Positivists and phenomenalists of all sorts maintain, and long have maintained, some variant of the following thesis concerning the existence of physical objects: Such statements as ‘There is (exists) now a wall behind my back’ are synonymous with a class of statements of which the following is representative ‘If I shall turn my head (have certain kinesthetic experiences), then I shall also have the visual experience called ‘seeing a wall'.’ This amounts to proposing what many of us call a philosophical analysis of ‘exist’ or, more precisely, of one meaning of ‘exist'; for the thesis implies that this verb, in the sense in which we use it when we say ‘This wall exists', is dispensable in the sense of being definable. Realists, who oppose the thesis, hold that ‘exist', in the sense mentioned, is what I would call an undefined descriptive predicate; and then they go on to recommend that instead of defining existence in terms of what we (shall) see, we had better say that we shall, if we turn, see a wall because there is a wall (and because we have put ourselves in a position to perceive it). Thus one could say, perhaps, that the realists wish to convert the positivistic position; instead of founding existence upon experience, they want to found experience (among other things) upon existence. To be sure, this is but a bare and crudely formulated schema of an issue that has been argued for a long time. Also, contemporary analysts for the most part do not discuss the issue directly; they give their attention to preliminary and, therefore, more fundamental questions. Like experienced chess players, who know to which characteristic situations in the middle game certain openings will eventually lead, we try to convince each other of the excellence of our respective openings. There is, in particular, one fundamental or opening move that is now widely discussed and which, I believe, most of us examine with a view to the position in which we shall find ourselves—in the middle game—with respect to the realism issue. I refer to the clarification of the relations between meaning and verification or, to put it the way positivists do, to the formulation of an adequate meaning criterion. Let me indicate the connection between these questions and the crude schema I have given for the realism issue. According to current garden varieties of positivism, a statement is (empirically) meaningful if it is verifiable by (future) experience. ‘There is a wall behind my back’ is, in this view, meaningful because it is synonymous with a class of statements each of which is verifiable by future experience. More pointedly, the familiar common sense statements about the existence of physical objects are considered as meaningful because they are verifiable. This has again the subjectivistic ring realists dislike so much; so they may again be inclined to convert the positivistic position, if only tentatively and because they feel that a piece of realistic common sense would thus be preserved. But to make the conversion is to say that ‘There is a wall behind my back’ is verifiable because it is meaningful.

The function of Metaphysics is to furnish an intelligible and significant perspective. The tendency of recent speculation is to abstain from the attempt to give a total or absolute perspective of the world as a unit—there is some question as to whether we can think of the world as a whole—but rather to understand the objects about us, to bring values, formerly located in a transcendental realm, into life and conduct here and now, and to broaden our understanding and interests to included related activities and other communities. To make our perspective within a single science intelligible it is necessary, as Professor Miller has demonstrated, to fill in the gaps between perceptual objects with inexperienceable “interphenomena” and to employ methodological concepts and principles derived by abstraction and inference. Then again, each of the special sciences selects certain aspects of the general perspective for intensive research leaving gaps between the sciences to be filled in by integrating concepts. Finally, values emerge at the various levels, and these need to be related to the conditions out of which they arise and to the fields of applied knowledge in which they function.

In this article we will not undertake the more inclusive task of defining metaphysics or of discussing metaphysical principles, such as the principle of causation, or of considering the use of metaphysical entities in general. Rather our remarks will be confined primarily to metaphysical entities in the field of physics. A good example of such an entity is the electron.

“Unification of Science” is probably the most popular slogan in contemporary philosophy. This phrase has not only become the cry of a specific group of philosophers, but it is now accepted as one of the aims of philosophy by most of the contemporary philosophic schools, with but few exceptions. Each particular school believes that it has found the way of effecting such a unification, implicitly assuming that it knows the conditions for a unified science. One who concerns himself with the literature of the movements soon becomes aware of current confusion in the meaning of the expression, “Unification of Science“. The observer begins to wonder whether “Unity of Science” has not become a philosophic stereotype, designed to evoke feeling rather than thought.

One task of logic, Peirce held, is to classify arguments so as to determine the validity of each kind. His own classification is interesting because it includes a novel type of argument (called abduction) in addition to the two traditionally recognized types (induction and deduction). It is the purpose of this paper to discuss what Peirce thought to be sufficiently distinctive about abduction to warrant calling it a new kind of argument. But since one finds in his writings on abduction a number of different views it is first necessary to make a few remarks concerning the unity of Peirce's thought.

In this paper we shall consider the circumstances under which the concept of ‘field’ was introduced into electrical theory, the traditional use of the notion of field with particular reference to electrical theory, and sketch three characters of a field in this context. These are its pervasiveness, its independent existence, and its status as an elastic body. In each case we will briefly bring to bear more modern comment on these three facets of the traditional conception, attempting to salvage the meaning for the term field that is currently accepted. Following this, ‘field intensity’ will be compared with other terms such as ‘displacement current’ and the fictional character of terms and the conventional character of the equations in which ‘field intensity’ appears will be discussed. The paper closes with a summary of the points made.

Means-centered approach to science is contrasted with a problem-centered orientation. Overstress on and too exclusive concern with method, instrument, technique or procedure fosters the following mistakes:

1) Emphasis on polish and elegance rather than on vitality, significance and creativeness.

2) Giving the commanding positions in science to technicians rather than discoverers.

3) Over-valuation of quantification for its own sake.

4) Fitting problems to techniques rather than vice-versa.

5) Creation of a false and pernicious hierarchical system among the sciences.

6) Overstrong compartmentalization between the sciences.

7) Emphasis on the difference rather than the similarities between scientists and other truth-seekers (poets, novelist, artists, philosophers).

8) Creation of a scientific orthodoxy, which in turn a) tends to block the development of new methods, b) tends to exclude many problems from the jurisdiction of science and c) tends to make scientists “safe” rather than daring and unconventional.

9) Neglect of the problems of values, with a consequent blurring of the criteria for judging the worth or importance of an experiment.

Life, said William James, is a series of flights and perchings. Action is the process of life, and when its natural tempo or freedom is blocked or thwarted, the costs are those of life. Action is the goal-seeking behavior of the organism. All organisms have “goals”; without them they perish. Goals function as satisfiers of needs; without such satisfaction there is no life. Goal-directed action makes claims upon the organism's environments, and the levies are the stuff of life. Action is commerce with a milieu; “drives”—or any other motivational terms—only suggest the intensity and the form of that exchange; “death” is its cessation. The whole organism is involved, and the involvement is insistent, recurring, cyclical: it is the whole body which acts.