This is my first entry for this journal, which is to be a collection of my thoughts and responses to issues in the Philosophy of Language as I encounter them.
This entry is an excerpt from a short essay for class.
Quine commented, in
Two Dogmas of Empiricism, that "for my part I do, qua lay physicist, believe in physical objects and not in Homer's gods; and I consider it a scientific error to believe otherwise. But in point of epistemological footing the physical objects and the gods differ only in degree and not in kind."
I find this quote from Quine compelling because it really sums up his points about language and science in an eloquent fashion. Many people don't understand it and become furious because he is comparing something like Homer's gods to Science. I find his comparison is compelling, if you're willing to look at it closely, slowly and with an open mind for his end-goals.
One major point here is his re conception of our notion of language, more specifically the act of naming. Most people think that a word refers to the thing it names. It is precisely this conception of language that gives rise to conceptions of magical realms inhavited by the "form of x". The notion of meaning as referent is simply not rich enough to encompass everything we call language. This re conception is not unique to Quine; Frege, Russell and Wittgenstein all gave us this same lesson, Wittgenstein most completely.
Quine discusses a problem that stems from this he calls "inscrutability of reference" which basically can be summed up in the point that it is impossible to tell whether an object you refer to with a word is the same object that I refer to with that word. When I say "rabbit" am I referring to the thing that is hopping about in front of us or am I referring, to use Quine's example, to "undetached rabbit-parts"? The answer is there is no way to know, as long as when I use the word "rabbit" you provide the response for which I am looking.
Here is an important juncture, leave the discussion here and you will miss the point, as so many before have. Quine's point is not that we should all be skeptics and we should just question whether anyone understands us, his point is that there is a certain amount of ambiguity in our use of language. Quine says that "reference is inscrutable". The interesting thing about this point is that despite this we manage to use language every day for everything we do and we use it to a marvelous success! Surely Quine's point is not that since we cannot know the absolute fact of the matter that it is a pointless waste of time to bother at all. Quine seems simply to be drawing our attention to the bounds of our language, much as Wittgenstein did. Quine seems preoccupied with what can be said or, as Wittgenstein calls it in the Tractatus, "the limits of our language"
So we turn back to our quote, specifically to the part where Quine compares the conceptions of science to the conceptions of Homer's gods. His point is that epistemologically they are no different and I think he is right about that. People ask me if I believe that electrons exist and my answer is always "does it matter?" So long as our conception of electrons aides us in controlling and predicting I fail to see whether it matters if they
really exist. Conceptions of what
really exist seem wrong-headed to me. Science is in the business of explaining and controlling. As long as the things they postulate allows us to explain and control whether they really exist is pointless conjecture in my book. I'll never "see" an electron which, in my view, is the only way to ever
know if something really exists. I refer you to G. E. Moore's famous response to Skepticism: "I know that I have a hand."
If you want to be such a hard core skeptic about things that you'll deny what is in front of your eyes I have very little in the way to discuss with you. If you want to ask me questions like "Do electrons exist?" I'm going to be baffled. Sure we can play the language game of philosophy and ask do Electrons really exist, but we won't be any further towards an answer when we're done.
The same can be said about Homer's gods. Does Zeus really exist? my response: "Come again?" There is truly no point in these questions, epistemologically. We'll never know if there was or wasn't a Zeus. Does this mean that I'm a hard core skeptic? No, if you think that you've sorely misunderstood both Quine's quote and my picture of the world.
It is not accurate to talk about the existence of electrons, quarks, or Z particles. It is not accurate to ask whether Zeus, Hera or Ares exist. These are constructs that were/are used to explain phenomena. They are only as useful as how well or poorly they explain phenomena. We, as a society, embrace science because we feel it more accurately portrays the world. The real reason we embrace science, in my estimation, is because it is highly predictive. We can turn that predictive nature of science into many wondrous things. Zeus does not give us computers, automobiles or blogs. Science does, largely because of its self-correcting nature and its atheistic attitude towards the universe. (Regardless of a supreme being's existence, it cannot be part of the scientific system- but that is another debate entirely) Because science does not postulate a being with free will that can do as it pleases with the universe it has a much easier time in finding patterns and regularities. In ancient Greece if your boat sank and you asked why I'd tell you to make a sacrifice to Poseidon. If another boat sank I'd tell you that you didn't sacrifice a big enough goat.
Along this avenue a woman I was having a conversation with once asked me how I know that when she sees red that she is seeing the same thing as I am.
My response: "It doesn't matter, so long as when I ask for the red shirt you bring me the shirt I desire."