
JEFF
Once, when I was a teenager, I was hanging out with my brother Jeff and some of his university acquaintances. The conversation was meandering, in the solving the world manner that students have always loved. At some point, a girl made the very standard complaint,
“Women are being treated as objects.”
My brother, employing his famous Jeffersonian diplomacy, responded,
“But women are objects.”
And the fun ensued.
Both were correct, and importantly correct. Women were, and are, too often and too much treated simply as sparkly objects to be admired and, very optimistically, acquired. These sparkly objects have opinions on the matter, however, which is not true of non-human sparkly objects. But the “objectification” of women and – less so, but don’t sell it short – men, is not simply a callousing of human relations. It is part of who we each are, a sexual animal with a single consciousness, to see the objects of our sexual attraction, and our competitors for those objects, as, well, objects. It is also part of who we are to recognise that others can perceive us as objects in the same manner, and our opinions on this can vary from person to person, from perceiver to perceiver and from time to time.
Let’s leave sex and the women as objects thing, since my strong preference is to not be lynched. I will just emphasise the double point. The flattening of women and men as simply objects is, to say the least, throwing away a hell of a lot of understanding (and humanity). But, the glorification of women and men as not-objects is false, and false in a manner that can also screw us up.
FREGE
(Not to suggest that Jeff was in the same category as Frege …)
On to the duller but less lynchy world of philosophy. In my first year at university, I took a second year philosophy subject on logic. The subject was very good and, for me, very difficult. It covered the basic mathematics of modern formal logic: propositional and first order logic, and modal logic (which made a guest appearance on this post). This was a lot of work but it was all fine. What was much less fine was the philosophy side of the philosophy subject. I just have never been as good with ideas as with mechanics.
For my first essay in the subject, I chose the topic of “subject and object”, and it was a mess. Although I could gain glimpses of what the authors of the assigned papers were on about, I could never get a proper grasp on any of the subtleties, and the subtleties were the entire point. In the end, Peter Roeper, the excellent and very kind lecturer of the subject, awarded my essay a charity B.
I remember almost nothing of my struggle with that essay except for a little about one paper, by Gottlob Frege: that is Frege, pictured above. Frege was one of the founders of modern formal logic and the foundations of mathematics, and is perhaps now best remembered for having had his to-be seminal work torpedoed by Bertrand Russell’s paradox. Frege was primarily a philosopher, which one was required to be to formalise logic and mathematics out of natural language, and it was one of Frege’s philosophical papers that I was required to read: On Concept and Object.
Frege’s paper, which I still find very difficult to read, is part of the prehistory of first order logic. In brief, for Frege, objects were the things and concepts were the “predicates”, the properties that the objects might or might not have. So, for example, the proposition
Black Caviar is a horse.
is declaring that the object named Black Caviar is an instantiation of the concept of being a horse.
In his article, and others before and after, Frege fights with and tries to clarify various natural (German) language tangles. Some are easy enough: the connecting verb “is”, for example, can be used to either mean “is identical with” or “is an instance of”: how “is” is being used alters the manner of decomposing the proposition. Other tangles are less easy to untangle, however. Most famous is Frege’s declaration,
The concept ‘horse’ is an object.
It is a hilarious sentence, which has been stuck in my head for fifty years. The entire point of Frege’s concept-object framing is to distinguish things from the properties those things may or may not possess, and here is Frege declaring that a concept/property is an object/thing.
I don’t know that Frege’s horse puzzle is deep, although I don’t know that is not. Certainly, philosophers of language are still happily fighting over it. To me, similar to Tarski’s truth about snow, it feels as if the quotation marks are the likely key to the puzzle.* With the hindsight of set theory, we can think of Black Caviar being a horse as Black Caviar being an element of the set of horses. Or, to return to semi-natural language, we can interpret “is a horse” as possessing horsiness. The quotation marks are somehow moving from the property of being a horse to the set of objects with that property. Then, that set is an new object in and of itself. The property of horsiness is a new object, in and of itself.
Maybe not. Natural language philosophy is hard. So, if I got it wrong and end up with another charity B, this time from readers, I won’t complain.
ASHMAN
(Not to suggest that Ashman is in the same category as Jeff or Frege …)
My reminiscing on Jeff and Frege arose from pondering two recurring topics in Ashmanism. Initially, I had planned this post to segue from Jeff and Frege to a brief description of my loosely formed concerns with these Ashmanisms. While writing and continuing to ponder, however, these concerns moulded into solid disagreement. The post became very long and unbalanced, and I decided that it was best to split the post into three: the ignorable post here on my who-the-hell-cares reminiscing; and with two posts to come, one on each of the Ashmanisms.
To not be too teasing about, I will state that the first of these Ashmanisms concerns
The meaning, if any, of conceptual understanding.
A few months ago, Ashman wrote a post with the pleasingly inflammatory title, Conceptual Understanding is a Myth. So, yes, Ashman does not have much time for the, um, concept.
I read Ashman’s post at the time, together with a subsequent back and forth with a mathematician, and I had, and still have, plenty of sympathy with Ashman’s position. In the end, however, I think Ashman, if not entirely wrong, is ignorant and is consequently being remarkably obtuse. It’s not exactly Jeff or Frege stuff, but it’s not exactly not.
Readers are, of course, welcome to chime in, either in response to Ashman’s posts or from their independent musings. I will read any such ponderings with genuine interest, and it could well shift my thoughts. In any case, I will return with the remaining 2/3 of the Ashmanism Series as soon as my slavedriver boss permits it.
*) Frege’s statement is sometimes written with italics instead of quotes:
The concept horse is an object.
In any case, the word ‘horse’ is always syntactically and semantically distanced in some manner.
This is insightful, Matt. I am reminded of how Wittgenstein, in his post-Tractatus philosophy, talks around and towards a topic with what seems to be simple English. Where Wittgenstein gets to is right, to the extent that words can ever pin down ideas exactly, and if ideas exist without words expressing them. Where you get to is also right, that is, true, valid, correct.
It seems to me that the precision with which we use language depends on the context, and the intended audience. Contexts can vary from everyday-casual to mathematico-philosophical-precision.
We can have people talking about this or that being true, or consistent, and then tighten up the context and have Frege talking with an attempt at philosophical precision, and then have Russell and Whitehead talking about the same ideas within the abstract symbol-language they created, and finally (finally for the sake of my attempt to describe different levels of context and precision) we have Godel expressing the abstract symbol-language as a code of prime numbers.
Somewhere in Martin Gardner’s “Annotated Alice” there is Gardner’s annotation on Humpty Dumpty (I think that’s the character who raises this issue, but I don’t have my copy of Gardner at hand, and my googling isn’t finding it online) that explains the philosophical distinctions between the name of something, what something calls itself, and what that something is.
The fine distinctions that Carroll plays with, and that Martin Gardner clarifies in his annotation, are based on differences in the context.
In a simple context, a thing is what we call it.
In a not-so-simple context the thing we are discussing may have a name and a description and possibly a symbol and maybe an image and beyond that is the intended precise abstract concept that all of the associated apparatus (word, symbol, image, name, definition) points towards or approximates.
This happens in mathematics when we discuss geometry (or any subset of mathematics) and try to define “point” or “line”. The attempt at precision eventually leads us to accepting undefined primitive terms and a set of rules of inference, and everything develops from there, both logically and creatively.
The logical development quickly branches out in a tree of inference in the way all possible chess games can be plotted as a branching tree of all possible successive moves of pieces from the initial positions, according to the rules.
The creative development — the human entry to the tree of possibilities (in chess, I think, a finite tree: it is a game with an end for every branch, IF we have a rule for stale-mate endpoints) — means that Euclid’s geometry has existed for 2000+ years and occasionally some human finds a new theorem about triangles, or some other component in Euclidean geometry.
Coming back to contexts, I think people who write mathematics textbooks, or who write questions or mathematics exams (textbooks and exams using the same process), are working in an inbetween context.
Between plainer everyday language contexts, on the one hand (the starting point for the students intended to use textbooks and exams), and the far stricter contexts of formalised abstract mathematics as it is taught at universities, with increasing levels of strictness.
Imre Lakatos’s book “Proofs and Refutations” is centrally about the struggle for strictness, taking, in a long and challenging part of his book, the world of Platonic Solids and their stellations and truncations and examples and counterexamples and “monsters”.
I am trying to say that in the context of textbook writing and exam-question writing there are conventions of language (using words like “solve”, “find”, “simplify”, “prove”, “valid”, “value”, …) that are assumed to be known.
Within that context, the conventional meanings are correct. They are part of the rules and definition used when we play the (Wittgensteinian) “game” of School Mathematics.
But Wittgenstein sees the limitations of those conventions when they are looked at in a stricter context.
That is, roughly, how Russell made his paradox within Frege’s context.
And how Godel (and others) found unprovable true statements within contexts as strict as Russell’s.
So: yes, your discussion is right. But it is right in the stricter context in which you are discussing the topic. Horses and snow and validity.
Thanks, John. I’ll read your comment carefully later. I’ll just note that the Ashmanism context is not natural language or logic or textbook/exams: it is the principles of mathematics education. In this context, does the florid phrase “conceptual understanding” have any meaning and value?
Thanks again, John.
I think Frege and co had to fight hard, to try to give a very precise mathematical language and logic out of the necessary imprecision of natural language. They succeeded, at some price of artificiality. (The Boolean working of “if P then Q”, for example, does not closely correspond to the everyday notion of implication.)
Here, I think there is some concern for the language, although I don’t think that is the main issue. Calling women “objects” is asking for trouble. Ashman doesn’t like “conceptual” anything because of the connotations of superiority (and I’m not thrilled either). But I don’t think the question Ashman is not really the delineation of “conceptual understanding”, although I imagine he would be ready to object, but the meaning of the term in any sense and, thus, its usefulness. Which are fair enough questions.
‘Ceci’ n’est pas un cheval…
Are you Magritting me?
Seulement de ‘cette’ facon.. 🙂