow the analogy (apply the picture or rule) in this context. Here the analogy both misrepresents and misleads (Malcolm, Memoir 2e, p. 46). [BACK]

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