Introduction.
Linguistic philosophy is rumored to be dead and gone, its passing unnoticed until long after the fact, and largely unmourned. Gilbert Harman, for one, places its demise well into the past, referring to ". . . the arguments that undermined [note the past tense] the old linguistic philosophy and dating its end two decades ago, in 1960. According to him, "The period of linguistic philosophy . . . [ran] from 1930-1960", after which philosophers came ". . . to believe again that philosophy need not be restricted to, the analysis of language". This change of conviction at least partly resulted, he suggests, from arguments by Willard Quine and others which showed ". . . that there can be no real separation between questions of substance and questions of meaning".1
One might suspect, however, that the matter is not so clear as such statements would make it seem. Some even respond by saying that there never was such a thing as "linguistic philosophy" anyway. But, while this denial doubtlessly makes all important point, surely there did exist for some decades a discernible philosophical tendency which it is not entirely unuseful or misleading so to designate. And, just as surely, something of the practice of that movement still persists, even though its major dogmas are long abandoned. At least one can confidently say that no clear substitute for language, as the primary subject matter of philosophical analysis and speculation, has emerged. Quine himself, whose arguments are alleged to have helped undermine linguistic philosophy, continued to assign "semantic ascent" an important, if not essential, role in philosophical discussion. And no less than a few years ago, human knowledge—which remains the focus, more than anything else, of philosophical analysis—was usually treated as something essentially linguistic: possibly a "fabric of sentences".
However, what most obviously seems in need of resistance is any suggestion to the effect that linguistic philosophy was done away with by means of arguments that showed it to be in some way fundamentally mistaken. The arguments to which Harmon refers above in fact appeared as arguments within the genre favored by linguistic philosophy. They certainly did not have the force of negating the Linguistic Turn in general, but at most that of showing that it must be taken only in a certain manner—which we may loosely call tile "pragmatic". G. J. Warnock's words about the fall of Idealism, earlier in this Century, seem a fair characterization of what happened to linguistic philosophy:
<277> Such systems are more vulnerable to ennui than to disproof. They are citadels, much shot at perhaps, but never taken by storm, which are quietly discovered one day to be no longer inhabited. The way in which an influential philosopher may undermine the empire of his predecessors consists, one may say, chiefly in his providing his contemporaries with other interests.2
But this sort of explanation leaves us with the question of whether or not there really was something fundamentally mistaken in "the old linguistic philosophy". If not, then the turn away from it is something which ought to be resisted. But, if so, then to make clear its error will fortify our bored declension with some good reasons. In order to make the issue manageable, I shall focus upon one of the less radical versions of the Linguistic Turn: Quine's method of semantic ascent. Semantic ascent, as Quine understands it, does indeed fail as a general methodological device for philosophy; and—although I shall not argue this point here--the reason why it fails seems also to apply to the other interesting versions of the Linguistic Turn which were exemplified in the career of linguistic philosophy.
2. The main assumption of semantic ascent. Semantic ascent is a methodological strategy in philosophy in which one turns (or "ascends") from speaking—or attempting to speak--of certain apparently non-linguistic matters to speaking of correlated entities, events, or structures that are constituents of language, or are in some sense linguistic. Typically, one turns to talking of correlated words or sentences. Quine remarks:
It [semantic ascent] is the shift from talk of miles to talk of 'mile', it is what leads from the material (inhaltlich) mode into the formal mode, to invoke an old terminology of Carnap's. It is the shift from talking in certain terms to talking about them . . . .3
The point of semantic ascent, for Quine, is to allow those who use philosophically interesting terms or locutions differently—and who, therefore, cannot use them in discussions with each other without confusion and begging of questions at issue--to withdraw from the use to the mention of the terms and locutions in question, there to find a common conceptual ground. Thus Quine says:
The strategy of semantic ascent is that it carries the discussion into a domain where both parties are better agreed on the objects (viz. words) and on the main terms concerning them. Words, or their inscriptions, unlike points, miles, classes, and the rest, are tangible objects of the size so popular in the market place, where men of unlike conceptual schemes <278> communicate at their best. The strategy is one of ascending to a common part of two fundamentally disparate conceptual schemes, the better to discuss the disparate foundations. No wonder it helps in philosophy.4
And discussing, in this same passage, the transition from an allegedly hopeless discussion about whether miles exist to a discussion about the uses of the word "mile", Quine concludes that "...then we can get on; we are no longer caught in the toils of our opposed uses".
Clearly the assumption of semantic ascent in Quine's hands is, then, that when philosophical disputants use the appropriate names of words or sentences to mention the words or sentences in question—and when they use the related terms and conceptual apparatus required to formulate statements or sentences about those words or sentences-differing philosophical viewpoints or theories of the disputants will not be presupposed, or will be presupposed to a significantly smaller degree. To repeat the crucial phraseology: "Both parties are better agreed on the objects (viz. words) and on the main terms concerning them." But is this in general true? Can't it be shown false in significant cases? If so, we well may have found a reason why semantic ascent must fail as a general philosophical strategy. Although it may sometimes be innocent and useful, there will be at least some, and possibly many, important philosophical discussions in which semantic ascent will not help, and may indeed be harmful, because of opposed philosophical views precisely concerning words, sentences, or other linguistic items or structures mentioned in making the ascent.
3. Apologia for McX. Consider Quine's encounter with the fabulous McX. Quine purports to have used the method successfully with McX. But McX, being fabulous, has of course been in no position to talk back.
The initial difficulty between Quine and McX arises when they wish to disagree about the existence of something such as Pegasus. Since McX believes that in some sense Pegasus exists, he, at least, can consistently state that there is an entity which Quine rejects. But Quine, it might seem, cannot say this, precisely because he rejects Pegasus as an entity.5 As Quine states the point:
If Pegasus were not, McX argues, we should not be talking about anything when we use the word; therefore it would be nonsense to say even that Pegasus is not. Thinking to show thus that the denial of Pegasus cannot be coherently maintained, he [McX] concludes that Pegasus is. (p. 2)
The problem, then, is to get around the initial divergence in theory which determines how the crucial terms are used, and to find a common ground from which to start. Semantic ascent is supposed to accomplish this, and <279> there is no question but that Quine Supposes that he has used semantic ascent with McX to achieve this end. Turning from Pegasus, he deals with "Pegasus". On page sixteen of "On What There Is", he states that, as a result of operating on a semantical plane", he is able consistently to
...describe our disagreement by characterizing the statements which McX affirms Provided merely that my ontology countenances linguistic forms, or at least concrete inscriptions and utterances, I call talk about McX's sentences.
He holds, then, that "withdrawing to a semantical plane" allows him "to find a common ground on which to argue" with McX.
Disagreement in ontology involves basic disagreement in conceptual schemes; yet McX and I, despite these basic disagreements, find that our conceptual schemes converge sufficiently in their intermediate and upper ramifications to enable us to communicate successfully on such topics as politics, weather, and, in particular, language. In so far as our basic controversy over ontology can be translated upward into a semantical controversy about words and what to do with them, the collapse of the controversy into question-begging may be delayed. (loc. cit.)
But when we look at what Quine actually did with McX, we find that he simply attacked McX's position (or analysis or theory) concerning meaningful names. Specifically, he argues against McX's (alleged) view that "...Pegasus...must be because otherwise it would be nonsense to say even that he is not". He retreats, not from philosophically contested points to philosophically neutral ground, but from philosophically contested points about what exists to philosophically contested points about the nature and function of names. One will surely search in vain for passages in which Quine and McX "... communicate successfully on such topics as ... language".
And what, if there were such a passage, might we safely imagine it to contain? Certainly only such philosophically neutral and uninteresting things—truly on a par with talk of politics and the weather—as that "Pegasus" has seven letters in it, is to be found in black on this page, occurs in some (English) books on mythology, functions grammatically as a noun etc. etc. But even these modest statements may quickly raise questions that are philosophically debatable and debated. For example, how can "Pegasus" both be on this page and also in books on mythology? The type/token distinction is often invoked at this point. But it in fact cannot be invoked if we are to remain at the level of unquestionably "successful communication". As we shall discuss below in more detail, there is much disagreement, and possibly confusion also, among philosophers on what, precisely, the type/token distinction is as applied to "words"; and the drawing of it by a given philosopher normally pulls a considerable load of ontological freight. Very little <280> indeed can be said of "words" that is philosophically clear and uncommitted from the outset.
In fact, when Quine says (above) that he can consistently describe his disagreement with McX by "characterizing the statements which McX affirms", one can only wish him well on getting a characterization of McX's statements which will not, beg other ontological or philosophical points against McX, concerning the nature of statements themselves. Quine even seems to use, "statement" and "sentence" interchangeably in this passage (p. 16). After speaking of characterizing statements, the next sentence reads: "Provided merely that my ontology countenances linguistic forms, or at least concrete inscriptions and utterances, I can talk about McX's sentences." Statements, sentences, and concrete inscriptions and utterances! Thus quickly has semantic ascent led us into an ontological briar patch! And, given what we already know of McX's philosophical proclivities, it is at least a fair bet that he will not take his sentences to be concrete inscriptions or utterances, nor his statements to be sentences, and will insist that the discussion was, in any case, supposed to be about the ontological assumptions of using "Pegasus" in a linguistic act of saying that Pegasus does not exist.6
When we then come to Quine's explicit attempt to "take steps" against McX's position, we find that he merely begs the question against him. Quine proposes that we can "...meaningfully use seeming names without supposing that there be the entities allegedly named" by following Russell's theory of descriptions, and treating the sentences in which the names occur as equivalent to certain compound sentences in which the names do not occur. But McX might—and if he is a hard-nosed philosopher, probably he would—simply reply that if the meaningful use of the compound sentence does not imply the existence of what was named in the use of the original sentence, then the paraphrase is not equivalent to that original sentence after all. He well might respond: "To say that, upon substitution of the paraphrase for the original sentence, the meaningful use of the original is shown not to imply the existence of what was named in that use, is like saying that strychnine is not poisonous when sugar is substituted for it." Quine has his way here with McX only by presupposing McX's consent to a broad swatch of a particular philosophy of language that by no means consists of, or follows from, simple observations about those "...tangible objects [words] of the size so popular in the market place, where men of unlike conceptual schemes communicate at their best".
<281>It must be emphasized that the point here has nothing to do with who is right or wrong in this dispute about the analysis of names. Specifically, it is not claimed that McX's views are correct. Rather, the point is that, in this case of the quarrel with McX, semantic ascent does not provide a domain in which philosophical disputants can agree, or at least disagree in a manner which does not force the begging of philosophically significant questions or outright inconsistency.
It should also be emphasized that semantic ascent does have the advantage of locating premisses from which ontological conclusions are frequently drawn. In the case at hand, it allows us to see that McX rests his case upon what others well may regard as a wholly gratuitous theory about the use of names. He can no longer, given semantic ascent, hope simply to use his favorite argument upon Quine.7 But the difficulty of finding a common conceptual ground upon which the ensuing disagreement, now within the philosophy of language, can be conducted falls heavily upon the parties involved. The function of securing a common conceptual ground was supposed to have been served by semantic ascent into metalanguage. This ascent has failed in this respect in this case. Further ascents, into meta-meta-etc-languages do not obviously offer promise of help where the help is needed, It may even, with some justification, be thought that several decades of work by those who have taken the linguistic turn seriously shows that it is rare to find shared, wide-ranging conceptual commitments in the remarks of those who have semantically ascended. (Are not Wittgenstein and Carnap, John Wisdom and Gustav Bergmann only by courtesy or confusion said to have been talking about the same thing?) And insofar as in our metalanguage we are still "speaking of objects", Quine would be the very first to deny that semantic ascent will free us from ontological presumption. At most we can hope that the one we are trying to talk to is equivalently presumptuous—is ontologically relativized to the same reference points—as we now discuss words and language.
However, it is seldom clear, in Quine's writings, just when he supposes he is standing within the domain of that successful, non-partisan communication allegedly provided by discourse about words, and when he regards himself as having moved beyond that, into the domain where philosophical and other theories about words (and, more generally, about language) govern the discussion. One clearly should not assume that all of his remarks about language are intended by him to be of the former sort. Yet it does seem that, when Quine is speaking to some philosophical problem, almost nothing of importance that he says about words or language is philosophically unprejudiced, or free from some thoroughly philosophized conceptual scheme. Thus,
poor McX comes in for a beating because of "...the occult entities [attributes] which he posits under such names as 'redness'". (p. 10) Quine admits, of course, that there are red houses, roses, and sunsets, but denies <282> that things such as these have anything in common which would constitute the attribute of redness. Using, we may suppose, the same tone in which he discusses politics and the weather, he remarks:
The words 'houses', 'roses', and 'sunsets' are true of sundry individual entities which are houses and roses and sunsets; but there is not, in addition, any entity whatever, individual or otherwise, which is named by the word 'redness', nor, for that matter, by the word 'househood', 'rosehood', 'sunsethood'. (loc. cit.)
Certainly if Quine intended this to be one of those statements "...where both parties are better agreed on the objects (words) and on the main terms concerning them", he has not succeeded with his intention. For just what is involved in the word "red" being true of each of the sundry individuals that are red is both puzzling and highly contestable. Consider only those problems involved in the choice between substitutional and objectual interpretations of quantification. And again, "the word 'red'" certainly cannot just refer to the particular inscription which Quine produced when he wrote these lines decades ago, and which probably no longer exists. If it has ceased to exist, the word "red" doubtlessly would still be regarded by Quine as "true of" all of the various red things. But the word "red" then is certainly some sort of abstract entity;8 and its status as something different from any of "its" concrete inscriptions or utterances, and actually extending to (being "true of") all and only red things (members of its extension), is perhaps at least no less occult than McX's attributes.
Questions about, and theories of, the unity and character of the term "red" itself aside, one should at least expect McX to reply that to postulate the extending of "red" to (or its being "true of") certain objects alone, without an attribute—present in just those objects and no others—to guide its "reach", is merely to assume that his own view of the extension of a term is false. For him, the extension of a term clearly is not something intrinsically intelligible and philosophically innocent. Semantic ascent, once again, only brings Quine and McX from one philosophical standoff (over the existence of attributes) to another (over what it is for "a word" to be "true of" a certain range of objects).
But enough of McX! Can we make any general statements on what it is about language (or "words") that makes semantic ascent an attractive strategy in philosophy, and yet does not allow it to succeed?
4. Token, tone, and type. The trouble seems to lies in the fact that "words" lead at least a double life. This is something which seems to be generally understood, although its implications for the practice of semantic ascent have not been fully appreciated. Insofar as philosophically and theoretically <283> innocent discourse about words is a significant possibility, it will mainly apply to what Peirce called "tokens". The word as token is an individual physical entity or event, publicly observable, which can be written, spoken, erased, heard, seen, misspelled, or eaten (on birthday cakes or dangerous notes). It can be loud, soft, black, white, located in the corner of the blackboard, and so on. Because tokens really are "...tangible objects of the size so popular in the market place", statements mainly about them--or straightforwardly verifiable by reference to them--do indeed enter into communication on a par, for philosophical neutrality, with talk about politics and the weather. And hence one can readily see how a clarity-hungry philosopher might be drawn to talk of "words". Carnap, at one time, was a case in point. He once held that the sentences of philosophy
