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Editor-in-Chief
Katarzyna Paprzycka (University of Warsaw)
Editors
Tomasz Bigaj (University of Warsaw) – Krzysztof Brzechczyn (Adam Mickiewicz
University) – Jerzy Brzeziński (Adam Mickiewicz University) – Krzysztof Łastowski
(Adam Mickiewicz University) – Joanna Odrowąż-Sypniewska (University of Warsaw)
– Piotr Przybysz (Adam Mickiewicz University) – Mieszko Tałasiewicz (University of
Warsaw) – Krzysztof Wójtowicz (University of Warsaw)
Advisory Committee
Joseph Agassi (Tel-Aviv) – Wolfgang Balzer (München) – Mario Bunge (Montreal) –
Robert S. Cohen (Boston) – Francesco Coniglione (Catania) – Dagfinn Føllesdal (Oslo,
Stanford) – Jaakko Hintikka✝ (Boston) – Jacek J. Jadacki (Warszawa) – Andrzej Klawiter
(Poznań) – Theo A.F. Kuipers (Groningen) – Witold Marciszewski (Warszawa) –
Thomas Müller (Konstanz) – Ilkka Niiniluoto (Helsinki) – Jacek Paśniczek (Lublin) –
David Pearce (Madrid) – Jan Such (Poznań) – Max Urchs (Wiesbaden) – Jan Woleński
(Kraków) – Ryszard Wójcicki (Warszawa)
VOLUME 103
Editors
Jacek Paśniczek (Maria Curie-Skłodowska University, Lublin) – Jan Woleński (Professor
Emeritus, Jagiellonian University, Kraków) – Ryszard Wójcicki (Professor Emeritus,
Polish Academy of Sciences)
By
leiden | boston
Cover illustration: Kazimierz Twardowski among his pupils (Lwów, ca. 1910). Sitting from the left: Maria
Fränklówna (2), Seweryn Stark (4), Kazimierz Twardowski (5), Karol Frenkel (6), Kazimierz Ajdukiewicz (7),
and Zofia Pasławska-Drexlerowa (8); standing from the left: Edmund Gromski (2), Mieczysław Tretter (5),
Irena Jawicówka-Pannenkowa (9), Stanisław Leśniewski (11), Daniela Tennerówna-Gromska (14), and
Tadeusz Kotarbiński (15).
ISSN 1389-6768
isbn 978-90-04-30402-4 (hardback)
isbn 978-90-04-30403-1 (e-book)
Editors:
The volumes in the subseries present the heritage of the analytical movement in
Polish philosophy in general, and the achievements, traditions and continuations
of the Lvov-Warsaw School in particular.
2
Two songs are edited and recorded in (Jadacki 2005).
he studied Aristotle together with Aquinas’ commentary, and the British phi‑
losophers. Twardowski got his PhD in 1892 on the basis of a thesis on idea
and perception in Descartes, which he had finished in 1891. He got a one
year travel grant, and used it for a study in psychology in 1892. He spent
some time with Carl Stumpf in Munich and at Wilhelm Wundt’s psycholog‑
ical laboratory in Leipzig. As a topic for his Habilitationsthesis Brentano
suggested Aristotle’s division of the sciences, but Twardowski preferred
to write a more systematic treatment. Intrigued by a remark in Höfler’s
Logik (1890), and probably stimulated by his reading of Bolzano’s Wissen‑
schaftslehre (1837), he decided to write on the distinction between content
and object. As Brentano no longer occupied a chair, the official supervisor
was Zimmermann. By submitting his thesis at the end of 1893, Twardowski
earned the right to teach philosophy at the University of Vienna in 1894,
and started in the winter of 1894/1895 with a course on logic, followed by
a course on Hume’s Enquiry.
As a Pole, Twardowski could not be appointed to a chair at a German
University in Austria. Instead, he was asked to occupy a Chair in Lemberg
(Lwów), giving his inaugural lecture on November 15, 1895, and obtaining
a full professorship three years later. At the university, half of students were
Poles, a third was Jewish, and a quarter was Ukrainian. Lwów was one of
the cultural centres of the Austrian‑Hungarian Empire and the cultural cen‑
tre of Galicia. Four languages were spoken: German, Polish, Ukrainian and
Yiddish. It is for this reason that the town is also known as Lemberg in the
German language, as Lviv in Ukrainian, and as Lvov in Russian. They are
different varieties of the same name.3 I will use the Polish name Lwów, but
I will use Lvov in the name “Lvov‑Warsaw School,” as this is already an
established usage. Twardowski was expected to give his lectures in Polish,
and the main part of his later writings was written in Polish, although he
took care that the more important papers were available in a German version.
Having his roots in Vienna and exerting his influence in Poland, Twardowski
was a typical example of a Central‑European philosopher. Other Brentano
students had already become professor in Habsburg centres, such as Anton
Marty, who got a chair in Prague around 1880. For Twardowski, the older
Brentano student Marty (1847‑1914) was of special importance, both for
3
This need not contradict Frege’s thesis that the names “Afla” and “Ateb” are different names
of the same mountain. In Frege’s example the two names are not related to each other; they
are independently given. The discovery that the two names refer to same mountain is a ge‑
ographical one – we have learned something about the world, that the Ateb is the Afla; the
discovery that the four names refer to the same town is a linguistic one. In the example of the
different names for Lwów the names are meant to be translations of each other. In a similar
way, “Kasimir” is the German variant of Twardowski’s first name.
the school known to the world. At least ten women of the school were appoint‑
ed at a university. Janina Hosiasson‑Lindenbaumowa (1899‑1942), a pupil of
Kotarbiński and wife of Adolf Lindenbaum, seems to have been especially
gifted, but was killed, like Lindenbaum, by the Nazis.5 Tadeusz Kotarbiński
and Kazimierz Ajdukiewicz obtained their Ph.D. under Twardowski in, re‑
spectively, 1912 and 1913; they worked on philosophy of language, logic,
and philosophy of science. Twardowski’s method of philosophical grammar
plays an important role in Kotarbiński’s work.6 Ajdukiewicz’s categorical
grammar is influenced by Husserl’s notion of Bedeutungskategorie, but the
way it is used as a method of thorough thought originates in Twardowski.7
Ajdukiewicz, who was married to one of Twardowski’s daughters, is probably
the student closest in style to Twardowski, being an excellent teacher with
Klemens Szaniawski and Jerzy Pelc among his pupils.
Twardowski’s most famous students, Jan Łukasiewicz and Stanisław
Leśniewski, have specialised in mathematical logic. In 1902, Łukasie‑
wicz obtained his doctorate with Twardowski on induction and deduction.
Leśniewski, born near Moscow, came to Lwów in 1910 after having studied
abroad, mainly in Germany, and obtained his doctorate on existential prop‑
ositions under Twardowski in 1912. Typical of mathematical logic in the
Lvov‑Warsaw School, compared for example to the work of David Hilbert,
is the rejection of a strict formalism: signs essentially represent something.
Twardowski would be the first to remind them that symbols always symbolize
something. Cf. (Twardowski 1921, p. 262). In 1930, Alfred Tarski held his
public lecture on the semantic definition of truth not only in Warsaw, but also
in Lwów. Tarski, who got his education in Warsaw and wrote his doctorate
5
On these women philosophers in the Lvov‑Warsaw School, see (Woleński 1889) and (Pak‑
szys 1998). The bibliographical references show that most of the women published in Polish,
but that Hosiasson published in Mind, Journal of Symbolic Logic and Synthese, and Koko‑
szyńska in Erkenntnis.
6
“In Kotarbiński’s opinion, a particularly important task for the professional philosopher
consists in pinpointing and eliminating philosophical questions which are wrongly posed and
result in confusion. … It must be assumed that on that issue he shared Twardowski’s standpo‑
int, i.e., he assumed the possibility of identifying genuine and well posed problems directly
from the semiotic properties of their formulations” (Woleński 1989, p. 63). Kotarbiński adds
to this method of philosophical analysis a method of logical analysis based on Leśniewski’s
formal system.
7
Cf. (Ajdukiewicz 1978, p. x). (Brożek 2011, p. 225) gives the following quote from Aj‑
dukiewicz, in her translation: Twardowski errichtete keine philosophische Schule, die sich
an charakteristischen Aussagen erkennen ließe. Dafür war das eine andere Schule, die man
nicht als philosophische bezeichnen kann, weil sie eine Schule im weiteren Sinn war: eine
Schule für gediegenes Denken [thorough thought, MS]. In 1922, Leśniewski introduced the
term “kategorie semantyczne” as a translation of Husserl’s term, using the notion for formal
languages, as an alternative to Russell’s hierarchy of types. Ajdukiewicz’ notion can also be
used in natural languages, as linguists have shown. Cf. (Haas 1989).
under Leśniewski, hoped to get the newly raised chair in mathematical logic
in Lwów. Twardowski and Ajdukiewicz acted for Tarski, but the mathema‑
ticians promoted Leon Chwistek, who got the chair. Eventually, Tarski got
a position in the United States, and through him the Lvov‑Warsaw School
influenced the development of modern analytic philosophy. Chwistek nev‑
er studied under Twardowski, and one can discern an important difference
between Chwistek’s view on semantics and that of Twardowski’s students.
As Woleński writes: “Chwistek reduced semantics to a formal theory of
expressions, logicians influenced by Twardowski looked upon referential
relations as inherently involved in the use of language” (Woleński 2009,
p. 52). Tarski’s views on semantics, influenced by Leśniewski’s opposition
to formalism, made it possible that a semantics could be developed for for‑
mal systems (see chapter VI).
There is certainly a striking difference between the method used by
Twardowski and the one used by his students. There is no sign that Twardows‑
ki read Frege, and he thus missed the important developments in logic.
Twardowski’s early logic is mainly shaped by the logic of Brentano, which
was a non‑Aristotelian logic, though still a term logic. There are manuscripts
available of Twardowski’s courses on logic in Vienna and the earlier years
in Lwów. Regrettably, a course on logic on the reformation of tradition‑
al logic concerning Bolzano, Brentano, Boole and Schröder disappeared
during the Second World War. Cf. (Dąmbska 1978, p. 123). According to
Izydora Dąmbska, the course was given several times, and was attended
by Leśniewski and Kotarbiński.8 Frege was important for Leśniewski and
Łukasiewicz. Łukasiewicz adapted Frege’s term “truth‑value” to his own
purpose in his work on probability. Cf. (Łukasiewicz 1913; see chapter VI).
In 1904, he read Russell’s Principles of Mathematics (cf. Simons 2014),
including the chapter on the paradox of classes and the appendix on Frege.
Leśniewski considered Frege’s Grundgesetze der Arithmetik the most valu‑
able contribution to deductive method since the time of the Greeks. Cf.
(Woleński 1989, p. 318).
Twardowski drew the attention of his students to the writings of Brentano,
whose later ontology is most prominent in Kotarbiński’s work. Brentano’s
thesis that the judgement is the bearer of truth and falsity has had an influ‑
ence on the thesis that meaningful sentences are the proper bearers of truth
and falsity, which is defended by the majority of Twardowski’s students,
and by Tarski, as well. Cf. (Rojszczak 2005). At the same time, Twardowski
drew the attention of his students to Bolzano’s Wissenschaftslehre. Bolzano’s
influence played, for example, an important role in Łukasiewicz early work
on probability. Cf. (Künne 2003a). Łukasiewicz and Leśniewski were espe‑
8
[O]n a le droit de supposer que c’est ici que la logique mathématique en Pologne a pris son
essor (Dąmbska 1978, p. 123).
cially concerned with the status of the law of excluded middle and the law
of contradiction in relation to the concept of truth, which topic may directly
be traced back to Twardowski’s work on truth from 1900, and Bolzano’s
defence of the absoluteness of truth. Because of these different kinds of
influences, a different kind of analytic philosophy could emerge in Poland,
combining the Brentanist tradition with Bolzano’s logical objectivism.
Apart from his method, Twardowski’s defence of the absolute notion
of truth was one of the forming influences on the Lvov‑Warsaw School,
and it has played an important role in the discussion on truth, time, and the
law of excluded middle around 1913. Twardowski himself participated in
the discussion, and it will therefore be the main topic of the last chapter
(chapter VI). The philosophical importance of Twardowski I hope to show
by presenting the way he uses his method of philosophical grammar, dealt
with in chapter II, in answering the question what the object of thought is
(chapter III); what the bearer of truth and falsity is, and what meaning is
(chapter IV); and what the difference is between knowledge and prejudice
(chapter V). Especially in the last mentioned chapter I hope to show how
Twardowski’s educational ideal of a critical mind was a central element of
the Lvov‑Warsaw School.
1. Descriptive Psychology
Twardowski perceived his study from 1894 on the distinction between con‑
tent and object Zur Lehre vom Inhalt und Gegenstand der Vorstellungen
to be a “psychological investigation,” using the phrase as sub‑title. In his
early years in Lwów he is still willing to defend a form of methodological
“psychologism” in the sense in which it is opposed to metaphysicism. Cf.
(Twardowski 1897a). How is it possible that someone who sees himself as
a psychologist has had such an impact on a school that is famous for its
mathematical logic? At first sight, one may think that this psychological
attitude towards philosophical problems has exerted only a negative influ‑
ence. All Twardowski’s students advocated some form of anti‑psychologism
in the sense that psychological questions are strictly separated from logi‑
cal questions. There is also another sense, though, in which Twardowski’s
psychological way of dealing with philosophical problems is of importance
to understand the later developments. It is especially Twardowski’s meth‑
od, in which linguistic as well as psychological distinctions are equally
used, which must have convinced his students that philosophy can be done
in a scientific manner.
This psychological approach to philosophical problems Twardowski
inherited from Brentano. The main work Brentano had published at the
time is called Psychology from an Empirical Point of View. Psychology,
according to Brentano, is not to make any metaphysical presuppositions; it
is not a science of the soul, but the science of mental phenomena. Phenom‑
ena are not opposed to noumena, or things in themselves; they need not be
phenomena of something out there. Phenomena are always appearing to
someone. There may be mental or physical phenomena: examples of the
former are judgings, acts of loving, and acts of presentation; examples of
the latter are the tone one hears, or the colour one sees. Physical phenomena
are thus not events independent of someone who experiences them. They
form the object of the natural sciences, just as the mental phenomena form
the object of psychology.
For Brentano, psychology consists of a part that describes and classifies
the different kinds of mental phenomena, later to be called descriptive psy‑
chology, and a genetic psychology that formulates the laws concerning the
causal relations between the mental phenomena. Descriptive psychology is
an analysing description of our mental phenomena.1 It is prior in the order
of explanation to genetic psychology, because the latter makes use of the
concepts developed in the descriptive part, and because the exact laws of
descriptive psychology show what necessary relations there are between the
different phenomena. For example, acts of loving are necessarily dependent
upon an act of presentation that provides the object of love.
Empirical psychology is so‑called for its method. It is the method of
inner perception that Brentano understands to be empirical in the first place.
A mental phenomenon such as a sensing of red is the object of a special act
of perception, called inner perception. This act of perception is contained in
the act of sensation itself; it is a dependent aspect of the sensation. The inner
perception of the sensation of red is an inner awareness: one has a presen‑
tation of the act of sensation, and judges that it exists. The inner perception
is not the product of attention; it comes automatically with every mental
phenomenon (Brentano 1874, p. 41). Every mental phenomenon is thus ac‑
companied by an act of inner perception as part of this phenomenon, and is
thereby essentially complex. When we use the method of inner perception
to obtain an exact law, a form of ideal intuition (ideale Anschauung, p. 1)
is needed. In order to understand what classes of mental phenomena there
are, and how they depend upon each other, we need to think of the varia‑
tions that might or might not be possible. Although Brentano assumes that
inner perception is infallible, we can see in the moment of ideal intuition,
and in the description one gives of the object of inner perception that the
possibility of error is not excluded.
Psychology needs to answer the question what its object, the mental phe‑
nomenon, is. According to Brentano, one has to start with clear examples
(p. 11). Hearing a tone, thinking of a triangle, judging that God exists and
loving one’s neighbour are examples of such phenomena. A first characteristic
of these phenomena is that each is either an act of presentation or has such
an act as its foundation (p. 112). There is no judgement or fear without an act
of presenting that provides the object for one’s judgement or fear. Second,
all and only mental phenomena are the object of inner perception (p. 128).
1
Ich verstehe darunter eine analysierende Beschreibung unserer Phänomene (Brentano 1982,
p. 129).
not about the unity of consciousness through time. The way different mental
acts and their contents enter into relation with other acts and contents is
described by Brentano in terms of different kinds of parts. For example, the
red I perceive can be distinguished from the act of perceiving only by the
mind, and is therefore a dependent part. Brentano develops a mereology for
the mental in order to account of the unity and differences of our conscious‑
ness at a certain moment. For the early Brentano descriptive psychology
aims at the last mental parts from which we may obtain any complex of
mental appearances, thus giving a foundation to a characteristica univer‑
salis in Leibniz’ sense. Cf. (Brentano 1895, p. 34). Descriptive psychology
thus aims at a universal language of thought that is foundational to logic.
Brentano had an important reason for restricting his account of inten‑
tionality to the immanent object or content of the act. In the descriptive
analysis of mental phenomena it is irrelevant whether the external object
exists; in the analysis of the mental act one cannot determine anything
about the existence of the external object. It is true that Brentano himself
makes a distinction between content and object in his logic lectures, but
the distinction does not play a prominent role in Brentano’s thought as far
as the idea of intentionality is concerned. In these lectures, the distinction
is made rather for semantical reasons.2
With the question what intentionality is, and what judgement is, we have
reached questions that are of importance to philosophy. By asserting that
these questions belong to psychology, Brentano is making a claim about the
more theoretical parts of philosophy. The questions what existence is, what
truth and goodness are, and what the judgemental content is, also belong to
descriptive psychology. These questions belong to descriptive psychology,
because these concepts have their origin in a reflection upon our acts of
loving and acts of judgement (Brentano 1874, p. 89).
How do metaphysical questions and the more practical disciplines like
logic or ethics relate to descriptive psychology? For Brentano, a metaphysi‑
cal question such as the question of the validity of the ontological argument
for the existence of God cannot be answered without understanding what
existence is, and what judgement is. These questions presuppose the anal‑
ysis of the basic concepts of descriptive psychology.
Descriptive psychology gives a foundation to the universal language of
logic free from the ambiguities and grammatical structure of natural lan‑
guage. Brentano does not depart from the traditional idea of a term logic;
the logical change he proposes is essential, nonetheless. The central problem
of Aristotelian syllogistics is, according to Brentano, that it takes grammat‑
2
The content of a presentation is the meaning (Bedeutung) of a name. The external, existing
object of the presentation is named by the name (Brentano 1870, 13.018). Cf. (Chrudzimski
2001, ch.10), (Rollinger 2009, p. 7), and (Betti 2013).
ical distinctions at face value. It is for this reason that it understands every
judgement to consist of a subject and a predicate. According to Brentano,
judgement is not to be explained in terms of predication, or as a combi‑
nation of two terms, a subject and predicate. By making a distinction be‑
tween the act of judgement and its content, Brentano is able to see that the
distinguishing mark of judgement is not to be found in the combination of
subject and predicate; it is to be found on the act side. The act of judgement
is a special way in which we are directed to a content, and is in this sense
distinct from the act of presentation. The content of judgement is simply the
content of the underlying presentation, and every presented content has the
right form to be judged. This means that one can affirm the content human
being, one can affirm red, and one can affirm this tree. What can affirmation
or judgement mean on this account?
For Brentano, judging is not acknowledging the truth of a proposition
or Gedanke, as Frege would say. Platonic entities, such as Bolzano’s Sätze
an sich or Frege’s Gedanke, do not play a role in his logic. Because he
does not acknowledge propositions, no account of propositional negation is
given. Instead, Brentano has an act of denial besides the act of affirmation.
Premises and conclusions in logic are not abstract propositions, but judge‑
ments, and the laws of contradiction and excluded middle are formulated in
terms of judgements. Because Brentano does not acknowledge propositions,
judgements are for him the proper bearers of truth and falsity.
Judgement, according to Brentano, is either the acknowledgement or
the rejection of the existence of a presented content. Affirming red is ac‑
knowledging the existence of something red. Existence is thus not a predi‑
cate, and can be obtained only by reflection upon the judgemental act. The
word “is” has no meaning on its own (Brentano 1874, p. 57). The + sign
and the – sign are used by Brentano as signs that the content is affirmed,
respectively denied, and is in this sense comparable to our assertion sign.
(A B) + presents the judgement that some A are B, that an object exists that
has both the A and B marks.
The idea that existential judgements cannot be analysed in terms of sub‑
ject and predicate can already be found in Hume.3 Brentano refers, though,
to Herbart and Trendelenburg, rather than to Hume, probably because he is
opposed to Hume’s account of judgement or belief as vivid idea. Herbart
acknowledges a special judgemental form for existential judgements. Exam‑
ples of existential judgements are “There are people” (Es gibt Menschen),
but also “It rains” and “It lightens” (Herbart 1813, §63). The topic was
3
“[I]t is far from being true, that in every judgment, which we form, we unite two different
ideas; since in that proposition God is, or indeed any other, which regards existence, the idea
of existence is no distinct idea … we can thus form a proposition, which contains only one
idea” (Hume 1739, bk.1, pt. 2, p. 67, note).
soon taken up by linguists (see the next section). It may be argued that the
idea goes back to Kant’s idea that existence is not a real predicate, and that
existential judgements form a special class of judgements in which there
is no synthesis of subject and predicate, but a mere positing. Cf. (Martin
2006, p. 52).
Because judgements are for Brentano the proper bearers of truth and
falsity, the notion of truth, just like existence, can be obtained only by re‑
flection upon the act of judgement. By claiming that truth properly belongs
to judgements alone, Brentano does not have a timeless bearer of truth,
a topic that will become of central importance to Twardowski and his stu‑
dents. Brentano claims that the same judgement may change from true to
false: whereas the judgement that it is raining is now true, it may be false
in an hour, when it has stopped raining (Brentano 1889b, §55). We thus see
in what sense descriptive psychology is foundational to logic: it shows what
judgement is; it gives the basis concepts to logic, just as it does for ethics
and metaphysics, truth, goodness, existence and object; and it provides the
basic elements for a universal language of thought.
Brentano’s program forms the background of Twardowski’s early writings.
Twardowski’s notions of phenomenon, intentionality and judgement, and his
method are not identical with those of Brentano, as we will see below and
in the coming chapters, but the latter form a starting point for his thinking.
The book on the distinction between content and object is not very explicit
on the method it uses. There is a paper, though, on the relation between
psychology, physiology and philosophy from 1897 that is of interest for the
question how Twardowski understands his philosophical method, in which
psychology plays a central role. Psychology is not a part of physiology,
Twardowski argues. Each has a different object: respectively, the mental and
the physiological phenomena. The latter are in space and time, the former are
not; the physiological phenomena are the object of outer perception alone,
whereas mental phenomena are the object of inner perception (Twardowski
1897a, pp. 43, 44). One has to make a distinction between observation and
the inner perception of one’s own mental state. When one observes a tree,
one focuses on the tree by means of an act of attention. There is no such
observation of our mental acts the moment we have them, but there is a form
of inner, direct acquaintance of these acts. We know a few things about our
own mental activities, and this implies that they must be accessible to in‑
ner experience, as the outer senses do not reveal anything about our mental
activities, at least not directly. It is precisely for this reason that empirical
psychology cannot be reduced to a part of physiology, which uses only the
method of observation and outer perception.
Twardowski does not agree with Brentano that there is a strict distinction
between empirical and experimental psychology, or between descriptive and
4
Twardowski not only spent some time in Wundt’s psychological laboratory in Berlin in
1892 as was noted above, but founded the official laboratory in Lwów in 1907. Cf. (Smith
1994, p. 156), and (Jadczak 1998, p. 44), who describes Twardowski’s interest in Meinong’s
psychological laboratory in Graz, as documented in a letter to Meinong (Twardowski 1897b).
5
Twardowski refers to T. Ribot, “Enquête sur les idées générales,” Revue Philosophique 32
(1891).
2. A Philosophical Grammar
a mammal, if one judges that “horses are animals.” For Brentano, a gram‑
matical distinction is not a prima facie sign of a logical distinction. Logic
is rather dependent on psychological analysis, that is, on an analysis of the
way we think and judge.
At the end of the nineteenth century, we see a rapprochement between
linguists and logicians. In 1883, the slavist Franz Miklosich gives an
interesting analysis of impersonalia, sentences such as “It rains,” which he
calls “subjectless sentences.” These sentences are called “subjectless” by
him, because they contain only a predicate, not a subject. Miklosich refers
to Brentano’s theory of judgement as an inspiration for his linguistic views.7
The same year Brentano publishes a review of the book, in which he endorses
Miklosich’s thesis, although he is reluctant to speak about “subjectless sen‑
tences.” The term suggests that these sentences do have a predicate. Using
the “predicate” terminology presupposes that one primarily thinks of sen‑
tences in terms of subject and predicate, and one should abandon this way of
thinking (Brentano 1883, p. 190). Although Brentano’s main idea is to treat
logic separately from grammar, he considers Miklosich’s linguistic thesis to
be a confirmation of his logical thesis that the subject‑predicate structure
is not at all essential to judgements. The thesis that logical analysis should
be distinguished from linguistic analysis is also endorsed by Brentano’s
students. Thought is not to be defined as inner speech, Marty argues (Marty
1884, p. 6), but this does not mean that linguistic analysis is irrelevant to
logic. One may put the newly considered relation between logic and lin‑
guistics this way: logical analysis is to be identified with semantic analysis,
and semantic analysis is to be distinguished from grammatical analysis.
This tension between grammar, on the one hand, and logic and seman‑
tics, on the other hand, makes it necessary to study the grammatical surface
structure of the sentence, in order to understand what the logico‑semantic
deep structure of the intimated judgement is. According to Brentano’s logic,
every judgement is an acknowledgement or a rejection of existence, as we
have seen above. Existence thus belongs to the act of judgement, and is not
a simple concept on the same level as the concept of red or circle. The con‑
cept of existence can only be obtained by reflection upon the act of judge‑
ment, for A exists means A can be correctly affirmed (Marty 1894, p. 201).
Marty elucidates this point by borrowing the term “innere Sprachform”
from Humboldt. For Humboldt, the inner linguistic form is a property of
a language as a whole, which expresses the world view (Weltanschauung)
of the people using the language. Each language has its own inner linguistic
form; there is no universal language of thought, as we have seen. According
to Humboldt, the different names in Sanskrit for elephant, “the one with
7
Miklosich’s work Subjectlose Sätze (1883) is a second edition of Die Verba impersonalia
im Slavischen, which appeared in a journal in 1865.
two teeth” and “the one who drinks twice,” express different concepts. It
shows that the world view of those who spoke Sanskrit is different from the
one expressed in modern European languages. In his critique of Humboldt,
Marty gives a completely new meaning to the term innere Sprachform.
For Marty, the different names for elephant all express the same concept;
the only difference involved is a difference in inner linguistic form. Each
of the names for elephant are associated with different presentations of
the elephant thus appealing to our fantasy and aesthetic pleasure. These
presentations are, according to Marty, nothing but auxiliary presentations,
expressed by the inner linguistic form of the sentence, and do not form
part of the concept of elephant (Marty 1893, p. 115). The inner linguistic
form is thus evoked by the surface grammar of the sentence, but does not
correspond to anything in the deep structure or meaning of the phrase. Be‑
sides such figurative linguistic forms, there are also inner linguistic forms
that are produced by linguistic constructions. Take the sentence “A tiger
exists.” On a surface level, “existence” is presented as a predicate (Marty
1894, pp. 201, 225). The deep structure, though, of the sentence does not
involve either a subject or a predicate, for there is only one idea involved,
the concept of tiger. The thesis that every judgement consists of a subject
and predicate is based on a confusion of the inner form of a sentence and
the meaning of the sentence, as Marty says (Marty 1893, pp. 123‑124). Mar‑
ty distinguishes between a logical and a psychological view. The logician
abstracts from the differences in inner linguistic form, while psychology
is needed to explain the inner linguistic form. For, one can explain the dif‑
ferent inner linguistic forms only by means of the psychological laws of
association and imagination, and such an explanation has no relation to logic
(Marty 1893, p. 125, note). The form of psychology Marty is speaking about
is genetic psychology, and in this sense Marty does not deny Brentano’s
thesis that logic is to be based on descriptive psychology. We see in Marty
a linguistic approach to logic at the expense of the relation between logic
and psychology. Compared, though, to Russell’s early conception of logic
as philosophical grammar (Russell 1903), in which a linguistic distinction
is a prima facie sign of a logical distinction, Brentano and Marty clearly
distinguish between logical and linguistic analysis. Their conception of the
relation between logic and grammar is in this sense more in agreement with
Frege’s Begriffsschrift.
It is therefore of interest what Marty has to say on Frege’s Begriffs‑
schrift. First, Marty shares Frege’s thesis that the distinction between sub‑
ject and predicate is not a logical one (Marty 1884, p. 56). Second, Marty
endorses to a certain extent Frege’s distinction between judgeable content
and act of judgement. There is an agreement insofar as Marty, like Bren‑
tano, distinguishes between the “matter” or content of the judgement and
the act of judgement. Both for Frege, and for Brentano and Marty, the act
of judgement cannot be explained as a special case of an act of thought or
presentation. The act of judgement is sui generis. Marty criticises, though,
Frege’s characterisation in the Begriffsschrift of the judgeable content as
a combination of presentations (Vorstellungsverbindung; p. 57). Cf. (Frege
1879, §2). Apparently, Frege still uses the traditional terminology, although
he will not repeat this way of speaking about the judgeable content in later
writings. The point Frege wants to make is that the content needs to form
a unity in order to be able to be judged, and the horizontal is a sign that
such a unity is present. For Marty, though, the basic judgemental form is
not in need of such a sign, for a simple concept is already a judgeable con‑
tent. The concept of a house can form the matter of the judgement, and is
therefore a judgeable content in these early writings of Marty; in fact, the
Fregean distinction between judgeable and non‑judgeable contents is ab‑
sent.8 Finally, Marty criticises Frege’s thesis that negation belongs to the
judgeable content, rather than to the act of judgement. If one claims that
the matter of the judgement can be a simple concept, there is no place for
propositional negation on the side of the judgeable content. Propositional
negation can become part of the judeable content, only if one acknowledges
a that‑structure as the fundamental structure of the judgeable content: white
snow cannot be negated in this sense; one can only negate that snow is white.
Brentano’s non‑propositional account of judgement can only account for
negation by the acknowledgement of an act of denial.9
At first sight, for Twardowski, the relation between logic and language
seems to be closer than in the writings of Brentano and Marty. According
to Twardowski, although speaking and thinking are not completely parallel,
there is an analogy between mental phenomena and the linguistic forms
that express them (Twardowski 1894a, p. 10). A name is the expression
(Ausdruck) of an act of presentation; sentences that are used to make an
assertion express acts of judgement; and sentences that are used to make
requests, questions or orders are the expressions of feelings and acts of the
will (p. 11). Names are what the scholastics called “categorematic” terms;
they are not yet the expression of a complete judgement, feeling or willing,
but have an independent meaning, nonetheless, because the categorematic
term is the expression of a complete act of presentation. Following Marty,
Twardowski distinguishes three functions of a name or categorematic term:
(1) it intimates, on its own, an act of presentation occurring in the
speaker;
8
In his later writings, Marty does acknowledge a special judgeable content.
9
In his early writings, Brentano acknowledges term negation (non‑white) besides the act of
denial, but later he reduces term negation to denial.
(2) it arouses a mental content, the meaning of the term, in the person
addressed;
(3) it designates an object; the term “the sun” is a name of the sun,
Twardowski says with J.S. Mill (Twardowski 1894b, pp. 8‑10).
Is it possible that the same mental content can be in the speaker and in the
hearer as well? If the content is mental, it seems to depend on a particular
act of presentation. But, if it is possible that speaker and hearer have the
same content, the content cannot be dependent upon the particular act of
presentation of either the speaker or the hearer. In the next chapter I will
deal with these questions, and the question whether Twardowski’s semantics
is psychologistic needs to be raised there as well. Given the analogy be‑
tween speech and thought, the three functions of a name run parallel to the
three‑fold distinction between act, content and object. For, the first function
concerns the act, the second concerns the content, and the third concerns
the object of the act. Basically, the reason for this analogy is captured by
the first function of the name, to manifest a speaker’s act of presentation.
Twardowski, though, fully acknowledged that grammar cannot be
a straightforward guide to logic. Semantic ambiguities may arise because
a sentence does not give full expression to the act of judgement. In 1902,
in a paper on truth, Twardowski argues, for example, that an assertion by
means of the utterance of the sentence “It rains” is an incomplete expression
of the act of judgement. If we do not clearly distinguish between sentence
and judgement, we may think that truth is relative, because the sentence
seems to change its truth‑value, depending on whether it rains, or not (see
chapter VI). Not making the distinction between sentence and judgement
confronts us with philosophical problems that disappear as soon as we
notice the distinction. In his work on the distinction between content and
object Twardowski argues that philosophers have often confused content
and object, because the phrase “presented object” is ambiguous (see be‑
low). Philosophical problems can be disentangled only if these semantic
ambiguities are acknowledged.
We have already seen in Brentano and Marty that the syntactic structures
of language may be misleading, as far as logic is concerned. They are in need
of a form of logical analysis not unlike Russell’s paradigmatic analysis of
definite descriptions in 1905. In 1894, Twardowski gives an analysis of the
word “nothing” that can be understood as a form of logical analysis in this
sense. In order to show that there are no objectless presentations, and that
thinking of nothing does not form a refutation of this thesis, Twardowski
argues that the word “nothing” is not a name, not a categorematic term,
and therefore does not intimate an act of presentation. “Nothing” is rather
a syncategorematic expression, that is, an expression that does not have an
independent meaning. On Twardowski’s account this means that the term does
not intimate an act of presentation on its own, and that there is no content
of an act of presentation that can function as meaning of the term, without
invoking the meaning of other terms. An explanation of the meaning of
“nothing” can only be given in a certain context. A full analysis of the term
can only be given if we understand the term as part of a negative sentence
(Twardowski 1894a, p. 23; see III.3). As “nothing” is not a categorematic
term, neither “Nothing exists” nor “Nothing does not exist” makes sense;
nor does it make sense to say “There is nothing.” In this way we can refute
the solipsist, Twardowski says (p. 35). A grammatical distinction cannot be
treated as prima facie evidence of a philosophical distinction.10
As far as semantic ambiguities are concerned, Twardowski uses Mar‑
ty’s notion of inner linguistic form to argue that we may express the same
thought by means of different linguistic forms. According to Twardowski,
the expression “land without mountains” has the same meaning as the term
“flat land”, and the corresponding presentations have the same content (der
Inhalt… ist ein und dasselbe; p. 99). The difference between the two expres‑
sions consists merely in a difference in inner linguistic form (p. 97). Just
as the etymological origin of a word (the Etymon) is no longer part of the
meaning of a word, so the inner linguistic form is not a part of the meaning.
The inner linguistic form is not a linguistic entity, but a presentation that is
connected to the phrase “land without mountains,” mediating the intended
meaning. The inner linguistic form is a presentation that functions as a sign
of the intended content flat land. For this reason, Twardowski says that the
presentation of a land without mountains is an indirect presentation (see
below). The phrase “land without mountains” arouses in the hearer a pre‑
sentation of a judgement in which mountains of this land are denied (p. 98).
This presented judgement is an auxiliary presentation, by means of which
the hearer is able to determine the intended meaning of the name, which is
identical to the meaning of the term “flat land.” Twardowski uses this point
to argue against Bolzano’s denial of the thesis that there corresponds to every
part of a presented content a part of the object of presentation. According
to Bolzano, a presentation of a land without mountains presents an object
that does not have mountains as its parts, whereas the content does have
the content of mountain as a part (Bolzano 1837, §63). On Twardowski’s
analysis, mountain is not a part of the intended content or meaning of the
name, and he is thus able to defend the traditional thesis that the material
parts of the content correspond to parts of the object.
Twardowski also makes a distinction between direct and indirect presenta‑
tions. Direct or intuitive (anschauliche; p. 108) presentations, as Twardowski
10
Twardowski’s philosophical grammar is thus more critical towards grammatical distinctions
than Russell is in what he calls a “philosophical grammar.” Cf. (Russell 1903, p. 6).
calls them, we may have, for example, of colours and numerals. In every
presentation, an intuitive presentation is involved. Following Benno Kerry
in this respect, Twardowski says that indirect presentations present their
object by means of a relation to some other object, which is apprehend‑
ed in a direct way. We have no direct presentation of Socrates’ father as
Sophronikos, but we have an indirect presentation of him as the father of
Socrates (Twardowski 1894a, p. 95). Presentations containing a negation
or incompatible characteristics are all indirect, just as presentations of an
object by means of a sign. According to Twardowski, all indirect presen‑
tations are presented by means of an auxiliary presentation. I come back
to Twardowski’s concept of auxiliary and indirect presentations in chapter
III. 3, the last sub‑section, where I deal with Twardowski’s account of the
presentation of general objects.
Marty gives an interesting solution to the problem whether the parts of
the content correspond to parts of the object. He rightly makes the point
that Twardowski does not clearly distinguish between indirect presentations
and presentations by means of auxiliary presentations, that is, by means
of an inner linguistic form. According to Marty, the distinction between
direct and indirect presentations, also called the dstinction between proper
and improper presentations, concerns the content of the presentations, and
thereby the meaning of the corresponding names. Proper presentations
present the object by means of intuitive presentations of the object; the
object is directly given in intuition. These proper presentations are essen‑
tial for a universal language of thought. For, in “the content of our proper
thoughs of universals and relations lie the building blocks also for all our
improper presenting,” (Marty 1892, p. 292). Symbolic presentations are
a special kind of improper or indirect presentations. In arithmetic nearly
all our presentations are symbolic (Marty 1884, pp. 13-14), for we present
the numbers by the representative function of numerals. But, not all our
thought can be symbolic or blind in this way. The simple concepts need
to present themselves as what they are. And, with respect to judgements,
some judgements need to be insightful. Apparently, insightful judgements
are based upon a direct or proper presentation of the content. Without such
a foundation, arithmetic and all science would be nothing but empty words
(leerer Wortkram). According to Marty, the presentation of a mountain is
a real part of the presentation of a land without mountains, and not merely
an auxiliary presentation, as Twardowski thinks. The presentation of a land
without mountains is an indirect presentation of a flat land. This means that,
according to Marty, the terms “land without mountains” and “flat land” do not
have the same meaning. The difference between the two terms is not merely
a psychological difference given in terms of association and imagination,
as would be the case if there were merely a difference in inner linguistic
form. Marty’s answer to the problem is that for proper presentations alone
one may correctly assert that to every part of the content belongs a part of
the object (Marty 1894, p. 219, note). I think Marty’s critique is right. The
difference between the concept of a land without mountains and a flat land
does not merely concern our psychological associations. These concepts
have a different syntactic structure; they are not isomorphic, as Carnap
would say, and can therefore not be identical in content.
Marty’s distinction between direct and indirect presentations goes back to
Leibniz’ traditional distinction between intuitive and symbolic presentations.
In his Reflections on Knowledge, Truth and Ideas, Leibniz distinguishes be‑
tween intuitive and symbolic cognition (the Latin term cognitio is a broad
notion, equivalent to “apprehension” rather than to “knowledge”). According
to Leibniz, it is not always possible to intuit the whole nature of a thing, in
which case we use signs instead, for brevity’s sake, knowing that “to give
the explanation is in our power.” Of a distinct and primitive notion, that is,
a notion that is not composite, we can only have intuitive cognition, but in
algebra and arithmetic we are often in need of symbolic cognition. When the
notion is highly complex, we are unable to think all the notions that are part
of it, and use the words that represent these notions instead (Leibniz 1684,
p. 5). The distinction is of importance for Leibniz’ conception of a univer‑
sal language of thought, a truly philosophical language, in which the ideas
are reduced to a kind of “alphabet of human thought” that would amount
to a Cabala of mystical vocables, or to the lingua characteristica of the
magi (Leibniz undated, p. 12). When we use this language, we apprehend
the ideas of the primitive signs intuitively, whereas the more complex ideas
need to be apprehended in a symbolic way. By means of this philosophical
grammar we are able to avoid the vague and uncertain meanings of words,
and replace them by determinate characters (Leibniz undated, p. 14). Both
Bolzano and Brentano have used the idea of symbolic presentation in their
writings (cf. (Brentano 1895, p. 34) and (Bolzano 1837, §90)), and the idea
plays an important role in Husserl’s early writings.
For Twardowski, symbolic presentations are a special kind of indirect
or improper presentations (Twardowski 1894a, p. 75). If we think of the
number 1000, we may think of it as being related to a sign, the numeral
“1000,” of which we do have an intuitive presentation. As every presenta‑
tion, a symbolic presentation contains an intuitive presentation, not of the
intended object, but of the sign that represents the object. Although a blind
man cannot have a direct presentation of red, he can think of the colour red
by means of thinking of a sound that functions as a sign of the colour. For
Twardowski, the distinction between direct and indirect presentations is
fundamental to his philosophical grammar. All presentations are founded on
direct presentations. Without such a direct presentation, our presentations
will be abstract and indeterminate, and, when expressed in words, will give
rise to an ambiguity in language. Without symbolic presentations we would
never be able to express ourselves clearly concerning objects that cannot
be given intuitively, as in arithmetic. The distinction between direct and
indirect presentations is thus part of a universal language in Leibniz’ sense,
where primitive signs correspond to intuitive ideas. The idea of a universal
language of thought is essential to Twardowski’s philosophical grammar.
Linguistics also plays a more direct role in Twardowski’s writings. The
semantic distinction between attributive and modifying terms, and the gram‑
matical distinction between the external and the internal object of a sentence
are of importance in Twardowski’s explanation of philosophical concepts
and distinctions. In order to get an idea of the importance of Twardowski’s
philosophical grammar for philosophy today, I will deal with these distinc‑
tions in separate sections more from a systematic than from a historical point
of view. How Twardowski uses these distinctions in order to solve certain
philosophical problems will be dealt with in the next chapters.
The distinction between actions and products forms one of the important
elements of Twardowski’s philosophy. As will become clear in chapter IV,
the distinction is used by Twardowski to disambiguate philosophical notions
like judgement and knowledge. The distinction is central to Twardowski’s
argument against psychologism in the paper “Actions and Products; Some
Remarks from the Borderline of Psychology, Grammar and Logic,” of
which a first version appeared in German in 1911. Typical of his method
of philosophical grammar, Twardowski elucidates the distinction by means
of a grammatical distinction. There is a grammatical difference between
the two sentences:
(1) Hans is reading a letter.
(2) Hans is writing a letter.
Grammarians use the term “direct object” to denote the grammatical func‑
tion of a phrase that is called the accusative in Latin and German. Although
“a letter” is in both sentences the direct object, the accusative, there is a dif‑
ference between the two occurrences. In (1), “a letter” is the accusative of
the external object of the sentence, that is, the indicated object or person
makes up the scope of the activity indicated by the verb, or, as Twardowski
puts it, the object (or person) exists before the activity that is directed to
it. In (2), “a letter” is the resultant accusative, that is, the object indicated
11
Im Akkusativ des affizierten (oder ‘äussern’) Objektes steht … eine (konkrete) Sache oder
Person, die in ganzer Ausdehnung das Ziel, den Wirkungsbereich einer Verbalhandlung (oder
des Agens einer solchen) bildet … Kommt eine Sache … erst durch die Verbalhandlung zu‑
stande, spricht man vom effizierten Objekt oder Akkusativ des Ergebnisses (diese beiden
werden auch als ‘Akkusativ des Inhalts’ zusammengefasst), z.B. ‘eine Münze schlagen’, d.h.,
sie schlagend herstellen. Eduard Schwyzer’s Griechische Grammatik auf der Grundlage von
Karl Brugmanns Griechischer Grammatik, München: C.H. Beck, 1959, zweiter Band, p. 71.
12
See chapter IV. The German term Funktion is better suited than the English term “action”
to cover, besides physical actions, both active and passive psychical processes.
13
Compare A Comprehensive Grammar of the English Language, Longman, 1985.
14
See (Twardowski 1912a, p. 160). Cf. Historisches Wörterbuch der Rhetorik, G. Ueding
(ed.) (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1996). The term “etymon” is used in
the meaning of stem.
15
The distinction between act and product is acknowledged in the scholastic tradition, espe‑
cially the Thomistic one; compare Jacques Maritain’s Petite Logique: La distinction essentielle
entre l’acte de l’esprit (jugement) et l’ouvrage logique construit par lui (proposition ou énon‑
ciation) (1933, p. 5). It is to be noted that the notion of proposition is not to be identified with
the notion of proposition used in modern analytic philosophy: the former has a declarative
structure, whereas the Russellian proposition has the structure of a that‑clause. In Aquinas the
product is called the terminus (ad quem). As in Twardowski, the terminus of an act of knowing,
the “inner word” or inner object, is distinguished from the external object of knowledge.
4. Modifying Terms16
Introduction
Twardowski wrote a small paper “On the logic of adjectives”, published
in Polish in 1927, in which he proposes a classification for adjectives like
“counterfeit,” “purported,” “true” and “actual.” Terms like “fake,” “pure,”
“mere,” “true,” “real,” “actual,” “authentic,” “apparent,” “proper,” “genuine”
have peculiar logical properties, and they are of interest to the linguist and
logician alike. These terms behave in a systematic way, and are therefore not
on a par with irony, or other forms of non‑literal meaning. There is something
enigmatic about adjectives like “fake,” “false,” “mere,” “true” and “real.”
Some of these terms behave strangely in inferences: a fake Rembrandt is not
a Rembrandt. Others seem to be redundant: there is no difference between
gold and true gold. We do not know how to give a conceptual analysis of
complex concepts like false friend or fake gun. None of our methods of
analysis seems to be able to cope with terms like “real” and “fake.” The
method of conceptual analysis as we know it from Moore’s early writings is
a whole‑part analysis and cannot help us here. Conceptual analysis may also
be conceived along Fregean lines, as analysis of the content of a judgement.
The content of the judgement John is married to Sue may be analysed into
John and married to Sue, into Sue and John is married to, or into John and
Sue, in that order, and being married to, depending on the kind of inference
one needs to draw. On Frege’s account, we obtain three different concepts
as a result of the three possibilities to analyse the judgeable content. We
may also conceive of logical analysis along Russell’s analysis of definite
descriptions. The linguistic sentence of which the definite description forms
a part is reconstructed with a logical aim. In natural language, the definite
description seems to have an independent meaning; on a deeper level, though,
we can only give a logical analysis of the phrase when the linguistic context
is taken into account. We are in need of a contextual explanation of some
of our terms, and this general point is not irrelevant when we try to give
a logical analysis of terms such as “fake” and “false.” None of these meth‑
ods of analysis, though, is able to capture the relation between the concepts
gun and fake gun, between wine and pure wine, or between gold and real
gold. The concept real is not simply a part of the concept real gold, nor is
the concept friend part of the concept false friend in any straightforward
sense of the term “part.”
16
This section is an improvement of my paper (Schaar 2014a), which was offered to Jan
Woleński as part of a Festschrift. The paper is used with kind permission of Palgrave Mac‑
millan.
“false,” at least in some languages, and that these terms are therefore to be
classified as attributive. As I am going to argue that these terms are not at‑
tributive, I should have a different criterion to distinguish attributive from
non‑attributive terms, at least, if it is true that these terms do sometimes
split from their noun.
At first sight, non‑attributive terms do not seem to form a homogenous
class, for the criterion to distinguish them from attributive terms appears to be
disjunctive. As a first suggestion, one might say that a term is non‑attributive
if either of the following two inferences is invalid, where A is an adjective:
(I) a is (an) A N.
Therefore, a is (an) N.
(II) a is (an) A N.
Therefore, a is A*.17
The invalidity of (I) suffices to classify modifying terms like “fake” and
“false” as non‑attributive, whereas the invalidity of (II) would make it possi‑
ble to classify terms like “real,” “mere” and “good” as non‑attributive. This
criterion needs improvement, though, for the second inference is often not
simply invalid; for quite some adjectives, it is rather that “a is A”, “this is
pure”, does not make sense because these adjectives are non‑predicative. Can
we improve our criterion? Is it possible to formulate a positive, simple cri‑
terion to distinguish attributive terms from non‑attributive terms? I think so.
A term A is attributive precisely if inference (III) is valid.
(III) a is (an) A N.
Therefore, a is A* & a is (an) N.
If a term does not have this logical property, it is non‑attributive. It may
be the case that the inference is not valid, because the conclusion is not
grammatical.
orchestra. Relative terms are qua terms: someone who is a good pianist is
good as a (qua) pianist. Someone may be a good pianist and a man, but not
a good man. For relative terms, the following inference is invalid, where R is
a relative term, a is the subject term and N and N’ are nouns or noun phrases:
a is an A N & a is an N’.
Therefore, a is an A N’.
And inference (II) is also invalid for relative terms:
(II) a is an A N.
Therefore, a is A*. 18
It is for this reason that inference (III) is invalid for these terms, and that
they are non‑attributive.
There is an agreement between relative terms and terms like “false” and
“fake.” Both inferences just mentioned are invalid for terms like “false” and
“fake.” It is true that we sometimes say: “This is (a) fake,” but such a sen‑
tence is elliptical, precisely because it may be a fake pistol, but a real toy.
There is also an important difference between relative terms and terms
like “false” and “fake.”
(1) For relative terms the following inference is valid, whereas it is in‑
valid for “false” and “fake”, as we will see below:
(I) a is an A N.
Therefore, a is an N.
For, a good pianist is a pianist, just as a big mouse is a mouse, but false
gold is not gold.
There is another, related difference (2) between the group consisting of
terms like “fake,” “real” and “pure,” on the one hand, and terms like “good”
and “great,” on the other hand. “He is a good pianist” gives an answer to
the question: “To which group of pianists does he belong, the good or the
bad ones?”. The good pianists, if there are any, form part of the extension
of pianists. Just as small mice form part of the extension of mice, and we
may thus speak of two kinds of mice, the small and the big ones. But, there
are not two kinds of guns, fake guns and other guns, nor two kinds of gold,
gold and real gold. This is precisely because terms like “fake” and “real”
neither simply qualify the property denoted by the noun phrase, nor are
they attributes of the object denoted by the subject term. The question is
sometimes raised what kind of adjective the term “dead” is. Because there
are not two kinds of man, the dead and the living, “dead” seems not to be
18
See footnote above. The relative term “big” is thus a different word than the absolute term
“big.”
a relative term. As Aristotle remarks, it is false to call a dead man a man (De
Interpretatione, chapter xi, especially 21a18‑33). As Brentano saw, “dead”
is a modifying term (see the last section below).
There is a third way (3) to distinguish the relative terms from other
non‑attributive terms. It makes sense to say “He is good,” “She is skilful,”
or “That is a big one” (speaking about a mouse). This is caused by the fact
that these terms qualify the subject qua so and so. Thus, I can say of him
qua pianist that he is good. So, if the context is one in which young pianists
are contesting for a price, one simply says “he is good (but she deserves
the price).” In contrast, it is difficult to give meaning to phrases like “This
is real” or “This is pure,” and these phrases might even be called ungram‑
matical. And, although there may be a context in which one can say “This
is fake,” one cannot say “It is fake” qua gun, or “false” qua gold.
Apart from the Relative Terms, There Are Two Kinds of Non‑Attributive,
Non‑Modifying Terms: Restrictive and Restorative Terms
Among the non‑modifying terms one may distinguish between the terms
“mere” and “pure”, on the one hand, and terms like “real,” “proper” and
“authentic”, on the other hand. The latter terms have a counterpart: “real”
and “fake;” “true” and “false;” “proper” and “improper;” “authentic” and
“inauthentic.” When it is suggested that someone is a false friend, the an‑
swer might be “No, he is a real friend”. To understand the meaning of “real
friend,” one needs to understand the meaning of “not being a real friend,”
that is, of “being a false friend.” It is the negative use that wears the trou‑
sers, as Austin says (Austin 1962, p. 70). We first have to understand what
it is for something not to be real gold, that is, to be a material that looks
like gold but does not have the chemical properties that would make it into
a piece of gold. Only against this background does the phrase “real gold”
get a meaning. Saying that this is not a real Rembrandt, is not denying that it
is a painting, nor is one generally claiming that it is a forgery. The question
is rather whether it is painted by Rembrandt, or by one of his pupils. Only
against the background of this question is the assertion that it is, or that it
is not, a real Rembrandt given sense. The question might also have been
whether it is a forgery or not, and then asserting that it is a real Rembrandt
has a different meaning. Of course, the term “true” can also be used in an
ironic sense, as T.S. Eliot uses the term “the True Church” in his poem “The
Hippopotamus,” but even here the name “True Church” is given a meaning
only in contrast to the way the name “hippopotamus” is used in the poem.
The hippopotamus stands for a non‑institutionalised religion of flesh and
blood, whereas the True Church is a church of dead dogma’s. In the man‑
uscript on the theory of judgement, Twardowski explains these terms as
“adjectives which retain the meaning of nouns” (Twardowski 1902‑1903,
p. 171). Later, Twardowski says that terms like “real,” “true” and “actual”
may restore the change in meaning that was caused by such terms as “fake,”
“false” and “former” (Twardowski 1927, p. 142). It is for this reason that
these terms come in pairs: “true” and “false;” “actual” and “former.” Bor‑
rowing Twardowski’s terminology, we may call them restorative terms.
The terms “mere” and “pure” do not have the same complexity as the
restorative terms. They seem to contain a negation: mere belief is belief
and nothing more, just as a mere child is a child and can therefore not be
treated as an adult. “Pure wine” is wine that is not mixed with anything of
lesser value; “pure wine” is wine and nothing less. The difference between
“mere” and “pure” is not very strict, for the German translation of “mere
nonsense” is “reiner Unsinn,” and we also can say “pure nonsense.” These
terms do not function the way negation does, for “mere” and “pure” cannot
be iterated, and it is not negated that a is an N. For, pure wine is certainly
wine, just as mere nonsense is definitely nonsense. Terms like “pure” and
“mere” restrict the application of the noun N: the object we talk about is
nothing more or less than N. For this reason I call “mere” and “pure” re‑
strictive terms. It seems that a language is in need of only two restrictive
terms: one corresponding to “mere”, and another corresponding to “pure”.
Because it does not make sense to say that something is real, actual, pure,
or mere, inference (III) is not valid in the case of restorative and restrictive
terms, and these terms are thus non‑attributive. They differ from relative
terms insofar as they are not qua terms: we do not say that something is
pure qua water.
From the premise that this is a fake gun it does not follow that this is a gun.
There Are Two Kinds of Modifying Terms: Privative and Modal Terms
Modal terms like “potential” in “potential candidate” or “alleged” in “al‑
leged murderer” are clearly modifying in the sense that an alleged murderer
need not be a murderer. From the fact that he is the alleged murderer, we
can neither draw the conclusion that he is not a murderer, nor that he is.
The intensional context makes it impossible to make either inference here,
and such terms may be called modal modifying terms. The terms “putative,”
“questionable” and “disputed” also belong to this class.19
Privative terms are distinguished from the modal terms by the validity
of the following inference, where A is a privative term,
(IV) a is (an) A N.
Therefore, a is not (an) N.
The term A may be an adjective, like “botched” or “false,” an adjectivally
used noun, like “toy,” or a prefix, like “non” or “in.” The validity of the
inference implies that calling someone a false friend means that one is
committed to assert that he is not a friend, although one has not asserted
yet that he is not a friend.
There are Two Kinds of Privative Terms: Pure and Non‑Pure Terms
There are quite some prefixes that are purely privative, think of “non,” “in,”
and “un,” or the Greek alpha privative, and, perhaps, “ex.” These terms do
not simply negate of a the quality denoted by N; they rather indicate that
a has the positive contrary of that quality. We call something “nonsense,” not
simply because it is lacking sense, but because it is expected to make sense,
while not fulfilling this expectation. The purely privative terms should not
be understood as negation.20 Like negation, they are not categormatic terms.
But, whereas negation is a propositional connective, denoting a function
from truth‑values to truth‑values, the purely privative term is non‑attributive,
and therefore denotes a function from concepts to concepts.21 In the case of
purely privative terms, the following inference is valid:
19
Benjamin Schnieder (2007, p. 533) has called these terms “partly modifying,” because some
apparent idiots are idiots, while others are not.
20
Aristotle clearly saw the point in chapter x of the Categories: “Names and verbs that are
indefinite (and thereby opposite), such as ‘not‑man’ and ‘not‑just’, might be thought to be
negations without a name and a verb. But they are not. For a negation must always be true or
false; but one who says ‘not‑man’ – without adding anything else – has no more said something
true or false (indeed rather less so) than one who says ‘man’.” (Cat. 20a31‑36).
21
Roberto Poli’s remark that “the modifying expression is of a syncategorematic type, i.e. that
it behaves like a connective” (Poli 1993, p. 44), should be qualified: the modifying expres‑
Questions of Method
Can we now broaden the method of logical analysis so that the relation be‑
tween concepts such as friend, false friend, and true friend becomes clear?
One can start with a classification that can be given for different kinds of
adjectives by considering their logical properties, that is, by considering the
way they behave in inferences, as we have done above. Second, one may
raise the question how a concept such as wooden horse is formed. Stan‑
dard concepts like red jacket are obtained by adding to the concept jacket
the concept red. The concept wooden horse can be constructed by starting
with the concept horse, of which a part is deleted, namely living being;
the next step is to substitute for the deleted part a new concept, here made
of wood. A concept like nonsense is formed by applying the function non
to the concept sense, thereby obtaining a concept which is the opposite or
the contrary of the concept sense. The concept false gold is constructed by
applying the function false to the concept gold, thus obtaining the concept
not gold, and adding the concept having the appearance of being gold, and,
perhaps, pretending to be gold in order to obtain the more complex concept.
The concept of true friend turns out to be a more complicated one: first, the
function non is applied to he concept false friend; the concept true friend is
thus identical with the concept non – false friend. Second, the concept false
friend is obtained by applying the function false to the concept friend, ob‑
taining the concept not being a friend, while adding the concept appearing
to be a friend, and, perhaps, pretending to be a friend. Although the concept
false friend does not have that of friend as its part, it cannot be understood
without understanding what a friend is. The concept friend has thus a logi‑
cal priority over the concept false friend, and the latter is logically prior to
the concept of true friend.
Like standard attributive terms, and like relative terms, privative terms are
subsective, she argues. In our terminology, inference I would be valid for
privative terms, according to Partee. She gives three arguments for this
original thesis.
(1) Because one can sensibly say “Is that gun real or fake?”, the term
“gun” must include both real and fake guns among its extension.
(2) Unlike modal adjectives, and like attributive adjectives, modifying
terms can split in some languages (This is a gun that is fake), and in some
languages they can even precede the noun, as in Polish Fałszywe znaleźliśmy
banknoty (False we‑found banknotes).
Finally, (3) this gives us a possibility to explain in what sense terms
like “real” and “true” have meaning, and to show that they are not merely
redundant or tautologous. For, real guns form now a sub‑class of all guns
in the appropriate context.
What can we answer to Partee? It is true that there is an important agree‑
ment between relative terms like “good” and “skilful,” and modifying terms,
but, I think, for a different reason than Partee believes. Their agreement
consists in the fact that in both cases the inference
a is (an) A N.
Therefore, a is A*, and a is (an) N.
is invalid. Relative terms may therefore be classified as non‑attributive.
Furthermore, there is an agreement between relative and privative terms:
in the appropriate context, we can say “This is fake,” and “This one is
false” (speaking about teeth), just as we can say “He is good” and “She is
skilful.” There are also three differences between terms like “good” and
“skilful,” on the one hand, and modifying terms, on the other hand, as we
have seen in the sub‑section on the distinction between relative terms and
other non‑attributive terms.
With respect to Partee’s first point (1), one can answer that the fact that
“Is this Rembrandt real or false?” makes sense, does not imply that “false”
is subsective, and thus an attributive term. It does not imply that the term
“(being a) Rembrandt” is used here as a general term including both true
and false Rembrandt’s. The general term is used in a deviant way for what
people call a “Rembrandt”; in that sense we may perhaps say “That Rem‑
brandt is false.” But, there are not two kinds of Rembrandt, the true and
the false ones, just as there are not two kinds of gun, the real and the fake
ones. In this sense there is a crucial difference between privative terms and
subsective or attributive terms.
Regarding argument (2), although we can sensibly say “Zeus is a god
who is fictitious” instead of “Zeus is a fictitious god,” this does not mean
that there are two kinds of god: fictitious and real ones. Possibility of split‑
vollständig ändert (Twardowski 1894a, p. 13). In the main text below (III.1) I have given an
interpretation of Twardowski that would not be vulnerable to Schnieder’s critique.
23
Markus Stepanians and Arianna Betti have already pointed to the Bolzano side of the topic.
Cf. (Stepanians 1998, p. 23) and (Betti 2006, p. 59).
24
Weidemann translates the example as follows: Von etwas Nichtseiendem kann aber nicht
deshalb, weil es ein vermeintliches (Seiendes) ist, wahrheitsgemäss ausgesagt werden, es sei
ein Seiendes. Denn die (blosse) Meinung, (es sei), hat man von ihm ja nicht etwa deshalb,
weil es (seiend) wäre, sondern gerade deshalb, weil es nicht(seiend) ist (Weidemann 1994,
pp. 24-25).
Twardowski gives in the first section of his treatise on the content and
object of presentations a quote from Höfler’s Logic. 1 Höfler, in reaction
to the Kantian thesis that we can never know anything about the things in
themselves, argues that the word “object” is ambiguous. On the one hand,
it may indicate the object to which the act is directed, and which exists in
itself (an sich), or, as he also puts it, which is assumed to be independent
of the act; on the other hand, it may indicate the object existing “in” us, the
more or less approximating “picture” of the real object. This “quasi‑picture”
or sign is the content of the act. This content is also called the “immanent
or intentional object” of the act (Höfler 1890, §6, p. 7). The distinction as
it is meant in logic and psychology should be independent of metaphysical
claims about being as such (das an sich Seiende; idem). Although Höfler
does not say more about the distinction, all of Höfler’s theses are endorsed
by Twardowski. Both for Höfler and Twardowski, the distinction has to be
made by every philosopher, although each philosopher may give a different
account of the ontological status of the act’s content and object. The distinc‑
tion is philosophically neutral, and is, as a psychological distinction, prior to
any philosophical theory. Although Twardowski starts with a psychological
account of the distinction, he is also interested in metaphysical questions,
and in the philosophical arguments for it. The question what the ontolog‑
ical status of the object of our acts is, is not neglected by Twardowski. At
first sight it may seem that contradictory claims are made concerning the
ontological status of the object. On the one hand, the object is said to be
1
It is especially the first edition of the Logik that is relevant here. The book is written with
the co‑operation of Meinong.
This does not mean that, according to Twardowski, the meaning of the
expression type changes. It is rather that he is speaking of the meaning
of a particular occurrence of a term, that is, the meaning of the term in this
particular context. The meaning of the expression in the context of a mod‑
ifying term is different from the meaning it has in more standard contexts.
As Twardowski follows Brentano’s existential account of judgement, one
may give the following analysis of the distinction: If A is an attributive
term, and B is a noun, the inference from (A B) + to (B) + is valid. Given
that “German” is an attributive term, one can infer that there is a pistol from
the premise that there is a German pistol. A German pistol is a certain kind
of pistol. If A is a modifying term, the inference from (A B) + to (B) + is
invalid. “[I]f one says “dead man,” one uses a modifying adjective, since
a dead man is not a man” (p. 11).
Some words can be used attributively in one context, and modifying in
another, as the word “false” in, respectively, “false judgement” and “false
gold.” A false judgement is a kind of judgement, but false gold is not a kind
of gold. Adjectives like “presented” and “painted” can be used in both ways.
One may speak of a “painted landscape” in two senses: one may speak about
a landscape near Amsterdam that is painted. Here “painted” is used attribu‑
tively. 2 One may also speak of a “painted landscape” when speaking about
2
Der Zusatz ‘gemalt’, in diesem Sinne zum Worte ‘Landschaft’ hinzugefügt, modificiert die
Bedeutung des Wortes ‘Landschaft’ keineswegs; er ist ein wahrhaft determinierender Zusatz,
welcher angibt, dass die Landschaft in einer bestimmten Relation zu einem Bilde steht, in
einer Relation, welche die Landschaft ebensowenig aufhören macht, eine Landschaft zu sein,
als… (Twardowski 1894a, p. 14).
a painting, that is, “painted” is used as modifying term. 3 From the judgement
(painted landscape) +, one is not allowed to draw the conclusion (landscape)
+, when “painted” is used as a modifying term. The example is not chosen
by accident, as one may characterize the activity of presenting as a kind of
mental picturing (eine Art geistigen Abbildens). Cf. (Twardowski 1894a,
p. 14). The object is presented by means of a content, which functions as
a kind of picture of the object. Just as the picture is for the painter a means
(ein Mittel; p. 17) to present the landscape, so the presented content is a kind
of picture by means of which the object is presented (p. 18).
In the analogy, we substitute “presented” for “painted;” “presented” may
be used both attributively and modifyingly; we substitute “object” for “land‑
scape;” and we substitute “content” for “picture.” The phrase “presented
object” may refer the object of presentation, in which case “presented” is
used attributively, or it may be used to refer to the content of presentation. In
the latter case, “presented” is used as a modifying term: the presented object
is thus not a certain kind of object. A point to be remembered when we will
compare Twardowski’s account with the traditional representational account
of ideas. The presented object is a content, just as the painted landscape is
a picture. The presented object is thus identical with the presented content,
where “presented” in the first occurrence is used in a modifying sense,
whereas it is used in its attributive sense in “presented content” (pp. 14-15).
Twardowski starts the section with another, related analogy between
painting and presenting. As a preparation for the elucidation of the distinc‑
tion between content and object, he argues that we can speak about a picture
and about a content in two ways. In the phrase “painted picture” (gemaltes
Bild), the term “painted” is used as an attributive term: a painted picture is
indeed a picture. In this sense the painted picture, the result of the activity
of painting, is identical with the painted landscape. In the phrase “painted
landscape,” as it is used here, “painted” is a modifying term: a painted land‑
scape is not a landscape; it is a picture (“die gemalte Landschaft ist eben
keine Landschaft,” p. 13). In a similar way, we can say that the content of
a presentation and the presented object are one and the same (p. 15). The
term “presented” is used here as a modifying term, for a presented object
is not an object, but a content.4
3
Sagt man dagegen von der Landschaft, sie sei gemalt, so erscheint die Bestimmung ‘gemalt’
als eine modificierende, denn die gemalte Landschaft ist eben keine Landschaft, sondern …
ein Bild (Twardowski 1894a, pp. 13-14).
4
So, in this passage Twardowski does not speak about the distinction between content and
object. I therefore do not follow Fréchette’s reading: the analogy is here not between a picture
and a presented content, on the one hand, and a painted picture and an object of presentation,
on the other hand. Cf. (Fréchette 2010, pp. 231-232). That analogy is introduced only later
on in the text. In my interpretation of the passage, the identity of the painted picture and the
painted landscape is not difficult to understand; in both cases, we speak about the painting.
The distinction between content and object can be used to argue that
Kerry’s distinction between the “presented as such” (Vorgestellter als sol‑
cher, p. 19) and the “presented plain and simple” (Twardowski 1894b, p. 17;
Vorgestellter schlechtweg) is not clear. The phrase “presented as such” is
still ambiguous. Both the object and the content of an act of presentation
can be understood as “presented:” in the first case, the term is used in the
attributive sense: the object is presented; in the latter case, it is used in its
modifying sense: the presented object is not an object, but a content (p. 20).
The distinction is immediately relevant for Twardowski’s interpretation
of the Brentanian account of judgement: what is affirmed or denied is the
object, not the content of an act of presentation (pp. 15-16). When we say
that an object is or is not (ein Gegenstand sei oder sei nicht; p. 16), we are
talking about the presented object as object, not about the presented content.
Sometimes, though quite reluctantly, Twardowski calls the act’s content
an “intentional object,” to be contrasted with the real object, apparently
following an existing terminology that was already noted by Höfler: “It can
only be confusing when one takes at times the intentional object – thus the
content – at other times, the real object as the object of a presentation.” 5 The
term “intentional” in the phrase “intentional object” has to be understood in
its modifying sense, and the term “real” (wirklich) used by Twardowski in the
same sentence is a restorative term, that is, a term that restores the original
meaning of the noun after it has been modified in a prior context (see II.4).
In contrast to Höfler, Twardowski presents arguments for the distinction
between content and object, which is for him a real distinction, and not
merely a conceptual distinction. For these arguments, Twardowski refers
to Benno Kerry, another student of Brentano, who must have stimulated
Twardowski to read Bolzano’s Wissenschaftslehre in relation to the distinc‑
tion, and the question whether there are objectless presentations, as Kerry
often refers to Bolzano in these contexts.6 Twardowski gives four possible
arguments, of which he takes one to be based on a mistake. The first two
arguments are formulated independently of any linguistic distinctions: (1)
the content always exists as part of the act, while the object may not exist.
When I think of a golden mountain, the content of my thought exists, but
a golden mountain does not exist; (2) the object may have properties that
the content does not have. The golden mountain is made of gold, but the
5
Cf. (Twardowski 1894b, p. 38). Wie es also nur verwirrend sein kann, wenn man als Object
einer Vorstellung bald den intentionalen Gegenstand derselben, also ihren Inhalt, bald ihren
wirklichen Gegenstand bezeichnet (Twardowski 1894a, p. 40).
6
According to Twardowski, the writings of Benno Kerry drew his attention to Bolzano’s
Wissenschaftslehre (Twardowski 1926, p. 24). In his Habilitationsschrift, Twardowski refers
to Bolzano, Zimmermann and Kerry as those who have made the distinction between content
and object (Twardowski 1894a, p. 17). For a comparison of Twardowski’s distinction with the
one in Bolzano and Zimmermann. See (Fréchette 2010, pp. 239ff.).
7
The content of a presentation is the meaning (Bedeutung) of a name. The external, existing
object of the presentation is named by the name (Brentano 1870, 13.018); cf. Chrudzimski
(2001, ch.1) and Rollinger (2009, p. 7). Sohn der Phänerete and der Weiseste der Athener name
the same object, but have a different meaning: Sie nennen unter Vermittlung verschiedener
Bedeutung (Brentano 1870, 13. 019 [5]). Like Bolzano, Brentano acknowledges objectless
presentations: Es gibt gegenstandslose Vorstellungen, according to Rollinger (2009, p. 17,
note 37). Das zweite ist das, was der Name nennt. Von ihm sagen wir, es komme der Name
ihm zu. Es ist das, was, wenn es existiert, äußerer Gegenstand der Vorstellung ist (Brentano
1870, 13.018 [4]). Cf. also Höfler’s Logik, §6 and §17.4. Twardowski’s denial of objectless
presentations is thus unique at the time, and definitely before Meinong defended the idea.
8
Nichts ist gewöhnlicher, als etwas vorzustellen oder über etwas zu urteilen, was nicht exis‑
tiert (Meinong 1899, p. 382).
The distinction between content and object has also been made by
a British reader of Franz Brentano, G.F. Stout, who was both a philosopher
and a psychologist, and the teacher of G.E. Moore and Bertrand Russell in
1894/1895. Stout’s distinction shows a great similarity with the one presented
by Twardowski. Although Stout has made the distinction before 1894, it can
be shown that he wrote the anonymous review of Twardowski’s book for
Mind published the same year, and he will use all four arguments Twardowski
has presented in his work on Analytic Psychology (1896). Stout considers,
like Twardowski, the content to be a psychological entity, dependent upon
the mental act, but, as far as semantics is concerned, he draws a different
conclusion from this thesis: he considers the content to be too psychologi‑
cal to play a role in semantics. For Stout, the basic semantic relation is that
between a term and the object designated. It is this position that has made
it possible for Moore and Russell to defend a Gegenstandstheorie before
having read Meinong. There is no sign of a theory of objects in Meinong
before 1899, and Moore already defend a version of a theory of objects in
his second dissertation of 1898, of which the important parts are published
in Mind in 1899. Twardowski has thus played an important, though indirect
role in the development of Moore and Russell towards a direct realism in
their early years.9
For Twardowski, the content has two roles or functions: (1) it is the content
of an act of presentation; and (2) the meaning of a name. Starting with the
first role, the content of the act is that through which the object of the act
is presented (p. 16); it has a mediating function (p. 28), directing the act to
this object rather than another. The same object may be presented in dif‑
ferent ways, that is, by means of different contents, even if the object does
not exist: “Admittedly, a circle in the strict geometric sense does not exist
anywhere. Yet one can conceive of it in different ways (Doch kann man ihn
auf die verschiedenste Weise vorstellen; cf. (Twardowski 1894a, p. 32)), be it
as a line of constant curvature, be it … as a line whose points are at the same
distance from a given point” (Twardowski 1894b, pp. 29-30). Twardowski
is thus able to account for what Geach has called intentional identity, and
I come back to this in section 3, when Husserl’s reaction to Twardowski’s
account of intentionality is given. The content has also two characteristics:
(1) it exists only as part of the act, and (2) cannot be considered as a thing
9
See my work on Stout: (Schaar 1996) and (Schaar 2013).
or res, that is, as something that stands in relations of cause and effect. The
content is in this sense existent, but not real.
“Someone who utters a name intends to awaken in the listener the same
mental content which appears in himself” (Twardowski 1894b, p. 9). In this
passage, Twardowski assumes that one can speak of the same mental content
in the speaker and the listener. At the same time, though, Twardowski argues
that the content is dependent upon the act of presentation, and in this sense
there cannot be an identical content for different acts. In 1894, the content
is understood as a dependent moment of the act, and the content of two
different acts can thus never be identical. In a footnote, Twardowski gives
an elucidation of how the meaning of a name can be understood as general.
The meaning of a term is the mental content that the name aims to awaken
in the hearer, falls er zugleich die Fähigkeit hat, dieses Ziel in der Regel
zu erreichen (Twardowski 1894a, p. 11, note), that is, on condition that the
name has the capacity to evoke this content as a rule in whoever hears the
name. Through this condition, accidental aims to arouse a certain content in
the hearer do not belong to the meaning of the name, and it seems that the
idea of a rule gives some generality to the name. The content that a particular
name may evoke differs, though, from hearer to hearer: the name “Socrates”
may evoke a picture of Socrates in one person, or simply a picture of the
word “Socrates” in another. The name has its logical function independent
of the immanent, particular content of these acts. The name may have its
logical function without arousing a similar psychological content in who‑
ever hears and understands the name. In this period, Twardowski does not
make a distinction between the logical and the psychological content, and
it is no surprise that Husserl criticises Twardowski’s semantics precisely
on this point. Twardowski confuses, according to Husserl, the real, psycho‑
logical content with the ideal, logical content (Husserl 1896, p. 350, note).
Cf. (Hickerson 2007, p. 62). As Twardowski identifies the meaning of the
name with the content of the act, there is no way he can prevent a form of
psychologism as far as the content is concerned. The semantics presented
in 1894 is therefore psychologistic.10 And it is precisely for this reason that
Twardowski develops a new semantics after 1900. In 1894, the content of
the act is an immanent aspect of the act which differs from presentation
to presentation, and is in this sense an irrepeatable entity. Twardowski as‑
sumes that the content has a representative or logical function making the
act an act of this object as an A, but such a representative function goes
10
Jens Cavallin (1997, p. 88) claims that, for Twardowski, contents are “objective.” As far
as I have been able to determine, the term is used by Twardowski only in a footnote, where
Bolzano’s position is described: Bolzano gebraucht statt des Ausdruckes ‘Inhalt einer Vor‑
stellung’ die Bezeichnung ‘objective’ Vorstellung, ‘Vorstellung an sich’ (Twardowski 1894a,
p. 17, note).
beyond the particular psychological content. The logical content thus has
to be a repeatable meaning, but Twardowski is not able to account for this
universal aspect by the purely particular and psychological account of the
content he has given. He cannot account for the fact that you and I may both
think of this object as an A, that is, that we may think of it by means of the
same logical content. And neither can he account for the fact that, although
I have in mind only a picture of the words “lime tree,” I am thinking of
the green lime tree I have seen this morning. The idea of a rule mentioned
above, which is only presented by Twardowski in a footnote, can be used to
develop a notion of logical content, and Twardowski will do so after 1900.
According to R. Grossmann, the best translation of the German term Vor‑
stellung is not “presentation,” but “idea.” This translation shows the connection
of the account of Vorstellung given by Brentano and Twardowski with the
empiricist notion of idea. If one systematically translates the term Vorstellung
with the term “idea” there is a danger, though, that one blurs a distinction
central to the writings of Brentano and Twardowski. In the empiricist tradition,
the act/object ambiguity is often neglected, and the term “idea” may either
stand for the act or for the object, or for both at the same time. Grossmann
proposes, more specifically, to use “idea” for the content of the act:
I shall speak of an idea, the act of having an idea, and the object of an idea where
Twardowski speaks of the content of a presentation, the act of presentation, and the
object of a presentation, respectively (Grossmann 1977, p. viii).
the function of being the object of the reflective act. Although the content
of an act can never exist independently, it can be considered in abstraction
from the act to which it belongs, and thus become the object of a new act.
tion is nothing but a counterpart to the mental act: “We have called object
that entity which is presented through a presentation, judged in a judgement,
and desired or detested in an emotion” (p. 32). The meaning of “object”
coincides in this sense with the meaning of the expression “phenomenon”
or “appearance” (p. 33). The object is not a Ding an sich, Twardowski adds.
He does not want to make any metaphysical assumptions at this stage of his
analysis: “[W]hatever [the object] may be, it is … the object of these acts,
in contrast to us and our activity of conceiving” (p. 33). The act “relates to
an object which is presumed to be independent of thinking” (p. 7, M.S.; the
German reads: als unabhängig vom Denken angenommenen Gegenstand).
A psychological analysis disregards “the real, possible, or impossible exis‑
tence of objects and their parts” (p. 49). This does not mean, though, that
Twardowski claims that the object is dependent upon the act of presentation.
At a certain moment in Content and Object, Twardowski changes his
psychological approach to a metaphysical one (p. 34, italics M.S.):
Everything which is, is an object of a possible presentation; everything which is, is
something. And here, therefore, is the point where the psychological discussion of
the difference between content and object of presentations turns into metaphysics.
as they exist in the mind, or in the act. When I think of a stone, my thought
is directed to a content, which exists, in the mind, though not as a stone.
It is thus clear that Twardowski develops a theory of objects, a Gegen‑
standstheorie, in 1894, before Meinong. Metaphysics is “the science of
objects in general,” investigating the laws which objects in general obey
(p. 36). The object of metaphysics is thus not unlike the object of logic for
Frege and Russell; for them, logic is the most universal science. The logical
laws concern all objects. As Russell says: “Logic is concerned with the real
world just as truly as zoology, though with its more abstract and general
features” (Russell 1919, p. 169). There is one striking difference between
the scope of logic in Frege’s writings, on the one hand, and the scope of
metaphysics in Twardowski. Frege’s logic is not concerned with possible
or impossible objects; logic does not apply to fiction, Frege would say.
From a metaphysical point of view, it seems that for Twardowski the
objects are understood as independent of any mental act. Everything which
is, is an object of a possible presentation, that is, objects are independent
of any actual act of presenting. As far as his theory of objects is concerned,
Twardowski is not a psychologist. The object is independent of the mental
act. Still, the foundation for this metaphysics is a psychological investigation:
“Everything which is in the widest sense “something” is called “object,” first
of all in regard to a subject, but then also regardless of this relationship”
(p. 37). Psychology is in this sense a heuristic means for metaphysics, and
is thus in a genetic sense prior to the latter. Psychology is also providing
the basic concepts for metaphysics, and Twardowski often makes use of
inner perception in his explanations. In this sense one may say that a form
of methodological psychologism is defended. A full theory of objects and
their parts, a mereology, is developed by Twardowski in the later sections
of Content and Object (see the sub‑section on mereology below). Already
in 1894, we thus see a move from psychology to ontology, without cutting
the umbilical cord.
11
Daß er [Twardowski] Bedeutung und direkt‑anschauliche Vorstellung des bedeuteten Gegen‑
standes identifiziert, während ihm der fundamentale und logisch allein maßgebliche Begriff
There are four important places in which Husserl gives an explicit re‑
action to Twardowski. There is a posthumously published manuscript on
intentional objects written in the summer of 1894, Intentionale Gegenstände
(Husserl 1894), in which Husserl develops his own account of intentionality
in reaction to Twardowski. Husserl wrote a review of Twardowski’s trea‑
tise on the distinction between content and object of presentation, which is
published posthumously (Husserl 1896). And Husserl gives two reactions
to Twardowski in the Logical Investigations: one reaction is given in the
context of a critique of the picture theory; the other one is a critique of
Twardowski’s account of general objects, and will be dealt with in the sec‑
tion on general objects below.
From a historical point of view, Husserl’s earliest reaction to Twardowski
in the manuscript on intentional objects is the most important one, for it can
be shown that Husserl’s concept of intentionality is primarily developed in
reaction to Twardowski, rather than in reaction to Brentano. Cf. (Schuhmann
1991b, p. 138) and (Husserl 1902, p. 144). The manuscript on intentional
objects has been part of a bigger one called “Vorstellung and Gegenstand.”
The lost part probably dealt with ideal contents or meanings, as the preserved
manuscript starts with a summarizing remark that to every presentation
belongs a meaning‑content (Bedeutungsgehalt; cf. (Husserl 1894, p. 142)).
The part on intentional objects opens with two theses that seem to con‑
tradict each other. On the one hand, every presentation presents something
(jede Vorstellung [stellt] einen Gegenstand vor, (idem)); there is thus an
object for every presentation. On the other hand, there does not correspond
an object to every presentation (nicht jeder Vorstellung [entspricht] ein
Gegenstand), for the presentation of a present emperor of France or the pre‑
sentation of a round square do not correspond to an object. For the second
thesis Husserl refers to Bolzano’s thesis that there are objectless presenta‑
tions. Husserl will criticise the first thesis, which may refer to Brentano,
although Husserl does not mention him. When he gives a critique of the first
thesis, it is rather a theory like Twardowski’s he has in mind, for his critique
concerns an account of intentionality that acknowledges both a content and
an object of thought. The tension, Husserl adds, also applies to sentences.
Every sentence presents a state of affairs, which does not exist or subsist
in case the sentence is false, and yet there does not correspond to every
sentence a state of affairs. The first thesis preludes Twardowski’s position
in 1897, as we will see later.
In the first place, Husserl criticises a picture theory of presentation as it
is believed by the masses. He does not mention Twardowski here, because
Twardowski denies his contents to be simple pictures. The theory presumes
der Bedeutung ganz entgeht. Daher verfällt er darauf, Bestandstücke der Bedeutung (‘ohne
Berge’) als ‘Hilfsvorstellungen nach der Art der Etyma’ zu faßen (Husserl 1901, p. 305).
to account for both theses. On the one hand, every presentation presents an
object, that is, a picture; on the other hand, not every presentation corresponds
with an object, that is, there is not always an object of which the picture is
supposed to be a picture (p. 144). The first problem with the picture theory
is that it suggests that we may form a picture, although there is no object.
Because we can easily form a picture of what does not exist, the picture
theory lies at the basis of the thesis that not every presentation corresponds
to an object (p. 143). Second, there are presentations of art, literature and
science whose object is so abstract that we cannot form any picture of them;
and, what kind of picture are we supposed to make of a round square? The
picture theory is absolutely not confirmed by experience. Third, the the‑
ory cannot account for the fact that it is the same object that is presented,
whether it exists or not: “The same Berlin, that I present, also exists, and
the same town would no longer exist, were it punished by God’s judgement
as had happened to Sodom and Gomorrah.” 12 We are never interested in
the picture: “The object itself we present, about this we judge, to this we
are directed in joy and sorrow, wish and wanting.”13 The problem of the
theory is that the “two kinds” of presentations are directed to “two kinds”
of objects, pictures and the intended objects, and there is therefore only an
apparent solution of the problem.
Finally, the picture is not automatically a picture of something. In
order for the content to function as a picture or representation of the ob‑
ject, the content must already possess a certain pointing beyond itself, an
Über‑sich‑Hinausweisen, that makes it into a picture or representation, and
by which it is distinguished from a mere psychological content of the act
(idem). Does this argument apply also to Twardowski’s quasi‑picture theory,
in which contents are quasi‑pictures or signs of the represented object? To
put it differently, is Husserl’s critique applicable to any representation theo‑
ry? In the Logical Investigations, Husserl repeats the critique of the picture
theory, and adds that an account of intentionality in terms of quasi‑pictures
or signs is as vulnerable to this critique as any other representation theory.
The picture theory says that we are able to think of a certain object, because
the act of thinking has an immanent content that shows a resemblance with
the object. According to Husserl, a resemblance between content and object
of presentation does not make the content a picture of the object. In order
for the one to be a picture of the other, we need someone who interprets the
content as a picture of the object (Husserl 1901, p. 436). Being a picture
12
Dasselbe Berlin, das ich vorstelle, existiert auch, und dasselbe würde nicht mehr existieren,
bräche ein Strafgericht ein wie bei Sodom und Gomorrha (Husserl 1894). Cf. (Husserl 1896,
p. 353, note).
13
Den Gegenstand selbst stellen wir vor, über ihn urteilen wir, auf ihn beziehen sich Freude
und Trauer, Wunsch und Wille (Husserl 1894, p. 144).
the object has intentional existence. For Twardowski, the content really
exists as part of an existing act. For him, intentional existence is not a form
of existence; it characterises the object of presentation insofar as the ob‑
ject does not exist, but is the object of a mental act, nonetheless. Existence
and intentional existence function here as first order predicates, although
Twardowski does not expicitly endorse this thesis, for it goes against Bren‑
tano’s theory of judgement. I see no other way to give an interpretation to
Twardowski’s thesis that “some objects have existence in addition to their
objecthood” (Twardowski 1894b, p. 35). Twardowski is thus able to give
a solution to the apparent contradiction (der scheinbare Widerstreit, p. 145)
mentioned above: every presentation has an object, although the object may
not exist truly (wahrhaft). According to Husserl, Twardowski’s terminolog‑
ical move does not explain the problem, for it is unclear what “intentional
existence” means, and what wahrhaft means (Husserl 1894, p. 145). It is
true that Twardowski’s move seems to be a terminological one, although
certainly an interesting one. Husserl is right, though, that Twardowski ac‑
knowledges both intentional and truly existing objects. As for Brentano, for
Husserl, presentations are neutral as far as the existence or non‑existence
of their objects is concerned; the existence of an object becomes relevant
only at the level of judgement.16
According to Husserl, there is on Twardowski’s account, as in the picture
theory, a doubling of objects. Twardowski acknowledges for every mental
act both a content and an object, but this is not the theory that Husserl at‑
tributes to him. Husserl assumes that on Twardowski’s account, whether
we think of Jupiter or of Bismarck, the object of thought is an object that
is immanent to the act:
[M]an glaubt doch eine Lösung zu haben … daß jeder Vorstellung ein immanenter
Gegenstand, aber nicht jeder ein wahrer Gegenstand zugeteilt wird (p. 146).
16
For Husserl, the notion of modification becomes relevant only on the level of judgements.
If one makes the judgement that “Pegasus has wings” the judgement is a modified one; such
a judgement can be true only under the assumption that Greek mythology were true.
Twardowski endorses the thesis that there are two kinds of objects, those
that exist and those that merely have intentional existence, but he does not
say that there are two kinds of existence, for intentional existence is not
a certain kind of existence. For Twardowski, Jupiter is an object, although
he does not exist. For Husserl, we can only speak of the independence of
the object of an act of presentation on the basis of judgements in which the
existence of such an object is affirmed. It is only a small step to Husserl’s
later position in which objects are constituted in judgements of existence
and identity, a position far apart from Twardowski’s.
Twardowski’s theory is clearly able to give an account of what Peter
Geach has called intentional identity (Geach 1972, pp. 146ff). How can
we refer to an object introduced earlier in the conversation although this
object may not exist? How is it possible to refer to the girl that comes back
in our dreams again and again, whereas she does not exist? According to
Twardowski, there is a girl, although she does not exist. For Husserl, iden‑
tity is constituted in identity judgements that presuppose the correctness of
the acknowledgement of the existence of the object. This means that one
cannot account for intentional identity if the object does not exist. How can
Husserl explain that we think of Jupiter in different ways although there
are no Greek Gods? For Husserl, intentional identity is possible only under
the assumption that, for example, Greek mythology is true (Husserl 1894,
p. 151). Even in the case of geometry, we make assumptions about space. It
is only upon reflection that we obtain the right form for these judgements,
and understand that these are judgements only in a modified sense of the
term insofar as they are only “judgements under an assumption”. Husserl’s
account is not to be taken in the sense that there are different possible
worlds: the world of geometry, that of Greek myth, and the actual world.
For Husserl, there is only one world, and the judgements that directly relate
to this world do not show any assumptions in their proper form (p. 159; see
footnote 16, above).
Husserl’s other important critique of Twardowski concerns the fact that
Twardowski identifies the content of a presentation with the meaning of
a name. The two cannot be identified, for the meaning of two “names” may
be the same, although the immanent content of the act may be different, and
vice versa (Husserl 1896, p. 349, note). This critique is dealt with above,
in section 2.
18
Metaphysics as a general theory of objects turned out to be a recurrent theme in Polish
philosophy. Even Tarski did not have any problems with this conception of metaphysics: “For
some people metaphysics is a general theory of objects (ontology) – a discipline which is to be
developed in a purely empirical way, and which differs from other empirical sciences only by
its generality … I think that in any case metaphysics in this conception is not objectionable to
anybody” (Tarski 1944, p. 363). Cf. also Twardowski’s empirical conception of metaphysics
explained in II.1. Leśniewski uses the term “ontology” for his logic of names, “because he
thought that his logic of names formulates ‘general principles of being’” (Woleński 1989, p.
153).
19
First, Twardowski seems to explain objecthood as the property of being presented, but
a few lines later it becomes clear that what can be presented (was … vorgestellt werden kann
(Twardowski 1894a, p. 37)) is a more precise formulation.
are particular entities, and the property relations are themselves parts of
the object; they are its formal constituents. For Twardowski an individual
is a complex of parts, both dependent and independent parts, and material
and formal parts. What makes the different parts constituents of one and
the same object? Is an object more than the sum of its parts and relations?
Does Twardowski acknowledge a special form of unity, a Gestaltquality,
in order to account for the unity of a complex object? After having asserted
that the properties of the form having P are themselves constituents of the
complex object, Twardowski acknowledges that these properties are thereby
had by the object, thus obtaining the having of having P as a constituent,
which argument would then endlessly go on. He concludes: “Perhaps it is
just this infinite nesting of primary formal constituents which contain the
key to the answer to the question concerning the nature of the relation which
holds the parts together in a whole” (p. 56). Such an infinite regress does
not have the explanatory power that is needed. The unity of the complex
object is rather presupposed by the relations of the different parts to one
and the same object. Twardowski has something to say about the unity of
the object at the end of his mereological investigations. Every object is one,
a unified whole. This is the reason that the Scholastics called the object
unum. Twardowski takes refuge in a psychological analysis to explain the
point. “Everything that is presented as an object, no matter how complex
it is, is presented as a unified whole” (Twardowski 1894b, p. 86). This is
immediately followed by a mereological explanation: “Its parts are united
into this unified whole through property relations which have a common
term on one side” (idem). The fact that the object is one is a primitive idea
that cannot be explained further, but is rather used to explain the property
relations. The fact that the object is a unified whole cannot be reduced to
property relations and formal constituents.
By means of all these mereological notions, Twardowski is able to clar‑
ify traditional philosophical terms such as “characteristic” and “essence”.
Twardowski uses the idea of property relations to explain what the essence
of an object is:
The totality of property relations from which one can derive, because of causal de‑
pendency, all other property relations of an object is called the essence [Wesen] of
the object (p. 57).
General Objects
If we speak about the triangle in general and assert that the sum of the in‑
ner angles of the triangle as such is 180o, we do not merely make an asser‑
tion about this triangle and the other triangles we have become acquainted
with, for we make a universal claim. A mathematical proof concerns any
triangle, and not merely the particular triangles one may think of. We take
an arbitrary triangle, and give a proof for that object, and if the triangle is
rightly chosen, the proof counts for any triangle. What can we say about
such arbitrary objects? According to Kit Fine, the arbitrary triangle has
“those properties common to the individual objects in its range” (Fine 1985,
p. 5), but it has none of the properties that belong only to some triangles.
So, the arbitrary triangle has the common property mentioned above, but, as
Locke puts it, this triangle “must be neither Oblique, nor Rectangle, neither
Equilateral, Equicrural, nor Scalenon” (Locke 1690, p. 596). The arbitrary
natural number is neither odd nor even, although it can be said to have the
disjunctive property of being either odd or even, for this property is com‑
mon to all natural numbers. The arbitrary number is not identical with an
individual number, for the latter must have the property of being odd, or
the property of being even. So one has to acknowledge that something may
be odd or even, without having either of the two properties. It is precisely
und umgekehrt (Twardowski 1894a, p. 66). As objects, red and a certain extension can be
presented independently of each other; as contents, red and extension are, in a generic way,
mutually dependent, though (idem).
for this reason that an arbitrary number does not belong to the category of
numbers, and that an arbitrary triangle does not belong to the category of
triangles. An arbitrary triangle is not a triangle, although it should be, given
that all triangles share the property of being a triangle. So, we should be
careful in our formulations. Claiming that the arbitrary number is odd or
even amounts to the claim that any of the individual numbers falling in its
range has the property of being odd or the property of being even. In the
same way, saying that the arbitrary triangle is a triangle means that every
object falling in its range has the property of being a triangle.
Some have understood the arbitrary triangle as a triangle, although an
incomplete one. On this account, the arbitrary triangle is a triangle, although
a defective one. An arbitrary triangle is just another triangle, and this leads
to “the absurd conclusion that one might count with arbitrary numbers or
have tea with an arbitrary man.” (Fine 1985, p. 8). The arbitrary natural
number has a range consisting of all individual natural numbers, but is not
itself one of these individuals. The arbitrary triangle does not belong to the
category of triangles. At the same time, we seem to attribute properties that
belong to individual triangles to the arbitrary triangle, when we say that the
triangle has three angles, and that the sum of its inner angles is 180o. Such
a sentence cannot be taken at face value, for a general object or a universal
has no angles. Because the general triangle is not a triangle, we do not have
an intuitive presentation of the general triangle.
One may assert that there are arbitrary objects, without claiming that they
exist, just as one may claim that there are numbers without claiming that
they exist. One may thus have a name for such an arbitrary object. We use
the names “the triangle” and “the whale,” when we assert that the triangle
has three angles, or that the whale is a mammal; these names are names
of arbitrary objects. If one assumes that there are arbitrary objects which
do not exist, one has to give in the end an explanation of these objects in
terms of objects that one takes to exist, or that one has already assumed
for other reasons.
Because Twardowski denies the existence of general objects (the world
contains only particulars), it makes sense to compare his account with that
of Locke. According to Locke, as far as ontology is concerned there are
only particulars, and the senses give us only particular ideas. We can form
general ideas, though, by means of an act of abstraction. If we start with
a particular idea of this triangle or of a particular man, we may abstract
from it the ideas of time, of place and other ideas. We thus obtain isolated
ideas which can be used to represent a plurality of individuals that agree
with each other: “Thus the same Colour being observed to day in Chalk or
Snow, which the Mind yesterday received from Milk, it considers that Ap‑
pearance alone, makes it a representative of all of that kind” (Locke 1690,
II: p. 159). These isolated ideas are general; they are applicable to many
things. There is nothing general, though, in the world, and general ideas are
merely fictions of the mind (Locke 1690, IV, p. 596). Locke acknowledges
that these ideas are “marks of our imperfection”: “an Idea wherein some
parts of several different and inconsistent Ideas are put together” (idem).
From a Fregean point of view, we cannot speak about the concept of
a triangle; the concept of a triangle has only a predicative function. When
we assert that the triangle is a geometric figure, we assert something about
the relation between the concepts being a triangle and being a geometric
figure, namely that every object that falls under the concept of triangle also
falls under the concept of geometric figure. We can make the same point in
terms of properties: every object that has the property of being a triangle
has the property of being a geometric figure. We have to pay a price for this
position, for in natural language we do speak about the triangle in general,
whereas Frege has no means to speak about the concept of a triangle or
that of a horse. Frege’s position is not a good starting point to understand
Twardowski, and it is for this reason that I started this section with Locke’s
account of general ideas and the account of arbitrary objects in the work
of Kit Fine.
None of the more traditional positions with respect to universals is defend‑
ed by Twardowski. Twardowski is neither a logical realist, nor a nominalist
or conceptualist. When we think of the triangle in general, the object of our
thought is not a sum of individual triangles, for we make a universal claim.
When we think of the triangle in general, we do not think of a plurality of
individual triangles, as the nominalist claims; we think of one object. The
general object we think of when we think of the triangle is also not a Pla‑
tonic entity. There are no Platonic entities like the triangle in general, nor
is the triangle a singular species, as Husserl claims in the second of the
Logical Investigations.
Essential to Twardowski’s explanation of the general object is the notion
of metaphysical part, the constituents referred to in the following explana‑
tion of the general object.
[W]hat is presented through a general presentation is a group of constituents [meta‑
physical parts] which are common to several objects. This group of constituents is
presented as a whole that belongs together; this is the object of the general presenta‑
tion (Twardowski 1894b, p. 100).
Each red object has a metaphysical part which makes it into a red object,
and this red moment is an irrepeatable, dependent part of the object, which
can only be apprehended by means of an act of abstraction. Due to our
ability to abstract, this metaphysical part can be thought of independently
of any other object. The triangular aspect of an individual can also be ap‑
prehended without any apprehension of its size, and its particular angles.
The general object is a group of such particular aspects which are common
to several objects (Twardowski 1894b, p. 100). These metaphysical parts,
the particular triangularity aspects or particular properties of each triangle,
constitute the general object of a triangle. This group of common particular
aspects can be apprehended as a unified whole, as one object, insofar as
the aspects of the objects of individual presentations stand in a relation of
equality to each other, and thereby form a group. Husserl argues that such
a relation of equality has to be based on a relation of identity, the identity
of the species, which has the individual objects as its instances, but this is
not needed on Twardowski’s account. If the relation of equality would hold
among the different individual triangles, we would have to explain in what
sense these individuals are equal, in which case we would have to refer to
an identical species (Husserl 1901, p. 118). For Twardowski, though, the
relation of equality holds between the different metaphysical parts of the
triangles, each being a different, though exactly similar triangular aspect.
Each of these parts already constitute the triangularity of the different tri‑
angles, and we are not in need of an explanation in what sense these aspects
are equal. These general objects do not exist, according to Twardowski,
but they are objects nonetheless, constituted by the different equal meta‑
physical parts. Their psychological unity is explained by the fact that these
constituents are thought of as a unified whole. Their metaphysical unity is
explained by the relations of similarity between the different metaphysical
parts. There is thus a sense in which there are universals, for Twardowski,
but ontologically they can be fully explained in terms of the metaphysical
parts of individual objects, including those of possible objects.
Twardowski’s position is in agreement with the position defended by the
British psychologist and philosopher G.F. Stout. Stout explains universals
as unities of similar abstract particulars. These are what Twardowski has
called metaphysical parts: the red of this rose, or the triangularity of this
triangle. The universal is nothing but a group of particular properties or
characters that have a certain unity, by which we are able to understand the
universal as one object (Stout 1921). Like Twardowski, Stout acknowledg‑
es non‑existing possibilities as objects, which means that the universal is
a unity of both actual and possible characters. This means that the universal
or general object does not change if new objects come into existence. It is
thus possible to acknowledge the universal Being a Centaur, the general
object of centaur, although there are no centaurs. Although these theories of
universals or general objects have a psychological origin, there is no reason
to classify this account of general objects as psychologistic.
Twardowski gives a linguistic and a psychological explanation why the
general object is often not acknowledged. We use the same name, “the trian‑
gle,” for both the individual and the general object. In languages that have
the definite article, the form “the triangle” is primarily used for the general
object, whereas the individual object is designated by the substantive to‑
gether with a pronoun or demonstrative, “this triangle,” or by a substantive
together with a subordinate clause, “the triangle that we see in front of us”
(Twardowski 1894b, pp. 101-102).
The general object may also not be acknowledged because there is
a special psychological relation between the presentation of a general ob‑
ject and the presentation of an individual object. According to Twardowski,
we present the general object by means of a presentation of the individual
object. Because Twardowski does not distinguish between indirect presen‑
tations and presentations by means of auxiliary presentations, he explains
the presentation of general object in both terms. As we have concluded with
Marty that there is a distinction between indirect presentations and presenta‑
tions by means of auxiliary presentations, we should make a decision here.
Is, according to Twardowski’s theory, a presentation of a general object an
indirect presentation, or is it rather a presentation by means of an auxiliary
presentation. This is to be decided by the question whether the presentation
we use is essential to the content of the general presentation, or not. The
auxiliary presentation has only an accidental, psychological relation to the
content of the presentation, whereas the indirect presentation has a concep‑
tual, a logical and semantic, relation to the intuitive content. Twardowski
claims that the presentation of a particular triangle is not essential to the
presentation of a general object:
[O]ne can well imagine a more perfect mental organization than the human being’s
which would be capable of thinking of general objects without recourse to presenta‑
tions of the corresponding individual objects (p. 104).
The latter has no generality. Without the synthesising act of the different
triangularity moments we do not obtain a general presentation.
Twardowski’s notion of the general triangle can also be compared with
the notion of an arbitrary triangle. Twardowski’s general triangle does not
have the properties common to the individual objects in its range as the
arbitrary triangle has it; it rather consists of these properties, that is, of the
metaphysical parts of the particular triangles. In later writings, Twardowski
will come back to this account of general objects in order to give an account
of what Husserl has called the identical or ideal meaning (see Twardowski
1912b and the next chapter), without committing himself to more than par‑
ticulars in his ontology.
denial, and has its origin in the fact that represented judgements are essen‑
tially part of the explanation of concepts. Twardowski discusses the theories
of contemporaries who understand concepts to be judgements or products
of judgement. Although it is true that represented judgements can be under‑
stood as potential judgements in a certain sense of that term (see the next
chapter), concepts are a kind of presentation, not a kind of judgement. As
soon as Twardowski makes the distinction between actions and products,
he understands concepts to be the products of certain acts of presentation
(p. 95, note). As the concept as mental product is isolated by means of an act
of abstraction, the question arises to what extent Twardowski’s distinction
between action and product will enable him to overcome psychologism.
The reform of logic is an important aim in the nineteenth century, and a new
account of judgement is to play a part in it. Traditionally, judgements are
analysed into form and matter, where the matter consists of two general
terms, one of them being the subject, the other the predicate. There are four
different judgemental forms, each connecting the two terms in its own way:
the predicate may be said of some things to which the subject term applies,
or it may be said of all those things, resulting in, respectively, a particular
and a general judgement; the predicate may be affirmed of the things to
which the subject term applies, or it may be denied of such things, resulting
in, respectively, an affirmative and a negative judgement. An affirmative
judgement may thus have the same matter as a negative judgement, and
a general judgement may have the same matter as a particular judgement.
As the matter consists of two independent terms, the judgemental form is
needed to unify the two, and to understand them as subject and predicate
of the judgement.
There are several problems with the traditional account of judgement.
The general point is that it seems not to be able to account for the uniqueness
of judgement. The notion of judgemental form cannot be used to account
for the uniqueness of judgement, for the unasserted antecedent of a hypo‑
thetical judgement If no Greek is a God, then all Greek are mortal and the
judgement No Greek is a god have the same judgemental form, while the
antecedent is not judged. If the judgemental form cannot account for the
uniqueness of judgement, how is one to account for it? Although the ques‑
tion is already raised by Hume, it is to play a central role in the reform of
logic in the nineteenth century.
Traditionally, ideas and judgements are classified as belonging to one
class, thought, which is generally opposed to the will and emotions (Figure
can be judged. In the judgement There are tigers, tiger is the object of the
judgement, whereas acknowledging its existence is the act of judgement.
When we judge that tigers exist, we do not predicate existence of tigers.
We rather relate the concept or characteristic (Merkmal) of being a tiger to
the world, thereby affirming the existence of things that have the charac‑
teristic of being a tiger. The object of judgement may thus be simple, and
there are two kinds of judgemental acts: particular affirmations, and general
denials. According to Brentano, all affirmations affirm that some A exist,
where A is a concept; all denials deny that A exist, and denials are thereby
general. Denying that unicorns exist is a claim that no object is a unicorn.
There is a problem, though, with Brentano’s proposal, for if we put the
word “If” in front of “tigers exist”, we see that we can delete the judge‑
mental force from the existential form. The possibility to merely entertain
the thought that tigers exist, without judging, is not accounted for. For Bren‑
tano, existence comes in only at the level of judgement. All we do when
we entertain the thought that there are tigers, on Brentano’s account, is to
think of the concept (Merkmal) of being a tiger, but that is not the same as
thinking that tigers exist. We see a similar problem when it is claimed that
the judgemental form is P is true, where P is a proposition, for we may have
this form without judgemental force, as in “If it is true that it snows, then
we should stay in.” Frege’s position in the Begriffsschrift is still ambiguous,
for he acknowledges, on the one hand, a special judgemental sign showing
that a judgement has been made. On the other hand, he seems to claim that
“… is a fact” (ist eine Thatsache; cf. (Frege 1879, §3)) may be understood
as a common predicate for all judgements. The predicate, though, is not
a unique characteristic of judgements, as we do say: “If it is a fact that it still
snows, we have to stay in.” A judgemental form cannot be used to capture
the uniqueness of the judgement as act.
When Frege wrote “Meine grundlegenden logische Einsichten” in 1915,
he formulated clearly that the judgemental force cannot be represented by the
word “true.”2 The importance of the judgemental force for logic is stressed
by him in the same piece: the essence of logic is contained in the assertive
force.3 The essence of judgement, and thereby of logic, can neither lie in
the existential form nor in the form P is true. We have to distinguish the
question what the judgemental form is from the question what character‑
izes the judgemental force. We may say that all judgements have the form
P is true or A exists / A does not exist, depending on one’s theory, while
acknowledging that judgemental force is to be explained independently
2
[D]ie Behauptung [liegt] nicht in dem Worte ‘wahr’, sondern in der behauptenden Kraft,
mit der der Satz ausgesprochen wird (Frege 1915, p. 271).
3
Dasjenige nun, was den Hinweis auf das Wesen der Logik am deutlichsten enthält, ist die
behauptende Kraft, mit der ein Gedanke ausgesprochen wird (p. 272).
of this form. We have to explain the judgemental force in terms of the use
we make of a sentence. In Frege’s writings the judgemental force plays an
important role. In the Begriffsschrift, all premises and conclusions are pre‑
ceded by the judgemental stroke, which is a sign of judgemental force. For
Frege, the sign is essential to logic, because he considers logic to be the
most universal science, built upon axioms in the traditional sense of known
judgements. The premises and conclusions in an ideography are, for him,
judgements made, and they purport to be knowledge, although they may
turn out to be incorrect, as in the case of the fifth axiom. In such a case,
one has to withdraw one’s assertion and one has to delete the judgemental
stroke from the ideography.
Modern logicians generally agree with the point of critique Wittgenstein
makes in the Tractatus. Frege’s judgemental stroke is logically meaningless;
it only shows that the author, Frege, holds the judgemental content to be
true (Tractatus 4.442). If Wittgenstein’s critique were right, there would be
no point in withdrawing one’s assertion. For, the sign would merely show
that Frege at that time had judged the fifth axiom to be true, and that is still
a fact. I do think, though, that Frege captured an important point with the
judgemental stroke. If logic is concerned with the premises and conclusions
we make, it is in need of a sign for judgemental force. This need not be un‑
derstood in any subjective sense, for as soon as one detects a mistake, one
understands that one has to withdraw one’s assertion, and that one has to
cancel the judgemental sign. It is true, though, that this brings the element
of a judging agent into the system. Any logical system that takes into ac‑
count the judging agent has to explain how it is to prevent a subjectivistic
form of psychologism. For Brentano and Twardowski, the judgemental act
plays a central role in logic, and they have thus to take this problem into
account. One of the driving forces behind Twardowski’s developments can
be understood as trying to find an answer to the critique of psychologism
that was so eloquently put forward in Husserl’s Prolegomena of the Logical
Investigations.
Another problem for Brentano’s account of judgement is caused by the
fact that it is non‑propositional. When a judgement is made, we claim some‑
thing to be true. For example, we may claim that snow is white is true, in
which case there is a proposition, that snow is white, which is claimed to
be true. So, there is at least a linguistic reason for acknowledging propo‑
sitions. Brentano’s analysis of the judgement “Snow is white” seems to be
artificial. For him, judging that snow is white is denying the existence of
non‑white snow. Is it true that all judgements are affirmations or denials of
existence, as Brentano holds? What existence claim is involved when we
judge that 7 + 5 = 12? Generalising the problem, we may say that Brentano
does not distinguish between a judgeable and a non‑judgeable content. For
him, everything that can be presented, can be judged: a house, a man, and
a unicorn, they can all be judged. If Brentano answers that a house can be
judged, because its existence can be acknowledged, his account seems to
make the act side of the judgement too complex, involving both the judge‑
mental force and the existential form. Furthermore, because Brentano does
not acknowledge propositions, he is not able to account for propositional
negation. Not all forms of negation can be explained in terms of an act of
denial, for negations may appear where no judgemental act is involved, as
in questions, supposals and hypothetical judgements.
The ambiguity in Brentano’s account of intentionality (the fact that our
mental acts are related to something that is called both a “content” and an
“object”), has an effect on the question what the object of judgement is. If
we acknowledge the existence of tigers, the existence of the concept tiger
is acknowledged. The act of presentation provides us with an object, the
concept or characteristic of being tiger, whose existence is acknowledged as
soon as the judgement is made. If we acknowledge the existence of Socrates
something else seems to be involved. For Brentano, judgements concerning
a specific object form an important class. In the case of inner perception,
one acknowledges the existence of this individual act of seeing, hearing or
feeling. These judgements do not have the form There are tigers, for they
are singular judgements. We acknowledge the existence of this individual
act. The act of presentation that is the foundation for this judgement seems
to provide us with the judgemental object itself, at least in case we have
a presentation of our own mental acts. The judgement would thus have the
form “This act exists.” The judgemental form of “This act exists” seems to
be different, though, from the judgemental form “Tigers exist”. One may
say that the judgemental content is here an individual concept this seeing of
red, whose existence is acknowledged, but his cannot be Brentano’s posi‑
tion, for he is committed to the fact that the object itself, this seeing of red,
is presented. It is precisely for this reason that inner perception is infalli‑
ble. In the judgement “Tiger exist”, we say something about the concept of
tiger, that it is not empty, that there are in the world objects falling under
the concept tiger. In the judgement “This act exists”, we acknowledge the
existence of an individual object, this act. Brentano does not seem to be able
to account for this logical distinction, which a modern logician would call
the distinction between a second and a first order predicate of existence,
although he is not alone in this, as Frege simply denies that there is a first
order predicate of existence.
Apart from this criticism, we may notice some important points of Bren‑
tano’s theory of judgement, which have made it possible to see the unique‑
ness of the judgemental act. Because he does not give an explanation of
judgement in terms of subject and predicate, Brentano is able to see that the
4
Hume defends a similar combination of theses: the distinction between subject and predicate
is for him not essential to judgement or belief; beliefs are essentially existential in character;
and the uniqueness of the judgement or belief is to be found in “the manner, in which we
conceive [the object]” (Hume 1739, 1.3.7, p. 66). Cf. II.1. I come back to the ambiguous use
of the term “belief” below. In Hume there is also an ambiguity in his use of the term “idea”,
which may stand for what is believed, or for a distinct mode of conceiving, an ambiguity that
is overcome by Brentano’s account of intentionality, where a clear distinction is made between
the act of presentation and the presented content.
5
It is for this reason that Brentano’s student F. Hillebrand speaks of the “idiogenetic” account
of judgement, the judgement is ίδιογενής: “peculiar in kind” (Liddell & Scott). Cf. (Twardow‑
ski 1894a), p. 28, and (1907), pp. 99-101.
6
Philosophers sometimes oscillate between the two pictures, as we can see for example in
(Crane 2013, p. 6), where it is argued that judgement is a special kind of thought (the traditional
picture), because it depends on thought (Brentano’s picture).
7
Es gibt auf dem Gebiet des Urteils ein Wahr und ein Falsch. Dazwischen aber gibt es kein
Mittleres, so wenig als zwischen Sein und Nichtsein (Brentano 1911, pp. 154-155). Cf. (Bren‑
tano 1889, pp. 25-26).
8
The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, in The Norton Shakespeare, base on the Ox‑
ford Edition (New York, London: Norton, 1997), p. 1687, which follows the Folio text. The
ond sense with the interrogative content of the question “Is snow white?”.
The interrogative content is whether snow is white, or is it true that snow is
white. The interrogative content can thus be understood as consisting of the
proposition in the modern sense together with the meaning of the interroga‑
tive mood. In the case of an imperative “Let snow be white”, the imperative
content is let snow be white, or let it be true that snow is white. In each of
the three cases we see a common element, that snow is white, which is the
proposition in the modern sense, and an element in which they differ: the
meaning of the declarative mood; the meaning of the interrogative mood; and
the meaning of the imperative mood. The proposition in the modern sense
together with the meaning of the declarative mood gives the proposition in
the traditional sense. The proposition in the traditional sense is also to be
distinguished from the judgement (made), for it need not be accompanied
by judgemental force. One may understand a judgement, without judging
oneself, and one may understand a question, without asking it. What we
apprehend in these cases is the judgemental content and the interrogative
content, but no force is involved on our part.
The distinction is of importance to understand Twardowski’s notion
of judgemental content defended in the paper on actions and products from
1912. Twardowski compares his notion to Husserl’s notion of ideal meaning
in the first of the logical investigations, and, as I will argue, this notion is
not to be identified with the modern notion of proposition. For Husserl, the
ideal meaning is a judgemental content in the full sense of the term explained
above; it is the proposition in the traditional sense. The ideal meaning (die
Bedeutung in unserem idealen Sinn; cf. (Husserl 1901, p. 431, A 392) is
apprehended through an idealizing abstraction upon the essence of partic‑
ular acts. The ideal meaning of an act of judgement can be apprehended by
first apprehending the intentional essence of the act, the phenomenological
counterpart to the ideal meaning. For Husserl, the intentional essence of
a judgemental act covers both quality and matter of the act, where the quality
corresponds to the fact that a judgement is made, rather than that a question
is asked. If the ideal meaning is an abstraction of both these elements it
must be more than the proposition in the modern sense, for it contains also
an idealization of the quality of the act. The ideal meaning must therefore
contain two elements: one corresponding to the matter, the proposition in
the modern sense, and one corresponding to the quality of the act. Husserl
thus speaks about the judgemental content in the full, traditional sense,
covering both the proposition in the modern sense, and the meaning of the
declarative mood, as it is explained above. That the identical meaning also
involves the meaning of the declarative mood becomes clear at the end of
the section, where Husserl says that the identity of “the” judgement lies in
the identical meaning, which repeats itself in the different particular acts
9
Die Identität ‘des’ Urteils oder ‘der’ Aussage liegt in der identischen Bedeutung, die sich
in den mannigfaltigen Einzelakten eben als dieselbe wiederholt (Husserl 1901, p. 435, A 395,
396).
10
Im ersten Fall ist der Inhalt des Urteils die Existenz; was im zweiten? Viele, wie Prof. Bren‑
tano selbst, meinen, auch da sei Existenz der Inhalt. Aber das geht nicht. Denn: ein[st] war
ein König = + einen gewesenen König. Gewesen = existiert haben, aber jetzt nicht mehr exis‑
tierend. Also scheint das Urteil etwas widersprechendes zu behaupten. An extensive analysis
of the problem is given in (Betti & Van der Schaar 2004).
negations. The judgement “Once there was a king” can now be understood
as a relational judgement. The content of this judgement is the subsistence
of the relationship of contemporaneousness between a king and a certain
period of time in the past, and the judgemental object is this relationship.
On this account, one does not assert that a (past) king exists, when one
makes the judgement.
What is a relationship (Verhältnis), according to Twardowski? The ex‑
ample about past objects seems to show that relationships do not exist in
time; it is precisely for this reason that Twardowski speaks of the subsistence
of a relationship. Is a relationship an ideal entity outside space and time?
Certainly, a relation is here not to be understood as a relational moment ob‑
taining between two objects, for such a moment can exist only if the terms
of the relation exist. It also seems to be more than a relational complex, for
as the notion is introduced above and understood by Meinong, a relational
complex exists only if the relata and the relational moment exist. There is
a second manuscript on logic, which contains notes from a course given a year
later in Lwów. Here, Twardowski speaks of the object of the judgement “the
sun rises” as the rising of the sun (Twardowski 1895/1896). Whereas the
term “the rising sun” may be understood as naming a relational complex,
which exists only if the rising and the sun exist, “the rising of the sun” may
be understood as denoting a state of affairs. In a letter to Meinong from
1897, Twardowski uses the term Sachverhalt for the object of judgement
(Twardowski 1897b, pp. 143-144). Although there is no reason to think that
Twardowski used the term in any technical sense, his notion of Sachverhalt
is clearly distinguished from the notion as it is introduced by Stumpf for
the content of judgement.12 Twardowski is close to acknowledging a special
object, a Sachverhalt, for the important category of relational judgements.
It is to be noted that Twardowski’s Sachverhalt as object of judgement is
acknowledged before Meinong developed his account of the objective at
the turn of the century. Twardowski may thus have influenced Meinong in
his development of the notion of the objective.
If Twardowski defends the thesis that there are two kinds of judgements,
the existential and the relational ones, can he still say that all judgements
are existential? In a certain sense he can, for in both cases existence or sub‑
sistence is affirmed or denied. So, he could introduce a notion of existence
that is general enough to cover the two cases. The important difference
with Brentano’s existential account of judgement consists in the fact that
Twardowski acknowledges a judgemental object, a state of affairs, which
has to be ideal insofar as it may contain parts that do not exist. This posi‑
12
A more extensive defence of the thesis that Twardowski has developed a notion of state of
affairs as the object of judgement is given in Betti & Van der Schaar (2004).
tion can still be found in the explanation of judgement given in the lecture
notes for a course on the psychology of thought, delivered in 1908/1909.
In an unfinished manuscript on the theory of judgement, which is written
for a series of lectures delivered in the academic year 1902‑1903, Twardows‑
ki follows another strategy. The question of the unique characteristic of
judgement is put in a new way. There is a criterion which distinguishes
judgements from all other mental activities (the first criterion): they can be
described as “true” or “false” in the proper meaning of these terms. This
criterion can be of use, only if we have a criterion to distinguish the proper
from the improper meanings of these terms. Twardowski gives such a cri‑
terion in terms of four rules:
(1) If “true” is used in its improper sense, as we use it in “true emotion,”
the term “true” can be replaced with the term “genuine” without
change of meaning of the phrase.
(2) If “false” is used in its improper sense, as in “false friend,” “false wit‑
ness,” or “false gold,” it can be replaced by phrases such as “feigned”
or “forged” without change of meaning.
(3) If “true” is used in its proper sense, it can be replaced by the phrase
“consistent with the truth” without change of meaning.
(4) If “false” is used in its proper sense, it can be replaced by the term
“erroneous” without change of meaning.
Because only judgements may be mistaken, substitution rule (4) functions
only for judgements or for sentences intimating a judgement. In rule (3)
and (4) “true” and “false” are used as attributive terms (see II.4); attributive
adjectives signify a feature of the objects referred to. Twardowski is able to
use the distinction between attributive or determining and modifying adjec‑
tives, introduced in the first chapter, to elucidate a philosophical distinction
again. “True” and “false” can be used in both ways. If we speak of a “false
witness,” the term “false” is used in its modifying sense, for a false witness
is not a witness, because this person is only pretending to testify. When we
speak of a “true witness”, “true” is not a determining adjective either, for it
does not complement the meaning of the word “witness”. In terms of rule (3)
and (4), “true” and “false” can be substituted by, respectively, “consistent
with the truth” and “erroneous” without change of meaning. If and only if
these terms are used in their determining sense, we know that judgements
are involved. For example, if we speak about a true sentence, and understand
that the term “true” is used in its determining sense, we know that this sen‑
tence is called “true” because it intimates a true judgement. This gives us
a second criterion to determine whether judgements are involved, which is
clearly related to the first one: “[I]f these adjectives are defining [= deter‑
mining, attributive], they indicate that the nouns they belong to represent
notion of state of affairs or relationship, which is the object, and not the
content of judgement. Twardowski was present when Łukasiewicz presented
the paper, and it may have influenced Twardowski’s development towards
the idea that the term “judgement” is ambiguous. It may refer to the act of
judging and to the judgemental product as well, where the latter, being the
proper bearer of truth and falsity, is the logical notion. Like Łukasiewicz,
Twardowski is not willing to acknowledge a Platonic realm of meanings
in specie, the way Husserl thinks is necessary to overcome psychologism
in logic. In what way does the distinction between judgement as act and
judgement as product help Twardowski to overcome his earlier psychologis‑
tic account of meaning? And, is he able to account for the absoluteness of
truth by acknowledging a bearer of truth and falsity that is less dependent
upon time than the act of judgement is?
that “the object of logic is thought, not thinking; not a mental function but
rather its product” (Twardowski 1908/09, p. 135). Twardowski says:
Discussion of judgement is the domain of logic, which studies them according to
their veracity or falsity, whereas psychology deals with the function of judging
(idem).
It is thus the judgement product, and not the act of judging, to which truth
and falsity pertain. Whereas psychology claims, according to Twardowski,
that harbouring two contradictory beliefs is impossible, logic claims that
two contradictory judgements cannot both be true, and cannot both be false.
The psychological law may be refuted by the obtainment of new empirical
evidence, but no such evidence would count against the logical law. Accord‑
ing to Twardowski, logic consists of two parts: a theoretical part, logic in
its proper sense, and a practical part, a whole of rules and guidelines how
to think. The latter is a technique that concerns our acts of judging and in‑
ferring. This practical part of logic is based on logic in the proper sense,
a theoretical study of the truth of judgements made (p. 109).
The distinction between the act and product of judgement can already
be found in Bolzano’s Wissenschaftslehre (1837) and in Julius Bergmann’s
Reine Logik (1879), where the terms “Erzeugnis” and “Werk” are used to
denote the product. According to Bergmann, logic is concerned not with the
act of judging but with the judgement, the products (Erzeugnisse) of the act
of judging (Bergmann 1879, p. 2). In the same way, a thought (Gedanke) is
what the act of thinking constructs (bildet) from its object, the object about. 13
We can thus speak of a product as a construction or formation (Gebilde).
Language has the possibility to distinguish between judging (das Urteilen)
and judgement (das Urteil) to make a distinction between the transitory act
and its enduring product (p. 39).
Immediately before Twardowski makes the distinction for the first time
in the academic year 1908/09, C. Stumpf and S. Witasek published on the
distinction between actions and products in, respectively, 1907 and 1908. Cf.
(Witasek 1908, pp. 71ff). Both Stumpf and Witasek use the term “Gebilde”
for the product of a mental process or action. Especially Stumpf’s separate
work Funktionen und Erscheinungen (Stumpf 1907) must have stimulated
Twardowski to elaborate on the distinction, and to use it to disambiguate
the term “judgement.” Stumpf’s distinction between function and product
(Gebilde) should not be confused with the distinction between function
and appearance (Erscheinung, Empfindung); the latter is comparable to
13
In der letzteren Bedeutung ist es so viel wie das Erzeugniß des Denkens, das Werk, welches
das Denken aus seinem Objekte bildet, also gleichbedeutend mit Gedanke, sofern darunter
nicht, wie oft geschieht, der Akt des Denkens verstanden wird. Nur in dem zweiten Sinne des
Wortes ist das Gedachte Gegenstand der Logik (Bergmann 1879, pp. 11-12).
Brentano’s distinction between act and object. Functions may cover acts,
states and experiences, whereas appearances are, for example, the sensory
objects to which these functions are directed. Function and sensory object
are dependent upon another, and they can only be distinguished by means of
abstraction. The distinction between function and product is of a different
kind. Products may have an objective character (Stumpf 1907, p. 30, note
1), and Stumpf compares the judgement product to Bolzano’s Satz an sich,
although Bolzano himself explicitly distinguishes the Satz an sich from the
judgement product. The judgemental product, also called a state of affairs,
a Sachverhalt, by Stumpf, is expressed by a that‑clause, “that there are no
Cyclopes,” or by an gerund construction “the nonbeing of Cyclopes.” Ac‑
cording to Stumpf, we can think of a state of affairs without judging, but
the state of affairs is only “real” as content of an actual judgement. Stumpf
had introduced the notion of state of affairs already in 1888 for the content
of judgement, as we have seen above. By identifying the judgement product
with the state of affairs as judgemental content, he identifies the content
with the product of judgement.
Just as Stumpf, Twardowski says, in a footnote, that the distinction be‑
tween the function of presenting and the presentation product is identical to
the distinction between act of presenting and content of presentation he had
introduced in 1894 (Twardowski 1912c, p. 114, note 30). This identification
may seem quite harmless if one looks at the content and the product of pre‑
senting. It is problematic, though, when applied to the notion of judgement.
Whereas the judgemental force is absent from the content of judgement,
it is present in the judgement made. The distinction might be less clear if
one argues that both the content and the product are dependent for their
existence on the act, as Stumpf and Twardowski do. As soon as one argues,
though, that one of the two notions is an abstract entity that has a being
independently of the act, it becomes clear that the two notions cannot be
identified. For Bolzano, the Satz an sich, which has the role of being the
content of a judgement, is distinguished from the judgement product that can
arise only as the result of an act of judging (Bolzano 1837, I, §20). For him,
the judgement (das Urteil) is an effect (eine Wirkung, etwas Gewordenes)
produced (hervorgebracht) by a judging (Urteilen). The judgement is thus
a product of the act of judging, and has to be distinguished from a Satz an
sich, which is not a product of a particular judging or proposing (ein Setzen).
If Twardowski’s distinction between judgemental act and judgement as
product would reduce to the distinction between act and content of judge‑
ment, his distinction would be far less original, as the latter distinction is
already extensively made inside and outside the Brentano school before
14
Hanna Buczyńska‑Garewicz (1980, p. 160) argues, though, that the differentation adds
nothing essentially new to the earlier distinction.
but we do not say in the same sense of “to express” that the utterance of
a sentence expresses a judgement made. If the sentence is uttered with asser‑
tive force, it intimates that a judgement has been made, but the meaning of
a sentence is something else; it is an identical element in the different uses
of the sentence. Because Twardowski does not clearly distinguish between
the content and the product of judgement, he is not able to make a distinction
between the semantic relation of expressing and the pragmatic relation of
intimating. He does not make a distinction between the semantic notion of
meaning that can be fully expressed in language, and the pragmatic notion
of assertive force that can only be shown. Twardowski’s notion of meaning,
the judgement made in the case of a declarative, involves both the semantic
and the pragmatic aspect.
For Twardowski, what a sentence expresses differs depending on the
use that is made of the sentence. A sentence is always a sentence token in
use, for it is essentially a psychophysical product of an act of speaking or
writing, accompanied by a mental act. This means that, for Twardowski,
each time a sentence is used a different meaning is given to it. How can
he account for the fact that a sentence has a meaning independent of the
concrete use that is made of it?
For Twardowski, the meaning of the utterance of a declarative is, in the
primary sense, the judgement made which produced this utterance. The
judgement made exists only at the moment the act of judging occurs, where‑
as the uttered declarative also has a meaning after the moment of judging.
Twardowski thus needs to introduce a second notion of meaning.
In the written sentence there potentially exist judgements made, in the
sense that this sentence may be the cause of a judgement produced by some‑
one who reads the sentence: “the mental product exists potentially (though
by no means truly and actually) in the psychophysical product” (p. 125).
These potential judgements form the meaning of the sentence in a second
sense. The potential existence of the judgements that can be made is thus
ontologically and conceptually dependent upon the actual existence of the
written sentence. It may be said that the meaning of the sentence is contained
in or embodied by the sentence insofar as the sentence is a partial cause of
the emergence of these mental products. The meaning in this sense exists
potentially in the sentence as psychophysical product. In the first meaning
the judgement product is the cause of the sentence, whereas in the second
meaning the sentence is the partial cause of the different judgement prod‑
ucts that may arise.
In order to explain that we may speak of an identical meaning of a par‑
ticular sentence token in use, Twardowski introduces the meaning of a sen‑
tence in a third sense. We can distinguish a group of common attributes in
the mental products elicited by a particular sentence token, provided “that
these common attributes correspond to the intent with which that psycho‑
physical product was utilized as a sign.” (p. 127). By an act of abstraction
performed on the particular mental products elicited by this token we are
able to speak about an identical meaning, although ontologically speaking
there is not an identical abstract object. An act of abstraction consists, ac‑
cording to Twardowski, in an act of attention, a special element is brought
into relief, together with an act of mentally eliminating other characteristics
(Twardowski 1903, p. 85; see chapter III). The product of this complicated
act of abstraction, the abstractum, may function as meaning of the linguis‑
tic product, but there is ontologically speaking no entity separate from the
common particular attributes or moments of the individual acts. Speaking
of an identical element is merely a way of speaking.
Twardowski refers in a footnote to Husserl’s notion of ideale Bedeu‑
tung (p. 128, note 55). There is an important difference, though, between
Twardowski’s notion of third meaning and Husserl’s notion of ideal mean‑
ing as developed in the first of the Logical Investigations (Husserl 1901,
pp. 102‑110, A 97‑A 105, §30‑35). The ideal meaning is a species indepen‑
dent of thought and language, and not a product of abstraction. For Hus‑
serl, the relation between the meaning and the expression that has meaning
(bedeutender Audruck) is the same as the relation between the species red
and the red object given in perception (Husserl 1901, p. 111, A 106). For
Husserl, we are only able to apprehend the meaning as species through acts
in which the species is instantiated, but this does not imply that the species
is conceptually and ontologically dependent upon these acts, as it is for
Twardowski. For Husserl, the ideal meaning comes first in the order of ex‑
planation to the acts that instantiate the meaning. The ideal meaning is the
identical logical content of an act, not its phenomenological content, which
differs from act to act. For Twardowski, the identical result of abstraction
is not a strict and true identity, as it is for Husserl (Husserl, 1901, p. 117,
A 112). Furthermore, each sentence token has its own abstract meaning
corresponding to the judgement that caused the sentence.
How is it possible for Twardowski to make a distinction between asserted
and unasserted contents? As Geach puts it: “A thought may have just the
same content whether you assent to its truth or not; a proposition may oc‑
cur in discourse now asserted, now unasserted, and yet be recognizably the
same proposition. … I shall call this point about assertion the Frege point,”
(Geach 1965, pp. 254-255). Twardowski acknowledges the problem, and
he introduces the notion of represented judgement as a solution. In order to
explain this notion, he introduces the distinction between an artificial and
a non‑artificial product (Twardowski 1912b, p. 129). The uttered declara‑
tive is a non‑artificial product insofar as it is the effect of an assertion or
judgement. In standard cases, Twardowski argues, the sentence expresses
15
The idea is already present in the Vienna Logic lectures: Was also die vorgestellten Urteile
betriffft, so sind das überhaupt nicht eine Art von Urteilen (Twardowski 1894/1895, p. 177).
16
For references, compare (Marušić 2014, p. 274).
17
For Bolzano, the Satz an sich either appears in our mind as content of an act of judgement,
or is present to the mind as the object of a presentations about the Satz an sich. Ein bloss
gedachter Satz, what Kant has called a “problematic judgement,” is, according to Bolzano,
nothing but a presentation of a proposition (Bolzano 1837, p. 4). The logician who asserts that
“If A is, so is B” neither judges that A is, nor that B is. The logician judges that [the truth of]
the proposition that B is, is a consequence of the truth of the proposition that A is (idem). The
logician makes a judgement about these propositions. He has a presentation of the propositions
that A is, and that B is; these propositions do not function here as contents of non‑judgemental
mental acts, but as the objects of such acts, just as is the case for Twardowski.
This point would also count for false judgements no one has ever passed.
With our capacity to judge we have a capacity to make false judgements,
too. For Twardowski, a truth no one knows yet exists in us, in our capacity
to judge, the third meaning of “judgement” mentioned above. For him, there
is ontologically speaking no ideal judgement no one has ever passed yet
independently of our capacity to judge. Twardowski’s thoughts in “Actions
and Products” may rightly be called Aristotelian.
Is the semantics Twardowski presents in “Actions and Products” psy‑
chologistic? The meaning of a sentence is, at least partly, explained in
naturalistic terms. The judgement product is the primary meaning of the
sentence only if it is a partial cause of that sentence; as far as the prima‑
ry meaning is concerned the relation between the psychophysical and the
mental product, that is, the relation of sign and meaning, seems to be arbi‑
trary. In principle, a judgement that the weather is cold could produce the
sentence “The weather is hot,” because the judger produces that sentence
by accident. The relation between sign and meaning is here arbitrary. On
the other hand, the sentence itself should be able to be the partial cause
for the emergence of similar mental products in those who apprehend the
sentence (Twardowski 1912b, p. 121). So, if the witness makes an assertion
by uttering the sentence “I have seen the accused coming out of the build‑
ing on that evening,” but judges at the same time that the accused did not
come out of the building that evening, the product of this act of judging
is not the meaning of the uttered sentence, in the second, and third, sense
of meaning introduced above (pp. 122, 124). The sentence must be able to
elicit similar judgement products in those hearing the sentence. The relation
between the second meaning and the sentence is thus not arbitrary. There
is a meaning in the second sense only if there is an agreement between the
judgement causing the sentence, and the judgements caused by the sentence.
Still, Twardowski’s account of the second meaning is given in naturalistic
terms alone. Identifying the non‑enduring mental product with the meaning
of the psychophysical product, Twardowski argues that the meaning exists
potentially in the product insofar as the latter is the partial cause of similar
mental products. The meaning of a declarative sentence as abstractum, the
third meaning, is explained in terms of the common attributes of products
of individual acts of judgement. This meaning is the result of a mental
act of abstraction. The abstractum is thus a result of an act of abstraction,
and in this sense there is no identical meaning without an individual’s
act of abstraction. As the abstraction is based upon common attributes of
the judgements made, Twardowski’s semantics need not be understood as
psychologistic. The common attributes which may be distinguished in the
different mental products are there independent of our act of abstraction.
The abstraction that results from the act of abstraction is thus not the result
of an arbitrary, subjective act; it is the result of an act of abstraction upon
common attributes that can be found in the judgements made.
and Desdemona. The relation of judging connects the different terms, and
gives the terms a sense or direction which places them in a certain order.
The unity and order should be different from the one that is constituted by
the relation of love if they actually love each other, for if it is a fact that
Desdemona loves Cassio, this is not the result of Othello’s judgement. It may
be true that women sometimes love another man as result of their husband’s
judgement, but that seems to be an empirical fact, not a fact to result from
one’s theory of judgement. Love does not have its relating function in the
act of judging; it is merely a term to be connected by the act of judging.
If the judgement is true, there corresponds to the judgement a complex in
which loving does occur as a relation, actually relating Desdemona to Cas‑
sio in the same order as was done in the act of judging. Russell’s theory
is of importance to Twardowski, because it is a variant of the traditional
account of judgement as a combining or separating of ideas. The only two
differences consist in the point that for Russell, in his mature account of
the multiple relation theory, a judging connects objects, not ideas, and that
there is for him no separate act of denial. There is today a revival of Rus‑
sell’s multiple relation theory of judgement. It is therefore of interest to see
what Twardowski’s critique is.
In the first place, Twardowski argues that judging is not a relation. The
act of judging is not characterised by the fact that a relation is involved. As
the act is sui generis, it is not to be explained as a relation together with
a specific difference (Twardowski 1925, p. 204). Judging is something in the
mind, owing to which a relation comes about, but it is itself not a relation
(p. 198). As Twardowski puts it, “the decision to take a trip is not a “relation”
between the mind that decides and the taking of the trip” (idem). One may
speak about a relation between the mind and the judgement made, but this
relation is constituted by the fact that one judges, and the latter fact has to
be explained independently of the mentioned relation. Twardowski’s point
is that judging is an activity, and that an activity is not to be understood as
a relation. The activity of taking a walk, results in the walk taken, but one
cannot explain the activity in terms of a relation between the walker and the
walk taken, for we would then explain the action in terms of what comes
second in the order of explanation, the product.
It is true that the early Twardowski acknowledges an object of judgement,
a simple object or a state of affairs, to which we are related in the act of
judgement, but such a relation is not defining for the judgement, as there are
other ways in which we may be related to such an object. Furthermore, for
Twardowski, the judgement has a content, which directs it to this particular
object rather then to another; the relation is thus constituted by the fact that
the judgement has a certain content, and the latter is prior in the conceptual
order to the judgement’s relation to the object. This content makes a par‑
ticular judgement into the judgement it is, but it cannot be used to define
the act of judging as such. The latter is an undefinable act of affirming or
denying, and the notion of content is not part of it.
Second, Russell uses the terms “belief,” “judging,” “statement” and
“judgement” interchangeably (p. 198). Twardowski argues that Russell does
not see that we have to make a distinction between the act of judging and
the judgement made. This is of importance for the question of truth, for it
is the judgement made, not the act of judging, which is the proper bearer
of truth and falsehood (idem; see chapter VI). We may add that these terms
also show an actuality/potentiality ambiguity, as we have to make a dis‑
tinction between the act of judging and the capacity to judge. Furthermore,
Russell’s term “statement” may stand for the act of stating, the statement
made, and the stated content, as we have seen above.
Third, Russell’s explanation of judgement presupposes that the act of
judging is an act of unifying. When Othello judges that Desdemona loves
Cassio, the objects Othello, Desdemona, love and Cassio are unified by the
act of judging. Furthermore, if the judgement is true, there exists another
complex unity that of Desdemona loving Cassio. As Russell says: “[I]f
Othello believes truly that Desdemona loves Cassio, then there is a complex
unity, … , when a belief is false, there is no such complex unity” (Russell
1912, p. 74). This point captures, Twardowski argues, what is meant by one
of the Aristotelian explanations of truth:
When Aristotle says that “he who thinks the separated to be separated and the com‑
bined to be combined has the truth,” he assumes that something combined or separat‑
ed exists (Twardowski 1925, p. 199).
For Aristotle and Russell, the act of unifying the constituents into a com‑
plex whole is essential to the act of judging, whereas this is not the case
for Twardowski.
Whether I think of something by means of a single concept or a combination of con‑
cepts is irrelevant to the essence of judgement. What is crucial here is simply the
affirmation or denial of the existence of the represented object (p. 201).
The former chapter is a prelude to the one on knowing and prejudice, as both
notions are explained by Twardowski in terms of judgement. The standard
explanation of knowledge as justified true belief seems not to have judge‑
ment as part of its explanation, but as we have seen in the former chapter,
the term “belief” needs to be disambiguated. The two notions that seem to
play a role in the standard account of knowledge as a kind of belief are the
notions of conviction and of disposition to judge, at least, if knowledge is
understood as a disposition, a potentiality (a habitus, see chapter IV). It is
well known that there is an important problem with the standard explanation
of knowledge, as we may create Gettier cases. We can imagine a case in
which a belief is justified and true, whereas we would not call it knowledge.
If someone looks at a clock, reads that it is three o’clock, and the time is
also three o’clock, his judgement seems to be true and justified, and would
normally count as knowledge. The Gettier case is created by adding to the
example the perspective of a third person, who knows that the clock is defect.
From this third person perspective, the person’s judgement can no longer
be understood as knowledge. I will argue in this chapter that Twardowski’s
account of knowledge is able to prevent such problems.
Just as we have to make a distinction between the act of judging and the
judgement made, we have to make a distinction between the act of knowing
and knowledge as product. Examples of acts of knowing are acts of perceiving
resulting in a perception made: an act of insight or understanding resulting
in a certain insight, and an act of demonstrating resulting in a conclusion,
a knowledge product. Sometimes an act of knowing is acknowledged, while
the act is explained as an act of getting to know, an act through which we
acquire knowledge (as product). On such an account, knowledge is prior in
the order of explanation to the cognitive act. Twardowski rightly saw that
the product is the result of the act, and that the act is thus the notion that
needs to be explained first.
Second, we have to make a distinction between the act of knowing and
knowledge as disposition or habitus; we may have knowledge, although we
are sleeping. Knowledge as disposition is not an act; knowledge is a po‑
tentiality that can be actualised in acts of judging, which may be accom‑
panied by a state of conviction. The distinction is made by Brentano in his
Psychologie vom empirischen Standpunkt. We may possess a storehouse of
obtained cognitions (Erkenntnisse) without thinking of them. Such knowl‑
edge has to be understood as a disposition to make certain acts, not as itself
being an act of knowing (ein Erkennen; cf. (Brentano 1874, p. 144)). This
may also be called the distinction between knowing and having knowledge.
Third, knowledge is often contrasted with opinion. Whereas knowledge
is always the result of a true judgement, opinions may be true or false.
If someone utters a declarative sentence, one is entitled to ask “How do
you know that?”. If no answer is given, we may draw the conclusion that
only an intimation of a subjective opinion is given, and that the declara‑
tive sentence was not uttered with full assertive force. If the speaker has
presented his subjective opinion as though it is valid for all, that is, if the
declarative sentence is put forward with full assertive force, we may say
that his opinion is a prejudice. Because the speaker has no ground for his
assertion, he is not entitled to make the judgement. Prejudice is an opin‑
ion without judgement, as Voltaire put it: Le préjugé est une opinion sans
jugement. We may call the prejudice a “judgement” but only in a deprived,
modified sense of the term.
Finally, we have to make a distinction between knowing an object and
having knowledge about something, on the one hand, and knowing that …
and having knowledge that …, on the other hand. The distinction is diffi‑
cult to formulate in English; most European languages make a distinction
between what is called kennen and wissen in German, and in French con‑
naître and savoir. Seeing John is an example of knowing an object, and to
know Paris is to have knowledge about Paris, to have become acquainted
with Paris. Perceiving that John is wearing a red jacket is an example of
knowing that … as an act, and knowledge that 7 + 5 = 12 is an example of
having knowledge that so and so. The latter is sometimes called “proposi‑
tional knowledge”, but this is an inappropriate formulation, just as speaking
of knowledge as a “propositional attitude” is confusing. These phrases seem
to imply that we know a proposition, but that cannot be true. Knowledge
that snow is white is not identical with the apprehension of the proposi‑
tional object that snow is white; such conceptual knowledge is not what is
at stake. What we know is that a certain proposition is true. We may call
4
The fascinating notion of objective ground in Bolzano does not play a role in Twardowski’s
writings. The objective ground of a Satz an sich is the reason why the latter is true. If we know
the objective ground of a, we understand why a is true. Understanding (Begreifen / Einsehen)
is thus a stronger notion than knowing. The act of understanding results in a clear insight
(cf. Bolzano 1837, III, § 316). Bolzano also has a concept of Wissen or certain knowledge,
knowledge with a high degree of confidence. Cf. Schaar (2007).
5
The text is published in Polish in 1975, and published in English in 1999; cf. (Twardowski
1925).
the judgement product rather than to the act of judging. Twardowski explains
cognition as product of the correct judgement, whereas the act of cognizing
is an act of judging resulting in the correct judgement. On Twardowski’s
account, the theory of knowledge abstracts from the activity of judging,
focussing on true judgement products.
To come back to Twardowski’s central question, what does having knowl‑
edge mean? To have knowledge can be understood as the capacity to make
a correct judgement. This definition Twardowski considers too broad. If
someone asks me “How much money do you have in your pocket?”, I may
not know the answer at this moment, although I have the capacity to make
a correct judgement by counting the money. We would not call this knowl‑
edge, although there is the capacity to make a correct judgement. Essential
to having knowledge is that I have once made the correct judgement. In
this case, if someone asks me how much money is in my pocket, I will be
able to give an answer on the basis of memory. This leads Twardowski to
an explanation of knowledge that has a strong similarity with the explana‑
tion of knowledge given in the third part of Bolzano’s Wissenschaftslehre.
According to Twardowski, a person P has the knowledge that J, if and only
if (cf. (Schaar 2009)):
(a) P has once passed a judgement resulting in the judgement J;
(b) the judgement product J is true;
(c) P is able to remember the judgement J;
(d) P has the capacity / the disposition for making correct judgements
similar to J.
Although the notion of judgemental act or cognitive act is not completely
absent in this explanation, as there cannot be a judgement product without
a judgemental act, it is rather the judgement product J that plays a central
role in each of the conditions. What is clearly absent in the explanation is
a notion like justification. Brentano’s idea that knowledge is the evident
judgement is absent from the explanation, and no alternative is given, apart
from the idea that the judgement has to be true. Compared with the standard
explanation of knowledge, condition (c) strikes one as new: without the pos‑
sibility to remember the first judgement, there is no knowledge. What is it
precisely that we have to remember? Do we have to remember that we have
counted the money? The fact that we have counted the money does not seem
essential to Twardowski. He might argue that the act of judgement leaves
a certain trace in our memory system, by which we are able to remember
that the judgement is made. Twardowski is not explicit on this point, though.
Because of the distinction between actions and products, the notion of
cognitive act plays a role in Twardowski’s epistemology. This role is small,
though, for in order to prevent a psychologism in epistemology, he argues
that the cognitive act is not relevant for epistemology. I think, though, that
logic and epistemology are in need of the notion of cognitive act, and I will
give an example below. On the account of knowledge Twardowski has given
in 1912 and in 1925, Gettier cases cannot be formulated, because the notion
of justification is not part of his explanation of cognition. For Twardows‑
ki, a cognitive act is an act of judgement resulting in a correct judgement,
where correctness is not understood in epistemic terms. As we will see in
the next chapter, Twardowski explains truth in terms of correspondence.
Would it be possible to strengthen Twardowski’s concept of cognition in
such a way that a notion of justification is present without invoking Gettier
problems? I think this would be possible by demanding of the cognitive act
that it is cognitive in the sense that it is an act of perceiving, an act of un‑
derstanding, or an act of inference on the basis of other judgements made,
that is, an act of demonstrating. In all three cases the judgemental act results
in a judgement made that may count as knowledge, and not merely as a cor‑
rect judgement. For the judgement is made evident by an act of perceiving,
an act of understanding, or an act of demonstrating. In the latter case, the
judgements that function as the premises for the conclusion, may be called
the justification for our knowledge. It is clear that in the other two cases,
the perceiving and the understanding, the judgement made, the perception
or the insight, is also the result of an act of cognizing in the strict sense, and
may therefore count as knowledge, too. In all three cases the judgement is
made evident by a cognitive act, and thereby counts as knowledge. Although
the evidence of the judgement should not be understood in Brentano’s sense
of infallible evidence, it is a stronger notion of justification than on most
modern accounts of the notion. If we learn that our former act of perceiving
that there is a lady on the stairs is an illusion, because we see now that it
is a wax figure, we can no longer consider the act to be a cognitive act. We
can no longer say that we have perceived that there is a lady on the stairs,
only that it seemed to us so, then. So, we can no longer call it knowledge.
There is thus an internal relation between the cognitive act and knowledge
as product, just as there is between actions and products in general. What
is called a justification in the Gettier cases, would not count as a justifica‑
tion on this account. If our conclusion is based on false premises, the act
of inference is not a cognitive act. It is thus that epistemology may use the
notion of the cognitive act.6
According to Twardowski, the task of a theory of knowledge is to in‑
vestigate the truth of the first premises of the special sciences. The first
principles of the sciences cannot be proved. Science presupposes the truth
of its first premises, and the task of philosophy is to investigate their truth.
6
How this account may be used to give an answer to the problem created by the Gettier cases,
is elaborated in (Schaar 2011).
a judgement that is not. This criterion must be either known or not known.
If it is known, it should be asked on the basis of what criterion we can say
that we know it, and we have returned to our original problem. If it is not
known, we have to make the criterion an object of knowledge. In order to
determine whether our object of judgement, the criterion, is an object of
knowledge, we need to apply the criterion. That is, the question whether
the object of judgement is an object of knowledge must already be decid‑
ed (Nelson 1908, p. 92). Nelson’s critique concerns Meinong’s position
in Über die Erfahrungsgundlagen unseres Wissens that was published in
1906, and Nelson’s book got a 60 page review from Höfler in his Erkennt‑
nisprobleme und Erkenntnistheorie from 1910. Höfler criticises Nelson’s
psychological interpretation of the a priori. A theory of knowledge, Höfler
says, does not concern the psychological analysis of actual knowledge‑pro‑
cesses. It rather concerns the understanding of the meaning of such words
as “Erkennen” and “Erkanntes,” “cognizing” and “cognition,” and their
a priori relations, a point well taken by Twardowski. Höfler’s solution to
the problem of the criterion in terms of evidence is no longer defended by
Twardowski in his later years. It is clear, though, that he still considers the
problem to be of importance: “The problem of the criterion of truth is one
of the most important problems for a theory of knowledge” (Twardowski
1925, p. 189). Twardowski’s answer to the problem consists in admitting that
we have to acknowledge certain principles of reasoning and first premises,
primitive judgements, as well. It is precisely here that the sciences are in
need of philosophy. Twardowski is not a Neo-Kantian for whom questions
of knowledge are prior to all other philosophical questions. Twardowski’s
main philosophical question is the question of truth. Before we ask what
knowledge is, we have to answer the question what truth is, according to
Twardowski. And a definition of truth is not to be confused with a truth
criterion (p. 239). As Twardowski explains knowledge in terms of truth,
it seems that the question of truth is the central question for a theory of
knowledge. It is for this reason that Twardowski spends the greater part of
his epistemology lectures on the question of truth, and I come back to the
topic in the next chapter.
and the university is not only to bring society knowledge, it also cultivates
the ideal of independent thought.
Success in this area will not only result in people being better educated but also in
them being better by being less prejudiced, and more mindful of the truth (Twardow‑
ski 1906b, p. 90).
When Alfred Tarski presents his semantic concept of truth, he aims at a defi‑
nition of truth in conformity with “the classical Aristotelian conception of
truth,” chosing the formulation of Metaphysics Γ, 1011b26‑27:
To say of what is that it is not, or of what is not that it is, is false, while to say of what
is that it is, or of what is not that is not, is true (Tarski 1944, p. 343).
ideas mentioned above can be brought back to Twardowski. The fact that
Tarski defends an absolute notion of truth, from which the (meta)logical
principles can be derived (cf. (Tarski 1944, p. 354)), that the bearer of truth
and falsity is an interpreted sentence, and that Aristotle’s weak version of
the correspondence definition of truth is a key to the definition of truth
can all be brought back to Twardowski’s theory of truth and truthbearers.
Because he distinguishes between object‑ and metalanguage, Tarski makes
a distinction between “semantical laws,” given in terms of “true” and “false,”
and the logical laws of contradiction and excluded middle, a distinction
not acknowledged by Twardowski. It is these semantical laws that can be
deduced from the definition of truth, Tarski argues.
We may start our analysis of Twardowski’s account of truth by pointing
to a difference with Tarski. Whereas for Tarski truth pertains to sentences,
Twardowski argues for the absoluteness of truth by claiming that the proper
bearer of truth is not the sentence, but the judgement product. Tarski’s sen‑
tences are interpreted sentences, and truth is thus a property of sentences
together with their meaning; formal languages, for which the truth‑defini‑
tion is given, are already interpreted. Artur Rojszczak has given an account
of the different explanations Tarski has given of the sentence, one of them
being that a sentence is the product of human activity. Tarski clearly uses
here Twardowski’s distinction between actions and products.1 In general,
Tarski’s thesis that sentences are the primary bearers of truth and falsity
can be understood as a linguistic variant of Twardowski’s thesis that the
judgement product is the proper bearer of truth and falsity. Although Tarski
may be understood as having sympathies with the nominalism of his super‑
visor Leśniewski – neither of them would endorse Twardowski’s defence
of general objects, the sign is for both an interpreted sign. Leśniewski’s in‑
terest in formal logic does not make him a formalist in Hilbert’s sense; the
axioms are insights, not arbitrary starting points for a formal system. The
theses and axioms of logic have intuitive validity (Leśniewski 1929, p. 78).
And the young Tarski follows his former supervisor in this respect. Tarski’s
thesis that the sentence is the bearer of truth and falsity is of importance
for his thesis that truth is a semantic notion. Truth relates the interpreted
sentence to the world, and is thereby a semantic notion. Notwithstanding
the fact that Twardowski considers the judgement product to be the proper
bearer of truth and falsity, while Tarski takes sentences to have this role,
both understand truth and falsity to be independent of the occasion at which
the bearer is used. Truth is not relative to context or circumstances. Simi‑
lar to Tarski, both Łukasiewicz and Leśniewski have presented a linguistic
1
“Normally expressions are regarded as the products of human activity (or classes of such
products)” (Tarski 1933, p. 174); cf. (Rojszczak 2005, p. 206). Cf. (Woleński 2009, p. 50):
“Leśniewski and Tarski both considered language to arise from acts of using expressions.”
2
The distinction between the two definitions of truth in Aristotle is clearly put forward by
Twardowski in his lectures on knowledge and truth. The definition in which the notion of
weaker correspondence plays a role is of importance for Twardowski’s own definition of
truth. Jan Woleński and Peter Simons have introduced the terminology of “weak” and “strong”
correspondence with respect to the two definitions in Aristotle.
What we assert is the existence of God, ghosts, thundering, raining, the love
of Desdemona for Cassio, or the equality of the product of two times two
and four (Twardowski 1925, p. 204). It is for this reason that Twardowski
gives the following definition of judgemental truth:
An affirmative judgement is true if its object exists, a negative judgement, if its
object does not exist. An affirmative judgement is false if its object does not exist;
a negative judgement, if its object does not exist. (p. 208).
acteristic of being a murderer, a man who has killed another man, does not
give a direct criterion to determine whether someone is a murderer, for we
cannot determine whether someone is a murderer simply by investigating
that person. Those who give an alternative to the correspondence theory,
such as the coherence and the pragmatist account, confuse a definition of
truth with a criterion of truth, according to Twardowski.3
Another argument that is taken seriously by Twardowski is the point
that the correspondence theory involves certain metaphysical assumptions
(p. 211). Twardowski’s formulation of the definition presupposes that the
object of judgement may exist as something independent of us, and that
existence has a certain meaning. It may be called “the theory of external,
object‑oriented, transcendent correspondence” (p. 211). Apparently, Twar‑
dowski does not consider this to be a counterargument to the correspondence
definition of truth, and he seems to be willing to accept these metaphysical
theses. Metaphysics as a general theory of objects is not at all to be ex‑
cluded from a scientific approach to philosophy. The fact that the concept
of existence has for us its origin in our judgements as acknowledgements
of existence does not exclude the thesis that objects exist independently of
our judging them to exist.
Due to the fact that we are familiar with the idea that different logical sys‑
tems may be developed in accordance with different philosophical princi‑
ples, we are now used to make a distinction between a principle outside
the logical system and a law that can be proved within the logical system,
or that may function as an axiom within the system. Today these principles
are formulated in metalogical terms, that is, in terms of truth and whatever
is assumed to be the truthbearer, the proposition, judgement or sentence.
In the work of Brentano and Twardowski, we see that what is called the
“law of contradiction” and the “law of excluded middle” are formulated
in terms of “judgement” and “truth.” The question whether these laws are
metalogical principles or laws within the system is not easy to answer. On
the one hand, it is clear that these laws are formulated in terms of “truth”
and “judgement”, which would imply that they are metalogical principles;
on the other hand, these principles are considered to be judgements which
are immediately evident, and they can be used to prove that other judge‑
ments are correct. They function thus as axioms within the logical system.
Apparently, the laws do double duty, depending on function and formulation.
3
A greater part of the lectures contain a discussion and critique of the coherence and the
pragmatist theory of truth, and of the Neo‑Kantian account of truth, as well.
judgements that are neither true nor false. It is also possible to defend BV,
while rejecting EM, as Leśniewski has done (see section 3). One may also
defend the principle of excluded middle in a strong version:
EMS: Of two contradictory judgements, one is true.
EMS´: If a judgement is not false, then it is true.
EMS´ together with the thesis that if a judgement is not true, then it is
false gives BV. I have called EMS and EMS´ stronger principles than EM
and EM´, because, as we will see, Kotarbiński defends the weaker, while
rejecting the stronger principles. It is not at all clear that this is a correct
terminology, though, for, as we will see, Leśniewski endorses BV and EMS´
but denies EM´ and EMS. From Leśniewski’s point of view, the principles
should not be put together the way it is done here. Twardowski argues for the
absoluteness of truth, truth is not relative to time or whatever circumstance,
and for classical truth as well. Twardowski defends the classical notion of
truth insofar as he defends the principles of bivalence, contradiction and
excluded middle. Sometimes, the term “classical notion of truth” refers to
the correspondence theory of truth. I am in need, though, of a separate ter‑
minology. As we will see below, Twardowski’s students, if they think that
truth is definable at all, defend a version of the correspondence definition of
truth, but they do not endorse all the logical principles Twardowski assumes
to follow from the correspondence theory of truth. The early Kotarbiński
and Łukasiewicz deny the absoluteness of truth with respect to time, and
thus do not defend a classical notion of truth. Leśniewski defends the ab‑
soluteness of truth and the principle of bivalence, while rejecting classical
truth in its full force.
In the paper “On so‑called relative truths,” written in 1900, Twardow‑
ski explains an absolute truth as a judgement which is true always and ev‑
erywhere, while a relative truth is a truth that is true only under a certain
condition. A truth is either a relative or an absolute truth. In the paper,
Twardowski defends the thesis that all truth is absolute, understanding truth
as a property of the primary truthbearer, the judgement made.
A judgement J is a relative truth, if and only if J is true under certain circumstances,
while J is not true under other circumstances.
9
The Vorstellung an sich expressed by “This” (Dies A) already relates to precisely one object;
cf. (Bolzano 1837, p. 9).
10
“[A]n eternal sentence [is] a sentence whose truth value stays fixed through time and from
speaker to speaker. … An eternal sentence may be expected to be free of indicator words …
To finish the job of eternalizing the sentence … we have to supplant the ‘now’ by a date …”
(Quine 1960, pp. 193-194).
not true (p. 161), whereas the principle of contradiction says that no judge‑
ment can be both true and false (p. 162). From this it would follow, for the
relativist, that a judgement and its contradictory are both true, which is a
violation of NC. All proof relies on these principles, which are the funda‑
mental laws of thinking, according to Twardowski. Especially the principle
of contradiction cannot be eliminated from human reasoning and thinking;
it functions as a presupposition of thought.
In the Wiener Logik, these highest principles of thought are axioms,
a priori pieces of knowledge (Erkenntnisse; cf. (Twardowski 1894/1895,
p. 228)), which are immediately evident. They are judged with full insight,
and therefore do not need any grounding (Begründung). In the Logik,
Twardowski gives the following explanation of the principle of contradiction:
Of two judgements, of which one affirms what the other denies, one must be false,
that is, they cannot both be true (p. 230).
It is to be noted that in both laws, the second explanation (“They cannot both
be true/false”) does not have the same meaning as the first (“One must be
false/true”). The second explanation expresses, respectively, NC and EM,
and is thus weaker than the first explanation, which express, respectively,
NCS and EMS. The two principles given above are independent of each oth‑
er, according to Twardowski. The combination of the two principles is very
powerful, as it says that of two contradictory judgements that one is true,
while the other is false, a version of BV. This is due to the first, stronger part
of the principles: “one must be false / true.” The claim that they cannot both
be true / false is the weaker formulation that allows for truth‑value gaps.
In the Wiener Logik, Twardowski used the principle of contradiction to
argue against the skeptic. He explains the skeptic as someone who denies
that there is a distinction between true and false (p. 234). The skeptic does
not argue that truth is relative; his position, though, is relevant with respect
to the logical laws. Twardowski argues against the skeptic that his position
cannot be defended without assuming the principle of contradiction; as soon
as he makes a judgement, he claims that what he says is true, and he there‑
by presupposes that the distinction between truth and falsity makes sense.
It is of interest that for Twardowski the question whether truth is ab‑
solute or relative is directly related to the logical laws, as the status of the
logical laws is of central importance to his pupils Łukasiewicz, Leśniewski
and Kotarbiński in their early writings. As we will see in the next section,
Kotarbiński relates the question whether truth is relative to time directly
got the broad notion of “object” directly from Meinong, and only indirectly from Twardowski.
prove the ontological or the logical law this way. This conclusion would
be no problem for Twardowski’s early account of the law, as he takes the
logical law of contradiction to be an axiom, whose truth is guaranteed by
an act of insight. As a good Brentanist, Twardowski says that the law is
immediately evident. This position is not available, though, to Łukasiewicz.
For, he gives a severe critique of such a position: (1) he himself does not
see that the law is evident; (2) being evident is not a criterion of truth, for
if the notion of evidence is not internally related to that of truth, it can only
refer to a mental state, a feeling that accompanies our judgements (p. 126). 12
As philosophers have often called judgements evident that turned out to be
false, there is no internal relation between the notions of being evident and
being true. Evidence is thus nothing but a feeling. Furthermore, it is not
possible to prove the law by appealing to the psychological necessity of the
law; the distinction between the logical and the psychological law makes it
clear that the psychological necessity of the law only relates to the latter,
but even in that sense there is no proof, for it is doubtful that there exists
such a psychological necessity (p. 127).
For Łukasiewicz, the term “judgement” is central to the logical principle.
What he calls a “judgement” is not a mental state of conviction or a com‑
bination of concepts; it is rather a string of words proposing (aussagen)
that something is or is not (Łukasiewicz 1910a, p. 15). Judgement is for
Łukasiewicz a linguistic entity, thus keeping the Twardowskian terminology
of “judgement,” but changing the meaning of the term. The “judgement”
is for Łukasiewicz a logico‑linguistic proposition, a declarative sentence;
a logical, not a psychological fact. I will use the term “(linguistic) propo‑
sition” or “(logical) sentence” where Łukasiewicz speaks of “judgement”.
The sentence essentially has a meaning, and it is the proper bearer of truth
and falsity. When do two linguistic propositions express the same thought,
that is, when do they have the same sense? Łukasiewicz acknowledges that
problems around identity of sense are of great importance:
The distinction between sense identical judgements and equivalent judgements with
non‑identical sense belongs to the most difficult, but als to the most important prob‑
lems of logic (pp. 17-18, note).
If two sentences have the same meaning, then they are logically equiv‑
alent. It might be the case, though, that two logically equivalent sentences
differ in meaning. Logical equivalence is a necessary, but not a sufficient
condition for identity of meaning. According to Łukasiewicz, “Plato was
12
Die Verwendung des Begriffs der Evidenz als Wahrheitskriterium ist ein Überrest des ‘Psy‑
chologismus’, der die philosophische Logik auf den Holzweg brachte (Łukasiewicz 1910a,
p. 127). Thinking of Heidegger’s metaphor, not meant to be a Holzweg with a Lichtung, an
appearance of truth, at the end.
the teacher of Aristotle” and “Aristotle was the pupil of Plato” are logically
equivalent, because each follows from the other. The two sentences do not
have the same meaning, though, for the word “Aristotle” relates to another
object than the word “Plato,” and the phrase “was the teacher of Aristotle”
relates to another property than the phrase “was the pupil of Plato” (Łuka‑
siewicz 1910a, p. 17). Apparently, the linguistic structure of the sentence
determines the structure of the meaning, certainly not a thesis endorsed by
Frege. For Łukasiewicz, all logical sentences have either the form “Object
O contains property P,” or “Object O does not contain property P” (p. 16).
Sentences have the same meaning, if and only if “O” signifies the same
object, “P” signifies the same property, and these sentences have the same
form, that is, they are both positive or both negative. This means that the
sentences “Aristotle was the founder of logic” and “The Stagirite was the
founder of logic” have the same meaning. Leśniewski will criticise Łu‑
kasiewicz on this point.
Central to Łukasiewicz’ logical principle is the definition of a true
judgement: “True is an affirmative judgement, which attributes a property
to an object that the object contains; true is a negative judgement that de‑
nies a property of an object the latter does not contain” (p. 20). A definition
Łukasiewicz considers to be supported by Aristotle’s weaker definition of
truth given in Metaphysics Γ. Being is not only the logical ground, but also
the real cause for the truth of the judgement, as Łukasiewicz puts it (p. 21).
On the basis of the definition of a true judgement one can show the logical
and the ontological law are equivalent, although they are not identical in
meaning, for the first is about objects, whereas the latter is a law concerning
meaningful sentences.
Łukasiewicz’ doubts concerning the possibility to prove the law of con‑
tradiction is not meant as a diminishment of the importance of it as a prin‑
ciple. It is true that it has no logical value, as it cannot be proved within the
system. It has, though, a considerable moral value. Without the principle, it
would not make sense to say that a judgement contradicts other judgements
made, and it would thus be impossible to point out that an error is made,
that someone is lying, or to defend oneself in court against accusations,
although one has an alibi (pp. 166‑169).
Łukasiewicz also expresses some doubts concerning the principle of ex‑
cluded third in this early period. Perhaps, abstract objects are not subject to
the principle. Abstract objects, which include not only general objects, but
also mathematical and logical objects, are, for Łukasiewicz, constructions
of the mind.13 These created objects have relations among each other that
13
Łukasiewicz calls the general objects reconstructions of the mind, because they depend on
experience, whereas mathematical and logical object are constructions, which are independent
of experience.
cannot freely be chosen by the mind. They may even contain contradictions,
as Russell’s paradox has shown, and they are in this sense independent of our
will (pp. 140‑149). Abstract objects do not exist in reality; they are nothing
but products of the human mind (p. 140). We obtain them by comparing
a sequence of concrete objects, focus on the common properties, and delete
the properties in which they differ (p. 139). Łukasiewicz’ explanation of
abstract, general objects is in this sense reminiscent of Twardowski’s ex‑
planation of general objects given in 1894.
Łukasiewicz follows Meinong in calling these abstract objects incom‑
plete. What makes the abstract object general is its incompleteness. Probably
Łukasiewicz has discussed the topic of incomplete objects with Meinong
when he was in Graz in 1909, although Meinong had not published his
work on incomplete objects yet. When we speak of a concrete pillar like
the Mickiewicz‑pillar in Lwów one can either correctly attribute or cor‑
rectly deny of the pillar any property one can think of. This means that the
pillar is a complete object. Abstract general objects like the pillar as such
form an important group of incomplete objects: there are properties, such
as the property of being made of bronze, which can neither correctly be at‑
tributed nor correctly be denied of the incomplete object: “[T]he judgement
“The pillar [as such] is made of bronze” is neither true nor false” (p. 139).
From this Łukasiewicz does not immediately draw the conclusion that the
principle of excluded middle does not hold for abstract, that is, incomplete
objects. Only if one claimed that each of the two judgements is false, one
would be committed to the claim that incomplete objects are not subject
to the principle of excluded middle (p. 139, note). The formulation of the
principle of excluded middle Łukasiewicz must have in mind can be found
in the talk Łukasiewicz gave in Lwów in 1910:
It is doubtful whether the principle of excluded middle holds for general objects,
such as the triangle in general or man in general … this object is … not defined with
respect to equilaterality and non‑equilaterality. For this reason, both the propositions
“the triangle is equilateral” and “the triangle is non‑equilateral” appear to be false
(Łukasiewicz 1910b, p. 69).
The principle of excluded middle would thus be that two contradictory sen‑
tences cannot both be false, that is, the principle would not even hold in its
weak sense, for this is EM mentioned above. The fact that the triangle in
general is not determined with respect to the property of equilaterality ex‑
plains that the principle of excluded middle might not hold for it. The talk
of 1910 in Lwów foreshadows the discussion of the principle of excluded
middle in Kotarbiński’s article from 1913, which discussion will be the
topic of the next section:
With regard to real objects, the principle of excluded middle seems to be closely con‑
nected with the postulate of universal determination of phenomena, not only present
and past but also future ones. Were someone to deny that all future phenomena are
today already predetermined in all respects, he would probably not be able to accept
the principle in question (Łukasiewicz 1910b, p. 69).
true sentences and the total number of values for the variables (idem). In
order to determine the truth‑value of an open sentence we therefore have
to determine the range of the variable, and, according to Łukasiewicz, this
range has to be finite and non‑empty.
As was noted at the beginning of section 2, Twardowski drew the atten‑
tion of Łukasiewicz to Bolzano’s writings on the validity and the compar‑
ative validity or probability of a proposition.15 Twardowski was important
for the spreading of Bolzano’s ideas also in cases where he himself did not
specifically endorse them. Starting with a sentence with an indexical term,
“This flower smells pleasant”, Bolzano draws our attention to the fact that
we may consider a part of a Satz an sich as variable. In the sentence, the
term “this flower” may refer to a rose or a stapelia, the notion expressed thus
differs in the two cases, which means that the sentence may be considered
as expressing two propositions. We are thus able to consider a certain notion
in a proposition as variable (veränderlich). If we then consider the different
propositions that may thus be obtained, we are able to form the concept of
validity of a proposition. If all the propositions resulting from the substitution
of a variable part are true and objectual, the original proposition is called
completely valid with respect to this part, and the degree of its validity is
1. If only false propositions are obtained than the proposition is generally
invalid with respect to this variable part, and the degree of validity is 0.
The degree of validity of a proposition with respect to a variable part is the
ratio of true propositions to all propositions resulting from the substitution.
Łukasiewicz compares his notion of truth‑value with that of validity in Bolz‑
ano and concludes that the concept of a variable and of an indefinite or open
proposition are absent from Bolzano’s writings. As Wolfgang Künne (2003a,
p. 183) has shown, though, there is a notion in Bolzano comparable to the
notion of indefinite sentence: what Bolzano calls “forms of propositions,”
such as “Some A are B”. 16 Łukasiewicz’ notion of indefinite sentence plays
a similar role in logic (Łukasiewicz 1913, p. 55). For Łukasiewicz, though,
probability is a non‑relative property of indefinite sentences, whereas for
Bolzano validity is a property of a complete proposition relative to certain
parts of it. Łukasiewicz claims that for him not all sentences are either true
or false, but this is only an apparent difference, for his notion of sentence
includes indefinite sentences. We may conclude that he still adheres to the
principle of bivalence for definite sentences in 1913.
15
Łukasiewicz (1913, p. 52, note). He refers to the central sections §147 and §161 of (Bolzano
1837). He also notes that his stay in Graz with Meinong in 1909 brought him to the topic of
probability. Cf. (Łukasiewicz 1913, p. 49).
16
So kann mann sagen, die Logik betrachet nur Formen von Sätzen, nicht aber einzelne Sätze
(Bolzano 1837, §12, p. 48). Properly speaking only the linguistic expression van be called
a form of a sentence, Bolzano adds.
17
Not all sentences can be translated to eternal sentences, as Peter Simons (2008, p. 8) has
noted. His position is of interest as he defends the absoluteness of truth, while upholding that
the truthbearer may contain essentially indexical elements.
it rained on the Castle Hill of Lwów on August 14, 2014, and the very same
judgement uttered on August 13, 2014, is now, on August 14, true, or false.
Although we speak about the same judgement, the point of evaluation has
changed, and this means that the judgement has now a definite truth‑value.
Michael Dummett has called the point of evaluation the time of assessment:
The relativization of truth‑value … to a time t should not, however, be taken as re‑
lating to the time at which the sentence is being uttered … but, rather, to the time
at which the truth‑value of the sentence is being assessed (Dummett 1981, p. 394).
We have to take into account (1) the time to which the sentence refers;
(2) the time of utterance; and, (3) the time of assessment.18 A relativization
of truth to the time of assessment, in distinction from the time of utterance,
is also defended by John MacFarlane (2003), where it is argued that if we
evaluate Jake’s assertion made yesterday that there would be a sea battle
today, Jake is able to meet the challenge today by pointing to ships fighting,
and we can thus say that his assertion is now correct, although it was not
correct (“neither true nor false”, in MacFalane’s words) yesterday. Some‑
times, we speak of a similar or “identical” judgement “It rains on the Cas‑
tle Hill on August 14, 2014”, while abstracting from the time of utterance.
Twardowski is willing to speak of an identical, abstract judgement indepen‑
dent of a specific time of utterance (see section 2 above). Even a nominalist
like Leśniewski is willing to speak of identical judgements or sentences in
a figurative sense (see below). On August 13, the judgement seems to be
neither true nor false, but from August 14 on, the very same judgement is
true, or false. On this account, the time of reference is constant, the time of
utterance is irrelevant, while the time of evaluation is at issue. Is the truth of
a judgement dependent on the time of evaluation? If so, the absoluteness of
truth cannot be defended. And, if some judgements are neither true nor false
at a certain moment of evaluation, the principle of bivalence, and a strong
version of the principle of excluded middle cannot be defended either, al‑
though one still can say that of two contradictory judgements, if one is false,
the other is true. One may think that truth is relative to time, because one
believes that determinism is false, as Łukasiewicz and Kotarbiński have
done, as we will see below; or, one may think that truth is relative to time,
because one defends an epistemic notion of truth. If there is no method to
determine whether a judgement is correct or incorrect, which seems to be
the case with some judgements about the future, the judgement is neither
correct nor incorrect. Sometimes, the arguments of the Polish logicians are
given in epistemic terms, but as they defend a correspondence theory of
truth in Twardowski’s sense, their main argument is not given in such terms.
18
Krystyna Misiuna (1998, p. 201) distinguishes a time datum from “a time of evaluation,”
but seems to identify the time of evaluation with the time of utterance.
It is clear that Łukasiewicz’ doubts about the logical principles and the
questions he had raised concerning the principle of excluded middle in the
lecture given in Lwów in 1910 must have been very stimulating for Kotar‑
biński, as he is the first to doubt the principle of bivalence and the strong
principle of excluded middle on the basis of a denial of determinism in
a paper published in 1913. Leśniewski immediately reacted to this paper,
arguing against Kotarbiński’s thesis, and Twardowski sides with Leśniews‑
ki, upholding the absoluteness of truth in a lecture course from 1913/1914.
I will focus here on the discussion around 1913, as much research has al‑
ready been done on later developments in Łukasiewicz’ writings. It may be
helpful, though, to understand Łukasiewicz’ later position. As Kotarbiński’s
paper is a first proposal, Łukasiewicz’ concepts are more developed; he
gives, for example, a clear definition of determinism. I will therefore start
with Łukasiewicz’ writings of a later date, in which a three‑valued logic is
developed, before I go back to the discussion around 1913, in which Ko‑
tarbiński, Leśniewski and Twardowski participated.
Jan Łukasiewicz
Łukasiewicz started to work on a three‑valued logic in the summer of 1917
(cf. (Łukasiewicz 1918, p. 86)), applying now the idea of a third value to
definite sentences. In addition to true and false sentences, there are possi‑
ble sentences. Besides being and non‑being, there is objective possibility,
symbolized by “½:”
Possible phenomena have no causes, although they themselves can be the beginning
of a causal sequence. An act of a creative individual can be free and at the same fact
affect the course of the world (idem).
The idea of a three‑valued logic is thus right from the beginning con‑
nected with the denial of determinism and the possibility of free, creative
actions, and thus connected to a metaphysical problem. Łukasiewicz’ view
on logic is not identical with that of Russell or Frege, in which the laws of
logic are the most universal laws of the world:
The possibility of constructing different logical systems shows that logic is not re‑
stricted to reproduction of facts but is a free product of man, like a work of art. Log‑
ical coercion vanishes at its very source (idem).
system that does not have such metaphysical consequences. And, Łukasiewicz
argues, a many‑valued logic does not imply the principle of determinism.
What is determinism according to Łukasiewicz? He explains determin‑
ism in terms of truth and time, but not in terms of necessity. Determinism
is true, precisely if it is the case that:
If A is b at instant t, it is true at t´, earlier than t, that A is b at instant t (cf. Łukasie‑
wicz 1961, p. 113). The time t´ is the point of assessment or evaluation (3, see p. 151,
above), while t is the time of reference (1).
If the law merely says that two contradictory sentences are not false together,
the possibility that determinism is false is not excluded, for if a sentence
about a future contingent is neither true nor false, then neither it nor its
negation is false. If the law also says that one of these sentences “must be
true,” as Łukasiewicz adds in the explanation, putting forward the stronger
version EMS, then the law implies that it is true now that John will be at
home tomorrow noon or it is true now that John will not be at home tomor‑
row noon. Apparently, Łukasiewicz presupposes that “John will not be at
home tomorrow noon” means the same as “It is not the case that John will
be at home tomorrow noon”. Using the general principle “If it is true at in‑
stant t that p, then p” (idem, p. 115), we can derive that either John will be
at home tomorrow noon, or that John will not be at home tomorrow noon.
Then, Łukasiewicz argues, we can derive by propositional logic the thesis
that if John will be at home tomorrow noon, then it is true at arbitrary instant
t – and thus also with t´ earlier than t, that John will be at home tomorrow
noon; the argument takes two pages, and will not be reproduced here (cf.
idem, pp. 116-117). If we generalise this argument we are thus able to derive
the principle of determinism mentioned above from the strong principle of
excluded middle.
The more famous argument Łukasiewicz gives against determinism is
based on the fact that one may doubt the principle of bivalence, and is in‑
spired by Aristotle’s famous passage in De interpretatione, chapter 9 (idem,
p. 125ff). The principle is not evident to Łukasiewicz, and it is possible
to give a logical system without the principle, he claims, in which a third
value is acknowledged: a sentence may be true, false, or neither true nor
false, that is, indeterminate. Sentences about future facts have no real cor‑
relate that would make them true or false. As their ontological correlate is
a possibility, they are indeterminate (idem, p. 126). The argument is well
known. What seems not to have been noted in the secondary literature is the
fact that Łukasiewicz extends the argument to sentences about the past. If
something that has happened in the past has no effects today, what has hap‑
pened in the past has turned into a mere possibility, and this sentence about
the past is neither true nor false, but is as indeterminate as a sentence about
a future contingent (idem, p. 128). If a sentence expressed today about an
event in the future or the past does not “correspond” to a cause or effect of
that event existing today, the sentence is neither true nor false. Łukasiewicz
thus assumes that a sentence is true not insofar as it corresponds to an event
existing in the past or future, but insofar as it corresponds with something
existing now. The sentence can only be made true by what happens now.
What exists, exists now. The future and the past can only exist insofar as
something exists now that determines what happens in the future, or is
determined by what has happened in the past. At the end of the paper, Łu‑
kasiewicz rejects what he seemed to endorse at the beginning, namely that
all truth is eternal: what was once true remains true for ever. He no longer
seems to believe “that if an object A is b at instant t, it is true at any instant
later than t that A is b at instant t” (idem, p. 113). His doubts concerning
the principle of bivalence thus go beyond the question of determinism and
future contingents.
Tadeusz Kotarbiński
There is no sign that Kotarbiński developed an alternative logical system, in
his paper “The Problem of the Existence of the Future” from 1913. It can be
shown, though, that he acknowledges a third ontological value besides being
and non‑being. And perhaps one can say that he acknowledged a third logical
value as well, although only in the sense that a judgement may be neither
true nor false (cf. (Woleński 1990b, p. 195)). Kotarbiński argues for the the‑
sis that not all judgements are true or false on the basis of the possibility of
free actions and creativity. As in Łukasiewicz’ talk from 1910, the question
is discussed in the context of the question whether all judgements about
the future are now already true, or false. Like Brentano and Twardowski,
Kotarbiński gives an existential account of judgement. A judgement is true
if and only if its object exists. “To exist” does not mean the same as “to be
present”, Kotarbiński adds. The object may be simple, but in most cases it
is an “objective”, that is, a relation of inherence, or what Twardowski has
called a “relationship”. Kotarbiński follows here Twardowski’s account of
judgement, while using Meinong’s terminology (Kotarbiński 1913, p. 10).
In the paper, Kotarbiński endorses the eternity of truth:
If a judgement is true at time t, then it is true at all times t´ later than t.19
As Kotarbiński puts it, “every truth is eternal but not since always” (p. 10).
A necessary condition for creativity, Kotarbiński argues, is that a judgement
about the object that is to be created is neither true nor false at any moment
before it is created. For, if the judgement about that object would be already
true before it is created, that future object would already exist before it is
created, and possess the properties to be created, which means that creation
were impossible (p. 14). This argument does not make use of the notion of
causation. It does make use, though, of the idea that if something is true, the
object(ive) about which the judgement is made exists. It may be said against
Kotarbiński that the existence of an objective does not causally determine
the truth of a judgement; truemaking is not a natural relation. If there exists
now an objective O that is the cause of an event in the future, the existence
of objective O is not the cause of the truth of the judgement about the fu‑
ture event (nor is the truth of that judgement a cause of the existence of O).
Kotarbiński seems to think that truths are “created” in this sense:
19
“Eternity” of truth is used by Kotarbiński and in this chapter as a technical term, in the
meaning of truth for ever. In natural language, “eternal” may mean timeless (“God is eternal”),
and omnitemporal (at all times), as well; these meanings of the term are here not involved.
Any judgement which will become true at a certain moment will be declared as true
precisely at that moment and its truth will be then created (Kotarbiński 1913, p. 10).
but it seems not to be the main argument for him. The thesis that not all
truth is true since eternity is, according to Kotarbiński, “a consequence of
cogitations that a certain sphere of future events cannot possibly be known
to us” (idem, p. 11).
20
Brentano considers the indeterminism hypothesis to be very improbable, and he does not
believe that ethics is in need of it; cf. (Brentano 1952, p. 279ff).
is true eternally and without a beginning, and this does not make free cre‑
ativity superfluous. It is of interest that Leśniewski combines a particularism
and nominalism with the idea that truth is absolute. If there is no identical
truthbearer through time, how can one say that a judgement is true eternally
and since always? In the paper on Kotarbiński, Leśniewski makes use of Ko‑
tarbiński’s “judgement” terminology, although for Leśniewski the sentence
is the proper bearer of truth and falsity. How can a particularist possibly
argue against Kotarbiński’s thesis that a judgement that is now true, once
was neither true nor false? For, that thesis assumes that one can speak of an
identical judgement through time. Even if we consider judgements with the
same meaning to be “one and the same,” a judgement “ceases to last at the
moment it is uttered for the last time” (p. 96). No true judgement is eternal
in this sense. The idea that a judgement is an omnitemporal truth means,
according to Leśniewski, that, if it is uttered by someone, it is always true
(idem, pp. 96-97). He is thus able to speak of identical judgements through
time, although this is not identity in any literal sense. Sentences intimating
the judgements we consider to be identical are not to contain any indexical
terms (pp. 98-99). As soon as indexical terms are substituted by expressions
whose semantic function is constant, we will obtain truths that are “eternally
true,” (p. 99). Instead of considering the sentence “Stanisław Leśniewski
will die” we consider the sentence “Stanisław Leśniewski possesses the
property of having ceased to be alive in the future of 2 p.m., March 2 nd,
1913,” and the judgement intimated will be always true (idem). Leśniewski
thus follows Twardowski’s argument that we have to consider judgements
intimated by sentences without indexicals in order to understand that truth
is absolute. We may now consider judgements to be identical precisely if
they can be intimated by the same eternal sentence.21
What is Leśniewski’s argument against Kotarbiński’s thesis that not every
truth is true without a beginning? As Kotarbiński endorses the principle of
contradiction and the weak principle of excluded middle, but not bivalence
or the strong principle of excluded middle, Leśniewski’s argument should
ideally use only the former principles. In the presentation of the argument
Leśniewski says that he applies the principle of contradiction, and men‑
tions no other principles (idem, p. 103). He gives a reductio ad absurdum,
assuming that some judgement “A is B” is a truth which had a beginning,
and that there was thus a time t in which “A is B” was not true, although it
is true now. He follows: “If at time t the judgement ‘A is B’ was not true,
then the judgement ‘A is not B’ was true” (idem, pp. 102-103). Apart from
the question whether “A is not B” is the contradictory of “A is B,” which is
21
Cf. (Betti (2006), section 4). Identity of sentences may also be understood in a figurative
sense, in which case we can consider equiform sentences to be “identical”, presupposing here
that we consider only eternal sentences, that is, sentences without indexical terms.
22
Woleński (1990b, p. 193) gives another explanation why Kotarbiński does not need accept
Leśniewski’s argument.
23
Izydora Dąmbska writes that the text “On Ethical Skepticism” is based on lectures delivered
in 1923‑24. She also writes that the text of the lecture mentioned above is only to be found
in a lecture series on the same topic from 1913‑1914. Twardowski’s remarks can therefore
be considered to be part of the Kotarbiński‑Leśniewski debate. Cf. (Twardowski 1913/1914,
p. 254, note).
of the future event follows from the truth of the corresponding judgement
(Twardowski 1913‑1914, p. 253). The second thesis would mean that if the
judgement is true, the event must happen. Against (1), Twardowski argues
that he sees no reason to assume that the future event has to be necessary in
order for the judgement to be true; the fact that the event will take place can
be understood as a sufficient condition for the truth of the judgement. One
need not accept the stronger thesis expressed in (1). Regarding the second
interpretation, Twardowski admits that if the judgement about the future
event is true, the event must happen.
However, ‘must’ in question does not mean that a future event is causally determined.
Similarly, in this case it also suffices to say that if a judgement on the existence of
a future event is true, the event will happen. This ‘must’ concerns logical necessity,
i.e. the fact of whether a judgement ‘An event will take place’ is true, or not, depends
on whether the judgement ‘There is a future event’ is true or not. This mistake results
from confusing two things: on the one hand, the possibility of judging in the present
whether given judgements are true or false with, on the other hand, the actual truth‑
fulness or falsity of the judgements (idem, p. 254).
Conclusion
truth and falsity, and the meaning of a sentence can be explained in terms
of the judgement product. The latter notion is essentially the result of an act
of judging, and thereby brings in the notion of judging agent. Twardowski
is thus able to argue for a less subjectivist semantics, in which the mental
act has not completely disappeared. Precisely because products are the re‑
sult of actions, Twardowski’s account of the bearer of truth and falsity is
unique and of interest, although there is a tension between his idea that the
bearers of truth and falsity are products of mental acts, and his thesis that
truth is timeless and absolute.
Twardowski’s scientific attitude towards metaphysics, semantics and
philosophy in general, and his fascination for the absoluteness of truth
has had a decisive influence on his students, reaching beyond his direct
students to Alfred Tarski. The topics of semantics, truth and the correspon‑
dence definition of truth led to the question what the bearer of truth and
falsity is. The Lvov‑Warsaw School understands the bearers of truth and
falsity to be sentences rather than propositions outside space and time. As
the sentence is always interpreted, the nominalism of Twardowski’s school
is to be distinguished from a purely formalistic approach. It has rather its
origin in Brentano’s particularist ontology, and in Twardowski’s thesis that
the bearer of truth and falsity is the judgement product, a created entity. Ac‑
cording to Twardowski, the correspondence theory of truth and the absolute
notion of truth imply the validity of the logical principles of contradiction
and excluded middle. His students took the liberty to doubt the validity of
some variants of these principles without questioning the correspondence
definition of truth. Eventually this meant that some of Twardowski’s students
did not defend the absoluteness of truth, while others scorned his psycho‑
logical approach to the bearer of truth and falsehood and to semantics. It is
especially the discussion around truth and time that shows that Twardowski
must have stimulated his students to develop a philosophy, in which they
dared to question the logical principles. In this open intellectual attitude
Twardowski seems to have learnt more from Bolzano than from Brentano.
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