Panayot Butchvarov

Much of Jorge Gracia’s book is devoted to the definition of metaphysics. But he follows the traditional, though today ignored, distinction between nominal and real definitions. If we think of a definition of x as an answer to the question “What is x?”, an example of the former would be the entry under “bachelor” in a dictionary. An example of the latter would be the account in a chemistry textbook of the chemical structure of water. It is seldom clear that either sort of definition falls within the competence of philosophers, unless they happen to be also lexicographers or scientists. But on the nature of metaphysics, Gracia’s topic, of course philosophers alone are likely to be competent. Why? They alone are likely to know and to have reflected on what metaphysicians have done, i.e., to know the history of metaphysics. For such knowledge, we cannot do better than to go to someone like Professor Gracia.

One of the most characteristic claims of the dominant movement in contemporary British philosophy, to which we shall refer as the philosophy of ordinary language, is that traditional philosophical discourse has usually been logically improper because it has depended upon systematic misuses of certain expressions in ordinary language and that philosophy is a legitimate cognitive discipline only if it is concerned with the description of the actual use of language. To substantiate this claim, the philosopher of ordinary language has had to establish at least the following two general philosophical theses, which together seem to constitute the hard core of original doctrine in the philosophy of ordinary language. First, that the meaning of an expression is its use and not its referent or what it corresponds to. Second, that the description of the uses of certain expressions in language is not merely a study of words but genuinely solves the same problems which traditional philosophy had tried to solve through other methods

The standard arguments for antirealism are densely abstract, often enigmatic, and thus unpersuasive. The ubiquity and irreducibility of what linguists call generic statements provides a clear argument from a specific and readily understandable case. We think and talk about the world as necessarily subject to generalization. But the chief vehicles of generalization are generic statements, typically of the form “Fs are G,” not universal statements, typically of the form “All Fs are G.” Universal statements themselves are usually intended and understood as though they were only generic. Even if there are universal facts, as Russell held, there are no generic facts. There is no genericity in the world as it is “in-itself.” There is genericity in it only as it is “for-us.”

It is too early to judge how 20th century philosophy ended, but its beginning was remarkable. Both Moore’s Principia Ethica and Russell’s Principles of Mathematics appeared in 1903, the first volume of Husserl’s Logical Investigations in 1900-01, and four of William James’s major philosophical books in 1902-09. There was not a significant difference, except in style and temperament, between Anglo-American and European philosophers. The analytic/continental schism came much later. Both Russell and Husserl began as mathematicians. Moore wrote in the preface of Principia that his ethics was closest to Brentano’s. Russell studied and discussed Frege and Meinong in detail. James was admired in Britain and in Europe, influenced Husserl and Wittgenstein, and was the subject of articles by Moore and Russell.

Quentin Smith’s new book appears at a time appropriate for judgment of what analytic ethics and philosophy of religion have accomplished during a century of their existence. His emphasis is on ethics, presumably because only recently analytic philosophers have devoted attention to the philosophy of religion. Much of the book is a judicious historical account that distinguishes four stages in the development of analytic philosophy: logical realism, logical positivism, ordinary language analysis, and what Smith calls linguistic essentialism. It begins with a sympathetic discussion of Moore’s Principia Ethica, which, mainly through the discussion in its first chapter of simple and complex properties, and of definitions, inaugurated analytic ethics, indeed, together with Russell’s “On Denoting,” analytic philosophy generally. Moore’s chief interest was in substantive ethical propositions, e.g., that personal affection and aesthetic appreciation are the greatest goods, but his successors usually did not go beyond the first chapter, which alone is included in the standard anthologies.

But how can any entity be not self-identical? If it is both itself and another, then it is not an entity but a pair of entities. At best, an entity which is not self-identical is a series of concrete, self-identical, unchanging entities, parallel to what Whitehead calls "personal order." But even then the series itself would be self-identical qua a series, although its constituents exhibit successive differences. Therefore, to speak of entities which are not self-identical is either not precise or contradictory. It is not precise if two or more entities are referred to as one entity, even if this one entity is then said to be not self-identical. It is contradictory if a self-identical series or collection of self-identical entities is called a non-self-identical entity. Therefore, for the same reason for which a concrete entity cannot change, no entity can change.