In reading the forum, I have repeatedly seen arguments with significant implications based primarily on very personal close readings and parsing of specific words. Several times, I have noted only that language is complicated. Simply acknowledging that fact would likely cut short many of the protracted discussions on the forum.
The written/printed word is particularly troublesome as it at best implies various additional clues in regard to tone and lacks visual clues that can all go along to help with the process of making words into meaning. For ancient authors, we do not have video, so we will have to make do with their words inscribed in whatever way they have come down to us. The process is even more complicated when we are dealing with translations rather than the language of the original text. Even with original languages, meaning frequently shifts over time, making an evasive context of utmost importance. At one time, the English word “hussy” simply meant “housewife,” but I recommend that you not use that word to describe any women of your acquaintance. (Of course, they might also take offense at being called a “housewife.”) In the 18th century, calling someone an “enthusiast” or saying that they were “enthusiastic” was a very negative accusation. It meant that someone’s sense was carried away by other forces, or that they were dabbling in matters well beyond their actual knowledge or expertise. Today, it has morphed into something that is vaguely positive in connotation.
The philosopher who dealt most consistently with the tenuous connection between language and meaning was Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951). Somewhat oversimplified, his position was that many disagreements over ideas were not so much over the ideas themselves but how they were being expressed and interpreted. He often noted that meaning required the public words provided and a more hidden private context. There is, of course, a large body of shared experience that makes general communication with words possible, but the further we move from this shared context, the more problems we encounter. And similarly, the more complex the idea being expressed, the greater likelihood that problems will appear. These facts are especially unavoidable for authors who not only cannot be asked questions to clarify their intended meaning, but who lived so long ago that their context was very different from ours, and not always easy to recreate sufficiently to replace what is missing.
All of this is made even worse when the person expressing the original idea does so carelessly, which is often the case. Wittgenstein’s early ideas about language were too tied to the concept of “pictures” as establishing meaning, and later, his terminology of “games” was demonstrably problematic for expressing the complex idea he was going after, but the concepts are still valuable. (He also does not really deal with intentional attempts to mislead with language.) His basic principle is that someone has a thought, and in deciding to put that thought down in writing (or in speaking), it must be translated into this somewhat evasive tool of language. Then, a reader (or listener) comes along and has to translate those words back into a thought. How much resemblance that final thought has to the original thought is the question.
There is another whole school that deals with the question of how much converting an abstract idea to concrete language alters that original idea. And more questions as whether or not language is actually a manifestation of consciousness.
I give all of this merely as a cautionary warning about going too far down rabbit holes of personal meaning, especially in dealing with translations and ancient texts.
JAS said
In reading the forum, I have repeatedly seen arguments with significant implications based primarily on very personal close readings and parsing of specific words. Several times, I have noted only that language is complicated. Simply acknowledging that fact would likely cut short many of the protracted discussions on the forum.The written/printed word is particularly troublesome as it at best implies various additional clues in regard to tone and lacks visual clues that can all go along to help with the process of making words into meaning. For ancient authors, we do not have video, so we will have to make do with their words inscribed in whatever way they have come down to us. The process is even more complicated when we are dealing with translations rather than the language of the original text. Even with original languages, meaning frequently shifts over time, making an evasive context of utmost importance. At one time, the English word “hussy” simply meant “housewife,” but I recommend that you not use that word to describe any women of your acquaintance. (Of course, they might also take offense at being called a “housewife.”) In the 18th century, calling someone an “enthusiast” or saying that they were “enthusiastic” was a very negative accusation. It meant that someone’s sense was carried away by other forces, or that they were dabbling in matters well beyond their actual knowledge or expertise. Today, it has morphed into something that is vaguely positive in connotation.
The philosopher who dealt most consistently with the tenuous connection between language and meaning was Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951). Somewhat oversimplified, his position was that many disagreements over ideas were not so much over the ideas themselves but how they were being expressed and interpreted. He often noted that meaning required the public words provided and a more hidden private context. There is, of course, a large body of shared experience that makes general communication with words possible, but the further we move from this shared context, the more problems we encounter. And similarly, the more complex the idea being expressed, the greater likelihood that problems will appear. These facts are especially unavoidable for authors who not only cannot be asked questions to clarify their intended meaning, but who lived so long ago that their context was very different from ours, and not always easy to recreate sufficiently to replace what is missing.
All of this is made even worse when the person expressing the original idea does so carelessly, which is often the case. Wittgenstein’s early ideas about language were too tied to the concept of “pictures” as establishing meaning, and later, his terminology of “games” was demonstrably problematic for expressing the complex idea he was going after, but the concepts are still valuable. (He also does not really deal with intentional attempts to mislead with language.) His basic principle is that someone has a thought, and in deciding to put that thought down in writing (or in speaking), it must be translated into this somewhat evasive tool of language. Then, a reader (or listener) comes along and has to translate those words back into a thought. How much resemblance that final thought has to the original thought is the question.
There is another whole school that deals with the question of how much converting an abstract idea to concrete language alters that original idea. And more questions as whether or not language is actually a manifestation of consciousness.
I give all of this merely as a cautionary warning about going too far down rabbit holes of personal meaning, especially in dealing with translations and ancient texts.
Good stuff. Reminded me of an old Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. quote that I had to look up to get right: “A word is not crystal, transparent and unchanging; it is the skin of a living thought and may vary greatly in color and content according to the circumstance and the time in which it is used.”
“One can forgive many Germans, but there are some Germans it is difficult to forgive. It is difficult to forgive Heidegger.”
And that’s because of all people he should have known better. But whose hands are clean? Consider Nathaniel Hawthorne, who wrote one of the great books in American literature, The Scarlet Letter, who nevertheless on the the most important social issue of his day got it completely wrong. He owned no slaves but was an anti-abolitionist. We are faced with an awful mystery. How could someone with enough sensitivity and insight to create a luminous character like Hester Prynne be so blind?
Wittgenstein’s point was that words don’t have intrinsic meanings they have usages. (This goes against centuries of venerable essentialist western philosophy. No wonder many continental philosophers act as if he is the antichrist.) I think his “games” metaphor is perfect. Outside of its context the rules of chess are not laws of the universe, they can be said to be arbitrary. Within its context those who play the “game” have a basis to judge its success or failure. Contemporary religious thinkers are not unmindful of this approach.
If you want to know about “nothingness” don’t waste your time with western philosophers. You want ** you do not have permission to see this link **.
Stephen said
“One can forgive many Germans, but there are some Germans it is difficult to forgive. It is difficult to forgive Heidegger.”And that’s because of all people he should have known better. But whose hands are clean? Consider Nathaniel Hawthorne, who wrote one of the great books in American literature, The Scarlet Letter, who nevertheless on the the most important social issue of his day got it completely wrong. He owned no slaves but was an anti-abolitionist. We are faced with an awful mystery. How could someone with enough sensitivity and insight to create a luminous character like Hester Prynne be so blind?
Wittgenstein’s point was that words don’t have intrinsic meanings they have usages. (This goes against centuries of venerable essentialist western philosophy. No wonder many continental philosophers act as if he is the antichrist.) I think his “games” metaphor is perfect. Outside of its context the rules of chess are not laws of the universe, they can be said to be arbitrary. Within its context those who play the “game” have a basis to judge its success or failure. Contemporary religious thinkers are not unmindful of this approach.
If you want to know about “nothingness” don’t waste your time with western philosophers. You want ** you do not have permission to see this link **.
For Hawthorne, there were many who opposed slavery who also disliked the abolitionists, because they saw the abolitionists as extremists and agitators who were creating problems or making problems worse rather than solving them. (I am not saying that this view was correct, but remember that abolitionists included people like John Brown, who was a divisive figure even among the abolitionists.)
Wittgenstein’s use of the term “games” works somewhat within the metaphor, and I do not have a better replacement term, but without constantly having to explain how he means the word in ways that are different from the general usage just demonstrates much of the problem with words that he was using the term to describe. If nothing else, the term is saddled with an impression of playing when so much of the trouble is that people are being very serious in their personal choices for meaning, and thus are not really intentionally “playing” at all. I prefer to think of it as “personal context” but that probably isn’t pithy or catchy enough and to be at least moderately successful at communication, the ability to achieve that basic shared level of understanding has to be more than merely personal, but here I necessarily enter the discussion of how that all seems to work and not work. Other than these minor points, I don’t think we are really disagreeing here . . . after all, it is only a game.
Makes one wonder what moral issues we may be blind to today.
Exactly. We don’t have to excuse our ancestors but perhaps we need to be pitiful to them as we hope our descendants will be pitiful to us.
Did Wittgenstein use the specific metaphor of chess?
Yes he frequently used the rules of chess to illustrate what he called “language games”. I hasten to point out that these games may seem arbitrary outside their context but they are anything but arbitrary. As W also pointed out the rules of chess weren’t invented by some guy with a pencil and a blank sheet of paper. The were formed by a process that takes into account the shape of the board, the physical characteristics of the pieces and even the history of warfare. This mitigates against the idea that the “games” metaphor is silly or trivial. Only someone not playing a game thinks so.
As to Hawthorne, I’m afraid it wasn’t simply the excesses of abolitionists that disturbed him. He had the prejudice of many otherwise “enlightened” thinkers of his day. While he personally opposed the institution of slavery he thought black folks just weren’t capable of participating in modern civilization. Too “primitive”. If they were set free without supervision it would cause a disaster. Actually many abolitionists expressed the same views. This is why there was such an impetus for repatriation.
Of course by modern standards, Hawthorne would be considered a racist. My comment was only meant to explain a reasonable negative impression of abolitionists. The same question has plagued studies about Edgar Allan Poe, a rough contemporary, although there are mostly vague references to race, and no clear impression of Poe’s views on slavery. (“The Gold Bug” is the main tale, where Jupiter is a manumitted slave who remains voluntarily with his master, clearly a kind of plantation master’s fantasy of the relationship. And there are villainous black natives in Pym. Much of the meaning of these elements are mostly in the interpretation. Poe also dismisses J. R. Lowell as a “ranting abolitionist,” a phrase that is also subject to interpretation, as I have already indicated.) Terrance Whalen (in Poe and the Masses) makes perhaps the most insightful study in a chapter in which he says that Poe had “average racism,” meaning for his time. It may be sad to see people that we may admire in some ways, fall so short of our esteem in others, but they were merely human beings after all, and we should be careful about being too harsh in our judgement unless we are sure that the distant future will see us as so purely virtuous. We might mostly be fortunate that they will not think of us at all.
Wittgenstein’s use of the term “games,” at least often given the slightly more useful designation of “language games,” is more or less useful in the way the Wittgenstein explains his ideas, but used in summary, and away from that complicated explanation, common usage of the word loses this special context and the meaning. I see it as, ironically, a perfect example of the problem he was seeking to explain, which is not to say that it is a perfect term for the need. I prefer not to belabor the point too much mostly because the term and concept have become established in the studies inspired by Wittgenstein’s theories, and I don’t have a better suggestion. But to refuse to admit that the term is also problematic is much like the movement “Defund the Police,” which must constantly explain that its name, which consistently tests very poorly, does not really mean that it wishes to do what any reasonable person would assume based on that name.
Most games, such as chess, are also bound by physical elements (pieces, boards, etc) by which words are not so constrained. The use of words may only be constrained by the need to find agreement with other readers/hearers, and that may alter words somewhat from commonly accepted meanings, but must rely on some level of that common aspect to have any hope of extending or altering the meaning. Otherwise, words would inevitably be little more than gibberish.
I think that the “games” idea mostly works in the explanation of how people often learn to play a game. There may be rules, which a person may or may not read or study in detail, but mostly people learn by observation, action, and instruction. Beyond the basic rules, strategy tends to be learned by trial and error (and, of course success). It is really in understanding the strategy for playing a game, within the rules, but more than the rules, that the meaning of the game is understood.
It would be no surprise that you are confused. That is a review of a book by someone who is making a complicated argument about his interpretation of the complicated arguments of two other people. It is so many layers removed from the original ideas that one can only wonder how much is left of that original idea.
…the studies inspired by Wittgenstein’s theories…
Alas, the Wittgenstein industry rivals the Joyce industry. The difference is that Joyce was an egomaniac who expected deference and worship as his due. By all accounts Wittgenstein was a humble man who gave away his portion of an immense family fortune to go be a schoolteacher in a small town in Norway. I revere Wittgenstein because he freed me – from philosophy. I may be fooling myself but I think I get his point. A point most of his disciples resolutely refuse to get simply because it undermines their entire project. For me western analytic philosophy provides a methodology to discipline our thinking rather than some totalizing view of the world. I would describe myself as a naive realist – with the emphasis on the naive. What you see is what you get. The mystery is that there is no mystery. After a lifetime of reading reams of philosophy and theology in search of hidden wisdom I now subscribe to the most venerable philosophy of all – eat drink and be merry for tomorrow you die.
Stephen said
…the studies inspired by Wittgenstein’s theories…What you see is what you get. The mystery is that there is no mystery. After a lifetime of reading reams of philosophy and theology in search of hidden wisdom I now subscribe to the most venerable philosophy of all – eat drink and be merry for tomorrow you die.
Could that possibly be true of you, Stephen? If so, it’s astounding to me. Having followed you and Robert for such a long time now, it’s dismaying as it goes against everything I’ve come to think about you. I’m not one of you, capable of giving persuasive debate points for why I believe mystery abounds everywhere and that everything we do and say matters, like ripples in a pool. If there comes a time we can see clearly (as Paul says), will we be amazed at the ways we influenced others and the world around us while at the same time shocked by all the opportunities we missed?
Perhaps I’m acutely aware that we do indeed influence others without being aware that we do because of a gift for my last birthday. My sister and son invited all the significant people who knew me to write letters about what I had meant to them. I had no idea I’d ever influenced anyone ever! If only each person could have such a gift, especially you, Stephen. Then you would know “eat drink and be merry” pales in comparison to doing all the good we can for everyone we can.
Stephen said
. . . I now subscribe to the most venerable philosophy of all – eat drink and be merry for tomorrow you die.
Unfortunately, that is really a terrible philosophy for living. I prefer something more sober, perhaps like:
Consume not your todays preparing for a tomorrow that may never arrive — but waste not your todays such that if tomorrow does come, it can bring only grief, misery and sorrow.
(Okay, that is much too long for a T-shirt)
Judith I realize my point of view can easily be caricatured as a call to a silly, shallow, dissolute life. Especially in a Puritanical culture that fetishizes pointless suffering. What task is harder to master than to learn to see what is right in front of your face? What counsel is more profound than to realize the evanescence of life and to take your joys where you find them? What approach stimulates more compassion and sympathy than to realize that all must meet the same fate? Life is not a test to be graded much less a disease to be cured. Certainly there are no secrets known only to priests or swamis (available for sale in the lobby). We must sacrifice our sacrifices – not our joys.
Could one say that Wittgenstein linguisticized the philosophical term ‘being’, just as Heidegger historicized (and localized) ‘being’?
Robert I’m not sure what you’re asking. The only instance I am aware of where Wittgenstein directly refers to Heidegger is from a letter written in 1929 –
I can very well think what Heidegger meant about Being [sein] and Angst. Man has the drive to run up against the boundaries of language. Think, for instance, of the astonishment that anything exists [das etwas existiert]. This astonishment cannot be expressed in the form of a question, and there is also no answer to it. All that we can say can only, a priori, be nonsense. Nevertheless we run up against the boundaries of language.
Kierkegaard also saw this running-up and similarly pointed it out (as running up against the paradox). This running up against the boundaries of language is Ethics.
I hold it certainly to be very important that one makes an end to all the chatter about ethics – whether there can be knowledge in ethics, whether there are values [ob es Werte gebe] , whether the Good can be defined, etc.
In ethics one always makes the attempt to say something which cannot concern and never concerns the essence of the matter. It is a priori certain: whatever one may give as a definition of the Good – it is always only a misunderstanding to suppose that the expression corresponds to what one actually means (Moore). But the tendency to run up against shows something. The holy Augustine already knew this when he said: “What, you scoundrel, you would speak no nonsense? Go ahead and speak nonsense – it doesn’t matter!”
This sounds a little too much like Joseph Campbell’s “follow your bliss,” which never really works for anyone but madmen. The key to almost everything is balance. It may be hard to see, and harder to achieve just the optimum balance, but everything else results only in excess and misery. The trick is not just to find and savor joy where you can, but to do so without creating misery elsewhere, for yourself and others. And now, I have not mastered that trick.
BDEhrman
FreedomBen
evgendob
Robert