philosophers of the twentieth century, and regarded by some as the
most important since Immanuel Kant. His early work was influenced by
that of Arthur Schopenhauer and, especially, by his teacher Bertrand
Russell and by Gottlob Frege, who became something of a friend. This
work culminated in the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, the only
philosophy book that Wittgenstein published during his lifetime. It
claimed to solve all the major problems of philosophy and was held in
especially high esteem by the anti-metaphysical logical positivists.
The Tractatus is based on the idea that philosophical problems arise
from misunderstandings of the logic of language, and it tries to show
what this logic is. Wittgenstein's later work, principally his
Philosophical Investigations, shares this concern with logic and
language, but takes a different, less technical, approach to
philosophical problems. This book helped to inspire so-called ordinary
language philosophy. This style of doing philosophy has fallen
somewhat out of favor, but Wittgenstein's work on rule-following and
private language is still considered important, and his later
philosophy is influential in a growing number of fields outside
philosophy.
1. Life
Ludwig Josef Johann Wittgenstein, born on April 26th 1889 in Vienna,
Austria, was a charismatic enigma. He has been something of a cult
figure but shunned publicity and even built an isolated hut in Norway
to live in complete seclusion. His sexuality was ambiguous but he was
probably gay; how actively so is still a matter of controversy. His
life seems to have been dominated by an obsession with moral and
philosophical perfection, summed up in the subtitle of Ray Monk's
excellent biography Wittgenstein: The Duty of Genius.
His concern with moral perfection led Wittgenstein at one point to
insist on confessing to several people various sins, including that of
allowing others to underestimate the extent of his 'Jewishness'. His
father Karl Wittgenstein's parents were born Jewish but converted to
Protestantism and his mother Leopoldine (nee Kalmus) was Catholic, but
her father was of Jewish descent. Wittgenstein himself was baptized in
a Catholic church and was given a Catholic burial, although between
baptism and burial he was neither a practicing nor a believing
Catholic.
The Wittgenstein family was large and wealthy. Karl Wittgenstein was
one of the most successful businessmen in the Austro-Hungarian Empire,
leading the iron and steel industry there. The Wittgensteins' home
attracted people of culture, especially musicians, including the
composer Johannes Brahms, who was a friend of the family. Music
remained important to Wittgenstein throughout his life. So did darker
matters. Ludwig was the youngest of eight children, and of his four
brothers, three committed suicide.
As for his career, Wittgenstein studied mechanical engineering in
Berlin and in 1908 went to Manchester, England to do research in
aeronautics, experimenting with kites. His interest in engineering led
to an interest in mathematics which in turn got him thinking about
philosophical questions about the foundations of mathematics. He
visited the mathematician and philosopher Gottlob Frege (1848-1925),
who recommended that he study with Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) in
Cambridge. At Cambridge Wittgenstein greatly impressed Russell and
G.E. Moore (1873- 1958), and began work on logic.
When his father died in 1913 Wittgenstein inherited a fortune, which
he quickly gave away. When war broke out the next year, he volunteered
for the Austrian army. He continued his philosophical work and won
several medals for bravery during the war. The result of his thinking
on logic was the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus which was eventually
published in English in 1922 with Russell's help. This was the only
book Wittgenstein published during his lifetime. Having thus, in his
opinion, solved all the problems of philosophy, Wittgenstein became an
elementary school teacher in rural Austria, where his approach was
strict and unpopular, but apparently effective. He spent 1926-28
meticulously designing and building an austere house in Vienna for his
sister Gretl.
In 1929 he returned to Cambridge to teach at Trinity College,
recognizing that in fact he had more work to do in philosophy. He
became professor of philosophy at Cambridge in 1939. During World War
II he worked as a hospital porter in London and as a research
technician in Newcastle. After the war he returned to university
teaching but resigned his professorship in 1947 to concentrate on
writing. Much of this he did in Ireland, preferring isolated rural
places for his work. By 1949 he had written all the material that was
published after his death as Philosophical Investigations, arguably
his most important work. He spent the last two years of his life in
Vienna, Oxford and Cambridge and kept working until he died of
prostate cancer in Cambridge in April 1951. His work from these last
years has been published as On Certainty. His last words were, "Tell
them I've had a wonderful life."
2. Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus
Wittgenstein told Ludwig von Ficker that the point of the Tractatus
was ethical. In the preface to the book he says that its value
consists in two things: "that thoughts are expressed in it" and "that
it shows how little is achieved when these problems are solved." The
problems he refers to are the problems of philosophy defined, we may
suppose, by the work of Frege and Russell, and perhaps also
Schopenhauer. At the end of the book Wittgenstein says "My
propositions serve as elucidations in the following way: anyone who
understands me eventually recognizes them as nonsensical" [emphasis
added]. What to make of the Tractatus, its author, and the
propositions it contains, then, is no easy matter.
The book certainly does not seem to be about ethics. It consists of
numbered propositions in seven sets. Proposition 1.2 belongs to the
first set and is a comment on proposition 1. Proposition 1.21 is about
proposition 1.2, and so on. The seventh set contains only one
proposition, the famous "What we cannot speak about we must pass over
in silence."
Some important and representative propositions from the book are these:
1 The world is all that is the case.
4.01 A proposition is a picture of reality.
4.0312 …My fundamental idea is that the 'logical constants' are
not representatives; that there can be no representatives of the logic
of facts.
4.121 …Propositions show the logical form of reality. They display it.
4.1212 What can be shown, cannot be said.
4.5 …The general form of a proposition is: This is how things stand.
5.43 …all the propositions of logic say the same thing, to wit nothing.
5.4711 To give the essence of a proposition means to give the
essence of all description, and thus the essence of the world.
5.6 The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.
Here and elsewhere in the Tractatus Wittgenstein seems to be saying
that the essence of the world and of life is: This is how things are.
One is tempted to add "–deal with it." That seems to fit what Cora
Diamond has called his "accept and endure" ethics, but he says that
the propositions of the Tractatus are meaningless, not profound
insights, ethical or otherwise. What are we to make of this?
Many commentators ignore or dismiss what Wittgenstein said about his
work and its aims, and instead look for regular philosophical theories
in his work. The most famous of these in the Tractatus is the "picture
theory" of meaning. According to this theory propositions are
meaningful insofar as they picture states of affairs or matters of
empirical fact. Anything normative, supernatural or (one might say)
metaphysical must, it therefore seems, be nonsense. This has been an
influential reading of parts of the Tractatus. Unfortunately, this
reading leads to serious problems since by its own lights the
Tractatus' use of words like "object," "reality" and "world" is
illegitimate. These concepts are purely formal or a priori. A
statement such as "There are objects in the world" does not picture a
state of affairs. Rather it is, as it were, presupposed by the notion
of a state of affairs. The "picture theory" therefore denies sense to
just the kind of statements of which the Tractatus is composed, to the
framework supporting the picture theory itself. In this way the
Tractatus pulls the rug out from under its own feet.
If the propositions of the Tractatus are nonsensical then they surely
cannot put forward the picture theory of meaning, or any other theory.
Nonsense is nonsense. However, this is not to say that the Tractatus
itself is without value. Wittgenstein's aim seems to have been to show
up as nonsense the things that philosophers (himself included) are
tempted to say. Philosophical theories, he suggests, are attempts to
answer questions that are not really questions at all (they are
nonsense), or to solve problems that are not really problems. He says
in proposition 4.003 that:
Most of the propositions and questions of philosophers arise from
our failure to understand the logic of our language. (They belong to
the same class as the question whether the good is more or less
identical than the beautiful.) And it is not surprising that the
deepest problems are in fact not problems at all.
Philosophers, then, have the task of presenting the logic of our
language clearly. This will not solve important problems but it will
show that some things that we take to be important problems are really
not problems at all. The gain is not wisdom but an absence of
confusion. This is not a rejection of philosophy or logic.
Wittgenstein took philosophical puzzlement very seriously indeed, but
he thought that it needed dissolving by analysis rather than solving
by the production of theories. The Tractatus presents itself as a key
for untying a series of knots both profound and highly technical.
3. Ethics and Religion
Wittgenstein had a lifelong interest in religion and claimed to see
every problem from a religious point of view, but never committed
himself to any formal religion. His various remarks on ethics also
suggest a particular point of view, and Wittgenstein often spoke of
ethics and religion together. This point of view or attitude can be
seen in the four main themes that run through Wittgenstein's writings
on ethics and religion: goodness, value or meaning are not to be found
in the world; living the right way involves acceptance of or agreement
with the world, or life, or God's will, or fate; one who lives this
way will see the world as a miracle; there is no answer to the problem
of life–the solution is the disappearance of the problem.
Certainly Wittgenstein worried about being morally good or even
perfect, and he had great respect for sincere religious conviction,
but he also said, in his 1929 lecture on ethics, that "the tendency of
all men who ever tried to write or talk Ethics or Religion was to run
against the boundaries of language," i.e. to talk or write nonsense.
This gives support to the view that Wittgenstein believed in mystical
truths that somehow cannot be expressed meaningfully but that are of
the utmost importance. It is hard to conceive, though, what these
'truths' might be.
An alternative view is that Wittgenstein believed that there is really
nothing to say about ethics. This would explain why he wrote less and
less about ethics as his life wore on. His "accept and endure"
attitude and belief in going "the bloody hard way" are evident in all
his work, especially after the Tractatus. Wittgenstein wants his
reader not to think (too much) but to look at the "language games"
(any practices that involve language) that give rise to philosophical
(personal, existential, spiritual) problems. His approach to such
problems is painstaking, thorough, open-eyed and receptive. His
ethical attitude is an integral part of his method and shows itself as
such.
But there is little to say about such an attitude short of
recommending it. In Culture and Value p.29e Wittgenstein writes:
Rules of life are dressed up in pictures. And these pictures can
only serve to describe what we are to do, not justify it. Because they
could provide a justification only if they held good in other respects
as well. I can say: "Thank these bees for their honey as though they
were kind people who have prepared it for you"; that is intelligible
and describes how I should like you to conduct yourself. But I cannot
say: "Thank them because, look, how kind they are!"–since the next
moment they may sting you.
In a world of contingency one cannot prove that a particular attitude
is the correct one to take. If this suggests relativism, it should be
remembered that it too is just one more attitude or point of view, and
one without the rich tradition and accumulated wisdom, philosophical
reasoning and personal experience of, say, orthodox Christianity or
Judaism. Indeed crude relativism, the universal judgement that one
cannot make universal judgements, is self- contradictory. Whether
Wittgenstein's views suggest a more sophisticated form of relativism
is another matter, but the spirit of relativism seems far from
Wittgenstein's conservatism and absolute intolerance of his own moral
shortcomings. Compare the tolerance that motivates relativism with
Wittgenstein's assertion to Russell that he would prefer "by far" an
organization dedicated to war and slavery to one dedicated to peace
and freedom. (This assertion, however, should not be taken literally:
Wittgenstein was no war-monger and even recommended letting oneself be
massacred rather than taking part in hand-to-hand combat. It was
apparently the complacency, and perhaps the self-righteousness, of
Russell's liberal cause that Wittgenstein objected to.)
With regard to religion, Wittgenstein is often considered a kind of
Anti-Realist (see below for more on this). He opposed interpretations
of religion that emphasize doctrine or philosophical arguments
intended to prove God's existence, but was greatly drawn to religious
rituals and symbols, and considered becoming a priest. He likened the
ritual of religion to a great gesture, as when one kisses a
photograph. This is not based on the false belief that the person in
the photograph will feel the kiss or return it, nor is it based on any
other belief. Neither is the kiss just a substitute for a particular
phrase, like "I love you." Like the kiss, religious activity does
express an attitude, but it is not just the expression of an attitude
in the sense that several other forms of expression might do just as
well. There might be no substitute that would do. The same might be
said of the whole language-game (or games) of religion, but this is a
controversial point. If religious utterances, such as "God exists,"
are treated as gestures of a certain kind then this seems not to be
treating them as literal statements. Many religious believers,
including Wittgensteinian ones, would object strongly to this. There
is room, though, for a good deal of sophisticated disagreement about
what it means to take a statement literally. For instance, Charles
Taylor's view, roughly, is that the real is whatever will not go away.
If we cannot reduce talk about God to anything else, or replace it, or
prove it false, then perhaps God is as real as anything else.
4. Conception of Philosophy
Wittgenstein's view of what philosophy is, or should be, changed
little over his life. In the Tractatus he says at 4.111 that
"philosophy is not one of the natural sciences," and at 4.112
"Philosophy aims at the logical clarification of thoughts." Philosophy
is not descriptive but elucidatory. Its aim is to clear up muddle and
confusion. It follows that philosophers should not concern themselves
so much with what is actual, keeping up with the latest
popularizations of science, say, which Wittgenstein despised. The
philosopher's proper concern is with what is possible, or rather with
what is conceivable. This depends on our concepts and the ways they
fit together as seen in language. What is conceivable and what is not,
what makes sense and what does not, depends on the rules of language,
of grammar.
In Philosophical Investigations Sect. 90 Wittgenstein says:
Our investigation is a grammatical one. Such an investigation
sheds light on our problem by clearing misunderstandings away.
Misunderstandings concerning the use of words, caused, among other
things, by certain analogies between the forms of expression in
different regions of language.
The similarities between the sentences "I'll keep it in mind" and
"I'll keep it in this box," for instance, (along with many others) can
lead one to think of the mind as a thing something like a box with
contents of its own. The nature of this box and its mental contents
can then seem very mysterious. Wittgenstein suggests that one way, at
least, to deal with such mysteries is to recall the different things
one says about minds, memories, thoughts and so on, in a variety of
contexts.
What one says, or what people in general say, can change. Ways of life
and uses of language change, so meanings change, but not utterly and
instantaneously. Things shift and evolve, but rarely if ever so
drastically that we lose all grip on meaning. So there is no timeless
essence of at least some and perhaps all concepts, but we still
understand one another well enough most of the time.
When nonsense is spoken or written, or when something just seems
fishy, we can sniff it out. The road out of confusion can be a long
and difficult one, hence the need for constant attention to detail and
particular examples rather than generalizations, which tend to be
vague and therefore potentially misleading. The slower the route, the
surer the safety at the end of it. That is why Wittgenstein said that
in philosophy the winner is the one who finishes last. But we cannot
escape language or the confusions to which it gives rise, except by
dying. In the meantime, Wittgenstein offers four main methods to avoid
philosophical confusion, as described by Norman Malcolm: describing
circumstances in which a seemingly problematic expression might
actually be used in everyday life, comparing our use of words with
imaginary language games, imagining fictitious natural history, and
explaining psychologically the temptation to use a certain expression
inappropriately.
The complex, intertwined relationship between a language and the form
of life that goes with it means that problems arising from language
cannot just be set aside–they infect our lives, making us live in
confusion. We might find our way back to the right path, but there is
no guarantee that we will never again stray. In this sense there can
be no progress in philosophy.
In 1931 Wittgenstein described his task thus:
Language sets everyone the same traps; it is an immense network of
easily accessible wrong turnings. And so we watch one man after
another walking down the same paths and we know in advance where he
will branch off, where walk straight on without noticing the side
turning, etc. etc. What I have to do then is erect signposts at all
the junctions where there are wrong turnings so as to help people past
the danger points.
But such signposts are all that philosophy can offer and there is no
certainty that they will be noticed or followed correctly. And we
should remember that a signpost belongs in the context of a particular
problem area. It might be no help at all elsewhere, and should not be
treated as dogma. So philosophy offers no truths, no theories, nothing
exciting, but mainly reminders of what we all know. This is not a
glamorous role, but it is difficult and important. It requires an
almost infinite capacity for taking pains (which is one definition of
genius) and could have enormous implications for anyone who is drawn
to philosophical contemplation or who is misled by bad philosophical
theories. This applies not only to professional philosophers but to
any people who stray into philosophical confusion, perhaps not even
realizing that their problems are philosophical and not, say,
scientific.
5. Meaning
Sect. 43 of Wittgenstein's Philosophical Investigations says that:
"For a large class of cases–though not for all–in which we employ the
word "meaning" it can be defined thus: the meaning of a word is its
use in the language."
It is quite clear that here Wittgenstein is not offering the general
theory that "meaning is use," as he is sometimes interpreted as doing.
The main rival views that Wittgenstein warns against are that the
meaning of a word is some object that it names–in which case the
meaning of a word could be destroyed, stolen or locked away, which is
nonsense–and that the meaning of a word is some psychological
feeling–in which case each user of a word could mean something
different by it, having a different feeling, and communication would
be difficult if not impossible.
Knowing the meaning of a word can involve knowing many things: to what
objects the word refers (if any), whether it is slang or not, what
part of speech it is, whether it carries overtones, and if so what
kind they are, and so on. To know all this, or to know enough to get
by, is to know the use. And generally knowing the use means knowing
the meaning. Philosophical questions about consciousness, for example,
then, should be responded to by looking at the various uses we make of
the word "consciousness." Scientific investigations into the brain are
not directly relevant to this inquiry (although they might be
indirectly relevant if scientific discoveries led us to change our use
of such words). The meaning of any word is a matter of what we do with
our language, not something hidden inside anyone's mind or brain. This
is not an attack on neuroscience. It is merely distinguishing
philosophy (which is properly concerned with linguistic or conceptual
analysis) from science (which is concerned with discovering facts).
One exception to the meaning-is-use rule of thumb is given in
Philosophical Investigations Sect.561, where Wittgenstein says that
"the word "is" is used with two different meanings (as the copula and
as the sign of equality)" but that its meaning is not its use. That is
to say, "is" has not one complex use (including both "Water is clear"
and "Water is H2O") and therefore one complex meaning, but two quite
distinct uses and meanings. It is an accident that the same word has
these two uses. It is not an accident that we use the word "car" to
refer to both Fords and Hondas. But what is accidental and what is
essential to a concept depends on us, on how we use it.
This is not completely arbitrary, however. Depending on one's
environment, one's physical needs and desires, one's emotions, one's
sensory capacities, and so on, different concepts will be more natural
or useful to one. This is why "forms of life" are so important to
Wittgenstein. What matters to you depends on how you live (and vice
versa), and this shapes your experience. So if a lion could speak,
Wittgenstein says, we would not be able to understand it. We might
realize that "roar" meant zebra, or that "roar, roar" meant lame
zebra, but we would not understand lion ethics, politics, aesthetic
taste, religion, humor and such like, if lions have these things. We
could not honestly say "I know what you mean" to a lion. Understanding
another involves empathy, which requires the kind of similarity that
we just do not have with lions, and that many people do not have with
other human beings.
When a person says something what he or she means depends not only on
what is said but also on the context in which it is said. Importance,
point, meaning are given by the surroundings. Words, gestures,
expressions come alive, as it were, only within a language game, a
culture, a form of life. If a picture, say, means something then it
means so to somebody. Its meaning is not an objective property of the
picture in the way that its size and shape are. The same goes of any
mental picture. Hence Wittgenstein's remark that "If God had looked
into our minds he would not have been able to see there whom we were
speaking of." Any internal image would need interpretation. If I
interpret my thought as one of Hitler and God sees it as Charlie
Chaplin, who is right? Which of the two famous contemporaries of
Wittgenstein's I mean shows itself in the way I behave, the things I
do and say. It is in this that the use, the meaning, of my thought or
mental picture lies. "The arrow points only in the application that a
living being makes of it."
6. Rules and Private Language
Without sharing certain attitudes towards the things around us,
sharing a sense of relevance and responding in similar ways,
communication would be impossible. It is important, for instance, that
nearly all of us agree nearly all the time on what colors things are.
Such agreement is part of our concept of color, Wittgenstein suggests.
Regularity of the use of such concepts and agreement in their
application is part of language, not a logically necessary
precondition of it. We cannot separate the life in which there is such
agreement from our concept of color. Imagine a different form or way
of life and you imagine a different language with different concepts,
different rules and a different logic.
This raises the question of the relation between language and forms or
ways of life. For instance, could just one person have a language of
his or her own? To imagine an individual solitary from birth is
scarcely to imagine a form of life at all, but more like just
imagining a life- form. Moreover, language involves rules establishing
certain linguistic practices. Rules of grammar express the fact that
it is our practice to say this (e.g. "half past twelve") and not that
(e.g. "half to one"). Agreement is essential to such practices. Could
a solitary individual, then, engage in any practice, including
linguistic ones? With whom could he or she agree? This is a
controversial issue in the interpretation of Wittgenstein. Gordon
Baker and P.M.S. Hacker hold that such a solitary man could speak his
own language, follow his own rules, and so on, agreeing, over time,
with himself in his judgements and behavior. Orthodoxy is against this
interpretation, however.
Norman Malcolm has written that "If you conceive of an individual who
has been in solitude his whole life long, then you have cut away the
background of instruction, correction, acceptance–in short, the
circumstances in which a rule is given, enforced, and followed." Mere
regularity of behavior does not constitute following rules, whether
they be rules of grammar or any other kind. A car that never starts in
cold weather does not follow the rule "Don't start when it's cold,"
nor does a songbird follow a rule in singing the same song every day.
Whether a solitary-from-birth individual would ever do anything that
we would properly call following a rule is at least highly doubtful.
How could he or she give himself or herself a rule to follow without
language? And how could he or she get a language? Inventing one would
involve inventing meaning, as Rush Rhees has argued, and this sounds
incoherent. (The most famous debate about this was between Rhees and
A.J. Ayer. Unfortunately for Wittgenstein, Ayer is generally
considered to have won.) Alternatively, perhaps the Crusoe-like figure
just does behave, sound, etc. just like a native speaker of, say,
English. But this is to imagine either a freakish automaton, not a
human being, or else a miracle. In the case of a miracle, Wittgenstein
says, it is significant that we imagine not just the pseudo- Crusoe
but also God. In the case of the automatic speaker, we might adopt
what Daniel Dennett calls an "intentional stance" towards him, calling
what he does "speaking English," but he is obviously not doing what
the rest of us English-speakers–who learned the language, rather than
being born speaking it, and who influence and are influenced by others
in our use of the language–do.
The debate about solitary individuals is sometimes referred to as the
debate about "private language." Wittgenstein uses this expression in
another context, however, to name a language that refers to private
sensations. Such a private language by definition cannot be understood
by anyone other than its user (who alone knows the sensations to which
it refers). Wittgenstein invites us to imagine a man who decides to
write 'S' in his diary whenever he has a certain sensation. This
sensation has no natural expression, and 'S' cannot be defined in
words. The only judge of whether 'S' is used correctly is the inventor
of 'S'. The only criterion of correctness is whether a sensation feels
the same to him or her. There are no criteria for its being the same
other than its seeming the same. So he writes 'S' when he feels like
it. He might as well be doodling. The so-called 'private language' is
no language at all. The point of this is not to show that a private
language is impossible but to show that certain things one might want
to say about language are ultimately incoherent. If we really try to
picture a world of private objects (sensations) and inner acts of
meaning and so on, we see that what we picture is either regular
public language or incomprehensible behavior (the man might as well
quack as say or write 'S').
This does not, as has been alleged, make Wittgenstein a behaviorist.
He does not deny the existence of sensations or experiences. Pains,
tickles, itches, etc. are all part of human life, of course. At
Philosophical Investigations Sect. 293 Wittgenstein says that "if we
construe the grammar of the expression of sensation on the model of
'object and designation' the object drops out of consideration as
irrelevant." This suggests not that pains and so on are irrelevant but
that we should not construe the grammar of the expression of sensation
on the model of 'object and designation'. If we want to understand a
concept like pain we should not think of a pain as a private object
referred to somehow by the public word "pain." A pain is not "a
something," just as love, democracy and strength are not things, but
it is no more "a nothing" than they are either (see Philosophical
Investigations Sect. 304). Saying this is hardly satisfactory, but
there is no simple answer to the question "What is pain?" Wittgenstein
offers not an answer but a kind of philosophical 'therapy' intended to
clear away what can seem so obscure. To judge the value of this
therapy, the reader will just have to read Wittgenstein's work for
herself.
The best known work on Wittgenstein's writings on this whole topic is
Saul A. Kripke's Wittgenstein on Rules and Private Language. Kripke is
struck by the idea that anything might count as continuing a series or
following a rule in the same way. It all depends on how the rule or
series is interpreted. And any rule for interpretation will itself be
subject to a variety of interpretations, and so on. What counts as
following a rule correctly, then, is not determined somehow by the
rule itself but by what the relevant linguistic community accepts as
following the rule. So whether two plus two equals four depends not on
some abstract, extra-human rule of addition, but on what we, and
especially the people we appoint as experts, accept. Truth conditions
are replaced by assertability conditions. To put it crudely, what
counts is not what is true or right (in some sense independent of the
community of language users), but what you can get away with or get
others to accept.
Kripke's theory is clear and ingenious, and owes a lot to
Wittgenstein, but is doubtful as an interpretation of Wittgenstein.
Kripke himself presents the argument not as Wittgenstein's, nor as his
own, but as "Wittgenstein's argument as it struck Kripke" (Kripke
p.5). That the argument is not Wittgenstein's is suggested by the fact
that it is a theory, and Wittgenstein rejected philosophical theories,
and by the fact that the argument relies heavily on the first sentence
of Philosophical Investigations Sect. 201: "This was our paradox: no
course of action could be determined by a rule, because every course
of action can be made out to accord with the rule." For Kripke's
theory as a reading of Wittgenstein, it is not good that the very next
paragraph begins, "It can be seen that there is a misunderstanding
here…" Still, it is no easy matter to see just where Wittgenstein does
diverge from the hybrid person often referred to as 'Kripkenstein'.
The key perhaps lies later in the same paragraph, where Wittgenstein
writes that "there is a way of grasping a rule which is not an
interpretation". Many scholars, notably Baker and Hacker, have gone to
great lengths to explain why Kripke is mistaken. Since Kripke is so
much easier to understand, one of the best ways into Wittgenstein's
philosophy is to study Kripke and his Wittgensteinian critics. At the
very least, Kripke introduces his readers well to issues that were of
great concern to Wittgenstein and shows their importance.
7. Realism and Anti-Realism
Wittgenstein's place in the debate about philosophical Realism and
Anti-Realism is an interesting one. His emphasis on language and human
behavior, practices, etc. makes him a prime candidate for Anti-Realism
in many people's eyes. He has even been accused of linguistic
idealism, the idea that language is the ultimate reality. The laws of
physics, say, would by this theory just be laws of language, the rules
of the language game of physics. Anti-Realist scepticism of this kind
has proved quite popular in the philosophy of science and in theology,
as well as more generally in metaphysics and ethics.
On the other hand, there is a school of Wittgensteinian Realism, which
is less well known. Wittgenstein's views on religion, for instance,
are often compared with those of Simone Weil, who was a Platonist of
sorts. Sabina Lovibond argues for a kind of Wittgensteinian Realism in
ethics in her Realism and Imagination in Ethics and the influence of
Wittgenstein is clear in Raimond Gaita's Good and Evil: An Absolute
Conception. However, one should not go too far with the idea of
Wittgensteinian Realism. Lovibond, for instance, equates objectivity
with intersubjectivity (universal agreement), so her Realism is of a
controversial kind.
Both Realism and Anti-Realism, though, are theories, or schools of
theories, and Wittgenstein explicitly rejects the advocacy of theories
in philosophy. This does not prove that he practiced what he preached,
but it should give us pause. It is also worth noting that supporters
of Wittgenstein often claim that he was neither a Realist nor an
Anti-Realist, at least with regard to metaphysics. There is something
straightforwardly unWittgensteinian about the Realist's belief that
language/thought can be compared with reality and found to 'agree'
with it. The Anti-Realist says that we could not get outside our
thought or language (or form of life or language games) to compare the
two. But Wittgenstein was concerned not with what we can or cannot do,
but with what makes sense. If metaphysical Realism is incoherent then
so is its opposite. The nonsensical utterance "laubgefraub" is not to
be contradicted by saying, "No, it is not the case that laubgefraub,"
or "Laubgefraub is a logical impossibility." If Realism is truly
incoherent, as Wittgenstein would say, then so is Anti-Realism.
8. Certainty
Wittgenstein's last writings were on the subject of certainty. He
wrote in response to G.E. Moore's attack on scepticism about the
external world. Moore had held up one hand, said "Here is one hand,"
then held up his other hand and said "and here is another." His point
was that things outside the mind really do exist, we know they do, and
that no grounds for scepticism could be strong enough to undermine
this commonsense knowledge.
Wittgenstein did not defend scepticism, but questioned Moore's claim
to know that he had two hands. Such 'knowledge' is not something that
one is ever taught, or finds out, or proves. It is more like a
background against which we come to know other things. Wittgenstein
compares this background to the bed of a river. This river bed
provides the support, the context, in which claims to know various
things have meaning. The bed itself is not something we can know or
doubt. In normal circumstances no sane person doubts how many hands he
or she has. But unusual circumstances can occur and what was part of
the river bed can shift and become part of the river. I might, for
instance, wake up dazed after a terrible accident and wonder whether
my hands, which I cannot feel, are still there or not. This is quite
different, though, from Descartes's pretended doubt as to whether he
has a body at all. Such radical doubt is really not doubt at all, from
Wittgenstein's point of view. And so it cannot be dispelled by a proof
that the body exists, as Moore tried to do.
9. Continuity
Wittgenstein is generally considered to have changed his thinking
considerably over his philosophical career. His early work culminated
in the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus with its picture theory of
language and mysticism, according to this view. Then there came a
transitional middle period when he first returned to philosophical
work after realizing that he had not solved all the problems of
philosophy. This period led to his mature, later period which gave us
the Philosophical Investigations and On Certainty.
There certainly are marked changes in Wittgenstein's work, but the
differences between his early and late work can be exaggerated. Two
central discontinuities in his work are these: whereas the Tractatus
is concerned with the general form of the proposition, the general
nature of metaphysics, and so on, in his later work Wittgenstein is
very critical of "the craving for generality"; and, in the Tractatus
Wittgenstein speaks of the central problems of philosophy, whereas the
later work treats no problems as central. Another obvious difference
is in Wittgenstein's style. The Tractatus is a carefully constructed
set of short propositions. The Investigations, though also consisting
of numbered sections, is longer, less clearly organized and more
rambling, at least in appearance. This reflects Wittgenstein's
rejection of the idea that there are just a few central problems in
philosophy, and his insistence on paying attention to particular
cases, going over the rough ground.
On the other hand, the Tractatus itself says that its propositions are
nonsense and thus, in a sense (not easy to understand), rejects
itself. The fact that the later work also criticizes the Tractatus is
not, therefore, proof of discontinuity in Wittgenstein's work. The
main change may have been one of method and style. Problems are
investigated one at a time, although many overlap. There is not a
full-frontal assault on the problem or problems of philosophy.
Otherwise, the Tractatus and the Philosophical Investigations attack
much the same problems; they just do so in different ways.
10. Wittgenstein in History
Wittgenstein's place in the history of philosophy is a peculiar one.
His philosophical education was unconventional (going from engineering
to working first-hand with one of the greatest philosophers of his day
in Bertrand Russell) and he seems never to have felt the need to go
back and make a thorough study of the history of philosophy. He was
interested in Plato, admired Leibniz, but was most influenced by the
work of Schopenhauer, Russell and Frege.
From Schopenhauer (perhaps) Wittgenstein got his interest in solipsism
and in the ethical nature of the relation between the will and the
world. Schopenhauer's saying that "The world is my idea," (from The
World as Will and Idea) is echoed in such remarks as "The world is my
world" (from Tractatus 5.62). What Wittgenstein means here, where he
also says that what the solipsist means is quite correct, but that it
cannot be said, is obscure and controversial. Some have taken him to
mean that solipsism is true but for some reason cannot be expressed.
H.O. Mounce, in his valuable Wittgenstein's Tractatus: An
Introduction, says that this interpretation is surely wrong. Mounce's
view is that Wittgenstein holds solipsism itself to be a confusion,
but one that sometimes arises when one tries to express the fact that
"I have a point of view on the world which is without neighbours."
(Mounce p.91) Wittgenstein was not a solipsist but he remained
interested in solipsism and related problems of scepticism throughout
his life.
Frege was a mathematician as well as a logician. He was interested in
questions of truth and falsehood, sense and reference (a distinction
he made famous) and in the relation between objects and concepts,
propositions and thoughts. But his interest was in logic and
mathematics exclusively, not in psychology or ethics. His great
contribution to logic was to introduce various mathematical elements
into formal logic, including quantification, functions, arguments (in
the mathematical sense of something substituted for a variable in a
function) and the value of a function. In logic this value, according
to Frege, is always either the True or the False, hence the notion of
truth-value. Both Frege and Russell wanted to show that mathematics is
an extension of logic. Undoubtedly both men influenced Wittgenstein
enormously, especially since he worked first-hand with Russell. Some
measure of their importance to him can be seen in the preface to the
Tractatus, where Wittgenstein says that he is "indebted to Frege's
great works and to the writings of my friend Mr Bertrand Russell for
much of the stimulation of my thoughts." For some insight into whether
Frege or Russell had the greater influence one can consider whether
one would rather be recognized for his or her great works or for
simply being a friend.
In turn Wittgenstein influenced twentieth century philosophy
enormously. The Vienna Circle logical positivists were greatly
impressed by what they found in the Tractatus, especially the idea
that logic and mathematics are analytic, the verifiability principle
and the idea that philosophy is an activity aimed at clarification,
not the discovery of facts. Wittgenstein, though, said that it was
what is not in the Tractatus that matters most.
The other group of philosophers most obviously indebted to
Wittgenstein is the ordinary language or Oxford school of thought.
These thinkers were more interested in Wittgenstein's later work and
its attention to grammar.
Wittgenstein is thus a doubly key figure in the development and
history of analytic philosophy, but he has become rather unfashionable
because of his anti-theoretical, anti- scientism stance, because of
the difficulty of his work, and perhaps also because he has been
little understood. Similarities between Wittgenstein's work and that
of Derrida are now generating interest among continental philosophers,
and Wittgenstein may yet prove to be a driving force behind the
emerging post-analytic school of philosophy.
11. References and Further Reading
A full bibliographical guide to works by and on Wittgenstein would
fill a whole book, namely Wittgenstein: A Bibliographical Guide by
Guido Frongia and Brian McGuinness (Basil Blackwell, Oxford 1990).
Obviously this is already out of date. Instead of a complete guide,
therefore, what follows is a list of some of Wittgenstein's main
works, some of the best secondary material on his work, and a few
other works chosen for their accessibility and entertainment value,
for want of a better expression.
a. Wittgenstein's Main Works
* Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, translated by D.F. Pears and
B.F. McGuinness (Routledge and Kegan Paul, London 1961).
o His early classic.
* The Blue and Brown Books, (Basil Blackwell, Oxford 1969).
o From his middle period, these are preliminary studies for
his later work.
* Philosophical Investigations, translated by G.E.M. Anscombe
(Basil Blackwell, Oxford 1963).
o His late classic.
* On Certainty, edited by G.E.M. Anscombe and G.H. von Wright,
translated by Denis Paul and G.E.M. Anscombe (Basil Blackwell, Oxford
1979).
o Like many of Wittgenstein's works, this was compiled after
his death from notes he had made. In this case the notes come from the
last year and a half of his life.Works of more general interest by
Wittgenstein include these:
* Culture and Value, translated by Peter Winch (Basil Blackwell,
Oxford 1980).
o These are notes from throughout Wittgenstein's life
dealing with all kinds of topics hinted at by its title, including
music, literature, philosophy, religion and the value of silliness.
* Lectures and Conversations on Aesthetics, Psychology and
Religious Belief, edited by Cyril Barrett (Basil Blackwell, Oxford
1966).
o For 'psychology' read 'Freud', otherwise the title is
explanation enough. Hilary Putnam has recommended the section on
religion as a valuable introduction to Wittgenstein's philosophy as a
whole.
b. Some Biographies of Wittgenstein
* Ray Monk Ludwig Wittgenstein: The Duty of Genius (Jonathan Cape,
London 1990).
o Full of enlightening detail.
* Norman Malcolm Ludwig Wittgenstein: A Memoir (Oxford University
Press, Oxford and New York 1984).
o Shorter and includes material from G.H. von Wright as
well. Two of the best books on the Tractatus are:
* G.E.M. Anscombe An Introduction to Wittgenstein's Tractatus
(University of Pennsylvania Press, Philadelphia 1971).
o Emphasizes the importance of Frege and is notoriously difficult
* H.O. Mounce Wittgenstein's Tractatus: An Introduction (Basil
Blackwell, Oxford 1981).
o Lighter but more reader-friendly.
c. Secondary Works
A good rule of thumb for picking secondary material on Wittgenstein is
to trust Wittgenstein's own judgement. He chose G.E.M. Anscombe, Rush
Rhees and G.H. von Wright to understand and deal with his unpublished
writings after his death. Anything by one of these people should be
fairly reliable. More contentiously, I would say that the best people
writing on Wittgenstein today are James Conant and Cora Diamond. Other
books referred to in the text above or of special note are these:
* O.K. Bouwsma Wittgenstein: Conversations 1949-1951, edited by
J.L. Craft and Ronald E. Hustwit (Hackett, Indianapolis 1986).
o A seemingly little read slim volume that includes records
of Wittgenstein's comments on such diverse and interesting topics as
Descartes, utilitarianism and the word 'cheeseburger'.
* Stanley Cavell The Claim of Reason: Wittgenstein, Skepticism,
Morality, and Tragedy (Oxford University Press, Oxford and New York
1979).
o A long, rich, challenging classic.
* Cora Diamond The Realistic Spirit: Wittgenstein, Philosophy, and
the Mind (MIT, Cambridge, Massachusetts 1991).
o A collection of essays of varying degrees of accessibility
on Frege, Wittgenstein and ethics, united by their Wittgensteinian
spirit.
* M.O'C. Drury The Danger of Words (Thoemmes Press, Bristol, U.K.
and Washington, D.C. 1996).
o A classic, including discussions of issues in psychiatry
and religion by a friend of Wittgenstein's.
* Paul Engelmann Letters from Wittgenstein with a memoir (Basil
Blackwell, Oxford 1967).
o Includes discussions by Wittgenstein and his friend
Engelmann on the Tractatus, religion, literature and culture.
* Saul A. Kripke Wittgenstein on Rules and Private Language
(Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts 1982).
o See the section on rules and private language above.
* Norman Malcolm Wittgenstein: Nothing is Hidden (Basil Blackwell,
Oxford 1986).
o One of the best accounts of Wittgenstein's philosophy from
the disreputable point of view that the Tractatus advanced theses
which are then attacked in the later work.
* Norman Malcolm Wittgenstein: A Religious Point of View?, edited
with a response by Peter Winch (Cornell University Press, Ithaca, New
York 1994).
o Malcolm basically summarizes Wittgenstein's philosophy, as
he understands it, with a special emphasis on religion. Winch then
responds, correcting Malcolm's account where necessary. The result is
a highly accessible composite overview of Wittgenstein's work from the
religious point of view, which is how Wittgenstein himself said that
he saw every problem.
No comments:
Post a Comment