Descriptivism
Distilled
Kent Bach
Proper
names may be simple on the surface, but they raise some deep questions, about
singular thought as well as singular reference. How can a mere name connect us
to something in the world? How can using a mere name direct someone else’s
attention to something, seemingly without conveying any information about it?
The very idea of singular thought suggests that when we attribute a property to
a certain object, we are thinking of that object in particular rather than “under
a description,” as merely the unique thing of a certain sort. We can do this
not just with individuals we are currently perceiving or have previously
perceived but even with ones we have learned of and know of only by name.
However this is possible, it seems that having a name for something helps us
maintain a mental record of it, a record which can be called up and consulted,
and added to or corrected in light of new information. Indeed, an individual
can come to mind just by virtue of its name occurring to us—think ‘Mongolia’
and you think of Mongolia. As for singular reference, the name of something is
generally the linguistic device best suited for calling it to others’ minds, at
least if they know of it by name (using a name for something unfamiliar to them
serves to introduce them to that individual). Similarly, others can call our
attention to something (or introduce us to it) just by using its name.
So calling things to mind seems to be
what names are for, in both thought and communication. Mill recognized this
when he wrote, “a proper name is but an unmeaning mark which we connect in our
minds with the idea of the object, in order that whenever the mark meets our
eyes or occurs to our thoughts, we may think of that individual object” (1872,
22). The function of proper names, Mill thought, is not to convey general
information but rather “to enable individuals to be made the subject of
discourse;” names are “attached to the objects themselves, and are not
dependent on … any attribute of the object” (1872, 20). In this way, our use of
names can accommodate such pervasive facts as that things can change over time,
that one’s conception of something can change over time, and that different
people’s conceptions of the same thing can differ. All this is possible if
using a name in thinking of or referring to an object is not a matter of
representing it as having certain properties but, as Russell said, “merely to
indicate what we are speaking about; [the name] is no part of the fact asserted
… : it is merely part of the symbolism by which we express our thought” (1919,
175).
No wonder, then, that descriptivism has
seemed implausible. Its motivation is understandable enough—to explain how
names can play their roles even when they lack bearers—but, in both Frege’s and
Russell’s formulations, descriptivism seems unable to do justice to the above
observations. Frege held that a proper name (like any other sort of expression)
has a reference-determining sense, which imposes a condition that an individual
must satisfy in order to qualify as the name’s referent. However, his sense-descriptivism,
as we will call it, is subject to the familiar objections made by Donnellan
(1970) and Kripke (1980): there no unique such descriptive condition associated
with a given name (even taking just one of its bearers into account, if it has
more than one), and the name’s reference is not subject to counterfactual
variation in the way descriptivism predicts. As for Russell’s view, it seems as
implausible as Frege’s, even though it denies that names have senses. It claims
instead that names (“ordinary” names, anyway) are “abbreviated” or “disguised”
definite descriptions, but this abbreviational descriptivism defy
semantic appearances. And, when combined with Russell’s notorious theory of
descriptions, according to which singular definite descriptions are not
singular terms but complex quantificational phrases, it defies syntactic
appearances. But appearances can be deceiving.
That is why Jerrold Katz asks, “Has the
description theory of names been refuted?” (the title of Katz 1990). He thinks
not. Although his defense of descriptivism is intricate, his basic rationale
for it is Russell’s simple point (1918, 242) that if the sole semantic role of
names were to denote their bearers, as on Mill's view, then vacuous names would
be meaningless. In “Names without Bearers,” Katz points out that vacuous names
are perfectly meaningful and that sentences in which they occur can express
propositions. This explains why sentences like ‘Santa Claus does not exist,’
which is not only meaningful but true, “receive neither a raised eyebrow from
the ordinary speaker nor an asterisk from the linguist” (Katz 1994, 1). Katz
acknowledges the familiar difficulties with the usual versions of
descriptivism, but his version, which he sees as striking a middle ground
between “Fregeanism” and “Millianism,” is metalinguistic: a proper name is
semantically equivalent to a definite description that mentions it. This sounds
like a version of abbreviational descriptivism à la Russell, but in fact Katz
holds that proper names have senses. His view is not fully Fregean, though, in
that Katz’s senses do not determine reference—they merely delimit it.
Metalinguistic descriptivism was first
suggested by Russell, if only in passing (1919, 174), and it has occasionally
been advocated since. Like Katz, I find it far more plausible than its
reputation would suggest, at least when it is carefully stated and properly
qualified. It can explain or at least accommodate certain phenomena that other
theories cannot, and, by adverting not to identifying properties but only to
the “purely nominal bearer relation” (Katz 1994, 7), it is not vulnerable to
the usual objections to description theories. Also, I agree with Katz that its
plausibility depends on enforcing the distinction between “features of
language” and “features of language use” (1994, 19). Beyond that, however,
Katz’s defense of metalinguistic descriptivism is problematic in a number of
ways. For one thing, in billing his account as the alternative to Frege’s and
Mill’s views, Katz fails to distinguish Russell's brand of descriptivism from
Frege's and modern direct-reference theories from Mill’s. Also, when
contrasting his own notion of sense with Frege’s, he falls prey to the common
misconception that Frege’s notion belongs to the theory of linguistic meaning
rather than to the theory of thought. Separating the two is important, as we
will see, because descriptivism at the level of language (Russellian or
Fregean) does not commit one to descriptivism at the level of thought. Keeping
the two levels separate is crucial to the defense of metalinguistic
descriptivism.
As for its precise formulation, I agree
with Katz on the importance of invoking only the nominal bearer relation but disagree
with him on how to do this, as to both wording and framework. On his view,
which he dubs the “pure metalinguistic theory” (PMT), a proper name ‘N’ has the
sense of ‘the thing which is a bearer of “N”.’ I prefer what I call the
“nominal description theory” (NDT), with its simpler schema, ‘the bearer of
“N”.’ It too invokes the nominal bearer relation but not the notion of sense. I
will argue that PMT is needlessly complex and that the notion of sense does not
do the job for which Katz enlists it. NDT provides a much simpler and cleaner
way of explaining how a name with many bearers can be used to refer to one of
its bearers in particular. By exploiting the distinction between features of
language and features of language use, we can assimilate the case of names with
many bearers to the case of incomplete definite descriptions. The resulting
pragmatic account picks up the semantic slack left by the meaning of the
incomplete definite description with which, according to NDT, a name with many
bearers is semantically equivalent. Just as an incomplete description like ‘the
table,’ even though it implies uniqueness, can be used to refer to a particular
table, so a shared name like ‘Steve Jones,’ (equivalent to ‘the bearer of
“Steve Jones”,’ can be used to refer to a particular bearer of the name. We can
make sense of this fact by distinguishing the linguistic meaning of a sentence
containing the name, the thought in the mind of the speaker, and what is
communicated by the utterance of the sentence.
Descriptivism is defensible, I believe,
if its scope, form, and content are properly delimited. It should be understood
as (1) a thesis about a name’s contribution to sentential meanings, not to
thought contents, as (2) claiming not that names have senses but that they are
semantically equivalent to definite descriptions, and as (3) taking these to be
metalinguistic descriptions of the form ‘the bearer of “N”.’ This version of
descriptivism avoids the problems that confront the direct-reference view of
names, while doing justice to the intuitions that support that view. It also
explains the fact, acknowledged even by Mill, that when we refer to persons or
things by name, we do not convey “any information about them, except that
those are their names” (1872, 22; my italics). It does this, as we will
see, in a way that is compatible with the fact that sentences containing proper
names are ordinarily used to communicate singular propositions.
1.
Abbreviational vs. Sense-Descriptivism
Katz’s
failure to distinguish abbreviational from sense-descriptivism makes his
version of metalinguistic descriptivism less pure than he thinks it is. He
defines descriptivism as the thesis that “proper names have a sense and that
their sense is somehow necessary to fixing their reference” (1990, 33). This
definition may be neutral between different conceptions of sense, including
Frege’s and Katz’s, but sense however construed is a level of semantic
significance along with reference. So even though Katz claims to be defining
description theories “in the broadest possible way consistent with how they are
generally understood in philosophy” (1990, 33), his definition does not even
encompass the theory due to that arch-descriptivist Russell, who repudiated
two-tiered semantics altogether. Russell held that ordinary proper names are
abbreviated definite descriptions, but he denied that definite descriptions (or
expressions of any other sort) have two levels of semantic significance. This
was the central point of “On Denoting.”[1]
For Russell, what distinguishes both
definite descriptions and ordinary proper names from genuine, “logically”
proper names, like the individual constants of logic, is not that they do have
senses but that they do not have references, at least not as semantic values.
That is, semantically they are not referring expressions but quantificational
phrases. We should not be misled by Russell’s characterization of descriptions
as “denoting complexes”—they generally do have denotations—because for Russell
denotation is a semantically inert property. That is, the proposition expressed
by a sentence in which a description occurs is the same whether the description
has a denotation or not. So its denotation does not enter into that
proposition.[2] As
Russell explains,
The actual
object (if any) which is the denotation is not …a constituent of propositions
in which descriptions occur;[3] and this
is the reason why, in order to understand such propositions, we need
acquaintance with the constituents of the description, but do not need acquaintance
with its denotation.[4] (1917,
222)
Thus, for
any sentence containing a definite description, grammatical form is misleading
as to logical form. According to Russell’s famous theory of descriptions, a
simple subject-predicate sentence of the form ‘The F is G’ does not express a
singular proposition, of the subject-predicate form ‘a is G,’ but a general
proposition, specifically what I will call a ‘uniqueness proposition,’ whose
quantificational structure is revealed only after the definite description is
“broken up,” to yield (in modern notation) the form ‘($x)(("y)(Fy º y=x) &
Gx),’ in which the description, not being a semantic unit, does not even
appear.[5]
Similarly, the bearer of a name does not enter into the proposition expressed
by a sentence in which the name occurs. This is not because (ordinary) proper
names have senses but because, for Russell, they are disguised definite
descriptions. Russell’s descriptivism is abbreviational.
Frege is a descriptivist of a different
kind. His view is not that every proper name is equivalent to some definite
description but that expressions of both kinds are of the same semantic genus,
which he calls “Eigennamen” (literally translated as ‘proper names’ but
better paraphrased as ‘singular terms’). Unlike Russell, Frege does not
assimilate definite descriptions to quantificational phrases but treats them,
like proper names (properly so-called), as semantic units capable of having
individuals as semantic values, as determined by their senses. The sense of
such an expression plays the semantic role of imposing a condition that an
individual must satisfy in order to be the referent. A proper name, like a
definite description, contributes its sense to that of a sentence in which it
occurs regardless of which individual it belongs to and even if it has no
reference. This is because the condition imposed by sense, the determinant of
reference, is independent of that which it determines. So, for example, “the
thought remains the same whether ‘Odysseus’ has reference or not”[6] (Frege
1892, 63).
Thus neither Frege’s sense-descriptivism
nor Russell’s abbreviational descriptivism is susceptible, as Mill’s view is,
to the problem of names without bearers. On both views, a proper name can play
its semantic role whether or not it belongs to anything. This is so for
different reasons, of course. For Russell, the reason is the semantic inertness
of denotation, whereas for Frege it is the independence of sense from
reference.
Having a sense does not entail being
equivalent to a definite description and being equivalent to a definite description
does not entail having a sense—the two kinds of descriptivism are logically
independent. Yet it might seem that sense-descriptivism entails the
abbreviational kind, especially considering that Frege often illustrates senses
of proper names by means of definite descriptions. In fact, however, Frege’s
conception of sense does not entail that every proper name has the sense of
some definite description, or that the sense of every proper name is an
individual concept expressible by some definite description. His conception of
sense leaves open the possibility of non-descriptive senses, such as percepts.
In this regard, it would seem that thinking of an object by means of a percept,
as one does when visually attending to it, is not equivalent to thinking of it
under a description of the form ‘the thing that looks thus-and-so.’[7] One might
verbally express a thought about an object one is looking at by saying
something of the form, ‘the thing that looks thus-and-so is …,’ but, as Frege
says in connection with indexical thoughts generally, “the mere wording ...
does not suffice for the expression of the thought” (1918, 24). He does not
explicitly make the analogous point in regard to proper names, but nowhere does
he explicitly assert that each proper name is equivalent to some definite
description, and his overall theory of sense and reference does not require
this equivalence.
Although abbreviational and
sense-descriptivism are logically independent, it is common to equate the two,
and Katz is not the only one who does. Kripke, for example, alludes to “the
Frege-Russell view” or “the theory of Frege and Russell” (1980, 53 and 60) as
if both held the same view, and he seems to equate a name’s having a sense with
its being synonymous with a description (1990, 58-59). However, the distinction
between the two kinds of descriptivism should be maintained, and one should not
assume that valid objections to one apply to the other as well. For the same
reason, a distinction should be drawn between descriptivism at the level of
language and descriptivism at the level of thought.
2.
Semantic vs. Epistemological Descriptivism
When Katz
initially characterizes Millianism as the view “that names have no sense (linguistic
meaning)” (1994, 1; my italics), it is clear not only that he is
contrasting it with sense-descriptivism but that, in equating sense with
linguistic meaning, he is concerned with descriptivism at the level of
language. Accordingly, we ought to distinguish this semantic level of
descriptivism from descriptivism at the level of thought (epistemological
descriptivism). Neither entails the other.
It cannot be denied that Frege and
Russell, in their respective ways, are descriptivists at both levels. For
Frege, the sense of an expression is that “wherein the mode of presentation is
contained” (1892, 57). The same object can be presented in different modes
(ways). Russell disallows this: objects that can be presented at all cannot be
presented in different ways. Russell’s restrictive notion of acquaintance is a
“direct cognitive relation” and, indeed, is “simply the converse of the
relation of object and subject which constitutes presentation” (1917, 202).
Notoriously, Russell disqualifies public objects as objects of acquaintance,
but this is the price he is willing to pay to get around Frege’s problem of
identity statements and to avoid Frege’s solution based on senses. The notion
of sense, as the determinant of reference, has no place in Russell’s theory of
language or thought. Constituents of propositions are individuals (particulars
and universals), and the Principle of Acquaintance requires that “every
proposition which we can understand must be composed wholly of constituents
with which we are acquainted”[8] (1917,
211). For Frege modes of presentation are the constituents of thoughts, and the
objects which modes of presentation present are not. Because the relation
between subject to object is mediated by a sense, this relation is indirect,
unlike Russellian acquaintance.[9]
So the difference between Frege’s
two-tiered and Russell’s one-tiered semantics mirrors their different
epistemological views on presentation. In particular, they are, in their
respective ways, descriptivists about singular thought as well as about proper
names. However, a descriptivist about proper names need not be a descriptivist
about singular thought. One could hold that names are abbreviated descriptions
without holding, as Russell did, that thinking of an object by name is to think
of it under a description. One need not accept Russell’s view that (public)
objects do not enter into propositions that we are capable of entertaining and
that the propositions that seem to be about them are really general
propositions (to the effect that a unique object of a certain sort has a
certain property). Equally, one could hold that names have
reference-determining senses without holding, as Frege did, that thoughts about
objects involve senses (individual concepts), which determine an object by
fixing a context-insensitive condition of satisfaction. Neither abbreviational
nor sense-descriptivism about proper names has to be saddled with a
descriptivist view of singular thought. I will illustrate this in connection
the metalinguistic version of abbreviational descriptivism that I will be
defending later.
Metalinguistic descriptivism, as a
thesis merely about the meaning of names, does not imply that when one refers
to an individual by name (in uttering a sentence of the form ‘N is F’), one is
communicating a general (uniqueness) proposition, of the form ‘the one and only
bearer of “N” is F.’ Ordinarily, using a name is just a convenient way for us
“to indicate what we are speaking about” (Russell) by making its bearer “the
subject of discourse” (Mill), and metalinguistic descriptivism, not being an
account of use, does not imply otherwise. It is compatible with the fact that
statements made with sentences containing a proper name generally communicate a
singular proposition about the bearer of the name (or, if the name has many
bearers, about a particular bearer of the name). For this fact concerns not the
semantics of names but their use in communication, and, as I will suggest
later, it is this fact to which the intuitions supporting the Millian and other
direct-reference views of proper names are sensitive.
So far we have the distinction between
the general (uniqueness) proposition determined by the linguistic meaning of a
sentence of the form ‘N is F’ and the singular proposition expressed in the
utterance of that sentence. What about the thought in the mind of the speaker?
Its content cannot be a singular proposition, of the form ‘a is F,’ for then
one could not consistently think of the same object that it is not F. But one
can do this, e.g., consistently think that London is pretty and that London is not
pretty. This is possible, according to Frege, if one thinks of the object under
distinct modes of presentation, under one that it is F and under the other that
it is not F.[10] Now if
these modes of presentation were expressible by definite descriptions, the
contents of the two thoughts would be in effect that the object that satisfies
one descriptive condition has a certain property and that the object that
satisfies the other descriptive condition lacks that property, in which case
the contents of “singular” thoughts would really be general propositions.[11] If a
thought is truly singular, its object cannot be thought of as that which
satisfies a certain description. So we should not assume that singular modes of
presentation are expressible by definite descriptions. Let us suppose instead
that the object of a singular thought is determined relationally, as the
individual that stands in one of a certain class of relations to the token of
the thought in question.[12] The
(nondescriptive) mode of presentation of the object determines what relation
that is—it can involve perception, memory, or communication—but the object is
not represented as the thing which stands in that relation. These
nondescriptive modes of presentation, which do not determine an object apart from
a context of thought, function as mental indexicals, and include the mental
counterparts of proper names.[13]
So there is the meaning of the sentence
(of the form ‘N is F’), what the speaker communicates in using the sentence,
and the thought in the mind of the speaker. The meaning of the sentence
expresses a general (uniqueness) proposition, of the form ‘the bearer of “N” is
F,’ what is communicated is a singular proposition of the form ‘a is F,’ and
the thought in the mind of the speaker is an indexical thought, true or false,
relative to the context, with respect to the object in question. The hearer
forms a thought of the same sort, though he need not think of the object under
the same nondescriptive mode of presentation—what matters is getting the object
right.[14]
The idea, then, is that the
communication of singular thoughts does not require the communication of
singular senses, Fregean or otherwise.[15] What is
communicated is merely a singular proposition, which is an abstraction from
both the speaker’s and the hearer’s (or hearers’) singular thoughts regarding
the object in question (that it is F). The sentence (‘N is F’) used to
communicate a singular thought does not encode the full content of either the
speaker’s thought or the thought to be formed by the hearer, but it does not
encode a singular proposition either. The sentence itself encodes merely a
general, uniqueness proposition. So, for example, the sentence ‘David Kaplan is
clever’ encodes the uniqueness proposition that the bearer of ‘David Kaplan’ is
clever. The bearer of the name, the man, enters only into what is communicated
in the use of the sentence.[16] However,
this singular proposition, that David Kaplan is clever, is not the content of
the singular thought entertained by either the speaker or by the hearer, who
must each think of Kaplan in one way or another, but not necessarily in the
same way.
Interestingly enough, both Russell and
Frege recognized that the speaker’s and the hearer’s ways of thinking of the
referent need not be the same. Russell allowed that “the description required
to express the thought will vary for different people, or for the same person
at different times. … But so long as [the object to which the name applies]
remains constant, the particular description involved usually makes no
difference to the truth or falsehood of the proposition in which the name
appears” (1917, 208). And Frege allowed that for “a proper name such as
‘Aristotle’ opinions as to the sense may differ, … [but] so long as the
reference remains the same, such variations of sense may be tolerated” (1892,
58n.). Russell’s and Frege’s theories differ, of course, in how they provide
for these possibilities.
In sum, descriptivism about proper names
does not require a descriptivist view of singular thought and its
communication. In particular, the metalinguistic version of abbreviational
descriptivism is compatible with the view that singular thought is indexical
and that what is communicated in the expression of a singular thought is a
singular proposition.
3. On
Sense and Reference: Frege, Katz, and Kaplan
As noted
earlier, in defining description theories as claiming that “proper names have a
sense and that their sense is somehow necessary to fixing their reference”
(1990, 33), Katz erroneously excludes Russell’s abbreviational view. As we will
see now, he also inadvertently includes Kaplan’s direct-reference view. In
addition, he gives the false impression that even though his view of sense is
different from Frege’s, his sense of ‘sense’ is the same as Frege’s.
Katz’s definition excludes Millianism
but not direct-reference theories in general. According to Mill, “proper names
are not connotative: they denote the individuals who are called by them; but
they do not indicate or imply any attributes as belonging to those individuals”[17] (1872,
20). However, a direct-reference theory need not be Millian, and certainly
Kaplan’s is not. While maintaining that only the referent enters into the
proposition expressed by a sentence in which a proper name occurs, Kaplan
explicitly states that the referent is fixed by a sense.[18] It is not
Kaplan’s view that the reference of a name must be fixed by the content of a
definite description, but a direct-reference theorists could consistently hold
this—with the proviso that the descriptive content does not enter into the
proposition expressed. Such a view does not imply that names have Fregean
senses, but it is not Millian either. However, when Katz describes
direct-reference theory as holding that “the reference of a name is not
mediated by a sense” (1990, 34), he is equating it with Millianism. This eases
his task of defending descriptivism, allowing him to award points to
descriptivism by scoring points against the Millian thesis that there is
nothing more to the meaning of a name than its bearer.
Katz’s conception of sense is quite
different from Frege’s. For Katz, senses are properties that expressions have
in virtue of which they can be synonymous, ambiguous, redundant, contradictory,
hyponymous, antonymous, etc. These are the properties and relations that
concern lexical semantics (Cruse 1986), as opposed to philosophical semantics.
Katz takes sense to be an intralinguistic property, one that does not concern,
at least not directly, the relationship between language and the world. In his
view, sense should be defined not as “a determiner of referential properties
and relations …but [as] a determiner of sense properties and relations” (1994,
9). Sense merely “mediates” reference. Armed with this concepton, Katz chides
Frege for defining sense as the determiner of reference. Such a definition,
Katz writes, is like giving “a definition of pronunciation that is not
formulated in terms of phonological features or a definition of number that is
not formulated in terms of arithmetic features” (1994, 9).
Given his conception of sense, it is no
wonder that Katz takes the main question in the debate between Fregeans and
Millians to concern whether or not proper names have linguistic meaning.
However, it is a mistake to think that Frege equates sense with linguistic
meaning, as Tyler Burge pointed out some time ago (1979, 398-407). Burge cites
various passages in which Frege says, in regard either to indexicals or to
names themselves, that they can have different senses associated with them in
different contexts.[19] Frege
gives no indication that what is variable is linguistic meaning.
Whereas for Katz sense constitutes
linguistic meaning, for Frege sense plays a rather different role. Indeed, as
is well-known, Frege casts sense in three roles: as (S1)
determinant of reference, as (S2) “mode of presentation” (of reference), and as (S3)
“indirect” (as opposed to “customary”) reference of an expression embedded in a
context of indirect quotation or propositional attitude ascription.[20] S1 is one of
two levels of semantic significance (along with reference), and S2 is often
described as cognitive significance (Frege uses the phrase “cognitive
value”). Frege agrees with Russell, and with Mill for that matter, that words
are ordinarily used (i.e., when S3 does not come into play) to talk
about things, not ideas: “If words are used in the ordinary way, what one
intends to speak of is their reference” (1892, 58). Even so, we must associate
reference-determining properties (S1) with our words. Moreover, since
our words also express our thoughts, they must correspond to constituents of
those thoughts (S2). Thus, for Frege, the semantic and the cognitive
significance of expressions are intimately related. Indeed, because sense is
possible without reference—as the determinant of reference it is independent of
that which it determines—Frege holds that the constituents of thoughts are
senses, not references.
Katz departs from Frege by denying that
sense determines reference. He is not repeating John Perry’s (1977) complaint
that Frege’s notion of sense cannot handle indexical (or demonstrative)
reference.[21] Katz’s
point has nothing to do with indexicality, for he is rejecting the very
conception of sense that would even suggest that sense determines reference.
Like Chomsky (1995), he sees reference not as a semantic relation but as
belonging to pragmatics. In Katz’s view, “the study of languages concerns the
grammatical structure of sentence types, and the study of language use concerns
the pragmatic structure of tokens of sentence types” (1994, 2). Semantic
structure is included in grammatical structure, but the properties and
relations represented in semantic structure are all intralinguistic. They do
not include referential relations. In this respect, Katz’s conception of
semantics is clearly different from that of most philosophers of language, who
generally take semantics, whatever its specific format, to concern reference
and truth conditions. There is no need to assess Katz’s general conception of
semantics here, for it will have no bearing on our discussion of proper names
in particular. Regardless of the details of that conception, it is clear that
when Katz contrasts his (sense-) descriptivism with Frege’s, he and Frege are
not disagreeing about the same thing, since Frege does not equate sense with
linguistic meaning.
Construing them as linguistic meanings,
Katz takes senses to be the properties expressions have in virtue of which they
can be synonymous, ambiguous, redundant, etc. He thinks this conception of
sense provides an immediate benefit to the semantics of proper names: “Since …
sense is required to be just informationally rich enough to explain the sense
properties and relations of expressions, descriptivists are no longer forced to
stuff senses full of reference-fixing information” (1994, 10). There is no need
to define ‘Aristotle,’ for example, in terms of substantive descriptions like
‘the teacher of Alexander’ or ‘Gödel’ as ‘the prover of the incompleteness of
arithmetic,’ and thereby fall prey to the familiar counterfactual arguments
advanced by Kripke. Rather than invoke identifying properties, Katz’s
descriptivism appeals only to the “purely nominal bearer relation that makes a
sense metalinguistic” (1994, 7). In my view, metalinguistic descriptivism can
be made even purer, by not appealing to sense and simply treating proper names
as abbreviations of definite descriptions that mention them.
4. Going
Metalinguistic
Names
without bearers create an embarrassment for Millian and other direct-reference
accounts, because such names cannot contribute references to propositions
expressed by sentences in which they occur and therefore cannot play their
semantic role. For if a sentence containing a proper name must express a
singular proposition, a proposition which is contingent on the existence of an
object, then if the name is empty there is no such proposition for it express.[22] Yet names
without bearers are perfectly meaningful, and sentences in which they occur do
express propositions. Indeed, a sentence like ‘Santa Claus does not exist’ is
not only meaningful but true.
Description theories are designed to
avoid the problem of empty names, but they face a different problem, one of
indeterminacy. This problem is that, in general, there is no one property (or
one set of properties) that is uniquely associated with a name, even if the
name has only one bearer.[23] As both
Donnellan (1970) and Kripke (1980) point out, speakers (even the same speaker)
can associate different properties (or sets of properties) with a given
individual, hence different descriptions (or senses) with a name of that
individual. Yet names are not indeterminate in meaning in this way. For
example, even though people associate various descriptions with the name
‘Aristotle’ (considered just as the name of the ancient philosopher), it seems
perfectly determinate in meaning.
The problem of indeterminacy does not
arise for metalinguistic descriptivism, since it does not claim that
substantive definite descriptions (or senses) are associated with a proper
name. In the case of the name ‘Aristotle,’ for instance, it does not force a
choice between descriptions like ‘the author of The Metaphysics’ and
‘the teacher of Alexander.’ The only property it invokes is the property of
bearing the name in question, and there is nothing equivocal about that. In
this regard, it separates the meaning of the name from the various ways in
which the speaker (or the hearer) might think of the name’s bearer.
The metalinguistic view does not require that the primary way in
which a user of the name thinks of the referent is as the bearer of the name.
Referring to an individual by name is generally a matter of convenience,
especially when one’s audience is familiar with that individual (otherwise an
introduction is needed) or when the name has already been used in the
conversation, but otherwise the property of bearing a certain name is not
particularly important or salient and does not enter into what is communicated.
In this respect, typical referring uses of proper names are like referential
uses of definite descriptions.[24]
On the other hand, there are cases in
which the property of bearing a certain name is part of what the speaker is
trying to convey. The metalinguistic view straightforwardly explains such a use
of a name, which is like the attributive use of a definite description. For
instance, suppose one sees the name ‘Aaron Aardvark’ at the beginning of a
telephone directory and, contemplating the benefits of being first in
alphabetic order, says “Aaron Aardvark (whoever he is) is a lucky guy.” This
use is clearly attributive, not referential, in that the property of bearing
the name, rather than the bearer of the name, is part of what the speaker
means. That property also enters in when someone is identified by name (“That
is Madonna”) or is introduced (“This is Steve Jones”), and the metalinguistic
view accounts for these cases as well.
A crucial point about the metalinguistic
view is that in saying that a name expresses the nominal property of bearing
that very name, it is making a generic claim about proper names. Thus
this claim takes a schematic form, on my formulation for example, that ‘N’ is
semantically equivalent to ‘the bearer of “N”.’ As a result, the proposed
schema applies routinely to familiar and unfamilar names alike. So no special
semantic knowledge is required for learning a new name, for it is by virtue of
one’s general knowledge about the category of proper names that one knows of
any specific name that it expresses the property of bearing that name. The fact
that the schema applies to proper names as a class explains is why the
metalinguistic theorist can hold, for example, that the name ‘Socrates’ means
‘the bearer of “Socrates”,’ without being committed to holding that the word ‘horse’
means ‘thing called “horse”.’ Unlike common nouns, proper names are not lexical
items in a language.
Understood in this way, the
metalinguistic view is not vulnerable to Kripke’s well-known circularity
objection. He rightly insists that a theory of proper names must avoid using
any “notion of reference in a way that is ultimately impossible to eliminate”
(1980, 68). He then objects that if “we ask to whom does [a speaker] refer by
‘Socrates’, … the answer is given as, well, he refers to the man to whom he
refers” (1980, 70). In fact, however, bearing a name is not the same property
as being referred to by that name. Kripke regards the metalinguistic theory as
circular because he takes the fact that we use a name to refer to its bearer to
be trivial. But this is not a trivial fact. Although it is certainly more
convenient to refer to people by their own name, we could refer to them
instead by their maternal grandmother’s name or even by their Social Security
number. It is no more essential to the property of bearing a certain name that
one be referred to by that name than it is essential to the property of having
a certain Social Security number that one be referred by that number. Bearing a
name and being referred to by that name are distinct properties. The
metalinguistic approach is not the “theory of reference” that Kripke takes it
to be.[25]
The metalinguistic view has a number of
interesting and plausible consequences, which go unexplained on other views of
proper names:
1. A use of a name to refer to an
individual that does not bear the name is not literal.
2.
Having more than one bearer does not entail that a name has more than one
linguistic meaning.
3.
Distinct names of the same individual are not synonymous.
4.
Names do not belong to particular languages and are not translatable.
Let us
take these up in order.[26]
1. A name intentionally used to refer to
an individual that does not bear it is not being used literally. For instance,
the name ‘Elvis’ might be used to refer to a local singer of old rock-and-roll
songs. Katz gives the example of the name ‘Hitler’ being used to refer to a
tyrannical college dean (1994, 11). Since the persons in question are assumed
not to bear these names (not even as nicknames), such uses are not literal. A
metalinguistic theory, which invokes the property of bearing the name,
straightforwardly explains how names can be used nonliterally in this way. The
speaker intends to be referring not to the bearer of the name but to someone
saliently similar to the (famous) bearer of the name.
2. By citing only the nominal property
of bearing the name, the metalinguistic view avoids the implication that names
with many bearers are semantically ambiguous. Substantive description theories,
as well as direct-reference theories, imply that a name like ‘Salem’ or ‘Sally’
has as many linguistic meanings as it has bearers.[27] They
would suggest that being ignorant of all the towns named ‘Salem’ or all the
people named ‘Sally’ is a deficiency in linguistic knowledge. And substantive
description theories imply that a name is even ambiguous with respect to a
single bearer, in as many ways as there are descriptions associated with that
individual. ‘Aristotle’ is a familiar example.
3. Because bearing the name ‘M’ is
distinct from the property of bearing the name ‘N’, the metalinguistic view
entails that distinct names cannot be synonymous. It thereby explains why
‘Dylan bears “Dylan”,’ as Katz says, “smacks of redundancy” (1990, 37), whereas
‘Zimmerman bears “Dylan” ’ does not. Similarly, it explains why statements of
the form ‘M is N’ are informative in the sense of not being redundant (such a
statement may be uninformative in the irrelevant sense of being old news to
someone who knows that M is N, e.g., to someone who knows that Robert Zimmerman
is Bob Dylan). Substantive description theories imply that distinct proper
names can be synonymous (by being associated with the same definite
description), hence that identity statements containing two synonymous names
can be uninformative (of course Millians would not find this implication
objectionable, but their commitment to the synonymy of co-referring names also
commits them to the meaninglessness of empty names).
4. For similar reasons, the
metalinguistic view implies that proper names are not translatable. This is not
because their meanings are ineffable but because, strictly speaking, they do
not belong to particular languages. They do, of course, have pronunciations and
spellings characteristic of particular languages, and they do have counterparts
with pronunications and spellings characteristic of other languages, but these
counterparts are not translations of one another. Consider the name ‘John,’ for
example, and its counterparts ‘Juan,’ ‘Johann,’ ‘Jean,’ and ‘Ian.’ Despite
their distinctive pronunications and spellings, each of them can can be used
without anomaly (or italics) outside its home language.[28] For
example, if you wish to speak in English about your Spanish friend ‘Juan,’ you
do not switch to ‘John,’ and in writing you do not use italics. Proper names
have phonological and orthographic properties characteristic of particular
languages, but this does not make them lexical items in those languages. If
proper names were lexical items in a language, then not knowing a particular
name would constitute a linguistic deficiency. But it does not. Learning a new
name is not like acquiring a new word in one’s vocabulary (does learning
‘Dweezil’ and ‘Moon Unit,’ the names of the late Frank Zappa’s children, add to
one’s knowledge of English?). As noted above, the metalinguistic view
denies that distinct bits of semantic information must be learned for each
proper name. It proposes a schema instead, applicable to names generally,
including unfamiliar ones.
An apparent difficulty for
metalinguistic descriptivism is that a name often has more than one bearer.
‘Salem’ is such a name—there is no such town as the bearer of that name.
Accordingly, one might consider going metalinguistic without going
descriptivist. Alternative formulations would also advert to the property of
bearing a certain name but would not imply uniqueness. One possible version,
not that it has ever been suggested, is that a proper name is equivalent to a
metalinguistic indefinite description, of the form ‘a bearer of “N”.’
This suggestion certainly allows for multiplicity of bearers, but it is too
weak. It falsely predicts that a sentence like ‘John is tall’ could be used to
make merely the existential assertion that at least one bearer of ‘John’ is
tall. The use of proper names is never as nonspecific as that.[29]
More plausible is the suggestion that a
proper name is a kind of indexical or demonstrative, with fixed meaning and
variable reference. The idea is that a name ‘N’ is equivalent to the
metalinguistic demonstrative description, ‘that bearer of “N”.’ However,
names belong to individuals quite apart from context of use. In contrast,
indexicals and demonstratives do not belong to individuals at all—they are
simply devices for referring. This difference makes trouble François Recanati’s
formulation of the indexical theory: “the meaning of a proper name NN refers
the hearer to a relation which holds in context between the name and its
reference, namely the name-bearer relation”[30] (1993,
140-1). The trouble is that the name-bearer relation is not context-sensitive
at all—a name bears this relation to all of its bearers, not just to the one
the speaker is using it to refer to in the context. What is context-sensitive
is the speaker-referent relation, but this is not the relation invoked by
Recanati’s rule. The mere fact that proper names are used to refer to
contextually identifiable individuals does not mean that they are like
indexicals and demonstratives. However, it does raise the question, which an
adequate version of metalinguistic descriptivism must answer, of how this
context-sensitivity is to be accounted for.
5. PMT and
NDT Compared
Exactly how should
metalinguistic descriptivism be formulated? Should it assign senses to names?
And how does it propose to accommodate the fact that a name with many bearers
can be used to refer to one of the name’s bearers in particular? Katz and I
agree that the only property it should advert to is the nominal property of
bearing a certain name but that it is beyond the scope of semantics to give an
account of the “sociological” property of bearing a certain name. An
explanation of that would have to reckon with the fact that how a name is
acquired can vary, depending on the type of name: given name, nickname, stage
name, geographical name, brand name, etc. As Katz emphasizes, it is important
to keeps the metalinguistic theory “pure” (the ‘P’ in ‘PMT’):
[by]
adulterating the bearer condition in the senses of names with real properties
and relations [e.g., being called ‘N’], impure metalinguistic description
theories forfeit the advantage of having gone metalinguistic in the first
place. [This] makes the theory vulnerable to the very counterfactual arguments
that refute straightforward Fregean versions of the description theory. (1994,
7)
Katz and I
both try to keep our accounts untainted.
As Katz formulates PMT, a proper name
‘N’ has the sense of
DDPMT: ‘the thing which is a bearer of
“N” ’
My
“nominal description theory” also invokes the nominal bearer relation, but with
the simpler schema
DDNDT: ‘the bearer of “N” ’[31]
Despite
the fact that DDPMT is more complicated, it seems to be merely a
notational variant of DDNDT. The two seem to differ only syntactically, like
‘the thing which is a bottle’ and ‘the bottle.’ So why does Katz opt for the
more elaborate DDPMT, with its relative clause containing an indefinite
description? He does this to accommodate “the linguistic fact that a name is
not limited to a single bearer”[32] (1994,
17). The elaborate “sense structure” of DDPMT is supposed to do justice to the
“division of labor” involved in the use of names. As Katz describes this
division, “the objects in the domain of the language are first filtered by the
bearer condition, then by contextual knowledge of the name-bearer correlations,
and finally by descriptive information introduced to make the referent
contextually definite” (1994, 21).
Now if this division of labor were
linguistically marked, then by parity of reasoning an ordinary
(nonmetalinguistic) incomplete definite description like ‘the bottle’ would be
marked similarly: its semantic structure would take the form, ‘the thing which
is a bottle.’ Yet there is no syntactic motivation for supposing that. Worse,
this supposition does not really help explain how ‘the bottle’ can be used to
refer to a specific bottle. If one utters “The bottle is empty,” using the
description ‘the bottle’ to refer to a certain bottle, say the bottle one is
examining, one is using ‘bottle’ to mean bottle and ‘the’ to imply
uniqueness. However, one obviously does not mean that there exists only one
bottle; what one is saying, strictly and literally, does not make fully
explicit what one means. But neither does the more elaborate, ‘The thing which
is a bottle is empty.’ With either utterance, one means something regarding the
contextually relevant bottle, but its being contextually relevant is not part
of what one says. Adding the relative clause with its indefinite
description does not help explain the specificity of the reference. Similarly,
the use of a proper name with many bearers does not make explicit which of its
bearers one is referring to, and Katz’s DDPMT with its relative clause
and indefinite description does not pick up the slack.[33] So, for
example, one can use the name ‘Gareth Evans’ to refer to the late English
philosopher rather than to the Australian politician, but this is not explained
by supposing that the sense of the name is given by ‘the individual who is a
bearer of “Gareth Evans”.’ DDPMT makes a futile attempt to
incorporate into sense elements that are merely pragmatic and relevant to use,
not meaning.
Katz goes further and attributes
additional sense structure to particular tokens of a name, in order to explain
the token’s reference to a particular bearer of the name type. Each token of a
name with many bearers has a sense in its own right, according to Katz, and
“the sense of literal tokens derives from the sense of their type” (1994, 23).
But he does not explain how. He needs to say how the sense of the type gets
enriched into the sense of the token, so that its additional properties can
effectively constrain the reference. Nor does he explain what these properties
could be. For if sense properties (and relations) are characteristics like
ambiguity, synonymy, redundancy, and antonymy, they could belong only to
expression types, not tokens. Moreover, it does not seem that proper names,
considered just as types, even have such characteristics. What, for example,
could count as a synonym of ‘Cincinnati’ or as an antonym of ‘Mississippi’? All
in all, it does not seem that the notion of sense can play the role for which
Katz casts it. Indeed, it seems that what makes Katz’s PMT metalinguistic is
not that it assigns senses to names but that, in the fashion of Russell, it
treats them as short for definite descriptions.
NDT is unequivocal about this—it makes
no reference to sense and claims only that a name ‘N’ is semantically
equivalent to ‘the bearer of “N”.’[34] It does
not assign to this schema the job for which Katz employs the more elaborate
‘the thing which is a bearer of “N”,’ a job which cannot be performed at the
semantic level alone. NDT relies on the structurally simpler DDNDT for
limited semantic duties; a separate pragmatic account is required, should ‘N’
have many bearers, to explain how ‘N’ can be used to refer to one of its
bearers in particular. Reference to a contextually definite bearer of ‘N’ is
assimilated to the more general phenomenon of using an incomplete definite
description to refer to a specific individual, a phenomenon that does not have
to be represented at any linguistic level. NDT does not confuse the
definiteness of a proper name with the specificity of the reference made in
using it. No one would suggest that just because there are many bottles and the
description ‘the bottle’ is ordinarily used to refer to a certain one of them,
that this description has the underlying form, ‘the thing which is a bottle.’
In this regard, it is no objection to
Russell’s theory of descriptions that an incomplete definite description can be
used successfully to refer even when it is obviously not satisfied by anything
uniquely.[35] Using
such a description does not commit the speaker to the existence of one and only
individual of the relevant sort. Consider the use of the description ‘the
bottle,’ as it occurs in the sentence ‘The bottle is empty.’ There may be some
completion of the description (e.g., ‘the whiskey bottle in my hip pocket’)
that the speaker intends the hearer to read into the utterance. Or, there may
be some contextually identifiable basis (e.g., visual salience) for singling
out the relevant individual. Russell’s theory does not require that when one
utters ‘The bottle is empty,’ one means precisely what the sentence means.
One’s utterance need not be taken strictly and literally. In this regard, a
definite description is like any other quantified noun phrase, in that it can
be used with an implicit restriction on its domain. But this should not lead us
to suppose that the syntactic or semantic structure of the description contains
a slot that must be filled in by a specification of the means by which the
intended referent is contextually determined, or by a contextual restriction on
the domain of quantification or “universe of discourse.” The suggestion would
be that the description has underlying form ‘the ___ bottle’ or ‘the bottle
which is ___,’ where the blank must be filled by a contextually undertood
completer of the description. The trouble with this suggestion is its implicit
assumption that the specificity of the reference must be marked at some
linguistic level. Inferring such a completion of (or restriction on) the
description may help the hearer identify the referent, but this completion is
not part of the strict and literal content of the utterance.
By exploiting the distinction between
what is literally and strictly expressed by a sentence containing a proper name
and what is conveyed in its typical use, metalinguistic descriptivism can
answer the complaint that it implies that when we use sentences containing a
name with many bearers, “we only rarely mean what we say” (Taschek 1990, 40),
hence that it postulates a “massive amount of semantic idleness” (Kobes 1991,
471). For what Kobes calls semantic idleness is really pragmatic efficiency. He
is wrong to suggest that we should have expected “such standardized
non-literality to drift into the semantics of the language, just as misuse and
metaphor become semantically correct and literal with standardization.” We
should not expect such inexplicitness to be encoded, for it is not attributable
to particular constructions and occurs with a great variety of different ones.
Inexplicitness is a general phenomenon.[36]
Here is one way to think of what happens
when we use an incomplete definite description or a shared proper name: we do
not imply uniqueness but merely pretend (for the sake of
discussion) that there is a unique satisfier of the description or a unique
bearer of the name. This pretense of uniqueness is analogous to other pretenses
involved in certain uses of language. For example, as Mark Crimmins has
suggested, when we attribute to Lois Lane the belief that Superman can fly and
that Clark Kent cannot, “we pretend that there are different individuals to
talk about” (1995, 13). Then there is the pretense of existence we engage in
when talking about fictional characters. As Gregory Currie (1990) argues, such
talk does not require explanation in terms of specifically fictional language.
Rather, it is a special use of ordinary language. The same goes for the use of
definite singular terms that do not apply uniquely.
The pretense model will perhaps mislead.
It is just a way of putting the idea that the uses of names with many bearers
may be assimilated to referential uses of incomplete definite descriptions.
This idea was first advanced by Brian Loar (1976, 370-73), who proposed that
standard uses of names like ‘Jones’ and descriptions like ‘the table’ include
individuating concepts that are not expressed by their conventional meanings
(their conventional meanings convey only non-individuating properties, such as
being called ‘Jones’ and being a table). How this occurs has a Gricean
explanation. A speaker who says ‘Jones is a psychoanalyst’ or ‘The table is
bare’ exploits the mutual belief, shared by him and his audience, that there are
many bearers of ‘Jones’ or many tables. He can intend and reasonably expect
them to rely on this mutual belief to figure out that he must be referring to a
certain bearer of ‘Jones’ or to a certain table, identifiable under the
circumstances of utterances on the supposition that it is intended to be
identified.
Once it is understood that the standard
use of proper names—to refer to particular bearers—is not to be explained by
their conventional meaning alone, we can see why the usual objections to substantive
description theories do not apply to the metalinguistic version. As Donnellan
(1970) and Kripke (1980) have shown, there are serious problems with the claim
that the name ‘Gödel,’ for example, is synonymous with, say, ‘the discoverer of
the incompleteness of arithmetic,’ especially if it asserts that using the name
to refer to Gödel requires thinking of him under that description. Also, this
claim misclassifies as analytic the obviously synthetic sentence, ‘Gödel was
the discoverer of the incompleteness of arithmetic,’ and it rules out real
metaphysical possibilities, such as that someone other than Gödel was the
discoverer of the incompleteness of arithmetic. However, analogous objections
do not apply to metalinguistic descriptivism. The claim that the name ‘Gödel’
is semantically equivalent to ‘the bearer of “Gödel” ’ does entail that the use
of this name conveys the property of bearing the name, but it does not entail
that a user of that name think of Gödel under the description, ‘the bearer of
“Gödel”.’ It does entail that the sentence, ‘Gödel bore the name “Gödel”,’ is
analytic, but it does not entail that bearing the name was a necessary property
of the man Gödel. Metalinguistic descriptivism avoids the usual objections by
exploiting the distinction between the meaning of the name and its use to
refer. In uttering, ‘Gödel discovered the incompleteness of arithmetic,’ a
speaker is not likely to mean that the bearer of ‘Gödel’ discovered
incompleteness. He is likely to be communicating a singular proposition about
Gödel.[37]
6. Summing
Up
When
descriptivism is distilled down to its essence, it is nothing more than the
thesis that a name ‘N’ is semantically equivalent (not syntactically or
pragmatic equivalent) to a metalinguistic definite description of the form ‘the
bearer of “N”.’ To explain the use of a name with many bearers to refer to a
particular one of its bearers, it must be augmented by a pragmatic account that
parallels the explanation of referential uses of incomplete definite
descriptions. Such an account exploits the distinction between the linguistic
meaning of a sentence, the thought in the mind of the speaker, and what is
communicated in the utterance. The meaning of a sentence containing a proper
name or a definite description is a general, uniqueness proposition, but if the
use is referential, the speaker’s thought is indexical in character, involving
a contextual relation between the speaker and the referent. But what is
communicated in such a use is a singular proposition, involving the referent
rather than any particular way of thinking of it. This last fact explains the
intuition on which direct-reference theories rely, that the referent is what
enters into the proposition expressed, but the intuition concerns what is
communicated, not literal meaning. Metalinguistic descriptivism does not imply
that the property of bearing the name is part of what is communicated, and,
unlike direct-reference theories, it does not imply that sentences containing
names without bearers are semantically defective. Fully purified, it is a
modest thesis about the linguistic meaning of names and, without attributing
senses to them, claims simply that they abbreviate definite descriptions that
mention them.
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Footnotes
[1]In “On Denoting,” Russell uses his (in-)famous Gray’s Elegy argument to demonstrate the incoherence of his earlier view of “denoting concepts” as having both “meaning” and “denotation” (1905, 48-50). Michael Kremer (1994), in the course of presenting a thoroughgoing analysis of this argument, contends that it is directly primarily not at Frege’s theory of sense and reference but at Russell’s own earlier theory.
[2]I am using the term ‘proposition,’ here and throughout, with no commitment as to the nature of propositions or even as to their ineliminability. Accordingly, phrases like ‘express a proposition,’ ‘enter into a proposition,’ and ‘singular/general proposition’ should be understood in as theoretically neutral a way as possible (except when views are being attributed, e.g., to Russell).
[3]It might be noted here that the phrase, ‘propositions in which descriptions occur,' like ‘the proposition in which the name appears’ (1917, 208), typifies Russell’s tendency toward a kind of use-mention conflation, since it is not symbols but the items symbolized that enter into propositions.
[4]Moreover,
The denotation [of the description]
is not a constituent of the proposition, except in the case of proper names,
i.e. of words which do not assign a property to an object, but merely and
solely name it. And I should hold further that, in this sense, there are only
two words which are strictly proper names of particulars, namely “I” and
“this.” (1917, 216)
In a footnote here, Russell adds the afterthought, “I should now exclude ‘I’ from proper names in the strict sense, and retain only ‘this’.”
[5]Thus Russell often calls definite descriptions “incomplete symbols,” which “disappear upon logical analysis.” A contemporary Russellian, Stephen Neale, sharpens Russell’s distinction between terms (logically proper names and variables) and incomplete symbols (quantificational phrases) in “Term Limits” (1993). For the sake of perspicuity, he recommends the use of restricted quantifier notation, whereby a description sentence may be represented by the form, ‘[the x: Fx]Gx.’
[6]David Bell (1990) has forcefully debunked Gareth Evans’ (1982, ch. 1) revisionist interpretation of Frege, according to which some singular terms, the ones commonly regarded today as directly referential (Evans misleadingly calls them “Russellian”), cannot have senses without having references. Contrary to Evans, Bell argues, Fregean senses cannot be “object-involving.”
[7]Tyler Burge (1991), in an important recent exchange with John Searle (1991), rejects this equivalence. So do I. Building on Burge’s idea that a de re belief involves a “nonconceptual, contextual relation to objects the belief is about” (1977, 346), I argue that perceptual beliefs are essentially indexical and, in particular, that percepts function as mental indexicals (Bach 1982).
[8]It is ironic that many contemporary direct-reference theorists call themselves Russellians. They do so not because of Russell’s view of (ordinary) proper names but in spite of it, since they do not require that the constituents of propositions be objects of acquaintance. They adopt the label ‘Russellian’ because of their preference for Russell’s notion of proposition over Frege’s—with objects and properties as constituents, rather than senses. Yet they posit, in Fregean fashion, different ways of taking a Russellian proposition and different ways of thinking of each of its constituents.
[9]Even so, it is not indirect in the sense of being mediated by a direct cognitive relation: one does not have to think of a sense (mode of presentation) in order to think of that which it presents. Moreover, the sense-mediated relation of subject to object is not indirect in the way that for Russell knowledge by description is indirect. Knowledge of something by description always involves a direct cognitive relation to other items, namely objects of acquaintance, which can be sense-data and unanalyzable universals. When we know something by description, “we know that there is one object, and no more, having a certain property” (1917, 207). This is an entirely different relation from Frege’s sense-mediated relation of subject to object, whereby one is presented with an object by way of grasping a sense.
[10]Whatever modes of presentation are exactly, they may be defined functionally as those items which make this possible. Russell in effect denies this possibility—where there seem to be two singular propositions that conflict, there are really two general, quantificational propositions that are compatible.
[11]Russell accepts this consequence, as when he remarks,
It would seem that …we often intend to make our
statement, not in the form involving the description, but about the actual
thing described, …[but] in this we are necessarily defeated. …What enables us
to communicate in spite of the varying descriptions we employ is that we know
there is a true proposition concerning the actual Bismarck and that, however we
may vary the description (as long as the description is correct), the
proposition described is still the same. This proposition, which is described
and is known to be true, is what interests us; but we are not acquainted with
the proposition itself, and do not know it, though we know it is true. (1917,
210-11)
Evidently, we can know the proposition that “interests us” only by description.
[12]This idea is developed in Bach 1987, ch. 1. A terminological point is in order here. I have been using ‘proposition’ to mean a truth-valuable content, indeed one that is true and false independently of context. By ‘thought’ here I mean a truth-valuable token state. Accordingly, the content of a thought is propositional only if it cannot vary with context. In my view, as sketched in the text, singular thoughts do not have singular propositions as their contents—they are indexical .
[13]Forbes (1989, 1990), Recanati (1993, ch. 10), and I (Bach 1987, 31-39) have all implemented this idea, using the metaphor of names as labels on mental files.
[14]If there is no such object, then no singular proposition can be communicated, and the best the hearer can do is recognize that the speaker intends to communicate such a proposition (Bach 1987, 120). When it is common ground that there is no actual referent, as with “reference” to fictional characters, there is a pretense of reference (Currie 1990).
[15]Here I disagree with Richard Heck (1995), who contends that singular senses are part of what is communicated in the expression of singular thoughts. In my view, the intended way of thinking of the referent is not part of what is communicated but, rather, provides the hearer with a basis for thinking that he has correctly identified the intended referent.
[16]In fact, there are many bearers of the name ‘David Kaplan,’ including not only the philosopher at UCLA but also a certain member of the Stanford Medical School and my neighbor across the street. So, although one can use the sentence to communicate a singular proposition about David Kaplan the philosopher, it cannot be this proposition in particular that is encoded by the sentence.
[17]Millianism is sometimes described as the view that there is nothing more to the meaning of a proper name than its bearer and sometimes as denying that names have meanings at all. I take the difference here to be merely terminological, depending on what one means by 'meaning,’ or else rhetorical.
[18]This point is often misunderstood. For example, Katz
says that the direct-reference theory’s “principal claim is that the semantic
value of a name is nothing over and above the object it denotes: the reference
of a name is not mediated by sense, but is direct” (1990, 34). This is a common
misconception, for which Kaplan assumes some of the blame. Referring to his
characterization, at the beginning of “Demonstratives,” of direct-reference
theories as those on which “certain singular terms refer directly without
mediation of Fregean Sinn” (1977, 483), he explains in his
“Afterthoughts” that direct reference does not “mean that nothing mediates the
relation between the linguistic expression and the individual” (1989, 568).
That, he says, is “a wildly implausible idea.” Rather, it should be understood
that “the ‘direct’ in ‘direct reference’ means unmediated by any propositional
component, not unmediated simpliciter” (1989, 569).
Kaplan also points out that not all rigid designators are directly referential, e.g., ‘the cube root of 27,’ and that the rigid designators that are directly referential are rigid because they are directly referential (1977, 492-97). They determine the same reference with respect to every circumstance because the reference is fixed prior to the circumstance