Jaroslav Peregrin

Není tomu tak dávno, co se ti, kdo vzývali termín "analytická filosofie", v naší zemi jevili jako příslušníci nějaké divné sekty, kteří smysl termínu "filosofie" jakýmsi úchylným způsobem překrucují. Není-li však člověk zrovna Valihrachem, nemůže o tom, co slova znamenají, svévolně rozhodovat; a faktem je, analytická filosofie tvoří podstatnou část toho, co se ve světě pod hlavičkou "filosofie" učí a provozuje. (Já bych řekl, že dokonce většinu, ale statistické údaje samozřejmě k dispozici žádné nemám.) Během posledních zhruba deseti let se ovšem situace podstatně změnila a analytický způsob filosofování se u nás začíná široce etablovat. Existují již překlady celé řady klasických děl (Frege, Russell, Wittgenstein, Popper, ...) i těch novějších (Quine, Davidson, ...), a vznikla i celá řade původních prací. Co dosud scházelo bylo nějaké systematické historické pojednání o tom, jak tento filosofický směr vznikl, jak se vyvíjel a jak dospěl k tomu druhu otázek, který si předsevzal řešit. Tuto mezeru se nyní pokouší zaplnit kniha docenta filosofické fakulty olomoucké univerzity Lubomíra Valenty Problémy analytické filosofie

Philosophy is usually considered to be searching out the most general, and hence also the most necessary and the most eternal, truth; its central part, ontology, is often assumed to be fastening upon whatever might be "the form of the world". And because our world is the world as formed by the way we comprehend it and by the way we cope with it by means of our language, it is often assumed that its form must be brought out by the analysis of the interrelations between the meanings of our words and our statements. This is why many philosophers, and analytic philosophers in particular, say that philosophy consists in the analysis of meaning. However, to maintain that philosophy is in this way interlocked with necessary truth and with meaning is no longer a simple matter. Both these concepts are being constantly challenged. Is there, after all, something like necessary truth (pace Quine) to be captured by philosophy? Can we still maintain that there is a meaning (pace not only Quine, but also Austin, Wittgenstein and other sceptics), which can constitute the subject to philosophical analyses? And if these concepts should become endangered species, then what about philosophy?

Formal semantics is an enterprise which accounts for meaning in formal, mathematical terms, in the expectation of providing a helpful explication1 of the concept of the meaning of specific word kinds (such as logical ones), or of words and expressions generally. Its roots go back to Frege, who proposed exempting concepts, meanings of predicative expressions, from the legislation of psychology and relocating them under that of mathematics. This started a spectacular enterprise, fostered at first within formal logic and later moving into the realm of natural languages, and featuring a series of eminent scholars, from Tarski and Carnap to Montague and David Lewis. Partly independently of this, Frege set the agenda for a long-term discussion of the question of what a natural language is, his own contribution being that language should be seen not as a matter of subjective psychology, but rather as a reality objective in the sense in which mathematics is objective. His formal semantics, then, was just an expression of this conception of language. And many theoreticians now take it for granted that formal semantics is inseparably connected with a Platonist conception of language. Moreover, the more recent champions of formal semantics, Montague and David Lewis, took for granted that natural language is nothing else than a structure of the very kind envisaged by the theories of formal logicians. While Montague claims quite plainly that there is no substantial difference between formal and natural languages ("I reject the contention," he says, 1974, p. 188, "that an important theoretical difference exists between formal and natural languages"), Lewis states that it is fully correct to say that a linguistic community entertains a language in the form of a mathematical structure ("we can say", states Lewis, 1975, p..

Nová kniha Petra Koláře, Pravda a fakt (Filosofia, Praha, 2002) je věnována tématu, kterým se Kolář částečně zabýval již ve své předchozí knize: teoriím pravdivosti a zejména teorii korespondenční. Diskuse o tom, jak explikovat pojem pravdy či pravdivosti se analytickou filosofií táhnou od jejích počátků, a rozdmychány byly zejména výsledky Tarského matematických analýz tohoto pojmu1. Kolář v první části knihy probírá a srovnává hlavní kategorie těch teorií, které jsou výsledky těchto diskusí (některé z nich samozřejmě tak či onak existovaly dávno před Tarskim): dělí je na korespondenční, koherenční, pragmatistické, minimalistické, redundanční a sémantické (tou poslední je de facto původní Tarského varianta). Způsobu, jak Kolář tyto teorie vykládá, lze, myslím, vytýkat skutečně pramálo: jeho výklad je systematický, jasný a názorný. Také shrnutí na koncích jednotlivých kapitol jsou velice užitečná a dokumentují autorovu pedagogickou pečlivost. Přesto bych si k této části dovolil mít dvě drobné a jednu zásadnější připomínku. Zaprvé se mi nezdá příliš adekvátní, jak Kolář používá termíny deflacionismus a minimalismus: za deflacionistickou prohlašuje každou teorii, která rezignuje na explikaci pojmu pravdy, takže mu do této kolonky spadne jak horwichovský minimalismus, tak davidsonovský názor, že pojem pravdy nelze explikovat ne proto, že by byl triviální, ale naopak proto, že je příliš fundamentální (tady se dere na jazyk termín maximalismus). To se ale těžko slučuje s Davidsonovým výslovným odmítáním deflacionismu2. Zdá se mi, že termín deflacionismus je spíše víceméně synonymní s termínem minimalismus a ty oba se mi zdají do velké míry krýt i s redundanční teorií. Druhou drobnou výhradou je, že mi připadá škoda, že Kolář v rámci pojednávání pragmatistických teoriích zcela pominul současný pragmatismus. Škoda to je pro to, že pragmatismus v současné době zažívá velký revival a i různé pragmatistické teorie pravdivosti se proto dostávají na pořad dne (včetně například kontextu matematiky). Za....

It is now often taken for granted that facts are entia non grata, for there exists a powerful argument (dubbed the slingshot), which is backed by such great names as Frege or Gödel or Davidson (and so could hardly be wrong), that discredits their existence. There indeed is such an argument, and it indeed is not wrong on the straightforward sense of wrong. However, in how far it knocks down any conception of facts is another story, a story which is anything but simple and perspicuous. In his book, Stephen Neale takes pains to excavate the origins of the argument and the presuppositions which it needs to be usable for the purpose of exorcising facts. In the introduction of the book, Neale expresses his conviction that his analysis of the slingshot will not only compromise its usability for the purpose of discrediting facts, but also save representationalist conceptions of language and mind from the attacks of the antirepresentationalist philosophers like Davidson and Rorty. „Representational philosophy,“ he claims, „survives the Davidson-Rorty onslaught because non-truth-functional logics and ontologies of facts, states of affairs, situations and propositions survive not only the actual arguments deployed against them, but also the most precise and powerful slingshot arguments that can be constructed.“ However, what he does take his analyses to show is that „the most precise and powerful slingshot arguments demonstrate conclusively that the logical and ontological theories originally targeted must satisfy non-trivial conditions if they are to avoid logical or ontological collapse.“ (P. 12) The book starts with the discussion of the philosophy of Donald Davidson, who appears to have brought the slingshot argument to the current prominence within philosophical discussions. Here we encounter the first variant of the slingshot: Consider two sentences φ and ψ and a proper name d. Consider the definite descriptions ‘the object x such that (x = d and φ)’ and ‘the object x such that (x = d and ψ)’..

One of the recent trends in the philosophy of language and theory of meaning is the inferentialist project launched by Robert Brandom (1994, 2000, 2008), elaborating on the approach of Wilfrid Sellars (1953, 1954, 1956, 1974). According to this project, language is to be seen as essentially a rule-governed activity, providing for meaningful utterances in a way analogous to the way in which the rules of chess provide for making one's pawns, bishops or rooks attack one's opponent, checking his king or castling (see Peregrin, 2008). Inferentialism is also a theory of the nature of human reason and consequently of the nature of man, hence an ambitious project. Independently of how realistic these ambitions are, it is of a profound interest that many of the ideas of contemporary general semantic inferentialism were already tabled and discussed within the philosophy of law. Some of them were used to account for the semantics of legal discourse just like they are now used to account for discourse more generally and hence their current employment can be seen as mere generalization; others were submitted to illustrate the fact that legal discourse is specific rather than continuous with the ordinary one. In this paper we would like to survey two such discussions; before presenting the example of the former kind, we will mention one of the latter kind. We will try to show how the legal theorists anticipated current discussions in the field of the philosophy of language and that given the current constellation of the debate, philosophy of language may learn many things from the philosophy of law.

There may be various reasons for claiming that meaning is normative, and additionally, very different senses attached to the claim. However, all such claims have faced fierce resistance from those philosophers who insist that meaning is not normative in any nontrivial sense of the word. In this paper I sketch one particular approach to meaning claiming its normativity and defend it against the anti-normativist critique: namely the approach of Brandomian inferentialism. However, my defense is not restricted to inferentialism in any narrow sense for it encompasses a much broader spectrum of approaches to meaning, connected with the Wittgensteinian and especially Sellarsian view of language as an essentially rule-governed enterprise; and indeed I refrain from claiming that the version of inferentialism I present here is in every detail the version developed by Brandom

In considering the very possibility of deviant logic, we face the following question: what makes us see an operator of one logical system as a deviant version of an operator of another system? Why not see it simply as a different operator? Why do we see, say, intuitionist implication as an operator 'competing' with classical implication? Is it only because both happen to be called implications?1 It is clear that if we want to make cross-systemic comparisons, we need an 'Archimedean point' external to the systems compared. Some logicians and philosophers, including Quine (1986), come close to saying that no such Archimedean point is available, and hence that there can be no deviant logics, for if two operators are governed by different axioms, then they are simply two different operators (or, if you prefer, operators with different meanings). From this viewpoint, intuitionist implication is no less different from classical implication than, say, intuitionist or classical conjunction. This conclusion is indeed plausible if we consider logical calculi simply as algebraic structures2; however, things are different if we see them as a means of accounting for something that is already 'there' before we establish the structures and is to be explicated by them. From such a perspective, two operators of different systems may be variants of the same operator in virtue of the fact that they are both means of capturing the same pretheoretical item. What might these items be? Sometimes it seems that logicians tacitly assume that there are some mythical archetypes of implication, conjunction etc., located somewhere in some Platonic heaven or somehow underlying the a priori structures of our mind, which logic tries to capture (for better or worse). However, when it comes to the comparison of the concrete outcomes of our logical efforts, say the classical and the intuitionist implications with the archetypal Implication, the latter can never be materialized so distinctly as to be of any help. A more constructive proposal is that the operators are related to elements or constructions of our language..

In a remarkable early paper, Wilfrid Sellars warned us that if we cease to recognize rules, we may well find ourselves walking on four feet; and it is obvious that within human communities, the phenomenon of rules is ubiquitous. Yet from the viewpoint of the sciences, rules cannot be easily accounted for. Sellars himself, during his later years, managed to put a lot of flesh on the normative bones from which he assembled the remarkable skeleton of the early paper; and his followers too. However, what they say is somewhat divergent; and therefore my aim in this paper is to concentrate on the very concept of rule and analyse it in the context of the question what it is about us humans that makes us special

In this paper I put forward a thesis regarding the anatomy of “cultural evolution”, in particular the way the “cultural” transmission of behavioral patterns came to piggyback, through us humans, on the transmission effected by genetic evolution. I claim that what grounds and supports this new kind of transmission is a complex behavioral “meta-pattern” that makes it possible to grasp a pattern as something that “ought to be”, i.e. that transforms the pattern into what we can call a rule. (Here I draw especially on the philosophical insights of Wilfrid Sellars.) In this way I interlink empirical research done in evolution theory with some more speculative philosophical theories, thus shedding new light on the former and adding an empirical footing to the latter

Filosofové odedávna snili o jazyce, který by byl z hlediska řešení těch problémů, se kterými se potýkají (případně všech lidských problémů vůbec), vhodnější než jazyk, jímž nás obdařila příroda. Mnozí z nich si představovali, že filosofické problémy vznikají zčásti nebo zcela v důsledku toho, že přirozený jazyk není dostatečně přesným prostředkem vyjádření našich idejí a myšlenek - a že by se tedy vše spravilo, kdyby byl k dispozici jazyk, jehož výrazivo by bylo s našim myšlením - případně s naším světem - v dokonalém souladu. Podle tohoto názoru je tím, co filosof (ale i vědec) potřebuje, jakási „abeceda lidských myšlenek“, která by nám umožnila „pomocí spojení jejích písmen a analýzy slov, která se z nich skládají, objevit a posoudit všechno ostatní“ (Leibniz) K tomu, aby se taková „abeceda“ dala vytvořit, ovšem zbývala jedna ‘maličkost’: bylo třeba posbírat a zinventarizovat všechny naše myšlenky a ideje, zjistit, pro které vyjádření nemáme, případně které vyjadřujeme nějak ‘nevhodně’, a tyto nedostatky a nesrovnalosti odstranit. Problém byl ovšem v tom, že nikdo neměl nejmenší ponětí, jak tohle udělat: a Leibnizův projekt calculu philosophicu, stejně tak jako jiné podobné nápady, zůstal navždy pouhou utopií.