LOGIC AND Enncs

Nijhoff International Philosophy Series

VOLUME 41

General Editor: JAN T. J. SRZEDNICKI

Editor for volumes on Applying Philosophy: LYNNE M. BROUGHTON
Editor for volumes on Logic and Applying Logic: STANISLAW J. SURMA
Editor for volumes on Contributions to Philosophy: JAN T. J. SRZEDNICKI
Assistant to the General Editor: DAVID WOOD

Editorial Advisory Board:

R.M. Chisholm (Brown University. Rhode Island); Mats Furberg (Goteborg Univer-
sity); D.A.T. Gasking (University of Melbourne); H.L.A. Hart (University College.
Oxford); S. Komer (University of Bristol and Yale University); H.J. McCloskey (La
Trobe University. Bundoora. Melbourne); J. Passmore (Australian National Univer-
sity. Canberra); A. Quinton (Trinity College. Oxford); Nathan Rotenstreich (The
Hebrew University . Jerusalem); Franco Spisani (Centro Superiore di Logica e Scienze
Comparate. Bologna); R. Ziedins (Waikato University. New Zealand)

The titles published in this series are listed at the end of this volume.
Logic and Ethics

edited by

PeterGeach

with the editorial assistance of

Jacek Holowka

SPRINGER SCIENCE+BUSINESS MEDIA, B.V.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Logic and ethics / edited by Peter Geach, with the editorial

asslstance of Jacek Holowka.
p. cm. -- (Nijhoff international philosophy series ; v. 41>
Includeslndex.
ISBN 978-94-010-5481-2 ISBN 978-94-011-3352-4 (eBook)
DOI 10.1007/978-94-011-3352-4
1. Logic. 2. Ethics. 1. Geach, F. T. (Peter Thomas), 1916-
II. Ho{âwka, Jacek. III. Ser ies.
BC55.L54 1990
160--dc20 90-20243

ISBN 978-94-010-5481-2

Printed on acid-free paper

AII Rights Reserved

© 1991 Springer Science+Business Media Dordrecht
Originally published by Kluwer Academic Publishers in 1991
Softcover reprint ofthe hardcover Ist edition 1991
No part of the material protected by this copyright notice may be reproduced or
utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
incJuding photocopying, recording or by any information storage and
retrieval system, without written permission from the copyright owner.
 CONTENTS

1. Ethics and the Limits of Consistency 1

R. Bambrough
2. Negative Values 21
H. Elzenberg
3. Whatever Happened to Deontic Logic 33
P.T. Geach
4. The Ethical Root of Language 49
M. C. Gormally
5. The Principle of Transcendence and 71
the Foundation of Axiology
A. Grzegorczyk
6. Deontic Logic and Imperative Logic 79
J. Harrison
7. Against Tolerating the Intolerable 131
J. Jackson
8. Winning Against and With the Opponent 145
J. Holowka
9. Meaning-Norms and Objectivity 167
J. Jack
10. On the Logic of Practical Evaluation 199
S. Korner
vi

11. The Deductive Model in Ethics 225

1. Lazari-Pawlowska
12. Truth-Value of Ethical Statements: 241
Some Philosophical Implications of the
Model-Theoretic Defintion of Truth
M. Przelecki
13. On Subjective Appreciation of Objective 255
Moral Points
J. Srzednicki
14. On Fair Distribution of Indivisible Goods 275
K. Szaniawski
15. Needs and Values 289
B. Wolniewicz

Index 303
 NOTE FROM THE SERIES EDITOR

This volume is to a large extent the result of the invitation for a term as
visiting professor at the University of Warsaw that Geach accepted in the
year 1985.
During this period Geach initiated a number of discussions on the subject
of Logic and Ethics, and it became apparent that a number of philosophers
both in Poland and in the United Kingdom were working in this area. Thus
the idea of a collective volume came into being. This became one of the
highlights of his visit to Warsaw at that time, and implemented with further
contributions from scholars invited by Geach resulted in the present book.

I.S.
 1

ETHICS AND THE LIMITS OF CONSISTENCY

Renford Bambrough

Walt Whitman contradicted himself, a critic said. Very well

then, Whitman replied, I contradict myself. I am large, I contain
multitudes.
A philosopher faced with Whitman's plea will either take a
tough censorious line or a charitable and pacific one. he may say
that a contradiction is a contradiction and there's an end on't: no
purpose can be served by deliberate contradiction, and the
exposure of a hidden contradiction is a matter for regret and
satisfaction; regret for the error and satisfaction at the oppor-
tunity to correct it by giving up one or other of the conflicting
assertions or implications. But he may say instead that there is
not really a contradiction at all. What Whitman meant was quite
different from what Whitman said, both on the occasion of the
initial complaint and in the brazen reply he now gives.
When we answer 'Yes and no' to a plain question about the
weather or the state of our health or of the stock market we do
not mean to say that the weather or the health of the body or of
the market is good and is also bad, wet and also dry, sick and
also sound, bearish and bullish at the same time and in the same
sense and in the same respect. If necessary - and it is not always

P. Geach (ed.), Logic and Ethics, 1-20.

© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers.
2

necessary - we explain. Gilt-edged are in demand, but equities

are still sliding. The sunshine is welcome, but not the humidity.
My heart is as strong as a horse, but my lumbago won't lie down.
Heraclitus said that we are and are not, that we do and do
not step into the same river twice. He or one of his commentators
explained that what he meant was that over one who is in a river
different and different waters flow. Some philosophers still need
such explanations, even of the plainest paradoxes.
The modes of expression in which we verbally contradict
ourselves without contradicting ourselves are so widespread, and
may operate so subtly, that it is much harder than we often think
to be sure that we are faced with a contradiction. There are the
plain cases, like those where my statement of my total debt is
less or more than the sum of my statements of my particular
debts. There are plain cases at the other end, like those where I
say of a young man that he is an old woman, or of a widow that
she was married to her husband only after he died. But in
between there are all the debatable cases. If I say that a person is
human, do I contradict myself when I add that he is also divine?
Does Hume the backgammon player contradict Hume the
sceptical philosopher? Suppose I conclude and declare that all
human actions are in principle predictable and causally
explicable, do I contradict myself when I add that some are
voluntary and some are not, or when I praise Captain Oates and
revile Corporal Hitler?
Self~ontradictions are only one species of contradictions. We
are more often concerned with conflicts between what you say
and what I say, or between what they say and what we say. And
again there are the plain cases but also the cases in which some
 3

are sure that the two parties are fundamentally opposed while
others are still saying that there is a misunderstanding and they
are only at cross purposes.
Some conflicts are about the nature and incidence of conflict.
Wittgenstein speaks of the superstitious horror of a mathe-
matician in the face of a contradiction. There is a school of para-
consistent logicians. Can we preserve what they mean - even if
not what they say - and still remain convinced that nothing is
both true and false, that reason calls for the resolution of every
contradiction by the rejection of one or more of its elements? In
debating these issues, as in discussing most of the questions of
philosophy and morals and religion, we shall often need to
consider whether what I say is or is not in conflict with what you
say.
There is a story of a woman who kept two pug dogs, Caesar
and Pompey, and said of them: 'Caesar and Pompey are so alike
it's impossible to tell them apart - especially Pompey'. The story
is told as a joke. If the dogs are virtually indistinguishable, how
can it matter which of them is before us - matter, that is, to our
chances of knowing which is which?
But this joke is a good test of a person's attitude to more
important and wider-ranging questions. In the first place, people
divide more or less sharply into those whose reaction goes no
further than to laugh at the joke, and those who go on to wonder
what can have made the woman say what she said. The idea that
the woman was being merely stupid or confused will appeal to
one group more than to the other. The latter will look for a
plausible or at least charitable interpretation of what she said.
A first attempt might be this. Perhaps the only thing that
4

does visibly distinguish Caesar from Pompey is that Caesar is

very slightly darker in one small area of his coat than Pompey is,
and that otherwise they are uniformly coloured. If so, it is easy to
image that the owner of the dogs is more often successful at
recognizing Caesar than at recognizing Pompey. We can give a
satisfactory causal explanation of this difference. The darker
patch operates as a positive ground of discrimination, perhaps
unconsciously, while the negative pole of the same difference is
usually ineffective. (What makes me call the darker patch a
positive feature is that, to however slight a degree, it stands out
from the background.)
After a time the dog-<>wner may learn to make conscious use
of the critical difference when examining either of the pugs to see
which it is. But there may be a case in which she never notices
the ground of her greater success with Caesar than with Pompey.
And then there is the actual case recorded in the story, where she
does notice that she has more success with Caesar, but is
unconscious of and inarticulate about the basis of her success .
The example has further ramifications, and some of them are
of interest, but this outline is sufficient to initiate further
description of the divergence of attitude that I have diagnosed.
One side is confident from the start that the remark makes no
sense. The other is nagged by the thought that an ordinary
sensible woman would not be prompted to make a remark about
an ordinary everyday matter that was simply wild.
Some members of the uncharitable group would be inclined
to use argument for looking no further. 'If A is indistinguishable
from B, then B must be indistinguishable from A'. 'If A is to any
degree difficult to distinguish from B, then it must be the case
 5

that to that same degree B is difficult to distinguish from A. It is

incoherent to suppose otherwise.'
Some of them, and some others, will think that my inter-
pretation of the example succeeds in ascribing a coherent thought
to the woman, but not the thought that she herself had
expressed. Others will accept my account as an intelligible
re-statement of what she did mean and must have meant.
The same lines of division will be seen in any debate about
the meaning and value of proverbs. It is customary, almost to the
extent of itself being part of the proverbial wisdom, to remark
that proverbs conflict too much to be a sensible basis for action
or ground for understanding. Is this a case for looking, not
leaping, or one where to look would be to hesitate, and so in the
short or long run to be lost? Are we too many cooks, helping to
spoil the broth, or many hands making light work?
Again there is a tendency to stop too short, far short of
thinking the matter through. Each of the four proverbs so far
invoked has unquestionable application to many cases. If one is
concerned to remind or inform oneself or another that this
present case is one of those to which it applies, there may be no
better way of doing so than to quote the proverb, and no need to
think of any other and ostensibly conflicting proverb. When two
rival proverbs do apply to the same situation, their rivalry will
be more apparent than real. If I hesitate on the rock while the
tide laps round my feet I may be lost . But I may still remember
to look before I leap up to the flatter, higher rock, nearer inshore,
that is separated from me by a four-foot cleft and its swirling
waters. If you do not give your single mind to the planning of the
party, declining busybody advice from the bystanders, you will
6

not make the most effective use of the many hands available for
chopping and shopping and mixing and carrying.
Philosophers divide on the same lines about what is to be
made of common sense, the common understanding, the
convictions of the plain man, the deliverances of the ordinary
moral consciousness and other sources and vehicles of our
inherited knowledge and beliefs.
Conflict between austere thinkers and ordinary men becomes
acute when, as in the case of Caesar and Pompey, questions of
logic (or of Logic) are at stake. Such austerity is what Walt
Whitman is repudiating when he glories in his contradictions as a
proof that he is large, he contains multitudes. And we may
mediate between the parties by asking whether he does
contradict himself. Can we not do for him what we have been
doing for the owner of Caesar and Pompey, for proverbial
wisdom? Sometimes we can, and sometimes we can do the same
for the plain man's common sense, and even for his moral sense,
his inherited values.
All this applies to some apparent contradictions that I wish
to diagnose and then resolve, or, if it should so turn out, to
characterise as merely apparent. I am concerned with some
questions rather than with any author or thinker, but it will help
me to say what I want to say if I refer now and from time to time
to a number of remarks by Bernard Williams: 1

(a) .. , the line on one side of which consistency plays

its peculiarly significant role is the line between
the theoretical and the practical, the line between
discourse which (to use a now familiar formula)
has to fit the world, and discourse which the world
has to fit . (PS 203)
 7

(b) ... when two people come out with inconsistent

assertions, there must be something wrong; when
two people come out with inconsistent
imperatives, there need be nothin~ wrong - that is
just how things have worked out. tPS 197)
(c) If I discover that two of my beliefs conflict, at
least one of them, by that very fact, will tend to
weakened; but the discovery that two desires
conflict has no tendency, in itself, to weaken
either ofthem. (PS 169)
(d) ... one can be forced to two inconsistent moral
judgements about the same situation, each of
them backed by the best possible reasons, and
each of them firmly demanding acceptance; and
while action or advice demands deciding between
them, it does not demand - or permit - deciding
that either of them was wrong, or only apparently
a requirement of the situation. The inconsistency
does not necessarily show that something was
wrong - except with the situation. (PS 205)
(e) ... while it is an indisputable ideal for an empirical
belief-system to be free from conflict, it is not at
all - contrary to what almost all philosophers
seem to assume - an indisputable ideal for a
value-system. (PS 206)
(f) It is my view, as it is Berlin's, that value- conflict
is not necessarily pathological at all, but some-
thing necessarily involved in human values, and to
be taken as central by an adequate understanding
of them. I also think, though Berlin may not, that
where conflict needs to be overcome, this 'need' is
not of a purely logical character, nor a require-
ment of pure rationality, but rather a kind of
social or personal need, the pressure of which will
be felt in some historical circumstances rather
than others. (ML 72)
(g) It is notable that insofar as it is features of our
moral experience that draw us towards ideas of
the objectivity of ethics, the experience of moral
8

conflict is precisely one that conveys most

strongly such an idea. That there is nothing that
one decently, honourably, or adequately can do
seems a kind of truth as firmly independent of the
will and inclination as anything in morality.
Indeed it is independent of the · will and
inclination, but it does not follow that it is
independent of what one is, nor that these
impressions represent an order of things
independent of oneself. (ML 75)
(h) ... the public order, if it is to carry conviction, and
also not to flatten human experience, has to find
ways in which it can be adequately related to
private sentiment, which remains more 'intuitive'
and open to conflict than public rules can be. For
the intuitive condition is not only a state which
private understanding can live with, but a state
which it must have as part of its life, if that life is
going to have any density or conviction and
succeed in being that worthwhile kind of life
which human beings lack unless they feel more
than they can say, and grasp more than they can
explain. (ML 82)

These quotations need and deserve much detailed comment,

but they will not receive it here. I use them as representatives of
a familiar pattern of understanding of the relation between ethics
and science, mathematics, logic and other theoretical and
admittedly 'cognitive' enquiries. Williams indirectly grants a
licence for this procedure when he refers to Ross - 'whom
unfairly I shall mention without discussing in detail'.
Williams is unavoidably familiar with our ordinary
experience of trying to think a moral question through, and in
occasional references to its 'phenomenology' he recognizes that he
needs to offer some explanation of it - in fact to explain it away.
For on the face of it it conflicts with much of what he insistently
 9

says to us about ethics and morals. We have the impression that

we are guided, oriented, constrained, by much that is
independent of us, to which we are committed and that we
cannot renounce. The natural and common sense explanation of
this impression is that it is correct: that it is because we are so
committed and constrained that we have the experience as of
being so guided.
When we elaborate this conviction into its details it comes to
this: that we are committed by earlier actions and judgements
that we have not repudiated; we are shaped and constrained by
ethical and moral teaching that we have absorbed and not
disgorged. Those who, like Williams, wish to hold that all this is
illusory, will and must speak of 'conditioning' and of
'internalisation'. When they do so they are recognizing the causal
character of the processes that rationally constrain us. They
forget that the same is true of teaching outside ethics. My early
training in arithmetic rules out my calculating or miscalculating
in such and such a way. My knowledge of French is limited
enough to make me ask how to express this or that point
idiomatically, but extensive enough to show me that the phrases
I first thought of are not idiomatic, or do not express the point.
It is as though Williams had never read On Certainty,2 the
culmination of Wittgenstein's progressive regression 'back to the
teaching'. Only in a system, against a background - a system and
background that we are not and could not be concerned to
question - do our questions and doubts acquire and retain their
intelligibility. As McDowell observes in his critical notice of
Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy (Mind, July 1986) Williams
does not think it necessary to attend to these points even to
10

criticise them, even merely to dismiss them.

Yet the consequences for his view of ethics may be serious.
When we look back to the teaching we may be less disposed to
think that there is such a sharp contrast as Williams supposes
between science and ethics, or mathematics and ethics. If we
allow the notion of 'fitting the world' or 'being guided by the
world' to dominate us - and we shall allow it to do so if we
constantly require the natural sciences to be our paradigm - then
there is going to be a mystery about how ethics can be rational.
What in the world is there for ethical judgements to fit? No
wonder the upshot is the mythology underlying Williams's first
law, as expressed in 'a now familiar formula'.

The need and the desire for consistency with what we already
believe, the Platonic requirement of harmonia, is a constraint
that forms an important source of what Williams regards as the
illusion that moral truth is independent of us. The mistake is as
usual that of differentiating between theory and practice on
insufficient grounds. We must place the individual enquirer or
agent in the centre of the picture. When we do so we notice that
he will and must be beholden to his existing beliefs and values,
and in particular to the most fundamental among them, for any
response he can intelligibly make to a question or a dilemma,
conflict or bewilderment, theoretical or practical, that besets
him.
The more fundamental the beliefs and values are, the nearer
they are to being what constitutes the agent or enquirer. He could
not be identified and characterized without reference to these
deep commitments to beliefs and values, values and beliefs. Now
 11

it is Williams himself who urges us to remember that we are as

we are, that we have histories and particularities. But it is only
when speaking of choice, of values, of decisions to do something,
that he issues this reminder. Let us therefore remind him that it
applies in full force to what we also do when we are engaged in
that 'species of controlled conduct' that Peirce equates with logic
and all enquiry.3

Williams also remembers sometimes and in some contexts, and

should remember in the context of controversies about the
epistemology of morals, that the whole human species, and not
just the individual agent or thinker, is dependent on historical
particularities for its identity. This again gives scope for that
sense of being guided by reason that even Williams has to notice
as a feature of the phenomenology of deliberation and moral
debate. The explanation of it is more similar than he allows to
that of the corresponding feeling of being guided by reason that is
part of the phenomenology of theoretical enquiry too.
Williams speaks in different places of imperatives, aims,
wishes and desires, contrasting them all with beliefs and
assertions. He exempts moral judgements from the requirement
of mutual consistency that he regards as binding on a person's set
of non-moral beliefs. Presumably what he calls moral and ethical
judgements - he seems to be careful not to call them moral and
ethical beliefs - are the elements of what he calls in another place
'a personal value-system'. He pays attention to some but not all
of the differences between these various propositional acts and
attitudes. It is not surprising, and is not a matter for complaint,
that in collections of essays written for different purposes and
12

occasions he does not offer any systematic classification of the

various acts and attitudes that he considers in different places
and contexts. It is a matter for regret, all the same, since
attention to similarities and differences between just such items
is - as Williams himself recognises - of great importance for the
issues that he and we are here concerned with. What is more
serious is that he is nothing like comprehensive in his coverage of
the range of such items that is relevant to the problems of moral
epistemology. It happens that some of his omissions look as if
they might have been prompted by assumptions with which
Williams sets out on his investigation, and which accordingly
need to be questioned as soon as the omissions are repaired.
I shall not try to offer here the systematic classification that
Williams does not supply. I too am contributing to a
miscellaneous collection of essays, and since what I question is a
set of initial assumptions rather than a series of arguments from
them, I too may be allowed some of the risks and benefits of a
broad brush.
So let me just ask, to begin with, whether Williams would
regard it as entirely in order for me to have a set of conflicting
intentions, or to support two conflicting proposals, or to adopt a
plan whose fulfilment is incompatible with that of another plan
that I have already adopted and have not repudiated.
A related set of questions might be raised about conflicting
advice or guidance. Is there 'something wrong' when two people
offer me advice but do not agree in the advice that they offer? If
not, what about the case in which one and the same person gives
me advice that conflicts with advice that he has already given me
and has not withdrawn? In the systematic account that we are
 13

not offering it would also be necessary to consider conflicting

reactions, dispositions, inclinations, injunctions, preferences,
resolutions, principles of action, maxims of conduct. In the course
of doing so we might become clearer about how to set about
making the world fit such 'discourse', a problem as interesting
and difficult as that of achieving a fit between incoherent
discourse and recalcitrant world when it is the discourse that has
to fit the world rather than the world the discourse.
The last item in my list of forms of discourse makes nearly
explicit what has for some time been implicit in my remarks: that
I am offering a pragmatist response to Williams and to others
who try to dig a deep ditch between theoretical and practical
reasoning. Peirce says that beliefs are maxims of conduct. In
saying this he does not distinguish between practical and
theoretical beliefs. For the pragmatist, all beliefs are practical,
including theoretical beliefs. He may therefore need to tell us how
a theoretical belief can qualify as practical in order to qualify as a
belief. Williams, by contrast, starts with theoretical beliefs as
paradigms of belief and hence finds practical beliefs to be
defective specimens of belief, or not to be properly qualified to be
called beliefs at all. The contrast looks sharper still when Peirce
goes on to declare that all reasoning and all enquiry is 'a species
of controlled conduct', and so is subject to ethical standards:
'Logic is the ethics of the intellect'.
Of course to show that Williams does not agree with Peirce is
not to show that what Williams says is unreasonable. Perhaps
Peirce is wrong.
What persuades me that Peirce is right is not any formal
argument that he offers. It is the faithfulness and coherence of his
14

description of the perceived and experienced character of enquiry,

both theoretical and practical. He is realistic about the facts of
our reflective life at points where Williams is unrealistic, and
where his unrealism betrays him into simplification; into what
Wittgenstein called the imposition of a requirement on
phenomena that should be described in their natural habitat, not
caged in a theory.
The integration of enquiry achieved by Peirce is taken
further and presented more clearly by his successor C.1. Lewis: 4

(i) Validity requires not only consistency of what

we say with what else we say, but also
consistency of what. we say with what we do.
(146)

(ii ) Life is temporal; and human life is self-

consciously temporal. Our ultimate interest
looks to possible realizations of value in direct
experience; but the immediacies so looked to
are not what is immediate now but extend
beyond that to the future.
It is thus that human life is permeated with
the quality of concern. The secret of activity is
to be found in such concern; of activity, that is,
so far as it goes beyond unconscious behaviour
and animal compulsions, and attempts some
self~rection of the passage of immediacy. It is
only by such concern and such attempt of se1f-
direction that we entertain any clearly
conscious interests and seek to make appraisals.
This is also the root of what we call our
rationality and of that imperative which
attaches to the rational. It is through such
concern that we are constrained now to take
that attitude, and now to do that deed, which
later we shall be satisfied to have taken and to
ha ve done. (479-80)
 15

(iii) Thinking and discoursing are important and

peculiarly human ways of acting. Insofar as our
actions of this sort are affected with concern for
what we may later think or wish to affirm, we
attempt to be consistent or rational; and when
we achieve this kind of self-accord, then we are
logical, and what we think or say, whether true
or not, has logical validity. (480)
(iv) Consistency of thought is for the sake of and is
aimed at consistency in action; and consistency
in action is derivative from consistency of
willing - of purposing, of setting a value on. If
it were not that present valuing and doing may
later be a matter of regret, then there would be
no point and no imperative to consistency of
any kind. No act would then be affected by
relation to any principle, and no thinking by
any consideration of validity. Life in general
would be free of any concern; and there would
be no distinction of what is rational from what
is perverse or silly. (480-81)

Even if Williams has no stomach for the full-blooded

pragmatism with which I am contrasting his account, he
presumably recognizes some fairly close relation between belief
and behaviour, even when the belief in question is of the kind
that would be distinguished as theoretical. It is by his reactions
and responses in relevant circumstances that a person is
recognized as believing that the ice is thick enough for skating or
that rain may reasonably be expected.
Instead of going the shorter way back to Peirce and Lewis we
might go back the longer way to Socrates and Plato and still find
some of the same lessons being taught. Socrates is at least as
insistent as Williams that my practical choices are my choices,
that the individual human being is an autonomous agent and
judge of good and evil. Yet he applies to thought in general and
16

not just to practical thought that same individualism, autonomy

and responsibility. For him, as for Peirce, reflection is a species of
controlled conduct. For him, as for Lewis, all thought is a drive
towards consistency and coherence: the harmonia of the Gorgias,
the Phaedrus and the Republic is an ancestor of Lewis's 'self-
accord' . For all three thinkers, the achievement of logical
coherence is also the achievement of psychological integration
and stability: the items between which the relations of logic hold
or fail to hold are not only the bloodless propositions of the text
books of logic and philosophy, but the beliefs and hopes and fears
and animosities of the embodied and ensouled human beings
between whom all dialectic is transacted, and in and by whom
every search for knowledge and self-knowledge is pursued.
In both enterprises I seek within myself, as Heraclitus did. In
both I am concerned to fit what I say with what I say, what I
believe with what I believe, what I feel or do with what I feel or
do. What then of my aspiration to fit my thoughts to the world
or to make the world fit my thoughts? The paradigm that lures
even such a milk and water positivist as Williams here shows
itself to be a requirement imposed on material reluctant to
receive it.
The same complaint and the same corrective could be
brought closer to home: what about philosophy? Williams
recognizes that his philosophical account of practical and moral
enquiry needs to be consistent; that there is 'something wrong' if
there is any incoherence in his thoughts about it, or a conflict
between his thoughts and mine. Yet it is hard to see what it is in
the world that he is trying to map when he writes 'Consistency
and Realism' or Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy. 5
 17

Is it a requirement for the objectivity of mathematics and

logic that they should correspond to how things are in the world,
as it is often held to be a requirement for the objectivity of
ethics? A philosopher said to me once 'You always ask that
question' and I said 'Yes, because nobody ever answers it'.
For mathematical and logical truths to be independent of us
it is not necessary that they should 'represent an order of things
independent of oneself', since it is not necessary that they should
represent an order of things at all. When the desire for a simple
relation between a form of discourse and the world is frustrated,
philosophers are inclined to question the legitimacy of the
discourse rather than to question the requirement of a simple
relation to the world. Williams wants to preserve a requirement
that the world should 'guide' us to anything that deserves to be
called 'truth', and he does not notice that there is another way of
prOviding a causal account and explanation of rational
convergence than to recognize or hypothesise a set of substances
whose independent natures shape our thought and speech. The
teaching and training that Wittgenstein described is also a causal
process, and its causal consequences extend into every enquiry
that we undertake, whether single-handed, in collaboration or in
conflict. What he prosaically describes is what Plato pictures in
his story of anamnesis, of learning as recollection of what we
have long known. The truth is in us, and is brought to light by
Socrates the midwife.
Williams glances at this and glances off it when he says that
human beings will have no density or conviction in their lives
'unless they feel more than they can say, and grasp more than
they can explain'. We are large, we contain multitudes. Once
18

again we have to avoid tendentious contrasts between the

theoretical and the practical. Keats was not thinking only of
practice when he commended our negative capabilities. Hegel
risked more than moral conflict to incur Moore's celebrated
rebuke:

Many philosophers, therefore, when they admit a

distinction, yet (following the lead of Hegel) boldly
assert their right, in a slightly more obscure form of
words, also to deny it. The principle of organic unities,
like that of combined analysis and synthesis, is mainly
used to defend the practice of holding both of two
contradictory propositions, wherever this may seem
convenient . In this, as in other matters, Hegel's main
service to philosophy has consisted in giving a name to
and erecting into a principle, a type of fallacy to which
experience had shown philosophers, along with the rest
of mankind, to be addicted. No wonder that he has
followers and admirers. 6

Does Williams think that it is an indisputable ideal for a

philosophical belief-system to be free from conflict?
Williams is large, he contains multitudes; like the woman
who kept two pug-dogs, he sometimes knows more than he can
say, and therefore says things that look as if they contradict
other things that he says, or things that we all know but do not
always remember. We may offer argument against him, as
against the dog-owner . We may suggest that there cannot be
'the best possible reasons' for any judgement when there are also
the best possible reasons for a judgement that conflicts with it.
But there is a more excellent way. There is the way of
charity; of recognizing Williams as a contributor to the enterprise
of saying more than can be said, of learning from him about
tragedy and moral conflict even when he teaches in the
 19

paradoxical manner that makes austere thinkers suspicious of

Hegel or of common sense or proverbial wisdom or of a woman
who claims to be able to distinguish degrees of
indistinguishability between two or more mutually
indistinguishable things.
Charity will also recall to us that Williams speaks helpfully
of the 'non-logical needs' that are our deepest needs, whatever
our logical capacities or limitations. We may pass the bounds of
charity if we go on to suggest that one of his own non-logical
needs is to liberate himself from a tyrannical power with which
he confuses the authority of a rational but autonomous morality.
We may stay within the bounds if we offer instead a form of
words that the eye of charity might see as a nutshell for his
message: 'Science and ethics are so unlike it's impossible to see
anything they have in common - especially ethics'.

Notes
1 Bernard Williams, Problems of the Self (Cambridge
University Press, 1973) and Moral Luck (Cambridge University
Press, 1981).
2 Ludwig Wittgenstein, On Certainty, edited by G.E.M.
Anscombe and G.H. von Wright (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1969).
3 C.S. Peirce, Collected Papers, Vols. I-VI, edited by
Charles Hartshorne and Paul Weiss (Harvard University Press,
1931-1935).
4 C.I. Lewis, An Analysis of Knowledge and Valuation (La
Salle, Illinois: Open Court, 1946).
5 Bernard Williams, Ethics and the Limit of Philosophy
(London: Fontana Press/Collins, 1985) and 'Consistency and
20

Realism' in Problems of the Self.

6 G.E. Moore, 'The Refutation of Idealism' in Philosophical
Studies (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1922).
 2

NEGATIVE VALUES

Henryk Elzenberg

What do we require when defining negative value

(and the negative value--generating properties
that go along with it)?

At any rate we require some definition (in terms of value in

general?)

Moreover, we require some account of the following facts:

1) Of the fact that objects of negative value and objects of

positive value are both objects of value (and similarly for the
value-generating properties). Or to put it differently: of the fact
that positive and negative values are varieties of one
characteristic, not two entirely different ones.
Thus we have to construct a concept of 'having value in
general' from which, by adding some specific difference, we
should obtain the concepts of positive and negative value. If we
cannot do that, there is no justification for talking about values
in general.
This argument depends on the concept of negative value,! and

21
P. Geach (ed.) , Logic and Ethics, 21-31.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers.
22

it may be put as follows : if the concept of value - taken

positively - remains undefined, then certain requirements with
regard to that concept cannot be met. 2
2) Of the fact that negative value and positive value are felt
to be contrary characteristics (within a concept of 'value'
covering both of them), not just different ones.
3) Of the fact that we call one of those characteristics
'positive', and the other 'negative'. And that these appellations
are not simply a matter of convention, but indicate some real
features of these characteristics.
(We introduce here these peculiar concepts of 'positivity' and
'negativity'. To each of them there must be something justifying
that move.)
4a) Of the fact that - as it were according to a postulate of
reason in the matter - it cannot be the case that the basic
propositions stating some qualities to be of positive value, and
the basic propositions stating other qualities to be of negative
value - that these two sorts of basic proposition, I say, should be
wholly independent of one another.
Suppose for the sake of simplicity that there is just one
property generative of positive value (let us call it c), and also
just one property generative of negative value (let us call it d).
And suppose, moreover, that c and d are a pair of properties
quite contingent with regard to one another. E.g., let wisdom be
the property generative of positive value, and let greenness be the
property generative of negative value. (Thus everything green is
of negative value.) Now such a state of things is disturbing to us.
But why? Because we have here two basic propositions entirely
independent of one another; Le., neither can be justified by the
 23

other. (We have two independent intuitions here, and both on

the same level: one about the property generative of positive
value, another one about the property generative of negative
value.) And this we find intolerable, - un scandalle de la raison.
We want the proposition that c is a property generative of
positive value to entail the proposition that d is a property
generative of negative value - and this, moreover, must be based
on some definite relation between c and d. (The property
generative of negative value should be determinate in view of
some relation it bears to the property generative of positive
value. And that relation should be such as to account for the
meaning of contrariety and negativity here.)
(Why do we want that? Is it because we are offended by there
being two different basic propositions? Or is it because without
dependence there is also no contrariety, nor negativity? - There
is still some unclarity here.)
We want that our knowledge of at least one of the two kinds of
value-generating properties be implied by our knowledge of the
other kind. This is a characteristic assumption in form of a
postulate: we demand that (the essence of) the negatively value-
generating properties should depend upon (the essence of) the
positively value-generating ones.
We want an answer to the following question: "if this object is
of positive value, then how should another object be related to it
in order to be of negative value?" (Or: how is a property
generative of negative value to be related to one generative of
positive value?)
Any definition of negative value should make it possible to
point out some definite relation between a property generative of
24

positive value and one generative of negative value; i.e., a

relation in view of which, by knowing what properties generate
positive value, we might infer which ones generate negative
value.
Suppose wisdom is the positive value-generating property.
Then the negative one will be another property related to the
former in some definite way; i.e., stupidity in the case at hand. It
would be disturbing to us, however, if there were just one
positive and just one negative property, and no possibility of
pointing out some essential relation between them; e.g., wisdom
and greenness.
The negative value-generating property cannot be just any
property different from c, its negatively value-generating
character being determined quite independently, regardless of its
relation to the property c. Nor can it take a separate intuition to
recognize a negative value-generating property.
4b) Of the fact that - in particular - this relation is one of
exclusion. We believe objects to be of negative value if they have
some property by whose possession the possession of the positive
value-generating property is excluded. (Though not conversely!)
(The relation between the properties c and d is one of mutual
exclusion. They are properties such that an object may either
have c and not have d, or have d and not have c.)
It might be a property which is the most distant one along
some - continuous? - scale, like whiteness and blackness. But
this will not do, for there is no genus.
 25

Theories concerning the relation of a negative value-generating

property to the positive one

That relation might be of three kinds:

1) The Lack Theory. The negative value-generating property

is simply the lack of the positive one.
An exclusively positive value belongs to anything which has
the (pOSitively value-generating) property c to the highest
degree; an exclusively negative value belongs to anything having
c to the zero degree. Whatever lies in-between is of both positive
and negative value.
This theory does not turn out to be true under verification.
2) The Theory of Extremes. Consider a series of objects
ordered in such a way that any object in the series has in some
respect less similarity to the first one in it than the object
preceding it. Thus we have a series P, P l' P 2' ... , P n' with each
of the successive objects bearing less and less similarity to the
object P. (E.g., a series from black to white, through all shades of
grey.)
If P is of positive value, then - according to that theory - P n
is of negative value.
This theory does not turn out to be true under verification
either.
3) The Exclusion Theory, accepted by myself.
26

The definition offered satisfies all the requirements

We assume that the term 'to be of negative value' means 'to be

as it should not', in parallel to the definition of being of positive
value. Then all the requirements are met.
And as for the corresponding properties: a positive value-
generating property is one which the object should have; a
negative value-generating property is one which the object
should not have. Calling the positive property c, and the negative
property d, we get: A should be c, and A should not be d.
Ad 1. Both 'having positive value' and 'having negative value'
then fall within the single characteristic of 'having value'. (They
denote two species of the same genus.) And the same goes for the
positive and negative value-generating properties.
We define a positive value-generating property as debitum,
and a negative one as 'contradebitum'. (Negativity.) And we
define a value-generating property in general as one 'which the
object either should have, or should not have'.
Any object of value (in general, i.e. either positively, or
negatively) is an object 'either as it should be, or as it should not
be'.
Ad 2. We have contrariety here, for in one of the cases the
object should be such and such, in the other it should not be such
and such.
Now what is of positive value is denoted by a phrase
containing no negation; and what is of negative value - by a
phrase of the same structure, but with negation attached to one
of its terms.
(In the former case the relation of being debited holds between
 27

the object and a state of affairs, in the latter - between the

object and the negation of that state of affairs.)
Ad 3. At the same time the element of negation entering our
definition of negative value accounts for our calling it "negative",
and also for the fact that calling it that way (and not the other
way round) is not a matter of convention. Wherever there is
negation, there is negativity too.
Ad 4a and 4b. If a negative value-generating property is one
which the object should not have, then the proposition that a
given property c is positively value-generating entails a
proposition about what conditions must be met by the negative
value-generating property in question. I.e., if having property d
excludes having property c, and if we know about c that the
object should have it, then the object should not have property d.
One follows from the other. Consequently, the proposition that
property d is negatively value-generating is entailed by the
proposition that property c is positively value-generating. (And
the entailment holds in view of the relation of exclusion.)

Thesis: Any property which excludes some positive value-

generating property is itself a negative value-generating
property.

Proof: The object A should have c. But by the definition of

exclusive properties any object having d does not have property c
which is excluded by the former one. Hence A will have c only if
it does not have d. Now, as we have said, A should have c, and so
it should not have d. Thus the property excluding a positive
value-generating property is one which the object should not
28

have. This, however, is exactly the definition of a negative

value-generating property; which is what was to be shown.
An illustration: If roundness were a positive value-generating
property, then by our definition the properties of squareness and
triangularity should both be negatively value-generating; i.e.,
any object in so far as being either triangular or square should be
of negative value. On the other hand, with an un analysed genus,
the square or triangular objects would be merely without value.
(There is no entailment the other way round, however. For
assume that the object in question should not have property d. It
does not follow then that it should have property c rather than
any other one which excludes property d. In general, our
knowledge of the negative value-generating properties does not
entail any knowledge of the positive ones, except in the case of a
perfect disjunction 'either c, or d, but never both'.)

With the concept oJ(positive) value undefined, the requirements

cannot be satisfied

Ad 1. One may, of course, define value-generating properties

here. Thus "a positive value-generating property" is 'a property
such that any object having it is of positive value'. And similarly
for the negative property.
But if the general concept of value is not defined, then there is
no way of defining the term 'negative value', and also no way of
using the concept of value in general. (Nota bene: if there is a
concept of 'value in general', then neither the concept of positive
value, nor the concept of negative value can be a primitive one.
 29

for they have both to contain the generic concept of value and
some specific difference.) We have then two undefined concepts at
hand, and we cannot, of course, tell whether they are two species
of one genus. I.e., we cannot justify their common appellation of
'value'.
(We cannot then satisfactorily define negative value either in
terms of positive value, or in terms of value in general. Negative
value remains undefined. And then there is no way of telling why
it should be a value at all.)
Ad 2 and 9. The mutual exclusion of properties- assuming
their indefinability - does not turn the knowledge of the
positively value-generating character of the one into a knowledge
of the negatively value-generating character of the other. We
cannot then establish between the two concepts - of a positive
and a negative value-generating property - any relation at all.
For if an object that has property c is of value, then an object not
having c is merely without value,3 whatever the reason for its not
having it .
(Thus there is no way to show that having the opposite
property turns the object into one of negative value. An object
not having property c - whether because of having property d, or
for some other reason - does not thereby become of negative
value, but merely of no value at all.)
Our knowledge about positive values implies here a knowledge
about the negative ones, but not the other way round. For
suppose the object in question should not have d, and that having
on of those properties excludes having the other; in particular, to
have c excludes having d. This does not entail that the object
should have property c. For the debitum not to have property d
30

might follow from the fact that property d excludes the

possibility of having some property other than c.
(There might be different properties such that having anyone
of them excludes having the negative value-generating property
d; e.g., if the negative property is triangularity, then the other
ones might be both the positively valuable property of roundness,
and the negatively valuable property of squareness. And it might
also be - though not in this example - simply some neutral one.)
From the fact that the object in question should not be such
and such it does not follow yet what it should be. All that follows
is that it should have some property which excludes d - except
when there is no other option than the properties c and d. If,
however, the object might be either d, or c, or cl' or c2' ... , or cn '
then there is no telling which of these properties is that value-
generating one the exclusion of which by d is the reason why d is
negati vely value-generating.

Annex

However, there is a flaw in this reasoning. The debit of not

having property d follows from the debitum of having property c.
And the negative value which the object is getting by having d is
a derivative one. And with no other source of negative value in
sight, it looks as if negative value were always merely derivative.
But this seems to be inherent in my very assumption: if from
the positive value of some things we are to infer the negative
value of other things, then under my definition of a derivative
value all negative values must be derivative.
 31

Edited from unpublished manuscripts by Ulryk Schrade and

Boguslaw Wolniewicz.
Translated by B. Wolniewicz and P.T. Geach.

Notes

1 For some reasons I should prefer the term 'countervalue',

but here the other one may be used as well.
2 Cf. R.B. Perr~, A General Theory of Value, Toronto 1926;
as in Ross, pp. 89/90 (W.D. Ross, The Right and the Good,
Oxford 1930): "If 'good' is a unique quality, ... there is no way .. .
of defining the opposition of good and bad.
3 There is a doubt here. If under the state of affairs 'A is c'
the object is of value, and under the state' A is d' it cannot come
to be of value (not merely is not), then perhaps one might reason-
ably say that under the state" A is d' it is of negative value? This
is not clear enough yet.
 3

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO DEONTIC LOGIC?

Peter T. Geach

A branch of human learning that is at first strong and healthy

may early contract some malady that distorts its further growth.
So it was, I have elsewhere argued, with Aristotle's logic: he
began by distinguishing two sharply distinct categories, names
(onomata) and predicables (rhemata), but came to merge these
categories in the category of terms (horoi), which could pass
freely between subject-role and predicate-role. So it happened
also, I shall now argue, with deontic logic: the discinline earlv
lost one of the features given it by its fe
Henrik von Wright, and he too acquiesced
then have appeared small but has turned e
and fateful.
In the symbolism of von Wright's seminal article 'Deontic
Logic' (Mind 60, 1951) the operators ' 0' and ' P' for obligation
and permissibility are attached, not to propositional letters, but
to letters which stand in for general terms, and answer to kinds of
actions. These letters could indeed be truth-functionally
combined, but the use of the logical operators was only analogous
to their use in the propositional calculus, not identical, though it
is easy to see the connection:

33
P. Geach (ed.). Logic and Ethics. 3~8.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers.
34

'A&B' represents what a given agent does iff he does

both the kind of action represented by 'A' and that
represented by 'B'; 'A vB' represents what a given agent
does iff he does the kind of action represented by 'A'
and/ or that represented by 'B'; '-A' represents what a
given agent does iff he does not do the kind of action
represented by 'A'.
Formulas in which 'a' or 'P' are followed by letters, or 'truth-
functional' combinations of letters, that stand in for general
descriptions of actions could be interpreted as general
prescriptions or permissions: 'It is obligatory to honour parents',
'It is permissible to get married'. But a much more fruitful
reading of which the symbolism equally allows would take some
one agent's obligations to be our subject matter; there is no need
to mention the agent, who is like a parameter in algebra; we just
interpret the formulas as relating to the same agent all through,
whoever he may be. With this interpretation, it is easy to see
what the natural extensions of von Wright's system would be: we
must introduce letters standing in for names of different agents
and then quantifiers binding the corresponding name-variables;
further, we should relativize obligations to time, so that we
should need either time-indicating expressions or operators of
tense-logic; and so on.
The strange thing is that the natural development never took
place. In terms of this appropriate extension of von Wright's
system, 'Tom ought to punish John' would be of the form
,( OA)t', where t = Tom and '0' is an operator transforming the
predicable '- punishes John' into a new predicable '- ought to
punish John'. In the way deontic logic did develop, the operator
, 0' was reconstructed as a proposition-forming operator upon
propositional arguments; and our example would be seen as an
instance of the schema 'Op': 'It ought to be the case that/Tom
 35

punishes John'.
For some reason, this new account of the deontic operator ' 0'
gas prevailed in subsequent discussion; already in Prior's Formal
Logic (1955) this was the version of deontic logic that got
presented, and von Wright himself, for what motive I do not
know, came round to this formulation. Later developments of
deontic logic have introduced further devices and new ideas, but
this point has not come in for reconsideration: that the topic is
not what an agent is obliged to do or suffer or permit or abstain
from, but which states of affairs ought to be.
Here, to my mind, the fatal false step was taken. I am not
concerned here with tracing either possible influences on the
minds of theorists or the details of subsequent development: the
main thing is to establish that it was a false step. (It is perhaps
worth mentioning that E. Mally in his work of 1926, Grund-
gesetze des Sollens, had the same idea of a deontic propositional
operator - and the same rashness in constructing formal systems
regardless of any sensible concrete interpretation- as many
deontic logicians or our time.) To my mind, it was a false step
curiously similar to Aristotle's false step in the logic of
predication. Aristotle first made the category-<iistinction
between names and predicables, and then blurred it by setting up
the bogus category of terms; any attempted formalization of
predicate logic thereafter had to be defective until Frege
restituted the distinction between names and predicables (in
terms of arguments and functions: a name can only be treated as
an argument, not as a function), Similarly here: obligation
essentially relates to an agent, it is somebody's obligation; if
instead we try to think of the ought-to-be-ness, Sein-soUen, of a
36

situation involving the agent, then our thinking is going to be

confused; our mental vision, so to say, is prevented from cOming
to a proper focus .
I am not grounding this opinion merely on the suggestions of
vernaculars. In a number of languages, obligation is expressed by
some auxiliary verb, or again by some inflexion of a verb, like the
gerund or gerundive construction in Latin or the Greek particles
in -teos; and this might well seem to lend support to the view
that logically we are concerned with an operator that forms verbs
from verbs, predicables from predicables. But such suggestions of
grammar, even when not peculiar to one language, are
notoriously often misleading.
A much stronger argument comes from a class of case several
times mentioned by St. Anselm. Let us consider sentences
mentioning more than one agent, and which allow of equivalent
active and passive forms . If the deontic operator applied to whole
propositions, then the results of modifying the active and the
equivalent passive form with an 'ought' must likewise be
equivalent. but such equivalences often appear not to hold. 'John
beats up Tom' and 'Tom is beaten up be John' are equivalent;
but it looks as though 'John ought to beat up Tom' and 'Tom
ought to be beaten up by John' are not necessarily equivalent.
There is no manifest inconsistency in saying: 'I do not allow that
John ought to beat up Tom; Tom no doubt is a rascal, but it is
not John's business to beat him up, John has no right to. But
Tom ought to get beaten up by John; he thoroughly deserves it,
he asked for it, serve him right'. Nor do I see how anyone could
show t.his moral attitude to be latently inconsistent. If the
attitude is consistently held, this is readily explained by
 37

supposing that 'ought' operates on predicables to form

predicables: we might then expect there to be no direct logical
link between what Tom ought to undergo and what John ought
to do. But on the view I am attacking, we must have in mind one
single possible state of affairs, indifferently describable either as
John's beating up Tom or as Tom's being beaten up by John, and
then ask ourselves whether this ought to be or ought not to be.
To my mind this is a non~uestion, a muddle.
One possible reply is that my argument involves an equi-
vocation on 'ought': words of the same category need not have
the same sense, and there might be a special sense of 'ought'
connected with desert. But in general we need not suppose that a
special ground for making a predication must go with a special
sense of what is predicated - even if much recent philosophizing
has assumed it must. And my very example is readily adapted to
a case where the grounds for affirming 'Tom ought to be beaten
up by John' while rejecting 'John ought to beat up Tom' have
nothing to do with Tom's ill desert: e.g., John may be a criminal
and Tom a policeman working for the capture of John's gang,
and Tom's submitting to being beaten up by John may be a
necessary part of the police plans.
We cannot indeed always tell from the surface grammar what
a predicable formed with 'ought' must be read as attached to. If
Johnson says 'Somebody ought to shoot the Shah of Persia!' he is
not likely to mean that the predicable '-ought to shoot the Shah
of Persia' is true of somebody: but rather, that the predicable
'-ought to be shot (by someone or other)' is true of the Shah.
Again, 'There ought to be a law against smoking in buses' (if the
speaker is really thinking) will mean that the predicable '-ought
38

to make a law against smoking in buses' is true of some person or

persons. this sort of spelling out will sometimes be difficult, and
with a confused thinker perhaps impossible; but unless we can get
what is said into the form of ascribing an 'ought'-modified
predicable to some (one or more than one) person, saying what he
(they) ought to do or permit or omit or undergo (etc.), nothing
definite has been said at all. In no case may we content ourselves
with the supposed Sein-sollen of a state of affairs.
What I have just said of course applies only to examples where
'ought' modifies the main verb of a single sentence. Very often we
get 'ought' modifying what is not even a clause that could also
occur as a free-standing sentence: modifying a mere undetachable
sentence-fragment, as in this sentence (twice over):
If the chairman allows members to talk longer than
they ought, we shall never get through the agenda that
we ought to finish this morning.
This fits in with my account of 'ought', but does not demand it
as an explanation; for what are certainly propositional operators,
e.g., negation and the modal operators of necessity and
possibility, may also figure in such sentence-fragments. All the
same, it is well to remember such cases, for they serve to rule out
some wrong views as to the relation between 'ought' and
imperative force; imperative force clearly cannot attach such a
fragmentary part of a sentence.
If 'ought' is to be logically parsed as a predicable-forming
operator upon predicables, then the simple notation in which '0'
is prefixed to a letter (or 'truth-functional' complex of letters)
that stands in for a predicable will not work well in complex
cases: just as a similar notation will not work well for quantifiers
beyond monadic predicate logic. Frege showed us what was
 39

needed for multiple quantification; this gives us a model. '0' will

be an operator whose sense is completable by adding the name of
an agent under obligation and a predicable for an obligatory
action. A predicable is what we get from a sentence by having
instead of a name an empty argument-place that can be filled
with a namej like Frege, I mark these empty places with the
Greek consonant ej repetition of the e shows that the argument-
places must be filled with equiform names or name-variables. '0'
will be itself supplied with a variable to bind equiform variables
inserted in the argument-places of a predicable. Thus: we start
with a sentence, say' An & Bn'j we analyse this as the result of
attaching a predicable' Ae Be'
& to an name 'n'j to say that n
ought to perform, rather than does perform, the kind of action
represented by this predicable, we write:
(Ox)n(Ax & Bx)
In this simple case the need for such a notation, rather than one
modelled on von Wright's:
O(A & B)n
will not be apparentj but we soon see the need in more complex
cases. For instance, I have met with the objection that my logical
parsing of the operator 'ought' cannot mark the distinction
between 'If n ought to do A, then n ought to do A' a trivial
tautology in which as Quine would say, 'ought' does not occur
essentially, and 'n ought (to do A if he ought to do A)' which is a
schema that comes out logically true in deontic logic. With' 0' as
a propositional operator, the difference comes out thus:
O(An) -I O(An)j Q(Q(~ -I ~
But this depends on the fact that the results of the O-operation
are again propositions; can we do the like with my '0', which is
40

not applicable to propositions?

In fact, we can. We first need a predicable to say of any person
that if he ought to do A then he does A. To say this of n we
write:
(Ox)n(Ax) -+ An
so our required predicable is:
(Ox)e(Ax) -+ Ae
To say that this ought to be the way n acts we now write:
(Oy)n(( Ox)y(Ax) -+ Ay)
and we may contrast this with:
(Ox)n(Ax) -+ (Oy)n(Ay)
where the relettering of the bound variable makes no substantial
difference between antecedent and consequent.
In the light of this we may now consider a paradox originally
formulated by Aqvist. To see the problem in the right light, we
must first reflect on obligations to know certain facts. We would
ordinarily judge that in some cases, where an agent X is in a
position to find out whether p or not p, then if it is indeed the
case that p it is X's duty (we might perhaps say: X's job, X's
business) to know that p. For example:
(1) If X is in a position to find out whether X's
teenage son is taking heroin, then if X's teenage son is
taking heroin it is X's duty to know that X's son is
taking heroin.
But also we clearly have:
(2) If X does know that X's teenage son is taking
heroin, then it necessarily follows that X's teenage son
is taking heroin.
Now the following is a generally accepted principle of
propositional deontic logic:
 41

(3) If given p it necessarily follows that q, then if Qp

then Qq.
If the consequent of (1) can be put in the form:
O(X knows that X's teenage son is taking heroin),
then (1), (2), and (3) together will yield:
(4) If X is in a position to know whether X's teenage
son is taking heroin, and X's teenage son is taking
heroin, then O(X's teenage son is taking heroin);
and the last clause of (4) would be taken to mean:
X's teenage son ought to be taking heroin.
But now the inference has clearly gone wrong. Apparently (4) so
read has been derived from (1) by use of deontic logic and of an
obvious principle about knowledge (that things are as they are
known to be): but people will be justly reluctant to hold that
someone who holds the paternalistic moral code expressed in (1)
is therefore committed to the extreme 'permissive society'
morality of (4).
If I am right about the logical grammar of 'ought', the fallacy
in the inference is easily located, and we need not resort to our
symbolism to make it plainly apparent. (3) as it stands is wrong,
and must be regarded as a distortion of the plausible principle:
(3)' If given that an agent does A it necessarily
follows that he does B, then if he ought to do A he
ought to do B.
And (3)' will afford no bridge for the inference from (1) to (4):
for (3)' connects only the alleged obligations of one agent, not of
two agents like X and X's teenage son.
lt might seem, however, as though this change from (3) to (3)'
were insufficient to avoid Aqvist-type paradoxes. For we might
very well hold that among the things it is each man's business to
know about, if we can, is the question whether he himself has
42

certain faults and failing . For example:

(5) If X is in a position to know whether X goes in for
malicious gossip and X does go in for malicious gossip,
then X ought to know that X goes in for malicious
gossip.
An argument parallel to the one given above, using (3)' instead
of (3), might then lead from (5) via the premise:
(6) If X knows that X goes in for malicious gossip,
then it necessarily follows that X does go in for
malicious gossip
to the conclusion, no more acceptable than (4):
(7) If X is in a position to know whether X goes in for
malicious gossip, and X does go in for malicious gossip,
then X ought to go in for malicious gossip.
But this new paradox may be resolved by considering how our
duties relate to time. What it is supposedly X's duty to know(to
find out) at time t is surely that X has been hitherto a malicious
gossip; and X's duty at time t does not relate to what X has
already done, but to what X shall henceforth do. From 'X has
hitherto, as X knows, gone in for malicious gossip' there does not
necessarily follow 'x will henceforth go in for malicious gossip';
so neither can we use (3)' to pass from:
X ought to know that X has hitherto gone in for
malicious gossip
to
X ought henceforth to go in for malicious gossip.
So I think the amended principle does not allow regeneration of
Aqvist-type paradoxes.
Paradoxes of the 'good Samaritan' type are similar in
structure to the Aqvist paradox. That the good Samaritan
relieves a man who was robbed with brutal violence logically
 43

implies that a man is robbed with brutal violence: therefore, if it

'ought to be' that the good Samaritan relieves a man who was
robbed with brutal violence, it 'ought to be' that a man is robbed
with brutal violence. -If we do not think of 'ought' in terms of
Sein-soUen, then this sort of argument loses all appearance of
demonstration and need be no further considered.
A more serious type of paradox arises from consideration of
the acts to which an agent may be 'committed' by his own
violations of duty. Suppose that n ought not to do A,
(Ox)n(-Ax). The predicable '-A' strictly implies' A -I B' where
the arrow is read truth-functionally; so it looks as though we
may pass, by the surely acceptable principle (3), from
,( Ox)n(-Ax)' to ,( Ox)n(Ax -I Bx)'. And it is tempting then to
read this conclusion as follows: By doing A, n is obligatorily
committed to doing B, whatever this may be: given only that n's
doing A was forbidden. As well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb!
The fallacy here, as in my modified Aqvist paradox, lies in
ignoring time and tense in regard to obligations. Once n has done
the forbidden act A, his obligation has ceased, though obviously
he may still be under obligation not to do the like act again; n
has no obligation covering his past, for neither n nor even God
has any power over n's past. We say indeed that n ought not to
have done A; but we must not be fooled by the odd grammar of
the defective English verb 'ought'; we are not therein ascribing a
present obligation to n in regard to what he has done, rather it is
the obligation itself that is past. So 'n ought to have done A' is
not expressible in terms of the present, but only of the former,
truth of the formula ,( Ox)n(-Ax)'; and from this to the present
truth of ,( Ox)n(Ax -I Bx)' there is in any event no logical bridge.
44

We need not therefore go into the question whether this last

formula can properly be read as: If n does A, he is thereby
obligatorily committed to doing B.
If the misdeed represented by the predicable 'A' is one not
past but in contemplation, then there is indeed relevance in the
reflection that from ,( Ox)n(-Ax)' there follows logically
,( Ox)n(Ax -+ Bx)': n is obliged, ifhe does A, to do just anything!
But since the arrow is being read truth-functionally, all that we
show here is: n is obliged, either to refrain from doing A, or to do
B - however ' B' is interpreted. And since by hypothesis n is
obliged to refrain from doing A, simpliciter, this result is entirely
acceptable. It could indeed easily be shown that there is no
consistent way of describing n's obligations if we assume n to
have a plan of action that includes in prospect certain forbidden
acts:
There is no wicket in the gate of Law;
He that would e'er so lightly set ajar
That awful portal, must undo each bar.
But n is not in this case, in Aquinas' words, perplexus simpliciter,
bound to do wrong whatever he does; for he can abandon the
plan. it is only on the assumption that n wiU do A, which is
forbidden, that we find n committed to do B and to refrain from
doing B. And as we saw, we need not think n will be thus
perplexus by reason of past repented misdeeds.
I hold, therefore, that various well-known paradoxes of
deontic logic have puzzled people only because of two simple
mistakes: thinking of Sein-soUen instead of the obligations of
agents, and forgetting that obligations arise and are extinguished
in time. These errors have been made hard to detect by the use of
an unsuitable formal system.
 45

The wrong view of 'ought' as a propositional operator, which I

have thus far been expounding and exposing, is sometimes
embellished with possible-worlds semantics. Among the possible
worlds, there will be a deontically perfect world (at least one), in
which whatever ought to be done is done, and nothing that ought
not be be done; and what N.N. ought to do is simply what N.N.
does in such a deontically perfect world.
The objections to such an account are multiple. First, the past
history of our world, and of ourselves the agents now living in it,
is irretrievably not deontically perfect. We have left undone the
things that we ought to have done, and our fathers transgressed
before us. Many of our actual duties are therefore ones that
would not bind in a deontically perfect world; duties of
repentance, reparation, and restitution, of helping the victims of
wickedness, of punishing the guilty. Moreover, in a deontically
perfect world many of us would not be there to incur any duties;
for if we reject (as I think we should) doctrines of pre-existence
and reincarnation, N.N.'s identity depends on having been
begotten and conceived by such-and-such parents in such-and-
such circumstances; and the same goes for all of N.N.'s ancestors.
Now this ancestry often involves, somewhere along the line,
sexual acts contrary to duty; acts of rape, incest, adultery, or
again (according to some moral codes) of reckless procreation in
an overpopulated milieu. Any individuals with such tainted
ancestry must be absent from a deontically perfect world, and
they therefore cannot use it as a guide to their duties in this
world. We cannot conceive of a Trans World Airline that would
take us to a deontically perfect world: we are stuck with a past
that even God cannot alter.
46

I have however already pointed out how misleacling the

English 'ought to have' construction is: it is not a present 'ought'
relating to what people have done, but affirms the past holding of
an obligation. Perhaps a world with our past logically could be
deontically perfect from now on: everything that ought from now
on to be done might yet be done, and nothing else be done.
- Such a fancy, however, is no better as a guide to our actual
duties than would be the fancy of a world deontically perfect in
its entire history. In our world, N.N. has to frame his conduct in
the light of the certainty that even if he always does his duty,
other people will not always do theirs; he may not be able to
foresee who will fail when, but he must reckon with somebody's
failing at some time; some of N.N.'s actual duties arise from this.
People indeed sometimes talk as though N.N. ought to exclude
such foresight of his fellows' misbehaviour from his plans, and act
on the assumption that everybody else is going to behave well:
this self-imposed blindness is often called 'idealistic' or even
'saintly'. I do not share the admiration thus expressed. The idea
that such an attitude is commended in the Gospel is quite wrong;
the disciples were to regard themselves as like sheep among
wolves, to beware of men, and without losing their innocence to
practice a snakish cunning.
A more clifficult but important point is that a man cannot
make good and rational plans even on the assumption that his
own conduct will henceforth be deontically perfect. I do not mean
that he can plan rationally and virtuously when taking into
account specific future misdeeds of his own on definite occasions:
my present plans cannot be virtuous if as an integral part of
them I accept for a fact that I shall swindle a friend on Tuesday
 47

or torture a child on Friday. But I can, and rationally must,

reckon with the frailty of my nature, by reason of which I know
that I am going to fail some time somehow. Christians ascribe
this common frailty of ours to the Fall of Man; it is anyhow a
fact.
This frailty makes it impossible for me to go a long time
without wrongdoing. Each act of wrongdoing may be avoided,
and therefore culpable: with care and attention, I could have
avoided it. But I cannot sustain such premeditation and avoid all
wrong acts. The idea that this position is inconsistent involves a
mere error in modal logic: in effect, equating a conjunction of
possibilities with the possibility of a conjunction. It is like the
case of an overloaded boat; there is no one passenger, we may
suppose, so heavy that he must go overboard if the boat is not to
sink, but it may still be true that if she is not to sink someone
must go overboard. Or again, suppose Jane is a slave to nicotine:
there is no necessity for Jane to smoke this cigarette now, but by
the end of the day she will certainly have smoked at least forty.
Even as Jane is a slave to nicotine, all of us are slaves to sin, and
certain to fall into some wrongful acts and omissions, even if only
venial ones. Since this is so, I cannot plan rationally and well on
the assumption that I shall henceforth sin no more; for some of
my future duties, e.g. of reparation and repentance, will certainly
arise out of future misconduct not now in detail foreseeable.
I argued earlier that recent deontic logic gives a defective
account of the logical syntax of 'ought' sentences: if I was right,
then there was no logical need to show that semantics bringing in
a deontically perfect world only makes matters worse. But the
material considerations I have introduced in the last few
48

paragraphs are not irrelevant to deontic logic as a discipline. It is

not healthy for a branch of logic that purports to order our
thinking in a certain area to be developed as having no apparent
liaison with serious thinking in that area; and for the reasons I
have stated, my view is that this is what has happened,
particularly in theorizing about deontically perfect worlds.
There used to be a pietistic piece of advice given to children in
England: Ask yourself what Jesus would have done! (G.E. Moore
mentions this in his autobiography.) The advice was grotesque,
because such an interchange of roles is not coherently
conceivable. It is equally irrelevant and useless for N.N. to ask
how N.N. would act in a deontically perfect world, or a world
with a deontically perfect future; or even, for N.N. to assume a
deontically perfect future for himself. We are where we are, and
from here to such imaginary deontic perfections there is no road.
As the Irishman said: Sure, if myself were going to Ballyhooley,
't is not from here I'd be starting. But it is from here, just from
where we are, that we must all start: not only in practice, but
even in constructing deontic logic.
 THE ETHICAL ROOT OF LANGUAGE

Mary Catherine Gormally

Truth in Action

It is widely acknowledged that we hate the people we have

harmed, and that this hatred can come about in us as an effect of
our injurious actions. For we may do harm, not for harm's sake,
but for some other reason: but then, if the harm has been
culpable, we are likely to hate the one who has suffered the
injury. Now, if I thus unjustly hate a man, I am likely to think ill
of him, and am disposed to believe that he has done things which
he has not done, or acted from motives which he does not have.
Thus our actions can give rise to false beliefs in ourselves, and do
so in much the same way that lies do. For, just as we tend to
believe that our false assertions are justified (and hence borne out
by the facts) and may believe this because we have made the
assertions concerned, so we tend to believe that our bad and
stupid actions are justified (and hence made reasonable by the
circumstances) and may believe this because we have performed
the actions concerned.
It seems that Hume forgot this, for he said that our own
actions could not give rise to any judgements in ourselves,

49
P. Geach (ed.). Logic and Ethics. 49-70.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers.
50

whether true or false.! He said this as a part of his argument

against the doctrine that every bad action is a sort of lie, and this
falsehood is what constitutes moral evil. Our own actions do not
have any tendency to deceive us, he argued, and we can take
steps to prevent them from deceiving others. If the wrongness of
a bad action consisted in its tendency to deceive, then by
protecting others from this deception we would render our bad
actions good.
Evidently, it would be absurd to count successful hypocrisy
as virtue. However, we can already see that one of Hume's
premises is false: our actions can deceive us, and do so in a way
which is very similar to the way in which our own lies can
deceive us. Besides, there are several reasons for thinking the
theory that bad actions are lies to be an attractive one, and
worth considering.
Firstly: this theory connects together the ideas of rationality
and moral responsibility. Among the animals, only men are
rational, and only men are capable of injustice. An animal which
fails to respect the territory of another animal is not unjust, but
(if anything) merely an aberrant specimen - unless the trespasser
is a man, and then his breach can constitute an act of injustice.
This has some connection with man's rationality: but what? It
may be that the theory, according to which bad actions are (or at
least resemble) false assertions, can explain this connection.
Secondly: another matter which may be clarified is the old
problem of the mistaken conscience. A man who acts wrongly
without knowing it may be seen as being like the man who makes
a false assertion without knowing it. Such a man need not be
lying, but he is lying if he has simply said what is convenient,
 51

without giving truth a thought. Between the innocent mistake

and the deliberate lie there are many nuances of willfulness. This
paradigm of mistaken conscience may help us to see the topic
more clearly.
Thirdly: it may be that if we can see how bad actions are
opposed to the truth, this will help us to recognize them, and
give us a better will to avoid them. It used to be thought that
philosophy was a way of life. If actions other than false assertions
can be, or not be, contrary to the truth, we can see a reason for
supposing this.
I shall proceed with my investigation here by answering
Hume's main objections to the theory that the badness of bad
actions consists in their being a kind of lie. I shall then consider,
as best as I can, the difficult topic of the relation between
language and action.

The Definition of Lying

"Tis certain" says Hume "that an action, on many occasions,

may give rise to false conclusions in others; and that a person,
who thro' a window sees any lewd behaviour of mine with my
neighbor's wife, may be so simple as to imagine that she is
certainly my own. In this respect my action resembles somewhat
a lye or falsehood; only with this difference, which is material,
that I perform not the action with any intention of giving rise to
a false judgement in another, but merely to satisfy my lust and
passion."2
At first, this argument seems conclusive, for we naturally
52

suppose that the intention to deceive, rather than the tendency

to do so, is essential to lying. We do not lie by uttering the false
propositions contained in a fairy tale, and we do not lie when we
assert even a true proposition, if we believe it to be false. So the
obvious definition of "to lie" is "to utter a proposition with
intent to deceive someone into believing it."
However, this definition will not do: it provides neither a
necessary nor a sufficient condition for being a lie. A witness
before a court is lying if he gives false evidence, even if he does
not aim at getting anyone to believe him. (We can suppose him
to be giving evidence in a country in which there are strict laws
connecting evidence and conviction; or to be the State's witness
in a political trial. Under such circumstances he might know that
he could secure the conviction of an innocent man, or the
acquittal of a guilty one, on the basis of his evidence, but without
act ually getting anyone to believe that evidence at all.) However,
such a false witness certainly is lying, because a proposition
which plays the role of evidence in a trial is thereby being put
forward as a truth: for only truth belongs there, as a move in that
very serious language-game, the determination of innocence or
guilt.
Again, suppose you know a man who has eccentric theories
about fairy tales, theories according to which certain propositions
in these fairy tales are true. Now, you would not be lying to him
if, knowing he had these theories, you were to hand him a book of
fairy tales with the intention of deceiving him into believing some
of the propositions contained therein: and nor would you be lying
if you were to recite one of the fairy tales with the same
intention.
 53

What these examples illustrate is that a lie (in language) is a

cheating move in the language-game of truth telling. It seems
wrong to me to say, as Wittgenstein did, that lying is a
language-game. That would be like calling poker with aces up
the sleeve a kind of poker, on a par with straight poker and stud
poker. If you tell a story, and someone says "That's not true!"
you can say "But I'm telling a story - it's not meant to be true."
That would not be a defense, as it would be if lying were itself
one of the language-games.
The language-game of truth telling (that is, the linguistic
practice of speaking the truth) is called assertion. This is not to
say that all assertions are true, but that it is always a criticism of
an assertion, that it is false.
A lie, then, is an assertion whose maker does not believe it;
deception does not have to be brought into its definition. The
question of whether we can lie by our actions is a question of
whether our actions can be assertions when they are not
specifically linguistic actions: whether our actions have
significance, so that performing them we can assert what is not
the case.

Expressions Having Moral Weight

When he said that there was a material difference between bad

actions and lies, Hume was attacking the popular philosophy of
Wollaston; but Wollaston had not objected to lies as deceptions.
He had objected to them as assertions which were wrong: what
was wrong could not be right. (This looks like equivocation; is a
54

false assertion wrong in the sense that a bad action is wrong? But
we shall go further into this matter.)
In Wollaston's philosophy, the reason why non-linguistic
actions can be lies is that these actions have natural significance:
thus a wrong act signifies what is not the case. An example is
disposing of goods - by doing so, one signifies that they are one's
own, so that, if they are not, one lies.
Hume admits this much: "A person who takes possession of
another's goods, and uses them as his own, in a manner declares
them to be his own, and this falsehood is the source of the
immorality of injustice. But" he goes on to say "is property, or
right, or obligation, intelligible without an antecedent
morality? "3
This question is rather hard to answer: for in what way could
the relevant morality be expressed, without making use of these
concepts? We can see this by drawing an analogy with
man-made laws. Suppose one were instructed in court to give
evidence which was only about "the facts", i.e. evidence which
made no legal or moral assumptions. If one were really to obey
this instruction one would have to leave out words like
"property", "right", "obligation", except in quotation, or in
indirect speech constructions like "I thought that it was my
property". One would Similarly have to avoid the use of the
genitive in many of its senses, and many uses of the possessive
pronouns. One would have to avoid calling anything "money".
One could not refer to a man as one's host, since, if he is one's
host, that legally implies that one is only a licensee in his house.
One could not even speak of an event as having taken place in
the street, since it can be a question of law whether a particular
 55

bit of ground actually is in the street and not in someone's front

garden. There would be no end of restrictions on one's
descriptions of events, and it would be very hard, if not
impossible, to make it clear what had been happening at all.
Now, let us try to imagine that not only the evidence in
court, but even the laws of the land, missed out these concepts,
and simply said what acts or omissions were one's duty, and
under what conditions, without using any legally-loaded
conceptions like "property" or "street". It would be impossible
for all the laws to be like this. So what is antecedent, the law or
the legal concept? The two seem to be inseparable. In what sense
of "antecedent" is the law (which cannot be framed without using
them) antecedent to concepts like "property" and "right"?
As it is with man-made laws, so it is with the moral law.
Just as man-made laws contain legally-loaded expressions, so
moral laws contain expressions which carry moral weight. (Moral
laws which do not contain such expressions are cases of moral
laws which do contain them.) We could not frame the law "Thou
shalt not commit adultery" without having some prior concept of
marriage; we could not paraphrase "marriage" away, and change
"Thou shalt not commit adultery" to "Thou shall not do A or B
or C," where" A" " "B" and "c" are descriptions of actions , and
contain no morally-loaded conceptions, such as "genuinely
married to" .
What, then, do we say of Bume's accusation of circularity? A
bad act is contrary to the truth, but if the truths to which bad
acts are contrary are to the effect that certain acts are bad, then
it does look as though a definition of a bad act, as being one
which is contrary to the truth, is a bad definition. However, this
56

is not the case. Just as we could not paraphrase the law of the
land so that it contained no legal expressions but "It is legally
obligatory to ... " and "It is against the law to ... " so one could
paraphrase the moral law so that it contained no morally-
weighted expressions but "It is a bad act to ... " and "It is a good
act to ... " or the like.
If one takes another's goods, and treats them as one's own,
the truth to which one's act is contrary is that the goods belong
to the other. Now, people might say that "These goods belong to
Jones" means only "Anyone other than Jones who treats these
goods in a certain way is performing a bad action". However, this
analysis is only possible if the phrase "a certain way" can be
expanded and given a content which includes no reference,
explicit or implicit, to ownership. But this cannot be done, so it
is not clear that any circle exists here.
The way in which we cannot see law and morality (and,
indeed, cannot understand human conduct) without making use
of "value-laden" expressions like "rights", "marriage",
"commitment", "property" etc. is like the way in which we
cannot see the laws connecting the things of sense (and indeed
cannot understand the visible world) without making use of
expressions which suppose the existence of material objects. We
could not have a language which described the world in terms of
sense-data, though we have to see colours in order to see
material objects: and we could not describe the world of human
conduct in terms which missed out "value-Iaden t' concepts like
possession, though we have to see movements and hear words in
order to see where these "value-laden" concepts apply. 4
 57

Three Main Facts About Assertion

To consider further the question that is before us - namely,

whether we can perform non-linguistic acts which are contrary to
the truth - we need to have some idea of what an assertion is.
Late in time, people have explicitly distinguished
propositions from assertions: an assertion is an action; the
proposition asserted can, however, occur in other contexts where
it is not asserted. But what is this act? A proper account of this
would have to allow for the following facts:
1. There is a difference in value between truth and
falsehood, though any passage could be read, by a consistent set
ofrules, in a sense in which it was true, and in a sense in which it
was false: for a negation of a sentence can be made by
substituting for every expression the denial of that expression.
Suppose the passage as a whole says "P" and P is in fact the
case, then the passage is correct in the sense of being true. But
suppose we read the passage in the opposite sense: shall we say
that in this opPosite sense also it is correct, in the sense of being
false? Both truth and falsehood are essential to human speech
since it is essential to human speech that we can negate
propositions. However, as Wittgenstein pointed out, we have to
remember that a proposition has a sense independent of what is
the case: the way a proposition is to be taken is not fixed by the
facts. We cannot say "This true way of taking its meaning, and
this false way of taking its meaning,are both correct ways of
taking its meaning" for then, in order to know what a proposition
meant, in the true way and in the false way, we would have to
know whether it was true or false.
58

We can escape the temptation to regard truth and falsity as

being of equal status by seeing that there is a primary use of
language, a primary way of uttering a proposition, according to
which false propositions are incorrect, wrong. This primary way
is assertion of the proposition.
The practice of assertion gives propositions their meaning.
This is brought out by Wittgenstein's saying: Can't one
communicate with false propositions as hitherto with true ones,
so long as it is known that they are meant to be false? No, for a
proposition is true when things are as we are using it to say they
are, and if we mean - P by 'P', and what we mean is the case,
then 'P' in the new way of taking it is true and not false."
But how can this be, unless there is in language an act of
speech which is the utterance of a proposition, and which is only
correct when the proposition is true? It is essential to language
that there be such an act. Our languages are different in all kinds
of different ways, but they have this in common. One cannot be
culturally relativistic about this. In different cultures, there are
different ways of telling whether people are seriously asserting
what they say, but even if there are a lot of liars in a country,
and lying is not treated as shameful, it remains the case that liars
are making false assertions, and that false assertions are
incorrect. We cannot say (except in the way that we can say any
silly thing) "In that country, the practice of assertion does not
exist: there is instead another kind of statement, which is such
that it is not always incorrect to state what is false." This is the
absolute part of linguistic practice, the part that cannot be
altered by convention, as by convention we can alter the rules of
grammar. (Of course, though, convention makes a difference to
 59

whether one is making an assertion.)

This, then, is the first fact about assertion: It is essential to
assertion that an assertion is only correct when the proposition
asserted is true.
2. This fact, that it is essential to assertion that it is only
correct when it is true, leads on naturally to another fact: that
human assertion is the expression of belief. For it is essential to
belief that it is only correct when it is true: this is the difference
between belief and other ways of entertaining a proposition. But
a state of mind and the act which outwardly expresses it are
related like this: what makes the one an expression of the other is
that they have the same appropriate objects. It is (unless other
circumstances supervene) appropriate to laugh at the things
which it is appropriate to find funny, and appropriate to groan at
things which it is appropriate to find painful. Similarly, it is
(unless other circumstances supervene) appropriate to assert the
things which it is appropriate the believe: namely, truths. (Even
if one does not believe what one asserts, one's public showing is
correct if one's assertion is true.)
What more clearly shows that human assertion is the
expression of belief is Moore's paradox. If I say IIp but I do not
believe that pIt I am in some sense contradicting myself, not be
asserting in words two propositions which contradict each other
(for of course, "P" and "I do not believe that P" can both be
true) but by expressing a belief and denying that one has it. For
one expresses a belief that P by asserting "P".
This is not presented as a solution to Moore'S paradox, but, if
for the moment we regard the paradox as a source of knowledge
and not as a puzzle, it shows us this: that by our act of asserting
60

that P, we express the belief that P.

3. When we make verbal assertions, we take part in what is
called a "language-game". The expression "language-game" is
used to describe quite serious activities like marrying, not
because these activities are playful, but because when we are
taking part in a game, the nature or our actions is in part
determined by the rules of the game. So long as we show, by our
expectations etc. that we are performing a move in a game, our
action comes within the framework of the game, and is judged
according to its rules. This is how it is with promising, and
marrying, and assertion.
However, assertion is in another way the very opposite of a
game. A game is not serious, but whether or not one is making an
assertion depends on the seriousness with which ones utterances
is meant. In my example of the trial, the reason why an untrue
utterance of a proposition (which, remember, was not put
forward with intent to deceive, but only to provide the legally-
required evidence) was an assertion of it, was that the
proposition was being put forward as a reason for convicting a
man of a crime. So, by this example, the fact is brought out that
the "language-game" of assertion has the nature it does precisely
because it is not a game.
There is an extended game played by many people in
England and America, which consists in behaving as though
Sherlock Holmes existed, and treating him as a subject of
historical research. People even do things like looking up college
records to see whether he was indeed an Oxford man, as some
contend, or whether he was, on the contrary, a Cambridge man.
The assertions about Holmes are treated as true, or as mistaken,
 61

by the people playing this game, and there seems no likelihood

that it will end soon, and cease to exist as a context in which the
proposition "Sherlock Holmes lived in Baker Street" is treated as
an indubitable fact. But people do not mean all this seriously; it
does not mesh with their lives in the way that truth meshes with
one's life. Of course, serious historical research may be into a
question which is remote from one's practical concerns, but the
rules of this research do not exclude the bringing-to-bear of any
sort of knowledge: thus history is tied up with the rest of our
pursuit of truth, and is in this way serious. But it is not only its
failure to submit to well-known truth which makes the Holmes
game unserious. It was a well-known truth that the Roman
emperors were not gods, but the assertion "The emperor is
divine" was made serious, and thus made an assertion, by the
legal insistence that sacrifice be made to the emperor and by the
death-penalty which attached to a refusal to do this. If we had,
as it were, to sacrifice to Sherlock Holmes, by doing something
which could only be right if the stories were true, the Holmes
game would cease to be a game, and would become a set of lies,
and hence a set of assertions.
What is the difference between speech and noises? Words
have meaning because they can occur in propositions;
propositions have meaning because a proposition is the form of an
assertion. We could not somehow "have" a lot of propositions,
and then add assertion to our language by asserting these
propositions. A proposition has the meaning it does because it
can only be rightly asserted if certain things hold of it when it is
asserted. Thus "It is raining" has the meaning it does because it
can only be rightly asserted if it is raining in the place where (or
62

about which) it is asserted. When a proposition can be rightly

asserted, it is called "true".
But what makes it the case that this game (at which we
sometimes cheat) is not just like any other game, in which there
are rules according to which a move is right, and rules according
to which a move is wrong? It is that this game serves the
function of enabling us to share those facts in virtue of which the
right moves are right?
Human communication differs from the communication of
irrational animals in that a piece of communication between two
non-rational animals is a part of a set activity; it produces a
response appropriate to itself. (Thus the dance of the bee
produces flight to the spot indicated.) One might say that in the
language of brutes there was no mood but the imperative.
However, the human response to assertion (when things are
as they should be) is to treat what is said as true. There are
various ways of doing this; believing the speaker is one way.
However, not every assertion is an act of telling someone
something. The man who makes an assertion may be reminding
his hearer of the proposition asserted, or presenting to him a
truth (or supposed truth) which is meant to be taken on its own
merits (this is what I am doing here).5
This shows that assertion does not exist simply to induce
beliefs; it is rather that there is a sharing of truth in human
social life; assertion is the vehicle of this. To lie is to abuse the
vehicle of truth.
This sharing of truth in our lives is a part of the serious
business of life; indeed, what makes an assertion to be an
assertion is that it is presented as part of the serious business of
 63

life, and not as a part of some game of pretence. Pretended

assertions (jokes etc.) show themselves as non-assertions by not
being supposed to mesh into the serious business of life in the
particular way that truth does. A pretended assertion may have
(and may be meant to have) serious consequences (a joke might
get you a job, or lose you a friend) . But there is a particular way
(or perhaps a number of ways) in which truth relates to the
serious business of human life, and because of this the activity of
assertion and the activity of joking, or making pretended
assertions, are distinguished. For pretending actions do not bear
to the truth that relation which the corresponding real action
would bear to the truth.
Thus truth, as communicated by assertion, can show itself in
human life, and this is what gives content to our speech.

Assertions and Ethics

The first of these above facts shows us that when a man lies, he
makes a mistake on purpose. Now, when a man makes a mistake
on purpose, he usually alters the nature of his activity. For
example, if a musician deliberately plays a tune wrong, he is not
actually playing the tune, but an alteration ofit. And if a gunner
deliberately misses his target, he is not aiming at it. So why can't
a liar say when challenged "Oh, it's not meant to be true - it's a
lie"? Of course, it is meant to be true: that is just what makes it
a lie. So he means it as true when it is false.
We should notice also, that an assertion is an action. So
making an assertion is not like uttering a sentence. There are
64

rules for the formation of sentences, and sometimes one breaks

these rules deliberately, thus changing the nature of ones activity
from the uttering of a grammatical sentence to the uttering of an
ungrammatical one. What is wrong then is the sentence, not the
act of uttering the sentence. But a corresponding thing cannot be
said about assertion, because making a false assertion is asserting
falsely. The error, the false move in the game, does not consist in
the proposition - there is nothing wrong with that; it is false, but
a false proposition is only wrong if it is asserted: there are
essential uses for propositions in which the proposition may be
false. When it is denied, for example, it should be false. So it is
the act itself, not the proposition, which is wrong, when we assert
a false proposition.
In this case of lying, one has not changed the nature of one's
activity by doing it wrong on purpose; one is still performing the
activity, not with a variation, but, (as one thinks, at least)
completely wrong. So the liar does the thing one might suppose
to be impossible: he errs on purpose. The central problem of
ethics is how we can do this; how we can err on purpose. Thus
the lie is an appropriate paradigm for bad acts in general.
The second fact, that human assertion is the expression of
belief, means that our actions can express beliefs without our
saying that these are our beliefs, and without these being our
beliefs. But how do we express a belief (which we may not even
have) without saying that we have it?
We express a belief by performing an action which would
only be right if we had that belief. This is a reason for thinking
that any action is, in away, an assertion of many things. But we
have a convention whereby this capacity of our actions, to
 65

express belief, is attached particularly to the expression of belief.

For we have conventions whereby certain actions are only right if
certain facts obtain: and these actions, independently of these
conventions, are innocuous in kind, and have as a class no
significance. By these conventions, we are able to annex to these
actions (making certain noises etc.) the task of communicating
the truth. However, the way in which, by these actions, we
express belief, is the same as the way in which, by any of our
actions, we express belief: namely, by our actions being such as
would only be right if a belief is true.
This means that there must be a standard of rightness of
human conduct which is independent of our will and choice: for
we tell lies, and so the act of asserting P may be right as a part
of our plans even if P is not true. Thus, if, as Hume thought, one
presupposes a standard of rightness of human conduct by saying
that a bad act is contrary to the truth, one also presupposes a
standard of rightness of human conduct by saying that false
assertions are contrary to the truth. "Assertion", in fact, carries
moral weight, like "property", "right", and "obligation". It is a
value-laden concept.
This value-Iadenness does not stand on its own. Assertion is
just one of the ways in which our lives manifest truth, though we
are able, through our own choice, to manifest falsehood instead.
Indeed, how could it be that our rationality only showed itself in
the noises we made?
My third fact about assertion raises more problems than the
other two. If I am right in thinking that truth, as communicated
by assertion, can show itself in our lives, and that this is what
gives assertion its content, then a theory of language which
66

showed how language had its meaning would be a theory, not just
of language, but of human life.

More About Lying

The wife of Philip Gosse thought that fictions were immoral, and
so her son Edmund (who grew up to be a literary critic) never
encountered a fairy tale until she died.
Now, I would say to Mrs. Gosse that she was wrong: fictions
are not lies, for a fiction is not a set of assertions. However, in
view of what is said above about assertions, Mrs. Gosse might
retort that I was guilty of circularity. For one asserts P if one's
action is such as would only be right if P is true. But if this is so,
a storyteller does assert what he says in his story, if Mrs. Gosse
was right, and fictions are evil.
Nor is it a peculiarity of mine to think that it belongs to the
explanation of assertion to say that it is only right if what is
asserted is true. (Dummett compares the truth of an assertion
with the winning of a game). Should one then say "The
"wrongness of a false assertions is not a moral wrongness"?
Mrs. Gosse might then point out that, under some
circumstances, it is the moral wrongness of an assertion which
makes it to be an assertion, as in my case of the false witness. So
morality seems to enter into the notion of "right" which we
employ when we say that an assertion is only right if it is true.
The circularity which Hume thought he could see in an
explanation of injustice as the using of another s property as
though it were own's own is a circularity which we might also see
 67

in the account of lying as the assertion of a proposition which one

does not believe.
An assertion bears, to the circumstances which render it an
assertion, that relation of brute facts to more brute facts which
Anscombe treats of in her article "On Brute Facts" and also in
"Modern Moral Philosophy", where she says:
.. .if xyz is a set of facts brute relative to a description
A, then xyz is a set out of a range of some set among
which holds if A holds; but the holding of some set
among these does not necessarily entail A, because
exceptional circumstances can always make a difference,
and what are exceptional circumstances relatively to A
can generally only be explained by giving a few diverse
examples, and no theoretically adequate provision can
be made for exceptional circumstances, since a further
special context can theoretically always be imagined
that would reinterpret any special context. 6

If one examines anyone's attempt to give the circumstances

under which a person is asserting P, then one will see that
assertion is like owing (which is Anscombe's own example): the
brute facts are never enough. This we see whether we try to
define assertion in terms of externally visible actions, or in terms
of intentions to produce belief.
Thus we see that the particular kind of inexactness, as well
as the tie-in with ethics, which arise in connection with concepts
like debt, arise also in connection with assertion. Thus we have
further (though in itself insufficient) reason for counting assertion
as being among the "value-laden" concepts: that is, concepts
which are used to describe human actions in a way which makes
it appear why our actions or omissions are bad if we act in
certain ways, or fail to do SO. 7
Should we, then leave it at that, and say that, after all, since
68

there is a particular kind of action which is assertion, there is also

a particular virtue which is truthfulness, and a particular sin
which is lying? Is it unjustifiable to extend the concept of
truthfulness to cover all virtue?

The Application of the Paradigm

There is plainly a difference between speech and all other human

activities, and, as this is the case, there is a particular virtue of
truth, and a particular sin of lying. However, there is reason for
regarding lying as the paradigmatic sin. For to lie is to abuse the
vehicle of truth; and it is to deny the truth. But if man were not
himself a bearer of truth, nor could his actions be.
But my chief reason for regarding the lie as a paradigm of
bad action is that I have found that it helps my thinking about
ethics to do so: to think what does this action signify? We find, if
we think along these lines, that there are two different ways of
acting badly. One is to deny the significance of one's action; the
other is to maintain that what the action signifies actually is the
case, when it is not.
Thus, when one kills, one may see that one is in action saying
"this man must die", and that this act demands an answer to the
question "For what evildoing?" and to the further question "And
who are you to mete out punishment for this?" - but one's
answers to these questions may name no adequate cause, or no
reason for taking on the office of executioner. This is one kind of
murder. But there is another which denies that one is saying
"This man must die" by killing, or that the assertion "This man
 69

must die" calls for a particular kind of justification.

Of course, it requires a certain disposition of the will to enter
into the question "How does this man deserve death?", or into
the question "and what am I to give him his deserts?" And if
people want to deny that a disposition of the will can be in
accordance with truth (Le. whether it makes sense to say that it
is) then this on its own is enough to do away with the idea that
actions have significance.
However, the existence of assertion shows that some actions
at least do have significance; truth and meaning attach primarily
to the act of assertion, and it is because assertions are only right
when they are true that the propositions we use are capable of
having significance.
Thus language itself is based in actions which have
significance, and so there must be such a thing as a disposition of
the will which is in accordance with truth. Such a disposition,
narrowly defined, is a disposition to use language to assert true
propositions only. However, since the possibility of truth in
language rests on the incorrectness of the action of him who
makes a false assertion, and since assertion is an expression of
belief, and plays in the serious business of human life the public
part of belief, it is reasonable to extend this narrower notion of a
disposition of the will which is in accordance with truth into the
wider sphere of human action in general; for language is seen by
these facts to be rooted in the ethics of human life.
Philosophers in the West tend to be absolutists about truth,
and not about ethics. This is to be an absolutist about the
rightness of one kind of action (assertion) and not about any
others. (They would say that the wrongness of a false assertion is
70

not a moral wrongness. But what else is it?) This position is

unreasonable, and appears to exist because, after all, the common
business of philosophers is assertion. If they had much other
common business, maybe they would be absolutists about other
human actions as well.

Notes
1 See Hume's A Treatise of human Nature, Ed. L.A. Selby-
Bigge (Oxford 1960) Book III, Part I, section 1, p. 46l.
2 Ibid.
3 Ibid, p. 462.
4 See G.E.M. Anscombe, "On Brute Facts" in her
CoUected Philosophical Papers, Vol. III (Oxford, Basil Blackwell
1981), pp. 22-25.
5 See G.E.M. Anscombe, Collected Philosophical Papers,
Vol. II (Oxford, Basil Blackwell 1981), p. 116.
6 Op. cit., Vol. III. p. 28 .
7 Of course, there are other reasons for not uttering a false
proposition, than that doing so would be a lie. (There are
inappropriate jokes etc.) In the same way there can be other
reasons for not taking something, beside its being stealing (your
coat may be a man's only covering). This is one reason why an
ethical reduction of value-laden concepts is impossible.
 5

THE PRINCIPLE OF TRANSCENDENCE AND

THE FOUNDATION OF AXIOLOGY

Andrzej Grzegorczyk

l. Preliminaries

If we pass from general logical considerations to some other

branches of philosophy like ethics or axiology we must give a
more empirical meaning to fundamental notions.
Assuming simple type-theory as a basic ontology I interpret
first-order objects as empirical things. In axiology there are
needed at least four kinds of things:
(1) 1. I myself (the author of ethical consideration)
2. the set of human being (abbrev. Hum)
3. the set of all material things (Mat)
4. the material world W, conceived as one thing.

This choice of objects considered will be justified in section 5.

Hypothetical non-material objects like souls, angels, devils, God,
may be introduced, but ethical theorems must finally refer to
everyday things if we want to influence human behaviour in
everyday life.
According to (1) the following inclusions should be assumed:
(2) I E Humi Hum (Mati W E Mati W ¢ Hum.

71
P. Geach (ed.), Logic and Ethics, 71-78.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers. -
72

The elements of Hum have of course some specific properties like:

feeling, abilities, wants, actions. There are also some specific
relations between human beings, and the relations between the
elements of the sets Hum and Mat: human beings use some
material things to achieve a goal, human beings appreciate some
things, etc. Let me mention some examples of specific relations
between elements of the set Hum: for some x,y,z E Hum, x helps
y, or x forgives y for something, or x distributes something
equally between y and z. Some properties and relations of this
kind may be defined in psychology, some in praxeology or in
ethics itself. Thus it may be clear that I follow the so--<:alled
reistic requirement in building the exact language of science.
A general theoretical frame of axiology displayed in this
paper is the following:
A human being:
(3) (a) recognizes some of his/her properties or
relations (states and actions) as valuable,
(b) makes a choice between them, and
(c) tends to experience them.
Hence the first task of axiology is to analyze the act of
appreciation as the act of recognition of value.

II. The Act of Appreciation

A psychological analysis can hardly pass over the distinction

between non-{iefective and defective instances of a behaviour. I
shall refer to the act of appreciation which I shall call non-
defective:
A non-{iefective act of appreciation contains three
 73

components:
(4) a feeling of satisfaction (or dissatisfaction)
~ bc
a?
an intellectual judgement
a want or desire.
By the feeling of satisfaction we recognize a valuable state of
ourselves or a valuable relation to something else. This
recognition we express in a judgement of value and we realize it
by the desire of maintaining or obtaining this valuable state or
relation.
Analyzing the act of appreciation we make several
distinctions. I would like to mention the distinction between a
direct and an indirect act of appreciation:
(5) The appreciation is direct ifthe state or relation is
actually experienced. If not it is indirect.
The appreciation of eating a meal is direct. The negative
approach of threatening disaster (e.g. of possible earthquake or
nuclear war) is indirect. Likewise indirect are the appreciations of
freedom and security. Freedom is the possibility of performing
directly appreciated actions. Security is the removal of directly
negati vely appreciated states.
In order to sustain the reistic style of my considerations I
shall not introduce the notion of value as a noun, but only as an
adjective:
(6) An object X is for me (positively or negatively)
valuable if and only if I appreciate the object X
(positively or negatively).
Hence according to (5) there are directly and indirectly valuable
objects. The positively valuable objects are often simply called
values. But I prefer to speak of valuable properties and relations.
Moreover I shall limit my consideration to the properties of
74

myself and to my relations to other things. 'I myself' means of

course any philosopher or any thinking subject who wants to
follow this type of consideration.

III. Logical Classification of Directly Valuable Objects

According to (2) the following set-theoretical equality is

evidently true:
(7) Mat -{I} = (Hum -{I}) U (Mat -(Hum U{W})) U{W}
According to (2) the following three sets:
Hum -{I}, Mat -(Hum U{W}), {W}
are disjoint. The properties of myself may be identified with the
relations of I to I. Hence the following items (a), (b), (c) and (d)
give a complete (exhaustive) classification of possible cases:

ac} Properties of myself

!b Relations of myself to other persons
Relations of mIself to elements of
Mat -(Hum u{Wl)
(d) Relations of myself to W.

IV. Empirical Content of Logical Classification

A logical classification should prove to be empirically relevant.

Then I shall list the chief objects of direct appreciations. In every
of the logically distinguished cases (a) - (d) I shall mention two
kinds of properties (relations). They are marked by the letters A.
and B. and will be the objects of comments in the next sections:
 75

W Properties of myself:
A. Satiation, warmth, cleanness, quiet, health, rest,
strength.
Physical fitness, coordination of behaviour, intellectual
ability.
B. Knowledge, comprehension, inner harmony, self-
control.
Relations to other persons:
A. Parentage, affiliation, erotic ecstasy.
Domination, submission.
Be1ongingness, identification with my own group and
distinction from others (strangers, deficients).
B. Respect, deference to others.
Justice, equality, autonomy.
Generosity, reconciliation, forgiveness.
W Relations to extra-human things but not to the world as a
whole. sometimes relations to the people conceived as
impersonal:
A. Comfort.
PosseSSion, manipulation, control.
B. Perception of beauty and deeper order.
Creation of beauty and deeper order.
Relations to the world as a whole and to the supposed
mechanism of it:
A. The attitude of pretension, claim, pride, self-conceit.
B. Humility, acceptance of my destiny and of external
reality, belief in the meaningfulness of existence.

V. Some Comments on the Above List

None of the classes (a)-{d) is empty. In everyone of them there

are two different kinds of objects. Properties and relations listed
after the letter A. are closely linked to our biological life, listings
76

after the letter B. refer rather to what may be called our spiritual
life.
The above list mentions rather positively appreciated objects.
Positive cases are often names of the whole scale. E.g. 'health'
may denote the whole scale: health-illness, but 'illness' does not.
In (b) I should like to consider only relations between
individual persons, or between a person and a group of persons.
The treatment of a human being as a tool, or treatment of the
enemy army as a disaster, should belong to point (c).
Distinguishing (d) as a separate case is justified by the
observation that the attitude of pretension, grievances, claims
and pride have a tendency to generalization upon the whole of
reality. Also the faith in the value of other human beings and
deeply experienced acceptance of a person have a tendency to be
generalized upon the whole of reality and lead to the acceptance
of reality as a whole and to the acceptance of one's destiny. The
attitudes mentioned in (d) may be called numinous.
The most relevant reflection concerning the above logical
classification of directly valuable objects refers to the distinction
between vitally (or biologically) valuable objects mentioned
under A. and the others mentioned under B. which may be called
spiritually valuable. This distinction leads to the formulation of
the principle of transcendence.

VI. Vital and Spiritual Values

When listing directly valuable objects in everyone of the classes

(a)-(d), I find these two categories of objects marked respectively
 77

by the letters A. and B.

Vitally valuable properties and relations enhance our life,
ensure its persistence, or bring about its expansion. Properties
and relations called spiritually valuable do not contribute directly
to the persistence or expansion of our life; however, sometimes
they may contribute. Very often they reduce our vital expansion,
they imperil our life and endanger its persistence.
The most essential empirical thesis of this part of axiology
concerning human life affirms that:
(8) There is often a conflict between vitally and
spiritually directly valuable properties and
relations.
E.g. in social life we often realize a conflict between domination
and justice, between domination and autonomy as well as the
conflict between distinction from people of another group
(another nation, another religion) and reconciliation with them
There is a conflict between directing other people and treating
them with respect. In private life there is a conflict between
individual possession and the sense of equality or between
individual comfort and telling the truth, as well as the conflict
between individual (or collective) claims and the acceptance of
one's destiny.
The realization of these conflicts leads to the idea of the
following principles which may be called the principles of
transcendence:
I. Somebody's decision (or a fragment of somebody's life) is
morally better if it contains the tendency to experience more
properties or relations that are spiritually valuable.
II. If there is no possibility for harmonious experience of a
vitally and a spiritually valuable relation it is morally better to
78

renounce the vitally valuable relation than the renounce the

spiritually valuable relation.
One can informally summarize the above principles saying
that spiritual values outweigh vital values. (Of course in
axiology, not in average human life.)
Some examples of the application of the above principles:
If somebody working in an enterprise tries to establish in it
just human relations, then he acts morally better than coning
himself to efforts to get money.
Humility rather disarms one, but is morally better than
pride. Forgiveness also disarms one, but is morally better than
persistence in grievances and resentments.
Sometimes it is morally better if somebody says what he
thinks to be importantly true and endangers his vital interest or
even puts himself in danger of real repression, than if he remains
safe because he renounces telling the truth.
Morally better decisions often involve a bigger risk for our
vital concerns.

Conclusions

Axiology should be an exact philosophical theory.

Pure deduction without empirical analysis is futile.
The above consideration may be a proposal for giving axiology an
exact shape by combining analysis with some elements of formal
methodology.
 6

DEONTIC LOGIC AND IMPERATIVE LOGIC*

J. Harrison

There's a great text in Galatians,

Once you trip on it, entails
Twenty-nine distinct damnations,
One sure, if another fails.

Historically, I believe I am right in saying, the view that I

shall call Imperativism arose out of an attempt to find a moral
epistemology which conformed to the verification principle,
but was not a form of naturalism. Naturalism was supposed to
have been refuted by G.E. Moore; but then if one was not a
naturalist, one must, it was supposed, be an intuitionist, and
such a view was too facile a solution to one's epistemological
problems to be plausible, and fell foul of the verification
principle aforementioned. If the sentences which seemed to
express moral judgements in fact did not express propositions
at all, then one's epistemological problems would be
conveniently solved. It was no longer incumbent upon one to
explain how one knew that infanticide was wrong, for one was
not, when one said this, claiming to know that anything was

* By kind permission of the editl

an earlier draft of this paper.

79
P. Geach (ed.J, Logic and Ethics, 79-129.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers.
80

so at all. One was simply telling, or doing something like telling,

people not to commit infanticide. One did not have to explain
how one knew that infanticide possessed the attribute wrongness,
for wrongness was not an attribute.
There are, of course, a wide variety of things which one
might be doing, when one makes a moral "judgement", other
than make a statement or assert a proposition. One might, for
example, be evincing emotion, as one is alleged to be doing when
one says ".Hurray". One might be expressing a wish or an
attitude. But the view I shall here be concerned with is the view
that one is issuing a species of imperative or prescription.
The known species of imperatives include commands,
requests, instructions, directions, and recipes. I do not think that
moral judgements fall into any of these categories. Indeed, I think
it is rather obvious that they do not. The possibility remains,
however, that they are a distinct form of imperative
distinguished from the others in ways that I shall not touch upon.
Hence, in what follows, I shall address myself to considering
whether moral judgements can be imperatives at all. If they
cannot be imperatives at all, then it is needless to consider
whether they can be this or that variety of imperative - an
unique and unanalysable kind of imperative, perhaps.
I wish to show that moral judgements are not a species of
imperative by showing that they behave like indicatives, and not
like imperatives. The logical relations between one moral
judgement and another, and between factual judgements and
moral judgements, are quite unlike the relations between one
imperative and another, and between factual statements and
imperatives. I shall have as a subsidiary target that of showing
 81

that there is no such thing as imperative logic, i.e., there are no

arguments in which imperatives are either conclusions or
premises, and why it has been mistakenly supposed that there
are. There are indeed logical relations between one imperative
and another, but this simply supports a logic in which the
premises and conclusions are indicative statements about
imperatives. There can, however, be no question but that there
are arguments whose premises and conclusions are moral
judgements. This, indeed, is one important reason for thinking
that moral judgements are not imperatives.
I shall pay little attention to the too frequently discussed
question whether moral judgements can, unlike imperatives, be
true or false. I thing they can be, but we shall see that they may
possess the distinctive character of assertions even if they cannot
be true of false - propositions about the future may fall into a
similar category - and in any case I shall be advancing a large
number of objections to the view that moral judgements are
imperatives over and above the objection that they are capable of
being true or false. The reason why it is immaterial whether
moral judgements can be true or false is that, whether they can
be or not, they can be reiterated, and reiterating something does
much what is done by saying that it is true. For example, if
someone says "It is a fine day", I can, instead of saying, "That is
true", say, "Yes, it is a fine day". If someone says to me "Shut
the door", however, I cannot say, "Yes, shut the door". If one
does not accept that moral judgements can be true of false,
though imperatives cannot be, one may nevertheless argue that
moral judgements can be reiterated, though imperatives cannot
be.
82

I suspect that the reason why it is unusual to say that moral

judgements are true is that affirming something and affirming
that what has already been asserted is true, though logically
equivalent, have different contextual implications. If I say that
something that already has been asserted is true, then I am
contextually implying that I am more sure of it than I am when I
or someone else simply asserts it, that it has been established by
some reliable method, or that most other people would agree with
me that what I said was true, was true. These are features which
moral judgements notoriously lack. Nevertheless, even when one
is not prepared to say that a moral judgement is true, one can
reiterate it, as I have said. Imperatives cannot be reiterated; they
can only be repeated.
It is not only that assertions, unlike imperatives, can be
reiterated. If someone says that promises ought to be kept, then
someone can also think that the speaker is right if this other
person also thinks that promises ought to be kept. He will be
right in thinking that he is right if promises ought to be kept.
You cannot, of course, think that you yourself are wrong
when you think that promises ought to be kept, but you can
think that you may be wrong, and that someone who disagrees
with you is right. (The idea of being right is of somewhat wider
application than that of truth; a sea captain can be right in
thinking that there will be a sea battle tomorrow, even if it
cannot be true that there will be one, and the same, rather oddly,
is true of guessing.)
You cannot do any of the above-mentioned things with
imperatives. We cannot say of someone who has just said "Keep
your promises" that he is right, if keep your promises. The phrase
 83

"if keep your promises" does not make sense. Hence we cannot
think that someone else can be mistaken, when he issues an
imperative, or that we ourselves may be mistaken when we issue
an imperative.
Though someone saying "Keep your promises" cannot be
right or wrong, he can be right to say "Keep your promises".
Whether a person who has said something was right (because,
say, he said "Promises ought to be kept" and promises ought to
be kept) is quite a different question from the question whether
he was right to say it. If I am playing a guessing game with a
disturbed child, and I guess that it is in her left hand, and it is,
then I am right (as is my guess) but it may have been wrong of
me not to say that it was in her right hand (because it would give
her pleasure if my guess was wrong). And, if I say to a lady that
she is too fat, I can be right, because she is too fat, but quite
wrong to say it, because doing so gives her pain. Moral
judgements, like assertions, can be assessed according as to
whether the person who makes them is right, and according as to
whether he is right to assert them. Imperatives can be assessed
only in the latter way.
I have said that we can think that a man asserting a moral
judgement is right if we think things are as he says they are. It
could be objected that things cannot be as he says they are,
because he has not said how things are, but how they ought to
be. This is a mistake. Someone who is saying how things ought to
be is saying how things are; he is saying, so to speak, that it is so
that promises ought to be kept. That promises ought to be kept
is the way things are. He is asserting that it is the case that
promises ought to be kept, or that promises ought to be kept. It
84

makes sense, and is proper, to say that he is right if you, too

think promises ought to be kept.
It is important not to commit yourself to a theory which does
not allow anyone who thinks such things as that torture is wrong
not to be right or wrong in what he thinks. Otherwise one finds
oneself saddled with the view that the relation between your
opinion and his is symmetrical; he thinks one thing, and you
think another, and that is an end to it. I find it very difficult,
however, not to believe that I am right and he is wrong, and
certainly it makes sense to say this. But if moral judgements
were imperatives, it would be impossible to do justice to this
important fact. It would simply not make sense to suppose that
someone who disagreed with one might be wrong, and oneself
right; for it does not make sense to say of an imperative, or of the
person issuing one, that he is right at all.
It seems to me that the primary function of moral thinking is
to enable us to arrive at the right moral beliefs, and that our
moral beliefs are right if and only if, for example we (a) believe
that so-and-so ought to be done, and (b) it ought to be done. It
follows that this primary function of moral thinking could not be
performed if moral judgements were imperatives, because we
cannot say, of someone who has said, say, "Speak no evil", either
(a) that he believes "Speak no evil" or (b) that he is right if and
only if speak no evil. Hence it is important to establish that
moral judgements are not imperatives, for, if it does not make
sense to say that moral opinions are right or wrong, no one man's
moral opinions can be more nearly correct than another's, and
moral thinking is a waste of time.
The correct view of the relation between, say, "You ought to
 85

keep your promises" and "Keep your promises" is, 1 believe, this.
Since one normally says each of these in order to make someone
keep his promises, one usually cannot say the one, but the
opposite of the other, without being practicaUy inconsistent, i.e.
furthering a policy by saying the first which one is hindering by
saying the second. Since a policy is always adopted as a means to
an end, one need not be behaving in an inconsistent way if one
has unusual ends - for example, if one wants to confuse someone
or weaken him. And "You ought to keep your promises, but don't
keep them; the effort might be too much for you" is unusual, but
not exactly inconsistent, for not everybody is concerned so
exclusively about others' moral welfare as to make it inconsistent
to tell someone to do what one is at the same time telling him
ought to be done, (I shall show later that Professor Hare's view
that moral judgements imply imperatives must be mistaken,
because imperatives cannot be implied. His view that moral
judgements imply imperatives, together with another view of his,
that it is impossible to derive an imperative from a set of
premises which do not contain an imperative, (and a set of
premises which contains only one moral judgement and nothing
else would contain an imperative only if that moral judgement
was an imperative) implies that moral judgements are
imperatives.
It may also be the case that someone saying "Promises ought
to be kept is contextually implying that he has, or that he believes
he has, a disposition to issue imperatives to other people
enjoining promise-keeping upon them. (What is contextually
implied is not the imperative "Keep your promises", but that the
speaker has the disposition to issue such imperatives.) It follows
86

that someone who says "Men ought to keep their promises", but
does not have the disposition to issue imperatives such as "Keep
your promises", does not sincerely think that men ought to keep
their promises, as someone who says "It is raining", but does not
believe that it is raining, is being insincere. But the statement
that anyone saying "Promises ought to be kept" has the
disposition to issue imperatives enjoining promise-keeping must
be much qualified. For one might be disposed not to issue such
imperatives because on thinks that people have a right to go to
the devil in their own way, thinks that constantly telling them to
keep their promises may have the opposite effect to that which is
intended, or thinks that it is improper or unwise to issue
imperatives to others except in unusual circumstances.
In the following pages I give twenty-nine further reasons for
rejecting the theory that moral judgements are imperatives. The
jejune nature of some of them simply underlines the
implausibility of the view that is being attacked. As I have said, I
have as a subsidiary target the belief that there is such a thing as
imperative logic. Indeed, one argument against the view that
moral judgements are imperatives is simply this: there is no logic
in which the conclusions and premises are imperatives; therefore
moral judgements are not imperatives. The reasons for thinking
that moral judgements are not imperatives are as follows.
1. It is correct English to speak of moral judgements, not of
moral imperatives. A judgement is just a species of proposition or
statement the assertion of which involves judgement, good sense
or the ability to estimate, as opposed to involving apodeictic
proof, intuitive certainty, or accurate measurement.
2. We can have the same array of attitudes - i.e.,
 87

propositional attitudes - to the moral judgement that promises

ought to be kept as we can have to the statement that promises
are kept. We cannot have these attitudes to imperatives, or to
anything other than indicatives. We can consider moral
judgements without either believing or disbelieving them, believe
them, disbelieve them, wonder whether they are so or not, and so
on. One can believe or disbelieve that the door ought to be shut,
or wonder whether it ought to be shut, etc. One cannot, however,
believe or disbelieve "Shut the door" or wonder whether "Shut
the door".
3. Moral judgements, like propositions, may be asserted or
denied out loud. Imperatives cannot be asserted or denied. You
can assert or deny that the door ought to be shut, but you cannot
assert or deny "Shut the door".
4. It is doubtful whether there is anything in the imperative
mood analogous to such judgements as, say, that it is not wrong
to sleep with a woman to whom you are not married.
5. All the imperatives I can think of "apply to" (the
expression is not a good one) the person to whom they are
addressed (though sometimes they apply to other people as well).
The person addressed is the person being commanded, advised,
instructed, requested, etc. Where moral judgements (and other
indicatives) are concerned, this is not so. For I make remarks to
one man about what ought to be, or ought to have been, done by
another who may be I myself, or who may be far removed in
space and time from the person being addressed. I am not issuing
any imperative to the person to whom I am speaking, and cannot
be ordering or requesting or instructing or advising the man who
is the subject of my remark, for he is not there to hear.
88

6. Someone saying "Do A" is not telling his hearer what he

ought to do. He may be telling him what to do. "Telling"
someone something can be either telling him to, or telling him
that. Telling someone that consists in asserting a proposition
with a view to his edification. Saying "You ought to do A" is not
a case of telling someone to do A. It is, in fact, a case of telling
him that, i.e., that he ought to do A.
There are, it is true, utterances in the imperative mood
which are not cases of telling someone what to do. Telling
someone the way, for example, is neither telling him to nor
telling him that. Telling someone how to do something may
consist entirely in issuing imperatival utterances. It is obvious,
however, that anyone who is making a moral judgement cannot
be held to be issuing imperatives in order to tell someone how to
do something.
7. The imperative "Do A" is a response to the question
"What shall I do?" The statement "You ought to do A" is a
response to the question "What ought I to do?" Someone who
asks "What ought I to do?" and is told "Do A" will feel that his
question has not been answered. It is as if his respondent had said
"Never mind about what you ought to do. Just do what I tell
you." (My mother never replied directly to questions. If I were to
ask her the time, she would say something like "There's a clock
on the mantelpiece." Someone who answers the question "What
shall I do?" by saying "You ought to do A" is doing much the
same.)
8. Corresponding to the command "Shut the door" is the
expression "I order you to shut the door". Corresponding to the
request "Pass the salt" (which mayor may not be preceded by
 89

"please") is the expression "I request you to pass the salt".

Corresponding to the advice "Give up smoking" is the expression
"I advise you to give up smoking". The expression corresponding
to the moral injunction "You ought to give more to charity than
you do" is "I state (or I think) that you ought to give more to
charity than you do". "I state" and "I think that" are
appropriate to propositions or indicatives, not to imperatives.
When I issue a command, I am commanding; when I advise I
am advising; when I issue a request I am requesting. There is,
however, no name for what I am doing when I make a moral
judgement. This doubtless commendable activity is assimilated
into the heterogeneous mass of ways in which what I am doing
when I make an assertion can quite legitimately be described, e.g.
trying to persuade someone, trying to convince him, trying to
make him change his mind, getting him to do something,
educating him, and so on.
9. There are a large number of expressions by which moral
judgements such as that X ought to so A may be preceded. I can
think that it is certainly the case that X ought to do A, that
perhaps X ought to do A, that X probably ought to do A, and so
on. These expressions certainly cannot be succeeded by a form of
words expressing an imperative. Sentences expressing
propositions, however, can, and indeed must, follow these words.
It is especially difficult, as I have said, to see that an
imperativist can explain how, when I think that X ought to do A,
I can also think that I might be mistaken in thinking this. How
can one think that one is mistaken in thinking some such thing as
"Let no man omit this"? One can be mistaken in the required
sense only where one can believe, and imperatives cannot be
90

believed.
One can, of course, make mistakes in action as well as in
thought, and the former do not consist in having mistaken
beliefs. However, making a mistake in action cannot be what
holding a mistaken moral belief consists in. A mistaken action
may be produced by a mistaken belief, but it is not itself a
mistaken belief. One may be doing something mistaken when one
issues an imperative, and one may perform this mistaken action
because one has a mistaken belief that it is the right imperative
to issue, or that it will produce a desired result, or that to issue
that imperative is ordained but a given piece of ritual, but the
imperative itself, as opposed to the act of issuing it, cannot be
mistaken. Moral judgements, however, can be mistaken, as well
as its being possible for one's asserting one to be a mistake.
There can be reasons for thinking that one ought to do
such-and-such. There can be no reason for thinking (that) do
such and such. You cannot think do such and such, and a fortiori
cannot have reason for thinking "Do such-and-such".
Imperatives themselves do not belong to the category of things
for which there can be reasons. There can, of course, be reasons
for issuing imperatives, but moral judgements resemble
statements, in that they can be assessed both according to
whether there are reasons for (believing) them, and according to
whether there are reasons for asserting them out loud.
10. Moral judgements (sincere ones, at any rate) are moral
beliefs spoken out loud. Most moral beliefs are seldom, and
sometimes never, uttered. The imperative theory must have great
difficulty in explaining those moral beliefs which we do not
publish.
 91

Imperatives have to be enunciated; we can speak of unissued

commands, as we can of unborn children, but unissued commands
do not lead a surreptitious underground existence, any more than
do unfired shots. An unissued command is not a kind of
command any more than an accident that has never happened is
a kind of accident. Unissued imperatives can no more have effects
than unfired shots can (though the fact that we have not issued
an imperative can have an effect).
Unexpressed beliefs, however, are a kind of belief, and even
expressed beliefs continue to exist and have effects at intervals
between being expressed. This is true of moral beliefs, as it is of
any other kind of belief. I can think that promises ought to be
kept even when I am not commanding people to keep their
promises, or asserting that they ought to keep them, and even
when I am asleep.
This shows that moral beliefs, like other beliefs, are
dispositional. I do not know what account the imperativist can
give of that disposition in which having moral beliefs must
consist. To believe that promises ought to be kept cannot be to
be disposed to tell other people to keep their promises, for one
can (fortunately) have the belief without this disposition. Nor can
it be to be disposed to keep one's promises, for the same reason.
In any case to believe that promises ought to be kept could not
just be to be disposed to keep one's promises; it would have to be
to be disposed to keep them because one thinks that that is the
right thing to do. This an imperativist should think impossible,
for being right is not, according to him, a feature of the action
and so it can not be a feature which can attract anyone.
11. One large ingredient in believing a proposition is being
92

disposed to act in a way that would be successful in satisfying

one's wants, if that proposition were true. (I do not by using the
subjunctive intend to imply that the proposition in question is
not true.) For example, if you do not want to get wet, your
believing that water wets and that you will be immersed in water
if you stay where you are will be manifested in your not staying
where you are; this action would satisfy your want to stay dry if
these two beliefs were true. On the other hand, if you are
malicious enough to want to embarrass (or wet) your courtiers
more than you want to stay dry, the same belief may be
manifested in your staying where you are. Our actions are (or
would be, if we were rational) the products of our beliefs and our
desires. Given our desires, our actions will depend upon our
beliefs about what will satisfy them. Given our beliefs, our
actions will depend on the strength and direction of our desires.
It is not obvious to me that moral beliefs are an exception to
this account of belief. Given that 1 want to do what 1 ought
strongly enough, my actions will depend upon my beliefs about
what 1 ought to do. Given my beliefs about what I ought to do,
my actions will depend upon whether 1 want to do what 1 ought.
If 1 want to go to heaven, then my belief that if 1 do what 1
ought, I will go to heaven will manifest itself in my doing actions
which will get me to heaven if (a) I am right in thinking that 1
will to to heaven if 1 do what I ought and (b) 1 am right in
thinking that I am doing what 1 ought. I do not see what account
an imperativist can give of the aspect of moral belief, that it
consists partly in being disposed to act in manner that would be
successful if the belief in question were true. For according to an
imperativist, moral "beliefs" cannot be true (nor can I be right
 93

about them).
(One element of truth in the view that ought-judgements
must be action-guiding is that if it is true that a person ought to
do such-and-such in order to achieve some end that he wants,
there need be no extra motive for doing such and such, over and
above his wanting the end to which his doing such- and-such is
the means in order for him actually to do such- and-such.)
12. It has been held that only imperatives can be "action-
guiding"; beliefs are cold and inert, and cannot be. Moral
judgements, since they are action-guiding, must be imperatives,
and not beliefs.
This is the absolute reverse of the truth, however. Beliefs are
only inert when they do not inform me how to satisfy my desires.
Since there are desires to do what one ought, or to obtain those
ends which will result from doing what one ought, moral beliefs,
which are about what one ought to do, are not inert. Imperatives,
on the other hand, do not move us to action (unless perhaps
sometimes our obeying them is species of conditioned reflex);
what does move us is the belief that an imperative has been
issued, coupled with a desire to do what has been enjoined.
Advice, for example, does not by itself move us to action; what
moves us to action is the belief that we will lose something we
want if it is not followed. The fact that imperatives cannot move
us to action, though moral beliefs can, is reflected in the fact that
I cannot sensibly say "I did it because ... " where the gap in the
preceding sentence is filled in with an imperative, but I can say
"I did it because I thought I ought and wanted (for once) to do
what 1 (thought I) ought. (I can, of course, say that 1 did it
because someone had ordered me to, but this is an assertion
94

about an imperative, not an imperative.)

I find it still more difficult to see how imperatives addressed
to ourselves (which beliefs about what we ourselves ought to do
are sometimes thought to be) can move us to action, for one
thing because I cannot see how we can enforce them. In any case,
it would be the belief that they would be enforced that would be
moving us to action, not the imperative itself. It is in any case
difficult, as we have seen, to see how I can advise, instruct, direct
or request myself to do something (though Esther Summerson
succeeded in doing this all the time).
13. Professor Hare has held that the difference between
moral imperatives and other kinds of imperative is that the
former are universalisable, whereas the latter are not. My own
view is that only characteristics can be universalisable. To say
that a characteristic is universalisable is to say that, if anything
has this characteristic, then any other thing, precisely similar to
it in all respects other than possessing this characteristic, must
also resemble it in possessing this characteristic. Beauty, validity
and moral characteristics answer to this description. Since, if
imperativism were true, there would be no moral characteristics
(for, when we said that something was wrong we would not be
attributing a characteristic to it, but issuing an imperative
against doing it) there would then be nothing for the
universalisation principle to apply to. The universalisation
principle, therefore, (despite the fact that Hare, the most eminent
proponent of imperativism or something very like it, has ably
defended it) implies that moral judgements are indicatives.
One could say that, even if imperativism is true, the
universalisation principle still applies to morals, but in a
 95

modified form . One could argue that, if one says to one person
"Do A" and to another person "Do not do A" then one is being
inconsistent, in the sense of performing inconsistent actions, if
one believes that there is no difference between the two people,
the actions they are asked to perform, and the circumstances in
which they are both placed.
There are two difficulties with this contention. What is
inconsistent, and what it is inconsistent to say, are two entirely
different things. If I say "There were survivors" to my own
superior officer, but "There were no survivors" to an enemy
interrogating me, I am asserting inconsistent propositions, but
my saying one thing to one man and another thing to another
may be part of a perfectly consistent policy of telling the truth to
one's friends, but not to one's enemies. Though the propositions
asserted are inconsistent, the actions of asserting them are not.
It is fairly obvious that I am being inconsistent in the first
way (being theoretically inconsistent) rather than in the second
way (being practically inconsistent) if I say to one man that an
action is right, and to another man that the same action is
wrong, although I believe that there is no other difference
between these two actions such as to make the one right and the
other wrong. For, as we have seen, I need not be being practically
inconsistent at all in saying one thing to one person and its
contradictory to another. The first person may be my employer,
and the other my wife, and it may be important for me to keep
on good terms with both of them. Whether I am being
theoretically inconsistent will depend upon my beliefs about the
circumstances concerning the action judged of; whether I am
being practically inconsistent will depend upon my beliefs
96

concerning the circumstances in which I myself am placed. Hence

the alleged analogue of the universalisation principle, which
analogue, unlike the universalisation principle itself, would apply
to imperatives, is simply not correct.
It should not be forgotten that the universalisation principle
states that, if an action is right, then any other precisely similar
action performed in similar circumstances must also be right. It
does not state that any dissimilar action must be wrong. This is a
further reason for thinking that, if I say to one man II A is right II I
need not be practically inconsistent if I perform the different
action of saying to another man that B is wrong. From the fact
that it is right to say the first, nothing at all follows about
whether or not it is right to perform the dissimilar action of
saying the second.
14. Normally the same root "idea II can be expressed by a
sentence containing a verb in any mood. For example, the idea of
the door's being shut can occur in the indicative mood ("The
door is shut"), the imperative mood ("Shut the door"), the
subjunctive mood ("If the door were shut ... "), and also as an
interrogative ("ls the door shut?"). If imperativism is right,
moral ideas could occur only in imperatives. This, however, does
not seem to be true. "You ought to shut the door", "Do what you
ought and shut the door", IIIf it were the case that (note the
words lithe case that") you ought to shut the door, then ... " are
all possible, as is "Ought you to shut the door?"
15. Moral judgements are like propositions in the following
respect. If someone who says that more women survive into old
age than men has asserted something that is true, then at
whatever other time he says the same thing, and at whatever
 97

place he is when he says it, he must also be saying what is true.

The same is true of moral judgements. If anyone saying that
Brutus was wrong to assassinate Caesar is right about this, then
wherever he is when he repeats this remark, he will also be right.
The time and place at which a man is when he asserts a moral
judgement does not affect whether or not he is right about the
matter on which he is pronouncing (though it may sometimes
mean that he has to use different words in which to make one
and the same pronouncement).
There are, as is well known, difficulties about this principle,
even when applied to propositions. Though it may be true at one
time that more women survive into old age than men, it may be
true later that more men survive than women. I think this
difficulty can be overcome by distinguishing between propositions
and sentences. The sentence "More women survive than men"
enables its utterer to make a different assertion when used on
different occasions, but, if one of these assertions is true, anyone
making it again (though in different words) must also be saying
what is true. (There may be some difficulty in saying exactly the
same thing again, but this does not alter the fact that if the same
thing can be said again, and it was true the first time it was said,
it must also be true the second time it was Said.) This principle,
by using devices I have already discussed, can be stated without
using the word "true".)
This principle applies as much to moral judgements as to any
other. That killing people is absolutely always wrong is as neutral
with respect to time and place as is the mathematical judgement
that two and two are absolutely always four. That Brutus was
wrong to assassinate Caesar is as much neutral with respect to
98

time and place as is the judgement that Brutus was reluctant to

assassinate Caesar.
If anyone thinks that moral judgements do not have this
feature, it may be because he thinks that it follows from their
possessing it that an action cannot be right at one time, but
wrong at another, or right when performed in one place but
wrong when performed in another. This does not follow, however.
It is true that an action can be right when performed at one time
or place and wrong when performed at another time or place, but
here the word "an action" refers to classes of actions. What is
being said is that it is possible for one member of a class of
actions, performed at one time, to be right, and for a different
member of the same class of actions, performed at a different
time, to be wrong. This obviously is possible, because the
circumstances that obtain at different times may be very
different.
However, imperatives are not neutral with respect to time
and place in this way. "Let men love their neighbours as
themselves", for example, cannot have this feature, because it
cannot be said of anyone issuing it that he is right (because let
men not kill one another); this simply does not make sense.
Therefore it cannot be said that if anyone says "Let men love
their neighbours as themselves" on one occasion he must be right
when he says the same thing on any other occasion. (Statements
about imperatives, however, for example, the statement advice is
good advice, may have this feature which I have just ascribed to
moral judgements).
If I say after the Ides of March that what Brutus did was
wrong, then I am making the same statement that I was making
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when, before the Ides of March, I said that what Brutus was
going to do was going to be wrong. There is no form of words
which makes it possible usefully to repeat the imperative
"Brutus, do not assassinate Caesar" after Brutus has assassinated
Caesar.
16. Not only are moral judgements neutral with respect to
time and place: they also have the feature of being neutral with
respect to the person who asserts them. It does not matter who
asserts the moral judgement that killing people is wrong. If the
person who asserts it is right, any person who asserts the same
judgement (though not necessarily in the same words) must also
be right.
It is, of course, true that if two men both say "It is right for
me to drive on the left hand side of the road" one can be right
and the other wrong. This is because, though they are using the
same sentences, they are, since they are different people driving
in different countries, using them to make different assertions, so
there is no reason why what the first man says should not be
right, and what the second man says be wrong.
It is impossible for the condition (which is controversial) that
I have just stated to be fulfilled by imperatives, because it is
senseless to say of a person who issues one that he is right (or
wrong) at all. One can say that a man is right (or wrong) to issue
an imperative, but it is not even remotely plausible to say that, if
one man is right to issue an imperative, any other man issuing
the same imperative must be right to issue it. One may be
entitled to issue orders to one's own children that one is not
entitled to issue to anyone else's children.
The truth of what I have just said presupposes that the same
100

moral judgement dan be repeated by different people, even

though the words they use may have to be different (e.g. the
words "It will be right for me to assassinate Ceasar" used by
Brutus before the event, and "Brutus was right to assassinate
Caesar", used by a third party after it.) It is because of two
features of moral judgements, viz., that they can be expressed on
more than one occasion, and that, if the person who asserted
them on one occasion was right, anyone else asserting what is
genuinely the same moral judgement on a different occasion must
be right, that it is possible to hand on a stable set of moral beliefs
from generation to generation.
It is very difficult even to repeat an imperative on two
different occasions, or for two different people to issue exactly the
same imperative. If I say to John "Shut the door" on one
occasion, and say what is superficially same thing to George on
another occasion, what I am saying to John is "Oh John, you
shut the door within the next few minutes", and what I say to
George is "Oh George, you shut the door in the next few
minutes". Universal imperatives may resemble universal moral
judgements more closely than particular imperatives resemble
particular imperatives, but the latter difference is enough to show
that moral judgements are not imperatives.
17. It is another aspect of the interpersonal neutrality of
moral judgements, that it is a feature of them that if one man,
who asserts, say, that killing people is wrong, is right then
anyone asserting that killing people is not right must in that
event be wrong.
If they could both be right, I suppose it would follow that, if
the one who said that Brutus was wrong to assassinate Caesar
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said to the one who said that Brutus was right to assassinate
Caesar that he was right, he could be right. This would follow
from the general principle that, if I say of someone who says what
is right (or true) that what he said is right (or true) I must be
right (or what I say must be true). The remark IIThough Brutus
was wrong to assassinate Caesar, you, when you say that he was
not wrong to assassinate Caesar, are right II is absurd.
Furthermore, if I say to someone who has just said that
killing people is wrong that I agree with him, I cannot
consistently say that killing people is not wrong. If we could both
be right, however, it would not be inconsistent to say this.
Imperatives cannot have the above-mentioned feature,
because I cannot say to someone, who has just issued an
imperative, that I agree with him at all. If I do so, I imply that I
think that when he says this he is expressing an opinion which is
right. If I disagree with him, I am then saying that he is
expressing an opinion which is wrong. If one man says to another
"Shut the door II , it would be entirely inappropriate to reply "I
agree". One can say II Yes II , but this means IIYes, I will do what
you tell me toll, not "Yes, what you say is SOli. A man and his
wife can agree in the sense that what one wants them to do is
what the other wants them to do, but this is compatible with a
vast amount disagreement of opinion on academic matters,
(including moral matters, provided they do not attempt to put
different moral opinions about what they should do into
practice). Wanting the same thing, however, as opposed to
wanting them both to do the same thing, is a source of disagree-
ment rather than of agreement. If Jack Sprat and his wife had
wanted the same thing, e.g., lean, instead of one wanting lean
102

and the other wanting fat, they would have got on much less well
than they did.
It is a feature of moral judgements, which they share with
indicatives, that if a person has made a moral judgement, any
other person can either agree or disagree with that judgement. If
someone says, for example, that Brutus was wrong to assassinate
Caesar, anyone at all may agree with him or disagree with him,
and say that he does. That is to say, anyone at all can say "Yes,
I agree", when someone has made a moral judgement. Only the
person to whom an imperative is addressed, however, can say
"Yes, I will do what you ask" or, alternatively, "Shan't".
18. Moral judgements and imperatives have different
contextual implications. My commanding someone contextually
implies that I have or believe that I have power or authority over
him. My requesting someone contextually implies that he is or
that I believe that he is in a position to do something that I want
him to do. My advising someone contextually implies that I am
or believe I am in some respect wiser, or possess more expertise,
than he does. Neither making statements nor making moral
judgements has these contextual implications. I can say to
someone "You ought to keep that promise" without contextually
implying that I believe I have power or authority over him, that I
believe that I am wiser than he is, or that I believe that he has
power to do something that I want him to do. (Contextual
implication differs from ordinary implication in that what does
the contextual implying is my saying something, not what I say.
It is my saying "It is raining" that implies that I believe it is
raining, so that I believe it is raining can be false, even though
that it is raining is true. Hence my issuing an imperative can
 103

have contextual implications even though the imperative I issue

cannot have ordinary non-contextual implications . We shall see
why an imperative (unlike a moral jUdgement) cannot have
ordinary non-contextual implications shortly.
19. I should myself be prepared to argue, with some
reservation, that since the principle of bivalence applies to moral
judgements, but not to imperatives, moral judgements cannot be
a species of imperative, but must be indicatives. That you ought
to keep your promises is either true or false; keep your promises
is neither. (Strictly speaking, I should say that moral judgements
are as likely to be true or false as factual statements are. If that
there is no king of France implies that it is neither true nor false
that the king of France is bald, than, presumably, it also implies
that it is neither true nor false that he is wicked, and ought to be
guillotined. )
It is necessary to distinguish between two contentions, that
moral judgements cannot properly have the "predicates" "true"
or "false" applied to them, and that they can, but are neither
true nor false in fact. If the conceptual claim, that that the king
of France is bald can be neither true nor false, is true, and if the
further claim that it will be neither true nor false if there is no
king of France is also true, then that this proposition is neither
true nor false is just an empirical fact (because it is just an
empirical fact that there is no king of France). It is quite
different from the obviously false conceptual claim that that the
king of France is bald cannot properly be said to be true or false.
It is the claim that what moral sentences express cannot properly
to be said either to be true or to be false that we are interested
in, not the different claim (perhaps it is the one made by Mackie,
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though, if so, he is not clear about it) that a moral judgement's

being neither true nor false is a third conceptual possibility, in
addition to their being true and being false, and that this third
possibility is the one that actually obtains. Those who think that
moral sentences express imperatives rather than propositions
must maintain that it is incoherent to say either that moral
judgements are true or that they are false.
Many philosophers, in reply to the argument that I have just
used, would simply say that the principle of bivalence does not
apply to moral judgements. I shall therefore argue that the law of
the excluded middle also applies to moral judgements, as to other
indicatives, but not to imperatives. If you substitute a sentence
expressing a moral judgement for the variables in the schema lip
v -p" you get a result that both makes sense and is true; if you
substitute an imperative sentence you get a result which does not
make sense, and to which it would be incoherent to ascribe truth.
That either you ought to keep your promises or you ought not to
keep your promises is true. "Keep your promises or don't keep
your promises", though not false, cannot be said to be true
without an abuse of English. (The view, that moral judgements
like "You ought to keep your promises" cannot be true or false,
must be distinguished from the (less plausible) view that
judgements like "Either you ought to keep your promises or you
ought not to keep your promises" cannot be true or false.
Analogously, some philosophers have wished to say that
propositions about the future like "There will be a sea battle
tomorrow" are neither true nor false, without wishing to say that
propositions like "Either there will be a sea battle tomorrow or
there will not be as sea battle tomorrow" are neither true nor
 105

false.)
One might wish to argue that, though the principle of
bivalence does not apply to imperatives, an analogue of that
principle does. Just as every proposition is either true of false, so
every imperative must be either satisfied or not satisfied. (I am
using the word "satisfied" to cover a heterogeneous collection of
actions like obeying a command, complying with a request,
taking advice, following instructions, etc., though in what follows
I shall for the sake of simplicity sometimes consider only
obedience or disobedience to commands.)
This analogy with the principle of bivalence is not as close as
it might seem, however. Every proposition, whether asserted or
not, is an instance of the principle of bivalence. I doubt very
much, however, whether there are such things as uncommanded
commands. It seems as difficult to hold that there are commands
which have never been issued as it is to hold that there are
headaches that no-one has ever had. If there were, every
individual, every moment of his life, would either be obeying or
disobeying an infinite number of unexpressed commands, just as,
every moment of his life, he is the subject of an infinite number
of unasserted true of false propositions. But though it is true of
me that either I am sitting in my chair or true of me that I am
not sitting in my chair, it is not the case that I am either obeying
the command "Sit in your chair" or disobeying it. Even if there
were unissued commands, as there are unasserted propositions,
unasserted propositions can be true or false, but unissued
commands cannot be obeyed or disobeyed.
Furthermore, what is the analogy with the principle of
bivalence, even when it is limited to issued imperatives? Is it the
106

statement that every (issued) imperative is either obeyed or

disobeyed, or the statement that every (issued) imperative is
either obeyed or not obeyed? The first of these is false, though
the second is true. There is more to obeying or disobeying an
imperative than just performing or not performing the action
enjoined. If I am walking down the street, and someone shouts to
me "Carryon walking", and I do, I am not obeying his command
if I would have done the same in any case. If someone shouts
loudly in my ear "Wince", and I do, I am not obeying his
command if my wincing was a reflex reaction to his shouting.
Hence these commands are neither obeyed nor disobeyed. It is
true, however, that they are not obeyed. I suspect that the
analogy with the principle of bivalence is the statement that
every command is either obeyed or disobeyed, and this statement
is not true. Nor is anything analogous true of other species of
imperatives. In any case, moral judgements are not just governed
by an analogy with the principle of bivalence; they are (with the
reservation mentioned above) ruled by that principle itself.
20. Moral judgements, like propositions, may be substituted
for the variables in any of the formulae of the classical calculus of
propositions, not just the formula "p v -p" . For example you
may substitute "Promises ought to be kept" for the variables in
the formula "p ~ p", and get the result "If promises ought to be
kept, promises ought to be kept", which makes sense and is,
indeed, true. One generally cannot substitute imperatives for the
variables in the same formulae. "If don't break your promises,
don't break your promises", for example, does not make sense.
The same is the case for most other formulae in the propositional
calculus.
 107

Though "If don't shut the door, don't shut the door" does
not make sense, "Either shut the door or don't shut the door"
does. The formula in the calculus of propositions that the first
allegedly instantiates, however, (the formula "p -+ p") is
equivalent to the formula the second allegedly instantiates
(pv-p).
This anomaly is only apparent, however. If we use the
artificial expression "make it the case that", "Make it the case
that if the door is shut the door is shut", is equivalent to "Make
it the case that either the door is shut or the door is not shut".
This suggests that if p, then do A, is not of the form "Make it the
case that if p then q" but of the form "If p, then make it the case
that q." "If p, then do A" does not normally "command a
conditional" (p -+ q) so to speak, but conditionally commands a
categorical (q). This is why "If p, do A" (make it the case, if p,
that q) is not equivalent to "Do -A or B" (make it the case that
-p v q). "Either -p, or make it the case that q" does not even
make sense. Any expression of the form "Make it the case that pIt
is equivalent to any expression of the form "Make it the case that
q" if p can be shown to be equivalent to q by means of the
calculus of propositions. At least, what we are being told to make
the case is equivalent.
In this respect hypothetical imperatives (not hypothetical
im perati ves in Kant's sense) resemble hypothetical predictions,
e.g., "If it rains, England will win". Here I have not committed
myself to anything true or false if the antecedent is false. I use a
form of words which is such that I am committed to something
(England's winning) only if the "antecedent" is true. If I am
arguing with someone else, who thinks that England will lose if it
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rains, neither of us is right and neither is wrong if it does not

rain. Hypothetical imperatives also resemble hypothetical
promises; if a man promises his child a picnic if she has been
good, he has neither kept his promise (if he gives her a picnic)
nor broken it (if he does not) if she has not been good. The
clearest case of this distinction that I can think of is the case of
hypothetical bets; making one is manifestly different from betting
categorically on the truth of a hypothetical. Betting that England
will win if it rains (where one has neither lost nor won one's bet if
it does not rain) is quite different form betting that an alleged
conclusion can be deduced from certain premises (i.e., that if the
premises are true, the conclusion is true) where one can win one's
bet even if the premises are not true because the hypothetical
that, if the premises are true, the conclusion must be true, is or is
not true.
Moral judgements are not like hypothetical "imperatives"
(Le., hypothetical commands, advice, requests or instructions) or
like hypothetical predictions, hypothetical promises or hypo-
thetical bets. Someone saying that if Smith has a wife he ought to
keep her is committing himself to a hypothetical, not committing
himself conditionally to its consequent. He can be right about
thinking that, if Smith does have a wife, he ought to keep her,
even if Smith does not have a wife. It is perfectly in order to
discuss whether Smith's having a wife would give rise to an
obligation on his part to keep her. The question whether this
hypothetical judgement is true arises whether or not Smith has a
wife. Hence hypothetical moral judgements do not resemble
hypothetical imperatives. Quite apart from the fact that they can
be true or false, and hypothetical imperatives cannot, they can be
 109

true when their antecedents are false, whereas hypothetical

imperatives can be obeyed (or satisfied) only if their antecedents
are true.
21. There can be arguments the components of which are all
moral judgements, but no arguments the components of which
are all imperatives. For example "If you ought to help him, you
certainly ought to help her; you ought to help him; so you ought
to help her" is a perfectly good argument. "If help him, help her;
help him; so help her" is a piece of gibberish. One reason for this
is that for a hypothetical argument to be possible, it must be
possible to affirm its antecedent in the minor premise. But "help
him", when it is the "antecedent" of the major premise, is not a
proposition, and so it is not being affirmed when it occurs in the
minor premise. Another reason is that the major premise "If help
him, help her" does not make sense. If it seems to make sense, it
is because it is being confused with "If you help him, help her" .
But "If you help him, help her", help him; therefore help her
- which is also a piece of gibberish - is not a hypothetical
argument, because its alleged minor premise, "Help him", does
not reiterate the antedecent of the major premise, which
~ntecedent is not imperative, but (as all antecedents must be)
indicative. It is true that the imperatives ItIf you help him, help
her" and "Help him" are so interlocked that if you obey the
second, you fulfill that condition which then makes the first
applicable. But this is not to say that you can deduce the
conclusion "Help her" from the premises stated.
This may perhaps be more easily seen if you consider that an
argument can be valid only if the assertion, that its premises
imply its conclusion, is necessarily true. Moral arguments, like
110

arguments that are agreed to involve indicatives, fulfill this

condition. "If, if you ought to help him, you ought to help her,
and you ought to help him, then you ought to help her" is a
necessary truth. But alleged imperative arguments do not fulfill
it. "If, if help him help her, and help him, then help her", so far
from expressing a necessary truth, is a piece of nonsense.
22. Hypothetical moral judgements, like hypothetical
propositions, contrapose, whereas hypothetical commands,
requests, etc, do not. That if Smith has promised, he ought to go,
is equivalent to that if it is not the case that Smith ought to go,
then he has not promised. But "Go, if you have promised", would
become "If don't go, you haven't promised", which is a piece of
nonsense. (The expression "If you are not to go, you haven't
promised", which does make sense, surreptitiously substitutes a
proposition about a command for a command as the antecedent
of the alleged contrapositive.) It is worth pointing out that it
would be difficult to state the fact that moral judgements
contrapose if we were not allowed to use such expressions as "it is
not the case that" or "false" or moral judgements, which
imperativists think we ought not to do.
23. There are no imperative arguments, whereas there are
moral arguments. There are arguments with moral judgements as
premises. Hence moral judgements, like other indicatives, can be
conclusions; imperatives cannot. One can conclude that the door
is shut, or that it ought to be shut, but one cannot conclude
"Shut the door" or conclude that shut the door. The expression
"I conclude 'Shut the door''', does not make sense; nor does the
expression "I conclude that don't".
One can say "So shut the door" and "Therefore shut the
 111

door" and "Shut the door because "but the function of the
words "so", "therefore" and "because" is not in this context to
indicate that "Don't shut the door" is a conclusion. They have
some other function, which philosophers have confused with that
of indicating that what follows them is a conclusion.
24. Not only can imperatives not be conclusions. they
cannot be premises either, whereas moral judgements can be
premises. This follows because (a) they cannot be true, and
because a fortiori (b) they cannot imply anything in such a
manner that it can be truly said that if they are true, their
alleged implicates are true. If one wishes to say that moral
judgements cannot be true, it must be pointed out that they can
be reiterated, and that if they are reiterated, their conclusions
may be reiterated. For example, you can say "if it is Sunday, I go
to church, and it is Sunday", instead of saying "It is true that it
is Sunday" . Imperatives, as we have seen, cannot be re-iterated.
Since imperatives cannot imply anything at all in the
required sense, they can imply neither other imperatives nor
indicatives, in that sense of "imply" in which the premises of a
valid argument imply its conclusion.
It may be instructive to consider a case where it has been
held that imperatives do imply indicatives. A king says to one of
his courtiers "If you are a faithful subject kneel down; but rise
up". From this it has been supposed to follow that the courtier in
question is not a faithful subject.
Even if the king had uttered the indicatives "If you are
innocent you will not drown", and "You will drown" one would
not be able to conclude from his saying these things that the man
addressed is guilty. You would be prepared to deduce this
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conclusion only from the truth of what the king said, not from,
his saying it. If you conclude that the man in question is not
innocent, you deduce this from facts which the king has
communicated to you, and which you accept on his authority. In
the alleged example of imperative argument mentioned above,
the king's remarks cannot be true. Hence the king cannot
transmit to anyone else something true which this other person
can then proceed to use as the premises of an argument .
Imperatives do not enable people to transmit premises.
Where indicatives (including moral) judgements are
concerned, it makes no difference who has communicated to us a
piece of information which we use in order to draw our
conclusion. In the celebrated example where one man (a priest)
says that his first penitent was a murderer, and another man says
that he was the priest's first penitent, it does not matter that the
two pieces if information which we use as our premises have been
given us by different people; we arrive at our conclusion just the
same.
However, if one man tells me to shut the door, and another
man tells me to open the window if I shut the door, what can I
conclude? The most one can "conclude", so far as I can see, is the
indicative that if one obeys the first man's command, and shuts
the door, one will then be disobeying the second man's command
if one does not then open the window. (I do not conclude this
from these commands, but from the fact that these commands
have been issued, which I know because I heard them being
issued.) If, however, both commands are issued by the same man,
one's conclusion is different (though one's conclusion is not
different if indicatives have been issued by the same man or
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different men). My conclusion is then that if I obey this man's

first command and shut the door I will be disobeying his second
command if I do not open the window. Imperatives do not have
that feature, which is an important characteristic of indicatives,
of being neutral in this way with respect to the person who issues
them. Moral judgements, however, have the same implications,
regardless of who it is who has communicated them to us.
25. Another feature of indicative arguments involving
propositions rather than imperatives is that it is possible to
distinguish between a valid argument and a proof by saying that,
if an argument proves its conclusion, its premises must not only
imply its conclusion, but also be true. Since imperatives cannot
be true, it would, if there were imperative arguments, be
impossible to distinguish between a valid argument and a proof.
Even if it were the case that one could not use "true" of the
premises of moral judgements, it would still not be the case that
no-one could reiterate their premises.
26. If there were imperative arguments, they would require
an analogue of entailment, and an analogue of truth. These
analogues must fulfill the condition, that if the analogue of
entailment holds between the "premises" and the "conclusion" of
any argument which has imperatives among its premises or an
imperative conclusion, then, if the imperatives in its premises
possess the analogue of truth (and any indicatives among its
premises are true) then the conclusion must be true (if it is an
indicative) or possess the analogue of truth (if it is an
imperative). (An analogue of truth, instead of truth, is necessary
because imperatives cannot be true, and an analogue of
entailment, instead of just entailment, is necessary if entailment
114

has to be defined by saying that the truth of the conclusion

follows from the truth of the premises.)
I myself am not convinced that it is possible to find such
analogues. It is worth pointing out that even if it were possible,
there would still be no reason to think that moral judgements
were imperatives. For moral arguments do not need an analogue
of entailment and an analogue of truth. Their premises can entail
their conclusions, and their conclusions do sometimes follow from
their premises. But if alleged imperative arguments have not
even an analogue of entailment and truth, then moral judgements
are even less like imperatives than they would be if there were
such analogues.
27. Satisfaction (Le., obedience, if the imperative is a
command, being followed if the imperative is advice, etc.,) has
been suggested as the analogue of truth. It does indeed look as if
it might be a satisfactory analogue, because it looks as if there
could be such arguments as: Take all the boxes to the station;
that is a box; so take that to the station. It seems that if that
command which is the major premise is satisfied (and the minor
premise is true), then that command which is the conclusion
must also be satisfied. We shall see shortly that this is not so.
But in any case satisfaction is a poor analogue of truth. That a
proposition should be true is a point in its favour, but that a
command should be obeyed, a request complied with, directions,
instructions or recipes followed or advice taken, depends to a
large extent on the weakness of stupidity of the person doing
these things. Satisfaction, in fact, is more like belief than it is like
truth.
Being satisfactory is better than being actually satisfied as a
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candidate for being that characteristic which is handed on from

"premises" to "conclusion" in an imperative "inference". Advice,
presumably, is satisfactory if taking it is a satisfactory means to
the ends of the person advised. If taking advice is a satisfactory
means to a person's end, then this (like being true, but unlike
being actually taken, which resembles only being believed) is a
point in its favour. It looks as if, if taking advice is a satisfactory
means to the ends of the person to whom it is given then
anything "entailed" by that advice (i.e., any action which is such
that 1 would not be following that advice were 1 not to perform
it) must also be a satisfactory means to those ends. Again, if
adopting a certain policy is a satisfactory means of attaining a
given end, this too is a point in its favour, and it may also be
that if a policy is a satisfactory means to its holder's ends, then
anything "entailed" by that policy must also be a satisfactory
means to its holder'S ends. But if a satisfactory way, because the
only way, to avoid defeat is to shoot the enemy agent, and the
only way to shoot the agent would be to shoot all the prisoners,
and shooting all the prisoners entails shooting Smith, then it
would follow that shooting Smith is a satisfactory way of
avoiding defeat, which looks odd. (I am not convinced, however,
that its looking odd is anything more than an appearance due to
the fact that the statement that the policy is satisfactory has
contextual implications which the statement that what is
"entailed" by it is satisfactory does not).
However, 1 do not wish to maintain that there is no
characteristic - satisfactoriness is the most satisfactory candidate
- which can be handed on from some imperatives to others, nor
that studying the rules by which it is transferred is not a proper
116

occupation for logicians. What I am convinced of is that, even if

there is such a characterist, there still cannot be imperative
arguments, in the sense in which there can be indicative
arguments. From the fact, which is a fact about an imperative
rather than an imperative itself, that an imperative is
satisfactory, it may follow that other imperatives which it
involves are also satisfactory. And it is presumably because of the
connections between these imperatives themselves that this is so.
But this is not at all to say that you deduce the other
imperatives from the first, as you can deduce one proposition
(including moral judgements) from another. To suppose this
would be like supposing that , because one can deduce that all
Greeks are mortal from the fact that all men are mortal and all
Greeks are men only because of the connection (class inclusion)
between the three classes involved, therefore one can deduce the
class of Greeks from the class of men. There can be deduction
only where there can be premises and conclusions, and we have
seen that imperatives can be neither. It follows that, whatever
characteristic is handed on from some imperatives to others, it is
not a characteristic which allows us to draw an imperative
conclUSion, or to derive any conclusions at all from imperative
premises. (One can, of course, draw conclusions from the fact
that an imperative has been issued.) If satisfactoriness can be
handed on from one imperative (or set of imperatives) to another,
the logic in which this is exhibited is a logic of indicatives about
these imperatives, stating that if some imperatives are
satisfactory, then others are so too. And if there are any extra
rules above those of propositional calculus, as there are rules of
deontic logic, these rules would be about indicatives. Moral
 117

arguments, however, resemble ordinary propositional arguments

in that one does draws a conclusion from certain premises.
If I am right in thinking that there can not be imperative
logic in the required sense, i.e., one with imperative premises and
conclusions, it follows that Professor Hare is right in thinking
that you cannot derive an imperative conclusion from a set of
premises which do not themselves contain an imperative; but this
follows trivially from the fact that there cannot be imperative
conclusions at all.
28. Not only is there no analogue of truth where imperative
argument is concerned, there is no analogue of implication either.
Imperatives cannot imply other imperatives in the relevant way,
any more than assertions can imply other assertions. p -+ q may
entail -q -+ -p, but that A asserted p -+ q does not entail that A
asserted -q -+ -po Similarly, that A commanded me to take all
the boxes to the station, and this is a box, does not entail that A
commanded me to take this box to the station. Imperatives like
assertions (i .e., acts of asserting) are distinct and separate from
one another. No one assertion can entail a different assertion,
even though what is asserted by the one implies what is asserted
by the other. Similarly, the imperative "Take all the boxes to the
station" cannot entail the imperative "Take this box to the
station", for the utterance of the former does not entail that the
latter imperative has even been issued.
For the same reason the hypothetical imperative "Take your
umbrella if it rains", coupled with the fact that it does rain, does
not entail the categorical imperative "Take your umbrella". This
imperative, too, has never been issued. Imperatives are in this
respect also like assertions. "He said that England would win if it
118

rained" and "It rained" does not entail that he said that England
would win. What he has done is to say something (i.e. some one
thing) which is such that if it does rain and England does not win
it is false. Parallel to this is the fact that someone who says
"Take all the boxes to the station" has issued an imperative
which is such that, if this is a box and this has not been taken to
the station, it has been disobeyed. Someone who says "Take your
umbrella if it rains" has issued an imperative which is such that
if it does rain, and the person commanded has not taken his
umbrella, it has been disobeyed. The function of logic here is to
work out what counts as obeying (or complying with), and what
counts as disobeying, this one imperative. There is no question of
a different imperative, e.g. the imperative "Take your umbrella",
following from it. For this reason obedience cannot be handed on
from "premises" to conclusion of an alleged imperative argument.
For though an unasserted proposition may be true, an unissued
imperative cannot be obeyed (or complied with, or whatever).
What I have just been saying does not apply to moral
judgements. "All husbands ought to support their wives" and
"Smith is a husband" do together entail "Smith ought to support
his wife", and "If Mary has a child, she should look after it"
together with "Mary does have a child" do entail that she ought
to look after it . It is entirely irrelevant whether anyone has
asserted the moral judgement in question or not .
I do not, however, wish to say that logic is irrelevant to
imperatives. I have said that you cannot conclude "Take this box
to the station" from "Take all the boxes to the station, and this
is one of the boxes". What you can do is, from hearing someone
saying to you "Take all the boxes to the station" conclude that
 119

one is to take all the boxes to the station, and then argue that,
since this is one of the boxes, one is to take this box to the
station. (Actually, I do not think that one can even conclude this.
All I think one can conclude is the subtly different fact that this
is one of the boxes which one is to take to the station.)
Again, one cannot conclude "beat him" from "Beat him if he
sneezes", and the fact that he has sneezed. What one may
conclude from the facts that one has been told to beat him if he
sneezes and he has sneezes, is that one is to beat him. (One
cannot conclude that one has been told to beat him, for this
categorical command has not been issued.)
Where moral judgements are concerned, as with other
indicatives, one can conclude that one ought not to kill Smith
from the fact that one ought not to kill people, and Smith is a
person. One concludes this directly, from "One ought not to kill
people", not from the fact that someone has said "One ought not
to kill people".
Logic is also relevant to imperatives in the sense that some
imperatives are incompatible with others, and some imperatives
make others redundant. If I assert that all men are mortal, there
is no logical need (though there may be a psychological one) for
me to assert of Smith, a man, that he is mortal. Similarly, if I tell
someone to take all the boxes to the station, there is no need to
tell him also to take this box to the station. The first proposition
and the first command make the second proposition and the
second command redundant. Again, just as, if I assert that all
men are mortal and that Socrates is a man, I cannot consistently
assert that Socrates is not mortal, so, if I tell all the men in the
room to stop smoking, I cannot consistently permit Smith (a man
120

in the room) not to smoke, still less order him to smoke.

The redundancy and the inconsistency of indicatives,
however, is different from the redundancy and the inconsistency
of the imperatives. For in those cases where asserting some
propositions makes asserting other propositions redundant, this
does not imply that it makes it (logically) unnecessary to assert
them. This would be allowed for simply by the fact that the
proposition that all men are mortal is false if Smith is not also
mortal, as the imperative "Don't smoke", addressed to all the
men in the room is being disobeyed if Smith does not smoke.
Where propositions are concerned, one can, from the information
that all men are mortal and that Socrates is a man, conclude that
Socrates is mortal. But from "Don't smoke", addressed to all the
men in the room, and the proposition that Smith is a man in the
room" one cannot conclude, "Smith don't smoke", or even
"Smith may not smoke". Where moral judgements are concerned,
however, one can, from that no men ought to kill and that Smith
is a man, conclude "Smith ought not to kill".
29. If there can be no arguments with imperative premises
or with imperative conclusions, then, a fortiori, there can be no
arguments with imperative premises and an imperative
conclusion. One alleged imperative inference which has attracted
a good deal of attention, as it has been supposed to be a case of
an argument which has an imperative premises and an imperative
conclusion, both of which I believe to be impossible, is the
following: "Post the letter or burn it; don't burn it; therefore post
it." Over and above the failings of all imperative inferences -
e.g. , the fact that "I conclude post it" does not make sense, the
fact that you cannot put its premises and its conclusion into the
 121

gaps in the schema "If ... , then ... " and get a result which is
necessarily true, or even makes sense, and the fact that there is
no way of distinguishing between its being a valid inference and a
proof by saying something analogous to what one certainly can
say about an indicative inference, viz., that not only does its
conclusion follow from its premises, its premises are also true,
there are other defects as well.
The main one is that its minor premise does not contradict
one of the disjuncts in a disjunctive command, as the minor
premise in the allegedly analogous indicative inference, the
modus tollendo tollens, contradicts one of the disjuncts in the
disjunctive major premise. It is, indeed, incompatible with this
command. This is because posting-the-Ietter-or-burning-it is
the intentional object of the command, which intentional object
is, so to speak, single and indivisible. Whereas what is asserted in
the major premise of the modus tollendo tollens is that there are
two things you can do, post the letter on the one hand or burn it
on the other, there are three things you can command, posting
the letter, burning it, and indifferently posting it or burning it.
Commanding any of these three things is incompatible with any
other. Hence issuing the command analogous to the minor
premise in the corresponding indicative argument does not, as it
does in the indicative version of the modus tollendo ponens, deny
one of two possibilities and so make necessary the truth of the
other. For in the command to post the letter or burn it there are
not two possibilities, but one disjunctive one. Hence anyone who
first says: "Post the letter or burn it" and then says "Don't burn
it" has done something that someone who first says "The letter is
burnt or posted; the letter is not burnt, therefore the letter is
122

posted" has not done, i.e., changed his mind. Since he has
changed his mind, he must have withdrawn the original
command "Post the letter or burn it", and hence one cannot infer
that one is disobeying any command which remains in force if one
does not post the letter.
In this respect, incidentally, moral judgements resemble
commands. The statement (a) that one has a duty to burn-
the-book~r-post-it, it does not matter which (O(p v q)), would
be incompatible with the statement (b) that one has a duty to
burn the book (Op), and with the statement (c) that one has a
duty to post it. This is because (a) does not entail that you would
not be doing your duty if you posted the book nor that you would
not be doing your duty if you burnt it, while (b) does entail that
you would not be doing your duty if you posted it, and (b) entails
that you would not be doing your duty if you burnt it. Hence
anyone trying to argue: You have a duty to post it or burn it,
you do not have a duty to burn it, therefore you have a duty to
post it, would be using a minor premise, and coming to a
conclusion, both of which were incompatible with his major
premise. It may be that this alleged argument has been regarded
as satisfactory because it has been confused with the perfectly
valid argument: Either you have a duty to post it or you have a
duty to burn it (Op v Oq); you do not have a duty to burn it
(--op); therefore, you have a duty to post it. The major premise
of this latter argument is a genuine disjunctive proposition, not
an atomic proposition attributing to someone a disjunctive duty.
The element of truth in the view that: post the letter or burn
it; don't post it, therefore burn it, is a valid argument is that the
person to whom these commands are addressed (or, indeed, any
 123

other person) can deduce something from the statement that they
have been issued, which he knows to be true because he heard
them being issued; he can deduce that the only way in which the
person addressed can do what has been enjoined by both
commands is by posting the letter. But again, he deduces this
indicative conclusion not from the imperatives, but from
propositions stating that these imperatives have been issued.
I pOinted out earlier that, though one could not say "I
conclude burn the letter" (or "I conclude take that box to the
station") one could say "Therefore post the letter" or "So post
the letter" or "Post the letter because .. . " I shall now explain
why this is so. I believe that the reason is of considerable
importance. It is that, though when I say "conclude that" I am
indicating that I have been giving reasons for coming to the
conclusion that something or other is so, when I precede "Post
the letter" with "so" or "therefore", or follow it with "because", I
am not giving a reason for concluding that anything is so, or
even, impossibly, for "concluding an imperative", but giving
reasons for an action, the action enjoined by the imperative.
When I say "So post the letter" or "Therefore post the letter" or
"Post the letter because ... " I am not indicating that I am giving
reasons for the imperative "Post the letter", but for the action of
posting the letter. If, impossibly, the reasons that precede the
words "Post the letter" were reasons for a conclusion at all, then
the conclusion would be an action - Aristotle thought actions
could be conclusions - rather than a proposition or imperative.
Even when I say "If you ought to do it, do it, and you ought to
do it" I have not given reasons for the imperative "Do it" , but for
the action of doing it.
124

Hence all alleged imperative arguments, such as "Post the

letter or burn it; don't burn it; therefore post it" are in fact quite
absurd. For such things as "Post the letter or burn it" and
"Don't burn it" cannot possibly be reasons for posting it. The
only things that can be reasons for posting it are in fact
propositions (and true ones at that) such as that it is unlikely to
get to its destination if it is not posted, and that you will not get
the reply you want unless your correspondent hears from you.
Hence, though "Don't burn the letter" cannot be a reason for
posting it, the proposition that I have been told not to burn the
let ter can be.
Since only propositions can be given as reasons for actions, it
follows that, so far from Hare's being right in thinking that an
expression such as "post the letter" cannot be derived from
indicatives only, indicatives are the only things by which such
expressions as "Post the letter" can be properly be preceded. The
reason for this, very roughly, is that, given that the agent has
certain ends, propositions (but not imperatives) tell him how
these ends are to be realised. For example, that a train arrives at
the station at 3.30 is a reason for going to the station at 3.30 if I
want to catch it. That Grimbly Hughes is the largest grocer in
Oxford is not, even in conjunction with the imperative "If you
want to go to the largest grocer in Oxford, go to Grimbly
Hughes", a reason the the imperative "Go to Grimgly Hughes",
but a reason (it you want to go to the largest grocer in Oxford)
for going to Grimbly Hughes. The reason, therefore, why
"therefore" and "so" can precede "post the letter", but "I
conclude" can not, is that "I conclude" can precede only
propositions (and only they can be conclusions) and indicate that
 125

reasons have been given for the proposition, but "therefore" and
"so" can precede either propositions or imperatives. When "so"
and "therefore" precede imperatives, however, they are not
reasons for the imperative, as the unwary might suppose, but for
the action enjoined, advised, recommended or directed by it.
It does not, however, follow from the fact that, when we issue
an imperative, and back it up with reasons, we are giving reasons
for the action enjoined by the imperative, not for the imperative
itself, that moral judgements are not imperatives. This is
because, when we way that an action ought not to be done, and
back this statement up with reasons, we are also giving reasons
for an action, the action we say ought to be done. But, in the
case of judgements about what ought to be done, at any rate, the
reasons which back up such judgement are also reasons for the
action which it is said ought to be done. For example, if I say to
Smith that he ought to visit his aunt, because he promised he
would, that he promised he would is just as much a reason for the
action of visiting his aunt, as the reasons which precede the
imperative, "Visit your aunt" are reasons for the action. (It may
be just for this very reason that some modern moral epistemo-
logists have supposed, wrongly, that moral judgements are indeed
imperatives, or something like them.) But that he promised he
would is a reason for thinking that Smith ought to visit his aunt,
as well as for his visiting his aunt, whereas there can be no such
things as reasons for "Visit your aunt". To say that there were
would be to utter a piece of gibberish.
The only way I can think of to explain this apparently
anomalous fact is by saying that what ought-judgements state is
just that there are reasons, of good reasons, or conclusive reasons,
126

for the action which it is said ought to be done, or that there are
better reasons for doing it than for omitting it. (I am not sure
which of these would be correct.) To say that I ought to move
my pawn to QR4 is just to say that there are good or conclusive
reasons for moving my pawn to QR4. 1 show that such
judgements are true, then, just by showing that there are good
reasons for the action of moving my pawn, which I really do by
producing the reasons.
One must then look not for reasons for the judgement, but
reasons for the action. To suppose that that 1 promised I would is
an immediate (and academic) reason for believing that 1 ought to
go, rather than an immediate reason for going (and so, mediately,
a reason for believing that 1 ought to go) is to make a mistake.
On the other hand, to suppose that ought judgements are
imperatives, because they are not backed up by immediate
(academic) reasons for believing them, but by practical reasons
for doing the things which they allege ought to be done, is
another mistake. One can steer a course between these two rocks,
by saying, quite simply, that you do in fact back up an ought-
judgement, not by academic reasons for believing it, but by
practical reasons for acting on it, for the very simple reason that
the ought-judgement just says that there are reasons for
performing the action that it says ought to be done. Hence one
shows that a moral judgement is true by producing reasons for
the action, and not the judgement, because what the moral
judgement says is just that there are such reasons. It is obvious
that imperatives cannot state that there are reasons for the
actions they enjoin.
Hare founders on both these aforementioned rocks
 127

simultaneously. He thinks that moral judgements are something

like imperatives (i.e. prescriptive) which would be sensible only if
he thought they were backed up by reasons, in the form of
statement, for the action enjoined; but he does not appear to
think that that is how they are backed up. Though his practice is
better than his theory, his theory appears to be that when you
are giving reasons, partly in the form of imperatives, for a moral
judgement you are giving reasons for what you are saying, (i.e.,
the imperative you are iSSuing): a view of which would be
sensible only if you thought that moral judgements were
propositions, which he also does not think. He simply substitutes
prescriptions for judgements in the old academic formula,
without making all the other changes which would be consequent
upon this substitution. My own view is that the changes in these
formula which would have to be made if moral judgements were
imperatives are the right ones to make - though Hare does not
make them - but that it does not follow from the fact that they
have to be made that moral judgements are imperatives rather
than indicatives. They have to be made because what
ought-judgements state is that there are reasons for doing the
action that they say ought to be done. Though I have only
occasionally brought the arguments in the preceding pages to
bear on the work of Professor Hare, I believe that if Hare's view
could be made compatible with the conclusions I have drawn,
this would eliminate everything that is at present distinctive,
interesting and important about it.
My technique in the preceding pages has been to try to show
that moral judgements are not imperatives by showing that it is
impossible to substitute imperatives for moral judgements in
128

pieces of logical discourse where the latter are entirely

appropriate. Some might wish to reply that no-one has
maintained that moral judgements are imperatives. What some
philosophers have maintained is that they are disguised
imperatives. From the fact that you cannot substitute a sentence
in the imperative mood for a sentence expressing a moral
judgement you can deduce only that moral judgements are not
properly expressed by a sentence in the imperative mood. But a
disguised imperative would not be in the imperative mood, and
so my argument does not show that a disguised imperative might
not be substituted for a moral judgement.
Someone maintaining that moral judgements are disguised
imperatives, however, must be maintaining that, though they are
expressed in sentences in the indicative mood, the fact that they
are in this mood obscures their true function, which is that of
imperatives. It should follow, therefore, that, if a sentence (or
part of a sentence) in the imperative mood is substituted for
them, the only difference this makes is to remove the disguise.
Undisguised imperatives, therefore, should go into all the slots in
a piece of rational discourse into which a disguised imperative
will go. The only difference substituting one for the other would
make should be that any expectation we might have that they
will not go into these slots is removed once they are put overtly
into the imperative mood. Since imperative sentences will not go
into the gaps left in sentences and arguments by removing
sentences which express moral judgements from them, it follows
that there is no disguise. They are, indeed, indicatives. If
someone claims to ba a woman disguised as a man, we might
point out that he cannot be a woman, because he has a penis. If
 129

he replies that, though a woman cannot have a penis, women

disguised as men have them, he would obviously be mistaken.
Similarly, someone who maintained that , because moral
judgements were disguised imperatives, they could have all the
logical properties I have outlined, would be making exactly the
same mistake. It is the very fact that they have these logical
properties that makes them indicatives.

Bibliography

I have found the following especially useful:

P.T. Geach: the section entitled "Imperative and Practical
Reasoning", in Logical Matters, Basil Blackwell, Oxford,
1972.
R.M. Hare, The Language of Morals, O.U.P ., 1952, The
Macmillan Press Ltd., London and Basingstoke, 1971.
Anthony Kenny: "Practical Inference", Analysis 26. 3, 1966.
Nicholas Rescher: The Logic of Commands, Routledge and
Kegan Paul, London, and Dover Publications Inc., New
York, 1966.
B.A.W. Williams: "Imperative Inference", in Problems of the
Self, C.U.P ., 1973.

There is an excellent bibliography in Rescher's "The Logic of

Commands" . I am indebted to my colleague, Mr. Michael Clark,
for drawing my attention to some things that I had not read, and
to Professor P .T. Geach for suggesting the quotation from Robert
Browning which heads this paper.
 7

AGAINST TOLERATING THE INTOLERABLE 1

Jennifer Jackson

The Problem

A patient seeks contraceptive advice. What should the doctor do

who disapproves for moral reasons e.g. the orthodox Catholic?
a) try to dissuade the patient?
b) simply say, 'I can't give that sort of advice'?
c) refer the patient to a willing doctor?
d) put a notice in the surgery, "Please do not ask ... '?

The Liberal Solution

According to what I shall call the liberal view, the doctor should
neither impose nor be imposed upon, should neither be
obstructive to the patient's wishes nor be obliged by her to do
what offends his conscience.
In other words, the doctor should not try to dissuade (a). But
he may refuse to advise (b), provided he also refers to a willing
colleague (c), since unless the patient knows that she can get
advice she wants elsewhere, this doctor simply by refusing to

131
P. Geach (ed.), Logic and Ethics, 131-144.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers.
132

advise is 'imposing' after all. Finally, having refused and referred,

posting a notice (d) seems a sensible precaution against further
embarrassment.
I want in this paper to examine the liberal response to the
doctor's dilemma. It appears to provide a decent way out of an
impasse, a way in which everyone can preserve their dignity, and
respect the moral views of others. That the solution is so
comfortable, however, might itself be reason for a modest
suspicion as to its adequacy. Looking into the matter we may
find that all is not well with the liberal solution.

AUowing People to FoUow their own Consciences

The principle that people should be allowed to follow their own

consciences even if qualified (as liberals would doubtless wish) to
exempt from tolerance activities patently harmful to others,
would not serve to underpin the liberal's solution to the doctor's
dilemma.
As it stands the principle is ambiguous. It might mean (a)
people must be allowed to do what their consciences permit or,
more narrowly, (b) people must be allowed to do what their
consciences dictate. The first thesis, we may reject straightaway.
Such a principle cannot recommend itself to anyone - not even
where people are being prevented from doing what is in no way
objectionable as, for example, in competitive games where we
seek to prevent one another from doing what is perfectly innocent
and permitted by every conscience.
What about the second thesis? Must people be allowed to do
 133

as their consciences dictate? Surely not. For A's conscience may

require A to prevent B doing what B's conscience requires of B.
Thus if this second thesis is true, it is false. Therefore, it is false.
We might concoct a weaker thesis still. 'Any person must be
allowed, at least by those whose consciences permit them to be
tolerant, to do what his conscience dictates.' Whether this
principle is true or not is beside the point in connection with our
example. For the Catholic doctor might well be thinking that he
is bound to interfere, up to a point, with the patient's decision.
And the patient, we might suppose, may only be wanting to do
what her conscience permits rather than dictates. Thus in our
example the doctor would not be endeavouring to make the
patient act against her conscience, but to do some other thing
that she also regards as permissible.
In any case, suppose that the patient's conscience does so
dictate. She thinks perhaps out of consideration for her husband
she ought to have sexual intercourse while her husband, let us
suppose, is unwilling to take contraceptive measures himself (it
being against his conscience). Suppose she also thinks that it
would be 'irresponsible' for her to have more children. So all in
all she 'has to' take contraceptive measures.
Does this not land her doctor in a dilemma? If he dissuades
the patient, gets her to act against her conscience, he persuades
her to do wrong (since it is surely always wrong to do what one
thinks is wrong). And is it not wrong to persuade anyone to do
wrong? On the other hand, the doctor, as we have supposed,
believes he must try to dissuade the patient from using
contraceptives. Surely then the unfortunate doctor is damned if
he does and damned if he does not, as we say.
134

But there is a way out. The doctor can do two things.

1. He may do what he can to foil the patient's efforts
without tampering with her conscience. The patient after all is
only commanded by her conscience to do her best. The doctor
may see to it that her best is not good enough. He, for his part, is
not obliged to go to whatever lengths might be necessary to stop
a patient doing what is wrong. We may suppose he is not entitled
to do evil to prevent evil. Perhaps he tells a patient no lies but
only mentions an FP clinic situated in a seedy remote part of
town open irregularly and omits to mention a much pleasanter
new clinic recently opened in the immediate vicinity. Such a
tactic does seem to offend against the liberal's 'Live and let live'
philosophy but not against 'Letting people follow their own
consciences' .
2. Alternatively, the doctor can seek to change his patient's
conscience, persuading her that she is mistaken in thinking that
she has to resort to contraception. He might even succeed in
convincing her that she must not do so. Now this course too will
be deemed unliberal, contrary to the policy of 'Live and let live',
although it does not involve disrespect for the patient's
conscience.

Tolerating Injustice

Liberals may be expected to agree that in any society some

constraints have to be generally recognized and enforced if it is to
remain viable. These, which we might call the 'constraints of
justice', must be imposed. A doctor is not entitled to aid and
abet injustice, to advice a patient on 'poisons-that-Ieave-
 135

no-trace' . Though he has the relevant expertise, he rightly

declines in such a case either to advise or to refer to a less
scrupulous colleague or even to suggest an appropriate text that
the applicant might consult for himself in the library.
Liberals may insist, though, that only if the wrong in
question is uncontroversial is intolerance tolerable. It is quite
another matter, they may say, where there is no moral consensus
behind a view that some practice is wrong. Even granted that
those who believe the practice wrong are not simply dotty; have a
respectable following i.e. champions of good will and good sense,
it has also to be acknowledged that the same must hold of those
who deny that the practice is wrong; these too can boast a
respectable following - otherwise, there would be no controversy.
That being so, liberals may urge, everyone is entitled to his own
opinion and no one is entitled to impose his view.

Application of Liberal Solution to Abortion Issue

Take the controversy over abortion. Some people claim that

abortion is wicked. Now assuming that these people have arrived
at their view after sober reflection, not carelessly, the liberals
may say, 'Their view must be respected'. 'But equally', they may
say, 'So must be the view of those who disagree, who maintain
that abortion is not wicked - assuming, that is, that they too
have arrived at their view after careful reflection'. 'In such a
case', liberals may say, 'the civilised solution is the exercise of
mutual tolerance'. Thus the doctor who regards abortion as
wicked need not personally assist in providing that service to
136

patients but he must not obstruct colleagues who think it all

right to do so.
Yet is this not a most peculiar attitude to advocate? Let us
suppose a doctor is a member of a group practice and that he
alone among his colleagues regards abortion as wicked. They
civilly offer to cater to all the patients, his included, who request
that particular service; he need not be personally involved. His
colleagues respect his right to his own view. But, of course, they
in turn do not expect him to be obstructive to their work, e.g.
turning up to filibuster a council meeting to which the group is
making application for planning permission to extend their
premises to accommodate the growing demand for abortions. He
must respect their right to their view.
Consider, by way of analogy, the situation of a doctor who
has joined a group practice in which he discovers that his
colleagues regularly poison elderly decrepit patients at their
relatives' request. Is it enough that he declines to join in? If
relatives appeal to him for such assistance, should he explain that
such work is contrary to his principles, but that his colleagues
across the corridor will probably oblige?

, Turning a Blind Eye'

As a member of a group practice he is one of a team, surely, and

however the work is distributed among the members they each
share a collective responsibility. If murder is wrong, aiding and
abetting it is wrong. Surely the doctor who refers and 'turns a
blind eye' is aiding and abetting though no one dies at his hands?
 137

Granted, a just man is not obliged to do everything in his

power to prevent others acting unjustly. On the other hand, it is
not enough that his hands are clean though he will not lift a
finger to stop injustice being perpetrated by others. A just man
not only avoids acting unjustly himself, he also cares about
justice, he cannot be indifferent then to what goes on around
him. His cannot be the attitude of the theatre usherette who
whispers to a lat~omer 'You are supposed to stand here at the
back until the interval, but I shan't see you if you noiselessly
creep into your seat.' Yet this seems to be precisely the stance
that liberals expect the dissenting doctor to adopt.

Asymmetry

In advocating mutual tolerance liberals seem to overlook the

asymmetry inherent in the type of controversy we are discussing.
Suppose A believes that it is wicked to eat beans. B disagrees; he
thinks that is permissible. B invites A to dine and, being a
civilised liberal-minded fellow, does not, of course, press A to eat
beans - even goes to the trouble of preparing a bean-less dish
just for A.
But A's disapproval is not just of his own consumption of
beans (as if he had taken some private vow to abstain); he
believes (after Pythagoras?) that no one should eat them. That
being so, we cannot expect him to be agreeable to sitting down at
table with us simply because there are no beans on his plate while
at his elbow we are tucking into them.
We, for our part, though, may reasonable tolerate his
138

eccentric view. To us, his abstention is unnecessary but harmless.

Thus while it is reasonable for us to tolerate his view, it is not so
for him to tolerate ours. He cannot agree to disagree.
We have already remarked that the liberal accepts the
propriety of intolerance towards what is uncontroversially unjust.
But why if intolerance is appropriate there is it not so in the case
of what is controversially unjust? The presence or absence of
agreement from others with your view that a particular practice
is wicked cannot affect the truth of the matter. Provided you are
entitled to think as you do, (your taking sides on a controversial
question is only worthy of respect if it is accompanied by some
serious reflection on your part) are you not entitled to be
intolerant, indeed, obliged to be so?

Making Sense of Mutual Toleration

There are a number of explanations that might render the

advocacy of mutual toleration reasonable. But 1 shall argue that
none of these fits the kind of case we are considering here.
1. Religious observances: One reason we might find to
explain the liberals' curious attitude: he thinks the peculiar view
of the doctor who objects to abortion or contraception is a matter
of religious observance. Jews do not eat pork. Hindus do not eat
beef. But members of these faiths are not obliged besides
abstaining themselves, to go about picketing butcher shops and
the like. The restrictions apply to members only (I presume).
2. Personal crusades: Another reason which would account
for the liberals' attitude is that he regards the doctor's odd
 139

concern as some personal crusade to which he has committed

himself; we may not care to support it, have other enthusiasms of
our own for which we crusade, but we can look upon it
indulgently as amiable but harmless - somewhat 'quaint'
perhaps.
3. Personal distaste: Another explanation could be that the
liberal believes that people's moral objections amount to no more
than the expression of some kind of personal distaste. If it so
happens (perhaps because of some quirk of personal history,
perhaps because of a different cultural background) that a
particular doctor has a distaste for some duty about which his
colleagues have no distaste whatsoever, it is only civilised for his
colleagues to try to accommodate him by relieving him of that
duty, e.g. he might have a phobia about handling leeches. It
would simply be churlish for some doctor to grumble, 'Why
should this leech-phobia be allowed to inconvenience other
doctors?' On the other hand, what would the fastidious doctor be
up to who tried to prevent leeches being used?
4. Privacy of life-style: Another reason could be that the
liberal takes the doctor of eccentric view to be disagreeing over
what life-style is most satisfactory, he advocates the
non-contraceptive way as somehow the best form of married life.
And what life-style one adopts seems to be largely one's private
concern - as is often claimed in regard to matters of sexual
morality generally. We may not agree with one another's
proclivities in this domain, may, perhaps rightly, judge others to
be imprudent in their choices. But it is after all their affair; we
have no business interfering. On such matters we can agree to
disagree.
140

The trouble is that none of these explanations for mutual

tolerance fits the cases we are considering here, cases where
objection is based on the view that some practice e.g.
contraception, abortion, is wicked. The doctor described at the
outset of our discussion does not see the contraceptive issue as a
matter of life-style, of private concern only; nor does he regard
his own opposition as the expression merely of his personal
distaste, nor as a personal crusade which others mayor may not
care to join, nor as a matter simply of religious observance.

Against' Agreeing to Disagree'

I conclude that it is not possible to 'agree to disagree' in regard

to the cases we have been considering. As final illustration of the
preposterousness of the liberal view, imagine visiting a society in
which you discover cannibalism is practiced and believed to be
morally permissible. Your liberal-minded hosts thoughtfully go
to the trouble of laying on special meals for you - free of human
additives so-to--speak. At the same time they expect you to sit
down to table with them, you to chicken legs, they to children's
legs. But, assuming that you are convinced that eating people is
wrong, how can you fall in with the tolerant stance expected of
you? What is more, how can your hosts expect you to?
You might, of course, forbear to 'lecture' your hosts on the
ground that it would be futile - or worse, that they might get
cross and eat you. Anyway, perhaps this is ' 'not the time and
place' to attempt a serious discussion with them; you are simply
there to do business. As one who cares about justice, we might
 141

expect you to 'twist their arm', threaten to break off business

relations unless they change their diet. But such a gesture
probably would harm you, not them; your business competitors
are waiting in the wings to take your place. And what is the
point of such moral gestures? Whom would it impress? The boys
back home perhaps. Not your hosts who are merely bemused at
such fanaticism.
You might suppress your opposition (for the time being) for
the sake of some common cause; you both face an evil enemy, a
united front is necessary. All the same, perhaps you cannot shrug
off conspicuous conviviality with your hosts on the plea 'What
else can I do?' As evidence of the sincerity of your abhorrence for
the wickedness of their practice, at least you should hold yourself
somewhat aloof, firmly though civilly distancing yourself from
intimate contact, as some Asian parents in this country seek to
distance their families from over-familiarity with their British
neighbours whose culture is in some respects morally repellent to
them.
In these cases such cordiality as obtains is superficial and
cannot but be so. There is obvious danger in tolerating practices
one believes to be wicked, the danger that one's shock will
gradually dissipate, that one will gradually be corrupted through
familiarity.
It might be thought that although philosophers in their
armchairs can dream up fantastic practices which none of us
could be expected to tolerate, such examples do not tell against
liberalism, it being a practical doctrine, rightly concerned
therefore not with practices which in theory we might encounter,
but with practices which we actually do encounter. But is it
142

really credible that all the horrific practices which are said to be
or have been customary in this or that society can be discounted
as traveller's tales, lent credence only by naive colonialists? And
would those horrific practices that are now extinct not still be
with us if some had not seen fit to forcibly put an end to them
e.g. the annual "customs" (of human sacrifice) celebrated in the
city of Benin until 1897, the Slave Trade, the Press Gangs?

Toleration: Virtue or Vice

I have sought to show that the liberal policy of mutual toleration,

the 'Live and let live philosophy' is untenable in relation to
certain differences over what people should, should not do - that
in some cases it is unreasonable to ask that everyone 'agree to
disagree'. If my argument is unsound, that is depressing news
- for me, anyway. If my argument is sound, that is depressing
news for all of us.
Friendship is preferable to enmity. Intolerance is a barrier to
friendship. The liberal view I have criticised would remove
certain barriers. If that view is untenable those barriers remain.
Not that all differences of belief, attitude or outlook need be
barriers to friendship. Tolerance in respect of differences of taste,
of fortune, differences in dress, eccentric customs, all these
provided that they are harmless, we can and should learn to
tolerate. Indeed, intolerance in this area is rightly condemned as
a vice to be resisted. Civilised people should fight off the
temptation to hate or fear what is unfamiliar, to be so bound by
what Mill calls 'the tyranny of custom' as to allow these sorts of
 143

differences to constitute barriers to friendship.

On the other hand it may be unreasonable to demand
toleration from those who disapprove of our conduct, is
unreasonable if in their view we are acting imprudently and they
have some obligation to care for our well-being or, if in their
view we are acting unjustly about which they are bound to care if
as we would expect they regard justice as of imperative
importance.
We have noticed the asymmetry of attitude between the
person who considers a practice to be morally permissible and the
person who regards that practice as morally impermissible.
Whereas the former can regard the conduct of the latter
tolerantly, sees the latter's self-restraint as unnecessary but
harmless - provided he does not attempt to impose the same
restraint on others - the latter cannot reciprocate in the tolerant
mode; the latter, if he cares about justice, is bound to mind what
the former does. It is unreasonable, unthinking, of the former to
reproach the latter, 'Why can't you live and let live? Why can't
you respect our right to live by our views as we respect your right
to live by yours?'
Not that such a disagreement about justice is bound to prove
a barrier to friendship. A friendship might endure if the former
does not practise as he preaches so-to-speak e.g. does not
himself, as it happens, have anything to do with the practice
which the latter deems to be unjust. Or, a friendship might
survive if the latter can accomplish the formidable feat of hating
the sin but loving the sinner. Otherwise the only route to
reconciliation is through arguing in defence of one's view about
the justice or injustice of the practice in question.
144

Notes
1 Another version of this paper, title Moral Toleration, was
presented at the Annual Conference of the United Kingdom
Association for Legal and Social Philosophy, April 1986, and was
published in Mark Ockelton (ed), Medicine, Ethics and Law,
Steiner, Stuttgart (1987) together with a reply by R.D. Mackay
(Department of Law, LeIcester Polytechnic).
 8

WINNING AGAINST AND WITH THE OPPONENT

Jacek Holowka

Whether it is right or wrong, most people when exposed to harm,

humiliation, misery or oppression at the hands of others try to
break free from their grip, and if that attempt fails, resolve to
repay the injury. At the one extreme there are those who pay back
savagely, without any proportion to their own harm. They are
determined to completely destroy their opponent, either out of pure
hatred or in an effort to forestall his future counter-attacks. Most
terrorists, hoodlums and madly jealous lovers belong to this
category. At the other extreme there are people who cannot bring
themselves to inflict injury on another at all. When wronged, they
turn the other cheek or suffer in silence rather than return the
harm. Thus we read in Gesta Romanorum of Saint Alexis who had
lived under the kitchen stairs and daily suffered from being soaked
all over with dirty water until the Keiser and the Pope came to his
rescue. They both had seen Alexis in their dreams and recognized
him as a saint. Saved and set free, Alexis gently rejected the idea of
revenge and fully forgave his former master for the years of
mistreatment.
Two simple arguments mitigate against using either of these
simple strategies. If the first rule were implemented generally every

145
P. Geach (ed.), Logic and Ethics, 145-165.
© 1991 KLuwer Academic Publishers.
146

antagonism would inevitably turn into a vendetta and continue

interminably. If the second rule were implemented generally all
people would be divided into callous oppressors and helpless
victims. The oppressors would never meet with resistance so they
would only grow confident that there is nothing wrong in their
disregard for others. Impunity would foster arrogance and an
ominous, suppressed sense of guilt in the villains, while the victims,
hopeless and forlorn, would be reduced to subservience and despair.
Limited retaliation, although a more varied and thus more
promising response, is not satisfactory, either. It may seem at first
glance that all struggling parties should be interested in accepting
the rule that every next blow ought to be softer than the one before
until the exchange of blows dies out entirely. But for two reasons
this is not a workable solution. First, a passionate avenger cares
less for his harm than for the damage he can inflict on his foe, and
so he is not motivated to accept conciliatory solutions. Secondly, a
general tendency to phase out all conflicts irrespective of the
motives and casualties involved unwisely favours the man who
deals the first blow. In effect it promotes preemptive strikes. So
even though the rule of limited retaliation tends to cushion
successive blows, its application results in an augmentation of the
number of conflicts and of the fierceness of the opening exchanges.
More sophisticated suggestions have been offered as a solution
of such situations in game theory. If a conflict is strictly
competitive, and one party can only win as much as the other
loses, it is called a zero-sum game. In real life such conflicts do not
happen very often apart from all-(mt wars or competition, when no
compromise, and no mitigating policies are generally accepted.
Most real life conflicts are non-zero-sum games, i.e. can be solved
 147

with partial satisfaction of the claims of all parties. But unlike the
zero-sum games they do not have neat mathematical solutions.
They can only be solved with the use of additional postulates. Such
solutions can yield illuminating and ingenious results, but the
validity of such methods is rather limited, I think. We have no
independent criteria of choosing between different conceptions of
justice.
Let us consider two famous examples, the Prisoner's Dilemma
and the Matthew and Luke's Game. The former was defined by
A.W. Tucker, the latter by R.B. Braithwaite (compare R.D. Luce
and H. Raiffa, Games and Decisions, John Wiley and Sons, Inc.,
New York 1958, chapters 5 and 6).

Game 1: Prisoner's Dilemma

Player B
b1 b2
a1 0.9 0.9 0 1
Player A
a2 1 0 0.1 0 .1

Game 2: Matthew and Luke's Game

Player B
b1 b2
a1 1 2 7 3
Player A
a2 4 10 2 1
148

In every box the first number stands for the payoff of Player A, the
second for the payoff of Player B. It is characteristic in both these
games, in fact this is what makes them interesting, that neither
player finds it advantageous to use one strategy all the time. In
Game 1, Player A initially wants to play a2 to get the payoff of 1.
But as he chooses a2, Player B, who acts independently, will play
b2, hoping for the payoff of 1 for himself, and both will get the
lowest payoff of 0.1 for each {a2, b2}. Now, if both shift to the first
strategy they will get 0.9 each, and may be satisfied for some time.
But sooner or later one of them will be tempted to play his second
strategy again to get his top prize. He may quite easily do so the
first time. He will win one point and his partner will lose badly,
viz. get zero. Naturally the partner will go back to his second
strategy now, and enforce the payoff of 0.1 on both players. He will
do so to punish his rival and in order to improve his own score.
More than that, he may feel or play being offended and stick to his
second strategy to hoard a number of full points whenever his
partner makes and overture at cooperation. If he plays this game of
intransigence too long, his opponent, i.e. the player who was first
tempted to play against his partner, may feel he has been punished
too severely and will neglect all further offers of cooperation. Now
both will find themselves in a stalemate of envy and non-<o-
operation. In this game, as in life, being greedy is less of a vice than
feeling jealous and offended.
Game 1 has an option which is advantageous to both players,
and equally advantageous to both of them: {aI, b1}. If they are
interested more in winning than in winning over the partner, they
can play {aI, b1} and collect a safe 0.9 in every round. But this
strategy works only if both of them are greedy rather than
 149

competitive, as I said. If, however, at least one of them is prepared

to reduce his gain in order to reduce the gain of his partner, he will
use strategy 2 irrespective of his partner's behaviour. Strategy 2
will give him a modest steady income of 0.1 per round, plus the
same income for his partner as long as he plays strategy 2, and
additionally, whenever the partner turns to strategy 1 he will get
one full point. On the other hand, if both players are more greedy
than envious they will both play their strategy 1 and have the same
payoff of 0.9. The game is symmetrical, and by virtue of that, it is
cooperative. Barring envious and malicious behaviour, it offers a
strategy which is good to both partners and equally good to them:
{aI, bl}. The problem of justice does not arise, for the payoffs are
equal.
Game 2 does not have such an option. It is not a cooperative
game but at best a coordinative one. It does not offer an
advantageous pair of strategies which additionally would be equally
advantageous to both players. There are two mutually but
unequally advantageous strategies, {aI, b2} and {aI, b2}, and two
is one too many. Obviously, Player A wants to play {aI, b2} while
Player B wants to play {a2, bl}. As they begin to scramble for
their most favoured results, they will end up, as often as not,
getting no more than three points between the two of them, instead
of eleven at {aI, b2}, or fourteen at {a2, bl}. The players should
therefore agree to alternate the two advantageous strategies so that
in every round one or the other gets his highest payoff. They should
never waste a move on a miserable three point result. But the game
itself does not suggest how often each player should get his highest
score, or how they should coordinate their moves: whether they
should take turns, or whether A is entitled to some additional
150

winning moves because his top payoff is lower than B's (7

compared with 10), or whether B should have some additional
moves, for his strategic position is stronger - he has a strategy
{bl} in which irrespective of what A does he always wins more
than A, while A does not have such a strategy. The dilemma can
be solved by postulating that the game has a just outcome which
must be found, and which says in what proportion A's payoffs
should be higher or lower than B's. (Compare literature listed by
Brian Berry in his Don't Kill the Trumpeter, in H.W. Brock (ed.),
Game Theory, Social Choice and Ethics, D. Reidel, Dordrecht/
Boston/London.) There is no general agreement, however, how this
just solution is to be found . I will try to address this problem from
a different angle.

A 'Move by Move' Response is Insensitive

A symmetrical game can be played with a 'tit for tat' strategy. In

the first round Player A makes any move he wants, and so does
Player B. In the second round Player A chooses independently, but
Player B repeats the move of Player A in round one. If A has
cooperated, B will cooperate; if A has played aggressively in round
one, i.e. 'defected', B will play aggressively in round two. B need
not keep track of his own moves but may simply repeat the move
that A has made before him. In the end, B can be sure that
starting from the second round his score will not be lower than the
score of A. Whatever A gets above his score in any successive move
he can recover in the next move. Besides, if B opens aggressively
(in his first strategy in the Prisoner's Dilemma) he can be sure that
 151

in the end his score will either be equal or higher than the score of
A. (Compare Douglas R. Hofstadter, Mathematical Themes in
Scientific American, June 1983.)
'Tit for tat' is a good strategy for players who are more
interested in winning against their partners than in maximizing
their own score, who do not care that their payoffs are low as long
as their partner's payoffs are not higher. They are guided by the
relative and not by the absolute results of the game. For anyone
who has different goals in the game, i.e. is more greedy than
envious, the 'tit for tat' strategy serves no purpose.
This strategy has also another inconvenience. Its 'planning and
reaction span' is very short, it focusses on the partner's last move
and chooses only the next to come. It cannot be matched or
transformed into either mixed or random strategy by either player.
It stabilises relative results of the game but makes absolute results
unpredictable.
Suppose that A and B play the Prisoner's Dilemma, and both
use the 'tit for tat' strategy. If they happen to open with {a2, b2}
each will see the other's move as aggressive, or defecting, and thus
repeat his strategy 2 in every next move. If, on the other hand,
they happen to open with {aI, b1}, each will see the other's move
as cooperative, and both will continue with cooperative moves, i.e.
strategy 1. If they open with opposite moves, {aI, b2} or {a2, b1},
they will proceed 'out of sync' in every next move, and one will
always try to cooperate when the other defects - alternating in
these roles after every round.
In a non-symmetrical game, like the one played by Matthew
and Luke, a 'move by move' response is not the best either.
Suppose the players open with {aI, b1}. That gives them a low
152

score. If they both back out and play their second strategy, which
would be good assuming that the partner does not switch at the
same time, they will have {a2, b2}, and the result is as bad as the
opening move. Without a longer 'reaction and planning span' the
players will alternate between these two joint reactions
indefinitely, for neither is allowed to vary his response to the
partner's last move. They will be locked in the 3 points result
forever and will never adopt a pattern of coordinated responses.
This shows that a longer reaction and planning span, reaching
beyond the partner's last move and one's next is called for. Justice
may be an elusive objective in such games, but the players may at
least settle for coordination, i.e. a pattern of serial responses that
are either pure, i.e. consist of a number of identical moves, or
mixed, when the two simple strategies are used in a particular
proportion, or at random.

Mixed Strategies are A mbig'Uo'Us

Mixed strategies, especially if they are changed during the game,

cannot easily be recognized by the partner. In zer<>--1lum games
there is no need to recognize them. If a mixed strategy corresponds
to the maximin of the player who uses it he may be sure of winning
the maximum available score as long as his partner does not make
a mistake. If he does, the player can win more, but it is not often
wise to try, because the partner may only pretend that he does not
intend to use his maximin in order to induce his rival to deviate
from his maximin strategy.
In non--2er<>--1lum games it seems irrational to adopt a maxi-
 153

min strategy for its own sake. It makes sense to use it only if a
player has a reason to believe that his partner intends to ruin him
rather than cooperate with him. Thus, if at all, a mixed strategy
could be used to indicate that a player is ready to cooperate. He
may begin, for instance, from a proportion of 10% of al to 90% of
a2. What does it mean to B1 First of all, it will take some time
before B knows that A is playing this mixed strategy, perhaps 50
moves. Then he will have to guess what A is telling him. He may
assume, in this case rightly, that A is ready to use one move of
strategy al for nine moves of strategy b2. If the game they are
playing is the Prisoner's Dilemma this means that A proposes to
play for his highest score 9 times out of 10 and is ready to assist B
in getting his best score at every tenth move. If open negotiation or
exchange of messages is excluded, B has no way of telling A that he
has received the message before he begins to respond to it. It will
also take some time before A can assume that B has got this
message and is making an offer of his own. But this time will
finally come about, and A will find out that B plays, say, a mixed
strategy of 60% of bl to 40% of b2. They will have to begin to
bargain now, i.e. they will exchange messages about different
proportions between each one's pure strategies until eventually
they agree on the same proportion between their pure strategies.
At that moment they can begin looking for a pattern of
coordination, so that the strategies constituting the same fraction
of the whole could be used simultaneously. We must admit that it
is a cumbersome, ambiguous and costly method of bargaining. No
player ever knows whether his partner has received his message,
how he understood it, when he has started to respond to it, if he is
ready to read a new offer, how long it will take him to respond to it
154

and when he finally wants to implement a coordination pattern.

Sometimes all these preparatory negotiations can be bypassed.
Once the players have decided on a particular proportion between
their strategies, they can choose one of two options. They may use
their strategies at these proportions without coordination, e.g. A
plays al 20% of times, and B plays b2 20% of times but each plays
his 20% strategy independently of the other's behaviour, or they
may coordinate, i.e. play {aI, b2} twice in a row, for eight moves
with {a2, bl}, and repeat the same pattern for every next ten
moves. These two options are not equivalent in either absolute or
relative terms , and this is why the meaning of a mixed strategy
opening is ambiguous. In the uncoordinated version, at proportions
assumed above and the game played being the Matthew and Luke
Game, A will get on average U[A]=3.32, B will get U[B]=7, so A's
payoff will be equal to 0.474 of B's. In the coordinated version,
when the only outcomes in individual games are either {7, 3} or
{4, 10} A will get on average U[A]=3.6 and B will get U[B]=8.6, so
now A's payoff will amount to 0.419 of B's. Hence if A is either
competitive or egalitarian and keeps in mind that for the loser the
difference does not mean a lot, he will opt for the uncoordinated
version, whereas B, if he is greedy rather than anything else, will
opt for the coordinated version, and the agreement about
proportion between strategies will mean two different things to
them. There will be no easy way for them to come the terms at
that point. They will first have to agree whether they will play the
coordinated or the uncoordinated version and then they will have
to begin their bargaining anew.
To compound their predicament, if a player chooses any
proportion sufficiently close to a fifty fifty split, his offer of a mixed
 155

strategy may be confused by the partner with a series of random

moves that need not be responded to with any counterproposal at
all, because random moves never carry a specific message.

Random Strategy Makes the Partner Respond with Pure Strategy

If any player decides that his partner plays a random strategy he

will not be induced to make any offers or try to communicate,
because he is not addressed with communication. He will only
think of making the best of the situation. One maximises his
payoffs in response to random strategy by playing one of the pure
strategies. Neither random nor mixed strategies can give as high
payoffs against random strategy as a pure strategy. It is always
best for the player to use against random strategy this strategy
which potentially offers his highest payoff in the matrix. He will
not get that payoff but he will get more than he would if he had
played differently. This is an important fact, for it precludes any
reason for paying a mixed strategy by a player who is interested in
maximising his returns.
For instance, B may decide after 50 or 100 moves of the
Matthew and Luke Game that A has played a1 and a2 without any
pattern, using each strategy approximately the same number of
times. Perhaps A is offering him a 50/50 split, or perhaps A plays
randomly. B may not be interested in a 50/50 split, so he will
interpret A's strategy as random. On this assumption he must
decide what strategy he should adopt himself. He may observe that
as long as his partner's strategy is stable, i.e. in this case, random,
his outcome is a linear function of the fraction of either strategy
156

that he may use, i.e. as he plays bl 10%, 20%, 30%, etc., of times,
his returns monotonically rise or fall. Thus he has no incentive to
use a mixed strategy, i.e. stop short of the 100% value. He had
rather playa pure strategy, the one which promises his highest
payoff in the matrix. In the example just given, by playing bi all
the time, and assuming that A does not change his strategy, B's
payoff will amount to U[B]=6 in the long run. If he played any
other strategy his payoff would be lower.
Why should anyone playa random strategy at all? One reason
is that a player may not care about the game or may not know how
to play it, or even that he is playing it at all. Then his moves may
very well be chaotic or random. Another, but a very dubious,
reason is that one player may want to induce his partner to adopt
the maximum payoff strategy in order to punish him for that. In
the Matthew and Luke Game B might play randomly to lure A
into adopting the ai strategy and then respond by bI, which will
give 1 point to A and 2 points to B in every round. But B has a
better strategy than that. He can simply play bi and then either
get the same result, i.e. punish them both but his partner more
than himself, or he can get his highest payoff. Thus he need never
resign from bl in order to adopt a random strategy. A does not
have any such option in this game, because by inducing B to play
for the maximum payoff, A will make him play bI, which, as we
have just seen, punishes A more severely than B, or gives B high
returns. A comparable situation cannot even arise in a symmetrical
game like the Prisoner's Dilemma. One can neither hope to win
more than the partner nor to maximise one's own payoffs by
playing randomly. The only viable objective in a symmetrical game
is to maximise profits symmetrically, and that can be obtained by
 157

coordinating moves and not by playing against the opponent.

As far as I can see there is only one plausible reason for using
random strategy. If both players have decided to punish one
another as a result of some bad experience in a previous part of the
game, then by using their punishing strategies simultaneously they
will lock themselves in a result that may not be equally
advantageous to both, e.g. they may end up playing {aI, bl} in the
Matthew and Luke Game. The partner who gets the lower result
may prefer now to play randomly to punish himself more severely
than his partner for the mere desire to punish him at all. Thus A
may decide to play randomly. But this solution would be
acceptable to A, I think, only if the {a2, bl} option contained more
favourable proportion between payoffs than {a2, bl}. That is not
the case with the Matthew and Luke Game, where the dis-
proportion between payoffs in the {aI, b2} option is even greater
than in {aI, bl}. Thus in the Matthew and Luke Game there never
exists a good reason to play randomly for either player. The same
is true of symmetrical games like the Prisoner's Dilemma. In this
case playing randomly only results in inducing the partner to go for
his maximum payoff, thus A goes for A2 and B for b2. Now the
random player either suffers losses whenever he chooses his strategy
1, or else switches to strategy 2, and then both partners lose.
Playing randomly can only be useful for the player in a
non-symmetrical game, if he does not have a strategy which
dominates all the partner's payoffs (in the Matthew and Luke
Game this player is A, for B has bl strategy which dominates all
the partner's payoffs), if he cannot punish his partner without
inflicting prohibitive losses on himself, whose partner has decided
to punish him relentlessly, and if he can improve either his relative
158

or his absolute results by playing randomly. In the Matthew and

Luke Game A can improve his absolute results at the expense of a
deterioration of his relative results. (B plays bl, and A responds by
playing randomly, which gives 50% of {I, 2} and 50% of {4, IO}.
On the whole, such a situation would not be very common.
I hope to have shown that in non-zero-sum two-person games
the 'move by move' strategy, mixed strategy and random strategy
are of no or little use in both symmetrical and non-symmetrical
games. Now we have to consider pure strategies employed in series
of some length, coordinated and uncoordinated.

A Coordinated Game

An offer to playa coordinated non-symmetrical game can be made

quite unequivocally by a series of moves with a clear pattern and a
rather obvious implication that the partner may join in. In the
Matthew and Luke Game A can open with the series of six al
followed by four b2. The first ten moves will give the players quite
disheartening returns, three points for both, but at least one thing
will be clear: the proposed proportion between two strategies of
each player.
There will be three possibilities to consider: (1) any player may
propose to play more often his better pure strategy - this is the
most natural, though not a compelling, assumption; (2) one of
them may suggest that B should get his top payoff more often
because his strategic position is stronger (more often than not, B
will be making that claim); and (3) one of them may suggest that
A should get his top payoff more often than B to make the returns
 159

more equal (usually A will be making that claim). It is prudent

always to begin from the first assumption. Let us suppose the
assumption is true, i.e. that each player wants to use his winning
strategy more often than it has been proposed in the first series.
Let us also assume that they will first play the series which gives
the maximum return to his partner, to be followed by a series in
which he gets his highest returns. Other possibilities will be
discussed below, under Failure to Coordinate.
The second round of their game would be partly coordinated.
A would open with e.g. four a2 followed by six aI, B would open
with e.g. six bl followed by four b2. They will both be happy with
the first four and the last four moves, only the two middle moves
will give them low returns. Strictly speaking, their moves are
already as well coordinated as they can be. Partial coordination has
shown that they both claim the top payoff for themselves in the
two middle moves. The disagreement is about the distribution not
about coordination. The question now arises whether it is
advantageous to both of them, and whether it is equally
advantageous to move step by step in the direction required by the
partner.
If the players have been engaged in the Matthew and Luke
Game the series of coordinated moves {a2, bl}, {a2, bl}, {a2, bl},
{a2, bl}, {aI, bl}, {aI, bl}, aI, b2}, {aI, b2}, {aI, b2}, {aI, b2}
will give them average returns of U[A]=4.6 and U[B]=5.6; and A's
returns will amount to 0.82 of B's. If they agree to divide between
themselves the two middle moves and turn one into {a2, bl} and
the other into {aI, b2} the results will be U[A]=5.5 and U[B]=6.5;
and A's returns will amount to 0.84 of B's.
We must note that it is not immaterial which player switches
160

his pattern first. The two middle moves may either be {aI, bI},
{aI, bI} or {a2, b2}, {a2, b2}. The first case has just been
analysed. If B switches first the results will be slightly different.
Initially they will have: U[A]=4.8 and U[B]=5.4; and A's returns
will amount to 0.88 of B's. After dividing the two middle moves
between themselves, the results will be the same as before, i.e.
U[A]=5.5, U[B]=6.5 and the ratio will be 0.84. Thus depending on
who made the first courtesy switch they will either see the relative
difference between the returns grow or fall. If A happens to be
interested both in increasing the absolute value of his returns and
in closing the gap between them, B would do well to offer a
courtesy switch after the first stretch of the game. Then meeting
half way, by making an equal number of concessions, would look
doubly attractive to A. Conversely, A would be smart to make the
switch first, if he wants to bargain for a different division of the
middle moves, say, one for him and the other for nobody.
If a conciliatory gesture by one player to move one step in the
direction of the other and to extend the succession of moves which
give the partner his maximum payoff does not evoke a kind
response, the player who has made the offer may take it back in the
next round of ten moves. If this in return produces a retaliation by
the less conciliatory player, the more conciliatory one should
answer in kind. These hostilities may easily break down the pattern
of the game and both players will get their lowest payoffs. This
. cannot be helped. It is hard to induce an uncooperative man to
engage in cooperative behaviour. Some players will rather seek the
ruin of themselves and their partner than acquiesce in results that
offend their sense of fairness, justice of simply their expectation of
success. There is no strategy in the game that an opponent can use
 161

to make this attitude unprofitable. One cannot win against an

envious partner.
In a symmetrical game, like the Prisoner's Dilemma, the
opening strategy is much simpler. Each player starts from the
policy which is best for both. There is no point in proposing
anything else. Thus A should start from ten al and B from ten bI.
There is also nowhere to go from there. The positive opening makes
the game. If any player begins haggling for higher returns at the
cost of his partner's heavy losses, he deserves a response in kind.
To teach him that the situation is symmetrical, that he has done
something wrong, and needlessly wrong, that in general he cannot
get away with it, one should give him a 'ti t-for-t at , treatment.
Then either the game returns to {aI, bl} or one had better quit it.
Both in symmetrical and non-symmetrical games an offer of
coordination is made in almost the same way. Each player proposes
what he considers to be an appropriate division of points between
himself and the partner by suggesting a pattern of moves. If both
proposals are reasonably similar any discrepancy can be bridged by
making one's offer more generous step by step as long as the
partner responds favourably. The change will always be
advantageous in absolute terms, and sometimes in relative terms as
well.
If instead of a decent proposal one gets an offer that is patently
overcompetitive and greedy, one should not look for strategies that
would change the attitude of the partner. There are no such
strategies. The game must degenerate into either one-sided
pounding or an interminable exchange of hostilities.
162

A Failure to Coordinate

A failure to coordinate may arise from various causes. First, the

players may not appreciate the merits of coordination, either
because they never thought of it, or because they hate their
partners and distrust them, or because they believe that
non-zero-sum games should be played like zero-sum games.
Second, they may disagree about the distribution of payoffs due to
excessive greed or overcompetitiveness. Third, they may try to
coordinate but fail to synchronise. The last case is particularly
important because one may suspect that coordination is as
cumbersome as communication with mixed strategies.
This is not the case. Making the first statement with mixed
strategies took 50 or 100 moves, depending on desired accuracy.
For coordination about ten moves is enough, at least for the
beginning. Moreover, if one decides to make his offer within ten
moves, and gets no response, one may repeat the same pattern time
and again, and then the pattern must be clear to any intelligent
player who keeps track of the game. All that can be done in less
than 50 moves.
Why should we use a ten move span rather than any other
length? In point of fact, some players may prefer a stretch of 12 or
even 27 moves, if for some reason they want to be very precise and
believe that they can only make a proposal which contains such
irreducible numbers, if e.g. a player thinks that the payoff should
be in the proportion of 7 to 12 or 1 to 27. In some cases it may be
inevitable to use such numbers, if for instance three boxes in the
matrix contain only l's while the fourth box box is {27, O} the
player who can potentially win 27 may suggest that he will refrain
 163

from getting this payoff 27 times in a row, but then he expects to

get his top payoff at least once. If the differences between payoffs
are not so large, shorter spans may be proposed.
A ten move span is natural simply because our counting
system is based on tens. But in fact any series of moves as long as
it comprises an uninterrupted sequence of two different strategies
can be considered as an offer of coordination. A practical difficulty
arises when two players propose spans of different lengths. Then
one must adapt to the other, and the one with a shorter series
should adapt to the one with a longer one in order to allow for the
expression of accuracy intended in the latter's proposal.
A real misunderstanding may arise if the recipient of the
proposal believes that his partner's long sequence is offered as an
opportunity for him to win his top payoffs, whereas the author of
the offer wants to profit from this sequence himself, or the other
way round. In such a case the disappointed person will simply
reverse his own pattern, and if this reversal disappoints the other
player, he will then switch his pattern in turn. In any case they will
know fairly quickly that they disagree and also whether the
disagreement is about the meaning of the offer or about the
distribution of the payoffs. After the first 30 moves or so, only
disagreements about distribution will remain.

Consequences for Moral Philosophy

I tried to show that in non-zero-sum games only coordinated

strategies can be used profitably. That means that such games do
not have built-in just solutions which could be discovered by
164

mathematical or other formal methods. First of all, there are no

just solutions for unjust games. If a game unconditionally limits
strategic options of one player (by giving him no strategies which
dominate the payoffs of his partner), or systematically offers one
player higher payoffs than the other, or contains great dis-
proportions between payoffs, no solution will satisfy all potentially
applicable criteria. No solution will be equal or nearly equal,
attractive to both players, sensitive to strategic superiority of the
stronger, mathematically well defined and close to the results that
will be obtained when the game is played by real players. As such a
satisfactory solution in unavailable I think that coordination is a
more tangible and practical objective than justice or any other
objective. Even an unjust game can be coordinated, and its
acceptability for the less fortunate player is manifested by his
decision to abstain from using strategies that may punish his
partner.
Justice is taken into account in what I have called a 'decent
proposal'. By a decent proposal I mean a proposal that is
acceptable to a knowledgeable player who wants to win the game.
A player who demands returns much higher than those of his
partner is making a proposal that will not be accepted by a
knowledgeable player. If this initial condition of 'decency' is
satisfied, the two opening strategies will not be very far apart. If
they are, it is a proof that one or another player is unrealistic, that
he is trying to take advantage of his partner and is not strongly
motivated to play with him rather than against him. Sometimes
such a partner can be reformed and made more cooperative.
Sometimes not. If he cannot be persuaded to seek coordination,
there is even less chance that he may be amenable to the idea of
 165

using a strategy conducive to an imaginary just solution.

Thus as I find cooperation a mutually advantageous result,
tangible and explicit, susceptible to bargaining and largely
unambiguous in bargaining situations when negotiation is ruled
out. I consider it a more appropriate end for a conflict resolution
procedure than a quest for justice and equality. This conclusion
potentially proposes a serious limitation of aims in various social
situations, from profit sharing, to parental rights, and power
sharing in politics and disarmament.
 9

MEANING-NORMS AND OBJECTIVITYl

Julie Jack

Introductory Remarks

Questions of meaning are often said to be normative questions,

and language use is often said to involve rule-following. Here an
attempt is made to connect these dicta through considerations
about a central concept of speech act identification, the concept
of an act of saying that something is so. Like all classificatory
concepts, the notion of an act in which the agent says such and
such is 'normative' in the sense that a judgement applying it on a
particular occasion may be correct or incorrect. This aspect of the
concept's normativity perhaps requires some showing, and efforts
are made in its defence in the final section of this paper. But in
addition, I claim, the concept of a saying is normative in content,
since it ascribes ways of being right or wrong to the things to
which it is applied. The idea that identifying an item as a saying
involves ascribing a norm to that item derives (in altered form)
from some comments by Erik Stenius on the semantics of moods. 2
With the help of this idea, I essay a distinctively cognitivist
picture of how the exercise of linguistic ability can consist of
rule-governed practices. The main drift is that the notion of a

167
P. Geach (ed.), Logic and Ethics, 167-197.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers . .
168

saying is an essential part of the conceptual repertory of language

users, who apply it to individual utterances in the course of
speaking and attending to speech, and in so doing apply norms to
those utterances; that ordinary language use involves partici-
pating in rule-governed practices is a claim that can be
developed from this basis.
The emphasis in recent times on meaning as use of course
derives from Wittgenstein. And it seems natural to connect
Wittgenstein's insistence on the behavioural aspects of under-
standing a language with his obvious wish to proffer the notion of
a 'practice' as the solution to certain problems which are
generated if we have a wrong conception of what it is to be
following a rule. But did he hold that language consists of rule-
following or did he merely think of language use and rule-
following as analogous and occasionally overlapping activities?
When at #259 of the Philosophical Investigations, he talks about
'the rules of the private language', he is presumably thinking of
rules for associating a sign with some extra-linguistic correlate of
the sign (the correlates being sensations in this case). Such rules
would instruct one to keep the relevant correlates in mind while
using the signs. But if that is how Wittgenstein is thinking of
rules and language use in the case of a putative private language,
it provides us with no model for how he conceives genuine
language use to involve rule-following. One could not be aware of
such a rule without conforming to it. And surely Wittgenstein
wished to discredit the view that that sort of 'rule following' is at
the heart of language use, not merely to urge that signs have
extra-linguistic correlates which are more public than sensations
are. The account to be given here is not presented as the precise
 169

way, or as one of the precise ways, in which Wittgenstein

considered language-use to involve rule-following, since I do not
even know whether he thought that the one systematically
involved the other. This account is, however, offered as being in
the spirit of his main views on the two subjects of language use
and rule-following.
The question whether participation in ordinary discourse
involves rule-following, and if so in what sense it does so, arises
once it is agreed - as it should be - that ordinary discourse,
whether accompanied or unaccompanied by extra-linguistic
action, constitutes the main arena for the exercise of linguistic
ability. In his article 'Anti Realism and the Epistemology of
Understanding',3 John McDowell defends the view, the force of
which is too often ignored by theorists of meaning, that the place
to look for the exercise of linguistic ability is not in special
activities (including special rule-following activities) of which
speakers are supposed potentially capable in virtue of having
language, but in the actual practice of speech. McDowell also
notes that if this approach is taken seriously, there will be a
problem in seeing how to apply the notion of rule-following
non-metaphorically to the exercise of linguistic ability. Though I
agree, I feel less sceptical than McDowell appears to be about the
possibility of finding a systematic involvement in rule following
of ordinary language use. For one thing, it might be claimed,
pace McDowell, that rules attach to aspects of utterance meaning
besides their propositional content or truth~onditions. My
approach involves selecting the assertoric utterance - i.e. the
'saying' - as the locus of rules rather than just 'what is said', or
in other words, selecting the significance of the total act of
170

speech, rather than its propositional content, as the locus of

meaning rules. The former seems easier to connect with the idea
of specific rule-guided practices than the latter. 4 Even so, in the
approach I pursue, a systematic involvement of rule-following in
language use is forged only by adopting an unusual way of
individuating practices. This merely technical manoeuvre rests on
a more substantive one - viz. insistence on the cognitive nature
of the exercise of linguistic mastery.
Language use must have its cognitive aspects, because
language involves action, behind which lies belief as well as
intention. And those cognitive aspects must include the
appreciation of the significance of speech; otherwise meaningful
speech, as such, would not fall within the sphere of rational
choice. Accordingly, the view taken here is that to exercise
linguistic ability is to identify one's own or another person's
utterances under concepts like 'is an act of saying that such and
such' - i.e. linguistic ability is exercised in the appreciation, or
uptake, of ordinary utterance meaning. But also, to make such
identifications is to ascribe specific rules to individual utterances,
and the character of these ascriptions is revealed by the
behaviour of participants in discourse. In this way, an application
is provided for the notion of rule-governed behaviour. For
purposes of this application, 'rule-governed behaviour' must be
understood, not as behaviour constituting the fulfillment, with or
without awareness of so doing, of the rule's command, but as
behaviour arising from and reflecting the agent's belief that there
is a rule. Given such a notion of rule-guided behaviour - i.e. a
notion of behaviour which is 'mediated' by belief that a certain
rule attaches to an utterance - only cognitivism can provide a
 171

sense in which ordinary language use consists of participation in

rule-governed practices. Cognitivism of this form is not in any
obvious way open to the objection that, because it makes
meaning an object of judgement, therefore it inherits the faults of
the 'interpretational model' which Wittgenstein discredited. s
And anyone who denies this cognitive aspect of understanding,
anyone, that is, who denies that exercising linguistic ability
necessarily includes appreciating utterance significance will, I
believe, have to conclude that rule following is no more than a
simile or metaphor for language use.
I do not offer a careful analysis of 'is an act of saying that p'.
But two claims are made about its essential characteristics. One
claim is that it ascribes to an utterance it is applied to 'being
right only if p'. The second is that it refers to the language in use
in whatever utterance it is applied to. Putting these two factors
together, they yield the claim that 'is an act of a saying that p' is
roughly equivalent to 'by the standards of the language being
used, is right only if p'. This rough equivalence is conceived to
hold for 'saying' in its application to assertions. Acts of utterance
which are vehicles of saying~ontent, but in which that content is
not asserted, cannot be said to be right only if that content is
true; and various related generalizations that hold for assertoric
utterances fail to hold unrestrictedly for utterances bearing
propositional content. Philosophers sometimes use the word
'saying' to collect any utterance which is a vehicle of saying-
content, whether asserted or unasserted; for example, that has
been Davidson's usage. 6 It is also, I believe, McDowell's usage in
the article mentioned earlier. In this paper, though, 'saying' and
'is a saying that p' are reserved for the assertoric utterance. The
172

notion of assertion I am working with is this: If an utterance that

bears the content 'that p' is an assertion, the speaker implies
(pragmatically) that he or she knows or believes that p, whereas
this implication is missing if the utterance is not an assertion. A
stress on the assertoric use of a sentence has tended - by way of
Dummett's important contributions to these questions - to go
with anti-realism and a preference for 'assertion-conditions' over
'truth-conditions'. However, the contrast here is between a
concept of 'saying ... ' which includes assertoric force, and any
concept of sentence or utterance meaning which abstracts from
assertoric force. So this emphasis on the assertoric instance does
not register any particular allegiance to anti-realism.

Proposed Resolution of a Dilemma about Linguistic Abilities

How should one conceive of the exercises of the ability to speak a

language? It may seem that we have to choose between a
conception of these exercises as mental or as behavioural. But
this is of course a false contrast, since behaviour includes action,
and action is classified by its motivation. Hence we might regard
the exercises of linguistic ability as actions done with certain
intentions. And, if we eschewed reductionist aims, we could
regard the relevant intentions as involving speech act concepts
like 'saying' essentially. But to fasten on the intention to speak
as the sole, or main, exercise of linguistic ability is to leave out of
account what attenders of speech have in common with speakers.
It is to forget that both must be capable of taking in the
significance of speech. Indeed, if one could only understand
 173

speech without speaking, this would still be an important exercise

of linguistic ability, whereas speaking without understanding
would be no such thing! A more fundamental formulation of an
objection is as follows: What people intend to do is a matter of
the whole web of their beliefs, desires, perceptions, emotions, etc.;
it is holistically constrained. Therefore, if we choose to regard
intentions as what linguistic mastery issues in, we have the
following dilemma: Either we are unable to characterize the
occasions on which linguistic ability will actually be exercised
without alluding to the remainder of the subject's beliefs and
desires, etc., or we take the view that linguistic ability does
determine one to have certain intentions in certain circum-
stances, willy nilly. On the second horn, the exercise of linguistic
ability is mechanical, not being constrained by rationality in the
way that intention-formation can be. And though everyone will
agree that there are mechanical aspects to language use, one
might well hesitate to agree that the formation of the intention
to say such and such is necessarily among these aspects. On the
first horn, we abandon the possibility that linguistic ability has
psychological exercises which can be specified for a person
independently of having a total interpretation of that person's
psychological condition - as some would say, without having a
'theory' of that person. This seems to suggest, in turn, either that
the exercises of this ability are 'sub-personal' happenings or that
the ability to speak a particular language is not an ability which
can be characterized trans-personally in terms of its exercise.
Without seeking to show in any further detail how
unattractive both horns of this dilemma are, let me propose
side-stepping it, by rejecting the view that the definitive psycho-
174

logical exercise of linguistic ability consists of intentions. Let me

propose, instead, that perceptual judgements of significance be
regarded as the defining exercises of linguistic ability. These are
judgements which are the exercise of a perceptual capacity to
take utterances in a certain waYi this recognitional capacity
issues in mental happenings that are not holistically constrained
in the manner of intentions. It is not true that intentions are the
only way to bring together the mental and the behavioural. For
occurrent perceptual beliefs are as much manifest in activity as
intentions are. We are not compelled to resort to intentions to
escape the false dichotomy between the mental and the
behavioural which Wittgenstein's attack on the 'inner state' or
'inner object' model of meaning has, ironically, done so much to
foster.
The view, then, that I want to defend is the view that
possessing a particular language can be conceived as a
disposition, the essential exercises of which are perceptual judge-
ments identifying the significance of utterances of the language
under concepts like 'is an act of saying that p'. I shall argue that
this view is entirely compatible with the view that the exercises
of language-possession consist of participation in rule-governed
practices. Indeed, the two views can be seen as equivalent if,
first, one employs a practical conception of judgement and if,
secondly, one adopts a method (to be explained) of sorting
practices by judgements informing activity, and if, thirdly, it is
admitted that concepts of significance are normative concepts. I
shall proceed by discussing these points in order. The two views
about the exercises of language mastery which the discussion
aims to bring together emphasize the 'mental' and the 'activity'
 175

sides of meaning respectively. An emphasis on the mental side of

meaning, especially when the aspect of the metal that is selected
is a cognitive-cum-perceptual aspect, caters for what has been
called the autonomy of meaning, i.e. for the fact that language
possession does. not determine our goals and for the fact that the
correct understanding of a given utterance is compatible with a
large range of different aims or purposes. An emphasis on the
activity side of meaning, on the other hand, caters for the
requirement that, to the observer who has the right concepts in
play, linguistic understanding is manifest, and, indeed, manifest
in ordinary discourse. In the course of showing how an 'uptake'
view of the exercises of linguistic ability can be assimilated to a
view of those exercises - at least as far as 'saying' is concerned -
as participation in rule-governed practices, I hope to show also,
of course, that the manifest character of understanding and its
autonomy are not at all incompatible.
The view of utterance-uptake as what constitutes the
exercise of linguistic ability may seem to fly in the face of the
doctrine that meaning is use, and mastery of a language a
practical ability which is exercised in doing things. But use is
action, which has its mental side, and judgement has its practical
side. Indeed, there is every reason to adopt a 'practical'
conception of judgement, in contrast to a conception which
equates judgement with 'inner experiences'; and this is the first
point I wish to make in my drive to bring together the 'uptake'
and 'practice' conceptions of what linguistic ability issues in.
Judging, under this conception, is not something one must be
aware of oneself doing, nor is it more favourably available to
introspection than to the outer view. To adopt such a conception
176

of judgement for utterance-uptake is to resist equating judge-

ments of meaning with introspectible aspects of 'experiences of
understanding'. Sometimes it is remarked that understanding an
utterance is being disposed to behave in certain ways; under-
standing lays down lines of commitment to future action. But,
contrary to what is frequently assumed, this is not incompatible
with the view that 'judging' is what a person does in attaching a
certain significance to an utterance. For a judgement itself has a
sort of 'dispositional' aspect, namely its explanatory role vi9-a-
vis a wide range of potential behaviour. Its explanatory role is, of
course, to combine with different beliefs and intentions of the
judger to explain vastly different courses of action. No one
intention is required for the realization of a given judgement in
behaviour, hence no one sort of actions - given that actions are
sorted by the content of possible intentions with which they are
done. 7 However, the same is true of linguistic understanding:
Even understanding an order does not entail obeying the order.
And while it is true that understanding an utterance need not
involve consciously making a judgement of its significance, no
more need judging of its significance do.
In defence of the view that the utterance-uptake conception
of the exercises of linguistic ability is equivalent to the
conception of them as rule-governed judgemental practices
making up ordinary discourse, it is useful, secondly, to adopt the
idea of sorting practices by judgements. It is helpful, that is, to
adopt the idea of a kind of practice the unity of which consists,
not in the kinds of intentions or aims with which actions are done
when engaging in it, but in a certain kind of judgements, ones
which are involved in each of the (optional) activities of which
 177

the practice may consist; for activities are sorted by (possible)

aims as well as judgements of the agent. An example would be a
judgement that X had done harm to Y, which (made by Y) might
figure in Y's seeking revenge or Y's granting forgiveness, or again
(made by X) might figure in X's making reparations or X's
gloating. Applying this idea to language use, we wish to respect
the autonomy of significance; and this requires that the same
judgement of significance be combinable with a variety of
different aims. To say that the practices in which language-
possession issues are practices sorted (solely) by judgements of
significance allows that no one species of ends need be common to
speaker and addressee in an instance of the practice (i.e. in the
behaviour which reflects a judgement about one particular
utterance) - even though the same judgement of its significance
is made by both. It also allows that different instances of the
same species of practice need have no one species of aim in
common other than the speaker's intention to produce an
utterance with a certain significance. This allows e.g. that, on one
occasion, a speaker who intentionally says that p tries to
communicate the knowledge that p and, on another, tries to
deceive the addressee into believing that p. (Henceforth in this
paper 'judgemental practice' means 'practice sorted solely by a
judgement, or kind of judgements'.)
In order to take the position that the primary exercises of
linguistic ability are rule-governed judgemental practices making
up ordinary discourse, it is useful, thirdly, to invoke the fact that
concepts of significance are normative concepts. Then we can say
that judgemental practices involving concepts of significance are
rul~overned in the sense that certain specific rules attach to
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individual acts of utterance, and people's judgings about which

rilles attach to which utterances are exhibited in their behaviour
with regard to utterances. The possibility of a mismatch between
a rule judged to attach and a rule which 'objectively' attaches
corresponds to the possibility of getting the significance of an
utterance wrong. This possibility must be allowed for, if the
notions of judgement and 'rule-governed' practice are to be
appropriate. In this picture, rule-judging behaviour is the vehicle
through which understanding becomes open to view. Since the
relevant kinds of behavioural practice are sorted by the
judgements of significance which inform them the autonomy of
comprehension is allowed for, but rules can enter the picture
nonetheless, because these judgements of significance attribute
rilles of correctness to the utterances they are about. And granted
that a judgement of utterance-significance is a judgement that a
specific rule attaches to a particillar utterance, then a practice
individuated by a judgement of significance will also be
individuated by a rule - a rule his own ascription of which to an
utterance accounts for the behaviour of the judging participator:
Kinds of practice may hence be counted by the kinds of rules that
'govern' the activities which can occur in the practice.
According to the position that results, the exercise of
language-possession consists of participation in an interlocking
series of instances of specific judgemental practices of a number
of generic types, of which being a judgement of 'saying ... ' is a
prime example. And the manner of participation, in the circum-
stances of discourse, exhibits the understanding which individuals
attach to particular utterances, making agreement and
divergence in the specific character of their understanding
 179

detectable. Thus, these exercises are - to the properly equipped

observer - manifest; and they are autonomous. The account now
needs to be applied to the notion of saying. A judgemental
practice annexed to sayings will involve (optional) activity which
reflects the participants' awareness of the specific propositional
content of a saying and which reflects also their awareness of the
distinctness of saying from other categories of speech-act
significance such as asking. Let me consider first in what sense
'saying ... ' is a normative concept. And it is worth remarking
that what is here at issue is the normative status of an act in
which the speaker unqualifiedly says that p - i.e. an act of
asserting that p.
Very generally speaking, the concept of 'saying ... ' is
normative in that 'is saying that p' attributes to an utterance
various 'p'-related norms or standards of correctness. Taking the
most basic normative consideration first, a saying that p is
correct only if p. Introduction of terms for distinguishable aspects
of correctness (which must be relevant given that the concept of
'saying ... ' expresses a requirement of action) allows for the
formulation of 'if and only if' standards or norms. For example, a
saying that p is subject to the standard that it is right in the
sense of true (i.e. the speaker says truly that p) if and only if p,
right in the sense of warranted if and only if the speaker is
justified in believing that p, and right in the sense of sincere if
and only if the speaker believes that p. These descriptions of the
normativity of saying do not compete with each other. They are
all developments of a basic requirement which Dummett
expressed in the phrase 'truth is the aim of assertion' and which
could be regarded as stemming from the (constitutive) rule of
180

saying, viz that one is to say that p only if it is the case that p.
The existence of such a ru1e does not consist in the fact that
people's behaviour is invariably in obedience to it, nor even in
the fact that people cannot be justified in breaking it (for they
can be)j it consists simply in the fact that one cannot be aware of
something as a saying, without being aware of the rule; anyone
who identifies an act as a saying attaches this ru1e to the act as a
relevant standard of its assessment.
It is in virtue of the fact that people's behaviour shows that
they associate such a rule with an utterance that we can attribute
to them the judgement that the utterance in question is a saying.
It is possible for the practice annexed to a particular utterance to
consist of no further activities than the utterance itself.
Generally, however, the practice annexed to an utterance will
involve further activities, activities of producing other utterances,
as well as non-verbal accompaniments. It is in such further
activities that agreement and disagreement in the specific
character of different participators' judgements regarding a
particu1ar utterances can be expected to emerge. The practice
annexed to a particular utterance X might, hence, include such
further activities as the following: the addressee of X asks (in
connection with X) why its being the case that p is relevant to
the situation, or reminds the speaker of counter~vidence to the
truth of p, or denies that p, or asks why the speaker believes that
p, or how he is qualified to judge that pj or the addressee asks for
further evidence of the truth of p, or asks the speaker to justify
having said to p in view of the falsity of p or in view of the fact
that the speaker did not know or believe that p. Of course, the
addressee may simply pursue the conversation in a way which is
 181

relevant only because (in virtue of the utterance X) it is supposed

to be the case that p. The speaker of X, on the other hand, may
go on - with or without prompting - to give evidence of the
truth of p, including demonstrative evidence. The speaker of X
may qualify, or consider whether its being the case that p
supports something that was said before X. The speaker of X will
certainly reply to counters of all kinds, offering retractions,
corrections, and apologies or excuses for speaking falsely, or
without sufficient warrant or insincerely, all with respect to
utterance X. And, again, speaker and hearer may simply explore
what follows, given that p and given things that were said before
X.
The sense in which a rule-governed practice is being engaged
in when an act of saying is performed and attended to, and when
further activities like the above take place is this: Such activities
can be attributed to a participant only on the assumption that he
perceives some specific (Le. 'p'~eterminate) 'saying that p'-rule
as attaching to a particular utterance that he and the other
participant have witnessed. That is, imputing on him this
perception is necessary to explain his behaviour, to classify it as
attempting to induce the belief that p by X, as in a separate
utterance denying X, offering evidence for or against X,
apologizing for X, etc. Without attributing such a judgement to
the agent (speaker or addressee) these activities cannot be
attributed to him; and his behaviour remains to some extent
unintelligible. If examples of the practice just described are
sorted by the judgements of significance that people make (i.e. by
the content of judgements of the form 'is an utterance with which
the speaker says that p'), then it is equally true that examples of
182

the practice are sorted by the rule which is attributed to an

utterance in making such a judgement. Each example of the
judgemental practice annexed to sayings will hence share with
every other the property of being governed by a certain sort of
rule corresponding to the generic difference between saying and
other speech act types such as asking, but examples will by and
large differ by the specific content of the rule, corresponding to
differences in the content the utterances are judged to have. This
sums up my attempt to show that an account of the exercises of
linguistic ability in terms of understanding sayings as sayings can
be assimilated to an account of these exercises in terms of
rule-governed practices annexed to sayings.

Some Objections to Cognitivism

In this section I wish to consider certain objections that naturally

accrue to an attempt like the one I have just made, to weld
cognition and practice together in an account of linguistic
understanding.
The first line of objection arises from reductionist
expectations concerning the enterprise of characterizing the
exercises of linguistiC ability. It might be thought pointless to go
in for characterizing linguistic ability in terms of practice if the
account does not effect a reduction of the notion of a language;
so, perhaps, it is natural to object to a characterization of the
kind that I have given that it re-imports into the analysis the
very concepts which it should be analysing. 8 Now, according to
the account I have given, to have a language is - very roughly -
 183

to have a disposition to make perceptual judgements of saying,

and other speech act judgements, in confrontation with certain
patterns of sound etc.; and such an account is not pointless if it
can reasonably be maintained that a natural language is itself to
be conceived as nothing other than the idealization of such a
disposition, where the idealization is effected by reference to
certain authoritative users or uses of the sound-patterns in
question. So the expectation that the exercises of linguistic
ability should be described in non-linguistic vocabulary may be
repudiated. And it would not be advisable to press reductionist
aims by resorting to the claim that, because the account is given
in terms of the perceptual recognition of speech-acts, no
essentially linguistic concepts are imported into the picture. The
speech-act concept of saying such and such, at least, is one which
involves essentially the notion of a language; nor could its
extension be characterized without invoking whatever is
necessary to draw language itself into the picture. 9
The last issue, about 'saying' and 'language', I shall explore a
little further in the last section of this paper. Before passing on
now, it is worth stressing that the account given really does
eschew reductionism with respect to the concept of saying itself.
This is because the account involves imputing to language-users
the concept of saying, as explanatory of their behaviour; and
nothing could make an agent's possession of a concept
explanatory to someone who did not possess the concept in
question. So the point of insisting that linguistic ability issues in
practice is not to reduce 'saying' to simpler forms of behaviour,
but to insist on the fact that the character of a person's
understanding is manifest in ordinary discourse to the properly
184

equipped observer.
Reductionist aims having been foresworn, objections about
the learnability of a first language will of course arise. It might be
thought particularly objectionable to claim that a child must.
have aquiredd the notion of saying by the time he or she can
participate in language use. This thought, however, does not bear
inspection; the objectionability must attach to certain
unacceptably recondite analyses of 'saying', rather than to the
claim itself; for full participation in language use is intentional,
and what could count as participation if not saying things and
attending to sayings? The general problem of concept-acquisition
in the course of learning a first language does not need discussing
here. However, there is an aspect of the account of the previous
section which is worth stressing in connection with the topic of
language-learning. This is the distinction, which is crucial to
cognitivism about meaning, between direct observations of
utterance-meaning, based on hearing what is said, and
observations of behaviour from which is learned the meaning
which another attaches to an utterance. Any practice-conception
of meaning should allow for this distinction, because, if the sole
basis (even for those familiar with the language being spoken) on
which to observe the significance of an act of speech were to
observe the speaker's other behaviour, this would not yield a
conception of that other behaviour as constituting a practice;
such behaviour, ex hypothesi, would not be answerable to what
holds true of an utterance independently of the speaker's current
attitude towards the utterance. Granted, more needs to be said
about how a 'seems/is' distinction can be drawn for direct
perception of utterance significance; but helping ourselves to the
 185

point that there is a difference between direct observation of

meaning and observing participants' understanding of utterances,
we can say that a first language is acquired by tentative
participation in the 'direct' mode. This is participation in which
direct perceptual judgements of significance are tried out, later to
be refined or rejected. This acquisition procedure accommodates
the need for concepts to be acquired pari passu with a first
language. And the account given earlier of language-use as
participation in rule-governed practices makes the giving and
receiving of training in this acquisition-procedure part of
ordinary language use, not some special theoretical enterprise
which the acquisition of a first language could never be.
Leaving behind the issues connected with cognitivism's
foreswearing of reductionist aims, it is worth considering the
objection that the account presented here involves a vicious
regress. The objection would be that a regress of practices
threatens because the concept of 'saying ... ' requires a separate
rule-governed practice for its own application. The thought
would be that there ought to be a distinct practice underlying the
rule-governed practice annexed to sayings - viz. a rule-governed
practice annexed to applying the concept of 'saying ...'. I believe
that worries similar to this one have prevented people who are
attracted to a practice conception of linguistic understanding
from acknowledging that understanding involves judgement. The
worry arises from recognizing the distinctness of two normative
considerations viz. (1) that application of the concept of 'saying
... ' - like application on any concept - is normative in the sense
that it can be done rightly or wrongly and (2) that the concept of
saying is about norms; for not all concepts are about norms. But
186

there is a clear answer to the worry; i.e. though the two

considerations are distinct, it does not follow that the practices
through which the two kinds of normativity become manifest are
distinct.
What a judgement of significance says (as it were) can be
shown through the activities which it explains. A person's
participation in the practice surrounding an utterance can, that
is, at least reveal his comparative understanding, his agreement
or difference with a co-participant. What is revealed is, of
course, their agreement or difference over the truth conditions
and evidential conditions of the sayings in question. What they
are agreeing and disagreeing about is hence precisely what the
content of saying is. It does not, therefore, follow from
cognitivism that a grasp of the criteria for the rightness or
wrongness of attributions of saying has to underlie participation
in discourse: As if one first had to acquire the concept of saying
and (impossibly) learn how to comprehend every saying
expressible in the language before one could learn criteria of the
rightness or wrongness of specific sayings! The criteria are in fact
complementary. And learning to apply the more ordinary verbal
concepts which do not have language as their topic is the same as
learning criteria of the rightness or wrongness of specific sayings.
One does not on the cognitivist account need to acquire concepts
which have significance as their topic in advance of acquiring
concepts which have the more ordinary furniture of the world for
theirs.
Recent controversy between realists and anti-realists in the
philosophy of language has mostly ignored the distinction
between (1), the norms determining what the significance of an
 187

utterance is, and (2), the norms determining whether an

utterance is correct in what it signifies. This disregard is
somewhat surprising in view of the apparent attempt by anti-
realists of a Dummettian stamp to found conclusions about the
'non-verification transcendence' of saying~ontent on
considerations about the 'non-verfication transcendance' of
attributions of content to sayings. 10 As was remarked a
paragraph back, it has been customary among theorists of
meaning of both realist and anti-realist persuasions to identify
the 'sense' or 'core meaning' of utterances i.e. the propositional
content of sayings, with criteria or conditions of correctness,
whether correctness be taken as truth or warranted assertibility.
Given these criterial or conditional descriptions of saying-
content, the question arises whether (1) and (2) must be distinct,
to allow for the possibility of false saying~ontents and for the
possibility of contents whose assertion would not be warranted. If
the criteria were not separate, satisfaction by an utterance of the
criteria for having such and such a content would entail
satisfaction of the criteria for the truth of that content or for its
warranted assertion, an absurd consequence. It is a merit of the
account offered here that it presents a clear rationale not only for
the complementary nature of these two kinds of criteria within a
single practice, but for the difference between them. Thus,
criteria for the correct identification of sayings, being in this
story criteria for recognizing that a certain rule attaches to an
utterance, must evidently be distinct from criteria of rightness in
actions of saying, which in this story are criteria for a rule's
requirements having been met. The alternative to acknowledging
such a distinction is not scepticism
188

about meaning considered as truth~onditions, but a total

scepticism which doubts that there is any such thing as meaning
at all.
Perhaps I have not yet expressed the main cause for
suspicion of cognitivism. This, I believe, is the feeling that there
can be nothing whatever for the users of a language, particularly
speakers, to be making their judgements of utterance meaning
true to: so that whatever attitude towards utterances language
users have, it cannot be a cognitive one regarding the meanings
those utterances have independently of the speaker's own
attitude. Granted the conventional nature of linguistic meaning
and its mind-dependence, this thought is nonetheless wrong,
since an 'is right' /'seems right' distinction does exist for judge-
ments of utterance-meaning. In the next section I discuss the
general lines taken by this distinction.

On the Objectivity and Subjectivity of Understanding

Unless there is a 'seems' /'is' distinction for judgements of

utterance-meaning, there is no such thing as linguistic meaning
at all. For language is that which, existing apart from any
instance of use, serves to provide a standard of correctness for
particular judgements of the significance of speech. So our
conception of what constitutes utterance meaning had better
allow for the possibility of wrong judgement. And, because
judgements of utterance-meaning which are primarily based on
the observation of other behaviour are derivative from the more
direct judgements of meaning which that behaviour reflects, our
 189

conception of utterance meaning must allow that a direct taking

of an utterance in a certain way on a particular occasion might be
wrong, even when the person in question is familiar with the
language being spoken, and is, perhaps, the speaker of the
utterance. To insist that anyone might be wrong in such a
judgement goes with providing for the possibility that two
people, or one person at different times, might be equally well
placed to make a judgement of a particular utterance's
significance; and that is a condition of the possibility that
language should be usable for communication. Having staked
these very general claims, let me proceed more cautiously to
inquire how our 'is right' /'seems right' distinction for
attributions of significance to utterances actually works.
The way we actually operate with concepts of significance
shows that these concepts are objective to at least this extent,
that they allow for possibilities of mishearing or other forms of
misperceiving. The most plausible explanation of mishearing is
that the truth of judgements of significance depends on certain
people's dispositions to identify certain patterns of sound in
certain ways in favourable conditions for hearing those patterns of
sound. Once it has been agreed that appeal to dispositions is
necessary, then it has been conceded that correctness in
judgements of significance cannot depend solely on facts about
the speaker's current attitude towards a given utterance, or even
on the fact of speaker/addressee agreement regarding the
significance of the utterance. The truth of judgements of
significance must depend, at least, on their being in accord with
the potential deliverances of someone's disposition regarding the
sound-pattern of the utterance under favourable conditions of
190

hearing.
The question of whose dispositions are relevant now arises,
and three positions seem possible. The first is that only the
dispositions of the judger of significance are relevant. The second
is that the dispositions that are relevant are those inhering in
members of some community, to which the judger must belong.
The third is that the dispositions that are relevant are
dispositions related in some way to the utterance to which
meaning is being ascribed. With respect to the first position:
Surely it cannot be a general truth about the nature of
judgements of significance that the truth of each judgement is
relative to the judger. If this were so, two people could not make
judgements of significance which had the same true--<)r-false
evaluable content; so not even speaker and hearer could endow
their judgements of significance with the same complete
propositional content. This is the sort of view one adopts only if
forced to, by sceptical arguments. But I know of no good
arguments to this conclusion. The second position, which
espouses a conception of judgements of significance whereby they
have an 'us'-relative content - relating, through the judger of
significance, to dispositions which are authoritative within some
community that he belongs to would allow for shared judgements
of significance. But it is far from clear that such a conception
would allow for that degree of objectivity in judgements of
significance which our view of language actually possesses. The
reason is that in this picture, only co-members of a given
community can make specific meaning-judgements in common,
since every judgement one makes about utterance-meaning, if it
has a complete truth-€valuable content, is, by this hypothesis,
 191

relativized to some community that includes oneself. If the

community in question is conceived as the community of all
potential speakers of a given language, if the hypothesis
transcends any particular language or conceptual scheme, then
- because it is hard to see who is excluded - the relativity in
question is apparently not an empirical one; this relativity could
shed no light on the empirical truth-conditions of judgements of
significance. If, however, the relativity is conceived as empirical,
and as applying, e.g., to communities of actuallanguage-sharers,
i.e. people who are familiar with a given language, then the
hypothesis seems to be unduly restrictive. For we all have the
conception of a multiplicity of natural languages, with most of
which we ourselves are not familiar; and because we have this
conception, we know that we can have well-founded derivative
opinions of the significaance of utterances in those languages.
Granted, there is an observational basis - i.e. just listening - for
identifying the significance of speech in language L which basis is
available to those who possess L and is not available to those who
are not familiar with L. Still, judgements (even well-founded
judgements) of the significance of speech in L are not confined to
those who possess L. They are available to partial and total
outsiders - e.g. to phrase-book users and to radical translators;
there is no subjective requirement on judgers of significance as
such. l1 Now, the hypothesis that our judgements of significance
are relativized to the dispositions constitutive of the language in
use in an utterance would explain how they can be loose of any
supposed tie to the judger of significance. On this ground, it
seems reasonable to adopt the third view, aaccording to which
the dispositions that are relevant to the correctness of a
192

judgement of utterance meaning are related in some way to the

utterance itself.
The right general answer to the question of what the relation
is, seems to be that the identity of the language in use is a matter
of what linguistic disposition is accepted as authoritative by
speaker and addressees when deciding the question of a right
judgement of an utterance's significance. The disposition whose
identity is in question is exactly the same sort of disposition as
was earlier discussed as the disposition possession of which
constitutes an individual's possession of the ability to speak a
particular language (to which account restrictions about
favourable perceptual conditions should be added). Here,
however, it is supposed that such a disposition might be
constructed out of the dispositions of different discriminating
judgers of significance in different areas of vocabulary in a
community of interlocutors past and present. Indeed, the relevant
aspects of it could be identified by referring to people or their
writings, though that reference would be accidental, rather than
essential, to the identity of the disposition in question. But what
decides which people embody or embodied this language and in
which respect? That a person is a discriminating user of certain
vocabulary makes that person's speech worth citing. The habits
of discriminating people are what constitutes a language. Where
speaker and addressee disagree initially about which people or
written works reflect authoritative usage, there are criteria for
determining such matters. But if they cannot be determined
non-arbitrarily, there are conventional determinants, e.g.
geographical territory, of the language being spoken. (Whether
one did or did not say what one meant to say may depend on
 193

where one is standing.) If all else fails, it might come down to a

question of personal ascendancy between speaker and addressee;
and if in the end they cannot reach accord, if there is a stand-off
between them, perhaps the question is undecidable. It is not
necessary to regard the speaker as an embodiment of the precise
dispositions constitutive of the language in use. Think of
examples where the speaker is a child, a tourist, or a malaprop-
ist. The general point is that the immediate purpose of discourse
is not at all of interest to participants, since they may be
interested in preserving a language which neither of them
embodies perfectly as an instrument of communication between
themselves and a much wider circle; and therefore their
conception of the language in use is not confined to the
dispositions of themselves and the interlocutor of the moment.
To assume that judgements of significance are implicitly
relativized to the dispOSitions that the speaker has for direct
observations of significance is to overlook a dimension of
normativity that is possible not only for the judgements made by
listeners, but for speakers' judgements of significance - viz. the
dimension having to do with authoritative usage within a
community of language-users. 12 The possibility of this dimension
must be acknowledged once it is acknowledged that the
significance of an utterance is not determined by the current
attitudes that a speaker has towards his utterance. Since
judgements of significance are answerable for their correctness to
dispositions, they are necessarily at one epistemic remove for the
speaker. That is, such judgements are not answerable merely to
the character of the speaker's current experience. When
judgements of utterance-meaning are relativized to the
194

dispositions of the speaker, that accords no ultimate epistemic

privilege to the speaker, since another person can have the same
disposition and thus have the same experiential basis the speaker
has for ascribing a specific significance to the utterance. Once one
admits that judgements of utterance-significance are not 'first-
personal', either singular or plural, then one admits that there
may be a gap between a person's ability to identify a standard of
correct understanding in a given area of vocabulary and that
person's own apprehensions of utteranc~ignificance on a
particular occasion. On the other hand, whatever observational
disposition (in whomsoever embodied) a judgement of utterance-
meaning is relativized to, it will be possible for two people to
share that disposition as a matter of fact and hence to have the
same perceptual basis for ascribing significance. Direct
observational judgements of utterance-meaning are
'epistemically public', i.e. it is possible for two people
independently to have this observational warrant for judging that
a certain utterance has a certain significance, neither deriving his
justification from the other. This is important in connection with
the utility of language.
Language is an instrument of communication in the sense
that, ordinarily, the direction of any inference on an addressee's
part is from a direct judgement of the utterance's significance to
a judgement concerning the speaker's mind, e.g. from the identity
of the utterance as a saying that p to the speaker's believing that
p or knowing that p.13 An important intermediate stage in such
patterns of inference is the addressee's judgement of the speaker's
meaning, where 'speaker's meaning' is what the speaker thought
the speech-act significance of his utterance to be, in the language
 195

in use - i.e. what the speaker acted with the intention of doing
(the aim of his most basic speech-act intention). If the addressee
gets the speaker's meaning right, and the speaker's meaning is
different from the significance as judged by the authoritative
standards of the language in use (because, e.g., of a slip of the
tongue, or a misuse of vocabulary where the speaker must
acknowledge a disposition more authoritative than his own), an
'off-beat' concordance is reached which is nonetheless
satisfactory for the immediate purposes of discourse. Self-
correction on the speaker's part, or the correction from the
addressee, or later discourse, shows that it is off-beat nonethe-
less. The importance of speaker/addressee concordance for the
immediate purpose of discourse, and the fact that an addressee
must coordinate his judgement with the speaker's if concordance
is to be reached, may dictate that 'speaker's meaning' in the
sense outlined above is a secondary standard of the 'real'
significance of an utterance. However, speaker's meaning in the
above sense incorporates a concept of 'significance' according to
which significance must be judged by an epistemically public
standard. Moreover, judgement (perhaps mistaken) of utterance
meaning as determined by the latter standard is ordinarily, for an
addressee, epistemically prior to any judgement on his part of
speaker's meaning. It must be so, whenever language use is
instrumental in the sense of providing the first step of an
inference.
To the extent that either doctrine is acceptable, what is true
in subjectivism about significance is closely connected with local
non-realism about significance: Subjectivism and non-realism in
their plausible versions centre on the same point, that there is
196

only one kind of direct perceptual basis (though it is available to

different people) for the ascription of significance to an utterance,
a basis of perceiving it (in a certain sensory mode) as possessing
such and such significance - e.g. hearing it as a saying that p.
What follows from this, concerning anti-realism about
significance, is that accord with the deliverances of an
authoritative disposition to judge on that basis is final. There is
no other sort of observations of an utterance which might be
relevant to the final verdict. Hence judgements of significance are
not subject to correction from other sources within the web of
belief; they do not transcend verification of a certain kind. What
follows, concerning subjectivism, is that criteria of 'right
judgement' about significance relate to the judging--dispositions
of authoritative judgers (i.e. subjects of experience); the criteria
are essentially subjective in that sense. The obvious comparison
is to criteria of 'right judgement' of an object's colour; these
involve essential reference to the deliverances of the judgemental
dispositions of discriminating judgers. In neither area does a flat
verdict of 'unreal' or 'subjective' have anything to recommend
it.14

Notes

1 I wish to thank Barry Stroud, Bill Child, and Jennifer

Church for comments.
2 Erik Stenius, Wittgenstein's 'Tractatus': A Critical
Exposition of the Main Lines of Thought (Basil Blackwell 1964),
section IX.
3 John McDowell, 'Anti-Realism and the Epistemology of
Understanding' in Parret and Bouveresse (eds.) Meaning and
Understanding (Walter de Gruyter, 1981).
4 This is the leading idea of a seminal work on the subject,
 197

Speech Acts, by John Searle (Cambridge University Press 1969).

5 This and related issues are usefully pinpointed in Colin
McGinn, Wittgenstein on Meaning (Basil Blackwell 1984).
6 See Donald Davidson, Inquiries into Truth and
Interpretation (Clarendon Press, Oxford 1984), footnote p. 141 to
'Belief and the Basis of Meaning'.
7 This is not to say that no later behaviour of an agent can
be relevant to the question of whether he did really make the
judgement which apparently explains his present behaviour. It is,
however, to deny that a 'dispositional analysis' in terms of
non-mentalistic behaviour can be given of the judgement.
S Davidson comes close to expressing the reductionist hope
at several points in Inquiries into Truth and Interpretation. See,
especially, the article cited at (6).
9 Despite several writers on this subject, e.g. Peacocke,
Appiah.
10 See Dummett, 'The Philosophical Basis of Intuitionistic
Logic'in Truth and Other Enigmas (Duckworth 1978).
11 Saul A. Kripke, Wittgenstein on Rules and Private
Languages (Basil Blackwell, Oxford 1982) does not provide any
rationale for his conclusion that there is such a requirement.
12 E.g. Davidson op. cit. is one who seems to dismiss this
dimension of objectivity.
13 In line with this, it would seem that the background facts
that a hearer must know - including psychological facts about
the speaker - in order to assign a determinate significance to an
utterance do not include the fact that the speaker intended to
perform an act with such and such significance.
14 This essay was given on 21 July, 1986. Between that
time and the time of receiving proofs for correction in November
1989, my views on some points have altered considerably. I regret
that it is not feasible to adjust my text to register those changes,
but I am delighted and honoured to be given this forum for the
issues introduced in the essay, particularly those of the final
section.
 10

ON THE LOGIC OF PRACTICAL EVALUATION

Stephan Korner

It will, I think, be generally admitted that theoretical judgement,

i.e. the ascertainment of actual or possible facts (states and
processes), and practical evaluation, i.e. the evaluation of
practicabilities, are to some extent analogous. There is, for
example, some analogy between, on the one hand, believing that
something is the case, disbelieving it and taking a neutral
position about it and, on the other hand, being in favour of
realizing a practicability, being against its realization and being
indifferent to these alternatives. Again, there is an analogy
between theoretical and practical necessity, possibility and
impossibility or absurdity. This analogy has been explicitly noted
by Hobbes (in chapter XIV of Leviathan) and is implicit in
Kant's distinction between theoretical reason, which imposes
logical and transcendental constraints on what can be the case,
and practical reason, which imposes logical and moral constraints
on what can be willed. A mere reliance on analogy may, however,
lead to confusion - especially on the level of formal or logical
reasoning, which is the main topic of this essay.1
The essay begins with a preliminary comparison of
theoretical judgement and practical evaluation (§1). There

199
P. Geach (ed.), Logic and Ethics, 199-224.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers.
200

follows an account of the stratification of practical attitudes and

its relevance to the logic of practical evaluation (§2). It is then
shown that - and why - the stratification of practical attitudes is
a condition of their intersubjective generalization and
universalization. (§3). After illustrating the variety of
practicabilities, with special reference to deontic and preferential
systems (§4), the essay ends with the proposal of some
guide-lines for the construction of a formal logic of practical
evaluation (§5).

§1 A Preliminary Compari3on of Theoretical Judgement

and Practical Evaluation

Since theoretical judgement consists in ascertaining actual or

possible facts, and since practical evaluation consists in the
evaluation of practicabilities, i.e. a kind of possible facts, it seems
useful to compare this kind of possible facts with other kinds of
them . The most general kind of possibility is, of course, logical
possibility or internal consistency, as defined by the principles of
(theoretical) logic. For the present purpose it is not necessary to
discuss the problem of alternative logics. It will be sufficient to
assume that our logic is a version of the classical or the
intuitionist logic - with one modification, namely the
acknowledgement of inexact predicates and, hence, of neutral
propositions. A predicate is inexact if it admits of border-line
cases to which it can with equal correctness be either assigned or
refused, though not, of course, both assigned and refused). A
proposition is neutral if it expresses that a certain object (or
 201

ordered set of objects) is a border-line case of a certain

predicate.2
The concept of logical possibility is needed for the definition
of logical impossibility or absurdity, of logical necessity, of logical
deducibility, as well as for the definition of metaphysical,
scientific and other kinds of non-logical possibility, of which the
notion of practical possibility or practicability is here of special
interest. If, as I believe I have shown, (see, e.g. Met loco cit.) a
person's way of organizing his beliefs ipso facto involves his
acceptance of an immanent metaphysics or categorial framework,
then whatever will be consistent with the principles defining it,
will for him be metaphysically possible. Again, a person's
acceptance of certain scientific principles - as opposed to merely
provisional conjectures - will, together with the demand that his
thinking be logically consistent with these principles, constitute
his conception of scientific possibility. A practical possibility or
practicability is a possibility which can be realized (turned into
an actual fact) as a result of individual or cooperative voluntary
actions. It is not difficult to give a minimal definition of
'voluntary action' which is independent of accepting a speculative
or transcendent metaphysics implying some version of
determinism or indeterminism. The definition is based on the
assumption that human beings may choose to intervene or not to
intervene in the course of nature and that such a chosen
intervention or non-intervention appears to make a difference to
it. The indeterminists and the determinists (e.g. Hume, An
Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding Section VIII, Part 1
footnote 1) agree that they are under the impression that the
chosen intervention or non-intervention is not wholly determined
202

by the preceding course of nature and that it therefore makes a

difference to its subsequent course. Yet, whereas the
indeterminists believe that the impression is, at least, sometimes
veridical, the determinists regard it as always illusory.
A practicability may be a single possible action or a more or
less complex set of possible actions. It may in particular be the
totality of a person's possible actions, as constrained by a system
of maxims such as Justinian's corpus juris or a system of maxims
put forward as a purely imaginary illustration of a deontic
structure. That a person's possible actions, as constrained by a
system of maxims, constitute a practicability, is a matter of
theoretical judgement and must be clearly distinguished from any
purely self-regarding, prudential, moral or other practical
evaluation of the practicability. Similar remarks apply to the
totality of a person's possible actions as constrained by their
ranking according to various non~valuative criteria, e.g.
profitability. That a certain possible action is more profitable for
its performer than a certain alternative possible action is a
theoretical judgement, which does not imply that the person
making it is, or is not, in favour of realizing the more profitable
practicability. Regarding both, the ascertainment of practica-
bilities and their practical evaluation as belonging to "practical
thinking" is unobjectionable, so long as it does not obscure the
difference between theoretical judgement, including the
discernment of practicabilities, and their practical evaluation.
The practical evaluation of a practicability consists, or
results, in a practical pro-attitude, a practical anti-attitude or a
practical attitude of indifference towards the practicability. A
practical pro-attitude towards a practicability includes a decision
 203

to realize it or to cooperate in its realization; a practical anti-

attitude towards a practicability includes a decision to prevent
its realization or to cooperate in its prevention; a practical
attitude of indifference towards a practicability is neutral
between actions appropriate to the realization and actions
appropriate to the prevention of the practicability. There are, as
has been pointed out in the introduction, some obvious
similarities between theoretical judgement and practical
evaluation. In order to make them clearer and to pave the way
for the exhibition of dissimilarities, it will prove useful if we
begin by restricting ourselves to the consideration of practical
attitudes of the first level. A person's practical attitude is of first
level if it is directed towards a practicability which does not
involve the person's having a practical attitude. For example a
person's practical (pro-, anti- or indifferent) attitude towards
somebody's smoking a cigarette is a practical attitude of first
level, whereas e.g. the person's practical anti-attitude towards a
practicability involving his having a practical pr<rattitude
towards smoking a cigarette is a practical attitude of second
level.
A person may hold two logically inconsistent beliefs, i.e. two
beliefs of which one logically implies the negation of the other.
Although there may exist certain abnormal situations in which a
person is explicitly aware of believing and of disbelieving the
same proposition, a person's believing two inconsistent
propositions is normally due to his not being aware that at least
one of them is logically implied by a proposition which he
believes to be true, even though he is not aware of the logical
implication. It is well known and frequently noted that in the
204

practical sphere the situation is quite different. It is quite normal

that a person is explicitly aware of two practically inconsistent
attitudes - whether or not the awareness is mediated by a
practical implication of which he is or is not aware.
Compared with the notions of inconsistency and logical
implication of theoretical judgements, the notions of the
inconsistency of practical attitudes and of the logical implication
between practical attitudes are badly in need of further analysis.
If we restrict ourselves to first level practical attitudes, the
analysis of "practical inconsistency" and "practical implication",
as they may briefly be called, is fairly easy. To show this, one
makes the reasonable assumption that a person may hold a
conjunction of practical attitudes; that a practical pro-attitude
and a practical anti-attitude are negations of each other; and
that the negation of an indifferent practical attitude towards a
practicability is the very same indifferent practical attitude. For
to require the replacement of an indifferent practical attitude by
a pro- or anti-attitude and to consider either replacement
equally correct, is to remain indifferent in the sense of the above
definition of practical indifference. (It may seem reasonable to
define the negation of an indifferent practical attitude as
requiring its replacement by a random choice between a pro- or
an anti-attitude, in which case our subsequent definitions would
require some fairly obvious modifications.)
Having defined the conjunction and negation of first level
practical attitudes, it is easy to define first level practical
inconsistency in terms of theoretical inconsistency. A conjunction
of two first level practical attitudes is practically inconsistent if,
and only if, neither of them is a practical attitude of indifference
 205

and if the proposition asserting their joint realizability is

according to the logic of theoretical judgement logically
impossible. A practical attitude of first level practically implies
another practical attitude of first level if, and only if, the
conjunction of the former and the negation of the latter is
practically inconsistent. Thus the conjunction of a practical
pro-attitude and a practical anti-attitude towards smoking is
practically inconsistent; and the practical pro-attitude
practically implies the negation of the practical anti-attitude. All
this is rather obvious. Indeed, so long as we restrict ourselves to
the consideration of first level attitudes or of higher level
attitudes of the same level, the inconsistency of practical
attitudes appears to manifest the same structure as the
inconsistency of theoretical beliefs.

§2 On the Stratification of Practical Attitudes and

its Relevance to the Logic of Practical Evaluation

I am not capable of consciously believing a certain proposition

and at the same time disbelieving that I believe it. Nor am I
capable of consciously disbelieving a certain proposition and at
the same time believing that I believe it . The position is quite
different in the field of practical evaluation where such
stratification of practical attitudes is quite familiar. Thus, I may
be conscious of a practical pro-attitude to smoking and at the
same time of a practical anti-attitude to my practical
pro-attitude. And I may be realizing both attitudes at the same
time, e.g. when smoking in the waiting room of my doctor, whom
206

I have asked to cure me of smoking by aversion therapy. This

kind of conflict is described by Kant as a conflict between the
will or the "higher faculty of desire" 3 and the lower desires or
inclinations . It is implicit in Aristotle's distinction between
/3oVATJ(n( and f.1I'LOllJ,Lio: and has recently been given much
attention by economists. (See e.g. A. Sen's "Choice, Ordering and
Morality" in Practical Reason (edited by S. Korner, Oxford and
Yale 1974)).
A person's higher and his lower practical attitudes need not,
of course, conflict in the described manner. A person may well
have a practical pro-attitude towards his having a practical
anti-attitude or pro-attitude, e.g. when he has a practical pro-
attitude towards his practical anti-attitude to smoking or a
practical pro-attitude towards his practical pro-attitude to
regular exercise. Again a person may have a practical attitude of
indifference towards a lower attitude, where a practical attitude
of indifference must not be confused with the absence of any
practical attitude. In order to distinguish between various kinds
of stratification and in order to exhibit its relevance to the logic
of practical thinking, it is useful to introduce the following simple
and natural locutions and symbols. Thus the distinction, made
earlier, between first and second level practical attitudes can be
extended to any finite number of levels - even though talking of
practical attitudes above the third level may easily become
unrealistic. Let p be a practicability which does not involve
anybody's having a practical attitude, e.g. a person's, say S's,
smoking a cigarette. Then Ss pro-, anti- or indifferent practical
attitude towards p, briefly S + p, S - P or S:!: P is a practical
attitude of first level. If it does not matter which practical
 207

attitude 5 is holding we may write 5 p. The general form of a

I(

second level practical attitude held by 5 is 5 1([5 p] and of a

I(

third level practical attitude 5 [5 [5 p]]. The formation of

I( I( I(

higher level attitudes is mutatis mutandis represented in the same

way. Of two immediately adjoining practical attitudes the higher
will be said to "dominate" the lower. A practical attitude which
dominates another and is itself not dominated will be called
"supreme".
The realization of a practical attitude of first level towards a
practicability p may, or may not, replace it by its negation. More
precisely, the realization of a first level practical pro-attitude
towards p is the realization of p; the realization of a first level
anti-attitude towards p is the realization of Np; and the
realization of an indifferent practical attitude towards p is the
realization of the neutral position Up, i.e. the realization of either
p or of NP. In a somewhat similar manner the realization of a
practical attitude of second level towards a practical attitude of
first level mayor may not replace the latter by its negation.
More precisely, the realization of a second order pro-attitude or
attitude of indifference leaves a dominated first level attitude
unchanged. The realization of a second order anti-attitude
replaces a dominated first level pro-attitude by a first level
anti-attitude, a dominated first level anti-attitude by a first
level pro-attitude and leaves a dominated indifferent attitude
unchanged since such an attitude admits of a realization as either
a pro- or an anti-attitude.
It seems useful to represent the various vertical step-by-step
realizations of second level practical attitudes schematically:
208

1. S + [S + p] -i [S + p] -i Pi S + [S - p] -i [S - p] -i "'Pi
S + [S ± p] -i [S ± p] -i Up
2. S ± [S + p] -i [S + p] -i Pi S ± [S - p] -i [S - p] -i "'Pi
S± [S± p] -i [S± p] -i Up
3. S - [S + p] -i [S - p] -i "'Pi S - [S - p] -i [S + p] -i Pi
S- [S± p] -i [S± p] -i Up
The step-by-step realization of third and higher level practical
attitudes proceeds in the same manner.
We are now ready to extend our definitions of "conjunction",
"negation", "practical inconsistency" and "practical implication"
to practical attitudes of any level. The definition of a conjunction
of attitudes remains the same, since we may assume that a
person may have practical attitudes of the same or of different
level. As regards the negation of practical attitudes, we must
distinguish between the case where a practical attitude and its
negation are of the same level and the case where they are of
different levels. In the former case our definition is the same as
the definition given for two practical attitudes of first level. That
is to say two practical attitudes of the same level are negations of
each other if, and only if, one is a practical pro-attitude and the
other a practical anti-attitude towards the same practicability or
if each of them is a practical attitude of indifference towards the
same practicability. I call this kind of negation "opposition".
If two practical attitudes are of different level, then they are
negations of each other if, and only if, one of them, say a,
dominates the other, say b, if a is a practical anti-attitude and b
is not a practical attitude of indifference. Thus a person's anti-
attitude towards his pro-attitude to smoking and his proattitude
to smoking are negations of each other. So are a person's
 209

anti-attitude towards his anti-attitude towards helping his

neighbour and his anti-attitude towards helping his neighbour.
On the other hand a person's pro-attitude towards one of his
anti- or indifferent attitudes and the so dominated attitude are
not negations of each other. I call this kind of negation
"discordance" .
The general notion of practical inconsistency can be defined
as follows. A conjunction of two practical attitudes (of any level)
is practically inconsistent if, and only if, neither of them is a
practical attitude of indifference and if the proposition asserting
their joint realizability is according to the logic of theoretical
judgement logically impossible. This definition is verbally the
same as the definition restricted to practical attitudes of first
level. Yet, unlike that definition, it covers cases of practical
inconsistency which, like the practical inconsistency of discordant
practical attitudes, has no parallel in theoretical judgement - for
the simple reason that the stratification of practical attitudes is
peculiar to them In terms of practical inconsistency and negation
one can define practical implication as holding between two
practical attitudes if, and only if, the conjunction of one of them
and the negation of the other is practically inconsistent.
Just as the concept of logical inconsistency (consistency,
implication) constitutes the core of the (any) logic of theoretical
judgement or, briefly, T-Iogic,4 so the concept of practical
inconsistency (consistency, implication) constitutes the core of
the (any) logic of practical evaluation or, briefly, E-Iogic. The
preceding analysis of this concept was intended to clear the
ground for the construction of a formal system of E-Iogic. Some
comments on the details of this task will be made later (§5).
210

§9 The Stratification of Practical Attitudes as a Condition

of their Intersubjective Generalization

The stratification of practical attitudes makes it possible for a

person to have a (dominating) higher level practical attitude
towards his continued possession or abandonment of a lower
(dominated) attitude. It also makes it possible for a person to
have a higher level practical attitude towards a practicability
which involves his sharing the lower attitude with one or more
persons, with the members of a certain class of persons or with
everybody else. Consider, for example, a person, say SI' who has
a practical anti-attitude towards a certain concrete practicability
or kind of practicability p, say smoking, who also has a practical
pro-attitude towards this practical anti-attitude and towards
sharing it with others. (Instead of considering pro-attitudes
towards anti-attitudes we could, of course, consider different
dominating or dominated practical attitudes.) The practical
attitude of first level held by SI' can be expressed by
(1) SI - p, his practical attitude of second level by
(2) SI + [SI - pl·
His extending the dominated attitude to one more person, a finite
number of persons, a class of persons or everybody, can be
expressed respectively by
(3) SI + [SI and S2 - p]
(4) SI + [SI and S2 and S3 and . .. Sn - p]
(5) SI + [S - p, provided S is a member of a certain
class C1
(6) SI + [H - p], where His the class of all 'normal' human
beings.
 211

The last of these schematic formulations expresses a second

level practical pro-attitude of S1 towards a practicability in
which everybody including himself has a practical anti-attitude
towards p - e.g. not speaking the truth. The type of universaliz-
ation or universality expressed by sentences of form (6) is
implicit in moral attitudes. It must be distinguished from two
different types of universality, with which it tends to be confused.
One is a first level practical pro-attitude of form
(7) S1 + (a state of affairs in which everybody performs a
certain kind of action) e.g. speaks the truth.
The other is a first level practical pro-attitude of form
(8) S1 + (a state of affairs in which a law has been passed
requiring everybody to perform a certain kind of action)
e.g. a law requiring to speak the truth.
Although any principle of form (6), in expressing a practical
attitude of second level, clearly differs from any principle of form
(7) or (8), which express practical attitudes of first level, it may
be useful to exemplify the difference. Thus Hitler had a first level
practical pro-attitude towards a state of affairs in which every
German Jew would be either killed or driven to suicide. But even
Hitler would have considered impracticable a state of affairs in
which everybody - including every Jew - would have a second
level pro-attitude towards Hitler's practical attitude of first
level. Again the mentioned impracticable pro-attitude of second
level is clearly different from Hitler's and many another Nazi's
first level practical attitude towards passing a law ensuring the
extermination of all German Jews.
It seems worthwhile to consider Kant's categorical
imperative in this connection and to show that in spite of its
212

appearing to exemplify (8), it exemplifies or, at least, much more

closely resembles (6). The categorical imperative requires us "to
act only on that maxim through which" we "can at the same
time will that it should become a universal law". The key-words
in this formulation are the words "can will". If they stood for a
first level practical attitude, then Hitler could have willed the
extermination of the Jews to be incorporated in a universal law.
But Kant's text leaves no doubt that in his view Hitler could
have desired, but could not have willed it. The main Kantian
reason for the distinction between what can be desired and what
can be willed, is that according to Kant two human beings can
differ in their desires, but not in their moral will. To will a
maxim to become a universal law in Kant's sense of "willing"
implies having a practical attitude towards a practicability in
which everybody has the same lower practical attitude. It should
be noted that, contrary to Kant's view, the converse implication
does not hold. For a practical attitude of form (6), e.g. 8 1 +
[H - p] may well be opposed to another person's practical
attitude of the same form, say 82 + [H - q]. In other words, Kant
not only holds that moral willing involves possessing practical
attitudes of at least second level towards everybody's having a
certain practical attitude, but also that the content of a person's
moral will admits no alternatives.
Being universal in the sense of (6) is a necessary condition of
a practical attitude's being moral. It is not a sufficient condition.
In order to be a moral attitude, a practical attitude must also be
supreme, i.e. undominated. It might be argued that for a
practical attitude to be a moral attitude, it must - apart from
being universal in the sense of (6) and of being supreme - also
 213

satisfy some further conditions. For the present purpose it is,

however, sufficient to assume that moral attitudes are universal
and supreme or, even more modestly, that - whether or not this
is so - the concept of universal, supreme attitudes is not empty.
(A reader who accepts only the more modest thesis is advised to
replace the term "moral", whenever it subsequently occurs, by
some other term, e.g. "supreme and universal").
The preceding, unavoidably brief, discussion of the stratifi-
cation of practical attitudes, shows that the meaning of a moral
attitude as well as of other kinds of practical attitudes depends
not only on the kind of practicability which is their object, but
also on the place of the attitude in the hierarchy of a person's
practical attitudes. Thus two persons may share the same
practical attitude, which nevertheless may be a moral attitude
for one of them and a merely prudential, self-regarding or idio-
syncratic practical attitude for the other. A case in point is the
difference between a Christian's and a Moslem's practical
pro-attitude towards monogamy. For the Christian it is a moral
attitude, while for the Moslem it may be prudential, self-
regarding or idiosyncratic.
By recognizing the stratification of practical attitudes and
the resulting possibility of having practical attitudes towards
practical attitudes, shared with others, one is enabled to
characterize not only moral attitudes, but also a variety of other
practical attitudes and to distinguish them from each other. An
example are prudential attitudes in Butler's, or close to Butler's,
sense of "prudence" as "that reasonable self-love, the end of
which is our own wordly interest" . Prudential attitudes may be
universal. Thus Polonius' advice to be neither a borrower nor a
214

lender presumably expressed his practical anti-attitude towards

a practicability in which every person has a pro-attitude towards
borrowing or lending. Prudential attitudes may, however, also be
restricted to a class of people. Thus a member of a certain
professional class may have a prudential attitude towards a
practicability in which he shares a certain practical attitude with
his professional colleagues. What all prudential attitudes in
Butler'S sense have in common is their being subject to morality.
A prudential attitude may be the object of a moral pro-attitude
or of a moral attitude of indifference, but not of a moral anti-
attitude.
The fact that a person may have a practical attitude towards
a practicability involving a practical attitude which he shares or
does not share with another person, should not obscure the
fundamental difference between practical attitudes and
evaluations on the one hand and beliefs and the ascertainment of
actual or possible facts, including practicabilities, on the other.
To believe that a certain proposition describes a practicability
which involves the evaluation of another practicability is not to
evaluate either the former or the latter practicability. It is to
make a theoretical judgement or to claim the ascertainment of an
actual or possible fact. Once a practicability has been ascertained
by a person, it may become the subject of his theoretical
judgement or of his practical evaluation. Thus having ascertained
the practicability of Polonius' advice, the person may try to
ascertain the means of ensuring its realization or may try to
arrive at a practical attitude towards it, which - depending on its
place in his hierarchy of values - may turn out to be moral,
prudential or neither.
 215

§4 On the Variety of Practicabilities,

Especially Preferential and Deontic Systems

The ascertainment of practicabilities is a matter of theoretical

judgement, which may be followed or accompanied by practical
evaluation. The ascertained practicabilities which are subjected
to such evaluation and thus become the subject of practical pro-,
anti- and indifferent attitudes vary greatly in complexity and
structure. So far our main attention has been given to structural
differences due to the stratification of practical attitudes and,
hence, to differences between those practicabilities which do and
those which do not involve somebody's practical attitude of first
or higher level. The following brief remarks deal with the
difference between concrete practicabilities, practicability-dasses
and practicability-systems.
A practicability is concrete if, and only if, it may become the
object of a practical attitude by an ad hoc decision, which is not
based on any general criterion or precedent. A practicability-
class is a class of practicabilities all of which are considered as
demanding the same practical evaluation, if they are to be
evaluated at all. Examples of practicability-classes are 'being an
act of stealing', 'helping a person in need', 'supporting a certain
political party' etc. Practicability-classes are usually inexact, i.e.
admit of borderline cases, the decisions about which may become
precedents for later decisions. Whether a practicability belongs to
a practicability-class, normally depends not only on the physical
aspects of the practicability, but also on what the agent who
considers its realization believes or desires to be the case. 5 A
practicability-system is a system of relations between practica-
216

bilities, as well as a system of relations between actual and

possible facts on the one hand and practicabilities on the other.
The two kinds of practicability--systems which have been
most widely discussed are preferential and deontic systems. Both
kinds of systems are not only among the topics of moral
philosophy, but also among those of other disciplines. Thus
preferential systems are of special interest to economists and
psychologists, while deontic systems are of special interest to
theoretical jurists. Within moral philosophy utilitarians base
their ethics on some preferential system, while "contractarians"
base their ethics at least in part on some deontic system. It goes
without saying that for some moral philosophers the morally
evaluated practicabilities are neither preferential nor deontic
systems.
For the sake of brevity only one type of preferential ordering
will be considered, namely a strict linear ordering of practica-
bilities i.e. one in which the ordering relation has the same
properties as the relation 'smaller than' in a finite set of integers.
What will be said about this type of ordering can easily be
modified to fit other types. Let us then consider a finite set of
mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive practicabilities which
are ordered by a relation 'smaller than' in a certain respect or in
certain respects (where we assume that there is no difficulty in
combining the comparisons in a number of different respects into
an overall comparison). Examples are 'smaller in size', 'smaller in
profitability', 'smaller in the amount of pleasure produced' etc ..
In accordance with the assumption that a given finite set of
practicabilities is ordered by the relation 'smaller than' in a
certain respect or in certain respects, briefly '<', the set of
 217

practicabilities can be represented by a strict linear ordering PI'

P2' ... Pn , where PI is the practicability which is smallest and Pn
is the practicability which is greatest in the considered respect or
respects. On the basis of this ordering we can characterize the
maximal practicability as the practicability of realizing Pn rather
than the other practicabilities. To characterize Pn as maximal is
to make a theoretical judgement and not a practical evaluation.
The theoretical judgement merely provides a practicability which
can be supplemented by a moral, prudential or other practical
evaluation,. If the ordering is produced by a hedonistic criterion
of 'smaller than', the maximal practicability will for a hedonist
be the object of a moral pro-attitude. But, say, a Kantian who
agrees with the hedonist's theoretical judgement will reject his
practical evaluation.
A more detailed treatment of preferential systems would
have to consider the possibility of having preferences for some
preferential systems over others, i.e. the possible stratification of
preferential systems. Once this possibility is recognized, the
possible relationships between a hierarchy of practical preferences
and a hierarchy of practical pro-, anti- and indifferent attitudes
would have to be investigated. I, for one, would be prepared to
argue that the function of higher level practical attitudes,
including moral attitudes, could to a large extent be taken over
by higher level practical preferences, including moral preferences.
Yet because of the central role played by the trichotomy of
morally good, morally bad and morally indifferent actions in
most people's moral thinking, it seems preferable to use the
stratification of practical attitudes as the main instrument for the
analysis of the logic and, more generally, the logical and non-
218

logical structure of practical evaluation.

As regards deontic systems of practicability, it is again
important to distinguish their characterization by means of
theoretical judgements from their practical evaluation. 6 A
deontic practicability system is a system or code of maxims of
the form : 'If a situation described by the attribute or conjunction
of attributes P is the case, then an action described by the
conjunction of attributes Q is required from a certain person or
group of persons'. A maxim of this form is a theoretical
judgement describing a practicability, which may be part of a
code of a still valid or by now invalid law or may have some
other source. As was the case with preferential systems, a maxim
may become the object of practical evaluation. In order to discuss
deontic practicabilities which are constituted by codes of maxims,
it will be convenient to call the antecedent of a maxim its
'deontic condition' and the consequent of a maxim its 'deontic
requirement'.
It is important to note that even if every maxim of a code of
maxims characterizes a practicability, it does not follow that the
whole code or conjunction of maxims or every of its subcon-
junctions characterizes a practicability. For this to be so, some
additional conditions must be fulfilled. First, the conjunction of
maxims must be logically consistent, i.e. conform to the
principles of the logic which underlies the theoretical thinking of
the person formulating the maxims. Second, in any conjunction of
maxims the conjunction of deontic conditions must be coordinate
with the conjunction of deontic requirements, in the sense that if
the former conjunction is logically consistent, then so is the
latter. Last, if a conjunction of deontic conditions describes an
 219

actual fact (state or process), then the corresponding conjunction

of deontic requirements must be practicable. It is worth
emphasising that these conditions - of logical consistency,
deontic coordination and deontic practicability - all belong to
theoretical judgement and the logic constraining it.
A code of maxims, i.e. a conjunction of maxims satisfying the
three mentioned conditions is a practicability or system of
practicabilities, which may become the object of a great many
different practical attitudes. To get an idea of their variety and
scope it is useful to compare the practical attitude of ardent
Nazis, ardent anti-Nazis and other groups of German citizens
living in Hitler's Germany to Hitler's racial laws. A person's
morality may be fully expressible by a supreme practical pro-
attitude towards a moral code, e.g. the decalogue or a more
complex system of maxims. It may be incapable of being so
formulated and it may be capable of being to a limited extent
captured by a code of maxims.
While a detailed discussion of the function of codes of
maxims in practical evaluation is here out of the question,7 it
seems proper to draw attention to two important general points.
One is the possibility of a hierarchy of codes of conduct in which
the higher code contains maxims which to some extent determine
the construction of the lower. Such a hierarchy is familiar in legal
systems in which a constitutional law limits the legislative power
of parliament, which in turn limits the legislative power of
subordinate bodies. The other point is that codes of maxims are
frequently constructed and used as simplifying idealizations of
more complex systems of moral and prudential attitudes. Thus
professional codes, e.g. of the medical or legal profession, may
220

inter alia make it possible to arrive at quick decisions, which

- even if they are sometimes morally or prudentially wrong-
cause on the whole less damage than correct decisions which are
made too late and, thereby, cause considerable harm.

§5 Some Guide-Lines for the Construction of a Formal Logic

of Practical Evaluation

In constructing a formal system of practical evaluation, with

particular emphasis on its underlying logic, one must first of all
keep in mind that the practical attitudes considered are not
statements, or attributes but particulars. This is so, whether the
attitudes are attitudes of first level or attitudes of higher level,
i.e. attitudes dominating other attitudes. Every practical attitude
considered in the formal system under consideration is the
attitude of one and the same person, even if it dominates a
practicability which involves the practical attitudes of others.
While practical attitudes are particulars, the relations which
may hold between them are, of course, expressed by propositions.
Here we are interested in those relations between practical
attitudes which are sufficiently similar to the logical relations
between factual propositions to be called "relations of evaluative
logic" or "E-relations" in particular E-inconsistency and
~implication. The formal definition of these relations
presupposes the prior definitions of various operations by means
of which elementary practical attitudes are combined into
"molecular" ones. Briefly, if a, b, c, d, are variables for practical
attitudes held by a person, we can express the inversion
 221

(negation, complementation) of, say, a by aj the complex

consisting of a and b by a&b, the disjunction of a and b by a#b.
Among the equivalences needed for the combination of practical
attitudes and the operations upon them we should have: ~ ::
a#o, iJb :: a&o. (In choosing the symbols for attitude-negation
conjunction and disjunction, e.g. in the preceding manner, it is
advisable to choose symbols which differ from the symbols of
propositional negation, conjunction and disjunction, e.g. 'N', 'A',
'v'.) The analysis of logical relations between practical attitudes
can - and should - proceed without infinitistic assumptions, so
that universal and existential quantifiers serve merely as
abbreviations for conjunctions and disjunctions.
Our earlier definitions of practical inconsistency and
implication can be formalized as follows . Two practical attitudes,
say, a and b are practically inconsistent , briefly 0 (a & b) iff the
N

joint realization of a and b is logically impossible (iff the factual

proposition that a and b are jointly realizable violates the
accepted theoretical or T-Iogic). A practical attitude a
practically or evaluatively implies a practical attitude b or, in
symbols, a rEv b iff 0 (a & 0). Although the corresponding
N

logical implication of the T-Iogic is a relation between

propositions, say p f- T q, while a f- Ev b is a relation between
practical attitudes, the formalization of the latter relation will
give rise to some questions which are familiar from the
formalization of the former.
One of these is the question of the so-called paradoxes of
logical implication, arising from the introduction of irrelevant
components into the antecedent or consequent of a logical
222

implication. Thus if P I- T q is valid, then p " i I- T q v j is also

valid , even though i and j are irrelevant components of the latter
implication, in the sense that each of them can be replaced by its
negation, without affecting the validity of the logical implication.
While some philosophical logicians are so disturbed by this
sCH:alled paradox of logical implication that they adopt, or
search for, new systems which are free from it, it seems to me
more reasonable to be content with characterizing the irrelevant
components by means of the systems in which they occur. 8 A
formalization of practical implications which allows for the
introduction of irrelevant conjuncts into their antecedents and
irrelevant disjuncts into their consequents could - and in my
view should - be treated in the same way.
A related problem, which in the context of practical
evaluation may seem more serious, concerns the elimination of
relevant components from the practicabilities which are the
object of practical attitudes. 9 It will be sufficient to consider
some simple cases of first level practical attitudes towards
practicable actions, since what will be said about them can be
easily extended to deontic and other complex systems. Thus a
person may have a pro-attitude towards the conjunction of two
practicabilities but not towards one of its conjuncts by itself. For
example, a person may have a pro-attitude towards buying
Cigarettes and buying matches, but not to either of these actions
by themselves. This situation may be represented by
(So + PI & P2) & (So + PI) & (So + P2)· It differs from the
situation in which a person has a pro-attitude towards PI and
towards P2 and hence towards their conjunction, Le. from
 223

(So + PI & P2) & (SO + PI) & (SO + P2)' In other words we
must - and can easily - distinguish between practically or
evaluatively inseparable conjunctions of practicabilities on the
one hand and practically or evaluatively separable ones on the
other. The difference might be symbolized by distinguishing
between So + PI & P2 and So + (PI & P2)' Similar remarks
apply to disjunctions. Thus a person may have a pro-attitude
towards paying his debt by cheque or paying it by cash, so long
as it is being paid. This disjunction, which may be symbolized by
So + (PlfP2) differs from a disjunction So + (PI v P2) in the
case in which So has a pro-attitude towards PI and in which P2
is irrelevant. 10
The preceding remarks on the general strategy of
constructing a formal system of practical evaluation cannot, of
course, replace its actual construction. They are meant to show
that - although the informal analysis of evaluative or practical
inconsistency, consistency and implication is defensible by itself -
the construction of an adequate formal system is no less a
practicability than the construction of a logical system under-
lying theoretical judgement or of a number of such systems which
have the same core but differ in their peripheries. 11

Notes
1 The essay develops some ideas expressed in Experience
and Conduct (Cambridge 1976), henceforth referred to as E & C,
especially on the relation between the stratification and
universalization of practical attitudes, on the relation between
the ascertainment of practicabilities and their evaluation and on
224

the definition of practical inconsistency.

2 For details see ch. 1 of E & C and ch. 1 of Metaphysics: Its
Structure and Function (Cambridge 1984), henceforth referred to
as Met.
3 See Critique of Practical Reason, Part I, Bk 1, section
1§3, Remark 1.
4 See Met. p. 9f.
5 For details see E & C, pp. 83ff. The distinction between
the physical, cognitive and evaluative aspects of actions and more
complex practicabilities is commonplace in jurisprudence.
6 The following brief characterization of deontic systems is,
I think, a simpler and improved version of the treatment found in
ch. 1 of E & C.
7 For details see E & C ch. 10.
B See my 'On Logical Validity and Informal Appropriate-
ness' in Philosophy vol. 54; J.P . Cleave 'An Account of
Entailment Based on Classical Semantics' in Analysis, vol. 34,
pp. 118-134; Georg Schurz 'Das Deduktive Relevanzkriterium ... '
in Grazer Philos. Studien, vol. 20, pp. 149-177.
9 See e.g. O. Weinberger 'Eine Semantik fUr die praktische
Philosophie' in Grazer Philos. Studien, vol. 20, pp. 219-239.
10 The last example is meant to recall Ross's paradox of
deontic logic.
11 See Met. ch. 5.
 11

THE DEDUCTIVE MODEL IN ETHICS

Jja Lazari-Pawlowska

The deductive model in normative ethics has its outspoken

followers .
R.B. Brandt characterized this model in the following way:
"Ideally a normative "theory" consists of a set of general
principles analogous to the axioms of a geometric system. That
is, ideally it comprises a set of correct or valid general principles,
as brief and simple as possible compatibly with completeness in
the sense that these principles, when conjoined with true non-
ethical statements, would logically imply every ethical statement
that is correct or valid. Such an ideal for a system must be our
guide."l
Similarly, H. Reichenbach wants to distinguish, as in mathe-
matics, the "axioms of ethics" which state primary goals from
"derivable ethical theorems". "When we call them axioms, we
think of ethics as an ordered system which is derivable from these
axioms, whereas the axioms themselves are not derivable in the
system. (... ) If we succeed in ordering the totality of ethical rules
in one consistent system, we thus arrive at the axioms of our
ethics. "2
According to J. Ladd, in ethical argument, as in all other

225
P. Geach (ed.). Logic and Ethics. 225-240.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers.
226

types of argument, the series of validating premises cannot

regress to infinity. There must be some premises which them-
selves are not and cannot be validated, since there are no higher
prescriptions from which they could be derived. "These are the
"axioms" of a deductive system."3
Some moralists try to base all their prescriptions on only one
"main end", one "moral axiom". However, if we scrutinize the
recommendations preached by an au thor and reconstruct the
sequences of logical connections binding them, it becomes clear
that the author goes beyond the content of his sole principle and
tacitly or unconsciously assumes several principles - i.e. logically
independent "axioms".
Albert Schweitzer was convinced that after a prolonged
period of reflection every moral philosopher feels the need to
systematize his moral intuitions and to express their entirety in
one general basic principle or one fundamental virtue. As it is
known, he himself tried to comprise the entirety of his moral
aspirations in the principle of "reverence for life" ("Ehrfurcht vor
dem Leben"). However, this principle, if taken literally, does not
characterize his moral programme adequately and may easily
become a source of misleading interpretations. For, commonly
reverence for life is associated one-sidedly with non-killing;
whereas Schweitzer "deduced" from his principle much more than
just the reverence for life, conceived as protection of biological
existence; he required also "to raise to its highest value life which
is capable of development". 4 To meet this demand, one would
have to dispose of additional axiological premises and to assume
a hierarchy ordering them. Similarly, the requirement that man
be "faithful to himself", that he respect the principle of truthful-
 227

ness, transcends this system; even though Schweitzer believed

that it was contained in the reverence for life, namely in the
reverence for one's own life. The appearance that the whole
system is based on a single principle derives from the ambiguity
of the word "life" in Schweitzer's writings.
The question whether only one or a plurality of basic moral
principles ("axioms") should be the foundation of an ethical
system is, however, of little consequence for the problems which I
want to discuss here.
We can assume - it seems - that even when a moralist does
not programatically proceed to construct his ethics according to
the deductive model (as he rarely does), it is usually possible to
order his prescriptions, taking into account the logical
connections between them. We acknowledge then as basic those
norms which logically imply several other norms without
themselves being implied by any other norm accepted by the
given moralist. Actually, this remark refers not only to
prescriptions put forward by moralists but also to the moral
convictions of every human being. After all, everybody values a
way of conduct as instrumental to some accepted higher moral
aims, which he in turn assumes without further justification; and
just this is what makes it possible to order the convictions into a
"system". This viewpoint was represented by the Polish
philosopher Cz. Znamierowski: "When many norms are
simultaneously binding person P, then P, or an external observer,
may have some theoretical or practical reasons for ordering those
norms. ( ... ) In carrying out such a systematization we have an
opportunity to find out what derivative, not expressly
formulated, norms are in force, in addition to those established
228

explicitly. We determine this by discovering the logical

connections which hold among the norms, as they similarly do
among the sentences in any deductive system." 5
In the preceding remarks I have outlined the conception of
normative ethics as an axiomatic system. Now I go on to present
critical objections that have been put forward in meta-ethical
literature. It seems that the main objections can be comprised to
the following four points:
1. Basic norms do not express authentic attitudes.
2. The meaning of basic norms is not clear enough.
3. Basic norms make up an incomplete system.
4. It is inappropriate to regard any ethical norm as an
axiom.
One might get the impression that the objections are of a
purely methodological nature. In fact, however, they are at least
partly put forward on the basis of some evaluative assumptions,
which give expression to moral attitudes.
I shall discuss each of the objections.

Basic Norms Do Not Express authentic Attitudes

It is Alf Ross who recommends to take an especially critical

attitude towards very general principles of any kind. He considers
as reliable only "harmonization" or "systematization" of norms
on a lower degree of generalization. He gives the following
example. Suppose a person thinks cold baths are good because he
believes that they strengthen health; for the same reason he is a
vegetarian. In this situation both attitudes can be considered as
 229

being subordinated to a more general attitude - that of the

preservation and promotion of health. However, the author is
against pushing this kind of "systematization" too far. According
to him, the higher we climb up the steps of generalization in
ethics, thus creating abstract constructions, the more doubtful it
is whether the declared principles correspond to any real
attitudes. If a man says that he cannot bear his red-headed
neighbour, hates beef with onions, or is against limitation of
imports, there is as a rule no reason to suspect him of self-
deception. But we cannot listen to his remarks with the same
confidence - says Alf Ross - if he declares that he is a supporter
of "democracy" or in favour of social reforms for the "benefit of
the broad masses of the population". According to Ross, those
very general, abstract principles are nothing but empty
verbalizations that do not cover any psychic reality, and are not
binding on us so much as is supposed by moral philosophers.
There are often good reasons to doubt the sincerity of their
acceptance. So, for instance - says Ross - people usually declare
themselves believers in the "principles of equal opportunities for
all" but nevertheless oppose admitting negroes to higher
education. It is not true that people deduce their concrete norms
of conduct from the general principles they preach. Neither do
such principles fulfill the motivational function ascribed to them
by moral philosophers. Because, according to Ross, a person's
attitudes form a rich and to a large extend discordant conglomer-
ation, it is pointless to embrace them all in one basic principle, as
is done, for instance, by the utilitarians. Happiness is the only
thing sought after as the end, declares J .St. Mill; all other things
are valued only as means to that end. Ross looks upon such an
230

argument as "an artificial construction devoid of any reality". 6

The view that basic norms do not fulfill the motivational
function ascribed to them by moral philosophers is also shared by
William David Ross, a representative of intuitionism. He
considers the following example. Suppose somebody is walking
along the street and sees a blind man whom he helps to get across
the street through the stream of traffic. It may seem we have
here an example when a particular moral duty has been deduced
from a general duty to relieve human beings in distress. "And,
generalizing, we may feel inclined to say that our perception of
particular duties is always an act of inference, in which the major
premise is some general moral principle." Although the author
considers such a view as theoretically tenable, he cannot accept
it, because it contradicts the data of his own introspection; at the
same time he assumes that the introspective data of other people
are similar. It is not true, says W.D. Ross, that when we show a
person kindness, we do so as a result of the following reasoning:
All kind acts are right, therefore this particular kind act is also
right. "It never happens that I do not see directly the rightness of
a particular act of kindness", concludes W.D. Ross. 7
I shall supplement the argumentation of W.D. Ross with the
following remarks. Whether or not basic norms fulfill any
motivational function is an empirical problem. It is possible that
suitable research finds out that sometimes they do, and some-
times they do not. The interesting question would then be to find
out under what conditions they do or do not function motivation-
ally. Anyway, this author is right in maintaining that at least in
some situations basic norms do not have any motivational power;
he himself is an example.
 231

However, this does not supply any argument against the

usefulness of the deductive model in ethics. The number of moral
indications accepted or considered by a moralist - in fact by
nearly any human being - is very large. For a moral philosopher
it may be interesting to find answers to the following two
questions: (1) What, if any, logical relations connect the norms
he has accepted or considered? (2) Is it possible to order those
norms in such a way that all of them (and they are numerous)
follow logically (or at least enthymematically, relative to some
additional, often empirical, assumptions) from a small number of
norms acknowledged as basic ones? These basic norms may either
be selected from among those previously accepted, or specially
introduced into the system to function as its basic norms. The
above two questions are of methodological and also of moral
importance - entirely independently of whether basic norms do
or do not function motivationally.
A real source of serious difficulties is connected with the
incompatibility of accepted norms or with the extreme vagueness
of basic norms. Any deductive approach would have to solve
these problems if it were to be useful.
I now go over to discuss the vagueness problem of basic
norms.

The Meaning of Basic Norms is not Clear Enough

Some authors point out that the expression of fundamental moral

aspirations with the aid of axioms does not and cannot have the
importance for the formulation of concrete directives that is
232

ascribed to them by the followers of the deductive model. Love,

universal benevolence, humanism, justice, freedom - all kinds of
such "moral axioms" are too vague and ambiguous to lend
themselves as deductive premises for concrete directives.
Therefore, none of them make up a system, at any rate not a
system in which it is possible with regard to every particular
norm to decide effectively whether or not it follows from the
axioms. It is always necessary to supplement an axiom with
interpretations; these are, however, suited to some occasion,
which abolishes the analogy between an ethical system and
deductive systems in the strict sense as they are understood in
mathematics.
Tore Nordenstam calls attention to the fact that basic
principles are slogans formulated with the aid of emotively loaded
words of variable meaning. These words are defined by way of
persuasive definitions and are devoid of any constant root-
meaning, unlike vague terms of descriptive import. The word
"happiness" can be applied to any situation toward which we
have a positive attitude. Therefore the statement that the
supreme principle in an ethic calls for maximizing happiness
supplies us with no information until we know what kind of
situation is referred to as "happiness" in that ethic. However, the
full, complete explanation of it is - according to the author-
neither possible nor desirable. It is not possible, because the
actual situations are too rich and differentiated for the moralist
to foresee them and take them all into consideration. It is not
desirable, because the possibility of making independent decisions
and of concretizing by interpretation the meaning of vague
principles is an indispensable prerequisite of considering a man a
 233

moral personality. According to Nordenstam, the vagueness of

basic assumptions is, therefore, their demerit only from the
formal point of view, which he considers unimportant; viewed
morally, it turns out to be a merit. According to this author, it is
only through interpretation and independent concretization of a
general principle in the given circumstances that an individual
gives the principle its proper meaning.
The deductive model assumes that the moralist formulates a
number of general recommendations. When the facts in a
particular case are known, it is merely a question of applying the
relevant norm to the facts and of drawing the appropriate
conclusion. The premise describing the facts is subsumed under
the appropriate norm, and the conclusion follows "automati-
cally". According to the view of Nordenstam, it is a misleading
conception, because it neglects the creative role of the acting
individual.
This author decidedly opposes the view that the criteria to be
fulfilled by a system of ethics are to be identical to the criteria of
adequacy that characterize deductive systems in the mathe-
matical sense. Indeterminateness and incompleteness, though
clearly failures in the case of other systems, turn out to be merits
in an ethical system. 8

Basic Norms Make Up an Incomplete System

An incomplete system is, properly speaking, not a system at all.

Some authors point out that it is not possible to deduce
particular norms from basic norms alone; it is necessary to
234

supplement them with some additional linkages. At least two

kinds of supplementing elements come into question:
a. Empirical statements as premises in the process of
deducing norms.
b. An assumed hierarchy which establishes priority among
accepted values.
Both these elements are methodologically essential. The
question of supplements in the form of empirical statements has
already been discussed above. Now I shall deal mainly with the
problem of establishing a hierarchy among norms. The necessity
of such a hierarchy arises in connection with the fact of possible
conflicts between norms. Two norms are in conflict when through
following one we disobey the other. In such a situation we are
prone to recognize one of the norms as the more important one
and to subordinate our behaviour to it.
H.D. Aiken assumes that the deductive method finds an
application in ethics: we seek to justify particular moral
conclusions by subsuming them under general moral principles.
However, this is of little help for solving the most difficult moral
dilemmas. In a simple situation - says the author - the
appropriate moral rule usually occurs to us without special effort
or reflection. We can agree that we then have to do with the
application of a general principle under which we intuitively
subsume the moral conclusion. But the source of real moral
perplexities is most often not the question of subsumption but
the problem of choice among competing norms, each of which
finds support in one or another accepted principle. Can recourse
to a deductive system help us here? This author answers the
question negatively. After all, a permanent hierarchy of accepted
 235

values, incorporated into a system, would not be desirable at all.

Consider, for instance, in what circumstances the undesirable
consequences of keeping a promise free us from keeping it. It is
impossible, says the author, to find a general and at the same
time satisfactory solution. The decision as to the hierarchy of
values cannot be permanent, but is always occasional, always
adapted to a given situation.
Although ethical norms are bound by the relation of logical
consequence, says Aiken, it does not help us to reach unequivocal
solutions to the troublesome problems. In view of the anta-
gonistic character of accepted values it may happen that two
persons will end up with different moral conclusions, even though
both reasoned correctly and had full knowledge of the relevant
facts . It happens that people who start from the same set of basic
norms make, after thorough reflection, different moral decisions,
and with equal right at that, because they assume different
priorities among the relevant postulates. He mentions at least
three examples of competing moral claims which we nonetheless
accept conjointly: the claim of minimum suffering or of humane-
ness, the claim of justice or fair treatment, and the claim of
liberty of persons. The author assumes that even one and the
same person, taking into consideration identical moral claims,
may arrive at diverging decisions in similar situations. "It cannot
be maintained that, as a rational moral agent, I must always
decide precisely in such a way as all other men would decide in a
similar situation or even as I myself would subsequently decide in
the same sort of circumstances. Upon reflection I may decide to
weigh the conflicting claims differently without involving myself
in the charge that either in one case or in the other I have acted
236

unreasonable. Formulas here are of no help." I am bound to be

just, continues the author, but I am also bound to listen to my
reason when justice conflicts or appears to conflict with welfare.
This does not commit me to choose against justice, but it does
commit me to consider the possibility that I may have been
mistaken and the weight should perhaps go the other way.
Thus, according to Aiken, the starting point does not make
up a full system. The supplements which we introduce do not
have a permanent character, but are changeable, depending on
the circumstances and on our moral feeling of the moment. In
this way we supplement and concretize our starting point - the
accepted basic norms, the axioms. Following the author's
argument, we may assume, it seems, that because in each case
the concretization is different, we also obtain a different system.
Therefore, starting from the same "moral axioms", people
represent nonetheless different systems; and even one and the
same person avails himself of a number of various systems. On
the ground of this interpretation, we may say that the author is
not so much against a deductive system in ethics, but rather
undermines the conception of the permanent and non-subjective
character of such a system. 9

It Is Inappropriate to Regard Any Ethical Principle

as an " Axiom"

It is Hans Albert who expressed this view most radically. He tries

to transfer into the realm of ethics Karl R. Popper's postulate of
criticism and his conception of refutability of empirical
 237

statements.
According to Albert value judgements and norms should be
understood as "hypotheses", i.e. as provisional assumptions,
which we are ready to give up in the light of new data or
reflection. It is to be stressed that this postulate covers all value
judgements and norms - including the basic ones. 10
A more moderate view is represented by Christian Bay. He
requires that all moral opinions be tentative with the sole
exception of the postulate of humanism ("militant humanism"),
which is subject to analysis and interpretation, but cannot be
challenged. The postulate of humanism acknowledges the
intrinsic value of every individual and his right to free develop-
ment. The author sees all other directives as means to that aim
- means which should constantly be subject to analysis and
evaluation, adapted, reformed, or refuted, according to the
changing situation or improved knowledge. "Opinions and
attitudes must be, if we are rational, tentative only. But, and
this is where I differ profoundly with most pluralist liberals, there
has to be one basic, a priori commitment, subject of course to
analysis and interpretations but not to challenge; and that
commitment, in my view, can only be the value of each human
life itself, freely evolving." 11
The conception of Paul Kurtz has much in common with
Albert's radical stand. Kurtz calls for "critical and revisionary
enquiry" with regard to all moral postulates. Moral ideals and
principles, he says, should be taken as hypotheses whose useful-
ness is confirmed or questioned by experience and scientific
advance. By taking such an open attitude we continue to be
receptive to alternative forms of morality which may deserve
238

acceptance. 12
In the deductive model of ethics, says Albert, the process of
substantiation ends at a definite point - at the norm
acknowledged as a basic one; however, the point where
substantiation stops is chosen arbitrarily. According to Albert,
the question: Why stop here? remains sensible and legitimate. He
who proclaims a statement as the "last" assumption reveals that
he is not ready to subject his basic moral ideas to discussion; he
has dogmatized them. The decision to break off the chain of
substantiations is harmful for psychological, and also for moral,
reasons. For people are prone to take the final element in a chain
of substantiations as something certain, something which does
not require any further justification - in fact they take it as a
dogma. The process of substantiation in the deductive model,
says Albert, ends therefore at a dogma: de principiis non est
disputandum. The impression that there exist some "final"
assumptions in ethics is the result of fascination with the
axiomatic method which aims at establishing exactly such
assumptions.
Albert is therefore against the axiomatization of ethics
because it favours dogmatic attitudes and is incompatible with
the broadly conceived postulate of criticism. According to Albert
dogmatization expresses the tendency to give the need of
intellectual certainty priority over the need to achieve optimal
solutions of actual, important problems. A deductive system in
ethics, even if it were possible to realize it, would take the form
of a closed system; this prompts the author's objections, because
a closed system cannot be improved upon. The open character of
an ethical system - says Albert - is itself a matter of morality.
 239

Albert's conception, although otherwise likeable - for it is a

likeable programme, to influence people to be critical and devoid
of all forms of fanaticism - calls forth certain doubts. The
concept of an axiom has a methodological character. Whoever is
convinced that it is possible to order his set of accepted norms
according to the relation of logical consequence, and thus to
obtain a system similar to a deductive one, is compelled to
assume only this: a basic norm in a system - as I have already
mentioned - is one which implies several other norms without
itself being implied by any other norm in the system. On the
other hand, the concept of a dogma, as used by Albert, clearly
belongs to psychological categories: a dogma accepted by a
person is a conviction which he never puts up to criticism and is
not ready to give up, whatever the arguments. The author
identifies the concept of an axiom with that of a dogma; or at
least maintains that people who have to do with ethical axioms
(basic norms) tend to do so. However, the methodological stance
discussed in this paper does not imply the dogmatic attitude. For
it is certainly not inconsistent to acknowledge some moral
principles as one's own basic axiological assumptions, and at the
same time to remain open to alternative forms of morality and to
be ready to change one's own. On the other hand, though the
methodological stance outlined here does not imply this, it often
happens that people consider their ethical system as closed,
established once and for all.
In discussing the controversy over the possibility of
presenting moral programmes in the form of deductive systems I
was trying to point out that we have to do here with a situation
where the moral attitude of an author often co-determines his
240

stance with regard to methodological problems. I think that

many situations of this kind could be found in meta--ethical
discussions. The pluralism of meta--ethical stances can certainly
be partially explained with reference to the pluralism of moral
stances represented by moral philosophers. But only partially. It
is worthwhile to realize that various theoretical conceptions in
the realm of meta--ethics are usually also supported by some
serious theoretical arguments. Particular conceptions have
succeeded in rightly grasping some points or other, but each one
also reveals some weak aspects. It seems that meta--ethics has
not yet managed to achieve a really satisfactory theory.

Notes
1 R.B. Brandt, Ethical Theory, Prentice Hall 1959, p. 295.
2 H. Reichenbach, The Rise of Scientific Philosophy,
Berkeley 1951, p. 279.
3 J . Ladd, The Structure of a Moral Code, Cambridge 1957,
p. 152.
4 A. Schweitzer, My Life and Thought, London 1966, p. 13l.
5 Cz. Znamierowski, Oceny i Normy, Warszawa 1957,
p.51!.
6 A. Ross, On Law and Justice, London 1958. p. 297 ff.
7 W.D. Ross, The Foundation of Ethics, London 1939, p. 168
ff.
8 T. Nordenstam, Sudanese Ethics, Uppsala 1968, p. 27 ff.
9 H.D. Aiken, Moral Reasoning, "Ethics" 1953, p. 27 ff.
10 H. Albert, Traktat iiber kritische Vernunft, Tiibingen 1968.
11 Ch. Bay, "Human Development and Political
Orientations", BuUetin of Peace Proposals, 1970, No.2, p. 179.
12 P. Kurtz, "The Uses and Abuses of Science", The
Humanist, 1972, No.5. p. 7.
 12

TRUTH-VALUE OF ETHICAL STATEMENTS:

SOME PHILOSOPHICAL IMPLICATIONS OF THE
MODEL-THEORETIC DEFINITION OF TRUTH

Marian Przelecki

By the model-theoretic definition of truth I mean Tarski's

definition of truth in its model-theoretic version. The definition
has usually been deemed to be philosophically neutral. This has
been regarded either as its advantage or as its shortcoming,
depending on what one has expected from the definition. I shall
question here this opinion by pointing out certain philosophical
consequences which the model-theoretic version of this definition
seems to imply. These are consequences which concern the follow-
ing problem: What kind of expressions qualify as true or false
statements? According to a widely held view, there is, in this
respect, a fundamental difference between two kinds of sentences:
descriptive and value statements. All descriptive statements are
assumed to be true or false; all value statements are denied any
truth-value. In what follows I try to argue that this qualification
is untenable: the model-theoretic definition of truth seems to
place both kinds of sentences in the same category. On the one
hand, there are descriptive statements which are neither true nor
false; on the other hand, there are true or false value statements.
This conclusion follows from certain characteristic features of the

241
P. Geach (ed.). Logic and Ethics. 241-253.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers . .
242

semantical metalanguage in which model-theoretic definition of

truth is couched, viz. from the set-theoretic ontology assumed by
the model-theoretic semanticist.
In its strict formulation, the model-theoretic definition of
truth takes the form of a recursive definition, which characterizes
the notion of a true sentence by means of two clauses: the first
lays down the truth--conditions for the simple, i.e. atomic,
sentences, the second for the compound ones. The philosophical
consequences I have in mind are connected with the first of these
clauses. How then does it read in its model-theoretic formu-
lation? The characteristic feature of a model-theoretic approach
to the semantics of a given language lies in the way the inter-
pretation of the language is accounted for . This interpretation is
specified by means of some set-theoretic concepts. An inter-
pretation of language L is here identified with a set-theoretic
entity m, called a structure for L, which assigns to each non-
logical constant of L a proper set-theoretic object as its
denotation. Thus a one-place predicate P is said to denote a set,
an n-place predicate an n-ary relation. The basic semantic
notion under this approach is that of a sentence of language L
true in a structure m. As far as the atomic sentences of L are
concerned, the definition of that notion may be rendered as
follows . Let s be an atomic sentence of language Land 's' its
name in the metalanguage ML, in which the definition is
couched.
(1) 's' is true in miff sm ,
where sm is a translation of s, as interpreted by m, into the meta-
language ML. To illustrate the clause (1) by means of a simple
schema, let us take as s the sentence P(a) and symbolize the
 243

denotations of predicate P and name a in structure m by pm and

am. In this case, (1) reduces to
(2) 'P(a)' is true in m iff am E pm ,
since, under our assumptions, the sentence P(a)m turns into the
sentence am E pm.
The transition from the "relative" notion of truth in a
structure m to the "absolute" notion of truth tout court is usually
based on the assumption that among all possible interpretations
(possible structures) of a meaningful, Le. interpreted, language L
there is one which represents its intended interpretation
(intended structure). Let us denote it by m*. A sentence of L is
now said to be true if and only if it is true in structure m *.
Symbolizing the intended interpretation of a sentence s (i.e. sm *)
by s*, we get the famous clause:
(3) 's' is true iff s* .
Let the intended denotations of a predicate P and a name a (Le.
P m* and a m* ) be symbolized by P* and a*. The truth-
conditions for the sentence P(a) will then read as follows:
(4) 'P(a)' is true iff a* E P* .
I quote these well-known schemata in order to call attention
to one of their features which will prove decisive in further
argumentation. It amounts to the following. The truth-
conditions for a sentence of language L are here expressed not in
the language L, but in its metalanguage ML. This language has
some properties of its own: it has its own formalism and inter-
pretation, its own logic and ontology. These may coincide with
the corresponding properties of language L, or they may not.
Being a language of the semanticist, who uses it as his own means
of communication, the metalanguage must conform to his
244

standards of formal and material adequacy. It cannot then be

assumed to contain any sentence s whatsoever, taken in its
original, unanalyzed, form and interpretation. It can only contain
a translation of s into the language of the semanticist. The
formulas s* and a* E P* present such translations of sentences s
and P(a) into our metalanguage ML. As stated before, this meta-
language is characterized, among others, by its set-theoretic
ontology. The fragments of reality which the sentences speak
about, as well as what they say about these fragments, are
described by means of a set-theoretic conceptual apparatus, in a
language of "applied" set theory. With the help of such set-
theoretic concepts as set, or relation, we identify not only the
fragment of reality to which the sentence s refers, i.e. the
intended structure m* of the language L, but also what the
sentence s says about this fragment, the state of affairs asserted
by it, s*. That is why the interpretation of the predicate P is
conceived of as a set of objects, P*j and the state of affairs
asserted by the sentence P(a) as the fact of an object being an
element of a set, a* E P*.
It is just the set-theoretic nature of the metalanguage ML
that makes necessary some modifications of the truth~onditions
(3) and (4) quoted above, if these are to apply to sentences of
natural language, or any language characteristic of empirical
discourse. In contrast to the exact character of the metalanguage
ML, every empirical language is essentially inexact due to the
vagueness of all empirical terms. Vagueness seems to be an
inherent feature of any empirical predicate. And set theory
appears to be too precise as a theory which is to account for the
interpretation of vague predicates. If a predicate P of language L
 245

is a vague one, its denotation can hardly be identified with a set,

in the literal, set-theoretic meaning. A collection of objects is
said to be a set only if it is defined, for every object in the
universe of discourse, whether or not it is a member of that
collection. The borderline cases of a predicate P seem to be just
those objects for which such a condition is not satisfied.
Consequently, the intended interpretation of language L cannot
be identified with what we have called a structure for L. Different
ways of coping with that difficulty have been suggested. I shall
here mention one of them - in my opinion, the least objection-
able. It treats vagueness as a kind of multiplicity and consists of
replacing standard interpretations by certain classes of them. The
intended interpretation of a vague predicate P is thus identified
not with a single set P*, but with a certain class of sets, say P*;
each of these sets corresponds to a possible classification of the
borderline cases of this predicate into positive and negative
instances. Accordingly, the intended interpretation of language L
will be identified not with a single structure for L, m*, but with a
class of such structures, M*. This accounts for the so-called
first-order vagueness only, and empirical predicates are often
alleged to suffer from higher-order vagueness as well. One could
do justice to it along similar lines (by taking as interpretations of
vague predicates certain classes of classes of their standard
denotations, and so on), but I shall not pursue this point here.
How then is the notion of truth for a language L, interpreted by a
class of structures M*, to be defined? The solution adopted for
the present discussion is the best known one and, at the same
time, the most essential one to our argument: in all other
approaches, our final conclusions turn out to be valid a fortiori.
246

The solution defines a true sentence of language L as a sentence

which is true in every structure of the class M*, and a false
sentence of language L as a sentence which is false in every
structure of class M*:
(5) 's' is true iff for every m E M*, sm ;
(6) 's' is false iff for every m E M*, not sm .
If P* is the class of denotations of the predicate P in the
structures of the class M* (Le. {pm}meM*) and a* the (unique)
object denoted by the name a in these structures, the truth and
falsity conditions for the sentence P(a) will then read as follows:
(7) 'P(a)' is true iff for every X E P*, a* eX;
(8) 'P(a)' is false iff for every X E P*, a* t X .
In other words, the sentence P(a) is true if and only if the object
denoted by the name a belongs to every admissible denotation of
the predicate P; the sentence is false if and only if the given
object does not belong to any of these denotations. This
definition of truth embodies the idea of the so-called super-truth
theory. A sentence is considered true if it comes out true under
any admissible way of making its terms completely precise. As it
is easily seen, all laws of classical logic turn out to be true on
that conception. But the set of true or false sentences does not
exhaust the set of all sentences of language L interpreted as
above. A sentence which ascribes a vague predicate P to one of
its borderline cases does not satisfy either of the given conditions,
and so it has to be qualified as neither true nor false. Thus, in
any empirical language there are bound to appear descriptive
statements devoid of any truth-value.
This consequence of the model-theoretic definition of truth
may be said to be due to the exact character of the metalanguage
 247

ML as contrasted with the inexact character of object language

L. The consequence to which I turn now is connected with the
extensional character of ML. Briefly, it is a language of sets, not
of properties. The interpretation which it provides for the non-
logical constants of L consists of certain set-theoretic entities
(sets, relations, functions). A one-place predicate P is taken to
be interpreted if and only if there is assigned to it, as its
denotation, a set of objects (or a class of such sets, if P is vague).
This, and only this, is needed in order to fix the truth~onditions
for sentences which ascribe P to any objects. Now, my contention
is that there is no difference between descriptive and value
predicates in this respect. Interpretation so understood may be
attributed to both kinds of terms. As far as its denotation is
concerned, a value predicate does not differ from a vague
descriptive predicate. Its interpretation may also be identified
with a certain class of sets. This applies, in the first place, to all
ethical predicates, on which I shall concentrate in the further
discussion. Let us take as an example the ethical predicate
'morally good'. It is syntactically a one-place predicate, i.e. one
predicable of individual objects. On the face of it, then, it should
semantically be treated in the same way as other one-place
predicates. Anyway, the onus probandi is on him who denies it
such semantic status - by treating the expression 'is morally
good' as a disguised exclamation or an implicit two-place
predicate (which involves a relativization to the utterer), or the
like. No arguments that have been adduced in favour of such
interpretations sound to me convincing enough. The common
meaning of the adjective 'morally good' seems to qualify this
expression as a genuine one-place predicate - a term predicable
248

of certain human actions (or, derivatively, human beings). It does

apply to some human actions and does not apply to some others;
with regard to the rest its application remains essentially
undecidable. In view of this, its reference will have to include all
the positive instances and exclude all the negative ones. Thus it
does not seem to differ from the reference of any vague
descriptive predicate. The intended interpretation of this
predicate may be thought of as a certain class of sets whose
elements are concrete human actions. Accordingly, the truth and
falsity conditions for a sentence P(a) containing ethical predicate
P may be defined by the same clauses (7) and (8), that have been
stated above. On the basis of these, some such sentences will turn
out to be true or false, unless the predicate P is completely
vague, i.e. unless both the intersection of all sets belonging to the
class P* and the intersection of all their complements are empty
sets. As a consequence, a claim denying all ethical statements
any definite truth-value becomes, under the present approach,
equivalent to a thesis claiming the complete vagueness of all
ethical predicates. Our example of the predicate 'morally good'
seems to show that this is hardly the case. Ethical predicates
appear to suffer from partial vagueness only. And so, some
sentences containing them - in other words, some ethical judge-
ments - will have to be qualified as true or false statements.
Considering the problem of vagueness of ethical predicates,
we should not confuse vagueness with ambiguity. Arguing for the
notorious vagueness of the predicate 'morally good', one typically
mentions examples of actions which are considered by some
persons as good and by some others as bad. But 'good' here does
not always mean the same as 'morally good'. The word often
 249

refers to what is accepted, or approved, by the given person or

society, and this cannot simply be taken to coincide with what is
considered morally good. Such examples then miss their aim. It
should also be noted that the fact of controversies in ethical
matters need not be considered as the evidence of some particular
vagueness of ethical predicates. The use of ethical predicates
-like the use of empirical ones - is no infallible procedure.
Therefore, if someone applies to a given case the ethical predicate
P and someone else its negation, this need not mean that it is a
borderline case of the predicate: one of these uses may simply be
wrong. Both speakers may understand the predicate P in the
same way and, as a consequence, assign to it the same
denotation. The case discussed may, in fact, belong to this
denotation. In spite of this, one of the speakers may (truly)
qualify it as P, and the other (falsely) as not-P. There may be
various reasons for this error, depending on the way in which the
speaker arrived at his statement. Anyway, it is not vagueness of
the predicate P that is responsible for this divergence in its use.
Let me, lastly, point to the fact that ethical predicates differ
considerably as to the degree of their vagueness. As is the case
with empirical predicates, the comparative predicates, generally,
turn out to be much less vague than the corresponding classifi-
catory predicates. To see this let us compare the predicate
'morally better' with the predicate 'morally good' : the first is
evidently much sharper than the second. And so, one should not
judge - with respect to vagueness - all ethical predicates en bloc.
However, those who question the applicability of the concept
of truth to ethical statements do not base their objections on the
thesis claiming the complete vagueness of all ethical predicates.
250

Their main objections seem to result from a different conception

of a language's interpretation. According to it, what an
expression refers to is to be characterized in terms of properties
rather than sets. And this immediately leads to the question:
what kind of properties does an ethical predicate refer to? They
cannot be empirical ("natural") properties of objects. An ethical
predicate so interpreted would turn into a descriptive one.
Interpreting it in this way, we are committing the "naturalistic
fallacy". One way of avoiding it is to postulate the existence of
certain non-empirical ("non-natural") properties as the reference
of ethical predicates. But do such properties really exist?
Assuming their existence seems unacceptable to empirically
minded semanticists. This difficulty does not arise under the
model-theoretic approach. What an ethical predicate refers to is
here identified with a set of concrete objects: actions, persons (or
rather with a class of such sets). A reference so conceived is all
that matters as far as the question of truth is concerned. Whether
a sentence P(a) is true or false (or neither) depends on what the
denotation of P is like, i.e. what set (or class of sets) the
predicate P denotes. The same set may be characterized by
different properties - empirical and non-empirical ("natural"
and "non-natural"). Which of them are actually used in
determining the denotation of P is irrelevant to the question of
truth-value of sentences involving this predicate. The truth and
falsity conditions as stated in clauses (7) and (8) are evidently
insensitive to the particular way the class P* has been
determined.
The problem of truth of ethical statements is thus quite
independent of the precise way that the reference of ethical
 251

predicates has been fixed. What does depend on that way,

however, is the sense of ethical predicates and ethical statements.
Within the conceptual framework adopted here, the question of
the sense of ethical predicates may be understood as concerning
the actual way in which the reference of a given predicate is
determined. How is it that a definite set of objects, or a definite
class of such sets, is assigned to an ethical predicate as its
denotation? In this paper, which is concerned with the theory of
truth, and not with the theory of meaning, for ethical statements,
I shall not suggest any answer to that question. All I can do is to
mention briefly some possibilities which come into view in this
matter. There seem to be two main ways of determining the
reference of an ethical predicate: a direct and an indirect one.
They are analogous to the corresponding procedures for empirical
predicates. The direct procedure resembles ostensive definition,
differing from the latter in that it appeals not to our sense-
perception, but to our moral intuition. It defines an ethical
predicate by exhibiting some of its positive (and negative)
instances as so-<alled standard cases, e.g. as standards of
'morally good' action. The indirect procedure defines an ethical
predicate by means of some empirical terms. While the first
procedure corresponds roughly to the intuitionistic standpoint,
the second embodies the naturalistic position. It is in this context
that the controversy between intuitionism and naturalism finds
its proper place. Whichever solution to the problem is adopted,
one consequence of the situation seems worth stressing. Under
252

both solutions, there are available statements which characterize

the reference of an ethical predicate P (Le. the class of sets P*)
by means of certain empirical concepts. What remains contrer
versial is the status of such statements. According to the
intuitionistic solution, they all are factual (Le. synthetic)
statements. The set of actions which our moral intuition qualifies
as morally good, in fact turns out to be the set of actions which
bear such and such empirical characteristics. In contrast to it, the
naturalistic view ascribes to some of such statements the status
of definitional (Le. analytic) sentences. Whether factual or
definitional, they establish the reference of an ethical predicate P
in a way which seems free from any philosophical objections.
And, according to the present approach, it is the very fact of
possessing such reference that is needed in order to define the
concept of truth for statements containing P. If, in addition, that
reference fulfills certain conditions (preventing the predicate P
from being completely vague), some sentences involving the
predicate P turn out to be true or false. And it is my contention
that these conditions hold for most ethical predicates.
Arguing for the applicability of the concept of truth to
ethical statements, I realize that the conclusion reached does not
solve any essential problems concerning the cognitive value of
ethical statements. In my opinion, these are problems that
pertain not to the truth of ethical statements, but to their sense
and, in close dependence on this, the method of their validation.
Ascribing truth-value to ethical statements does not presuppose
any kind of solution to these difficult and important questions.
This view stands in opposition to a common practice of making
the problem of truth for a given kind of sentences dependent
 253

upon the problem of their verifiability. In particular, any

restriction of genuine, i.e. true or false, sentences to empirically
verifiable statements seems to me unwarranted - dictated by a
sheer philosophical dogma. No such dogma has been assumed in
these considerations.

Note

The present paper is a modified version of an article published in

1973 in Polish ("0 pewnych filozoficznych konsekwencjach
semantycznej definicji prawdy", Studia FilozoJiczne 6, 1973), and
1974 in English ("Some Philosophical Consequences of the
Semantic Definition of Truth", Dialectics and Humanism 1,
1974).
 13

ON SUBJECTIVE APPRECIATION OF OBJECTIVE

MORAL POINTS

Jan Srzednicki

It is notoriously difficult to force agreement in a dispute about

morals, If there is common ground and common structure
between disputants the case is not so bad, a settlement is possible
via reference to this common ground. Where there is little
common ground the problem will often seem insurmountable. But
even in a disputation with a member of one's own culture (and
morality) group, problems rise. In discussion re morals the scope
for argumentative obstinacy is almost unlimited. A person who
would balk at claiming that arsenic in large quantities is
nutritious, will blithely hold that it is his intuition that the
infirm should be given large doses of arsenic - as they are not fit
to live. More annoying still it is very difficult to show such a
"trendy" malthusian that his obstinacy is but obstinacy - a fact
he banks on. Disputes over (objective) facts provide far fewer
lessons in that practice, far fewer classical examples of extreme
intellectual frustration.
Subjectivistic theories of morals: culture-relative, individual-
relative, contract-relative, etc. are the temptation and the escape
of the enbattled theoretician. This escape absolves him from the

255
P. Geach (ed.) , Logic and Ethics, 255-274.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers.
256

need to reply to moves such as: "But my (our) basic intuitions

are totally different" , thus minimizing his own frustration .
Further, and more importantly, it explains the vast differences
between existing received moralities. We are sure that we are
justly horrified at some of the ideas other people embrace. Yet
compare a Victorian lady's reaction to a serious free society,
trendy films about sexual behaviour, sexual deviations and
freedom even ones with serious moral message. Lest this appear
trivial, in the present day and age we may bethink ourselves of
cultures that show no respect for human life, human freedom, no
abhorrence to human suffering, yet possibly they are still in the
majority.
The opposite attitude is generated by the realization that if
subjectivist theories were correct moral dictates would not have
to be treated as seriously as quite obviously they need to be
treated.
Let me put it this way. Take e.g. that cultural relativism is
correct - then accepting Christian, Humanistic or Moslem
morality is very much like joining one or another organisation; a
political party; or community of people. Anyone is free to join a
group that she finds congenial. -If there are no nudist groups or
no contemplative orders it is proper, even if it might be difficult,
to try to form one; it is also proper to disrobe or to contemplate
in splendid solitude. The problem lies not in the nature of the act
itself, not in its effects - the problem consists in finding a group
of like-minded people, in the company of whom one can collect
stamps, refrain from eating beef, engage in dangerous competitive
sports, murder strangers, exterminate all red-haired babies, and
so on. Now this list does look ridiculous, and rightly so. It is the
 257

case that a very prudish person might be more shocked by nudity

than murder, but we do expect that the attitudes to nudity will
vary and change more easily than those to murder. It is not only
that it is easier to contemplate being nude, than being murdered
oneself - here actually a very prudish person might genuinely
rather die than disrobe - but even the most prudish are shocked
more deeply be an assassin society than by a nude one, and this
was so even in Victorian times.
Yet there must be a reason for this imbalance, and the
obvious one is the existence of some objective normative
standard. Stamp--collecting does not impinge on it, nudity in
public might, torture-murders certainly do - this would explain
matters nicely.
We would try to explain them via relative strength of
entrenchment of certain normative tastes vis-a-vis some others.
We are brought up to "know the difference between right and
wrong" and it is in our blood just as a religion - Moslem,
Catholic, Protestant, Judaic, etc. can be. People will die just as
easily for their conception of God( s) as for their conception or
morality - yet at least some of them if not all, must give their
allegiance to what is objectively not the case - strength of
conviction is then not a test of objectivity. But if we eschew the
idea of objectivity it becomes reasonable to be guided by our
strength of conviction, does it not?
Well, that is far from obvious. Take the norm-wars and
vendettas - there are many examples: the Irish Question; the
Sunnite-Shiite Moslem struggle; the Moslem-Christian wars;
some ideology storms etc. One is tempted to say: "If all that is
involved are extremely well entrenched normative attitudes - the
258

cost is surely too high". But on what basis is the cost calculated?
The participants in norm-vendettas do not think it too high. An
Australian academic barracking for one side in one of them once
said to me: "It does not matter whether people are murdered,
what matters is for what cause they are murdered!" Since he said
it I cannot now write: "Clearly no one would seriously accept
such a statement." This inability is both annoying and
frustrating, so we are back to square one. But one wishes
fervently for an objective norm or norms that would put a stop to
all that nonsense.
One does not need to be an advocatus diaboli to see that
there is genuine plausibility in the subjectivistic position, and
that it has some depth.
Let us make some preliminary assumptions:
Assumption 1 At least in some areas there are objective facts
- this assumption ignores metaphysical idealism, but this can be
accepted since our main task is to contrast and compare the
realm of facts with the realm of norms.

Assumption 2 All perception is subjective. We mean here that

the epistemic act is a private term vi~a-vis the individual who
is engaged in the act of cognition; it is not identical with the item
that is the object of the cognition, and there is always the
possibility that the act of cognition falsifies, or even creates, the
putative object of cognition.

These assumptions are reasonable starting points for discussion.

Should we end up accepting moral subjectivism we simply say
that no objective facts are moral facts. 1 Should we adopt
 259

thoroughgoing idealism we disprove assumption 1. Should we

become epistemic objectivists we disprove assumption 2.
Assuming, for the moment at least, that thirdly there are
normative facts, we can analyze and tabulate significant
possibilities as follows:
If in a given area there are both objective facts and
subjective reactions, attitudes, assessments (hereafter referred to
as 'assessments'), the question arises how are these related to the
universe in question?
Limiting ourselves to what is relevant to action and decision-
making: (i) it could be that an action-relevant item could be as
easily subjective as objective; but (ii) it could be that the vast
majority of action-relevant items is objective; or (iii) that the
vast majority of them is subjective.
If we were to say that the universe of constative (factual)
discourse is of type (ii), but the normative universe is of type (iii)
all the notable differences between these universes are easily
accounted for without recourse to the extreme view that all
normative items are subjective assessments, all constative items
objective. 2 A good reason is now needed to show that there are no
normative facts and no constative assessments over and above
any reason showing that these are so insignificant that they can
be safely disregarded in their respective universes. This shows
how extreme the views of thoroughgoing subjectivism and
objectivism are.
A subjectivist may react to this result in the following
fashion: It might well be possible to tabulate logical possibilities
of this kind, but we need to be shown that they are more than
just logical possibilities.
260

To refute a theory by reference to a mere logical possibility is

not reasonable, for it amounts to theoretical timidity of the
extreme kind. This timidity, carried to its (logical) conclusion,
inevitably results in thoroughgoing scepticism. The mere fact
that we reject extreme scepticism amounts to the rejection of
such extreme logical timidity - if so, we need a more positive
reason to act upon.
Such reasons are the basis of the so--<:alled moral monster
theories. Suppose a Gargantuan Gourmand wanted a roast
suckling pig. He can either chase a piglet at some, not too great,
effort, or he can take his baby daughter out of her cot and roast
her. He decides to do the latter, it saves effort, and he rather
thinks a b&by is more delicate in flavour. 3 Now it is claimed that
no sane person can seriously in a real situation of this kind, be
indifferent to the choice. "He can of course do what his
conscience, intuition, inclination, tells him to do!" is not a
possible, not a sane, comment of the action of the Gargantuan.
But is not this subject to the retort cited vitra-ms normative
vendettas, are we not in saying this imposing our own subjective
norm on both the Gargantuan and his advocate?
In terms of assumption 2 we certainly are, but this point is
idle, for this is true of all possible terms. If there is the possibility
of an objective norm (fact) this must be immune to such
criticism. Is there any other reason to believe that our norm is
subjective over and above its being subjectively recorded by us?
Well, as in the normative-vendetta case, this is the fact of the
serious and genuine disagreement - but serious and genuine
disagreements are possible vi!ra-vis typical objective facts.
Whether the Earth is round or flat; whether a material object can
 261

move through a medium at a speed greater than sound;4 whether

anything exists etc., etc. Admittedly we do not disagree whether
what you are reading now is a printed page or tea-leaves in a
cup. To claim it was tea-leaves would not be sane, let alone
reasonable. But why not? This is what Obelix seriously thinks! If
this is what Obelix seriously thinks, there is not much we can do
with Obelix, is there? What has happened is that Obelix is
utterly out of contact with us, in a very good way he is out of our
universe of discourse; he is in the same world, but his conceptual
framework and ours are mutually out of bounds. There is no
possibility of serious discourse between us; as far as we are
concerned, for Obelix anything goes. If he adopted some inclusion
and exclusion principles, these are not intelligible to us - his, to
put it colloquially, is not a sane world. The same goes for the
Gargantuan Gourmand - his world is not sane either. Let us then
say that a proposition that can be denied only on the pain of
putting yourself out of the common universe of discourse can be
accepted as stating an objective fact. Such is the proposition that
you are now reading a printed page, not tea-leaves in a wet cup.
Such is the proposition that the Gargantuan Gourmand's decision
is wrong. Both state objective facts (the second a normative
fact), and the view that they do is supported in the same way in
each case. In view of assumption 2 this is as good a ground as can
be given, for even our appreciation of the fact that it is
objectively the case that I am not a rose bush is subjective in the
sense that it is my conviction based on whatever I find
compelling. Alternatively, it is your conviction based on what-
ever you find compelling. Were this not so the relevant insanity
would not be possible - the irreducible gap between the fact that
262

I am a human being, and the assessment that I am one alone

makes the insane opinion to the contrary possible. Typically,
there can be no form of illness or insanity whereby I become a
rose bush (especially while I still remain a human being).
So far then, the subjectivist case has been met. It leaves
many problems, not least the question of how important is the
fact that some at least normative assessments are objective.
Should we accept the suggestion (iii) above, this point would be
of no more than theoretical interest, and it is in fact very difficult
to see how I could demonstrate the objectivity of the judgement
that when I make a date with A and forgetfully also with B, it is
right (ceteris paribus) that I keep the one with A, since I made it
earlier. In fact the action-relevant facts are very commonly
obvious: that this is water not kerosene, that this is paper not
dough, that this is flammable, that brittle, etc., etc. Yet equally
commonly the action-relevant normative assessments are not at
all obvious: that one owes more to the family than to the state;
that kindness should here prevail over justice (or vice versa); that
duty comes before pleasure (7); that others count (as much) as
oneself; etc., etc.
The kind of emphasis-imbalance between facts (ii) and
norms (iii) indicated above quite obviously operates and is quite
enough the make moral discourse very difficult indeed. But this is
not our concern here. Our task would be quite happily discharged
if we could give a plausible account for such a statement as that:
"If norm-vendettas and wars involved no more than the settling
of differences between well entrenched subjective attitudes, then
the price of wars or vendettas is too high to pay for that".
Should we show that, we would demonstrate that the
 263

objectivity underpinning our normative thinking is of basic and

practical importance?
In a way there is a considerable amount of agreement on this
principle, i.e. practically anybody would accept it as read. A war
is too high a price to settle purely subjective disparity of normative
assessment. The disagreement comes when a Shiite claims that he
is fighting for objective values, and so does his opponent. So we
should ask, at which point does subjectivity come in? In this case
we have a set of subjective views regarding the question what is
the objective norm, we also have considerable non-collusive
agreement on the point that subjective norms are not worth
bloodshed. The last is not perfect of course - some people like
violence and war, and most would defend their own way of life,
without claiming that this way of life is objectively good for
everybody. This last is complex.
People possessed of missionary spirit think that: the Muslim;
the Christian; the General Bullmoose way is good and right for
everybody - to impose it is to impose an objective standard.
Others firmly believe that not being forced to live up to someone
else's subjective conception of what is right is an objective good,
and that the preservation of people's right not to be so forced
constitutes an objective and important social norm. Ergo those
who defend their subjectively based way of life are defending an
objective and important standard, or at the very least commonly
believe themselves to be doing just that, they are defending their
rights. This type of complexity is quite important to note: if a
person warring with the public service for his right to wear a
caftan to work may have a serious purpose of defending his
rights, we may not easily assume that the involvement, or even a
264

reasonably central position, of a subjective attitude in an issue

means that the nitty-gritty of that issue is a subjective desire.
One prima facie reason for believing in the prevalence of
subjective issues in normative disputes is thereby removed. Even
if we take people who take violence and wars to be the preferred
way of settling all kinds of disputes, we may not easily conclude
that those people judge that mere subjective preferences are
important enough to justify a price in bloodshed and misery.
They are much more likely to believe that e.g. things such as
wars and combat, form a man's character, bring to the fore his
best qualities, etc., etc. If so they are accepting a standard that
most probably seems objectively right to them - they may be
wrong, even obviously wrong, but they are not frivolous.
The point that emerges from the above is the following - it is
not that easy to find, outside a philosopher's dispute that is, a
genuine disagreement with a general normative assessment such
as that considerable bloodshed is too high a price to pay to settle
what is no more than a difference between subjective preferences
qua such difference. This is a strong reason for accepting
assumption 9 as substantively correct. It cannot be denied that
genuine normative frivolity can be found, not indeed among those
who would, even frivolously, break a norm they accept as
objective, nor yet really among those who have no respect for the
norms they are capable of discerning, but among those who will
not, or cannot, recognize any norms, at any rate as objective. In
the first case they are, one is tempted to say, insanely frivolous,
in the second they fail to be sane. We can give an acceptable
(l.ccount of either or both quite easily when we accept assumption
2.
 265

It would seem then that it is not so difficult to find an

objectivity suggesting agreement vis-a-vis general normative
assessments. One suspects that this is so because such a general
assessment is 'meta' enough to be out of reach of subjective
ulterior motives. This motivation tends to be defended by
claiming that it is improper to read a situation as falling under
the accepted norm - the struggle in Northern Ireland is not, it is
claimed, a case of settling mere subjective preferences via blood-
shed and violence. In fact such a wrong-paragraph defence is
common, disagreement with the norm highly unusual.
This result runs counter, or seems to run counter, to another
important intuition, which though possibly controversial is
accepted by the present author who must take it seriously.
It would seem obvious that if in a particular case there is a
conflict between the action-directive derived from a general
normative rule, and the action-directiveimposed by a direct
moral intuition re this case, then if the intuition is strong and
serious it must prevail. This is highlighted by the celebrated
truth-telling case - if our rule tells us that in order to avoid
lying we must deliver the Jews into the hands of their Gestapo
oppressors we know that something is wrong with the rule. This
is what makes the case such a beautiful counterexample. Similar
examples are used to attack utilitarians, Kantianism, etc., etc. I
have always been dubious about the value of such arguments, for
it seems plain that it is in the nature of any general rule that it
cannot fit all possible cases - unless its force is stipulative i.e. is
meant to adjust and alter the existing status quo rather than
explicate it.s Taking the moral rules as explicative rather than
stipulative, it becomes quite easy to see why in appropriate test
266

cases the particular insight must take preference over the rule
- if it is our only check on that rule's limits of application.
There are of course constructive rules that are meant to be
absolute - the ten commandments are a prime example. But
should I respect my father and mother to the extent of helping
them to commit major crimes? It could be retorted that the ten
rules together delineate a system that prevents such an effect
- but then none of them is a strict action-<iirective, and if they
are absolute they can at best be absolute rules of thumb. Each
rule has limits to its application, but if we are strict about the
system these must be derivable from one or more of the other
nine commandments, and the need for such derivation, let us
suggest, will always be indicated by the nature of a particular
case, and our intuitions regarding it. Since the case where general
norms are not limited by particular insights is favourable to our
present case, we will assume the opposite without further ado.
It is perhaps easier to reach non-collusive agreement on a
general norm, because it is less intimately bound up with our
ulterior motivation, but also because it is expressed mainly in
terms of the decisive insight categories. We are not then
distracted by fog or lesser and multifarious reactions. This
drowning of main considerations in trivia is not a normative
problem in itself, as anyone with any experience in committee
work knows only too well. But the strength of the general norm is
also its weakness - it tends to be indirect vi~a-vis any
particular action-relevant situation ergo the fit is loose. Mostly
of course this does not matter, else the rule would be useless, but
sometimes it does, and sometimes this is painfully obvious. In
that organized technology of norms, the law, injustices and
 267

miscarriages of justice are the hallmark of these cases, for the law
cannot easily appeal to direct normative insight. Perhaps we can
offer a picture reconciling these tensions via the moral monster
technique. A moral monster case, such as constructed above, is a
case where the general normative rule fits a case precisely - there
is no slack, if the author of the case can prevent it. There is no
problem of interpretation and the insight comes into full force
- underscoring the objectivity of the result. The case is also
likely to be so odd and unusual that motivational trivia remain
inactive, they do not interfere with our reception of the norm as
objective.
So we have made rather more than just a prima facie case for
objectivism: firstly - it would be very difficult indeed to mount
any purely logical case against it, and this is strengthened by the
application of the principle of uniformity of explanation - on the
objectivist model the same type of explanation fits both
constative and normative discourse.
Secondly - We made out a case for the objectivity of
significant general assessments, such as that it is objectively
wrong to maximize suffering for the sake of maximizing suffering,
and similar ones. The case for this is in accord with our best
intuitions and with an overwhelming majority of our practices.
The case we made out justifies the special weight we give to
serious, normative assessment, and supports the idea of moral
standards.
It is perhaps important to note that beside the question
whether one's: reaction; assessment; opinion; decision; etc., is
objective or subjective, there is also the question whether in this
or that case, or type of case, it is reasonable to be subjective of
268

objective. A gentleman of 280 kg. of live weight would be

extremely unreasonable to sit on a delicate chair because of his
subjective feeling that his weight is not too much for the
threatened wooden frame. One would be equally unreasonable to
select a hobby, a career, a recreation, a friend, a mate, in
complete disregard of one's subjective reactions - even computer
dating attempts to tabulate such data, "scientific" as it is
supposed to by.
In choosing one's action-preference, especially where the
action is not dictated by the appreciation of constative facts,
one's subjective preferences are often reasonably included - as
e.g. when one chooses the puppy one likes, where only one can be
taken; or even dominant as e.g. when one refuses to go to a pop
concert for relaxation if one detests the modern kind of 'din'
presented. So my teenage daughter and I can never go to the
same concert - she detests the dull attempts at violin sawing-
throughout classical pieces.
Now even if I were right and her musical taste is abominable
on objective grounds, it would be both pointless and horrid to
force her to attend classical concerts - at best she would get
nothing out of it. It is so reasonable to take subjective reactions
into consideration that it is clearly right to produce unmistakable
penny-dreadful literature if there re those who love reading it,
but this of course is no reason to consider it as as good as
Shakespeare, Mann and Cervantes.
We may then add to the complexities of the normative-
constative comparison the fact that the proportion of cases where
it is reasonable to base action on our subjective assessment would
tend to be much greater in the first than the second division. It is
 269

not merely the simple addition of this consideration that tends to

produce an infelicitious impression of the subjectivity of
normative discourse, there is at least one secondary effect that
makes such an impression more insistent.
If I were sending a used razor-blade to a friend overseas, I
would put in my customs declaration that is has no value. Its
usefulness as a shaving-blade is at an end and the amount of
recyclable metal is negligible. Yet I could be very wrong indeed.
If that were a rare and early razor-blade, e.g. the first of the
concave edge ones, it could have quite a value on the collector's
market. Yes! There are used razor-blades collectors. It is because
of this that used blades have what might be termed a collector's
value. They, like postage stamps can be used as capital invest-
ment. Experts will be able to judge the value of a newly found
used blade etc., etc. The effect that interests us here is that, due
to the convergence of individual subjective tastes, a type of item
tends to a.cquire an independent value. This can happen with one
person's tastes, e.g. the taste of an emperor, or of the rich Polish
landowner who started collecting icons, when everyone else
regarded them as junk - he gave them a market value, because
he was willing to buy them. Of course disregard, on subjective
grounds, can deny a value to something even if it has it
intrinsically - this was the fate of Kingfoil in Tolkiens Lord of
the Rings. When the subjective appreciation comes, we often talk
of the value being discovered, or re-discovered. Thus
Mendelssohn (re)discovered the value of Johann Sebastian Bach.
But we can say this of obvious collector's value as well.
The above examples were of market or box-office values,
with possible exceptions due to the underlying positive value of
270

Kingfoil and Bach interfering with the purity of the samples. But
other cases are possible, e.g. the transition from acceptance to
abhorrence of slavery, etc. The collector's value is always:
market; box-office; or social acceptance value. We could read
some of the examples of putative objective value as pure
collector's value, where this value is all that there is to it. We
could read other cases as involving intrinsic (objective) values
which are either recognized or not only as collector's values. If so,
some might be fully recognized, some underrated, some over-
rated, some unrecognized. A subjectivist would have to say that
all value is but collector's value, and his story is plausible - this
kind of value is almost always independent of individual tastes, it
almost always has a structure all of its own, almost always it has
significance for those individuals who do not share the taste. The
kind of feature that the objectivist might wish to claim in
support of his claim, is so often, and possibly always, paralleled
by well established and entrenched collector's value, that this can
be effectively claimed as a counter-argument by the subjectivist.
But the subjectivist must admit that on his interpretation no
value can be unrecognized, underrated, overrated, or perceived
accurately. This admission is counter-intuitive, and it
impoverishes normative discourse in a drastic fashion. The only
complexity left is one whereby an individual, or individuals is
(are) in or out of step with other individual(s). Quite clearly, in
those terms it it possible to produce a fair facsimile of: correctly
judging; missing; underrating; or overrating the value of some-
thing - provided only that we can have the basic concept of
recognizing a value, and therein lies a difficulty. We can put this
difficulty fairly succinctly by saying that in order to create via
 271

the collector's value the kind of normative depth and complexity

that we accept without question when not philosophizing, it is
necessary to be able to distinguish between preference and value.
The complexity in question is actually predicated on this
contrast. The problem is predicated upon the applicability of the
distinction, in effect, between demand and value. It is
characteristic of the appropriate discourse that we can draw the
following distinctions, and ask the following questions: Is the
demand for rare used razor-blades based on the value these
blades possess intrinsically; or is it the case that the blades have
no value (or even have the negative value of junk) and the
demand creates marketability? Is the positive value of a flower
and a negative value of weeds intrinsic, or is it only collector's
value - reflecting the demand for the presence of one and the
absence of the other? Is all demand, or some demand, or no
demand based on intrinsic value? Is all intrinsic value spurious
and all apparent value only a reflection of demand? etc.
A real subjectivist must assent to the last suggestion - all
"value" is spurious, collector's value, and it is a function of
subjective desire and/or public demand. But this creates a very
serious problem. This theory is a theory of the total nature of the
universe, and of any possible universe of discussion. Given this,
intrinsic value, or value simpliciter, never occurs. Every reference
to value simpliciter, is then necessarily spurious, and every term
or expression marking such a reference necessarily idle. In such a
universe there is no conceivable use or application for any such
expression. The use of such an expression can have no function
whatever. In fact any such expression fails to mean anything.
Given the above it follows that the entire line of thought
272

fails; the arguments adduced above cannot be mounted if

complete moral subjectivism is in fact true. It cannot be
mounted, for the functors that define putative basic terms to
establish the possibility of discourse are inoperative; not even the
question of their being empty arises. They are only a pretence,
and fail to be genuine functors . For instance it is not possible to
say: "The truth or falsity of a sentence ascribing a value
simpliciter makes no difference to what we expect of the world",
for we have no such well-formed sentence available, that could
be either true or false. It is not merely the case that value-
simpliciter ascription has in fact, no use, but it is rather the case
that in logic it can never have any use. This is so, but only on the
subjectivist theory . An objectivist has no difficulty with the logic
of normative discourse, so he can raise the objectivist- -
subjectivist question. The point here is that the subjectivist
cannot either understand nor raise the question. This is a cripp-
ling impoverishment of the universe of normative discourse - it
leaves us for instance with no concept of reasonable choice, for it
is reasonable to choose what is actually better/more valuable,
and reasonable to reject what is worse. If there is a world in
which we live, and if there is anything objective about it, this is
quite drastic, for we have no technique left for dealing with such
a world reasonably. It has to be realised that every motivation is
then either completely unrelated to anything in this world, or
related to some normative assessment of something in this world.
If anything goes in assessment, anything goes in motivation, and
all contact with reality is lost; but let us remember the point
raised above - the lack of appropriate basic functors prevents us
from making these points as well. We have,
 273

for instance, used the expressions "actually better", "more

valuable"; without them how are we to say what it is that we are
missing on the subjectivist view? Now suppose that we wish to
say: "The world is a logical construct out of sense data and
subjective preferences." This might sound plausible, till we
remember that such a construct must not contain the slightest
element of the idea that a preference might be either correct of
mistaken, or that in valuing we make any contact whatever with
any actual element or feature of the world. If valuing becomes
quite pointless as a reaction to the world, at best it can be a sui
generis interest, that is completely self--<:ontained. Every interest
in such a world would always be like that quaint English hobby
of bell-ringing; bell-ringers do not even try to produce good
sounds, their sole interest is in complex ringing patterns - a
completely self--<:ontained esoteric preoccupation. With this there
arise serious difficulties with a theory of motivation, for it cannot
in such a set-up refer anymore to preferences favouring optimal
choices, set-ups, of factual potentialities. To claim that much is
to say that the choice was right, that the preference was for a
real value, or something very like it; and the subjectivist's
impoverished universe does not contain any possibility of that
kind, it has been removed together with the parameter of
objectivity.
Thinking along these lines it becomes increasingly clear that
we have failed to obtain a sensible result along subjectivist lines,
and therefore that the subjectivist has failed. It could perhaps be
claimed that the supposed failure appertains only to extreme
subjectivism; but then we have argued above that in effect there
can be no limited subjectivism, since it amounts to the
274

acceptance of the subjectivist-4:>bjectivist dualism with, at best, a

heavy emphasis on the role of the subjectivist element . This
accepts our position, and argues a point of detail, nothing more.
Finally, I would claim that this result is certain, provided
only that we accept the following equivalence:
value dJ: . function of demand
as the subjectivist claims himself is the case.

Notes
1 Using 'fact' in the widest possible sense.
2 Please note here the bias of the language - it is actually
difficult to state the present points in a neutral fashion.
3 Extreme animal-rights fanatics may replace in this
example the chasing of a piglet with the digging up of a large
yam - there is no reason to also substitute the piglet for the
daughter.
4 I was taught at school that it cannot, on the quite
reasonable ground that at that speed the vortexes created would
create an infinite force (but sonic boom intervened to retrieve the
situation).
5 Any theory claiming its norms to be absolute would then
fall foul of these arguments, and nothing making a softer claim
- the criterion is thus not theory-specific. Should the failures of
a type of norm be relatively very numerous, the norm would be in
jeopardy - this however is a different kind of criticism.
 14

ON FAIR DISTRIBUTION OF INDIVISIBLE GOODS

Klemens Szaniawski

Suppose that n indivisible objects are to be distributed among m

persons, in the sense that each object will be ascribed to a single
person. What are the requirements of justice for a procedure
effecting the distribution, i.e. for a function from the set of
objects to the set of persons?
In answering this question, the crucial point is, what such a
function is expected to depend on. It must, of course, depend on
how the persons evaluate the objects in question. Also, it will, in
general, depend on what the participants are entitled to get
(Gardenfors 1978 calls this the problem of qualifications). The
second dependence is disregarded in this presentation. It will be
assumed throughout that the participants are equally entitled to
their share. I am well aware of the fact that serious ethical
problems are thereby eliminated. A large part of discussion
concerning distributive justice focuses on the criteria (such as
merits, needs, etc.) according to which person X deserves to get
more than person Y.
On the other hand, the valuations of objects (goods) by the
participants in the distribution will be taken into account. They
will be given their weakest form, i.e. as preference orderings of

275
P. Geach (ed.). Logic and Ethics. 275-288.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers . .
276

the set of goods . Numerical representation of value (,utility')

would be needed only in case of interpersonal comparisons:
intensity of preference then becomes a differentiating factor in
the distribution. Since I intend to make no such comparisons, the
preference orderings will be sufficient.
Under these assumptions, the problems may be formally
described as follows.
Let us denote by 5 = {I, 2, ... , m} the set of individuals
participating in the distribution of G = {AI' A2, ... , An} objects.
The word 'object' is here taken in its broadest meaning, denoting
both material things, such as cars or books, and rights, privileges,
etc. as well . For any i = 1, 2, ... , m, Pi will represent the relation
of (strong) preference of the person i for objects belonging to G.
Correspondingly, Ii will denote the relation of indifference and Ri
will denote the union of Pi and Ii" The empty set 0 is also subject
to evaluation in terms of Pi' since the possibility of i getting
nothing in the distribution cannot be excluded. It will, however,
be assumed that 0 has the lowest rank in each person's preference
ordering:
(1) For all i and j, A . P . 0.
J Z
In other words, everybody prefers getting some element of G to
getting nothing. This justifies calling elements of G 'goods'.
In accordance with well known usage, a sequence {RV ..,R m }
will be called profile of preference orderings. I will denote by R
the set of all such profiles.
A division of G is any function d from G to 5, i.e. one that
attributes each good to some person. The problem now is: which
divisions may be considered fair? In other words, what kind of
necessary conditions, representing the postulate of fairness, must
 277

be imposed on divisions? It will be recalled that all the

individuals are assumed to be equally entitled to participate.
So far as I know, the literature concerning the above problem
is not very extensive. Theoretical studies of distributive justice
concentrated on the model of infinitely divisible goods (the
paradigm being money). On this basis, interpersonal comparisons
of utility appear rather natural. Also, the above mentioned
problem of qualifications received considerable attention.
Nevertheless, the problem of justice involving indivisible
goods was at least noticed. As defined above, it appeared in
Szaniawski 1966, later to be extended in Szaniawski 1979. The
present paper is based mostly on the last mentioned publication,
with some additional comments.
Of studies making similar assumptions, I should like to
mention Gardenfors 1978. As the title of his paper indicates, he
intends to avoid interpersonal comparisons and he achieves this
purpose (assuming equal qualifications) by identifying fairness
with the lack of envy. According to him, an attribution of goods
to individuals is fair if no one envies anyone else. Of course, this
is not always possible to achieve.
There is a number of other publications concerning the
distribution of indivisible goods. A very thorough survey of
literature may be found in Lissowski 1985.
Before I outline possible ways of approaching the problem,
certain simplifying assumptions will have to be made. The first of
them is: n ~ m, i.e. there are at most as many goods as
individuals. In the contrary case, the knowledge of the preference
ordering of the elements of G would be too weak, since it does
not generate preferences between subsets of G. It would be
278

necessary to assume preference ordering (for each individual) of

the power set of G; in fact, this is what Gardenfors assumes in his
1978 paper. Of course, n S m is not an innocuous restriction: the
more goods there are, relative to the number of persons, the more
possibilities we have of distributing them in such a way as to
accommodate individual wishes.
Out of the remaining cases, n = m is the least trivial, since
diminishing still further the number of goods results simply in
filling the unavoidable gaps in the distribution by means of 0
which stands lowest in everybody's hierarchy of preference.
Therefore, it will be assumed that n = m, unless otherwise
stated.
Furthermore, strong preference orderings present a more
difficult case than weak ones, since individual wishes are more
easily satisfied when indifference exists. For this reason, I will
assume all individual preference orderings to be strong.
Under this assumption, one postulate of justice appears
rather obvious:
(R) Each person gets exactly one object.
A violation of (R) would mean that some person got more than
one good while some other person got nothing; which constitutes
a case of inequality that could have been avoided.
It is difficult to see that we can go far beyond this somewhat
trivial recommendation, unless the conceptual apparatus is
essentialiy enriched. Before this is done, however, a natural move
would be to try to subsume the problem under a broader one, viz.
that of finding an acceptable social welfare function.
In order to establish this connection, let us first notice that a
preference ordering of objects in G by an individual i generates
 279

preference ordering of all possible divisions by the same

individual, provided it is assumed that i prefers a division dk to
another division dZiff i prefers what he (she) gets under dk to
what he (she) gets under dt If we denote the generated preference
by Pi the assumption is

(2) dk Pi dZ iff 'k

1( i) Pi ale
i) .
The corresponding weak preference relation Ri orders the set D
of all divisions for any individual i.
Here is an example for n = m = 3, G = {A, B, C} and the
profile of preference orderings given as
(3) A P1 B; B P 1 G
A P2 B; B P2 G
B P 3 A; A P3 G
The possible divisions can be represented as permutations of G
where the place of an object indicates the person to which the
object is attributed, e.g. BA G means that 1 gets B, 2 gets A, and
3 gets G.
(4) d1 ABG (123)
d2 AGB (131)
d3 BAG (213)
d4 BGA (232)
d5 GAB (311)
d6 GBA (322)
The numbers in brackets associated with a division show the rank
of the objects in the preference ordering of the individuals who
get them. The generated orderings Ri
of divisions obviously are:
(5) Ii
d1 ~; d2 li d3i d3 Ii d4i d4 li d5i dS Ii d6
12
d3 dSi dS 12 d1i d1 12 d6i d6 12 ~; d2 12 d4
d2 lj d5; dS P3 d4; d4 lj d6; d6 P3 d1; d1 1j d3
280

We thus can define a social welfare function as any function

leading from the set of all profiles of preference relations
{Ri, R 2, ..., R~} on D to the set of all preferences on D. The
original problem of how to associate a division of goods with
individual preference orderings of these goods now translates into
the problem of how to associate a 'social' ordering of all possible
divisions with a profile of individual preference orderings of these
divisions.
Of course, we run here against the impossibility theorem
which states that no such function exists if it is to satisfy certain
natural desiderata. In my 1979 paper I added the proviso:
"unless, of course, the transition from preferences on G to
preferences on D restricts the domain of the function in such a
way as to make the theorem of Arrow inoperative" .
It appears that this is not the case. It is easy to see that the
Condorcet paradox of majority which is at the base of Arrow's
theorem reappears here in a strengthened version. Consider the
case when the preferences of the participants in the distribution
are all identical, running from Al down to An' We are entitled to
make this assumption, since no profile of preferences over the set
G has been excluded. For such a profile, the set D of all possible
divisions (there are n! of them) can be partitioned into (n-l)!
groups, each group having the property of almost-unanimous
cyclical preference; 'almost-unanimous' means here: 'all but one' .
An example for such a group is
(6) Al A2 ... A n- 1 An
A2 A3 ... An Al
A3 A4 .. . Al A2

A n AI '" A n-2 A n-1

 281

The first division is preferred to the second by everyone except n,

the second division is preferred to the third by everyone except
n-l, ... the n-th division is preferred to the first by everyone
except l.
It is easy to see that every division in this cycle is obtained
from the preceding one by replacing Ak by Ak+ 1 (k In) and An
by AI" Starting from the permutation Al A2 ... An An_I' we
obtain another such cycle. And so on through (n-l)! initial
permutations, one element, say AI' held constant. Instead of a
majority cycle, we thus have almost-unanimity cycles, which
make a 'reasonable' social welfare function impossible to obtain.
There is nothing surprising in this fact. Identical (and strong)
preferences over the set of goods create a fully competitive
situation. Short of creating a dictator, there is no solution to the
problem in terms of divisions. In everyday practice, such ties are
resolved in a way considered to be fair to all the participants by
means of randomization, which procedure gives the participants
equal chances of success.
Indeed, in the case of indivisible goods probability seems to be
the only way to save the concept of fairness, since it makes
possible some kind of equal treatment of the participants.
Systematic use of probability consists in generalizing the concept
of division to that of distribution. By distribution I shall mean
any probability distribution on the set D of all divisions. Any
specific division d is, of course, a distribution associating 1 with d
and 0 with any other division.
A distribution rule leads from the set of all profiles of
preference orderings of G to the set of all distributions. The
problem is, what conditions could be imposed on distribution
282

rules, representing the postulate of justice.

The first condition, suggested in Szaniawski 1966, postulates
equal chances of satisfaction. It is already inherent in the well
known procedure of 'tossing a coin for it' when there are two
participants and one object they both desire (i.e. prefer to 0) . An
obvious generalization for the case we are considering here can be
described as follows .
Let p'I,{k) denote the probability that the i-th person gets the
Ar-th object in his (her) hierarchy of preferences. The postulate of
equal chances of satisfaction then is:
E p1,{k) = Pk(k) for all i, j, k.
In other words, everybody has the same probability of getting the
Ar-th object in his (her) hierarchy of preferences; k = 1, 2, ... , n.
The condition E imposes restrictions on the choice of distribution
rule. For instance, in the case of the profile of preferences (3)
given above, postulate E imposes the following equalities on the
probabilities Xi of the divisions d{
(7) Xl = x4 = x5; ~ = X:3 = x6
Any distribution satisfying (7) will do from the point of view of
justice conceived as equal probabilities of satisfaction. For
instance, Xl = x4 = x4 = 1/9; ~ = x3 = x6 = 2/9. The outcome
for person i is characterized by the vector of probabilities:
{p1,{I); pz{2); pz{3)}. A distribution satisfying (7) yields the
vector {1/3; 1/3; 1/3} for any i.
Still keeping to this example, we can easily notice from (4)
that the division d5 dominates d6 in the game-theoretic sense of
the word. In d5 , both 2 and 3 get their first-ranking objects
(instead of second-ranking objects) while 1 gets in both cases the
same. Similarly, d4 is dominated by ~. It would be sensible to
 283

eliminate d4 and d6 , in the spirit of Pareto optimality: both these

divisions can be improved upon without worsening anyone's
position. Generalizing this idea, we might adopt the following
postulate of optimality:
o For any di and dj if di is dominated by dj then xi = O.
In other words, Pareto inadmissible divisions are ascribed zero
probability. Applied to our example, the postulate (0) gives
(8) x4 = x6 = 0 .
This, however, coupled with (7), leads to Xi = 0 for all i, so that
the numbers Xi cease to constitute a distribution. It follows that
the postulates E and 0 are, in general, incompatible.
We can express the last observation this way. Perfect
equality in terms of probability of satisfaction can be achieved
only at the cost of using non-optimal divisions (in the sense of
Pareto). Unless, of course, the preferences are identical (which
eliminates domination) or there is no conflict to start with (e.g. 1
wants A, 2 wants Band 3 wants C the most). There are also
other profiles of preferences for which postulates E and a can be
reconciled (cf. Szaniawski 1979).
In view of the conflict between the two postulates, it is
natural to look for some other variant of justice that would be
free from the objection of non-optimality. In Szaniawski 1979,
such a variant was suggested in the form of 'postulate of equal
chances of choice'.
Let us imagine that the participants approach the set Gone
by one, taking what they most value out of the still available set
of goods; the last to choose takes, of course, what is left. EqUality
would then consist in randomizing the order of choosing: all
permutations of participants would be postulated to be equally
284

probable. The postulate, therefore, assumes the form:

C The probability that the participants choose in the
order k1~ ... km is equal to l/m! for all the permutations
k1~···km·
It is easy to verify that for the case under consideration, profile of
preferences given by (3), postulate C yields the distribution:
(9) Xl = 1/6; X:2 = 2/6; x3 = 1/6; x4 = 0; x5 = 2/6; x6 = O.
Non-<>ptimal divisions have thus probability equal to zero; this is
enforced by the very nature of the procedure.
Also, it ought to be remarked that in the case of strong
preferences the postulate C determines uniquely the distribution,
while the limitations imposed by E define, in general, a class of
distributions. The distribution (9) generates the following vectors
of satisfaction:
(10) For individual 1: {3/6; 1/6; 2/6}
For individual 2: {3/6; 1/6; 2/6}
For individual 3: {4/6; 0; 2/6}
We notice that both 1 and 2 have a better probability of
obtaining what they value most: 3/6, instead of 2/6 under a
distribution generated by E. Person 3 fares even better in this
respect, since he (she) has the probability 4/6 of obtaining the
highest-ranking good. This is the consequence of the fact that 1
and 2 have identical preferences, they both value A the most,
while for 2 the top-ranking good is B. It might be said that
under equal chances of choice, eccentricity of tastes is rewarded
by higher probability of getting what one wants.
There is an equivalent way of obtaining the same probability
distribution as that determined by C. Since it throws additional
light on C, it deserves analysis.
 28S

Let us start with attributing equal probabilities to all n

divisions. We now eliminate dominated divisions by a suitable
exchange of goods. In our example, this would mean exchanging
B and A in d4 (BCA) and thereby getting ~ (ACB). The initial
probability 1/6 of d4 is now attributed to ~. Similarly, A is
exchanged with Bin d6 (CBA) which yields dS (CAB); after this
exchange, the probability of dS is 2/6 while that of d6 is o. More
generally, if a dominated division di is eliminated by an exchange
of goods transforming it into dominating division dj then dj
receives the probability initially attributed to di .
It remains to show that this procedure is equivalent to
'choosing in succession' under the postulate C. We begin by
noticing that if all preference orderings are identical then the two
procedures coincide: there is a onEH:>ne correspondence between
the set of divisions and the set of permutations, each division
being obtained by a different permutation. For example, if
n = m= 3 and A Pi B, BPi Cfor i = 1, 2,3, we have
(11) divisions permutations
d1 ABC (123) 123
~ ACB (132) 132
d3 BA C (213) 213
d4 BCA (231) 312
dS CAB (312) 231
d6 CBA (321) 321
Thus, e.g. d4 is obtained by 3 having the first choice and taking
A, then 1 taking B, then 2 taking the remaining C. The numbers
in brackets denote, as before, the ranks of the corresponding
objects.
A change in individual preference orderings introduces
286

dominance and breaks the one-<>ne correspondence. Instead, a

correspondence between groups of divisions and groups of
permutations arises. On the one hand, we have groups of the
type: a dominating division dk and those dominated divisions
from which dk can be obtained by an exchange of goods. On the
other hand, we have the permutations representing orders of
choosing that all lead to the same division dk. In our example,
the group {d2, d4 } corresponds to {132, 312} both leading to ~,
and the group {d5 , d6 } corresponds to {231, 321} both leading to
d5. To put it short, the exchange of goods eliminating domination
corresponds to the exchange of individuals in the order of
choosing.
It turns out that equality in the access to the goods, in the
sense of equal chances of choosing, amounts to initial equi-
probability of all divisions plus elimination of Pareto non-optimal
divisions. This fact deserves notice, since the postulate C of equal
chances of choosing appeals to our sense of justice, while
elimination of dominated divisions does not. True, some
rudimentary form of equal treatment of participants is present in
the initial attribution of equal probabilities to all divisions. It
might be resorted to when there is no way of finding out
individual preferences. It actually becomes an egalitarian
procedure under the assumption that all participants have
identical preferences (an assumption quite often made in large-
scale practice). Generally speaking, however, it takes no account
of individual preferences.

A brief summary of the above analysis may be in order. I have

considered the problem of distributing a limited number of
 287

indivisible goods between individuals assumed to be equally

entitled to participate in the distribution. Justice then amounts
to some kind of equal treatment.
Very little can be achieved in this direction, unless
probability is introduced. Using probability, we can postulate
either equal chances of satisfaction or equal chances of choosing.
The second alternative is equivalent to initial equiprobability of
all divisions (i.e. ways of attributing goods to individuals) plus
elimination of Pareto non-optimal divisions. The postulate of
equal chances of satisfaction is, in general, incompatible with
Pareto optimality.
The individual values were here presupposed in their simplest
form, i.e. as preference orderings of goods. No interpersonal
comparison of utilities was, therefore, made. Preferences could, of
course, be interpreted as equally spaced utilities. This would open
certain possibilities. For instance, it has been shown in Lissowski
1985 that if the expected value of utility can be computed then
the procedure of choosing in succession under postulate C
generates no envy between the participants in the distribution. In
the present paper, as in previous ones, I have abstained from
assuming interval measurement of intensity of preferences.
Quite obviously, the ethical intuitions are, in this analysis,
extremely simple. They reduce to the belief that there is always
some egalitarian postulate behind the concept of distributive
justice: the postulate of equal treatment of people belonging to
the same category (in the above analysis, it was assumed that
they all belong to the same category). Given the simplicity of the
model, it might even seem unexpected that there can be more
than one form of equality here.
288

What practical use could be made of these ideas? Very little,

I am afraid. On a large social scale, the lottery methods of
distribution are seldom resorted to. I can, however, quote one
such case. In 1980 in Poland, because of the shortage of cars,
their distribution between people who had paid in advance was
decided upon by means of a lottery: a random device determined
whether the car would be delivered to a given person in a year's
time, or in two year's time, etc. It was, of course, assumed that
all persons concerned had the same preferences, i.e. they wanted
the cars delivered to them as early as possible.
As I have already said, on a small scale randomization is
widely used. Indeed, it was this practice that suggested the
present approach. It is, however, seldom assumed that individual
preferences are varied. Whereas the interest, if any, of the above
analysis is due to the unlimited range of profiles of preference
orderings. Hence the conclusion that the model of distributive
justice presented here has a mostly theoretical character.

References

Gardenfors, P., 1978. Fairness Without Interpersonal

Comparisons. Theoria 44, Part 2.
Lissowski, G., 1985. Sprawiedliwy podzial dobr (The Just
Distribution of Goods). Studia Filozoficzne, No.8-9,
237-38
Szaniawski, K., 1966. 0 pojeciu podzialu dobr (On the Concept
of Distribution of Goods). Studia Filozoficzne, 2/45.
Szaniawski, K., 1979. On Formal Aspects of Distributive Justice.
In: E. Saarinen et al. ed., Essays in Honour of Jaakko
Hintikka. D. Reidel, Dordrecht.
 15

NEEDS AND VALUES

Boguslaw Wolniewicz

Non-Naturalism

To begin with let us adopt some definitions. By a philosophical

anthropology we mean any explicit and fairly coherent view of
human nature, including the view that there is no such thing as
'human nature' at all. And by human nature we mean all the
hypothetical propensities which are to account for a constant
pattern displayed in the ways of human beings and common to
them all. (If there is no such pattern, there is also no human
nature.) Finally, we leave the crucial term 'propensity'
undefined, appealing to whatever meaning the reader is able and
willing to give to it himself.
Philosophical anthropology is to be distinguished both from
physical anthropology which is the study of the biological
peculiarities of human races, and from cultural anthropology
studying exotic customs and institutions. To take an easy,
though rather notorious example: what people usually call
"racism" is in fact a philosophical anthropology propounding the
view - highly questionable, to be sure - that human nature is
differentiated in accordance with certain palpable differences of

289
P. Geach (ed.), Logic and Ethics, 289-302.
© 1991 Kluwer Academic Publishers.
290

race.
Thus there are as many philosophical anthropologies as there
are different views of human nature. For the purpose at hand let
us divide them into two large groups: the naturalistic and the
non-naturalistic ones. The former are characterized simply by
the tenet that 'man is just part of nature'. There are many
adherents of this tenet in contemporary philosophy, and they
belong to at least three distinct trends: to the positivist, to the
materialist, and to the Freudian one, the latter being a hybrid of
the two former. A fair sample of the naturalistic bend of mind are
the following statements by Ernest Nagel (Logic without
Metaphysics, 1956, pp. 9, 11, and 27):

Naturalism ( ... ) does not regard man and his works as

intrusions into nature, any more than ( .. ) the presence
of heavenly bodies or of terrestrial protozoa.
A moral ideal is the imagined satisfaction of some
complex of impulses, desires, and needs.
To the naturalist ( ... ) there is no more mystery in the
fact that certain kinds of bodies are able to think ( .. )
than there is in the fact that cogs and springs arranged
in definite ways can record the passage of time.

Non-naturalistic anthropology is based on a rejection of the

naturalistic tenet: man is not just part of nature; actually he
steps out of it. And this stepping out consists in his awareness of
objective values, i.e. of values which are not just gratifications of
one's desires. A classic example of a non-naturalist anthropology
is that of Kant, according to whom human nature has two
radically different components: one is man's "empirical
character" which is wholly part of nature, the other is his
"intelligible character" which is part of a mundus intelligibilis
governed not by the principle of causality but by moral law.
 291

However, there are also more recent representatives of that

general position. One is the contemporary Polish poet and
thinker Czeslaw Milosz, and a good illustration of his views is the
following passage taken from his book The Land of Ulro (Paris
1977, in Polish, pp. 194/195):

Genuine atheists are rare birds, I think. They

constantly track in themselves relics of old creeds,
rejecting them one after another. An imposing relic of
that kind is the unconfessed faith in the beneficial
effects of natural evolution, and of its extensions in the
history of mankind. That faith, however, presupposes a
covenant which would need two parties ( ... ). If, after
billions of years of evolution, man has emerged on earth
by way of random mutations, then ascribing to the
universe any good intentions with regard to him is
simply a variant of religious thinking. There is, in fact,
no relation whatever between the realm of human
values and the inexorable laws of the universe. Nor is
there any reason to suppose that there are some brakes
in operation to save mankind from ultimate disaster
and misery. Even the passion for truth - so dear to
scientists, and so utterly inexplicable - is not rooted in
anything. The genuine atheist of tHay differs greatly
from his predecessors ( ... ). Indeed, if we consider
carefully enough man's solitude in the universe, and his
fundamental "unnaturalness", then the atheistic
progressivist of the foregoing century appears as a
continuation of the well-known religious triad:
Paradise, Paradise Lost, and Paradise Regained ( ... ).
Postulating a human life in harmony with nature, with
the universe or a cosmic reason, is like believing in
mermaids and goblins; i.e., it is a relic of the 'animistic
tradition'. Man is alone - and if there are intelligent
beings on other planets, then they too have emerged by
chance, and are equally alien to the universe.
292

A utonomous Value

With Henryk Elzenberg we mean by axiology a general theory of

value. Now the two groups of philosophical anthropologies
mentioned have their counterparts in two different concepts of
value, and in the two different axiologies based on those two
concepts. For a naturalistic axiology value is anything which
answers either to a need, or to a desire. (To put it as the
paradigm naturalist Herbert Spencer does, good is what is
required for life and its growth.) Following Elzenberg, let us call
the concept of value just defined utilitarian value. The naturalist
position may then be stated as follows: aU value is utilitarian.
Evidently, utilitarian value is always relative to some subject
of needs and desires. That subject need not be human, for to have
needs a thing has merely to be a living organism, like a plant
which needs water; and to have desires it should be only a
sentient creature, like a caged bird striving to fly. Using
Aristotelian terminology we might say just as well that to have
needs a substance should have an anima vegetativa, and to have
also desires it should have an anima sensitiva.
For a non-naturalistic axiology the point of departure is the
assumption of a realm of autonomous values, the autonomy
consisting in their independence of any needs or desires; indeed,
of the existence of any subject. How such value is to be
adequately characterized is a difficult question, and we do not
want to raise it here. (Elzenberg himself used to characterize it as
anything which is such as it should be.) Autonomous values are
perceived only by rational beings, and - using a terminology
introduced by Dr. Ulryk Schrade of Warsaw - we might say their
 293

perception, i.e. "knowledge of good and evil", constitutes the

axiological awareness of those beings. But to know the good does
not yet mean actually to pursue it, nor does knowing the evil
mean actually avoiding it; in fact it does not even mean that
there is a will to pursue the one, and to avoid the other, Le. that
there is a corresponding axiological intention. Thus axiological
awareness and axiological intention are two distinguishable and
separable features of any axiological personality. Clearly, only a
rational being can have such a personality, though it need not
have one. Let us also observe that although the autonomous
values are conceived as existing independently of the existence of
any rational beings, still they owe their efficacy in the world of
facts only to the latter; i.e., they operate in that world only by
affecting the minds of intelligent subjects.
The tenet of non-naturalism may now be formulated a bit
more sharply: man steps out of nature in so far only as he is
guided in his actions not merely by his needs and desires, but also
by the autonomous values which he has been able to recognize.
Thus man's 'stepping out of nature' is always a matter of degree.
We should also note that in any case this guidance by
autonomous values is incomparably weaker than guidance by the
utilitarian ones. For the latter operate with the power of the
elements, and easily push the others out of sight (as in Nagel's
definition of a 'moral ideal' just quoted above). Nevertheless both
are there.
We may illustrate the non-naturalist's point by a rough and
ready physical simile. In an electric conductor free electrons move
randomly around, their random motions being due to heat: the
greater the heat, the more violent the motions. Let the free
294

electrons represent acting subjects, the heat corresponding to the

intensity of their needs and desires. To a casual observer the heat
motion might appear to be the only one present. Suppose,
however, there is an electric field in the conductor. Then the free
electrons are at the same time carried away in the direction of
the current flowing in it. But to the causal observer the overall
picture will hardly be changed by that, for the rate of their
electric motion is quite insignificant in comparison to that of
their heat motion. (In fact, the one is billions of times greater
than the other.) The electric field corresponds to the autonomous
values operating upon subjects receptive to them. That operation
is easily overlooked, and without the subjects - i.e. without free
electrons, as in an insulator - it would make no appearance at
all. Still it would be there.
The autonomous values which due to the efforts of men have
made their appearance in the world of nature form in their
totality what Elzenberg called culture. In opposition to it he
meant by barbarity the frame of mind in which the only values
understood -let alone followed, as presently holds with good
manners - are the utilitarian ones, the rest being "irrelevant".

Doubts on Naturalism

The naturalistic conception of value, and the relativism which is

inherent in it, are often treated as if they were a matter of course.
A case in point is described by Milosz (ibid., p. 193-194):

Among my students those regarding themselves as

Christians are rather few ( ... ), and only once I got into
 295

serious conflict with them having openly taken sides

and revealing my persuasion that there is good, and
that there is evil. This appeared to them intolerably
reactionary. They regarded it as definite that human
behaviour depended solely on social and mental
determinants, and that consequently all values were
entirely relative.

Indeed, if the only values are utilitarian ones, then they are all
relative, depending on the needs and desires which determine
them. However, these needs and desires are given only in so far as
the biological constitution of the human organism is given too. In
axiology naturalism is a plausible position only as long as it
always can fall back upon that constitution as a kind of a
biological absolute which gives its values the requisite stability.
But things are changing now, and we are being confronted with
the technical feasibility of reconstructing human organisms at
will, and thus also their needs and desires.
One of the first to have fully realized the axiological
implications of that momentous change was the Polish writer and
philosopher Stanislaw Lem. In 1969 he wrote in an enunciation
entitled Philosophy on a Floe:

History has brought us to a point at which everything

gets instrumentalized ( .. .). Hence traditional philosophy
finds itself on a floe ( .. . ) moving in unknown directions,
and carried by the waves of unbridled technology. (... )
Meanwhile they (i.e. the pragmatic futurologists)
accept every change, thus relativizing all value, and this
not only in the field of norms and laws, i.e. in the field
of culture, but also in the up to now inviolable field of
physical organization of man. For we are confronted
with biotechnology, i.e. with an invasion of the human
body. ( .. . )
If the biotechnical evolution should proceed at this
rate, then soon one will be able to do with the human
body absolutely everything. And then all bearings will
296

be lost, all the fix-points, all knowledge about the

infrangible and the necessary. ( ... )
For indeed, if by means ot perfect technologies one
attains an almost perfect freedom of action, then no
empirical - i.e. instrumental - calculation can provide
any answer to the question of what should be done ( ... )
The futurologists do not offer any permanent values,
and the only principle which is derivable from their
dealings is this: the machine works, hence everything
should be done to keep it going. If hearts can be
exchanged, let us exchange hearts; if lungs may be
exchanged for some synthetic organ, let us do it too;
and so on. In consequence, what should be done is
determined in fact by what can be done at the present
moment. However, this equation of the possible with
the proper seems to me to indicate a nihilistic trend in
our culture, supplanting axiology by the quite ground-
less faith that the order in which the sciences make
their discoveries is a reliable guide-line for the destiny
of mankind.

We see that Lem and Milosz are quite close to each other in their
axiological conclusions. This closeness is remarkable, as otherwise
they are people of very different philosophical persuasions: Lem
sticks to a rugged evolutionary physicalism, whereas Milosz's
position might be described as a kind of Manichean existen-
tialism. There should be thus some good reason for the
convergence of their views on that particular point.
Lem's diagnosis was soon corroborated by events, and in fact
it has been shown by them to have been rather conservative. Let
us cite just one telling example of that: in October 1983 we could
again read in our papers about the sinister Dr. Robert White of
Cleveland, Ohio, who is to have announced then in Rome that
'modern medicine makes it surgically feasible to transplant the
head of one man to the body of another'. Without commenting
on this ominous news let us merely observe that it is certainly a
 297

crude harbinger of things to come. Transplanting heads is not yet

the same as transplanting - or implanting - needs and desires,
but it shows in that direction unmistakably. And if we look in
that direction, we see - among a host of other things - that the
naturalistic reduction of human values to human needs and
desires is a specious one. For to preserve any of its initial
plausibility it cannot take 'human desires and needs' to mean
here 'all the needs and desires displayed by a certain species of
the primates and defined purely biologically'. No, the adjective
'human' must be taken here in an evaluative sense, which
involves a covert appeal to some standard of values independent
of the needs or desires to be qualified by it. And then the
naturalistic reduction turns out to be circular: value is what
satisfies some valuable human needs or desires. And we are back
to where we started.

Counte1'- Values

Now let us waive the questions raised by the perspective of

changing the human organism and its needs in unpredictable
ways, and suppose the construction of that organism to be fixed
and given. This will not vindicate naturalism either, but the
doubts arising then are such as to affect also the position of the
non-naturalist. In fact, this is our main point, but to state it
adequately we have to make some further assumptions.
We assume here, in the first place, that whatever is of value,
and whatever satisfies a need or a desire, is never a thing, but
always a possible state of affairs. If we say, e.g., that oxygen is a
298

constant need for animals, this is just short for saying that being
constantly supplied with free oxygen is such a need; and the
phrase 'being constantly supplied with free oxygen' clearly
denotes a state of affairs, not a thing. We do not know whether a
transformation like that is feasible in all cases where one does
speak of 'needs'; we merely assume it is. Consequently, our
universe of discourse will be the totality of possible - though not
always mutually compossible - states of affairs. Let us mark it by
SA.
Secondly, we assume with Elzenberg that every desire creates
some needs. We assume even more, i.e. that whatever is desired,
is thereby needed too, though not conversely, of course. Thus any
state of affairs which gratifies some desire is such that at the
same time it satisfies the corresponding need of the subject in
question. In view of this the set D of possible states of affairs
gratifying some desire, and the set N of those satisfying some
need, are both subsets of the universe SA, with D being a subset
of N. Observe that the subjects of needs and desires, whatever
they are, are not members of SA. They form a universe of their
own, S, and the needs and desires of the members of S may then
be regarded as two different projections of S into SA. I.e., we
have d: S -+ SA, n: S-+ SA, and D = d(S), N = n(S).
A third universe which is to be taken into account in our
context is the realm AV of autonomous values, and in view of our
first assumption it will have an image in the universe SA too.
But here an important reservation is called for, namely that the
realm AV splits clearly into two: into the set of positive values
(i.e. values proper), and that of negative values (i.e. counter-
values). If a state of affairs comes into existence which
 299

corresponds to the former, then something good has happened;

and if one corresponding to the latter, then something evi~ or at
least bad has happened. The relation of negative and positive
values to each other is an intricate question, as may be seen from
Elzenberg's paper in this volume. For our purpose, however, we
have merely to assume that by projecting AY into SA one gets
two disjoint sets of states of affairs: the set y+ of the valuable
and the set Y- of the counter-valuable ones.
Let us observe finally what is overlooked by most naturalists,
and also by some non-naturalists: the sets y+ and Y- are
independent of both Nand D. A desired state of affairs, as well as
a needed one, may be either of positive value; or it may be
axiologically neutral; or it may be of negative value, since there
are desires in the human heart which are vicious. In view of this
observation we obtain a picture as presented in the diagram. But
let us stress it again that the sets indicated in that diagram are
only projections of something located outside of it. (Cf. thesis
6.41 of Wittgenstein's Tractatus which is neatly illustrated
thereby.) Note, moreover, that the members of Y- are exactly
those states of affairs each of which would prevent by its
existence some members of y+ from coming into being; and also
- this time in opposition to Elzenberg - the other way round.
The rest, i.e. the members of the set SA - (y+ UYj, are all
neutral, i.e. their existence or non-existence is indifferent to that
of any member of either y+ or Y-.
Our simple picture is helpful in clarifying some things which
are often easily confused. We can see now that naturalism must
take into account only the beneficial and the neutral needs and
desires of men. Hence it must either use a subprojection n I ( n
300

SA = possible state of affairs

Diagram

such that n'lSI = N - V-, or regard the set N n V- as empty,

thus setting n = n', and turning with Rousseau a blind eye on
the rest. For no less is necessary to be able to identify with some
plausibility positive values with the objects of needs and desires.
For non-naturalism the axiological role of needs and desires
is taken over by the will, regarded as man's capacity of being
guided in his actions by the perception of autonomous values, i.e.
by his axiological awareness. However, there is a strong tradition
here - going back to Socrates, and incorporated in the Thomist
tenet that bonum est appetitum - according to which man's
axiological awareness is sufficient to determine his axiological
intention, though not his actual actions; he always strives for
what he has perceived as good, and he never strives for what he
 301

has perceived as evil.

Now the last proposition has no more plausibility than the
naturalistic one, provided it is not taken as analytic, i.e. as a
meaning postulate stipulated on the terms involved. Video
meliora, deteriora sequor. this famous verse need not mean - as
it is usually taken to - that seeing the good we do not follow it
because our flesh is weak. It may also mean that we do not follow
the good seen because we do not want it, i.e. because our will is
evil. The classic representative of such a position is again Kant
Nith his conception of radical evil in human nature, put forward
n his book on Religion within the Limits of Mere Reason.
1oreover, there is an axiological personality conceivable which
aving a perfect axiological awareness has at the same time an
averted axiological intention, liking and wishing what is evil not
ust sometimes, but always. Kant called such a personality
iiabolical', and Elzenberg in his later years held it to be the rule:
From my point of view man is by essence a creature of evil will'.
Now, as we have pointed out, in the non-naturalistic view
lan is not just part of nature by being guided not by utilitarian
alues only, but also by autonomous ones. However, nothing has
'een said about the gist of that guidance: whether it is straight or
lVerted, diabolical or divine. And we think this really should be
~ft open. For whatever man's will, by his axiological awareness,
e. by his knowledge of good and evil, he is already out of nature
nd part of another order of things. Such a non-naturalism might
e called bilateral or Manichean, in opposition to the unilateral or
latonic one. Moreover, one should keep in mind that the non-
ilaturalism of Christian anthropology - i.e. the Augustian one-
is an imperfect amalgamation of both.
302

Finally, two objections may be anticipated here against using

the concept of the 'diabolical' as an axiological category. Firstly,
some would like to call an inverted axiological intention by the
name of 'moral insanity'. This, however, is the naturalistic dodge
again: to make moral qualifications in medical guise, as when
calling some human needs and desires 'healthy', and others
'unhealthy' . For non-naturalism medicine is no substitute for
axiology, and neither is psychology.
Secondly, there is a tendency - presumably due to the
traditions of unilateral non-naturalism - of conceiving the
diabolical as something fearfully impressive and darkly
spectacular, like the person of the Grand Inquisitor in
Dostoyevsky. According to Hannah Arendt's great insight,
however, this is not so: it is just banal. And only this is what
makes it truly fearful, not its sordid looks.
 INDEX

Ability, exercise of linguistic 169-196 values 235

Absolute, biological 295 Antecedent morality 54
notion of truth 243 Anthropology, Christian 301
Accepted values, antagonistic naturalistic 290-302
character of 235 non-naturalistic 290-302
hierarchy of 234, 235 philosophical 289-302
Accompaniment, non-verbal 180 Anti-attitude, practical 202-223
Achievement of logical coherence 16 Apodeictic proof 86
of psychological integration and Applicability of truth concept to
stability 16 ethical statement 249, 252
Acknowledgement of inexact Application of liberal solution 135
predicates 200 of paradigm 68
Act of appreciation 72 to assertion 171
Action Applied set theory, language of 244
consistency in 15 Appreciation, act of 72
directive rule 265, 266 direct act of 73
relevant fact 262 indirect act of 73
relevant normative assessment 262 non-defective act of 72
relevant item 259 of constative fact 268
truth in 49 Approach, model-theoretic 250
Actual or possible facts, ascertainment Aquinas' perplexus simpliciter 44
of 199 Aqvist's paradox 40-43
Advice, conflicting 12 Arendt, H 302
Advocacy of mutual toleration 138 Argument, imperative 124
Against tolerating the intolerable 131 indicative 113
Aiken, H D 234-236 moral 110, 114,117
Albert, H 236-239 ordinary propositional 117
Alternative form of morality 237, 239 propositional 34
logics 200 Aristotle 123,206
Ambiguity of mixed strategy 152, 153 logic 33
Analogue of entailment 113 false step 35
oftruth 113, 114, 117 Arrow, theorem of 280
Analogy between theoretical and Ascertainment of actual or possible
practical necessity 199 facts 199
Anscombe, GEM 67 of practicabilities 202-223
Anselm, 5t 36 Ascription, character of 170
Antagonistic character of accepted Aspect of normativity 167

303
304

Asserting a proposition 80, 88 Awareness, axiological 293, 300, 301

inconsistent propositions 95 Axiological category 302
Assertion 53, 59, 61, 63, 64 intention 293, 301, 302
application to 171 personality 293, 301
as expression of belief 69 Axiology, naturalistic 292
communication of truth by 65 non-naturalistic 292
condition 172 theoretical frame of 72
distinctive character of 81 Axiom of ethics 225
ethics and 63 Axiomatization of ethics 238
existence of 69
facts about 57 Bach, J S 269, 270
false 54 Bad act, definition of 55
human response to 62 lie as paradigm of 68
inconsistent 7 Bambrough, R 1
language-game of 60 Basic axiological assumptions 239
moral weight of 65 moral ideas, dogmatization of 238,
of the proposition 58, 69 239
practice of 58 norms do not express authentic
value-laden concept of 67 attitudes 228-231
verbal 60 incomplete system of 233-236
Assertoric utterance 171, 172 motivational function of 229,230
selection of 169 vagueness of 231-233
Assessment, normative 264, 265 Bay, C 237
subjective 259 Behaviour, rule-governed 170
Assumption, basic axiological 239 Belief and value, commitment to 10
of objective facts 258 expression of 65
of subjective perception 258 moral 91, 92
Asymmetry 137 system, philosophical 18
of attitude 143 Berlin, I. 7
Atomic proposition 122 Biological absolute 295
sentence 242 life 75
Attitude, asymmetry of 143 Bivalence, principle of 103-106
numinous 76 Blind eye, turning a 36
propositional 87 Braithwaite, R B 147
prudential 214 Brandt, R B 225
to imperative 87 Brock, H W 150
Attribution of significance, distinction Butler, R A B 213, 214
for 189
Authentic attitudes, basic norms do Calculus, propositional 116
not express 228-231 Categorical imperative 211, 212
Autonomous value 292-294, 298 Category, axiological 302
perception of 300 of speech-act significance 179
Autonomy of meaning 175 Causal character of rationally

constraining process 9
Cervantes 268
Character of ascription 170
Characteristic of indicative I 13
Christian anthropology 301
Circularity, Hume's accusation of 55
Class, practicability 215-220
Classical calculus of proposition 106,
107
intuitionist logic 200
Classificatory predicate 249
Code of conduct, hierarchy of219
of maxims 218, 219
Cognitive aspect oflanguage use 170
of understanding 171
perceptual aspect 175
value of ethical statement 252
Cogniti vism 170 171
objection to 182
picture 167
Commitment of belief and value 10
Common sense 6
understanding 6
universe of discourse 261
Communication of truth by assertion
65
Comparative predicate 249
Comparison, normative-constative 268
of theoretical judgement and
practical evaluation 200
of utility 287
Concept, acquisition of, problem of
184
normative 177
of axiom, methodological character
of 239
of logical inconsistency 209
oflogical possibility 201
of positive and negative value 21
of practical inconsistency 209
of speech act identification 167
set-theoretic 242
value-laden 56, 65
305
Conception, morally-loaded 55
of morality 257
of normative ethics 228
of radical evil in human nature 301
Conciliatory solution 146
Concrete norms of conduct 229
Condition, assertion 172
intuitive 8
of intersubjective generalization
210
truth 169, 172, 186, 188, 243
Condorcet paradox of majority 280
Conduct, concrete norms of 229
maxim of 13
Conflict, value 7
Conflicting advice 12
intentions 12
proposals 12
Conjunction, definition of 208
of deontic conditions 218,219
of deontic requirements 218, 219
of maxims 218
of practical attitudes 204, 205
Conscience, principle of following
132 134
Consideration, normative 179
of practical attitude 202
Consistency, ethics and limits of 1
in action 15
of philosophical account of
practical and moral enquiry
16
ofthought 15
Constative fact, appreciation of 268
item 259
Constraint of justice 134
Content of saying 186 187
of speech 63
propositional 171, 179
Contextual implication 102, 103, 115
Contradebitum 26
Controlled conduct 13, 16
Controversy in ethical matters 248
306
Conviction of the plain man 6
Coordinate, failure to 162
Coordinated non-symmetrical game
158
strategy 163
Coordination, partial 159
pattern, implementation of 154
Correctness, criteria for conditions of
187
distinguishable aspect of 179
of judgement of utterance-meaning
191,192
rules of 178
standard of 179
Correlate, extra-linguistic 168
Counter-values 297
Critical and revisionary enquiry 237
Crusade, personal 138-140
Davidson, D 171
Debitum 26, 29, 30
Decent proposal 164
Deducing norms, process of 234
Deductive model in ethics 225, 231 ,
238
Defining assertion in terms of
externally visible action 67
Definition of a bad act 55
of conjunction 208
of derivative value 30
of logical impossibility 201
of lying 51
of negation 208
of non-logical possibility 201
of practical implication 208, 221
of practical inconsistency 208, 209,
221
of practical indifference 204
of truth, model-theoretic 246
recursive 242
Degree of objectivity in judgement of
significance 190
Deliverance of ordinary moral
consciousness 6
Deontic conditions, conjunction of
218,219
logic 33, 34, 47, 48
and imperative logic 79
rules of 116
operator 35, 36
propositional 35
requirements, conjunction of 218,
219
systems, preferential and 215-220
Deontically perfect world 45 464748
Derivative value, definition of 30
Description of divergence of attitude 4
Descriptive statement 241
Difference between concrete prac-
ticabilities 215-220
between speech and other human
activity 68
Dilemma, linguistic ability 172, 173
Prisoner's 147-165
Direct act of appreciation 73
object of74
Directly valuable objects, logical
classification of 74
Discordance 209
Discourse, common universe of 261,
298
normative 270, 272
Disguised imperative 128, 129
Disjunctive major premise 121
proposition 122
Disposition of will 69
Dissimilarities, exhibition of 202
Distinction between names and
predicables 35
between proposition and assertion
57
for attribution of significance 189
Distinctive character of assertion 81
Distinctness of normative considera-
tions 185
Distinguishable aspect of correctness

179
Distribution rule 281-288
Ditch between theoretical and
practical reasoning 13
Divergence of attitude, description of
4 and science, understanding the
Dogmatization of basic moral ideas
238,239
Dominated practical attitudes 210
Dostoyevsky, F 302
Doubt on naturalism 294
Dualism, subjectivist-objectivist 274
Dummett,66
Dummett 172, 179
Elzenberg, H 21, 292, 294, 298, 299,
301
Empirical belief system, indisputable
ideal for 7
character of man 290
content of logical classification 74
predicate 251
vagueness of 244, 245
Entailment, analogue of 113
Entities, set-theoretic 247
Equal chances of choice, postulate of
283--288
of satisfaction, postulate of 282-288
Equality, sense of 77
Equality, set-theoretical 74
Equivocation 53
Ethical and moral teaching, shaping
and constraining by 9
intuition 287
judgement 248
matters, controversy in 249
predicate 247-252
vagueness of 248, 249
root of language 49
statement 248,251
applicability of truth concept to
249,252
cognitive value of 252
307
truth of 250
value of 241-253
theorem 71
Ethics and limits of consistency 1
and morals 9
relation between 8
assertions and 63
axiom of 225
axiomatization of 238
deductive model in 225, 238
Evaluation of practicabilities 199,200,
202
Evaluative logic, relations of 220
Evil, moral 50
Exact language of science 72
Exclusion theory 25
Exercise oflanguage mastery 173, 174
of language-possession 178
linguistic ability 169-196
of mutual tolerance 135
Exhibition of dissimilarities 202
Existence of assertion 69
Expectation, reductionist 182
Experience of moral conflict 7, 8
of understanding, introspectible
aspect of 176
Exposure of hidden contradiction 1
Expression, legally-loaded 55
modeof2
morally-weighted 53, 56
of belief 65
assertion as 69
of fundamental moral aspirations
231
time-indicating 34
Extension of concept of truthfulness
68
Externally visible action, defining
assertion in terms of 67
Extra-human things, relations to 75
Extra-linguistic correlate 168
Extremes, theory of 25
308
Fact, action-relevant 262
objective 259-261
Failure to coordinate 162
Fair distribution of indivisble goods
275-288
Fairness, postulate of 276
Fallacy, naturalistic 250
False assertion 54
justification of 49
theory of bad actions being 50
wrongness of 66
belief in self 49
proposition 52, 58, 64
First level, practical attitude of
203-223
First-order vagueness 245
Fitting the world, notion of 10
Formal or logical reasoning, level of
199
system of practical evaluation
220-223
Formation of intention 173
Foundation of axiology , principle of
transcendence and 71
Frailty of human nature 47
Frege, G 35, 38, 39
Freud, S 290
Function of logic 118
Fundamental moral aspirations,
expression of 231
Game, coordinated non-symmetrical
158
language 60
Matthew and Luke's 147-165
non-symmetrical 151, 157, 158, 161
non-zero-sum 146, 152, 162,163
symmetrical 150, 156, 157, 158,
161
zero-sum 146, 147, 152, 162
Gardenfors, P 275, 277, 278
Geach, PT 33
General assessment, objectivity of 267
Generic concept of value 29
Gormally, M C 49
Gosse, Mrs 66
Grzegorzcyk, A 71
Hare, R M 85, 94,117,126,127
Harmonia, Platonic requirement of 10
Harmonization of norms 228
Harrison, J 79
Hegel 18, 19
Heraclitus 2, 16
Hidden contradiction, exposure of 1
Hierarchy of accepted values 234, 235
of codes of conduct 219
Hobbes, T 199
Hofstadter, D R 151
Holowka, J 145
Human capability of injustice 50
nature 289
conception of radical evil in 301
frailty of 47
response to assertion 62
values, naturalistic reduction of 297
Humanism, postulate of 237
Hume 2,49-55,65,66,201
accusation of circularity 55, 66
Hypothetical imperative 108, 109, 117
Ideas of objectivity of ethics 7
of rationality 50
Imperative 83-86, 89,90-93,98-129
argument 124
attitude to 87
disguised 128, 129
hypothetical 108, 109, 117
inconsistent 7
logic 81
deontic logic and 79
redundancy and inconsistency of
120
species of 80, 103, 106
theory 90
undisguised 128

universal 100
universalisable 94
Imperativism 79. 91. 94. 96
Implementation of coordination
pattern 154
Implication. contextual 102. 103. 115
ordinary 102
non-contextual 103
practical 204
Imposing an objective standard 263
of requirement on phenomena 14
Impossibility theorem 280
Incompatibility with postulate of
criticism 238
Incomplete system of basic norms
233-236
Inconsistency. practical 95. 302
theoretical 95. 204
Inconsistent assertion 7
imperative 7
moral judgement 7
proposition 202, 203
Indicative argument 113
characteristic of 113
logic of 116
redundancy and inconsistency of
120
Indifference, practical attitude of
202-223
relation of 276
Indirect act of appreciation 73
Indisputable ideal for empirical belief
system 7
for value system 7
Individual possession 77
Indivisible goods, fair distribution of
275-288
Inexact predicates, acknowledgement
of 200
Infanticide 79, 80
Injunction, moral 89
Injustice, human capability of 50
tolerating 134 135
309
Intelligible character of man 290
Intended interpretation of predicate
248
vague 245
Intention, axiological 293, 301. 302
conflicting 12
formation of 173
Interpersonal comparison of utility
277
neutrality of moral judgement 100
Interpretation of predicate 244
Intersubjective generalization.
condition of 210
Intolerable. against tolerating the 132
Intolerance, propriety of 138
Introspectible aspect of experience of
understanding 176
Intuition, ethical 287
moral 265
Intuitionistic standpoint 251 252
Intuitive condition 8
Item, action-relevant 259
constative 259
normative 259
Jack, J 167
Jackson. J 131
Judgement, ethical 248
moral 80,82-90,94-129
moral and ethical II
object of 171
of significance 181, 186, 193, 196
degree of objectivity in 190
truth of 189,191
of utterance-meaning 188
correctness of 191, 192
of utterance-significance 178, 194
practice, rule-governed 176-178
practical conception of 175, 176
speech-act 183
theoretical 199-223
Justice, constraint of 134
Justification of false assertion 49
310
Justinian 202
Kant, 1107,199,206,211,212,217,
265,290,301
Komer, S 199,206
Kurtz, P 237
Lack theory 25
Ladd,J 225
Language and action 51
ethical root of 49
game 60
of assertion 60
of truth telling 53
learning, topic of 184
mastery, exercise of 173, 174
of applied set theory 244
of semanticist, translation into 244
of sets 247
possession, exercise of 178
use, cognitive aspect of 170
mechanical aspects 173
Lazari-Pawlowska, I 225
Legally loaded expression 55
Lem, S 295 296
Letters, truth-functional combination
of 33, 34
Level of formal or logical reasoning
199
Lewis, C I 14-16
Liberal solution 131, 132, 135
Lie as paradigm of bad action 68
as deceptions, objection to 53
Life, biological 75
reverence for 226, 227
spiritual 76
style, privacy of 139, 140
Limited retaliation, rule of 146
Linear ordering of practicabilities 216,
217
Linguistic ability, dilemma of 172,
173
practice of speaking truth 53
understanding 185
Lissowski, G 277, 287
Locus of meaning rules 169, 170
Logic, classical or intuitionist 200
deontic 33, 34, 47, 48
function of 118
imperative 81
modal 47
monadic predicate 38
of indicative 116
of practical evaluation 199, 200,
209
of theoretical judgement 209
principles of 200
propositional deontic 40
relations of 16
use of deontic 41
Logical classification, empirical
content of 74
of directly valuable objects 74
Logical coherence, achievement of 16
connection among norms 228
consequence, relation of 239
implication, paradox of 221, 222
impossibility, definition of 201
inconsistency, concept of 209
possibility, concept of 201
Logics, alternative 200
Luce, R D 147
Lying as assertion of a proposition 67
definition of 51
Mackie, 103
Major premise 122
Majority, Condorcet paradox of 280
Mally, E 35
Man, empirical character of 290
intelligible character of 290
Manichean existentialism 296
non-naturalism 301
Manifest character of understanding
175
Mann, T268

Mathematical method 163, 164
Matthew and Luke's Game 147-165
Maxim of conduct 13
Maximin strategy 152, 153
Maxims, code of 218, 219
conjunction of218
system of 202
Maximum payoff 156, 157, 160
McDowell, J 9,169,171
Meaning and value of proverbs 5
autonomy of 175
norms and objectivity 167
practice, conception of 184
rules, locus of 170
Mechanical aspects to language use
173
Mendelssohn 269
Metaethical stance, pluralism of 240
Metalanguage, semantical 242
Methodological character of concept
of axiom 239
Mill, J S 142,229
tyranny of custom 142
Milosz, C 291, 294, 296
Minor premise 121
Mistaken conscience, problem of 50
Mixed or random strategy 151-156,
158, 162
ambiguity of 152, 153
Modal logic 47
operators of necessity and pos-
sibility, negation and 38
Mode of expression 2
Model-theoretic approach 250
definition of truth 241, 242, 246
philosophical implications of 241
Modus tollendo tollens 121
Monadic predicate logic 38
Moods, semantics of 167
Moore, G E 18, 48, 79
paradox 59
Moral and ethical judgement 11
argument 110,114,117
311
attitude, practical attitude 212
belief9192
code, paternalistic 41
conflict, experience of 7 8
epistemology, problem of 12
evil 50
injunction 89
intuition 265
judgement 80,82-90, 94,96-129
inconsistent 7
interpersonal neutrality of 100
law, moral weight of 55
objection, personal distaste as
explanation of 139, 140
perplexity, source of 234
philosophy, consequence for 163
question, phenomenology of 8
responsibility 50
subjectivism 272
thinking, primary function of 84
weight of assertion 53, 65
of moral law 55
wrongness 70
Moralist prescription 227
Morality, alternative form of237, 239
antecedent 54
conception of 257
Morally-loaded conception 55, 56
Morals, ethics and 9
theory of 255
Motivation, theory of 273
function of basic norms 229, 230
Move-by-move strategy 158
Move, random 155
Multiple quantification 39
Mutual tolerance 137, 140, 142
advocacy of 138
exercise 135
making sense of 138
Nagel, E 290, 293
Names and predicables, distinction
between 35
312
Naturalism 79
doubt on 294
Naturalistic anthropology 290-302
axiology 292
fallacy 250
position 251, 252
reduction of human values 297
Nature, human 289
Need, value and 289
non-logical 19
Negation, modal operators of neces-
sity and possibility 38
definition of 208
of practical attitudes 204, 205
Negative value 21
set of 298, 299
Neutral proposition 200
Non-defective act of appreciation 72
Non-logical need 19
possibility, definition of 201
Non-naturalism 289
anthropology 290-302
axiology 292
tenet of 293
Non-symmetrical game 151, 157, 158,
161
Non-verbal accompaniment 180
Non-verification transcendence 187
Non-zero-sum game 146, 152, 162,
163
two-person 158
Nordenstem, T 232, 233
Normative assessment 264, 265
action-relevant 262
objectivity of 262
subjective disparity of 263
concept 177
consideration 179
distinctness of 185
constative comparison 268
discourse 270, 272
subjectivity of 269
ethics, conception of 228
item 259
question 167
rule 267
Norms, harmonization of 228
logical connection among 228
systematization of 228
Notion of fitting the world 10
Numinous attitudes 76
Object of direct appreciation 74
of judgement 171
of value 21
Objection to cognitivism 182
to lies as deceptions 53
Objective fact 259-261
assumption of 258
moral points, subjective apprecia-
tion of 255-274
normative standard 257 258
standard, imposing an 263
value 263, 290
Objectivism, thoroughgoing 259
Objectivity and subjectivity of
understanding 188
meaning-norms and 167
of ethics, ideas of 7
of general assessment 267
of normative assessment 262
Objects, positively appreciated 76
vitally valuable 76
Observance, religious 138, 140
Observation of utterance-meaning 184
One-place predicate 242, 247
Ontology, set-theoretic 242, 244
Opening strategy 164
Operator, deontic 35, 36
predicable-forming 38
propositional 45
tense-logic 34
Optimality, postulate of 283
Ordinary implication 102
moral consciousness, deliverance of
6

non-contextual implication 103
propositional argument 117
Others, relations to 75
Paraconsistent logicians, school of 3
Paradigm, application of 68
Paradox of logical implication 221,
222
Pareto optimality 283
Partial coordination 159
Paternalistic moral code 41
Pattern of coordinated response 152
Pattern of serial response 152
Payoff 148, 150, 151, 155, 157, 162,
163, 164
maximum 157, 160
top 158, 159, 163
Peirce, C S 11-16
Perception of autonomous values 300
Perceptual aspect, cognitive-cum 175
judgement of saying 183
of significance 174, 185
recognition of speech-act 183
Personal crusade 138-140
distaste as explanation of moral
objection 139, 140
Personality, axiological 293, 301
Phenomenology of moral question 8
Philosophical anthropology 289-302
belief system 18
implications of model-theoretic
definition of truth 241
Plain man, conviction of the 6
Planning and reaction span 151, 152
Plato 15, 17,301
requirement of harmonia 10
Pluralism of meta-ethical stance 240
Polonius 213, 214
Popper, K R 236
Position, naturalistic 251, 252
Positive and negative value, concept
of21,22
value, property generative of 22-30
313
set of 298
Positively appreciated objects 76
Possession, individual 77
Postulate of criticism, incompatibility
with 238
of equal chances of satisfaction
282-288
of equal chances of choice 283-288
of fairness 276
of humanism 237
of optimality 283
Practicabilities, ascertainment of
202-223
class of 215-220
evaluation of 199, 202
linear ordering of 216, 217
system of 21S-220
variety of 21S-220
Practical anti-attitude 202-223
attitude, conjunction of 204,205
consideration of 202
dominated 210
first level 203-223
indifference 202-223
moral attitude 212
negation of 204, 205
second level 203-223
stratification of 200, 205,
209-223
third and higher level 208-223
conception of judgement 175, 176
evaluation 200
formal system of 220-223
logic of 199, 200, 209
structure of 218
implication 204
definition of 208, 221
inconsistency 95, 203
concept of 209
definition of 208, 209, 221
indifference, definition of 204
pro-attitude 202-223
Practice of assertion 58
314
rule-governed 167-169. 171. 174.
182.185
Predicable 36-40. 43. 44
fonning operator 38
Predicate. classificatory 249
comparative 249
empirical 251
ethical 247-252
interpretation of 244-248
one-place 242-247
role 33
vague descriptive 247248
Preference ordering. profile of
276-288
relation of 276
subjective 273
Preferential and deontic systems
215-220
stratification of 217
Premise. disjunctive major 121
major 122
minor 121
Prescription 80. 127
moralist 227
Primary function of moral thinking 84
Principle of bivalence 103-106
offollowing conscience 132. 134
of logic 200
of transcendence and foundation of
axiology 71
universalisation 94. 96
verification 79
Prior 35
Prisoner's Dilemma 147-165
Privacy of life-style 139, 140
Private language, rules of 168
Pro-attitude, practical202-223
Problem of concept-acquisition 184
of mistaken conscience 50
of moral epistemology 12
of qualification 275
Process of deducing norms 234
Profile of preference ordering
276-288
Proof, apodeictic 86
Properties of self 75
generative of positive value 22-30
value-generating 21-30
Proposals, conflicting 12
decent 164
Proposition 61, 62
and assertion, distinction between
57
asserting 58. 80, 88
inconsistent 95
atomic 122
classical calculus of 106. 107
disjunctive 122
false 52, 58. 64
fonning operator 34
inconsistent 202, 203
lying as assertion of a 67
neutral 200
species of 86
true 52
unasserted 105, 118
Propositional argument 34
attitude 87
calculus 116
content 171, 179
deontic logic 40
operator 38, 45
deontic 35
Propriety of intolerance 138
Proverbs, meaning and value of 5
Provisional assumptions, value
judgements and norms as 237
Prudential attitude 214
Przelecki, M 241
Psychological integration and
stability, achievement of 16
Punishing strategy 157
Pure strategy 153. 155. 158
response to random strategy with
155
Pursuit of truth 61

Putative objective value 270
Pythagoras 137
Qualification of expression 241
problem of 275
Quantification, multiple 39
Question, normative 167
Quine, W V 0 39
Raiffa, H 147
Random move 155
strategy 155-158
Rational convergence 17
Rationality, ideas of 50
Rationally constraining process,
causal character of 9
Recursive definition 242
Reductionist expectation 182
Redundancy and inconsistency of
imperatives 120
of indicatives 120
Reflection as species of controlled
conduct 16
Reichenbach, H 225
Relation between language and action
51
of evaluative logic 220
of indifference 276
oflogic 16
of logical consequence 239
of preference 276
spiritually valuable 78
to extra-human things 75
to others 75
to the world 75
vitally valuable 78
Relative notion of truth 243
Religious observance 138, 140
Requirement on phenomena, imposi-
tion of 14
Response, pattern of coordinated 152
pattern of serial 152
to random strategy with pure
315
strategy 155
Responsibility, moral 50
Reverence for life 226, 227
Revisionary enquiry, critical 237
Rightness of human conduct, standard
of 65
Role, predicate 33-35, 39
subject 33
Ross, A 228, 229
Ross, WD230
Rousseau, J-J 300
Rule, action-directive 265, 266
distribution 281-288
governed behaviour 170
judgemental practice 176-178
practice 167-169, 171, 174, 182,
185
limited retaliation 146
locus of 169
normative 267
of correctness 178
of deontic logic 116
of private language 168
Satisfactoriness 115, 116
Saying, content of 186, 187
vehicle of 171
perceptual judgement of 183
Scepticism, thoroughgoing 260
School of paraconsistent logicians 3
Schrade, U 292
Schweizer, A 226,227
Science, exact language of 72
Second level, practical attitude of
203-223
Selection of assertoric utterance 169
Self, false belief in 49
properties of75
Self-contradiction 2
Semantical metalanguage 242
Semantics of moods 167
Sen, A 206
Sense, common 6
316

of equality 77 ethical 248, 251

Sentence, atomic 242 value 241
Set, language of 247 Stenius, E 167
of negative values 298, 299 Strategy 149, lSI, 152, 154
of positive values 298 coordinated 163
Set-theoretic concept 242 maximin 152, 153
entities 247 maximum payoff 156
equality 74 mixed 152-156, 158, 162
ontology 242, 244 or random lSI
Shakespeare, W 268 move-by-move 158
Shaping and constraining by ethical opening 164
and moral teaching 9 punishing 157
Significance, judgement of 174, 181, pure 153, ISS, 158
185, 186, 193, 196 random 155--158
Social acceptance value 270 tit-for-tat ISO, 151
Socrates IS, 17, 119, 120,300 Stratification of practical attitudes
Solution, conciliatory 146 200,205,209-223
liberal 131, 132 of preferential systems 217
Source of moral perplexity 234 Structure of practical evaluation 218
Span, planning and reaction lSI, 152 Subject role 33
Speaking truth, linguistic practice of Subjective appreciation of objective
53 moral points 255--274
Species of controlled conduct 13 assessment 259
of imperative 80, 103, 106 disparity of normative assessment
of proposition 86 263
Speech act identification, concept of perception, assumption of 258
167 preference 273
judgement 183 Subjectivism, moral 272
perceptual recognition of 183 thoroughgoing 259
significance, category of 179 Subjectivist-objectivist dualism 274
and other human activity, difference Subjectivity of normative discourse
between 68 269
content of 63 Super-truth theory 246
Spencer, H 292 Symmetrical game ISO, 156, 157, 158,
Spiritual life 76 161
Spiritually valuable relation 78 view 84
Srzednicki, J 255 System of maxims 202
Standard, objective normative 257, System, practicability 215-220
258 Systematization of norms 228
of correctness 179 Szaniawski, K 275, 277, 282, 283
of rightness of human conduct 65
Standpoint, intuitionistic 251, 252 Tarski 241
Statement, descriptive 241 definition of truth in its model-
 317

theoretic version 241 Translation into language of seman-

Tautology. trivial 39 ticist 244
Tenet of non-naturalism 293 Trivial tautology 39
Tense-logic. operator of 34 True or false statement. qualification
Theorem. ethical 71 of expression as 241
impossibility 280 proposition 52
of Arrow 280 assertion of 69
Theoretical and practical necessity, Truth, absolute notion of 243
analogy between 199 analogue of 113,114, 117
and practical reasoning, ditch and falsehood, value difference
between 13 between 57
frame of axiology 72 condition 169, 172, 186, 188,243
inconsistency 95, 204 of judgement of significance 191
judgement 199,200,202-223 functional 43, 44
and practical evaluation, combination of leners 33, 34
comparison of 200 in action 49
logic of 209 model-theoretic definition of 241,
Theory. extremes 25 242
exclusion 25 of ethical statement 250
imperative 90 of judgement of significance 189
lack 25 pursuit of 61
of bad actions being false assertions relative notion of 243
50 telling, language-game of 53
of morals 255 value of ethical statements 241-253
of motivation 273 Truthfulness, extension of concept of
super-truth 246 68
Third and higher level practical Tucker, A W 147
ani tudes 208-223 Turning a blind eye 136
Thomist tenet 300 Two-person game, non-zero-sum 158
Thoroughgoing objectivism 259
scepticism 260 Unasserted proposition 105, 118
subjectivism 259 Understanding, cognitive aspect of
Thought, consistency of 15 171
Time-indicating expression 34 common 6
Tit-for-tat strategy 150, 151, 161 manifest character of 175
Tolerance, mutual 137, 140 objectivity and subjectivity of 188
Tolerating injustice 134, 135 relation between ethics and science
Toleration, mutual 142 8
virtue or vice 142 Undisguised imperative 128
Tolkien, J R R 269 Universal imperative 100
Top payoff 158, 159, 163 Universalisable imperative 94
Topic oflanguage-Iearning 184 Universalisation principle 94, 96
Transcendence, non-verification 187 Universe of discourse 298
318
Use of deontic logic 41
Usefulness of deductive model in
ethics 231
Utilitarian value 292, 301
Utility, comparison of 287
interpersonal comparison of 277
value 295
Utterance, assertoric 171 172
Utterance-meaning, judgement of 188
observation of 184
significance, judgement of 178, 194
uptake, view of 175
Vague descriptive predicate 247, 248
intended interpretation of 245
Vagueness, first-order 245
of basic norms 231-233
of empirical predicate 244, 245
of ethical predicates 248, 249
Value, autonomous 292-294, 298
conflict 7
counter 297
difference between truth and
falsehood 57
generating property 2 I -30
generic concept of 29
judgements and norms as
provisional assumptions 237
laden concept 56, 65, 67
needs and 287
negative 21
object of21
objective 263, 290
putative 270
social acceptance 270
statement 241
system, indisputable ideal for 7
utilitarian 292, 295, 301
vital and spiritual 76 77
Variety of practicabilities 215-220
Vehicle of saying-content 171
Verbal assertion 60
Verification principle 79
View of utterance-uptake 175
symmetrical 84
Virtue or vice, toleration 142
Vital and spiritual values 76
Vitally valuable objects 76
Vitally valuable relation 78
Von Wright, G H 33-35, 39
White, R 296
Whitman, WI, 6
Will, disposition of 69
Williams, B 6-19
Winning against and with the
opponent 145
Wittgenstein, L 3, 9, 14, 17, 53, 57,
58,168,169,171,174,299
Wollaston 53
philosophy 53, 54
Wolniewicz, B 289
World, deontically perfect 45-48
relations to the 75
Wrongness, moral 70
of false assertion 66
Zero-sum game 146, 147, 152, 162
Znamierowski, Cz 227
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