After he had rejected much of the Tractatus, Wittgenstein, upon at least one occasion, still “thought that in the Tractatus he had provided a perfected account of a view that is the only alternative to the viewpoint of his later work”—a perfected account: that is to say (at least) a well-knit, coherent one. It seems to me that this merit must be denied the whole account presented in the Tractatus and I would like to explain why.

The Tractatus holds that every true or false proposition is analyzable as a truth-functional compound of elementary propositions. It further holds that elementary propositions are completely independent of one another. “The simplest kind of proposition, an elementary proposition, asserts the existence of a state of affairs” (4.21).

I am not sure how confident we can be about our knowledge of the meaning of a sentence, but I am sure that we should be much less confident than we often are about the meaning of a word or non-sentential expression. This paper is an attempt to whittle away our confidence about word-meaning, and it is to this end that I investigate the meaning of the word ‘know'. But the point of the investigation is to show that it is not enough to investigate just the meaning of a word. We must investigate the syntax as well, something that philosophers have often ignored. A theory of meaning must be closely tied to a theory of syntax, and for one to be acceptable the other must be acceptable as well. A theory of language must be an integrated theory, and hypotheses about syntax and meaning stand or fall together.

A Ia suite de ses trois grandes Critiques, Kant a publié, en 1793, La religion dans les limites de Ia simple raison. Ce livre commence par l'affirmation d'un principe mauvais au plus profond de l'homme, d'un “mal radical” qui est le fait de notre moi intelligible lui-même et qui permet à l'auteur d'accuser l'humanitē tout entière. Le péché originel dans une philosophie rationaliste, voilà qui ne va pas de soi. Goethe écrivait déjà: “Kant, après avoir consacré une longue vie d'homme à nettoyer son manteau philosophique de bien des préjugés malpropres, l'a ignominieusement souillé avec Ia tache infamante du mal radical pour engager les chrétiens aussi à en baiser l'ourlet”. Sans chercher des mobiles aussi bas, on peut s'étonner en effet que l'homme de Kant, l'homme sujet transcendantal et volonté autonome, soit aussi l'homme coupable, le pauvre pécheur de Ia théologie chrétienne.

Although there has been considerable interest recently in statements that have been described as pragmatically inconsistent or self-defeating (for example, the statement ‘I do not exist’), the notion of pragmatic inconsistency has not been clearly defined and little attention has been paid to the relation between the assertion of these statements and the statements themselves. Hintikka [1] and Nakhnikian [2], for example mention that ‘I do not exist’ cannot be asserted without pragmatic inconsistency, but they are concerned mainly with belief statements that are pragmatically inconsistent rather than with the assertion of them. In doing so they have missed an important point—that it is the characteristics of statements that cannot be asserted without pragmatic inconsistency that render other statements pragmatically inconsistent.

Recently a number of philosophers (e.g. Feyerabend and Kuhn) have maintained that the meanings of terms in a scientific language are “theory-laden” or determined by the theory in which they occur, and thus that if the same term (e.g.; ‘mass’) occurs in different theories, it will take on different meanings in the different theories; so the theories are incommensurable. An often-stated corollary to this doctrine is the claim that possessors of different theories cannot express or possess the same facts since they attach different meanings to the terms used to give expression to the facts. Various attacks against this extreme doctrine on the relativity of facts have been mounted. Some of them consist in showing defective the argument advanced in support of this doctrine; but such criticisms at best show that the defenses offered for the doctrine are defective, not that the doctrine itself is defective.

Philosophers commonly distinguish emotions from other feelings. For example, Anthony Kenny distinguishes emotions from both sensations and perceptions. Perceptions are connected with a specific organ or part of the body and sensations such as hunger or thirst are sometimes characteristically located in parts of the body. Emotions, however, are neither connected with organs nor characteristically felt in specific parts of the body (pp. 57–58). Kenny rightly points out that emotions and sensations are alike in one important respect, namely they are both linked to characteristic forms of expression. He then says “ … the existence of characteristic expre5sions of emotion itself provides a further link between emotion and sensations: for the expression characteristic of each emotion—e.g., weeping—is itself felt, and this feeling is a genuine sensation” (p. 59).

What makes one event have more historical importance than another event? Why, for example, do historians consider Caesar's decision to cross the Rubicon more important than Caesar's decision to shave in the morning? In this example, the answer should be obvious. The contrast is between a decision of great consequence and a decision of little consequence. Perhaps we can generalize from the example to say that the ranking of events with respect to their historical importance is a function of the magnitude of their respective consequences.

W. H. Dray holds that in some cases historical importance is determined by factors other than the size of consequences. For example, events may be important because of what they anticipate or what they reveal.

Along with the rest of his Critique de Ia Raison Dialectique, which it introduces, the “Question de Méthode” (widely read by English-speaking students of Marx as Search for a Method) takes an important place in the development of Jean-Paul Sartre's philosophical and political thought. However, the Search is also a challenge to Marxists either to defend or abandon certain of their views, and as such I think it raises some crucial issues. It is the purpose of this essay not to produce a systematic critique of Sartre's influential work, but rather to explore and sharpen some principles of the methodology of historical materialism by critically examining a selection of interrelated misconceptions about Marxism exhibited in the Search and shared by many friends as well as foes of the historical materialist approach to the study of human society.

Perhaps no doctrine in our intellectual history has received more attention—critical, puzzled and celebrative—than that of “economic determinism”. To adequately catalogue the literature on Karl Marx’s epoch-making theory would require, no doubt, a considerable tome.

I am not, therefore, going to attempt such a task here, illuminating though it might be as a study in the history and sociology of ideas. Rather I am going to outline an interpretation which will—if I am successful—be both faithful to Marx’s texts and immune to the standard philosophical criticisms which have been hitherto advanced against the theory (e.g., that it is intolerably imprecise, that it is indefensibly monocausal, that it is refuted by historical fact, that it is committed to logically improper prediction, that it is incompatible with ethical and personal responsibility, etc.).

I shall argue that the central doctrines of Locke's politics have a theological basis, a doctrine of Creation similar to the Thomist one. Locke does not elaborate this doctrine; he presupposes it. It is not a hidden, esoteric element in his thought; it is there on the surface, but in a scattered and fragmentary form.

I shall proceed in this fashion: First, I shall set out this doctrine of Creation and show its connexion with Locke's moral theory by way of an examination of his doctrines of property and power. I shall then show that Locke extends this doctrine of Creation to human productive activity with crippling results for his political theory.

In his paper “Has Austin Refuted the Sense-Datum Theory?” A. J. Ayer contends that the argument from illusion calls attention to perspectival distortion, perceptual misidentification and elusive perceptual belief only in order to establish the possibility of perceptual error. Pointing to our occasional perceptual failures reminds us that perceptual error is always logically possible—that any particular perceptual belief to the effect that one is perceiving a physical surface could be mistaken. This in turn is thought by Ayer to show that the ordinary belief that we perceive physical surfaces requires qualification—along lines urged by sense-datum philosophers—to the effect that even in those situations properly described for non-philosophical purposes as perceptions of physical surfaces it cannot be physical surfaces that are literally present to one's senses. Ayer believes that this can be established, for any given case, by the possibility of perceptual error alone.

In ‘Can and Might’ (this Journal, vol. 1, no. 1, September, 1971, pp. 87–92), Professor K. W. Rankin has presented three arguments that purport to refute the equivalence (E), ‘A (an action) is causally possible for P (a person) if and only if A is within P's power’. The first two arguments are attributed to Richard Taylor (Action and Purpose, Prentice-Hall, 1966, pp. 53–59), and the third is Professor Rankin's own. I will argue that none of these three arguments effectively refutes the above equivalence. My arguments are not to be construed as simply a rebuttal of Professor Rankin's paper since (a) he also appears to have some doubts about Taylor's arguments and (b) I refrain from comment on other aspects of his paper except these three arguments. I conclude with some general remarks on (E).

Although philosophy has undergone a number of revolutions since the turn of the century, the existence of universals is still debated largely in the terms employed by Moore and Russell around 1910. A recent article by Alan Donagan illustrates this nicely, for Donagan expounds and defends what he takes to be the principal argument for universals given by Russell in The Problems of Philosophy. I shall comment critically on the case Donagan makes for Russell's metaphysical realism, but my main concern is to establish a point of more general interest—namely, that the most plausible strategy for defending a commitment to universals actually raises more problems than it promises to solve.

Quine's essay, “Ontological Relativity” [2] has brought about not a little confusion and disagreement. What is Quine's doctrine, and what are his arguments for it? The following paragraphs search for an answer. First a word about my aims. I will avoid adding to the already extensive discussion of Quine's older thesis of the indeterminacy of translation. Instead, where connections between the old and new doctrines become apparent, I will focus on the connections themselves and their repercussions for ontological relativity.