Appeared in Noûs 39 (2005), pp. 596-631.
Empty Names, Fictional Names, Mythical Names
David Braun
University of Rochester
John Stuart Mill (1843) thought that proper names denote individuals and do not connote
attributes. Contemporary Millians agree, in spirit. We hold that the semantic content of a proper
name is simply its referent. We also think that the semantic content of a declarative sentence is a
Russellian structured proposition whose constituents are the semantic contents of the sentence’s
constituents.
This proposition is what the sentence semantically expresses. Therefore, we think
that sentences containing proper names semantically express singular propositions, which are
propositions having individuals as constituents. For instance, the sentence ‘George W. Bush is
human’ semantically expresses a proposition that has Bush himself as a constituent. Call this
theory Millianism.
Many philosophers initially find Millianism quite appealing, but find it much less so after
considering its many apparent problems. Among these problems are those raised by non-referring names, which are sometimes (tendentiously) called empty names.
Plausible examples
of empty names include certain names from fiction, such as ‘Sherlock Holmes’, which I shall
call fictional names, and certain names from myth and false scientific theory, such as ‘Pegasus’
and ‘Vulcan’, which I shall call mythical names.
I have defended Millianism from objections concerning empty names in previous work (Braun 1993). In this paper, I shall re-present those objections, along with some new ones. I shall then describe my previous Millian theory of empty names, and my previous replies to the objections, and consider whether the theory or replies need revision. I shall next consider whether fictional and mythical names are really empty. I shall argue that at least some utterances of mythical names are.
1. The Problems
Let’s assume, for the moment, that the proper names ‘Vulcan’ and ‘Sherlock Holmes’ fail
to refer. Ordinary speakers judge these names to be meaningful, unlike the nonsensical string of
phonemes ‘thoodrupqua’. But (one might plausibly claim) if ordinary speakers judge that
‘Vulcan’ and ‘Sherlock Holmes’ are meaningful, then they have semantic contents. Yet
Millianism entails that they do not have semantic contents. Thus, one might conclude,
Millianism is false. Call this objection The Problem of Meaningfulness for Names.
The next objection is The Problem of Meaningfulness for Sentences. If Millianism is true, then the names ‘Vulcan’ and ‘Sherlock Holmes’ have no semantic content. If a name lacks semantic content, then sentences in which the name appears also lack semantic content. Therefore, if Millianism is true, then sentences containing ‘Vulcan’ or ‘Sherlock Holmes’ have no semantic content. If a sentence has no semantic content, then ordinary speakers will judge that it is not meaningful. But ordinary speakers think that many sentences containing these names are meaningful, for instance, the sentences ‘Vulcan does not exist’ and ‘Sherlock Holmes is a detective’. So it seems, once again, that Millianism is incorrect.
Consider next The Problem of Truth Value. The previous argument says that if Millianism is true, then sentences containing ‘Vulcan’ or ‘Sherlock Holmes’ have no semantic content. But Millianism says that a sentence has the same truth value as its semantic content. So, if Millianism is true, then sentences containing the names ‘Vulcan’ or ‘Sherlock Holmes’ have no truth value. But some sentences containing ‘Vulcan’ or ‘Sherlock Holmes’ do have truth values. For instance, the sentences ‘Vulcan exists’ and ‘Sherlock Holmes is a grapefruit’ are false, and the sentences ‘Vulcan does not exist’ and ‘According to certain stories by Conan Doyle, Holmes is a detective’ are true.
A special case of the Problem of Truth Value is The Problem of Attitude Ascriptions. Suppose that Urbain Le Verrier sincerely utters ‘Vulcan is a planet’ (in French) and that Stephen Hawking utters ‘Vulcan does not exist’. Then the attitude ascriptions ‘Le Verrier believes that Vulcan is a planet’ and ‘Hawking says that Vulcan does not exist’ are true. But according to Millianism, ‘Vulcan is a planet’ and ‘Vulcan does not exist’ have no semantic content and the ‘that’-clauses that appear in these attitude ascriptions fail to refer. But then those attitude ascriptions are not true, if Millianism is correct.
The final objection is The Problem of Belief and Sincere Assertive Utterance. Generally, a person sincerely and assertively utters a sentence only if she believes its semantic content. (For instance, a person sincerely and assertively utters ‘George W. Bush is a Republican’ only if she believes the proposition that George W. Bush is a Republican.) But according to one of our earlier arguments, if Millianism is true, then the sentence ‘Vulcan does not exist’ has no semantic content. Therefore, if Millianism is true, then it is not the case that anyone believes the (nonexistent) semantic content of ‘Vulcan does not exist’. Thus, if Millianism is true, then no one ever sincerely and assertively utters ‘Vulcan does not exist’. But clearly some people do. Therefore, Millianism is incorrect.
2. The Gappy Proposition Theory
As I said, I replied to objections similar to most of those above in previous work (Braun 1993). I shall re-present those replies and then discuss their adequacy.
Millianism says that sentence (1) semantically expresses a proposition whose constituents are Bush and the property of being a planet. We can, by convention, represent this proposition with the ordered pair (1pPair).
1. Bush is a planet.
1pPair. <Bush, being-a-planet>
Under an alternative convention, we can represent this same proposition with (1pPairSets).
1pPairSets. <{Bush},{being-a-planet}>
Under yet another convention (one that emphasizes the constituent structures of propositions), this same proposition is represented with a tree, as in (1pTree).
1pTree. Proposition
/\
/ \
Argument 1-Place Property
| |
Bush being-a-planet
A Millian who accepts the existence of structured propositions (such as the one variously represented above) can and should admit that there are propositional structures with unfilled positions. Such a propositional structure can be represented by (2pTree) or (2pPairSets).
2pTree. Proposition
/\
/ \
Argument 1-place Property
| |
being-a-planet
2pPairSets. <{}, {being-a-planet}>
An alternative notation for referring to this same propositional structure, which I shall adopt
from here on, is given by (2pBlank).
2pBlank. < __, being-a-planet>
The propositional structure represented above lacks an occupant in a position that is normally occupied by the semantic content of a name, and possesses an occupant in a position that is normally occupied by the semantic content of a predicate. So it is a plausible Millian candidate for the semantic content of certain sentences that contain non-referring names. Thus, I proposed (following a suggestion by David Kaplan 1989) that the semantic content of sentence (3) is a propositional structure that contains an unfilled position (a “gap”), as represented by (3p).
3. Vulcan is a planet.
3p. <__, being-a-planet>
I furthermore proposed that unfilled propositional structures can be asserted and believed. When Le Verrier assertively utters sentence (3), he asserts the gappy propositional structure (3p). If he utters the sentence sincerely, then he believes (3p). But if such objects can be asserted and believed, then they are strong candidates for being propositions. Thus, I claimed that they are. I called them “unfilled propositions”, though I now prefer Kaplan’s more euphonious term gappy proposition.
I also claimed that gappy propositions have another feature characteristic of genuine propositions, namely that of bearing truth values. Atomic gappy propositions, such as that represented above, are false. Sentence (4) expresses a false gappy proposition that we can represent with (4p).
4. Vulcan exists.
4p. <__, existing>
The negation of sentence (4), namely (4Neg), expresses proposition (4pNeg), which is true.
4Neg. Vulcan does not exist.
4pNeg. < <__, existing>, NEG>
Thus sentence (4Neg) is true. I will say more about these claims below.
This theory provides replies to the earlier objections against Millianism. Consider first
the Problem of Meaningfulness for Sentences. One of its premises says that if a name lacks a
semantic content, then sentences in which it appears also lack semantic content. This premise is
false, on the above view. The name ‘Vulcan’ lacks semantic content, but the sentence ‘Vulcan
exists’ does have a gappy propositional content. There are also immediate replies to the Problem
of Truth Values and the Problem of Belief and Sincere, Assertive Utterance. Gappy propositions
bear truth values, so sentences that semantically express them do also. In fact, sentences that
express gappy propositions usually have the truth values that we pre-theoretically judge them to
have. The sentences ‘Vulcan exists’ and ‘Sherlock Holmes is a grapefruit’ are false, because the
atomic gappy propositions that they express are false. The sentence ‘Vulcan does not exist’ is
true. And a reasonable theory of truth in fiction would imply that the sentence ‘According to
certain stories by Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes is a detective’ is true, for the sentence
‘Sherlock Holmes is a detective’ expresses a gappy proposition that is explicitly expressed by
one of the sentences in Conan Doyle’s stories, or is implied (in some suitable sense) by the
propositions expressed by sentences in the stories.
Furthermore, there is no problem about
belief and sincere assertive utterance. A person who sincerely and assertively utters ‘Vulcan
does not exist’ really does believe the semantic content of the sentence, namely a gappy
proposition. In addition, attitude ascriptions that contain empty names in ‘that’-clauses can be
true on the Gappy Proposition Theory. The ‘that’-clauses ‘that Vulcan is a planet’ and ‘that
Vulcan does not exist’ refer to gappy propositions. If Le Verrier sincerely utters ‘Vulcan is a
planet’ (in French) and Hawking utters ‘Vulcan does not exist’, then the attitude ascriptions ‘Le
Verrier believes that Vulcan is a planet’ and ‘Hawking says that Vulcan does not exist’ are true.
Replying to the Problem of Meaningfulness for Names takes a bit more work. This
objection claims that if ordinary speakers judge that a name is meaningful, then it has a semantic
content. This premise is incorrect: ordinary speakers judge that the names ‘Vulcan’ and
‘Sherlock Holmes’ are meaningful, even though they have no semantic content. Ordinary
speakers so judge because they bear cognitive relations to these names that are importantly
similar to the cognitive relations they bear to referring names. If an utterance of ‘George W.
Bush is in Prague’ comes from a source that I take to be reliable, it will cause me to believe that
George W. Bush is in Prague. My so believing may cause me to utter that same sentence.
Utterances of sentences containing standard non-referring names have similar sorts of causal
connections with belief. An utterance of ‘Vulcan does not exist’ from a source that I take to be
reliable will cause me to believe the gappy proposition that Vulcan does not exist, and my
believing this proposition may cause me to utter that sentence. Strings of sounds that we
ordinarily call ‘meaningless’ do not have these characteristic causal relations with belief. An
utterance of a (quasi) sentence that contains the sound ‘thoodrupqua’ will not cause me to
believe a gappy proposition and I (currently) have no beliefs that cause me to utter (quasi)
sentences containing that sound.
3. Three Objections and Replies
I shall soon re-examine the claim that atomic gappy propositions are false. But before doing so, I want to consider three objections to the Gappy Proposition Theory.
The first objection claims that no reasonable person could believe an atomic gappy proposition, such as the proposition that Vulcan exists. A proponent of this objection might follow Bertrand Russell (1910-11) in holding that the propositions that an agent thinks, entertains, and believes are (in some sense) “transparent” to that agent. Such a philosopher might say that anyone who entertained an atomic gappy proposition would recognize its gappiness, and recognize that it cannot be true, and so refrain from believing it, contrary to the Gappy Proposition Theory.
This objection concerns belief, and replying to it requires a bit of a metaphysics of belief. On the metaphysics I favor, standing in the belief relation to a proposition requires that one be in a certain type of intrinsic mental state. These mental states are intrinsic in the following sense: you and your Twin Earth doppelgänger have the same types of mental states of this sort, even though you believe different propositions. For instance, there is a type of intrinsic mental state that you share with your Twin Earth doppelgänger which underlies your believing that Aristotle was a philosopher, but which underlies your doppelgänger’s believing that Twin Aristotle was a philosopher. You and Twin You differ in what you believe, despite the intrinsic similarity in your mental states, because your mental states stand in different causal relations to Aristotle and Twin Aristotle. These causal relations involve utterances of proper names such as ‘Aristotle’: Your utterances of the name ‘Aristotle’ refer to Aristotle, whereas your Twin’s utterances refer to Twin Aristotle.
Suppose now that Twin You’s utterances of ‘Napoleon’ fail to refer. (The causal chain that carries the name ‘Napoleon’ to Twin You contains a “block”, to use a term from Keith Donnellan 1974.) Twin You is in an intrinsic mental state of the same type as the one that underlies Your believing that Napoleon is a general. But Twin You ends up believing a gappy proposition, which we can represent with (5p).
5p. <__, being-a-general>.
Of course, Twin You is entirely rational, just like You. Twin You cannot tell by introspection that he or she believes a gappy proposition, any more than You can. No a priori reasoning would reveal to Twin You that he or she believes a gappy proposition, any more than such reasoning by You would. Thus, Twin You does not think that he or she believes a gappy proposition, any more than You do. So Twin You thinks that he or she believes something that is very likely to be true. Thus, contrary to the skeptic I mentioned above, a rational person can entertain an atomic gappy proposition without believing that it is gappy, and without believing that it is incapable of being true, and so can reasonably come to believe that gappy proposition.
Here is the second objection to the Gappy Proposition Theory. A rational person could understand sentences (6) and (7), and believe that (6) is true and (7) is false.
6. Vulcan is a planet.
7. Sherlock Holmes is a planet.
Such a person would believe the proposition semantically expressed by (6) and believe the negation of the proposition expressed by (7). But on the Gappy Proposition Theory, (6) and (7) semantically express the same gappy proposition, namely proposition (6/7p).
6/7p. <__, being-a-planet>
Therefore, such a person would believe a proposition and its negation. But surely no rational person could do that. So, one might conclude, the Gappy Proposition Theory is incorrect.
To reply to this objection, let’s return to You and Twin You. You believe that David Hume was not a general. (At least you do now that I have mentioned it.) You believe this partly in virtue of being in a certain intrinsic mental state. Twin You is in this same type of intrinsic state. But (let’s suppose) Twin You’s uses of the name ‘David Hume’ fail to refer. So, this type of intrinsic mental state underlies Twin You’s belief in a gappy proposition, which we can represent with (8p).
8p. <<__, being-a-general>, NEG>
Now recall that Twin You believes the gappy proposition (5p) above, which he or she would express by saying ‘Napoleon was a general’. But (8p) is just the negation of (5p). So, Twin You believes a gappy proposition and its negation. But the intrinsic mental states that underlie Twin You’s believing these propositions are as different as the intrinsic mental states that underlie Your believing that Napoleon was a general and Your believing that David Hume was not a general. Twin You believes the atomic gappy proposition (5p) in a “Napoleon-ic” way, but believes the negative gappy proposition (8p) in a “David Hume-ish” way. These ways of believing are different enough to allow Twin You to be just as rational as You.
Similarly, a rational Earthling could believe proposition (6/7p) in a “Vulcan-ish” way, and believe the negation of that same proposition in a “Sherlock Holmes-ish” way. The ways in which such a person believes these propositions are as different as the ways in which You believe that Napoleon was a general and that David Hume was not. Such a person would rationally think that sentence (6) is true and sentence (7) is false.
The preceding objection is a variant on a standard objection to Millianism about referring names. On the Millian theory, sentences (9) and (10) semantically express the same singular proposition.
9. Twain wrote Huckleberry Finn.
10. Clemens wrote Huckleberry Finn.
Yet a rational person could think that one is true and the other is false. The correct reply for the Millian (in my opinion) is to say that such a person believes a proposition and its negation, but in distinct ways that allow him to preserve his rationality. See Salmon 1986 and Braun 2002.
Here is the third objection.
The Gappy Proposition Theory entails that sentences (11)
and (12) express the same proposition.
11. Le Verrier believes that Vulcan is a planet.
12. Le Verrier believes that Holmes is a planet.
But (11) and (12) differ in truth value. Thus, the Gappy Proposition Theory is incorrect. A variant on this objection asks us to consider sentences (13) and (14).
13. According to The Hound of the Baskervilles, Holmes is a detective.
14. According to The Hound of the Baskervilles, Vulcan is a detective.
Let’s assume that the sentence modifier ‘according to The Hound of the Baskervilles’ attributes a property to the proposition expressed by the sentence it modifies. Then on the Gappy Proposition Theory, (13) and (14) express the same proposition. Yet (13) is true and (14) is false. Therefore, the Gappy Proposition Theory is mistaken.
This objection is a variation on a standard objection to Millianism concerning referring names and attitude ascriptions. According to Millianism, (15) and (16) express the same proposition.
15. John believes that Twain wrote Huckleberry Finn.
16. John believes that Clemens wrote Huckleberry Finn.
Similarly for (17) and (18), given the above assumptions about the semantics of ‘according to’.17.According to John, Twain wrote Huckleberry Finn.
18. According to John, Clemens wrote Huckleberry Finn.
But, the objection claims, (15) and (16) can differ in truth value, as can (17) and (18). So, Millianism is false. I have replied at length to this objection to Millianism in other work (Braun 2002). My response to the analogous objection to the Gappy Proposition theory is entirely parallel, but I can give only a brief version here. (For details, see Braun 1998 and 2002.)
Sentences (6) and (7) express the same gappy proposition, according to the Gappy Proposition Theory. But as we saw, a rational agent can believe that proposition in a “Vulcan-ish” way, and believe its negation in a “Holmes-ish” way. Such a person would think that (6) is true and (7) is false. (11) and (12) contain ‘that’-clauses whose contents are the gappy proposition expressed by (6) and (7). Therefore, if the proposition expressed by (6) and (7) can be believed in different ways, then so can the gappy proposition expressed by both (11) and (12). Thus, it’s quite plausible to think that a rational agent could believe the gappy proposition expressed by (11) in a “Vulcan-ish” way, and yet fail to believe it in a “Holmes-ish” way. In fact, such an agent could believe the negation of that gappy proposition in a “Holmes-ish” way. Thus, a rational agent could think that (11) is true and (12) is false, even though they express the same gappy proposition. Therefore, a rational speaker could think that (11) and (12) do, or could, differ in truth value. Similarly for (13) and (14).
4. Gappy Propositions and Truth Values
The Gappy Proposition Theory says that atomic gappy propositions are false. But Fred
Adams and Robert Stecker (1994), Nathan Salmon (1998), Kenneth Taylor (2000), and Marga
Reimer (2001a, 2001b) have claimed that they are neither true nor false.
In this section, I
consider arguments for and against their being false.
I believe that the arguments against their
falsehood are uncompelling, and that the arguments in favor of their falsehood, though not
demonstrative, are fairly persuasive. In the next section, however, I consider the consequences
for the Gappy Proposition Theory of simply granting that atomic gappy propositions have no
truth value.
4.1. Arguments Against the Falsity of Atomic Gappy Propositions
The first argument against the falsity of atomic gappy propositions comes from Salmon (1998, p. 381, note 54). He says, “Even Russell, who loved truth value . . . would probably have withheld falsity as well as truth from [atomic gappy propositions–DB]–unless he was prepared to label such things as Piccadilly Circus and his own singleton false.” Salmon seems to assume that atomic gappy propositions are false only if all untrue things are false. But if all untrue things are false, then Piccadilly Circus and Russell’s singleton set are false. The latter are not false, so atomic gappy propositions are not false. The weak link in this argument is the premise that atomic gappy propositions are false only if all untrue things are false. On the Gappy Proposition Theory, atomic gappy propositions are distinctive because they are objects of belief and assertion, and so are propositions. Only propositions, or items that express propositions, can bear truth values. Piccadilly Circus and Russell’s singleton set are not propositions, and do not express propositions. So atomic gappy propositions are false, though Piccadilly Circus and Russell’s singleton are not.
Here is the second argument. (It is inspired by Adams and Stecker [1994], though they do not formulate it.) The open formula ‘x is a planet’ has no truth value. If it has no truth value, then its semantic content has no truth value. But the semantic content of ‘x is a planet’ is the atomic gappy proposition <__, being-a-planet>. Therefore, the atomic gappy proposition <__, being-a-planet> has no truth value. Therefore, no atomic gappy proposition has a truth value. This argument makes questionable assumptions about the semantics of variables and open formulas. The semantic properties of variables differ from those of names, including empty names. Variables can be bound, whereas names cannot. The open formula ‘x is a planet’ varies in semantic content and truth value with respect to different assignments of values to variables, whereas the sentence ‘Vulcan is a planet’ does not. These differences strongly suggest that the semantic content of ‘x is a planet’ differs from that of ‘Vulcan is a planet’. The sentence semantically expresses the gappy proposition <__, being-a-planet>. Therefore, the open formula does not, contrary to the objection. Perhaps the semantic content of ‘x is a planet’ contains a variable, as King (2001) holds, or a propositional analog of one, as Barwise and Perry (1981) maintain (they call propositional analogs of variables ‘indeterminates’). Or perhaps open formulas have no semantic content: Salmon (1986, p. 156) thinks that open formulas have semantic contents only relative to assignments of values to variables.
4.2. Negations of Atomic Gappy Propositions
The arguments against the falsity of atomic gappy propositions are not persuasive. But let’s nevertheless suppose, for the moment, that they are not false and that sentences that express atomic gappy propositions are neither true nor false. Could one still reasonably hold that some negations of these sentences are true? I think one could.
To see this, assume (for the moment) that atomic gappy propositions are neither true nor false, and so sentences that express them are neither true nor false. Now consider a sentence that expresses an atomic gappy proposition, such as (19), and one of its negations, (20).
19. Vulcan exists.
20. It is not the case that Vulcan exists.
(20) contains an embedded ‘that’-clause that refers to the proposition expressed by (19), and attributes the property of not-being-the-case to this proposition. So, (20) is necessarily equivalent with (20a).
20a. That Vulcan exists is not the case.
Paraphrase: “The proposition that Vulcan exists is not the case.”
In fact, (20) is virtually synonymous with (20a): they are as close in meaning as a typical active sentence is with its passive version, for instance, ‘Mary kissed John’ and ‘John was kissed by Mary’. (20a), in turn, is necessarily equivalent to (20b).
20b. That Vulcan exists is not true.
Paraphrase: “The proposition that Vulcan exists is not true.”
So, (20) is necessarily equivalent with (20b). Now we are (for the moment) assuming that (19) expresses a gappy proposition that is neither true nor false. (20b) correctly says that this gappy proposition is not true. Thus (20b) is true, and since it is necessarily equivalent to (20), (20) is also true. Thus, (20) is true on the Gappy Proposition Theory, even if (19) is neither true nor false.
Consider next the syntactically internal negation of (19), namely (21).
21. Vulcan does not exist.
It is reasonable to think that (21) is ambiguous. On one reading, (21) is synonymous with (20),
and so expresses a true gappy proposition. On another reading, it expresses a gappy proposition
that lacks truth value.
So admitting that sentences that express atomic gappy propositions are
neither true nor false would not force a Gappy Proposition theorist to say that all negations of
those sentences are neither true nor false.
4.3. Arguments For the Falsity of Atomic Gappy Propositions
Let’s now return to the main issue: are atomic gappy propositions false? What follows are some considerations in favor of thinking that they are.
As we have already noted, some things are untrue, and yet are not false, for instance, Piccadilly Circus and the Eiffel Tower. The most salient difference between untrue objects that are false and untrue objects that are not false is that the former are propositions (or items that semantically express propositions). Thus, it is reasonable to conclude that this is the crucial difference between being untrue and being false: untrue objects that are also propositions (or things that express propositions) are false. Atomic gappy propositions are propositions and are untrue. Therefore, they are false.
This proposal closely fits our use of the term ‘false’. We restrict our use of the term
‘false’ to untrue propositions (or items that express untrue propositions), and we tend not to use
the term in a more restrictive way than this: ordinary speakers rarely attempt to distinguish
between propositions (or claims or beliefs) that are untrue and propositions (or claims or beliefs)
that are false.
Even if the property of being an untrue proposition is not the property of (propositional) falsehood, there is reason to think that it is a kind of falsehood. Consider sentence (19) again. (19) is false just in case the negation of (19), or the genuine contradictory of (19), is true. If (19) has more than one sort of negation, then (19) is false in one sense if one of its negations is true. Sentence (20) is a strong candidate for being the, or at least a, genuine negation and contradictory of (19). But (20) is necessarily equivalent with (20b), and we saw earlier that (20b) is true. So (20) is true, and we can conclude that (19) is false (in at least one sense), and therefore that the untrue atomic gappy proposition that it expresses is false (in that same sense).
4.4. A Tentative Conclusion
I tentatively conclude that atomic gappy propositions are false, in at least one reasonable
sense of ‘false’. My conclusion is tentative for two reasons. First, the above considerations in
favor of their falsehood (in at least one sense) are not demonstrative. Second, we do not yet
know how atomic gappy propositions fit into a more comprehensive semantic theory. For
instance, do they figure in the proper treatment of semantic presupposition (if there is such a
thing) and semantic paradox? If so, is it crucial that they lack truth value? Until we have
answers to these questions, our conclusions concerning the truth values of atomic gappy
propositions must be tentative.
5. Gappy Propositions and Intuitions about Truth Values
Fortunately, none of these questions about the truth values of atomic gappy propositions really matter much for the Gappy Proposition Theory. Consider a slightly revised version of the theory that says that all atomic gappy propositions, and their negations, are neither true nor false. This revised Gappy Proposition Theory entails that sentences (19)-(22) are all truthvalueless.
19. Vulcan exists.
20. It is not the case that Vulcan exists.
21. Vulcan does not exist.
22. Sherlock Holmes is a grapefruit.
This consequence is contrary to ordinary intuition. But the revised Gappy Proposition Theory can give a remarkably simple and plausible explanation of these ordinary intuitions–in fact, the same explanation that the original theory can give. Here it is: Ordinary speakers think that the sentence ‘Vulcan does not exist’ is true because they believe the gappy proposition that Vulcan does not exist. They think that the sentence ‘Sherlock Holmes is a grapefruit’ is false because they believe the gappy proposition that Sherlock Holmes is not a grapefruit.
This explanation might seem deliberately obtuse. You might be tempted to say, “Look,
the propositions that Vulcan does not exist and that Holmes is not a grapefruit are gappy, and
have no truth value, on your view. So how could ordinary speakers believe them?”
But our
earlier reflections on Twin Earth showed that an agent can rationally believe an atomic gappy
proposition. Twin You can rationally believe the atomic gappy proposition that he or she would
express with the sentence ‘Napoleon was a general’. Le Verrier can rationally believe the atomic
gappy proposition that Vulcan exists. Moreover, these agents can have good reasons for
believing these propositions, even if they lack truth value. Twin You has the testimony of
history teachers and textbooks. Le Verrier has his calculations, his beliefs about the masses of
Mercury and the Sun, his well-confirmed beliefs in Newton’s laws, and so on. Rational people
can also have good reasons for believing the negations of atomic gappy propositions, even if
those propositions lack truth value. Stephen Hawking, for instance, may believe that general
relativity explains Mercury’s orbit and that there is no planet between Mercury and the Sun. If
he were to consider the proposition that Vulcan does not exist, he would very likely fail to
recognize that it is gappy and truthvalueless. Thus, he could rationally come to believe it.
The above explanation might surprise philosophers who have come to expect Gappy
Proposition theorists to use pragmatics to explain away ordinary intuitions. Consider a sentence
that semantically expresses a gappy proposition, such as ‘Vulcan does not exist’. A pragmatic
explanation of typical intuitions about its truth value says that typical utterances of this sentence
conversationally implicate a non-gappy proposition that really has a truth value, for instance, the
proposition that there is no planet between Mercury and the Sun. Many ordinary speakers
believe this latter proposition. A Gappy Proposition theorist might claim that ordinary speakers
confuse the implicated proposition with the semantically expressed proposition. They then judge
that the sentence ‘Vulcan does not exist’ is true, even though it has no truth value. But
pragmatic proposals of this sort cannot explain all intuitions about the truth values of sentences
containing empty names. Consider a person who is ignorant of astronomy and who hears
Hawking utter ‘Vulcan does not exist’, but never hears anyone express an opinion about
Vulcan’s location. This person may come to believe the gappy proposition that Vulcan does not
exist, but never entertain the proposition that there is (or is not) a planet between Mercury and
the Sun. Similar examples raise similar problems for other pragmatic proposals.
The crucial issue in explaining intuitions about the truth values of sentences such as
‘Vulcan exists’ and ‘Vulcan does not exist’ is whether agents can rationally believe atomic
gappy propositions and their negations. They can, whether or not those propositions have truth
values.
6. Fictional Names, Fictional Characters, and Reference
I hope to have convinced you that if there are any non-referring names, then they do not show that Millianism is false. But are there any non-referring names? I earlier assumed that the names ‘Vulcan’ and ‘Sherlock Holmes’ fail to refer. Let’s reconsider that assumption, starting with the fictional name ‘Sherlock Holmes’.
6.1. Fictional Characters
Saul Kripke (unpublished), Peter van Inwagen (1977), Nathan Salmon (1998, 2002), and Amie Thomasson (1999) argue that fictional characters are actually existing entities. Thomasson and van Inwagen point out that there are seemingly true utterances of sentences such as (23) and (24) that apparently entail the existence of novels and plots.
23. Some novels were written in the 19th century.
24. Dickens’s novel Martin Chuzzlewit has a complex plot.
Most philosophers do not resist the conclusion that there are such things as novels and plots. But there is similar evidence for the existence of fictional characters. For instance, there are seemingly true utterances of sentences that apparently entail the existence of fictional characters, such as (25) and van Inwagen’s sentence (26).
25. There are fictional characters that appear in more than one of Conan Doyle’s stories.
26. There are characters in some 19th-century novels who are presented with a greater wealth of physical detail than is any character in any 18th-century novel.
These considerations, and others that I cannot go into here, suggest that fictional characters are
actually existing abstract artifacts of (roughly) the same ontological category as novels and plots.
Authors create characters when they create their fictions. Their existence supervenes on the
pattern of activities of authors and readers, just as the existence of novels does.
I believe we should accept the existence of fictional characters, even if we have questions about their exact nature (for instance, their supervenience bases). But the metaphysical claim that fictional characters exist leaves open many semantic issues. For example, do all utterances and inscriptions of the name ‘Sherlock Holmes’ refer to a fictional character? One reason to think that some do is that some utterances of (27) and (28) seem to be true.
27. Sherlock Holmes is a fictional character.
28. Sherlock Holmes is more famous than any real detective.
But there are also seemingly true utterances of (29), whose truth seems to require that some utterances of the name fail to refer.
29. There is no Sherlock Holmes.
And there is (30), which most of us would be willing to utter in non-theoretical moments.
30. ‘Sherlock Holmes’ does not refer to anything.
We can begin to sort out these matters by distinguishing between different types of utterances and inscriptions of these names.
6.2. Authors’ Inscriptions of Fictional Names
Consider, first, authors’ acts of inscribing fictional names as they write their stories. The
above philosophers disagree about whether these inscriptions refer to fictional characters.
Thomasson says that Conan Doyle’s inscriptions of ‘Sherlock Holmes’ referred to the character.
Kripke and van Inwagen say that Conan Doyle’s inscriptions of the name failed to refer, and that
utterances and inscriptions of the name referred to the character only later, after readers reflected
on Conan Doyle’s stories. Salmon agrees (very roughly) with Kripke and van Inwagen.
In my opinion, the thoughts and intentions that authors have as they inscribe names
determine whether their inscriptions refer to characters. Conan Doyle’s inscriptions of ‘Sherlock
Holmes’ referred to the abstract fictional character only if he had singular thoughts and
intentions about that thing. Perhaps he did have such thoughts and intentions. Suppose that as
he sat down to write his first story he said to himself “I shall soon create a fictional character,
which I hereby dub ‘Holmes’, and I shall write a bunch of sentences about that character, and
pretend to assert various propositions about it.” He would then have had some abstract fictional
character “in mind” as he wrote his stories. His inscriptions of ‘Holmes’ would have referred to
the character. As he wrote sentences containing the name, he would have pretended to assert
singular propositions that have the character Sherlock Holmes as a constituent.
But Conan Doyle might not have had such singular thoughts and intentions. Perhaps he
just started writing his story with the non-singular intention that he pretend to refer to something
with the name ‘Holmes’. He would then not have had a particular character “in mind”. His
inscriptions of ‘Holmes’ would then have been non-referring and his inscriptions of ‘Holmes
smoked his pipe’ would have semantically expressed a gappy proposition. While inscribing the
latter sentence, he would have pretended to assert the gappy proposition his inscription
expressed. His pattern of activity would have created the fictional character Holmes, but his
inscriptions of ‘Holmes’ would not have referred to that character.
There are more complicated possibilities. Conan Doyle might have begun writing his first story with the non-singular thoughts and intentions described above, but gradually have started to have singular thoughts and intentions regarding the character as he wrote more of his story. Then his first inscriptions in writing the story would have failed to refer, while his later inscriptions would have referred to the fictional character–and there might be some indeterminacy regarding some inscriptions in between. Another possibility is that he had rather mixed intentions from the beginning. He might have intended merely to pretend to refer to something with his inscriptions of ‘Holmes’, but at the same time, he could have thought that he was writing a bunch of sentences about the character Holmes. (It would not be too surprising if Conan Doyle had inconsistent thoughts about what he was doing when producing his fiction. He was not thinking about philosophy of language.) In this case, there could be some indeterminacy about the reference and content of his inscriptions.
Conan Doyle’s later reflections on his stories might introduce further equivocation or indeterminacy in the reference and content of his inscriptions of the name. Suppose that the inscriptions of ‘Holmes’ that Conan Doyle produced as he wrote his first story failed to refer. After finishing the story, he could have reflected on it and uttered ‘Sherlock Holmes is a fictional character that I created’. It would be entirely natural and understandable for him to utter this sentence. But he would then be trying to use ‘Sherlock Holmes’ to refer to a fictional character, while also intending to use the name in the same way he did before, even though he did not intend to refer to a character while he wrote the story, and even though his earlier inscriptions of the name did not (semantically) refer to the character. At this point, he really should introduce two new names or two new uses of the name: ‘Holmes1’, a name (or use of ‘Holmes’) that fails to refer, and ‘Holmes2’, a name (or use) that refers to the fictional character that he created. But, of course, Conan Doyle would do no such thing. He was not, after all, a fussy philosopher. As a result, there may not be any determinate fact of the matter about whether his later inscriptions of ‘Holmes’ refer to the character or fail to refer.
We have seen that there are at least four possibilities regarding the semantic reference
and content of Conan Doyle’s inscriptions of ‘Holmes’ as he writes his first story and as he
subsequently reflects on the story. (i) All of the inscriptions fail to refer. (ii) All of the
inscriptions refer to the fictional character Holmes. (iii) Some fail to refer while the rest refer to
the character. (iv) Some (or all) are such that it is indeterminate whether they fail to refer or
refer to the character.
Which possibility is actual depends on (at least) the actual thoughts and
intentions of Conan Doyle as he wrote and spoke. I do not know what happened with Conan
Doyle, but I think that (iv) is more likely than many philosophers have supposed.
6.3. Our Utterances of ‘Holmes’
What about our utterances of ‘Sherlock Holmes’? Do all of them semantically refer to the character? Or do some fail to refer, for instance, when we utter ‘Sherlock Holmes does not exist’? The same four possibilities that held for Conan Doyle’s inscriptions hold for our utterances and inscriptions. Moreover, our pre-theoretic intentions seem mixed. Sometimes we seem to intend to use the name to speak of the fictional character, whereas at other times we seem to treat the name as if it fails to refer. But we do not consciously distinguish between these types of use. Further, the empirical facts that determine reference and content are at least as complicated in our case as they are in Conan Doyle’s, for our utterances stand in semantically relevant causal relations to Conan Doyle’s. We have a standing intention to use the name in the same way that those around us do, and those people intend to use the name in the same way as those from whom they got the name did, and so on, until we reach Conan Doyle. (For those who have read the stories, this chain may be rather short.) So, the references and contents of our utterances and inscriptions are determined, in part, by the references and contents of Conan Doyle’s utterances and inscriptions. But our thoughts about fictional characters may also be relevant to determining the references and contents of our utterances of ‘Holmes’. Given these facts, I think that the most likely possibility is that there is some indeterminacy in the semantic reference and content of our utterances of ‘Sherlock Holmes’.
Whatever the semantic facts are, we should not expect ordinary speakers’ intuitions to reflect them in any straightforward manner. Consider (31).
31. There is no Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes does not exist. Sherlock Holmes is just a fictional character.
(31) seems true, when we do not think about it too hard. But, on reflection, it appears to be contradictory. If the third conjunct of (31) is true, then there is such a thing as Sherlock Holmes, and so the first conjunct is false. So is the second conjunct, assuming (contrary to Meinongians) that everything that there is exists. Thus, ordinary, pre-theoretic int