H. P. GRICE E J. L. SPERANZA: LA CONVERSAZIONE -- I VERBALI: PETRONE

 G.: Il problema della realtà, then, or, if one prefers less drama and more grammar, il problema della parola “reale.” S.: You mean the word wears the trousers. G.: If any word in the vicinity does, it is real, yes. S.: Not realtà. G.: No. Realtà is what happens when a language decides that one trouble is not enough and gives it an abstract noun. S.: Like speranza, only less cheering. G.: Exactly. Though speranza has the advantage of not pretending to settle ontology. S.: Petrone, however, writes Il problema della realtà and expects one to feel the capital without printing it. G.: Italians do that very well. They inflate by article. S.: Il problema, then. G.: Ah yes. Why il problema and not a problem among others. That is already half the rhetoric. One says il problema della realtà and the undergraduate imagines that all previous evenings were naïve. S.: Austin would have said that if you find yourself saying “the problem of reality,” you have probably missed the use of “real.” G.: Very likely, yes. Or at least you have allowed a modifier to become a metaphysical throne. S.: You are thinking of Sense and Sensibilia. G.: Inevitably. Austin had the excellent instinct that real is often a trouser-word, as he liked to put it: not splendid in itself, but serviceable, and usually worn only in company. S.: Meaning that “real” typically contrasts with sham, toy, painted, dream, pretend, artificial, mock, wax, model, and the rest. G.: Exactly. One does not normally ask, in the abstract, “Is this real?” One asks: is this a real duck, a real gun, a real diamond, a real headache, a real tiger, a real friend. S.: And the contrast class does the work. G.: Most of it, yes. “Real” is semantically lazy but contextually muscular. S.: Then Petrone’s title may be a pseudo-problem. G.: Not so fast. I am not willing to give Austin the whole field. It may be a pseudo-problem in one use and a real problem in another. S.: Solved or resolved. G.: Resolved, perhaps. Solved sounds mathematical and therefore overconfident. S.: You think the problem of reality is a real problem that has been resolved many times. G.: In a sense, yes. Philosophy keeps rediscovering that appearances may deceive, that seeming and being may part company, that what counts as real depends on what contrast is in play, and then proudly announces a new crisis. S.: So every generation reinvents waxworks. G.: Very nearly. With improved lighting. S.: Then what exactly is the real problem. G.: There are at least three. First, the ordinary-language one: how “real” actually functions in discourse. Second, the epistemological one: under what conditions we are entitled to deny reality to an appearance. Third, the metaphysical one: whether “reality” names some ultimate inventory or grade of being. S.: Petrone seems to want the third with strong help from the second. G.: Yes. Early idealists and their neighbours often want reality not merely as predicate but as destination. S.: Whereas Austin wants to send it back to the shops. G.: Quite. Back to ordinary use, where it belongs, beside “genuine,” “proper,” “actual,” and a host of contrastive companions. S.: But you do not wholly side with Austin. G.: I side with him against inflation, not against metaphysics altogether. S.: That sounds almost balanced. G.: It is accidental. S.: Let us do the phrase analytically, then. Il problema della realtà. G.: Good. Il, problema, della, realtà. “Il” elevates. “Problema” dignifies perplexity. “Della” is the old genitive troublemaker. “Realtà” abstracts. S.: Della may be objective or explanatory or merely titular. G.: Yes. The problem of reality may mean the problem concerning what is real, or the problem constituted by reality, or the problem raised by our talk of reality. S.: Which one would Austin choose. G.: The third, if he were feeling charitable. More often he would say that philosophers invented the phrase by neglecting the actual occasions for “real.” S.: And you. G.: I would say that such neglect is a mistake, but not the only mistake. Once one has done the lexical work, there may still remain a philosophical pressure. S.: For example. G.: For example, when we ask whether an hallucination can have all the ordinary marks of reality for the subject and yet fail to be real in the public, corrective sense. S.: Then “real” is not merely contrastive but norm-governed. G.: Exactly. It belongs to practices of correction, checking, reidentification, and public adjudication. S.: That already sounds like ratio cognoscendi. G.: Indeed. The ratio cognoscendi of the real is one thing: the way reality becomes known, tested, warranted. The ratio essendi is another: what makes a thing the kind of thing it is, or grants it its mode of being. S.: So one may know reality under one ratio and seek its being under another. G.: Precisely. Much confusion comes from sliding from epistemic criteria to ontological constitution. S.: And ens realissimum. G.: Ah yes, the old schoolman’s heavyweight champion. The most real being. S.: God, usually. G.: Usually, yes. Ens realissimum is what happens when reality ceases to be a local contrast term and becomes a superlative of being. S.: So from “real gun” to “most real being” by a series of academic sins. G.: Very neat. And not wholly false. S.: Then entia realissima. G.: The plural makes things worse and better. Better, because one sees that “more real” and “most real” are not meaningless in certain metaphysical schemes. Worse, because one is tempted to believe one has discovered a scale where perhaps one has only altered the grammar. S.: Austin would dislike “more real.” G.: He would ask “more real than what?” and usually be right to do so. S.: Yet Plato gives one something like grades of reality. G.: Yes. Sensibles, mathematical objects, Forms, and so on, depending on how one reads the furniture. S.: So the problem is not wholly invented by modern bad English. G.: No. The pressure is old. The lexical confusion is local. S.: Petrone then belongs to the tradition that asks not merely how we use “real” but what sort of thing reality itself is. G.: Exactly. He wants reality as philosophical quarry, not as adjective under discipline. S.: And Austin thinks that quarry is a painted backdrop. G.: Often, yes. S.: You said “real” wears the trousers. G.: In many ordinary cases it does. “Reality” tends to preen in the mirror while “real” does the household labour. S.: So “reality” is the overdressed abstraction of a hard-working adjective. G.: Admirably put. S.: Thank you. G.: Do not become abstract. S.: Never intentionally. Then perhaps Petrone’s title already offends because it lets the abstract noun take over the economy of the adjective. G.: Yes. Once “realtà” enters, the temptation is to forget the contrastive uses from which the philosophical anxiety originally rose. S.: But perhaps the anxiety rose elsewhere too, from dream, error, illusion, spirit, freedom, causation. G.: Certainly. Which is why I refuse the simple pseudo-problem verdict. S.: Then give me your graded answer. G.: Very well. “The problem of reality” is pseudo when it ignores the ordinary uses of “real” and asks for an essence of reality in the void. It is genuine when it asks how distinctions between appearance and reality function, how they may fail, and what ontological commitments they presuppose. S.: So Austin cures one pathology, not all pathology. G.: Exactly. Philosophical therapy is not universal medicine. S.: Let us bring in ens realissimum again. G.: With reluctance. The ens realissimum is a perfect example of reality leaving the shops and joining the clergy. S.: Because “real” there no longer contrasts with toy, sham, painted, artificial. G.: No. It has been recruited into an ontological ranking. The most real being is the fullest, most perfect, most independent, most self-sufficient. S.: Ratio essendi, then, not ratio cognoscendi. G.: Principally, yes. It belongs to what it is to be, not how we tell. S.: But knowledge of it depends on another ratio. G.: Naturally. One must not confuse the reason of being with the reason of knowing, though philosophers do so with touching frequency. S.: Then Petrone’s problem may concern both: what reality is, and how spirit or experience secures it. G.: Exactly. Idealists tend to want reality not merely catalogued but justified by relation to spirit, act, freedom, consciousness, or some other metaphysical favourite. S.: Which you distrust. G.: I distrust grand favourites, yes. S.: Yet you said the problem is real and has been resolved many times. G.: Yes. The history is one of repeated resolutions, none permanently sovereign. Aristotle resolves it one way, scholastics another, Descartes another, Kant another, idealists another, Austin by partial deflation, and so on. S.: So the problem persists because each resolution leaves a residue. G.: Precisely. Philosophy is mostly residues with footnotes. S.: And trousers. G.: Occasionally. S.: Let us talk about “real” again in Austin’s manner. A real duck, a real pain, a real friend, a real issue. G.: Good. Notice how the contrast class changes. “Real duck” contrasts with decoy, stuffed specimen, toy, picture, perhaps imitation roast in a bad college hall. “Real pain” may contrast with imagined pain, pretended pain, merely slight discomfort. “Real friend” with fair-weather acquaintance or ceremonial ally. S.: So “real” is semantically opportunistic. G.: Very much so. It borrows its work from the local false claimant. S.: Then “reality” strips away the false claimant and pretends to stand alone. G.: Exactly. That is why the abstraction is dangerous. S.: But not always empty. G.: No. Once philosophers ask about the common thread among these uses, or about the authority of correction among them, they may be doing something legitimate. S.: Such as. G.: Such as asking what it is for a public world to have priority over private seeming in the assignment of “real.” S.: That sounds anti-sceptical. G.: In part. Scepticism presses precisely where “real” and “seems” begin to part company under pressure. S.: So the problem of reality is tied to the problem of appearance. G.: Inevitably. And Bradley, whom Austin mentions, at least had the decency to call appearance appearance. S.: While Petrone calls the other side realtà. G.: Yes, and so invites the whole idealist parade. S.: You say that almost fondly. G.: One may be amused without enlistment. S.: Then where does Grice enter. G.: In at least two places. First, by asking what conversational pressures make speakers say “it is real” or “it only seems so.” Second, by noting that such utterances often carry implicatures about certainty, caution, correction, or authority. S.: For example, “it looks real.” G.: Yes. “It looks real” often implicates doubt or at least suspension. If I say “the diamond looks real,” I imply that some contrast class—paste, imitation, stage jewellery—is alive. S.: So reality-talk is pragmatically loaded. G.: Always. Reality is never merely named; it is usually staked. S.: Staked by whom. G.: By a speaker situating himself with respect to evidence, appearance, challenge, or reassurance. S.: Then Petrone’s “problem” may partly arise from a failure to notice the pragmatic side. G.: Or from a decision to subordinate it to the metaphysical side. S.: Which is still a choice. G.: Quite. One may choose to ask after spirit, freedom, and the real structure of the world. But one should not pretend the adjective’s common life never existed. S.: Then the right procedure would be. G.: First, examine the ordinary use of “real.” Second, sort the contrast classes. Third, ask what explanatory pressure remains once the lexical confusions are cleared. Fourth, only then allow metaphysics to speak. S.: That sounds too sensible to be idealist. G.: There are intervals of sensibleness even there. S.: And what of “solved” versus “resolved.” G.: Ah yes. “Solved” suggests finality, as in arithmetic. “Resolved” suggests ordered treatment, perhaps temporary settlement, perhaps decomposition into parts. S.: So the problem of reality is repeatedly resolved, never once and for all solved. G.: That is my view. Resolutions may be better or worse, but the pressure can reappear under altered vocabularies. S.: As from ens realissimum to empirical realism to idealism to ordinary language. G.: Precisely. The scenery changes, the anxiety returns. S.: You mentioned ratio essendi and ratio cognoscendi. Could we also say ratio loquendi. G.: Very good. Yes. Often what is needed is a ratio loquendi: an account of why we talk this way at all. S.: Austin supplies that. G.: In large part, yes. He reminds us that “real” has a life in language before it acquires a life in systems. S.: Petrone supplies ratio essendi. G.: Or tries to. He wants a substantive account of what the real is in relation to spirit and action. S.: And you. G.: I occupy myself with a little ratio loquendi and a little ratio intelligendi. S.: You mean how we mean what we say when we say “real.” G.: Exactly. S.: Then perhaps “Il problema della realtà” should be translated not as “the problem of reality” but as “the trouble we get into once ‘real’ becomes a noun.” G.: That would be excellent and very unfair. S.: Which is often the best sort of summary. G.: Sometimes. S.: Let us try ens realissimum once more. Would you say that such a notion is merely the superlative misuse of “real.” G.: Not merely. It belongs to a metaphysical programme in which degrees of perfection and degrees of being are tied. If being admits of more and less under some description, then “most real” is not nonsense within that programme. S.: But it is far from ordinary use. G.: Entirely. One must not smuggle school metaphysics back into the fishmonger by way of adjectives. S.: So ordinary “real” and scholastic “realissimum” are cousins who should not share clothes. G.: Very good indeed. S.: Thank you. G.: Keep that too. S.: Then if Petrone writes Il problema della realtà in 1914, he stands much closer to the latter cousin. G.: Yes. He writes in a climate where reality is not merely checked against appearance but installed in a larger moral-metaphysical architecture. S.: Spirit, freedom, anti-determinism, heroic action, all the rest. G.: Exactly. Reality becomes what must be secured for a philosophy of spirit to have room. S.: Which is why the problem may feel so grand. G.: Yes. Once reality is tied to freedom, causation, spirit, or moral world-order, it ceases to be merely an adjective in need of contrast and becomes a whole philosophical theatre. S.: Austin closes the theatre. G.: He closes part of it and turns on the lights. S.: You reopen one door. G.: Perhaps two. One for ordinary language, one for whatever remains philosophically pressing after ordinary language has had its say. S.: Then the true enemy is not metaphysics, but premature metaphysics. G.: That is very well put. S.: I am having a good morning. G.: Do not let it spread. S.: Then what would you say to Petrone directly. G.: I should say: before announcing il problema della realtà, tell me how “reale” actually works, what it contrasts with, who is anxious, and why. S.: And if he replied that the problem is deeper than usage. G.: I should agree, but ask him not to dive before checking the depth markers. S.: Very Oxonian. G.: Thankfully. S.: Then perhaps the final summary is this. “Real” wears the trousers because it does the contrastive work in ordinary discourse. “Reality” borrows its dignity from that labour and then tends to overreach. The problem is pseudo if it ignores this. It is genuine if, after acknowledging it, it still asks what appearance, correction, and being amount to. G.: Splendid. S.: And the scholastic coda. G.: Very well. Ratio loquendi first, ratio cognoscendi next, ratio essendi only when earned; and ens realissimum only if one has brought better shoes. S.: Dry enough. G.: Sufficiently Molisan, with Austin’s trousers and Petrone’s theatre both left standing.