Is it paradoxical to ask what existence is without already knowing the meaning of the term "is"? A statement such as "there is a crate of oranges in front of me" seems like a statement about the "existence of oranges." But at the same time what does it mean to say that the "crate of oranges" exists? Existence seems like the most intuitive and indubitable metaphysical pronouncement and yet at the same time it evades clear definition. I suppose you can say "the orange crate exists because you can pick an orange up or it exists because you can observe it." But it seem like their is something more to saying something exists than that, but I can't put my finger on it.

Yes, we do think that things exist which we cannot pick up or see. (For instance, we say that numbers exist, or that the center of mass of the solar system does.) What precisely do we mean by "exists" then? That's one problem you raise. I'm not sure how to answer it: the notion of "existence" seems so basic, it's hard to imagine much light being shed on it from other, yet clearer, notions. But you raise another question: whether there's something problematic in even asking what "exists" means. Your thought is that there is, since the question itself involves the notion of existence. I'm not sure that it does: In asking for clarification of a notion, we're not asking whether that notion exists (whatever that means). You might say that we're asking what "exists" means. And although it's not clear exactly what we're doing when we ask what a word means, it doesn't seem right to say that we're asking whether something exists. Of course, your paradox could perhaps be reinstated by shifting our...

There is a general consensus that words are merely made up of arbitrary symbols and are thus themselves arbitrary symbols. I agree with the principle of this (the letter 's' is just a squiggly line...). But I have always held that words are "things" and not just symbols or shadows of thoughts. I suppose words simultaneously can be things and symbols just like any other material object--in fact this is partially why I argue that words are things. I can't fully articulate why I feel that words are things, and it seems reductive to merely designate words as the product of a complex system of signs and symbols which we all agree to. Are there any philosophical works (as opposed to linguistic) that examine this subject at length? Thank You.

Words are made up of arbitrary symbols, letters. I don't see that that threatens the "thingness" of words. We can construct things out of any arbitrarily chosen objects, can't we? The difficult word here, I think, is rather "thing". What qualifies something to be an object? Many people find themselves confident that the Empire State Building is an object, but far less confident that there might be non-physical things, like the number of floors in the Empire State Building - is 102 a thing? - or like the name "the Empire State Building". While the Empire State Building is located in Manhattan, its name is not located anywhere: it's an abstract entity. I wonder whether this is what's behind your concern about whether words are things. On the other hand, you also feel the strong pressures to take words to be things: we can name them after all, we can talk about them - and how can we talk about anything that isn't really a thing!? All this relates to big questions in metaphysics about what an object...

My question concerns the 20th Century doctrine of "logical postivism" and its apparent refutation. Its distinction between analytic and synthetic statements seems to me straight forward and an important one. Wittgenstein's quote seems appropriate: "On what cannot be spoken of one must remain silent." I understand that logical positivism has been successfully refuted by Quine and others. I cannot grasp that refutation. One of those arguments seems to be the "indeterminacy of translation"); an argument I understand and accept. I also understand that ALL language has different connotations to different people. However, it seems impossible to make an understandable "synthetic" statement about metaphysics. That is, if we cannot verify the existence of something empirically, such as a concept (God, for instance), we cannot come to any agreement about it. In other words what I find valuable about logical positivism, as a materialist, is that metaphysics is simply speculation and cannot be...

Yes, many of the logical positivists drew a sharp line between analytic truths and synthetic ones, respectively, those that owe their truth merely to the rules of language that determine meaning and those that also owe their truth to how the world is. The distinction seems to turn on acknowledging that sentences have determinate meanings in the first place - in some cases, those meanings settle the truth of the sentence (the analytic ones) and in other cases they do not (the synthetic ones). Quine's thesis of the indeterminacy of translation claims that sentences do not have such determinate meanings: in addition to facts like how many moons the Earth has, there are no facts about what some string of words means. (This can sound outrageous and much care needs to be taken about the thesis being advanced and the reasons for it - no time for that here!) And so the thesis of indeterminacy rejects a presupposition of the distinction between analytic and synthetic truths. You say there's clearly...

I have recently stumbled upon a short book written by the Catholic theologian named Peter Kreeft. He deductively argued for Jesus’ divinity through an approach he summarized as “Aut deus aut homo malus.” (Either God or a Bad Man.) Basically, his argument works only on the assumption made by most historians. Jesus was a teacher, he claimed divinity, and was executed. So, assuming this is true he says Jesus must’ve been one of three things. One possibility is that he was a liar. He said he was divine even though he knew it was not true. Another possibility is that he was insane. He believed he was divine even though he wasn’t. The final possibility is that he was telling the truth and he was correct. He was divine. He goes through and points out that Jesus shows no symptoms of insanity. He had no motive for lying. In fact, he was executed because of his claims. That gives him a motive to deny his divinity, which he apparently was given a chance to do by according to the Jewish and Roman sources on the...

I don't find this argument persuasive - for what it's worth, versions of it have been given for centuries. History and common experience present us with many individuals who function well in many circumstances despite the fact that they have delusions of divine (or other) grandeur. Usually such individuals suffer greatly in all kinds of ways on account of their delusions. We do not take this suffering to speak to the correctness of their perceptions but rather to the psychically entrenched nature of their delusions. I do not see in any of the alleged facts about Jesus that you point to any reason for not counting him to be one such individual. In some everyday sense of "plausible," it seems much more plausible to think, on the basis of the evidence you have put forward, that he was delusional than to think that he was divine. So what I would take issue with is the claim that according to "the historical information ... [Jesus] showed no signs of insanity." He did: he claimed to be capable of...

Is it possible to prove that something cannot be derived (considering only well-formed-formulas) in a natural derivation system? I mean a premise P cannot yield the conclusion Q since there isn't any logical rule that justifies the inference but how can someone prove this?

One way to show this would be (1) to prove that the derivation system is sound (that is, if Q can be derived from P in the system, then the inference from P to Q is a valid one); and (2) to show that the inference from P to Q is not valid.

A famous philosopher is coming to visit my university. Would it be inappropriate to ask for his autograph?

Well, a book would be a natural thing to ask someone to sign. But it needn't be that (without being ridiculous): I don't think he would take it amiss if you asked him to sign an article he's written. Or perhaps even simply a small blank card. (Many autograph collections consist of such signed cards.) And I don't think you have to worry about being unobtrusive or to wait for an informal reception: I can see nothing wrong with approaching the individual after his talk and politely requesting an autograph.

A long time ago - Jan 2006 if I'm not mistaken - Alan Soble wrote (http://www.askphilosophers.org/question/875): "Finally, the heart and soul of philosophy is argument, providing reasons for claims, including claims about morality and duties. In the answer to the question above, I cannot find a shred of argument. We should also avoid, that is, pastoral or friendly counseling. Without rigor, philosophy is nothing." That was back in the days when there was routinely more than 1 response to a question. Today's responses seem more and more to be becoming "pastoral or friendly counseling" without rigor. The panelists do not argue with each other - the responses are just accepted. Here's an example: Peter Smith wrote very recently (http://www.askphilosophers.org/question/2823): "For irrationally formed beliefs are not likely to lead to actions which get any of us what we want -- including a decent life, lived well in the knowledge of our all-too-explicable mortality." This statement - simply put out...

Your comment on Peter Smith's claim, "utterly preposterous," doesn't sound like rigorous argument to me, but more like contemptuous dismissal. I'm glad panelists aren't displaying more of your style of rigor! The consideration you do offer seems to misunderstand Smith's claim. What you quote him as saying is that if our actions are guided by beliefs that have been irrationally formed, it's likely that those actions will not promote our ends. I can see why he says this: if you think (1) that irrationally formed beliefs are as likely as not to be false and (2) that actions guided by false beliefs are not likely to get us what we want, his claim follows. Your observation – that we sometimes take pleasure in beliefs even if they have been irrationally arrived at – seems correct but beside the point: it speaks neither to the truth of (1) nor to that of (2).

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