Merely verbal disputes in philosophy

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1

Luka
Yovetich

Dissertation
–
MERELY
VERBAL
DISPUTES
IN
PHILOSOPHY

University
of
Southern
California

A
Dissertation
Presented
to
the

FACULTY
OF
THE
USC
GRADUATE
SCHOOL

UNIVERSITY
OF
SOUTHERN
CALIFORNIA

In
Partial
Fulfillment
of
the

Requirements
for
the
Degree

DOCTOR
OF
PHILOSOPHY

(PHILOSOPHY)

May
2013

Copyright
2013

Luka
Yovetich

2

DEDICATION
-‐

This
dissertation
is
dedicated
to
my
mother,
Diana,
my
father,
Gene,
and
my

sister,
Wallace.

3

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
–

This
dissertation
could
not
have
been
written
without
help.
I
am
deeply
grateful

to
the
philosophers
on
my
final
committee,
James
Van
Cleve
and
Janet
Levin,
for

their
willingness
to
work
with
me
and
help
me
get
to
the
point
of
being
able
to

finish
this
project.
Without
their
useful
feedback
and
extraordinary
patience
this

dissertation
would
not
have
been
completed.
Their
kindness
and
generosity
is

greatly
appreciated.
I
consider
myself
very
lucky
to
have
been
able
to
work
with

them.

And
thanks
to
Scott
Paterson
for
serving
as
the
external
member
on
my

committee.

I
would
also
like
to
thank
Mark
Schroeder
for
working
with
me
during
the

early
and
middle
stages
of
this
project.
Mark
is
a
caring
graduate
advisor
and
a

deeply
committed
professor.
My
conversations
with
him
played
an
enormous

role
in
making
this
dissertation
possible.
I
am
thankful
for
his
patience
and
his

willingness
to
talk
with
me
whenever
I
was
ready
to
make
the
next
small
step
in

the
dissertation
writing
process.

I
would
also
like
to
thank
Scott
Soames
for
working
with
me
in
the
earlier

stages
of
the
project.
The
chapter
on
Carnap
would
not
exist
were
it
not
for
him.

It
provides
the
main
bit
of
historical
context
to
the
dissertation.

Thanks
also
are
due
to
David
Manley
who
helped
me
identify
the
topic
as

one
that
I
wanted
to
write
about.
I
came
into
David’s
office
with
a
vague
idea
of

what
I
was
interested
in
writing
about
and
walked
out
with
an
actual
topic.

Thanks
also
to
Mark
Balaguer
for
being
so
willing
to
talk
with
me
about

merely
verbal
disputes
and
his
views
about
them.
Mark
was
my
advisor
at
Cal

4

State
LA
and
a
major
influence
in
my
philosophical
development.
His
attraction
to

deflationary
views
and
his
persuasive
way
of
talking
about
them
is
part
of
what

drew
me
to
my
own
view
on
this
topic.

I
would
also
like
to
thank
my
fellow
grad
students
at
USC
for
the
many

discussions
about
merely
verbal
disputes.
Mostly,
I
would
like
to
thank
Lewis

Powell,
Sam
Shpall,
Nate
Gadd,
and
Shyam
Nair
for
providing
me
with
useful

feedback
at
various
points
in
the
process
of
writing
this
dissertation.
But
I

benefited
greatly
from
the
grad
students
in
general
who
were
in
the
department

during
my
time
there.

Finally,
it
should
be
made
clear
that
the
mistakes
in
this
document
are

mine.
The
things
that
are
correct,
insofar
as
there
are
any,
would
not
be
here

without
those
named
above
and
others.

5

TABLE
OF
CONTENTS
–

DEDICATION

p.
2

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

p.
3

CHAPTER
1

p.
8

CHAPTER
2

p.
21

CHAPTER
3

p.
56

CHAPTER
4

p.
77

CHAPTER
5

p.
100

BIBLIOGRAPHY

p.
128

6

ABSTRACT
–

The
purpose
of
my
dissertation
is
to
explore
the
nature
of
merely
verbal
disputes

in
general
and,
more
importantly,
how
they
occur
in
philosophy.
I
will
discuss
the

general
idea
of
what
it
means
for
a
dispute
to
be
merely
verbal.
Intuitively,
a

dispute
is
merely
verbal
when
the
disputants
use
some
term
or
terms
in
their

dispute
differently
and
the
difference
in
usage
is
what
accounts
for
the
dispute.
In

such
a
case,
we
often
feel
confortable
saying
that
the
disputants
do
not
really

disagree.
They
only
seem
to
disagree.

An
easy
illustrative
example
is
one
of
two
British
and
American
children

involved
in
a
dispute
over
whether
a
football
is
round
or
not.
The
Brit
says
that

footballs
are
round.
The
American
says
that
they
are
not.
But
the
Brit
is
talking

about
soccer
and
the
American
is
talking
about
American
football.
They
just
do

not
realize
that
this
is
what
is
happening
and,
so,
they
take
themselves
to
be

engaged
in
a
substantive
dispute.
It
seems
to
some
philosophers
(as
well
as

myself)
that
there
are
some
philosophical
disputes
that
are
like
this
in
a
relevant

way.
However,
characterizing
what
it
is
for
a
dispute
to
be
merely
verbal
is
more

difficult
than
one
might
first
assume.
If
some
philosophical
disputes
are
merely

verbal,
then
they
are
not
as
easy
to
spot
as
the
dispute
about
football
described

above.
They
are
subtler,
in
some
important
way.
Recently,
some
philosophers

have
attempted
to
come
up
with
characterizations
of
merely
verbal
disputes
that

capture
these
less
easy
to
identify
merely
verbal
disputes.
Part
of
this
project

involves
a
discussion
of
current
attempts
(by
Hirsch,
Manley,
Chalmers,
and

others)
in
the
literature
to
characterize
merely
verbal
disputes.

7

I
then
consider
two
fundamentally
different
sorts
of
philosophical

disputes,
ontological
and
non-‐ontological.
Ontological
disputes
(disputes
about

mereology,
for
instance)
are
commonly
thought
to
be
candidates
for
being
merely

verbal.
Many
philosophers
are
doubtful
of
their
status
as
substantive
disputes.

Hirsch,
in
particular,
argues
for
the
conclusion
that
they
are
merely
verbal.
I

consider
arguments
by
Eklund
and
Balaguer
against
the
Hirschian
view.
I

disagree
with
Eklund
and
come
to
a
more
mixed
conclusion
with
respect
to

Balaguer’s
argument.

Lastly,
while
focusing
on
non-‐ontological
disputes,
I
identify
what
I
call
I-‐
disputes
and
S-‐disputes,
focusing
more
heavily
on
the
latter.
I-‐disputes
involve

disputes
over
judgments
of
cases.
S-‐disputes
involve
disputes
over
necessary
or

sufficient
conditions
for
the
proper
application
of
some
term.
I
conclude
the

project
by
arguing
that
S-‐disputes
are
merely
verbal.

8

CHAPTER
1
–

1.
INTRODUCTION

In
this
project
I
will
discuss
the
issue
of
merely
verbal
disputes.
I
am
going
to

attempt
to
figure
out
what
they
are,
and
I
am
going
to
discuss
the
question
of

whether
any
important
philosophical
disputes
are
merely
verbal.
It
has
been

famously
argued
by
Eli
Hirsch
1

that
certain
ontological
disputes
are
merely

verbal.
He
is
not
alone
in
the
philosophical
community
in
suspecting
that

ontological
disputes
are
merely
verbal.
I
will
argue
that
Hirsch
is
wrong
about

this
and
that
such
disputes
are
not
merely
verbal.
However,
I
will
also
argue
that

philosophical
disputes
of
another
kind
are
merely
verbal—namely,
conceptual

analysis
disputes
(for
example:
disputes
over
questions
like
‘What
is

knowledge?’,

‘What
is
free
will?’,
and
so
on).

Let
me
quickly
say
what
a
merely
verbal
debate
is.
In
chapter
2,
I
will

discuss
various
views
about
what
it
is
for
a
dispute
to
be
merely
verbal,
but
in
the

meantime,
it
will
be
useful
to
have
a
working
definition
of
‘merely
verbal
dispute’.

The
description
‘merely
verbal’
gives
the
reader
a
fairly
good
sense
of
what
we

are
talking
about.
As
a
gloss,
let’s
take
merely
verbal
disputes
to
be
disputes
in

which
people
are
talking
past
each
other
and
not
actually
disagreeing.
More

specifically,
a
merely
verbal
dispute
is
one
in
which
the
disputants
mean
different

things
by
their
words
(in
some
sense
of
‘mean’
–
I’ll
discuss
this
in
more
detail
in

chapter
2)
and
this
is
what
is
generating
the
dispute.

1

Hirsch
(2011)

9

Consider
an
obvious
example
of
a
merely
verbal
dispute.
Rebecca
and

Jonas
are
arguing
over
whether
or
not
there
is
a
bank
around
the
corner
from

where
they
are
standing.
Rebecca
means
to
be
talking
about
a
riverbank
and

Jonas,
unaware
that
there
is
even
that
sense
of
the
term
‘bank’,
means
to
be

talking
about
a
financial
institution.
There
is
clearly
a
riverbank
around
the

corner
from
where
they
are
standing,
and
Rebecca
and
Jonas
both
believe
this.

There
is
clearly
not
a
financial
institution
around
the
corner
from
where
they
are

standing,
and
once
again,
both
Rebecca
and
Jonas
believe
this.
Rebecca
is
correct

in
her
claim
that
there
is
a
riverbank
around
the
corner.
Jonas
is
correct
in
his

claim
that
there
is
not
a
financial
institution
around
the
corner.
The
claims
that

the
two
of
them
make
are
not
contradictory,
and
in
fact,
they
both
are
correct.

There
is
no
real
disagreement
between
Rebecca
and
Jonas,
only
an
apparent

disagreement.

This
is
a
merely
verbal
dispute
because
there
is
an
obvious
sense
in
which

Rebecca
and
Jonas
mean
different
things
by
their
uses
of
the
term
‘bank’
and
that

is
what
is
causing
them
to
engage
in
a
dispute.

It
is
important
to
avoid
engaging
in
merely
verbal
disputes
insofar
as
we

can.
Merely
verbal
disputes
are
seen
as
a
waste
of
time.
When
people
find
out

that
they
have
been
engaged
in
one
they
tend
to
be
motivated
to
drop
the
dispute

(unless
they
are
irrationally
attached
to
it
for
some
reason).
When
we
decide
to

put
time
and
energy
into
a
dispute
it
is
because
we
think
that
some
sort
of

progress
is
possible
with
respect
to
that
dispute.
We
think
that
it
is
important
to

either
change
the
mind
of
the
other
disputant(s)
or
we
think
that
it
is
important

10

to
give
the
other
disputant(s)
an
opportunity
to
change
our
minds.
But
when
we

find
out
that
a
dispute
we’re
engaged
in
is
merely
verbal,
all
of
this
falls
away.

In

short,
it
seems
like
a
waste
of
time
to
engage
in
merely
verbal
disputes.

This
brings
up
the
question
as
to
whether
or
not
any
philosophical

disputes
are
merely
verbal.
If
there
are
any
philosophical
disputes
that
are

merely
verbal,
it
seems
that
philosophers
should
stop
engaging
in
them.
(This
is

not
to
say
that
there
is
not
a
nearby
dispute
that
such
philosophers
might
be

justifiably
motivated
in
taking
up,
just
that
the
exact
dispute
that
they
were

focused
on
is
not
worthwhile
-‐
according
to
their
own
judgment.)
So
it
seems

important
to
determine
whether
any
philosophical
disputes
are
merely
verbal.

Insofar
as
philosophical
progress
is
a
goal
of
philosophers,
and
insofar
as

engaging
in
a
merely
verbal
dispute
is
contrary
to
that
goal,
philosophers
should

be
motivated
to
avoid
engaging
in
them.

And
in
fact,
identifying
a
philosophical

dispute
as
merely
verbal
can
be
seen
as
a
kind
of
philosophical
progress
in
its

own
right.

For
in
doing
this,
we
would
be
getting
clearer
about
what
we
are

talking
about
in
the
relevant
dispute.

Let
me
give
an
example
of
what
I
am
talking
about.
Consider
a
dispute

between
mereological
universalists
2

and
advocates
of
common
sense
3
.

Mereological
universalists
think
that
for
any
two
objects
(for
example,
my

computer
and
my
table),
there
is
another
object
that
is
the
mereological
sum
of

those
two
objects.
Advocates
of
common
sense,
on
the
other
hand,
think
that

there
are
just
the
two
objects
and
no
mereological
sum.
Hirsch
thinks
that
this

2

Van
Cleve
(1986)

3

Hirsch
(2011)

11

dispute
is
merely
verbal.
If
this
were
right,
then
it
would
be
important
to
stop

having
this
dispute.
If
each
side
is
correct
and
neither
side
is
wrong,
then
it
seems

that
progress
on
this
dispute
is
impossible.
And
so
there
would
be
no
point
in

continuing
the
dispute.

2.
SUMMARY
OF
PROJECT

I
will
now
provide
a
quick
summary
of
the
entire
project
to
give
the
reader
a

sense
of
what
is
to
come.
Not
counting
this
first
chapter,
there
are
four
chapters

in
the
thesis.
Let
me
start
with
chapter
2.

The
purpose
of
chapter
2
is
to
bring
to
the
attention
of
the
reader
the
kind

dispute
that
I’m
calling
merely
verbal.

In
the
first
part
of
chapter
2,
I
run
through

four
pairs
of
examples
of
disputes.
In
each
pair,
the
two
disputes
will
be
on
the

same
general
topic.
But
one
of
them
will
be
a
clearly
substantive
dispute,
and
the

other
will
be
a
dispute
that
is
arguably
merely
verbal.
In
the
first
pair,
the
alleged

merely
verbal
dispute
will
be
generated
by
the
use
of
an
ambiguous
term;
in
the

second,
it
will
be
generated
by
the
misuse
of
a
name;
in
the
third,
the
dispute
will

involve
a
disagreement
about
how
to
use
a
certain
ordinary-‐language
term;
and

the
fourth
will
be
an
instance
of
a
seemingly
intractable
philosophical
dispute,

namely,
the
dispute
over
the
existence
of
mereological
sums.
In
all
but
the
first

case,
the
claim
that
the
alleged
merely
verbal
dispute
is
indeed
merely
verbal
is

controversial.
And
the
degree
of
controversy
goes
up
as
we
go
through
the
list.
In

the
fourth
case,
the
claim
that
it
is
merely
verbal
is
extremely
controversial,
and,

in
fact,
I
will
end
up
endorsing
the
view
that
it
is
not
merely
verbal.

12

The
purpose
of
this
section
is
to
draw
out
the
similarity
between
the

alleged
merely
verbal
disputes.
The
idea
is
that
if
the
reader
agrees
that
the
first

alleged
merely
verbal
dispute
is
in
fact
merely
verbal,
then
she
will
be
more
likely

to
view
the
others
as
merely
verbal
as
well.
So,
the
goal
is
to
make
more
plausible

the
idea
that
certain
seemingly
substantive
disputes
of
the
kind
that
people
really

engage
in
are
actually
merely
verbal.

In
the
second
part
of
chapter
2,
I
will
discuss
some
of
the
views
in
the

philosophical
literature
about
what
it
takes
for
a
dispute
to
count
as
merely

verbal.
I
will
consider
views
from
Ted
Sider,
David
Chalmers,
Carrie
Jenkins,
Eli

Hirsch,
and
David
Manley.
4

I
will
argue
that
Hirsch
and
Manley
come
up
with
the

best
view
(Manley’s
view
is
merely
a
modification
of
Hirsch’s
view).
I
will
discuss

all
of
these
views
in
detail
in
chapter
2,
but
briefly,
according
to
the
Hirsch

Manley
view,
a
dispute
is
merely
verbal
when
the
dispute
is
about
the
truth
value

of
a
certain
sentence
‘S’
(person
A
asserts
‘S’,
and
person
B
asserts
‘not
S’),
and

the
proposition
that
B
expresses
with
‘not
S’
does
not
contradict
the
proposition

that
A
expresses
with
‘S’.
This
isn’t
quite
right,
since
Hirsch
and
Manley
don’t

focus
on
the
proposition
expressed
in
the
given
public
language;
rather,
they

focus
on
the
proposition
that
is
expressed
in
something
like
the
private
language

of
the
given
disputant,
although
neither
uses
the
term
‘private
language’.

More

specifically,
Hirsch
asks
us
to
focus
on
propositions
expressed
in
the
language

that
would
be
spoken
by
a
community
of
people
who
were
just
like
the
speaker

with
respect
to
their
usage
and
dispositions
to
use
terms.
In
Manley’s
case,
he

4

See
Sider
(2004)
and
(2006),
Chalmers
(2011),
Jenkins
(forthcoming),
Hirsch

(2011),
and
Manley
(2009).

13

asks
us
to
focus
on
the
proposition
expressed
by
the
sentence
when
the
speaker

is
treated
as
the
semantic
supervenience
base
of
the
relevant
language.
For
my

purposes,
the
difference
between
the
Hirsch
view
and
the
Manley
view
are
not

important.
So
I
end
up
endorsing
what
I
call
the
Hirsch/Manley
view.
In
other

words,
I
endorse
the
parts
of
the
two
views
that
are
the
same,
and
where
they
are

different,
I
don’t
take
a
stand
on
which
one
is
correct.

In
chapter
3,
I
compare
the
views
of
Hirsch
and
Carnap.
Hirsch
is
the

leading
proponent
of
the
view
that
various
important
philosophical
disputes
are

merely
verbal,
so
in
this
historical
chapter,
it
makes
sense
to
concentrate
on

Hirsch’s
view.

The
purpose
of
this
chapter
is
to
give
the
contemporary
view
of

merely
verbal
disputes
a
historical
context.
I
do
that
by
comparing
and

contrasting
Hirsch’s
view
that
certain
philosophical
disputes
are
merely
verbal

with
Carnap’s
view
that
metaphysical
disputes
are
pseudo-‐disputes.
Some
people

think
that
the
views
are
similar,
and
they
are
in
certain
ways.
One
way
to

interpret
Hirsch
is
as
saying
that
certain
metaphysical
disputes
are
pseudo-‐
disputes.
So
obviously,
there
are
deep
similarities
between
the
two
views.

However,
after
clearly
laying
out
the
two
views,
I
argue
that
there
are
important

differences.
For
example,
Hirsch
doesn’t
think
that
all
metaphysical
disputes
are

merely
verbal;
he
just
thinks
some
of
them
are.

Another
difference
is
that
Hirsch

thinks
there
can
be
a
correct
answer
to
the
questions
around
which
these

disputes
revolve.
These
answers
are
determined
by
facts
about
the
public

language
in
which
the
participants
in
the
dispute
are
speaking.
In
contrast,

Carnap’s
pseudo-‐disputes
involve
meaningless
questions
with
no
real
answers.

14

Chapter
4
focuses
on
ontological
disputes
and
the
issue
of
whether
or
not

they
are
merely
verbal.
The
main
example
I
use
is
a
version
of
the
dispute
about

material
constitution
(in
other
words,
the
dispute
between
one-‐thingers
and
two-‐
thingers).
I
also
discuss
the
dispute
between
presentists
and
eternalists
over
the

existence
of
non-‐present
objects.
But
the
discussion
is
meant
to
apply
to

ontological
disputes
in
general.

I
start
by
rehearsing
Hirsch’s
argument
for
the
claim
that
ontological

disputes
like
the
above
are
merely
verbal.
Briefly,
Hirsch’s
argument
is
that
the

participants
in
onotological
disputes
are
speaking
different
languages,
and
their

sentences
come
out
true
in
their
own
languages,
and
they
are
not
really

disagreeing
about
any
factual
claims.

But
most
of
the
chapter
is
concerned
with
discussing
attacks
on
Hirsch’s

mere
verbalism
about
ontological
disputes.
I
discuss
three
arguments
here.
The

first
two
are
given
by
Matti
Eklund,
and
the
third
one
is
given
by
Mark
Balaguer.

Let
me
start
with
the
two
Eklund
arguments.
He
calls
these
arguments
the

semantic
argument
and
the
propositional
argument.
But
for
our
purposes
here,

these
two
arguments
are
similar
enough
that
they
can
be
treated
together.
The

basic
idea
is
as
follows.

Assume
that
Hirsch’s
analysis
of
the
participants
in

ontological
disputes
is
right.
In
other
words,
assume
that
each
participant
speaks

her
own
language;
the
participant
with
the
more
inclusive
ontology
speaks
a

language
in
which
sentence
asserting
the
truth
of
the
more
inclusive
ontology
are

actually
true;
and
the
participant
with
the
less
inclusive
ontology
speaks
a

language
in
which
sentence
asserting
the
truth
of
the
less
inclusive
ontology
are

15

actually
true.
But
if
this
view
of
the
more
inclusive
ontologist
is
correct—in
other

words,
if
the
sentences
of
the
more
inclusive
ontologist
are
true
in
her
own

language—then
the
objects
that
the
more
inclusive
ontologist
believes
in
must

exist.
But
then
the
more
inclusive
ontology
is
correct.
So
Eklund’s
argument
is

that
if
Hirsch’s
analysis
of
the
situation
is
correct,
then
the
right
conclusion
isn’t

mere
verbalism;
rather,
it’s
that
the
more
inclusive
ontology
is
the
right
ontology.

After
laying
out
Eklund’s
two
arguments,
I
give
Hirsch’s
response.
I
argue

that
his
response
is
unsatisfactory
and
that
Eklund’s
argument
successfully

refutes
Hirsch’s
particular
version
of
mere
verbalism.
But
I
also
argue
that
mere

verbalists
can
endorse
a
different
view
(distinct
from
Hirsch’s
version
of
mere

verbalism)
and
that
if
they
do
this,
they
can
successfully
respond
to
Eklund’s

argument.

In
the
next
section
of
the
chapter,
I
discuss
Balaguer’s
argument
against

the
view
that
ontological
disputes
are
merely
verbal.
Balaguer
introduces
a

matrix
of
types
of
views
in
order
to
more
clearly
assess
the
issue.
Roughly

speaking,
the
matrix
includes
four
different
types
of
view
that
vary
along
two

dimensions,
semantics
and
ontology.
More
specifically,
he
argues
that
in
any

given
ontological
debate,
theorists
can
endorse
either
a
more
inclusive
or
a
less

inclusive
ontology;
and
they
can
endorse
either
a
thick
or
a
thin
semantics.
A

thick
semantics
is
one
that
holds
that
in
order
for
the
relevant
sentences
to
be

true,
the
more
inclusive
ontology
must
be
true;
and
a
thin
semantics
is
one
that

holds
that
in
order
for
the
relevant
sentences
to
be
true,
the
more
inclusive

ontology
doesn’t
need
to
be
true.
Balaguer
then
argues
that
for
any
ontological

16

dispute,
there
is
a
substantive
version
of
the
dispute
and
a
merely
verbal
version

of
the
dispute.
In
the
merely
verbal
version
of
the
dispute,
the
person
who

endorses
the
less
inclusive
ontology
and
the
thick
semantics
is
having
a
dispute

with
the
person
who
endorses
the
less
inclusive
ontology
and
the
thin
semantics.

And
in
the
substantive
version
of
the
dispute,
the
person
who
endorses
the
more

inclusive
ontology
and
the
thick
semantics
is
having
a
dispute
with
the
person

who
endorses
the
less
inclusive
ontology
and
the
thick
semantics.
So
while
any

given
ontological
dispute
between
two
actual
philosophers
could
end
up
being

merely
verbal,
there
is
always
a
substantive
dispute
to
be
had
about
the
given

issue.
So
strong
versions
of
mere
verbalism
about
ontological
disputes
are
false.

(By
a
strong
version
of
mere
verbalism,
I
mean
the
view
that
there
is
no

substantive
dispute
to
be
had
about
the
given
issue.)

I
find
Balaguer’s
argument
convincing,
and
so
I
conclude
that
strong
mere

verbalism
about
ontological
disputes
is
false.

The
main
focus
of
chapter
5
is
my
argument
for
the
view
that

philosophical
disputes
of
a
certain
kind
are
merely
verbal.
I
start
off
by
making
a

distinction
between
what
I
call
I-‐disputes
and
S-‐disputes.
Briefly,
an
I-‐dispute
is
a

dispute
over
a
case
that
is
generated
by
a
difference
in
intuition
about
whether

some
term
applies
to
a
given
object.
An
example
of
an
I-‐dispute
might
be
as

follows.
Jack
and
Alice
disagree
over
a
philosophical
case
they
are
considering.

The
case
is
a
Gettier
case
in
which
an
agent,
Ralph,
has
some
justified
true
belief

that
to
many
does
not
seem
like
knowledge.
Jack
agrees
that
Ralph
does
not
have

knowledge.
Alice
thinks
Ralph
does
have
knowledge.
This
is
an
I-‐dispute.

17

An
S-‐dispute,
on
the
other
hand,
is
just
an
ordinary
conceptual
analysis

dispute.
In
other
words,
it
is
a
dispute
that
involves
an
analysis,
or
partial

analysis,
of
some
term
or
concept.
For
example,
if
Jack
and
Alice
are
arguing

about
what
knowledge
is—for
example,
if
Alice
thinks
that
justified
true
belief
is

sufficient
for
knowledge,
and
Jack
thinks
that
justified
true
belief
is
not
sufficient

for
knowledge—then
they
are
having
an
S-‐dispute.

I
argue
in
chapter
5
that
philosophical
I-‐disputes
of
a
certain
kind
are

merely
verbal.
Roughly,
the
I-‐disputes
in
question
are
those
that
I
just
mentioned

in
discussing
Balaguer’s
matrix.
More
specifically,
consider
a
debate
between
a

person
who
endorses
a
less
inclusive
ontology
and
thick
semantics
and
a
person

who
endorse
a
less
inclusive
ontology
and
a
thin
semantics.
If
these
two
people

get
into
a
dispute
about
whether
some
object
has
the
relevant
trait,
it
will
be
a

merely
verbal
dispute.
For
example,
consider
a
dispute
between
a
Humean

compatibilist
about
free
will
and
a
hard
determinist.
The
compatibilist
says
that

free
will
and
determinism
are
compatible.
And
the
hard
determinist
says
that

they
are
not
and
that
determinism
is
true.
If
they
get
into
a
dispute
about
whether

some
deterministic
agent
(who
is
clearly
free
in
Hume’s
sense)
has
free
will,
the

dispute
will
be
merely
verbal.

So
one
conclusion
of
chapter
5
is
that
I-‐disputes
like
this
are
merely

verbal.
But
the
much
more
important
claim
that
I
argue
for
in
chapter
5
is
that
S-‐
disputes
are
merely
verbal.
I
give
multiple
arguments
for
this
conclusion.
But
the

general
idea
is
that
S-‐disputes
approximate
arguments
about
semantics,
given

fundamentally
different
ways
that
the
disputants
use
the
relevant
terms.
I

18

contend
that
in
most
philosophical
settings
in
which
people
are
having
S-‐
disputes,
the
disputants
do
not
take
themselves
to
just
be
doing
semantics.
So
in

these
cases,
they
end
up
using
the
terms
in
fundamentally
different
ways,
while

doing
conceptual
analysis.
And
because
of
this,
I
argue,
the
disputes
are
merely

verbal

3.
EXTERNALISTIC
ASSUMPTIONS

Before
concluding
this
chapter,
I
want
to
make
clear
an
assumption,
or
a
set
of

assumptions,
that
I
will
be
making.
I
will
be
making
them
because
it
seems
that

insofar
as
an
account
of
merely
verbal
disputes
is
consistent
with
them,
it
will
be

less
vulnerable
to
attack.
These
assumptions
are
relevant
to
the
whole
project,

but
they
are
most
important
to
chapter
2.
The
assumptions
are
externalistic

assumptions,
and
they
have
to
do
with
certain
semantic
facts.
A
large
portion
of

the
philosophical
community
thinks
they
are
true
or
is
sympathetic
to
them.

Moreover,
insofar
as
a
characterization
of
merely
verbal
disputes
is
consistent

with
the
externalistic
assumptions,
they
will
also
be
consistent
with
internalistic

assumptions.
At
any
rate,
the
basic
assumption
is
that
the
semantic
content
of

terms
and
sentences
in
some
language
is
at
least
partially
determined
by
factors

other
than
the
usage
and
intentions
of
the
speakers
in
the
linguistic
community.

This
view
can
be
motivated
by
considering
Putnam’s
Twin
Earth
scenario
5

in

which
two
planets,
Earth
and
Twin
Earth,
are
superficially
identical
except
for
the

microscopic
nature
of
the
liquid
that
makes
up
rivers,
oceans,
etc.
On
Earth
this

liquid
is
H20
and
on
Twin
Earth
it
is
XYZ.
But
in
both
places
the
term
‘water’
is

5

Putnam
(1973)

19

used
to
pick
the
stuff
out.
Given
the
common
non-‐descriptivist
assumption
that

the
semantic
content
of
the
term
‘water’
(that
which
the
term
contributes
to

propositions
expressed
by
sentences
to
which
it
belongs)
is
its
molecular

makeup,
the
term
‘water’
has
different
semantic
content
in
the
different
places.

But
the
people
who
live
on
each
of
these
planets
have
the
same

phenomenological
experience
of
their
home
and
what
they
call
‘water’
as
the

people
who
live
on
the
other
planet,
even
though
they
mean
different
things
by

the
term.

Social
factors
can
also
have
a
similar
effect
on
the
relationship
between
an

individual
speaker
and
the
meaning
of
terms
in
her
language.
For
instance,
the

term
‘lion’
refers
to
the
animal
that
English
speakers
use
it
to
refer
to.
Lions
are
in

the
cat
family
and
they
have
manes
and
are
known
as
the
king
of
the
jungle.
But

we
can
imagine
a
person
who
mislearned
the
term
‘lion’
and
actually
uses
it
to

refer
to
tigers.
It
seems
fairly
easy
to
generate
the
intuition
that
the
person
who

uses
the
sentence
‘lions
do
not
have
manes’
to
speak
about
tigers
is
unsuccessfully

trying
to
speak
about
tigers.
In
fact,
such
a
speaker
is
only
succeeding
at
making
a

false
claim
about
lions,
given
what
the
sentence
means
in
the
language
of
the

community.

These
assumptions,
that
a
speaker’s
environment
(social
and
non-‐social)

can
affect
the
meanings
of
the
terms
that
the
speaker
utters
are,
again,
popular
to

some
degree
or
another.
This
means
that
any
theory
of
merely
verbal
disputes

that
is
not
consistent
with
them
might
be
vulnerable
to
attack
from
externalists.

Internalists
can
more
easily
allow
for
speakers
to
mean
different
things
by

20

disputes
sentences,
since
they
do
not
take
environment
(social
and
non-‐social)
to

be
as
determining
of
the
meaning
of
terms
as
externalists.

21

CHAPTER
2
–

1.
INTRODUCTION

The
focus
of
this
chapter
is
characterizations
of
merely
verbal
disputes
that
have

been
offered
recently
by
philosophers.
I
will
discuss
them
and
see
which
one(s)

are
best,
given
certain
externalist
views
about
semantics
that
I
would
like
to

assume.
I
will
consider
two
groups
of
views.
The
first
group
has
views
(those
of

David
Chalmers,
Carrie
Jenkins,
and
Ted
Sider)
that
do
not
take
a
sufficiently

externalistic
view
of
the
semantic
content
or
belief
content.
The
second
group,

the
views
of
Eli
Hirsch
and
David
Manley
are
those
that
I
consider
to
be
closest
to

optimally
consistent
with
the
view
that
factors
external
to
the
speaker
can
have

great
influence
on
what
he
says
and,
so,
what
he
thinks.
The
latter
pair
of
views
is

quite
similar
and
will
contrast
most
noticeably
with
that
of
Sider.
Hirsch
and

Sider
have
something
of
a
discussion
going
in
the
literature
about
merely
verbal

disputes
in
metaphysics.
It
is
useful,
I
think,
to
focus
on
their
responses
to
each

other
and
what
the
state
of
the
discussion
is
at
this
point.
I
am
including
Manley’s

view
with
Hirsch’s
because
I
believe
it
is
a
modification
of
Hirsch’s
view
that
is
an

improvement,
and
it
gets
us
closer
to
the
right
characterization
of
merely
verbal

disputes.
Finally,
I
will
suggest
a
modification
of
the
Hirsch/Manley
style
view

that,
I
believe,
allows
it
to
avoid
Sider’s
main
objection.

2.
PAIRS
OF
SUBSTANTIVE
AND
(POSSIBLE)
MERELY
VERBAL
DISPUTES

To
get
the
reader
in
the
right
frame
of
mind,
I
would
like
to
consider
four
pairs
of

examples
before
discussing
the
views
mentioned
above.
There
is
an
intuitive

difference
between
the
members
of
each
pair.
I
begin
with
a
pair
of
cases
that
are

22

clearly
and
obviously
different.
And
I
work
my
way
down
to
cases
that
I
believe

to
be
clearly
different,
yet
a
bit
subtler.
What
makes
a
case
subtler
is
that
it
is

more
difficult
to
detect
and
more
difficult
to
articulate
exactly
how
it
qualifies
as

a
merely
verbal
dispute
(even
though
there
is,
I
believe,
an
intuitional
pull

towards
classifying
them
as
such).
The
thing
for
the
reader
to
keep
an
eye
on
is

the
intuitive
similarity
between
the
first
three
pairs.
There
is
a
relationship

between
the
members
of
each
pair
that
is
the
same
in
kind.
I
leave
open
the

question
of
whether
or
not
the
fourth
pair
shares
this
relation.
As
far
as

philosophical
disputes
go,
it
seems
to
be
a
good
candidate
for
being
classified
as
a

merely
verbal
dispute.
This
is
not
to
say
that
it
is
one,
but
only
that
it
is
the
type

of
philosophical
dispute
that
warrants
a
closer
look.

A1:

Consider
the
following
conversation
between
a
British
person
and
an
American.

Assume
that
each
has
knowledge
of
the
ambiguity
of
the
term
‘football’.
Their

dispute
is
substantive
and
not
generated
by
some
fundamental
difference
in
the

way
they
use
their
terms:

Briton:
Football,
or
soccer
(as
you
guys
call
it),
is
the
greatest
sport
in
the

world!

American:
No,
it
isn’t.
American
football
is.

Briton:
That’s
ridiculous.
There’s
no
real
grace
to
it.
It’s
for
meatheads.

American:
It
might
be
for
meatheads,
but
it’s
better
than
soccer.

23

A2:

Now,
consider
the
next
example.
This
is
one
in
which
a
Briton
and
an
American

do
not
have
knowledge
of
the
fact
that
‘football’
is
an
ambiguous
term.
In
it,
it

seems
clear
that
the
difference
in
the
way
they
are
using
the
term
‘football’
is

generating
the
dispute:

Briton:

Football
is
the
most
brilliant
sport
in
the
world.
Just
the
best!

American:
Ugh…
I
hate
football.
It’s
SO
violent.
And
they’re
ALWAYS

stopping
play…

Briton:
What
are
you
talking
about?
Football
is
a
graceful
sport
with
very

little
violence.
And
play
is
practically
continuous.

American:
You’re
joking,
right?
Why
do
you
think
they
wear
all
of
those

pads,
and
the
helmets,
in
football?
It’s
for
protection
from
the
violent

nature
of
the
sport.
And
they
stop
play
constantly
to
reset
the
ball.

Briton:
I
literally
do
not
know
what
you’re
talking
about.
Football
is

nothing
like
that…

Obviously,
the
Briton
is
using
the
term
‘football’
to
talk
about
soccer.
And
the

American
is
using
the
term
to
talk
about
American
football.
Let’s
also
assume
that

the
American
believes
that
soccer
is
the
best
sport
in
the
world.
If
such
were
the

case,
a
correct
thing
to
say
about
this
conversation
would
be
that
the
two

disputants
actually
agree
about
the
truth
of
the
relevant
claim,
that
soccer
is
the

best
sport
in
the
world.
This
case
is,
without
controversy,
merely
verbal.
This
is
a

paradigmatic
case
of
a
merely
verbal
dispute.
I
take
the
relationship
between

24

these
two
examples
to
be
intuitively
similar
to
the
relationship
between
the
pairs

below.

B1:

It
seems,
though,
that
we
do
not
need
ambiguity
of
some
term
of
the
dispute
to

get
a
merely
verbal
dispute
(or,
at
least,
something
importantly
like
one).
Let
us

look
at
a
pair
of
examples
with
no
ambiguous
terms
generating
either
dispute.

This
pair
will
be
analogous
to
the
previous
pair
in
that
the
first
will
be
obviously

substantive
and
the
second
will
not.

Imagine
two
friends,
Jim
and
John,
arguing
about
whether
or
not
the
actor

Steve
Carrell
is
in
the
movie
Bruce
Almighty.
Assume
that
each
has
the
right

person
in
mind
when
using
the
proper
names
in
the
dispute:

Jim:
You
remember
Steve
Carrell
in
Bruce
Almighty?
That
was
before
he

became
famous.

John:
I
don’t
think
he
was
in
that.
That
was
Jim
Carrey.

Jim:
Yeah,
Jim
Carrey
was
in
that
movie,
too.
He
was
the
lead.
Carrell
was

the
guy
he
was
competing
with
for
the
anchor
job.

John:
No,
he
wasn’t.
I
would
remember
that.
I
love
Steve
Carrell.
It
must’ve

been
someone
else.

B2:

Now,
consider
the
following
conversation
between
Jim
and
John
discussing
a

movie.
It
seems
as
though
there
is
something
non-‐substantive
about
this
dispute,

even
if
Jim
and
John
are
making
contradictory
claims
and
have
contradictory

beliefs:

25

Jim:
Man,
I
can’t
wait
to
see
Steve
Carrell
in
his
new
movie,
Land
of
the

Lost!

John:
That’s
not
a
Steve
Carrell
movie,
dude…

Jim:
What
are
you
talking
about,
of
course
it
is.
The
tall
comedian
guy
with

the
curly
hair,
who
used
to
be
on
SNL.
He’s
in
Land
of
the
Lost.

John:
No,
that’s
not
Steve
Carrell.
That’s
Will
Farrell.
Steve
Carrell
is
short

and
is
on
The
Office.

Jim:
Oh
yeah…
Right…
I
meant
him.

The
brief
dispute
above,
over
whether
or
not
Steve
Carell
is
in
Land
of
the
Lost,
is

a
merely
verbal
one.
Assuming
that
Jim
is
competent
with
the
name
‘Steve

Carrell’,
he
makes
a
claim
about
Carrell
at
the
top
of
the
conversation,
that
he

(Jim)
cannot
wait
to
see
that
new
Steve
Carrell
movie.
He
goes
on
to
disagree
with

John
about
whether
or
not
Land
of
the
Lost
is
a
Steve
Carrell
film.
I
would
like
to

draw
the
focus
of
the
reader
to
the
similarity
between
this
pair
and
the
first
pair,

involving
the
term
‘football’.
There
seems
to
be
something
non-‐substantive
about

the
second
half
of
this
pair
that
is
very
much
like
what
seems
to
be
happening

when
the
Briton
and
the
American
are
talking
past
each
other
when
they
use
the

term
‘football’
differently.
With
this
pair
of
cases,
we
can
see
that
what
I
am

calling
merely
verbal
disputes
(which
might
include
some
examples
that
fall

outside
of
our
ordinary
notion)
can
occur
even
in
cases
in
which
the
speakers

really
do
say
contradictory
things.
We
can
find
examples
of
this
that
do
not
rely

on
a
speaker
misusing
a
proper
name,
as
well.

26

C1:

Imagine
a
husband
and
wife
arguing
about
whether
or
not
their
kid’s
Lakers
cup

is
in
the
car.
It
is
a
substantive
dispute.
There
is
no
term
of
the
dispute
that
Jenny

is
using
in
a
fundamentally
different
way
than
Jackson,
and
vice
versa:

Jenny:
The
cup
is
in
the
car.

Jackson:
No
it’s
not.
I
already
looked
there.

Jenny:
I
know
you,
and
I
know
that
you
didn’t
look
hard
enough…It’s

under
the
front
passenger
seat.

Jackson:
Ugh.
No,
it
isn’t.
I’m
telling
you.
I
looked.

C2:

Now
imagine
the
same
couple
arguing
over
whether
or
not
some
drinking
vessel

is
a
cup.
The
dispute
is
generated
by
some
fundamental
difference
with
respect
to

how
each
speaker
uses
the
term
‘cup’:

Jenny:
Hand
me
that
cup
over
there,
please.
I
need
some
water.

Jackson:
Um…
I’ll
hand
you
that
glass,
if
that’s
what
you’re
asking
for…

Jenny:
Yeah,
hand
me
that
glass
cup.

Jackson:
Look,
no
big
deal…
But
it’s
a
glass,
not
a
cup.
Cups
aren’t
made
of

glass.
Here
you
go.

Jenny:
Thanks.
And,
I
think
you’re
wrong.
Some
cups
are
made
of
glass.

This
one
is.

Jackson:
Sweetheart…
I
love
you.
You
know
that.
So
don’t
take
this
the

wrong
way.
But
cups
can’t
be
made
of
glass.
It
just
doesn’t
work
that
way.

27

Jenny:
Sugarpie…
I
love
you,
too.
But
you’re
wrong.
This
is
a
cup.
And
it’s

made
of
glass…

This,
to
me,
seems
to
be
a
merely
verbal
dispute.
But
if
the
reader
has
some

intuitive
ordinary
notion
of
what
it
takes
for
a
dispute
to
be
merely
verbal
that

does
not
apply
to
this
case,
then
he
should
consider
me
as
asking
him
to
extend

that
notion
past
its
ordinary
usage.
It
is
not
important
to
me
here
what
the
term

‘merely
verbal
dispute’
means
in
our
language.
It
is
important
to
me
that
there

seems
to
be
something
quite
similar
going
on
between
A1-‐A2
and
C1-‐C2
that

seems
related
to
what
makes
the
former
pair
an
uncontroversial
example
of
an

ordinary
merely
verbal
dispute.

An
important
difference
between
the
first
merely
verbal
case
and
this
one

is
that
the
term
‘cup’
does
not
seem
to
be
ambiguous,
whereas
the
term
‘football’

is.
Intuitively,
there
is
one
(relevant)
meaning
of
the
term
‘cup’
6
.
And,
so,
it
seems

as
though
there
is
an
important
sense
in
which
only
one
of
the
parties
to
the

second
merely
verbal
dispute
can
be
correct.
It
is
a
reasonable
assumption
that
it

is
either
true
that
a
cup
can
be
made
of
glass
or
it
is
not
true.
This
contrasts
with

the
case
involving
the
term
‘football’
(A2),
in
which
both
sides
can
be
correct.
In

the
‘cup’
case
(C2),
either
Jenny
is
correct
or
Jackson
is,
but
not
both.
They
make

claims
that
contradict
one
another.
In
the
merely
verbal
dispute
involving
the

term
‘football’
the
Briton
and
the
American
are
not
contradicting
one
another.

6

Obviously,
there
are
different
sorts
of
cups.
Some
are
drinking
cups
and
some

are
not
(e.g.,
athletic
cups).
Perhaps
the
term
‘cup’
is
ambiguous
between
those

kinds
of
cases.
But
that
is
not
relevant
to
this
case.

28

This
helps
explain
why
mere
verbal-‐ness
of
C2
is
subtler
than
the
mere
verbal-‐
ness
of
A2.

It
seems
clear
to
me
that
what
is
generating
the
dispute
between
Jenny

and
Jackson
is
some
difference
between
them
with
respect
to
their
basic

dispositions
to
use
the
term
‘cup’.
They
have
different
ways
of
using
the
term
that

seem
to
be
determined
by
something
other
than
differing
non-‐linguistic
beliefs.

Furthermore,
it
seems
that
this
difference
between
them
cannot
be
done
away

with
by
anything
other
than
a
lesson
in
the
proper
use
of
the
term.
It
does
not

appear
to
be
a
dispute
that
could
be
settled
by
going
out
into
the
world
and

looking
at
drinking
vessels
made
of
glass
that
Jenny
wants
to
apply
the
term
to

but
Jackson
does
not.
It
is
already
clear
that
they
are
not
going
to
agree
on
the

terms
of
the
investigation.
If
they
set
out
to
examine
cups
and
see
if
any
of
them

are
made
of
glass,
they
are
not
going
to
agree
exactly
on
which
objects,

specifically,
are
to
be
examined.

It
is
important
to
make
something
clear
at
this
point.
I
am
building
into
the

example
that
Jackson
will
not,
even
upon
the
deepest
reflection,
feel
like
applying

the
term
‘cup’
to
glass
vessels.
But
this
does
not
mean
that
we
cannot
imagine
a

different
case
in
which
upon
reflection
he
does
change
his
tune.
Imagine
him

going
out
and
seeing
a
number
of
glass
vessels
that
are
the
exact
same
size
and

shape
as
a
bunch
of
other
vessels
that
happen
to
be
made
out
of
plastic.
We
can

imagine
a
person
reflecting
on
these
objects
and
their
similarities
and
deciding

that
the
term
‘cup’
does
refer
to
glass
vessels.

29

Let’s
say
Jackson
has
a
brother
named
Jetson
and
that
Jetson
has
this

experience.
We
can
imagine
that
Jetson
thinks
one
of
two
things,
either
that
it
is

in
accordance
with
what
he
meant
all
along
that
glass
vessels
are
cups
(and
he

just
did
not
realize
it
until
he
reflected
deeply
on
it)
or
that
even
though
the
term

does
not
apply
to
glass
vessels,
it
should.
In
the
second
type
of
case,
it
seems

obvious
that
if
he
feels
like
revising
the
meaning
of
the
term
that
does
not
change

the
fact
that
he
meant
what
he
meant
before
his
revision.
So
any
dispute
he
was

engaged
in
prior
to
his
revision
is
one
in
which
he
is
using
the
term
in
the
old
way

and,
thus,
engaging
in
a
merely
verbal
dispute
with
someone
like
Jenny.
The
first

type
of
case,
in
which
he
finds
out
that
he
was
misapplying
the
term,
given
the

meaning
that
he
has
historically
associated
with
the
term,
is
arguably
one
in

which
any
disagreement
like
C2
that
he
engaged
in
with
someone
like
Jenny

should
not
end
up
counting
as
a
merely
verbal
dispute.
And,
so,
an
important

feature
of
a
merely
verbal
dispute
might
be
that
the
disputants
would
not,
upon

deep
reflection,
change
their
minds
about
what
they
mean
by
some
central
term

of
the
dispute.

D1:

Finally,
and
most
controversially,
let
us
consider
a
pair
of
disputes
between
two

philosophers,
Smith
and
Jones.
The
first
is
a
dispute
about
how
many
objects
are

on
the
table
in
the
next
room.
Smith
and
Jones
just
walked
through
the
room
with

the
table
in
it,
each
taking
a
glance
at
the
table.
There
happens
to
be
a
picture

sitting
flat
on
the
table.
It
blends
in
with
the
tablecloth
and
is
easy
to
miss.
This

dispute
is
clearly
substantive:

30

Smith:
What
was
that
on
the
table
back
there?

Jones:
Huh?
There
wasn’t
anything
on
it.

Smith:
Yeah,
there
was
an
object
on
the
table.
But
I
looked
so
quickly
that
I

couldn’t
tell
what
it
was.
Was
it
a
picture
of
Manny
Ramirez?

Jones:
Um…I
don’t
know
what
to
tell
you.
There
wasn’t
an
object
on
the

table.
The
table
had
nothing
on
it
at
all.
No
picture.
Nothing.

D2:

The
second
dispute
is
about
how
many
objects
are
on
some
table
in
front
of
Smith

and
Jones.
Imagine
that
there
are
two
forks
on
the
table,
and
no
other
simple

objects.
This
example
seems
to
be
importantly
different
from
the
one
with
the

picture
on
the
table:

Smith:
I’m
telling
you,
there
are
only
two
objects
on
this
table.
They
are

both
forks.

Jones:

You’re
wrong,
there
are
three
objects:
the
two
forks
and
the

mereological
sum
of
the
forks.

Smith:
No,
there
is
no
object
on
the
table
that
is
made
of
each
of
those

forks.
That’s
not
an
object.
We
can
think
of
the
pair
of
forks
together.
But

that
doesn’t
mean
that
they
compose
some
third
object.

Jones:
I
guess
I
agree
that
the
fact
we
can
think
of
them
together
doesn’t

mean
that
they
compose
some
third
object.
But
they
do,
in
fact,
compose
a

third
object.

And
so
on.

31

What
we
have
here
are
two
philosophers
engaged
in
two
different
kinds
of

disputes.
Again,
the
first
dispute
(D1)
is
uncontroversially
substantive.
There
is

nothing
about
that
example
that
should
make
us
think
that
Smith
and
Jones
are

using
the
terms
‘there
are’
or
‘object’
(or
any
other
term
in
the
dispute)
in

fundamentally
different
ways.
It
is
just
that
Smith
saw
the
picture
on
the
table

and
Jones
did
not.

In
the
second
dispute
(D2)
Smith
and
Jones
disagree
about
whether
or
not

the
two
forks
make
up
a
third
object.
A
question
we
can
ask
is
whether
or
not
this

dispute
is
relevantly
similar
to
the
three
merely
verbal
disputes
above
(A2,
B2,

and
C2).
On
one
view,
it
is
not.
Clearly,
someone
who
takes
this
view
might
say,

this
is
a
substantive
dispute
about
the
amount
of
objects
on
the
table.
Smith
and

Jones
are
making
contradictory
claims
and
have
contradictory
beliefs.
And
that
is

all
there
is
to
the
dispute
being
substantive.
If
it
is
substantive,
then
it
is
not

merely
verbal.
Thus,
it
is
not
merely
verbal.

This
line
of
reasoning
might
be
a
bit
fast,
though.
A
skeptic
might
take
the

view
that
there
is
nothing
really
to
this
dispute,
because
it
is
merely
verbal.
All

that
is
going
on,
as
in
A2,
B2,
and
C2,
is
that
the
participants
are
using
some

relevant
piece
of
terminology
fundamentally
differently
from
one
another.
This
is

consistent
with
them
making
contradictory
claims
and
having
contradictory

beliefs
about
the
subject
matter
of
the
dispute.
As
partially
mentioned
above,
in

the
merely
verbal
dispute
involving
the
term
‘cup’
(C2),
it
seems
like
we
should

say
that
even
though
it
is
merely
verbal,
the
disputants
make
contradictory

claims
and
possess
contradictory
beliefs
about
the
drinking
vessel.
So,
if
we
are

32

okay
describing
that
dispute
as
merely
verbal,
we
should
be
okay
describing
this

one
as
merely
verbal.
Or,
at
the
very
least,
if
we
feel
comfortable
saying
that
there

is
something
similar
going
on
between
the
second
halves
of
each
pair
of
examples

(A2,
B2,
C2,
and
D2)
that
makes
them
different
from
the
first
halves
(A1,
B1,
C1,

and
D1),
then
we
may
have
our
collective
eye
on
an
interesting
feature
that

seems
similar
to
mere
verbal-‐ness.
I
am
calling
disputes
with
that
feature
‘merely

verbal’.
And
it
seems
we
maybe
should
think
of
them
in
a
similar
way
to
how
we

think
of
disputes
that
are
uncontroversially
merely
verbal.
That
is,
we
should

identify
them
when
possible.
And
insofar
as
we
do
not
think
that
ordinary
merely

verbal
disputes
are
very
interesting,
we
should
think
the
same
of
disputes
of
this

sort.

My
sense
is
that
D2
is
a
merely
verbal
dispute.
But
it
is
important
to
be

clear
that
I
am
not
committing
to
the
claim
that
D2
is
merely
verbal.
I
am
not

saying
that
we
have
best
reason
to
believe
that
it
is
similar
enough
to
ordinary

merely
verbal
disputes
to
be
grouped
with
them
in
any
important
way.
I
am

leaving
this
an
open
question.
A2,
B2,
and
C2
are,
in
my
opinion,
merely
verbal.

But
D2
mirrors
a
controversial
philosophical
dispute,
about
which
meta-‐
ontologists
disagree.
I
would
not
presume
that
putting
it
next
to
a
few
merely

verbal
disputes
should
settle
the
meta-‐ontological
dispute
about
whether
or
not

it
is
merely
verbal.
It
is
included
here
to
give
the
reader
a
sense
of
what
sort
of

philosophical
dispute
we
might
end
up
seeing,
after
further
investigation,
as

being
merely
verbal.

33

Below,
I
will
consider
some
characterizations
of
merely
verbal
disputes

that
philosophers
have
recently
given.

These
are
not
the
only
views
out
there
7
,

but
they
are
the
most
promising,
given
the
assumptions
I
am
asking
the
views
to

take
on.
In
discussing
these
views,
if
I
find
that
they
are
not
consistent
with
the

externalist
assumptions
I
want
to
make,
or
that
they
clearly
do
not
generate
A2,

B2,
C2,
and
D2
as
merely
verbal,
that
will
count
against
them.

3.
THE
VIEWS
OF
CHALMERS,
JENKINS,
AND
SIDER

In
this
section,
I
will
consider
three
views
of
merely
verbal
disputes.
Each
is
a

view
of
what
it
takes
for
a
dispute
to
be
merely
verbal.
And
it
seems
as
though

each
view
is
arguably
an
attempt
to
capture
the
feature
to
which
I
draw
focus
in

the
previous
section.
I
will
evaluate
them
with
respect
to
that
assumption.

Another
dimension
along
which
I
will
evaluate
the
views
is
with
respect
to
how

well
they
do
in
the
face
of
externalist
views
of
semantic
and
belief
content

determination.

David
Chalmers
puts
forth
a
view
of
what
he
calls
‘verbal
disputes’.
His

verbal
disputes
seem
to
be
what
I
am
calling
‘merely
verbal
disputes’.
Chalmers

differentiates
between
what
he
calls
narrow
and
broad
verbal
disputes.
Narrow

verbal
disputes
are
disputes
in
which
the
participants
express
different

propositions
with
the
same
sentence,
but
do
not
realize
they
are
doing
that.
The

difference
in
the
propositions
expressed
accounts
for
the
appearance
of
a

disagreement.
Broad
verbal
disputes
are
ones
in
which
the
disputants
can
mean

the
same
thing
(in
the
public
language)
by
the
use
of
some
disputed
sentence,
but

7

Bennett
(2009),
Sidelle
(2008)

34

in
which
there
still
is
some
sort
of
difference
in
the
way
in
which
they
use
some

relevant
term(s)
of
the
dispute.
Chalmers,
rightly,
focuses
on
broad
verbal

disputes.
He
appreciates
that
we
have
reason
to
think
that
meanings
of
terms
are,

to
some
extent,
determined
by
factors
(social
and
non-‐social)
that
are
not
under

the
control
of
the
individual
speaker.
(This
is
important
because
there
do
seem
to

be
disputes
in
which
there
is
no
obvious
ambiguity
involved,
yet
we
still
feel
like

saying
that
they
are
merely
verbal.)
He
goes
on
to
offer
a
characterization
of
such

verbal
disputes.
For
Chalmers,
a
dispute
over
some
sentence
S
is
broadly
verbal

when:
8

A
dispute
over
S
is
(broadly)
verbal
when
for
some
expression
T
in
S,
the

parties
disagree
about
the
meaning
of
T,
and
the
dispute
over
S
arises

wholly
in
virtue
of
this
disagreement
regarding
T.

There
does
not
seem
to
be
anything
too
objectionable,
for
the
purposes
of
getting

a
general
sense
of
the
basic
notion
of
merely
verbal
disputes,
about
the

characterization
that
Chalmers
gives
here.

He
gives
a
good
gloss
on
the
notion
of

merely
verbal
disputes,
or
at
least
the
one
on
which
I
am
attempting
to
focus.

Chalmers
seems
to
attempt
to
cover
his
bases
by
inserting
the
part
about

the
speakers
disagreeing
about
the
meaning
of
some
term
T.
So,
if
appealing
to

the
disputants
using
the
terms
differently
does
not
work,
he
can
fall
back
on
the

idea
that
they
have
different
meta-‐linguistic
beliefs
about
the
meanings
of
the

terms
in
question.
It
would
be
nice
to
see
what
he
has
in
mind
here,
exactly.
But

one
problem
that
pops
up
is,
again,
our
beliefs
are
going
to
be
affected
by
the

8

Chalmers
(2011),
p.
7

35

semantics
of
the
public
terms
that
we
use
to
form
and
express
those
beliefs.
And

our
beliefs
about
the
meaning
of
some
term,
insofar
as
they
are
going
to
make
it

possible
to
diverge
from
one
another,
are
going
to
be
something
like
a
set
of

metalinguistic
beliefs
for
the
application
conditions
of
the
term
in
question.
In

order
to
get
at
the
more
private
or
personal
aspect
of
a
speaker’s
relationship

with
the
public
meaning
of
the
terms
of
his
language,
there
might
need
to
be
a

way
to
talk
about
those
beliefs
of
speakers
which
are
not
affected
by
factors

external
to
them.
Chalmers
does
not
seem
to
help
us
here.

Given
the
lack
of
extreme
precision
of
Chalmers’
characterization,
when

ignoring
the
part
of
his
view
that
builds
in
something
like
metalinguistic
beliefs

about
the
application
conditions
of
a
term
as
an
option,
the
view
is
not
as
useful

as
it
could
be,
and
it
seems
to
run
afoul
of
the
assumptions
about
content

determination
that
I
am
making
in
this
part
of
the
project.
It
might
be
worth

trying
to
help
Chalmers
out
by
altering
his
view
in
order
to
make
it
more
precise

in
the
relevant
way.
However,
it
is
not
necessary,
given
that
other
views,
which

we
will
consider
below,
already
do
a
better
job
on
this
account.

The
next
view
I
will
consider
is
that
of
Carrie
Jenkins.
Jenkins
states
her

view
as
follows:
9

“Parties
A
and
B
are
having
a
merely
verbal
dispute
iff
they
are
engaged
in

a
sincere
prima
facie
dispute
D,
but
do
not
disagree
over
the
subject

matter
of
D,
and
merely
present
the
appearance
of
doing
so
owing
to
their

divergent
uses
of
some
relevant
portion
of
language.”

9

Merely
Verbal
Disputes
(forthcoming
in
Erkenntnis).

36

In
this
characterization
of
merely
verbal
disputes,
Jenkins
falls
prey
to
externalist

motivated
worries.

The
controversial
aspect
of
her
characterization
is
the
part

that
has
to
do
with
the
subject
matter
of
the
dispute.
Given
a
subtle
enough

merely
verbal
dispute
(like
B2,
C2,
and,
possibly,
D2),
it
seems
as
though
we
can

imagine
the
disputants
not
agreeing
on
the
subject
matter
of
the
dispute,
given
a

natural
way
of
thinking
of
what
counts
as
the
subject
matter
of
a
dispute.
Again,

in
the
dispute
involving
the
term
‘cup’
the
disputants
have
different
beliefs
about

whether
or
not
the
drinking
vessel
in
question
is
a
cup.
The
beliefs
that
they
have,

that
are
expressed
by
the
relevant
sentences
of
the
dispute,
contradict
one

another.
Perhaps
there
is
no
more
to
disagreeing
about
the
subject
matter
than

that
the
disputants
have
contradictory
beliefs
with
respect
to
it.

Jenkins
appeals
to
a
notion
of

“less-‐than-‐fully-‐externalist”
belief
10

in
order

to
help
her
articulate
the
sense
in
which
she
thinks
the
subject
matter
is
not

really
in
dispute.
With
respect
to
these
less-‐than-‐fully-‐externalist
beliefs
of
the

disputants,
in
the
subtler
merely
verbal
disputes,
there
would
be
no

contradiction.
In
the
example
with
Jackson
and
Jenny,
for
instance,
their
less-‐
than-‐fully-‐externalist
beliefs
would
not
conflict
with
each
other.
Thus,
according

to
Jenkins,
there
is
no
real
disagreement
about
the
subject
matter
of
the
dispute.

Insofar
as
her
view
relies
on
such
a
non-‐externalist
view
of
belief
content,
it
is
not

in
line
with
the
externalist
assumptions
that
I
wish
to
make
here.
It
might
be
fine

for
those
with
more
internalist
inclinations.

10

She
appeals
to
this
notion
in
footnote
7
of
her
paper
“Merely
Verbal
Disputes”

where
she
writes:
“I
must
also
specify
that…I
am
taking
belief
contents
to
be

individuated
in
less-‐than-‐fully-‐externalist
way
that
is
more
closely
related
to

speaker-‐meaning
than
meaning
in
a
public
language.”

37

Another
problem
with
this
view
is,
as
with
the
view
of
Chalmers,
it
relies

on
a
somewhat
imprecise
way
of
talking
about
the
speakers
using
terms

differently.
In
a
gloss
on
merely
verbal
disputes
this
sort
of
language
seems

perfectly
acceptable.
But
if
we
want
to
get
a
firmer
grip
on
the
feature
of
these

disputes
that
we
find
interesting
in
this
context,
we
need
to
get
clearer,
it
seems,

about
how
it
is
that
the
speakers
diverge
in
usage
when
engaged
in
a
merely

verbal
dispute.
Jenkins
seems
to
do
no
better
than
Chalmers
on
this
count.
Both

of
them
are
relying
too
much
on
the
reader’s
intuitive
understanding
of
the

difference
between
substantive
and
merely
verbal
disputes.
(To
be
clear,
relying

on
such
intuitions
would
be
more
understandable
if
their
focus
were
something

other
than
finding
an
accurate
characterization
of
merely
verbal
disputes.
In

philosophy
we
often
do
not
demand
exact
precision
with
our
conceptual
tools.

We
just
need
them
to
be
sharp
enough
to
do
the
job.
However,
given
that
the

notion
of
merely
verbal
disputes
is
the
subject
matter
here
and
not
some
tool

used
to
get
at
the
subject
matter,
it
seems
fair
to
hold
these
views
to
a
higher

standard
of
precision.)

The
third
and
final
view
I
will
consider
in
this
section
is
that
of
Ted
Sider

(2006).
Unlike
Chalmers
and
Jenkins,
Sider
is
engaged
in
a
discussion
about

meta-‐ontology
that
focuses
on
disputes
in
metaphysics
thought
by
some
to
be

merely
verbal,
e.g.,
the
dispute
over
whether
or
not
mereological
sums
exist.
His

main
conversational
partner
(with
respect
to
this
issue)
is
Hirsch.
With
respect
to

the
dispute
over
the
existence
of
mereological
sums,
Hirsch
believes
that
it
is
a

38

merely
verbal
dispute
11
.
Sider
does
not.
In
the
process
of
defending
his
position

that
this
dispute
is
not
merely
verbal,
Sider
gives
an
account
of
what
it
is
for
a

dispute
to
be
merely
verbal.
He
does
not
take
his
account
to
classify
the
dispute

about
mereological
sums
as
a
merely
verbal
dispute.
Instead,
his
account

classifies
the
dispute
about
mereological
sums
as
a
substantive
dispute.

Sider
writes
that
“to
say
that
an
apparent
dispute
over
some
sentence
S
is

a
merely
verbal
dispute
is
to
say
that
the
disputants
do
not
mean
the
same
thing

by
the
sentence
S,
and
that
what
one
says
by
uttering
S
is
consistent
with
what

the
other
says
by
uttering
not-‐S”.
12

As
he
admits,
in
the
same
section,
“there
are

many
things
that
one
can
mean
by
‘meaning’”.
13

Sider
seems
to
want
us
to

interpret
the
term
‘means’
in
his
characterization
of
merely
verbal
disputes
as

something
other
than
‘means
(in
the
public
language)’.
Presumably
he
would
not

go
through
the
trouble
of
pointing
out
the
ambiguity
of
the
term
‘meaning’
if
his

goal
is
to
characterize
merely
verbal
disputes
by
appealing
to
something
as

simple
as
the
semantic
content
of
our
public
language
utterances.
If
this
were
his

strategy,
we
should
expect
him
to
characterize
merely
verbal
disputes
by

appealing
to
ambiguity
of
public
language
terms
or
sentences,
and
leave
it
at
that.

But
he
does
not
do
this.
Thus,
he
seems
to
want
to
allow
for
merely
verbal

disputes
more
subtle
than
those
generated
by
ambiguity
in
the
public
language.

Sider
gives
a
necessary
condition
on
meaning
(or
the
sort
on
which
he
is

trying
to
focus)
that
says
that
in
order
for
two
sentences,
S
and
S’,
to
mean
the

11

More
on
Hirsch’s
view
in
the
next
section.

12

“Quantifiers
and
Temporal
Ontology”,
Mind
Vol.
115,
p.
76.

13

Sider,
p.
77.

39

same
thing
it
must
not
be
the
case
that
one
is
a
genuinely
quantified
claim
and
the

other
is
not.
In
doing
this,
he
brings
in
the
idea
that
there
is
some
best
notion
of

existence
that
is
a
candidate
for
what
we
mean
by
our
quantifier
expression
in

English
and
what
the
metaphysicians
mean
by
their
quantifier
expression.
He

makes
reference
to
it
when
characterizing
what
he
calls
‘genuine
quantification’.

Sider’s
definition
of
genuine
quantification
goes
as
follows,
“A
claim
is
genuinely

quantified
iff
it
is
expressed
by
some
sentence
whose
major
connective
is
a

syntactic
quantifier
that
means
this
notion
of
existence.”
14

Sider
is
not
entirely

clear
about
what
he
means
by
the
term
‘means’.
The
main
lead
that
he
gives
us

about
what
he
means
by
the
term
‘means’
in
his
characterization
of
merely
verbal

disputes
is
a
necessary
condition
about
two
kinds
of
sentences,
instances
of

which
cannot
be
translated
into
the
other.

In
order
to
understand
Sider
here,
it
is
important
to
get
clear
on
where
he

is
coming
from
with
respect
to
this
notion
of
existence
that
he
is
employing.
He
is

relying
on
some
notion
of
natural
properties
that
seems
akin
to
that
discussed
by

David
Lewis
(1983).
The
general
idea
is
that
there
are
some
properties
(or

relations
or
objects)
that
are
more
natural
than
others.
Talk
of
them
carves

nature
at
its
joints,
metaphorically
speaking.
And
they
are
better
candidates
for

the
meanings
of
our
terms
than
ones
that
are
less
natural.
This
view
is
sometimes

called
reference
magnetism.
To
make
the
notion
clearer,
let’s
consider
a
possible

example
of
it.
Consider
something
like
Kripke’s
notion
of
quus,
which
is
identical

to
the
notion
of
plus
except
when
the
numbers
to
be
added
are
greater
than
1

14

Sider
(2006),
p.
79.

40

trillion
15
,
in
which
case
the
answer
would
be
5.
One
might
worry
that
it
was
not

determined
which
notion
people
use
when
adding
numbers
lesser
than
.
These

are
two
candidate
meanings
for
the
term
‘plus’
in
English
and
from
a
certain

perspective,
it
looks
as
though
they
are
equally
determined
by
the
usage
of
the

term
‘plus’
by
English
speakers.
Most
speakers
never
have
any
need
to
add
to
1

trillion.
Presumably,
it
might
not
be
entirely
clear
which
rule
they
would
follow

were
they
to
add
all
the
way
up
to
or
above
1
trillion.

We
can
assume,
for
our
purposes
here,
that
their
usage
and
intentions
in

fact
do
not
determine
which
notion
they
are
using,
quus
or
plus.
Even
given
that

sort
of
indeterminacy,
we
feel
the
intuition
that
they
mean
plus
when
they
use
the

term
‘plus’.
It
seems
crazy
to
think
they
would
be
using
a
notion
as
unnatural
as

quus
when
there
is
another,
much
more
natural,
notion
available
in
plus.
To
be

clear,
this
is
not
to
say
that
our
intuition
is
that
they
should
be
using
plus.
Our

intuition
is
that
they
in
fact
are
using
that
notion,
even
though
their
usage
and

intentions
do
not
completely
make
that
so.
But
if
their
usage
and
intentions
with

respect
to
the
term
do
not
determine
plus
as
the
meaning
of
the
term
‘plus’,
then

we
need
to
identify
what
else
there
is
about
the
situation
that
might
account
for

our
intuition
that
it
is
what
is
meant
by
the
term.
The
only
real
candidate
seems

to
be
the
naturalness
of
the
notion
plus
relative
to
the
notion
quus.

Along
similar
lines,
Sider
takes
it
to
be
the
case
that
there
is
a
notion
of

existence
that
is
the
correct
notion
(of
all
the
different
existence-‐like
notions)
to

employ
for
making
inquiries
about
the
world.
This
best
notion
of
existence

15

This
is
not
the
number
used
by
Kripke,
but
it
makes
the
example
work
even

better
here,
I
believe.

41

somehow
fits
best
with
the
world
while
playing
the
central
inferential
role
that

we
expect
of
it.
Importantly,
it
might
be
that
the
linguistic
dispositions
of
some

community
of
speakers
do
not,
alone,
pick
out
this
best,
most
eligible,
candidate

meaning.
Yet,
they
still
might
express
it
with
their
quantifier
if
it
is
close
enough

to
what
would
be
picked
out
by
their
usage
alone.
That
is,
the
usage
and

dispositions
of
the
members
of
some
linguistic
community
might
be
imprecise
in

such
a
way
that
it
does
not
decide
between
two
candidate
meanings.
If
reference

magnetism
is
correct,
then
there
can
be
something
above
and
beyond
the
usage

and
dispositions
of
the
members
of
the
linguistic
community
(the
naturalness
of

the
candidate
meanings)
that
can
do
the
rest
of
the
job
in
determining
which

candidate
meaning
is
the
meaning
of
the
term
in
question.

Whether
or
not
we
pick
this
best
notion
of
existence
out
in
English
(and
he

does
not
seem
to
want
to
rule
it
out),
Sider
thinks
that
it
is
picked
out
by
the

quantifier
that
metaphysicians
use.
And
since
he
is
defending
ontological

disputes
as
not
merely
verbal,
this
is
what
he
is
most
centrally
concerned
with.
(If

the
reader
thinks
this
language
is
imprecise
or
not
useful,
then
they
think
the
way

in
which
Sider
describes
his
view
is
imprecise
or
not
useful.
Notably,
an
objection

to
Sider’s
view
by
Hirsch
is
that
Sider
is
less
than
usefully
clear
about
what
the

world’s
logical
joints
are
and
how
we
come
to
know
of
this
best
notion
of

existence.)

His
view
has
at
least
four
important
problems.
One
is
that
he
is
not
clear

enough
about
what
sense
of
‘means’
it
is
that
he
intends
to
focus
on.
He
does
not

need
to
have
necessary
and
sufficient
conditions
for
the
sense
he
is
interested
in,

42

but,
hopefully,
there
are
ways
in
which
he
could
make
it
easier
for
his
reader
to

get
a
grip
on
the
same
notion
that
he
has
in
mind
(assuming
that
there
is
some

relatively
precise
notion
that
he
has
in
mind).

A
second
problem
with
his
view
is
that
he
does
not
clearly
give
content
to

terms
like
‘logical
joints’
when
discussing
the
notion
of
existence
that
he
thinks
is

expressed
by
the
metaphysician’s
talk
of
existence.
16

It
would
be
helpful
if
he

gave
us
a
clearer
idea
of
what
he
thinks
these
logical
joints
are.
Also,
it
would
be

useful
to
know
how
it
is
that
we
detect
them
and
the
notions
that
better
line
up

with
them.

A
third
(and
less
serious)
problem
that
his
view
17

has
(and
that
he
focuses

on
outside
of
his
central
characterization
quoted
above)
is
that
he
seems
to
take

it
as
important
that
what
each
speaker
means
by
the
sentence
that
they
utter

must
end
up
being
something
that
the
other
speaker
would
agree
with.
Part
of

what
makes
the
dispute
merely
verbal,
on
his
view,
is
not
only
that
the
speakers

do
not
disagree,
but
that
they
would
agree
with
what
the
other
is
saying
if
they

truly
understood
what
he
meant.
But
it
just
is
not
the
case
that
a
merely
verbal

dispute
needs
to
involve
underlying
agreement
such
as
this.
We
can
easily

imagine
a
non-‐philosophical
merely
verbal
dispute
that
does
not
have
this
sort
of

agreement
underlying
it.

16

This
is
a
criticism,
mentioned
above,
that
is
leveled
by
Hirsch
(2008)
in

“Ontological
Arguments:
Interpretive
Charity
and
Quantifier
Variance”.

17

To
be
fair,
this
is
a
mistake
that
other
people
than
just
Sider
seem
to
slip
into

sometimes.
It
is
not
uncommon
to
equate
not
disagreeing
with
agreeing
in
a

fallacious
way.
But
I
assume
that
Sider
and
others
would
agree
with
me
here
if

asked.

43

For
instance,
go
back
to
the
merely
verbal
dispute
involving
the
term

‘football’
(A2),
the
most
obvious
case
that
we
have
considered.

Imagine
that
the

American
has
never
heard
of
soccer.
When
the
Briton
says
that
soccer
is
the
most

brilliant
sport
(using
the
term
‘football’
to
mean
soccer)
the
American

misunderstands
the
claim
and
so
voices
disagreement.
But
if
the
American
does

not
know
what
soccer
is,
then
there
can
be
no
underlying
agreement
with
the

Briton
about
how
brilliant
the
sport
is.
We
can
imagine
the
scenario
such
that

once
it
is
clear
to
the
American
what
is
being
claimed,
there
is
no
dispute
and
no

agreement.
This
fact
gives
us
good
reason
to
reject
the
claim
that
a
merely
verbal

dispute
must
involve
underlying
agreement.

Lastly,
and
I
will
discuss
this
issue
more
below,
his
reliance
on
there
being

some
best
candidate
for
the
notion
of
existence
does
not
help
him
in
the
way
that

he
seems
to
think.
He
takes
this
move,
it
seems,
to
help
settle
the
dispute
about

whether
or
not
ontological
debates,
such
as
the
one
between
those
that
say

mereological
sums
exist
and
those
that
do
not,
are
merely
verbal.
As
I
will
argue

below,
with
respect
to
Hirsch’s
and
Manley’s
views,
this
move
does
not
work.

One
might
wonder
if
there
are
easy
ways
in
which
we
might
tease
apart

the
views
discussed
above.
I
tend
to
think
that
there
are
not.
The
difference

between
the
views
is
so
subtle
that
they
it
is
difficult
to
find
sentences
with

respect
to
which
they
will
differ.
The
more
interesting
question
is
how
these

views
differ,
in
terms
of
what
they
say
about
cases,
from
the
views
of
Hirsch
and

Manley
that
I
discuss
below.

44

4.
THE
VIEWS
OF
HIRSCH
AND
MANLEY

Another
two
views
I
will
consider
are
quite
similar
to
each
other.
I
reserve
them

for
their
own
section
due
to
this
fact
and
that
they
are
the
closest
I
have
found
to

views
that
are
consistent
with
the
assumptions
I
wish
to
make.
They
are
the

views
of
Eli
Hirsch
and
David
Manley.

As
mentioned
above,
Hirsch
takes
a
position
against
Sider
with
respect
to

his
diagnosis
of
certain
ontological
disputes
as
merely
verbal.
He
takes
disputes

such
as
those
about
the
existence
of
mereological
sums
to
be
merely
verbal.
Not

surprisingly,
his
characterization
of
merely
verbal
disputes
is
different
from

Sider’s
in
important
respects.
Hirsch
(2005)
18

characterizes
a
merely
verbal

dispute
by
asking
us
to
imagine
the
disputants
as
forming
their
own
linguistic

communities.
We
are
supposed
to
imagine
linguistic
communities
with
individual

members
that
possess
the
same
dispositions
to
use
terms
as
each
actual
speaker

in
the
dispute.
We
are
to
focus
on
what
the
disputed
sentence
means
in
each

imaginary
linguistic
community.
If
they
mean
different
things,
then
the
dispute
is

merely
verbal.
Manley
(2009)
19

asks
us
to
do
something
similar.
His
view
is
a

modification
of
Hirsch’s.
He
asks
us
to
consider
each
speaker
as
a
restricted

semantic
supervenience
base.
To
treat
each
speaker
as
a
restricted

supervenience
base
is
to
consider
them
as
determining
the
meaning
of
the
words

in
their
own
language.
We
are
to
consider
whatever
it
is
about
members
of
a

linguistic
community
(plausibly,
the
dispositions
to
use
their
terms)
that
goes

18

“Physical-‐Object
Ontology,
Verbal
Disputes,
and
Common
Sense,
Philosophical

and
Phenomenological
Research,
Vol.
LXX,
No.
1,
January.

19

Metametaphysics:
New
Essays
on
the
Foundation
of
Ontology,
OUP.

45

into
contributing
to
the
semantic
content
of
the
terms
of
the
community’s

language
and
restrict
ourselves
to
those
features
of
each
disputant.
(This
is
a

weak
sense
of
determining.
Obviously,
no
one
individual
has
any
effect
on
the

public
meaning
of
the
terms
that
she
uses.
What
we
are
supposed
to
focus
on
is

that
which
generally
determines
the
meanings
of
terms
in
the
public
language.)

He
then
asks
us
to
restrict
our
attention
to
each
individual
of
the
dispute
and

consider
the
same
features
that
go
into
determining
the
meaning
of
terms
in
the

public
language.
We
are
to
focus
on
what
each
speaker
means,
when
considered

as
the
semantic
supervenience
base
of
the
terms
of
the
dispute.
If
they
mean

different
things,
then
they
semantically
deviate
with
respect
to
some
term(s)
of

the
dispute.
If
they
semantically
deviate,
then
it
is
a
merely
verbal
dispute.

The
main
difference
between
the
two
views
is
that
Hirsch
also
wants
to

build
translatability
and
resolvability
into
his
account,
as
necessary
conditions.

That
is,
he
thinks
a
dispute
is
merely
verbal
only
if
the
speakers
can,
in
principle,

translate
sentences
from
the
other’s
imagined
language
into
their
own.
And
it

needs
to
be
that
once
this
translation
is
done,
the
dispute
should
be
resolved.

Manley
builds
no
such
conditions
into
his
account.
The
importance
of
this

difference
comes
out
when
we
consider
the
possibility
of
two
speakers
that
speak

their
own
languages
(in
the
sense
that
Hirsch
and
Manley
ask
us
to
imagine
or

consider)
and
who
have
a
dispute
over
some
sentence
S
such
that
what
S
means

in
one
of
their
languages
is
not
able
to
be
translated
into
the
language
of
the

46

other.
20

It
seems
that
Manley
is
correct
in
not
including
these
conditions
into
his

account.
It
is
true
that
some
merely
verbal
disputes
are
resolvable
and
the
two

speakers
can,
in
principle
understand
each
other.
And
it
might
be
that
the

paradigmatic
cases
are
like
this.
But
it
seems
clear
that
two
speakers
in
situations

such
as
those
Hirsch
and
Manley
wish
us
to
consider
can
be
using
terms
to
pick

out
properties
(or
relations
or
objects)
for
which
the
other
does
not
have
a
term

in
his
vocabulary.
In
fact,
it
seems
as
though
we
have
this
sort
of
thing
happen

with
actual
natural
languages.
Some
languages
have
words
that
express
meanings

that
are
not
expressed
by
some
other
language.
And
it
would
not
be
surprising
to

find
that
this
happens
in
different
dialects
of
the
same
language,
as
well.

The
move
to
imagine
each
speaker
as
his
own
linguistic
community
or
as

the
semantic
supervenience
base
is,
presumably,
made
in
order
to
strip
away
the

influence
that
the
actual
linguistic
community
has
on
the
meaning
of
the
sentence

as
uttered
by
each
speaker.
In
subtler
merely
verbal
disputes
the
disputants
can

mean
the
same
thing
by
the
disputed
sentence.
Given
the
assumption
that

speakers
can
be
wrong
about
what
the
disputed
sentence
in
a
dispute
means,
one

of
the
speakers
might
not
understand
what
some
disputed
sentence
means
in
her

own
mouth.

One
way
to
interpret
Hirsch
and
Manley
here
is
that
they
are
attempting

to
account
for
that
and
find
a
way
to
get
at
what
the
individual
is
contributing
to

20

This
should
not
be
too
difficult
to
imagine.
It
seems
quite
normal
for
languages

to
not
perfectly
translate
into
each
other.
We
notice
this
kind
of
thing
when

learning
second
languages,
when
we
are
told
that
there
is
not
English
term(s)

that
exactly
captures
what
is
meant
by
some,
say,
French
term
that
we
are
trying

to
incorporate
into
our
vocabulary.

47

the
meaning
of
the
public
sentence.
(This
last
claim
is
based
on
the
assumption

that
each
member
of
the
linguistic
community
contributes
something
to
the

meanings
of
words
in
his
community.
This
is,
of
course,
consistent
with
it
being

true
that
no
member
of
the
community
is
making
a
significant
difference
to
what

the
meaning
of
any
term
is.)
If
that
which
is
contributed
by
some
disputant
to
the

public
meaning
of
the
disputed
sentence
is
different
from
what
is
contributed
by

the
other
person
in
the
dispute,
and
that
is
what
is
causing
the
dispute,
then
we

have
a
merely
verbal
dispute.
And
this
does
not
just
hold
true
for
the
subtler
kind

of
merely
verbal
disputes.

Going
back
to
the
example
involving
the
term
‘football’,
the
Briton
and
the

American
are
arguably
making
different
contributions
to
the
meaning
of
the

disputed
sentence.
The
differences
in
that
case
have
to
do
with
the
different

public
senses
that
they
are
intending
to
pick
out
with
their
utterances
of
the
term

‘football’.
The
Briton’s
contribution
to
the
public
language
is
in
line
with
the
sense

of
‘football’
that
picks
out
soccer.
The
American’s
contribution
to
the
public

language
is
in
line
with
the
sense
that
picks
out
American
football.
Considered
in

the
ways
that
Hirsch
and
Manley
ask
us
to
consider
them,
they
mean
different

things
by
the
same
sentence.
Thus,
their
dispute
is
merely
verbal.

What
is
good
about
these
views,
relative
to
others
considered
above,
is

that
they
do
not
explicitly
rely
on
less-‐than-‐fully-‐externalist
content
(semantic
or

belief).
They
do
not
run
afoul
of
the
externalist
assumptions
I
am
making.
There

is
something
like
less-‐than-‐fully-‐externalist
content
that
is
appealed
to
by
both

views,
but
it
does
not
seem
as
though
either
view
is
committed
to,
or
needs
to
be

48

committed
to,
the
actual
existence
of
anything
that
runs
counter
to
externalist

views
about
semantic
or
belief
content.
Externalists
should
not
have
a
problem

with
the
claim
that
there
is
something
that
is
contributed
by
individuals
to
the

semantic
content
of
terms
in
the
language.
Hirsch
and
Manley
are,
basically,

saying
that
whatever
happens
to
all
of
the
contributions
by
all
of
the
members
of

the
linguistic
community,
let
us
suppose
that
it
happened
to
only
the
contribution

of
one
person.

Let’s
consider
a
sentence
from
the
dispute
between
Jackson
and
Jenny

(C2).
Jackson
utters
the
following
sentence
to
Jenny:

(CNG)
Cups
aren’t
made
of
glass.

Jenny
does
not
agree
with
Jackson,
she
thinks
that
cups
can
be
made
of
glass
and

so
is
not
willing
to
assent
to
sentence
(CNG).
Now,
let’s
assume
(as
seems

plausible)
that
there
is
some
fact
of
the
matter
as
to
whether
or
not
cups
can
be

made
of
glass,
given
the
meanings
of
the
relevant
terms
in
our
public
language.

Given
that
assumption,
either
sentence
(CNG)
is
true
or
it
is
false.
Let’s
assume

that
it
is
true.
(It
does
not
matter
for
this
point
if
it
is
actually
true
or
false,
just

that
it
is
one
or
the
other.)

It
seems,
as
I
claim
above
in
my
discussion
of
C2,
that
this
dispute
is

merely
verbal.
Jackson
and
Jenny
seem
just
to
be
talking
past
each
other
in
a
way

that
is
relevantly
similar
to
the
American
and
Briton
in
the
football
case.
But
if
the

first
group
of
views
that
I
have
considered
in
this
chapter
is
correct,
then
Jenny

and
Jackson
are
arguably
not
having
a
merely
verbal
dispute.
(I
am
lumping
the

views
together
here
even
though
they
might
treat
this
case
slightly
differently

49

from
one
another.
The
important
thing
is
their
lack
of
full-‐blooded
externalist

considerations.)
They
would
not
classify
the
dispute
over
sentence
(CNG)
as
a

merely
verbal
dispute
because
the
sentence,
given
the
assumptions
I
make
here,

means
the
same
thing
in
the
mouth
of
Jackson
as
it
does
in
the
mouth
of
Jenny.
On

the
other
hand,
Hirsch
and
Manley
have
no
problem
characterizing
the
dispute

over
sentence
(CNG)
as
merely
verbal.
(This
is
true
even
with
respect
to
the
view

of
Chalmers,
given
that
he
relies
on
an
internalistic
metalinguistic
belief
of
the

disputants
in
his
characterization
of
merely
verbal
disputes.
Out
of
the
three
of

these
views,
his
is
the
most
likely
to
be
able
to
be
saved
from
this
criticism.
Sider

and
Jenkins
cannot
plausibly
be
said
to
have
the
resources
to
block
it.
But

Chalmers
is
at
best
possibly
capable
of
avoiding
this
criticism,
whereas
Hirsch
and

Manley
are
certainly
capable
of
doing
so.)

None
of
this
is
to
say
the
views
of
Hirsch
and
Manley
are
perfect.
My
main

criticism
of
these
two
views
is
that
they
may
not
do
enough
to
strip
away
non-‐
social
external
factors,
such
as
the
effects
of
reference
magnetism,
that
go
into

determining
the
semantic
content
of
terms.
Hirsch
asks
us
to
imagine
what
a

speaker
in
a
dispute
would
mean
if
he
were
embedded
in
a
community
of

speakers
like
him.
But
Hirsch
does
not
do
anything
to
control
for
the
effects
of

reference
magnetism.
(The
same
can
be
said
for
Manley.)
So,
the
disputed

sentence(s)
might
have
the
same
meaning
in
the
imagined
linguistic
communities

whose
dispositions
are
based
on
those
of
the
disputants.
If
this
were
the
case,

then
his
characterization
would
not
generate
the
disputes
that
he
wants
it
to.

Namely,
disputes
such
as
the
one
involving
forks
above
(D2,
the
questionable

50

dispute
involving
a
dispute
over
the
existence
of
a
mereological
sum).
This
is
an

arguable
weakness
of
his
view
that
Sider
exploits.
Given
Sider’s
reliance
on

reference
magnetism
in
his
exchange
with
Hirsch,
Hirsch
takes
the
view
that

there
is
no
reference
magnetism.
But
he
does
not
need
to
do
this.
If
there
is
no

reference
magnetism
strong
enough
to
make
Sider’s
view
correct,
then
Hirsch’s

view
looks
good.
However,
even
if
there
is
reference
magnetism
of
that
sort,
it

seems
that
it
should
not
make
a
difference.

It
is
not
at
all
clear
that
reference
magnetism
is
the
correct
view
to
take

about
how
the
semantic
content
of
terms
is
(partially)
determined.
It
is
more

controversial
than
the
externalist
view
about
social
factors
influencing
the

semantic
content
of
terms.
I
have
no
interest
here
in
arguing
for
or
against
it.

However,
it
is
a
view
that
is
in
play
in
the
literature.
And,
I
think
it
is
possible
to

modify
the
views
of
Hirsch
and
Manley
to
take
this
into
account.
(If
it
is
not,
then

we
should
take
a
different
approach
to
characterizing
merely
verbal
disputes.)

We
might
want
to
build
it
into
their
view
that
the
effects
of
reference
magnetism

be
ignored
when
we
talk
about
what
each
speaker
means
when
only
their

contribution
to
the
public
semantics
is
considered.

5.
MODIFYING
THE
HIRSCH/MANLEY-‐STYLE
VIEW

It
is
not
my
view
that
a
weak
or
strong
form
of
reference
magnetism
is
correct.

However,
some
might
take
one
or
the
other
to
be.
Hirsch
and
Manley’s
views

would
be
strengthened
with
a
modification
that
would
help
block
a
certain
kind

of
objection
from
these
versions
of
reference
magnetism.
The
strong
reference

magnetism
that
I
have
in
mind
is
one
in
which
the
“magnetic”
effects
of
the
more

51

natural
properties
(or
relations
or
objects)
overwhelms
use.
On
such
a
view,
the

dispositions
of
the
members
of
the
linguistic
community
might
determinately

pick
out
some
less
good
candidate
for
the
meaning
of
some
term,
but
for
the
fact

that
there
is
a
better
candidate
available.
This
can
be
contrasted
with
a
weaker

version
of
reference
magnetism
according
to
which,
for
instance,
some
candidate

meaning
being
better
than
some
other
candidate
meaning
only
makes
a
semantic

difference
when
the
dispositions
of
the
linguistic
community
are
imprecise

between
the
two
candidates.

Clearly,
we
can
at
least
sometimes
get
around
the
effects
of
reference

magnetism.
Let’s
suppose
that
it
is
true
that
there
are
some
properties
that
are

more
natural
than
other
properties.
This
is
a
quite
plausible
claim.
The
color
red

seems,
intuitively,
like
a
more
natural
kind
than
the
disjunctive
color
red-‐or-‐
green.
Red
things
are
more
similar
to
each
other
along
the
dimension
of
color

than
are
things
that
have
the
disjunctive
color
red-‐or-‐green.
It
seems
plausible
to

think
that
if
the
dispositions
of
our
linguistic
community’s
use
of
the
term
‘red’

were
such
that
they
were
imprecise
between
picking
out
red
and
red-‐or-‐green,

then
the
naturalness
of
red
would
help
determine
it
as
the
content
of
the
term

‘red’.
However,
it
seems
less
plausible
to
say
that
the
linguistic
community
could

not,
if
they
wanted
to,
use
the
term
‘red’
to
pick
out
the
disjunctive
color
red-‐or-‐
green.
(Whether
or
not
we
actually
do
this
sort
of
thing
is
another
question.
It

might
be
that
the
type
of
concerted
effort
needed
to
pick
out
weird
disjunctive

properties
just
is
not
something
that
a
linguistic
community
can
muster
up,

practically
speaking.
This
does
not
mean
it
is
impossible,
in
a
broader
sense.)

52

In
fact,
it
seems
as
though
we
can,
if
we
do
so
purposefully,
pick
out
all

sorts
of
unnatural
kinds
and
properties,
especially
when
we
attempt
to
do
so
as

individuals
or
members
of
small
groups.
We
just
have
to
be
clear
about
our

intentions.
Intuitively,
being
very
clear
about
our
intentions
should
allow
us
to

pick
out
any
weird
kind
of
property
we
wish
to.
For
instance,
if
I
want
to
pick
out

the
property
of
being
in
Paris
or
being
an
elephant
or
being
the
number
seven,
it

seems
that
all
I
need
to
do
is
make
my
intentions
clear
that
I
meant
to
pick
out

that
property
with
the
term
‘the
property
of
being
in
Paris
or
being
an
elephant

or
being
the
number
seven’.
So,
even
if
our
ordinary
language
terms
tend
to
pick

out
the
more
natural
kinds
or
properties
(perhaps
even
due
to
some
general

intention
we
have
to
do
so),
it
would
be
a
truly
radical
version
of
reference

magnetism
that
says
we
cannot
pick
out
less
natural
properties
if
we
try
hard

enough
on
the
individual
level.
Sider
might
want
to
take
such
a
view.
But
it
seems

as
though
it
would
be
difficult
to
justify.

Given
a
less
radical
sort
of
reference
magnetism
(one
according
to
which

we
can
pick
out
less
natural
kinds/properties/relations,
if
we
try
hard
enough),

we
have
a
model
for
modifying
Hirsch’s
and
Manley’s
views.
For
Hirsch,
imagine

that
each
speaker
in
some
dispute
is
embedded
in
a
linguistic
community
with
his

dispositions
to
use
the
terms
of
the
dispute.
For
Manley,
consider
each
speaker
as

the
restricted
semantic
supervenience
base
for
the
terms
of
the
dispute.
Then,

take
seriously
the
dispositions
that
each
speaker
has
to
insist
on
applying
some

term
to
cases
that
are
not
instances
of
some
natural
kind/property/relation.

(This
might
end
up
needing
to
be
an
insistence
on
the
part
of
the
speaker
to
apply

53

the
term
to
multiple
instances
of
some
less
natural
kind/property/relation.)
In

Hirsch’s
scenario
the
communities
centered
around
the
disputants
should
mean

different
things
in
case
they
are
insistent
enough
in
their
application
of
terms
to

instances
of
less
natural
kinds/properties/relations.
Reference
magnetism

should
be
able
to
do
the
work
that
it
maybe
normally
does.
In
Manley’s
scenario,

we
consider
just
what
each
disputant
means
when
we
treat
them
alone
as

semantic
supervenience
bases
and
take
their
insistence
to
apply
terms
to
less

natural
kinds
seriously
in
the
way
just
mentioned.

Even
if
we
assume
a
radically
strong
sort
of
reference
magnetism,

however,
one
according
to
which
we
cannot
pick
out
unnatural
properties,

merely
verbal
disputes
of
the
more
subtle
kind
seem
possible.
What
seems
most

important
is
that
the
disputants
are
attached
to
using
the
terms
of
the
dispute
in

fundamentally
different
ways.
This
is
a
strong
intuition.
It
is
clearly
most
useful
to

come
up
with
a
way
to
get
more
specific
about
how
the
disputants’
usages
differ

from
one
another.
And
that
is
something
that
I
am
attempting
to
do
in
this

project.
But
the
difficulty
of
coming
up
with
a
useful
account
does
not
lessen
the

strength
of
the
intuition.

A
way
for
Hirsch’s
view
to
accommodate
a
strong
version
of
reference

magnetism
might
be
to
ask
us
to
go
to
another
possible
world
in
which
reference

magnetism
does
not
hold
and
in
which
the
speaker
is
embedded
in
a
community

of
people
relevantly
like
him.
Sider
might
respond
that
there
is
no
possible
world

in
which
reference
magnetism
does
not
hold.
This
is
a
claim
for
which
he
needs
to

argue.
And
it
is
not
clear
that
it
would
be
enough
for
him
to
establish
that
there
is

54

no
metaphysically
possible
world
in
which
reference
magnetism
does
not
hold.
It

might
be
that
he
would
need
to
establish
that
there
is
no
epistemically
or

conceptually
possible
world
in
which
reference
magnetism
does
not
hold.

Manley
might
be
able
to
ask
the
reader
to
ignore
the
effects
of
reference

magnetism
in
just
the
way
that
he
asks
the
reader
to
ignore
the
social
factors
that

help
determine
content.
Unless
Sider
wanted
to
say
that
these
best
candidate

properties
(or
relations
or
objects)
are
the
only
candidates
for
meaning
(which
he

explicitly
says
he
does
not),
it
seems
open
to
both
Hirsch
and
Manley
to
talk

about
what
properties
(or
relations
or
objects)
are
picked
out
by
the
terms
of

some
dispute,
given
the
speakers’
dispositions
to
use
the
terms.
And
if
the
reader

feels
uncomfortable
talking
about
the
public
terms
picking
out
(or
referring
to
or

expressing)
meanings
that
are
not
their
public
meanings,
then
perhaps
we
can

utilize
some
terms
of
art
that
run
parallel
to
those
terms.
On
such
a
view,
we

would
talk
about
the
terms
picking
out*
(or
referring*
to
or
expressing*)
some

meaning*
that
is
different
from
the
public
meaning
of
the
terms
in
question.
21

6.
CONCLUSION

The
reader
should
now
have
a
sense
of
the
general
kind
of
dispute
that
I
wish
to

focus
on
in
this
project.
It
is
important
to
remember
that
the
term
‘merely
verbal

dispute’
is
not
the
focus
here.
If
one
does
not
think
that
the
arguably
non-‐
substantive
disputes
in
section
2
of
this
chapter
should
be
called
merely
verbal,

that
is
fine.
The
term
is
more
just
to
give
a
intuitive
jumping
off
point
for
the

reader.
(And
many
will
think
it
applies,
I
believe.)
What
is
important
is
that
there

21

This
is
my
attempt
to
briefly
articulate
an
idea
that
David
Manley
has

mentioned
in
conversation.

55

is
some
kind
of
possibly
non-‐substantive
kind
of
dispute
instantiated
by
those

examples
and
that
this
kind
of
dispute
can
potentially
be
described
by
some

theory.
The
theories
discussed
in
the
latter
part
of
this
chapter
should
be
thought

of
as
giving
the
reader
a
sense
of
the
landscape
of
the
literature
on
that
kind
of

dispute.
Moving
forward,
I
will
utilize
some
of
the
tools
given
to
us
by

Hirsch/Manley
view
when
discussing
different
issues
that
arise
when
reflecting

upon
this
kind
of
dispute.

Also,
one
might
wonder
what
the
scope
of
the
project
of
mere
verbalists
is.

One
might
ask
if
this
is
a
strategy
that
these
people
wish
to
employ
in
every
area

of
philosophy
or
just
in
some.
I
think
the
answer
to
this
question
depends
on

which
philosopher
we
are
talking
about.
Hirsch
seems
to
think
that
the
general

dispute
between
platonists
and
nominalists
about
the
existence
of
numbers
is
not

merely
verbal.
He
does
not
make
an
argument
for
this,
but
merely
makes
the

claim.
Chalmers
seems
to
think
that
philosophy
is
riddled
with
merely
verbal

disputes.
He
claims
that
he
suspects
they
happen
in
every
branch
of
the

discipline.
I
happen
to
think
that
there
is
not
reason
to
rule
out
any
branch
of

philosophy
as
one
in
which
merely
verbal
disputes
might
occur.
I
do
not
think
it

is
necessary
to
make
strong
claims
about
where
we
ought
to
look
for
merely

verbal
disputes.
Later
in
this
project
I
take
the
position
(along
with
Matti
Eklund

and
Mark
Balaguer)
that
disputes
of
a
certain
sort
(ontological
disputes)
are
not

merely
verbal.
This
position
goes
against
the
position
that
Hirsch
takes.
So,
again,

there
are
a
variety
of
positions
that
mere
verbalists
(or
those
sympathetic
to
the

general
mere
verbalist
project)
might
take.

56

CHAPTER
3
–

CARNAP
AND
HIRSCH

I.
INTRODUCTION

The
purpose
of
this
chapter
is
to
compare
and
distinguish
the
Hirsch-‐style

characterization
of
philosophical
merely
verbal
disputes
(which
I
take
to
be
the

leading
22

contemporary
view)
from
Carnap’s
characterization
of
metaphysical

disputes
as
meaningless
pseudo-‐disputes.
Hirsch
(2008)
23

claims
that
his
view
is

roughly
Carnapian
with
some
important
differences.
It
is
important
to
inform
the

readers
of
my
project
who
might
suspect
that
Hirsch’s
view
(and
contemporary

views
like
it)
are
just
versions
of
Carnap’s
view
of
ontological
disputes
of
the

ways
in
which
they
are
onto
something
and
of
the
ways
in
which
they
are

incorrect.
I
will
first
introduce
and
describe
Carnap’s
theory.
Then
I
will
briefly

re-‐characterize
Hirsch’s
view
of
certain
philosophical
disputes
as
merely
verbal.

The
following
two
sections
consist
of
my
drawing
out
similarities
and
differences

between
the
two
views.
Finally,
I
will
argue
for
the
conclusion
that
Hirsch’s

theory
is
better
than
Carnap’s.

II.
CARNAP’S
VIEW

The
purpose
of
this
section
is
to
describe
Carnap’s
basic
view
of
philosophical

pseudo-‐disputes.
The
task
of
fitting
and
contrasting
this
view
of
his
with
Hirsch’s

view
of
merely
verbal
disputes
will
be
taken
up
in
sections
IV
and
V.

Carnap
(1956,
1959)
thinks
that
ontological
questions
such
as
the

questions
concerning
whether
or
not
physical
things
(in
general),
numbers,
or

22

Manley’s
view
is
a
version
of
Hirsch’s.

23

“Ontology
and
Alternative
Languages,”
p.
1.

57

properties
exist
can
be
interpreted
in
a
couple
of
different
ways.
On
one
reading

of
these
types
of
questions
(which
he
calls
internal
questions),
he
takes
the

answer
to
the
question
to
be
the
affirmative,
physical
things
numbers
and

properties
do
exist.
On
another
reading
(what
he
calls
external
questions),
he

takes
the
theoretical
questions
to
be
lacking
in
cognitive
content
and
having
no

answer.
And
he
takes
there
to
be
a
practical
question
in
the
neighborhood
of
the

theoretical
question
that
serves
as
the
only
candidate
for
a
meaningful
question

that
is
being
asked
in
such
a
situation.

Carnap
views
us
as
reasoning
from
within
frameworks
that
are
languages

(or
language
fragments)
with
rules
about
how
to
use
the
terms
of
the
language

(or
language
fragments).
These
rules
tell
the
speaker
of
the
language
in
what

situations
to
apply
terms
and
when
to
refrain
from
applying
them.
For
instance,

in
English,
when
we
are
asked
the
question
‘What
is
the
sum
of
2
and
3?’
the
rules

of
the
language
tell
us
to
respond
with
‘5’.
Or
when
presented
with
sensory

evidence
of
a
desk
before
us,
the
rules
of
the
language
tell
us
to
apply
the
term

‘desk’
to
what
we
see.
Once
one
has
a
grasp
of
the
relevant
rule
certain
questions

can
be
seen
as
having
trivial
answers.

Our
language
about
physical
things,
numbers,
and
properties
are
all
part

of
our
general
framework
(or,
perhaps,
are
individualized
but
compatible

frameworks
unto
themselves).
The
questions
that
we
ask
from
within
the

frameworks
are
sensible,
even
if
sometimes
trivial.
Those
asked
in
a
way
that
can

be
considered
external
to
the
framework,
not
in
accordance
to
the
rules
of
use
for

the
terms
of
the
language,
can
be
divided
into
two
categories:
(1)
meaningless

58

questions
that
have
no
content
and
no
real
theoretical
answer,
and
(2)

meaningful
practical
questions
about
which
framework
to
adopt
between

multiple
options.
For
Carnap,
certain
metaphysical
disputes
seem
sensible
on

their
face,
but
are
ultimately
not
meaningful
questions
about
theoretical
facts.

They
seem
initially
sensible
due
to
the
fact
that
they
are
asked
using
sentences

that
can
be
used
to
ask
internal
questions.
However,
upon
reflection,
they
turn

out
to
be,
at
best,
practical
questions
about
what
framework
to
adopt,
given
our

purposes.

To
take
an
example,
consider
the
question
of
whether
or
not
numbers

exist.
Consider
two
philosophers
Barkla
and
Bross.
Barkla
claims
that
the
number

2
does
not
exist.
Bross
claims
that
it
does.
They
engage
in
a
dispute
over
the

matter,
making
traditional
nominalist
and
platonist
arguments
for
their

respective
positions.
They
take
themselves
to
be
debating
a
serious
philosophical

question
that
has
to
do
with
the
structure
of
the
world.
It
feels
deep
to
them,
as

though
there
must
be
a
true
philosophical
answer
to
the
question
‘Does
the

number
2
exist?’
Carnap
says
that
they
are
not
actually
having
a
real
dispute.

They
are
having
a
pseudo-‐dispute
due
to
the
fact
that,
in
the
deep
theoretical

sense
that
they
intend
to
ask
the
question,
it
has
no
real
meaning
or
cognitive

content.
And
there
is
no
real
answer.
They
are
wasting
their
time
arguing
over

nothing.
In
another
sense,
the
less
deep,
less
philosophical
sense,
Carnap
says

that
Bross
is
correct.
Of
course
the
number
2
exists,
he
says.
Competently

assenting
to
the
sentence
that
expresses
that
claim
is
tied
up
in
an
intimate
way

with
the
adoption
of
the
standard
linguistic
framework
that
we
use.
(Or,
perhaps,

59

if
the
speakers
are
uttering
sentences
from
within
different
frameworks,
they

each
say
something
true
in
each
framework).
And
what
is
more,
in
the
only
other

sense
in
which
Barkla
and
Bross
can
be
disagreeing,
that
is
in
the
practical
sense

about
which
framework
to
adopt,
one
with
numbers
or
one
without
numbers,

Bross
is
correct
as
well.
In
order
to
do
our
best
science,
it
seems
as
though
we

need
to
include
mathematical
language
in
our
linguistic
framework.
24

For
Carnap,

this
is
the
standard
according
to
which
we
should
adopt
our
framework.

Carnap’s
bottom
level
theoretical
motivation
for
taking
this
general

framework-‐oriented
stance
towards
these
questions
is
his
verificationism.
He

thinks
that
sentences
(and
sets
of
sentences)
have
cognitive
content
only
if
they

are
verifiable
or
analytic.
In
order
for
sentences
about
the
world
to
have
meaning,

we
must
be
able
to
verify
whether
or
not
they
are
true.
Sentences
about
the

empirical
world
must
be
empirically
verifiable
(at
least
in
principle)
in
order
to

have
cognitive
content.
Analytic
sentences
can
have
cognitive
content,
insofar
as

they
can
(given
the
general
linguistic
rules
and
the
rules
associated
with
the

terms
contained
within
them)
be
established
as
true
or
not.
Carnap
is
committed

to
a
strong
version
of
analyticity.
He
takes
the
analytic
to
be
identical
with

necessity
and
the
a
priori.
These
kinds
of
statements,
on
his
view,
do
not
tell
us

anything
about
the
world.
And
we
can
know
them
to
be
true
given
a
proper

understanding
of
the
meanings
of
our
terms.

24

If
this
is
a
controversial
statement,
the
view
that
I
am
attributing
to
Carnap

about
the
necessity
of
mathematics
for
our
best
science,
then
we
can
suppose

that
I
am
merely
giving
something
that
Carnap
might
say.

60

Importantly,
ontological
questions
such
as
the
questions
about
whether
or

not
the
external
world,
numbers,
or
properties
exist
are
not
verifiable.
The

existence
of
the
external
world,
for
instance,
is
something
that
we
take
as
given

(in
a
sense
of
‘given’
that
is
compatible
with
our
not
having
a
belief
with
content

in
the
external
world)
before
any
attempt
to
empirically
verify
any
claim.
If
we
do

not
take
it
as
given,
then
we
do
not
have
the
resources
with
which
to
verify
any

claim.
Taking
the
question
of
whether
or
not
the
external
world
exists
as
an

internal
question,
all
that
we
need
to
do
is
take
in
the
evidence
of
our
senses
to

have
our
answer.
The
rules
of
the
language
that
tell
us
how
to
use
our
terms
and

say
that
we
should
apply
the
language
of
external
objects
and
things
(with
terms

like
‘chair’
and
‘desk’
and
so
on)
to
those
aspects
of
our
sensory
experience
that

seem
like
external
objects
or
things
(things
like
chairs
and
desks
and
so
on).

Taken
as
an
external
theoretical
question,
we
cannot
verify
either
the
affirmative

or
the
negative
answer
to
the
question.
The
rules
of
the
language
do
not
tell
us

how
to
answer
the
question
of
whether
or
not
these
objects
or
things
really
exist.

So,
given
verificationism,
the
question
has
no
cognitive
content.
The
only
non-‐
internal
question
that
we
might
encounter
that
has
content
is
the
one
about

whether
or
not
some
framework
is
more
useful.

To
get
clearer
on
this
last
point,
consider
two
general
theories,
the

standard
realist
framework
with
respect
to
the
external
world
and
the

Berkeleyan
theory
that
all
of
what
seems
to
be
the
external
world
is
actually
just

a
product
of
mind.
Our
evidence
for
each
of
these
theories
is
equal.
Every

experience
we
have
supports
the
realist
theory
just
as
much
(and
no
more)
as
it

61

supports
the
Berkeleyan
theory.
There
is
a
sense
in
which
these
theories

represent
different
frameworks,
different
ways
of
describing
our
experiences.

For
Carnap,
the
two
theories
do
not
differ
in
content
due
to
the
fact
that
they
are

equally
supported
by
the
evidence.
For
him,
the
only
question
we
can
ask,
with

respect
to
evaluating
them,
is
which
one
is
better
for
our
goals.
And
insofar
as
it
is

easier
for
us
to
use
the
realist
framework
for
our
empirical
investigations,
that
is

the
framework
that
we
should
adopt.

In
contrast
to
the
question
of
the
existence
of
the
external
world,
the

question
about
the
existence
of
numbers,
when
asked
from
within
a
framework

(as
an
internal
question),
is
purely
analytic
for
Carnap.
Purely
mathematical

claims
(as
opposed
to
claims
that
are
partially
mathematical
and
partially

empirical)
are
not
empirical
claims.
Since
they
are
not
verifiable,
if
they
are
to

have
meaning
for
him,
they
must
be
analytic.
If
the
framework
uses
mathematical

language,
then
numbers
trivially
exist.
If
it
does
not,
then
they
trivially
do
not

exist.
(Or,
at
the
very
least,
it
is
not
trivial
that
they
do
exist.)
The
same
holds
with

any
other
internal
question
having
purely
to
do
with
numbers
(such
as
questions

about
relations
between
numbers
or
sums
of
numbers).
It
follows
from
the
very

adoption
of
a
framework
with
mathematical
language
that
numbers
exist
(again,

in
a
way
that
is
consistent
with
that
which
is
adopted
not
having
content).
But

when
asked
in
an
external
theoretical
way,
there
is
no
way
to
verify
an
answer
to

the
question
of
whether
numbers
exist
and,
so,
no
way
to
make
any
real
sense
of

the
question.
The
question
has
no
content
and
no
answer.
Again,
the
only
sensible

62

question
in
the
neighborhood
is
whether
or
not
it
is
most
useful
to
adopt
such
a

framework.

A
similar
(and
more
brief
this
time)
story
can
be
given
about
Carnap’s

view
of
properties.
Property
talk
is
a
part
of
our
standard
framework
and
seems

to
help
us
empirically
investigate
the
world.
There
is
no
framework
that
does
not

have
property
terms
in
it
and
works
better
for
us
given
this
goal.
25

Some
property

statements
are
trivial
and
analytic,
such
as
the
sentence
‘properties
exist’.
Some

follow
from
empirical
evidence
and
the
rules
of
the
language,
such
as
(when

pointing
to
two
oranges)
the
sentence
‘these
two
oranges
have
a
property
in

common’.
That
sentence
analytically
entails
that
there
is
a
property
that
these

oranges
have
in
common.

Given
this
general
view,
it
seems
that
we
should
not
take
seriously,
as

being
of
a
factual
nature,
the
disputes
between
philosophers
about
the
existence

of
the
external
world
or
numbers.
What
we
should
probably
say
about
those

philosophers
that
engage
in
such
disputes
is
that
they
are
not
really
disagreeing

about
anything
factual.
At
most,
they
are
disagreeing
about
the
practical
matter
of

whether
or
not
the
standard
frameworks
are
ones
that
should
be
adopted,
given

our
purposes.
(The
purposes
in
question
could
be
related
do
doing
good
science

or
achieving
some
other
practical
goal.
For
Carnap,
it
seems
as
though
the
correct

standard
to
measure
these
frameworks
by
is
what
is
needed
to
do
our
best

science.)
But,
really,
the
philosophers
are
not
making
meaningful
claims
of
the

25

This
is
an
assumption
that
I
make
for
the
purpose
of
explaining
Carnap’s
view

and
how
he
accepts
properties.

63

sort
that
can
be
evaluated
as
true
or
false
26
.
And
since
they
are
not
making
such

claims,
they
cannot
truly
be
said
to
engage
in
a
substantive
dispute.

III.
HIRSCH’S
VIEW

As
discussed
in
a
previous
chapter,
Hirsch’s
27

view
of
merely
verbal
disputes
asks

us
to
imagine
each
disputant
as
embedded
in
linguistic
communities
the

members
of
which
share
his
dispositions
to
use
the
terms
of
the
dispute.
If,
when

imagined
as
such,
the
speakers
do
not
mean
the
same
thing
by
the
disputed

sentence
(and
so
do
not
disagree
when
using
it),
then
the
dispute
is
merely

verbal.

For
example,
imagine
two
children,
one
American
and
one
British,
arguing

over
the
truth
of
the
sentence
‘football
is
played
with
a
round
ball’.
One
has
in

mind
American
football
(because
that’s
the
only
sense
of
‘football’
he
has)
while

the
other
has
in
mind
soccer
(the
only
sense
of
‘football’
that
she
has).
If
we

imagine
them
as
embedded
in
two
different
linguistic
communities,
as
Hirsch

would
like
us
to,
they
would
mean
two
different
things
by
the
sentence
‘football
is

played
with
a
round
ball’
28
.
Each
considered
as
the
center
of
a
separate
linguistic

community,
the
American
disagrees
with
the
claim
that
American
football
is

played
with
a
round
ball
and
the
Briton
agrees
with
the
claim
that
soccer
is.
In

26

This
is
not
to
imply
that
all
meaningful
claims
can
be
evaluated
as
true
or
false.

Imprecise
claims
can
have
content
even
if
they
are
not
always
true
or
false.

27

Hirsch
(2011)

28

It
is
a
nice
feature
of
Hirsch’s
theory
that
it
captures
this
dispute
whether
the

term
‘football’
means
something
different
in
the
mouths
of
these
children
or
not.

If
it
is
ambiguous
in
the
public
language
(which
is
probably
the
right
thing
to
say),

we
can
still
imagine
each
child
in
his
own
community
and
they
mean
different

things
in
that
situation.
If
it
is
not
ambiguous,
then
they
mean
different
things
in

the
imagined
situation.
Hirsch
wins
either
way.

64

other
words,
they
are
not
really
disagreeing
when
considered
in
this
way.
The

only
thing
generating
the
dispute
is
their
differing
usages
of
the
term
‘football’.

One
might
think
that
it
is
relevant
that
the
above
is
a
case
involving

ambiguity,
but
it
is
not
relevant.
We
can
imagine
a
case
in
which
the
term
with

respect
to
which
the
disputants
semantically
deviate
is
unambiguous.
Consider

the
case
with
Jenny
and
Jackson
from
Chapter
2.
It
is
a
dispute
between
two

people
over
whether
or
not
a
particular
drinking
vessel
made
of
glass
is
a
cup.

Jenny
says
that
it
is,
by
uttering
the
sentence
‘The
drinking
vessel
in
front
of
us
is

a
cup’.
Jackson
says
that
it
is
not,
by
denying
that
sentence.
Jackson
says
that
cups

cannot
be
made
of
glass,
that
if
something
is
made
of
glass
then
it
is
not
a
cup.

Jenny
says
that
cups
can
most
certainly
be
made
of
glass.
If
we
imagine
each
as

the
center
of
a
linguistic
community,
they
express
different
claims
by
the

disputed
sentence
(and
other
sentences
containing
the
term
‘cup’).
Roughly

speaking,
Jenny
makes
a
claim
about
all
cup-‐like
objects,
even
those
made
of

glass.
And
Jackson
makes
a
claim
about
all
non-‐glass
cup-‐like
objects.
These

claims
do
not
contradict
each
other.
What
generates
the
dispute
is
the
difference

in
the
way
in
which
the
two
people
use
the
term
‘cup’.

Above
are
everyday,
non-‐philosophical
examples
of
merely
verbal

disputes.
(Or,
at
least,
disputes
that
Hirsch’s
theory
generates
as
merely
verbal

disputes.)
As
mentioned
earlier,
Hirsch
thinks
that
some
philosophical
disputes

are
merely
verbal
as
well.
An
example
of
a
dispute
that
he
takes
to
be
merely

verbal
is
the
dispute
about
the
existence
of
mereological
sums.
Consider
the

following
dispute
between
our
philosopher-‐friends
Barkla
and
Bross.
They
are

65

standing
in
a
room
before
a
table.
The
table
has
two
plates
on
it
(and
no
other

non-‐complex
objects).
The
plates
are
separate
from
each
other
and
from
the

table.
(That
is,
they
are
not
glued
to
each
other
or
the
table,
or
anything
of
that

sort.)
Barkla
says
that
there
are
merely
two
objects
(the
two
plates)
on
the
table.

Bross
disagrees.
He
says
that
there
are
more
than
just
two
objects.
There
are

three;
29

there
are
the
two
plates
and
there
is
the
mereological
sum
that
is

composed
of
the
two
plates.
According
to
Hirsch
(2008),
this
is
a
merely
verbal

dispute.
If
Barkla
and
Bross
were
embedded
in
their
own
linguistic
communities

(in
the
way
described
above)
they
would
not
be
expressing
contradictory

propositions
when
assenting
to
or
denying
the
sentence
‘there
are
only
two

objects
on
the
table’.
On
Hirsch’s
view,
he
identifies
the
quantifier
as
that
which

the
two
philosophers
in
such
a
dispute
are
using
differently.
And
he
takes
it
to
be

the
case
that
all
that
can
settle
the
dispute,
insofar
as
it
can
be
settled,
is
which

philosopher
is
using
the
term
correctly.
(More
specifically,
whichever

philosopher
is
using
the
term
in
accordance
with
English
is
correct.)

Now
that
we
have
something
of
a
grasp
of
what
the
views
of
Carnap
and

Hirsch
are,
I
will
move
on
to
comparing
and
contrasting
them.
In
the
following

section,
I
will
discuss
the
main
ways
in
which
the
two
views
are
similar.
In
section

V,
I
will
discuss
the
main
ways
in
which
they
are
different.

29

For
the
sake
of
simplicity,
I
am
restricting
Barkla’s
view
to
there
being
three

objects
on
the
table.
Many,
if
not
most,
philosophers
that
believe
in
mereological

sums
would
say
that
there
are
many
more
than
three,
since
they
would
take
the

parts
of
the
plates
(and
combinations
of
those
parts)
to
be
objects
as
well.
The

essence
of
the
dispute
is
captured
here,
though.

66

IV.
SIMILARITIES
BETWEEN
CARNAP
AND
HIRSCH

One
might
wonder
what,
at
the
end
of
the
day,
is
the
real
difference
between

these
views
of
Carnap
and
Hirsch.
They
initially
seem
to
be
quite
similar
in

certain
ways.
And
that,
I
believe,
is
because
they
are.
In
this
section
I
will
discuss

the
ways
in
which
the
views
are
similar
to
each
other.

Both
Carnap’s
and
Hirsch’s
views
are
deflationary.
They
both
say
that

certain
disputes
that
seem
to
be
substantial
are,
in
fact,
less
substantial
than
they

seem.
(This
is
not
to
say
that
they
agree
on
exactly
which
philosophical
disputes

are
less
substantial
than
they
seem.)
As
mentioned
above,
Carnap
says
that

certain
philosophical
disputes
are
not
the
real
theoretical
disputes
that
they
seem

to
be.
They
are
pseudo-‐disputes
in
which
the
disputants
are
not
making

meaningful
claims.
Similarly,
Hirsch
thinks
of
certain
philosophical
disputes
that

they
are
merely
verbal
and
are
generated
by
people
using
terms
in
some

fundamentally
different
way.
This
is
the
general
and
obvious
way
in
which
the

views
are
similar.
However,
they
are
similar
in
a
more
specific
way,
as
well.

Both
Carnap
and
Hirsch
rely,
broadly
speaking,
on
different
languages
(or

linguistic
frameworks)
in
which
some
disputed
sentence
of
a
suspect
dispute

comes
out
as
true
or
not
true.
For
instance,
Carnap
says
that
a
sentence
like
‘there

is
a
number
greater
than
100’
comes
out
as
trivially
true
in
any
framework

according
to
which
the
sentence
‘there
are
numbers
that
are
greater
than
100’

comes
out
as
true.
(These
would,
presumably,
be
any
frameworks
that
use

numerals
designating
numbers
greater
than
100.)
Let
us
consider
a
possible

example
to
make
things
clearer.

67

Consider
two
speakers
operating
from
within
different
frameworks.

Person
A
operates
from
within
a
framework
in
which
the
numbers
go
above
100.

Person
B
operates
from
within
a
framework
in
which
the
numbers
do
not
go

above
100.
Let
us
also
assume
that
everything
else
about
their
respective

linguistic
frameworks
is
the
same.
The
only
difference
is
with
respect
to
their

mathematical
language.
Assume
that
each
is
competent
with
the
terms
in
his

linguistic
framework.
For
person
A,
the
question
asked
using
the
sentence
‘is

there
a
number
greater
than
100?’
is,
trivially,
that
there
is.
For
person
B
the

answer
to
the
question
expressed
by
that
same
sentence
is,
trivially,
that
there
is

not.
If
person
A
and
person
B
get
into
a
dispute
over
the
sentence
‘there
is
a

number
greater
than
100’,
they
do
not
disagree
about
any
theoretical
facts
about

numbers.
If
they
are
both
treating
the
question
of
whether
or
not
such
a
number

exists
as
an
internal
question
(let
us
assume
they
are
somehow
unaware
of
the

fact
that
they
are
operating
from
within
different
frameworks),
then
what
they

are
each
saying
is
trivially
true
in
their
own
framework.
If
they
are
treating
it
as
a

deeper,
philosophical
question,
then
their
sentences
fall
flat.
They
express

nothing
of
meaning,
due
to
the
fact
that
they
are
being
used
in
a
way
that
is
not
in

accordance
with
the
rules
of
either
framework.
At
best,
we
can
consider
person
A

and
person
B
as
disagreeing
about
the
practical
question
of
which
framework
is

better
to
use.
This,
as
mentioned
before,
is
something
that
might
be
settled
by

reference
to
which
framework
works
better
for
doing
our
best
science.
(How
it
is

best
decided
is
less
important
here
than
the
fact
that
I
might
be
decided
by

reference
to
some
practical
goal.)

68

This
situation
feels
quite
similar
to
one
with
the
plates
on
the
table
from

the
previous
section.
Imagining
Barkla
and
Bross
in
the
situations
that
Hirsch

asks
us
to
imagine
them,
we
have
two
speakers
speaking
different
languages.
The

sentence
under
dispute
‘there
are
only
two
objects
on
the
table’
expresses
a

trivial
truth
in
the
language
of
Barkla
and
expresses
a
trivial
falsehood
in
the

language
of
Bross.
There
may
be,
as
Hirsch
says,
some
actual
linguistic
facts
that

settle
the
dispute.
And
this
is
analogous,
it
seems,
to
the
only
sense
in
which
the

dispute
between
person
A
and
person
B
can
be
settled.
There
is
an
obvious
sense,

in
both
cases,
in
which
the
disputants
are
missing
each
other.
They
are
not

speaking
the
same
language
in
some
sense.
(Even
though,
in
the
case
of
Barkla
and

Bross,
they
are
speaking
the
same
public
language.)

Carnap
focuses
his
view
of
pseudo-‐disputes
on
cases
of
ontological

disputes.
But
one
might
think
that
his
general
system
can
be
used
to
give
a

somewhat
plausible
explanation
for
what
happens
in
other
types
of
disputes.

Matti
Eklund
(2008)
30

applies
Carnap’s
way
of
thinking
of
ontological
disputes
to

a
non-‐ontological
dispute
over
whether
or
not
the
tomato
is
a
fruit.
He
does
this

by
identifying
the
three
Carnapian
ways
in
which
a
dispute
over
the
English

sentence
‘the
tomato
is
a
fruit’
can
be
a
dispute
(or
pseudo-‐dispute).
It
can
be
an

internal
dispute,
considered
as
a
dispute
over
whether
or
not
the
sentence
comes

out
true
in
English
(given
the
rules
of
the
language
and,
perhaps,
the
relevant

empirical
data
about
tomatoes
and
fruit).
Or,
the
dispute
can
be
an
external

pragmatic
dispute
over
whether
or
not
we
should
(given
our
purposes)
adopt
a

30

“Carnap
and
Ontological
Pluralism,”
p.
5.

69

framework
according
to
which
the
sentence
‘the
tomato
is
a
fruit’
comes
out
true.

Finally,
it
could
be
seen
as
an
external
theoretical
dispute,
in
which
the
disputants

are
arguing
not
about
whether
or
not
the
sentence
comes
out
as
true
in
English
or

if
some
framework
or
the
other
is
more
pragmatically
useful.
They
are
arguing

about
whether,
independent
of
those
concerns,
tomatoes
really
are
fruit.
And
this

seems
(in
a
way
that
is
consistent
with
Carnap’s
view
of
this
option’s
analog
with

respect
to
ontological
disputes)
to
not
really
be
a
dispute
at
all.
It
is
not
very
clear

at
all
what
the
question
really
amounts
to.
This
apparent
dispute
seems
to
be
a

pseudo-‐dispute.

It
seems
that
a
similar
sort
of
thing
can
be
done
with
our
previous

examples
such
as
the
one
between
Jane
and
Joe
in
the
last
section.
Instead
of

imagining
these
two
in
their
own
linguistic
communities,
let
us
consider
the
idea

that
they
operate
from
within
different
frameworks.
(This
is
a
slightly
different

way
of
thinking
of
the
internal
version
of
this
dispute
than
the
version
in
the

previous
paragraph.
The
internal
dispute
can
be
had,
it
seems,
between
two

speakers
from
within
the
same
framework
or
in
different
frameworks.
In
the
case

of
the
former,
the
rules
of
the
shared
framework
settle
the
dispute.
In
the
case
of

the
latter,
it
seems
as
though
both
speakers
are
correct
in
their
own
frameworks.)

According
to
the
rules
of
Jane’s
framework,
if
a
drinking
vessel
is
made
of
glass,

then
it
is
not
a
cup.
According
to
the
rules
of
Joe’s
framework,
if
a
drinking
vessel

is
made
of
glass,
it
can
be
a
cup.
Each
says
something
trivially
true,
from
within

their
own
framework
when
Jane
says
that
the
glass
vessel
before
them
is
not
a

cup
or
when
Joe
says
that
it
is
a
cup.
Or,
perhaps,
they
are
arguing
over
the

70

pragmatic
question
of
which
framework
is
more
useful,
the
one
according
to

which
cups
can
be
made
of
glass
or
the
one
according
to
which
they
cannot
be

made
of
glass.
And
if
they
get
into
a
‘deeper’
sort
of
dispute,
about
whether
or
not

the
object
is
really
a
cup,
then
they
are
engaged
in
a
meaningless
pseudo-‐dispute.

Furthermore,
it
seems
as
though
a
similar
story
can
be
told
with
respect
to

the
example
in
the
previous
section
concerning
the
American
and
the
Briton

debating
over
football.
The
claim
here
is
not
that
this
is
how
Carnap
intended
his

theory
to
be
used.
It
is
merely
that
this
seems
to
be
a
plausible
and
natural

extension
of
his
theory.
And
this
extension
of
his
theory
gives
a
plausible
(even
if

incorrect)
account
of
merely
verbal
disputes.
Given
the
fact
that
Carnap’s
view

can
plausibly
fit
these
other
sorts
of
disputes,
it
seems
even
more
similar
to

Hirsch’s
view,
which
practically
seems
built
for
these
cases.

These
are
the
main
similarities
between
the
views
of
Carnap
and
Hirsch.

To
review,
the
two
main
similarities
are
(i)
each
of
the
views
says
that
there
is
a

sense
in
which
the
disputants
(in
these
sorts
of
pseudo
or
merely
verbal

disputes)
are
speaking
different
languages.
And
each
says
that,
given
the
different

languages
(or
frameworks),
the
sides
that
are
taken
by
the
different
disputants

are
trivially
correct
(in
some
sense).
Lastly,
each
of
the
views
takes
there
to
be

some
sort
of
substantive
dispute
happening
alongside
these
pseudo
or
merely

verbal
disputes.
With
Carnap
the
substantive
dispute
is
a
practical
one
about

which
framework
to
adopt.
With
Hirsch
the
substantive
dispute
is
a
semantic
one

about
which
disputant
(if
either)
is
speaking
the
public
language
correctly.

71

V.
DIFFERENCES
BETWEEN
CARNAP
AND
HIRSCH

In
this
section
I
will
discus
the
differences
between
Carnap’s
view
and
the
view
of

Hirsch.
While
the
views
are
similar
in
the
ways
discussed
in
the
previous
section,

they
have
clear
and
important
differences.

The
first
and
possibly
most
important
difference
between
the
two
views
is

that
Carnap
thinks
that
pseudo-‐disputes
are
without
content,
with
respect
to
the

theoretical
questions
around
which
they
center.
Two
philosophers
arguing
about

the
existence
of
numbers
are
not
saying
anything
of
meaning
when
one
uses
the

sentence
‘numbers
exist’
and
the
other
uses
the
sentence
‘numbers
do
not
exist’.

While
it
may
be
reasonable
to
attribute
different
views
to
these
two
philosophers

about
which
framework
is
better,
given
their
positions
in
the
seemingly

theoretical
dispute,
that
does
not
give
the
sentences
above,
as
used
by
them,

meaning.

On
the
other
hand,
Hirsch
thinks
that
the
disputed
sentences
in
merely

verbal
disputes
can,
and
often
do,
have
meaning.
Taking
the
case
from
section
III

with
the
two
plates
on
the
table,
Hirsch’s
view
says
that
the
disputed
sentence

‘there
are
merely
two
objects
on
the
table’
means
that
there
are
merely
two

objects
on
the
table.
Barkla
and
Bross
express
contradictory
propositions
when

Barkla
says
that
there
are
merely
two
objects
on
the
table
(by
sincerely
uttering

the
sentence
‘there
are
merely
two
objects
on
the
table’)
and
Bross
disagrees
by

saying
that
there
are
not
merely
two
objects
on
the
table
(by
sincerely
uttering

the
sentence
‘there
are
not
merely
two
objects
on
the
table’).
Hirch’s
view

captures
our
strong
intuition
that
when
two
philosophers
seem
to
disagree
about

72

whether
or
not
there
are
merely
two
objects
on
some
table
(in
the
manner
in

which
Barkla
and
Bross
do)
there
is
a
very
real
sense
in
which
they
are
actually

disagreeing
about
whether
or
not
there
are
merely
two
objects
on
some
table.

This
stands
in
stark
contrast
to
Carnap’s
claim
that
when
two
philosophers

engage
in
an
ontological
dispute
such
as
the
one
about
whether
or
not
numbers

exist,
they
do
no
really
disagree
about
anything
theoretical
(and
the
sentences

that
they
sincerely
utter
do
not
express
contradictory
claims).

While
there
is
some
sense
in
which
both
views
have
the
disputants
in

pseudo
or
merely
verbal
disputes
speaking
different
languages,
the
different

ways
in
which
each
view
characterizes
the
sense
in
which
this
happens
is

importantly
different.
It
is
the
difference
between
actually
different
linguistic

frameworks
(Carnap)
and
imagined
different
linguistic
communities
(Hirsch).

This
ties
into
the
issue
mentioned
in
the
previous
paragraph
of
Hirsch
having
the

resources
to
account
for
our
intuition
that
the
disputes
he
calls
merely
verbal
are

substantive
in
some
way.
Given
that
the
mechanism
by
which
he
characterizes

merely
verbal
disputes
has
us
imagine
what
the
disputants
would
mean
when

centers
of
their
own
linguistic
communities,
he
leaves
the
public
meaning
of
the

terms
alone.
The
terms
of
the
disputed
sentence(s)
mean
what
they
mean
in
the

public
language
and,
insofar
as
they
are
not
ambiguous
in
some
way
that

generates
the
dispute,
this
allows
the
disputants
to
actually
theoretically

disagree.

The
aspect
of
each
theory
that
accounts
for
the
trivialness
of
the
claims
of

each
disputant
(see
section
IV)
seems
to
be
different.
In
Carnap,
as
his
theory
is

73

stated
by
him
31
,
it
is
the
rules
of
the
language
and
analyticity
that
help
explain

why
at
least
some
internal
questions
are
trivially
32

true
(or
false).
For
him,
the

sentence
‘there
is
a
number
greater
than
100’
is
analytically
true
when
viewed
as

a
statement
made
within
the
rules
of
the
framework.
On
the
other
hand,
the

trivialness
of
ontological
claims
according
to
Hirsch
seems
to
be
generated
by
a

different
source.

One
way
to
characterize
what
generates
the
trivialness
of
the
claims
in

Hirsch’s
imagined
languages
is
that
the
disputants
treat
the
sentences
that
they

take
to
be
true
in
a
meaning-‐constitutive
way
33
.
For
instance,
one
might
think

that
Joe
and
Jane
from
section
III
have
a
practical
disagreement
with
respect
to

how
they
treat
the
sentence
‘cups
cannot
be
made
of
glass’.
Joe
does
not
treat
this

sentence
in
a
meaning-‐constitutive
way.
Jane
does.
This
does
not
mean
that
Jane

believes
the
sentence
to
follow
from
the
meaning.
Rather,
it
means
that
she
treats

the
sentence
in
the
way
that
a
linguistic
community
would
need
to
in
order
for
a

sentence
to
be
meaning-‐constitutive.
This
is
important
to
note,
given
a
possibly

31

The
purpose
of
this
chapter
is
to
distinguish
Carnap’s
view,
as
stated
by
him,

from
Hirsch’s
view.
Carnap
relies
on
analyticity
to
build
his
theory
of

philosophical
pseudo-‐disputes.
Soames
(2008)
argues
that
he
does
not

necessarily
need
to
do
this.
His
view
can
be
revised,
taking
on
certain
Quinean

commitments
and
remain
essentially
the
same,
but
without
a
reliance
on
his

ambitious
version
of
analyticity.
However,
it
still
seems
worth
noting
that

Carnap’s
stated
view
is
different
than
Hirsch’s
in
its
reliance
on
this
version
of

analyticity.

32

I
say
‘at
least
some’
here
due
to
the
fact
that
it
seem
as
though
it
might
be
that

there
are
internal
questions
that
are
quite
difficult
to
answer,
given
certain

complex
calculations
that
would
need
to
be
made.
It
feels
not
quite
right
to
call

those
truths
trivial.
But
perhaps
I
am
missing
something
here.

33

I
need
to
get
clearer
about
what
it
is
exactly
to
treat
a
sentence
in
a
meaning-‐
constitutive
way.
This
notion
might
end
up
playing
a
role
in
what
I
take
to
be
the

best
characterization
of
merely
verbal
disputes
(one
that
is
not
identical
to

Hirsch’s
or
Manley’s
modification
of
Hirsch’s
view).

74

understandable
concern
that
the
notion
of
meaning-‐constitutiveness
is
too

intimately
tied
up
with
analyticity
for
this
aspect
of
Hirsch’s
view
to
count
as
a

way
in
which
the
view
is
different
from
Carnap’s
view.
Perhaps
for
a
sentence
to

be
meaning-‐constitutive,
it
must
be
analytic.
Or
perhaps
the
notion
of
meaning-‐
constitutiveness
is
defined
with
respect
to
analyticity
in
some
other
way.
In

either
case,
this
worry
seems
unfounded.
My
claim
here
is
not
that
Hirsch’s
view

relies
on
there
being
sentences
that
are
in
fact
meaning-‐constitutive.
Rather,
the

claim
is
that
his
view
perhaps
relies
on
the
idea
that
speakers
treat
certain

sentences
(the
ones
under
dispute)
in
a
particular
way
that
might,
given
enough

people
doing
it,
make
the
sentences
meaning-‐constitutive.
This
is
consistent
with

the
claim
that
there
are
not
enough
people
treating
any
sentence
in
this
way
to

make
any
sentence
actually
meaning-‐constitutive.
It
is
the
way
in
which
they

treat
the
sentences
that
is
important,
not
anything
intrinsic
to
the
nature
of
the

sentence
(or
its
meaning)
itself.

VI.
WHY
HIRSCH’S
VIEW
IS
BETTER

Hirsch’s
view
is
better
than
Carnap’s
for
multiple
reasons.
First,
it
captures
an

intuitive
and
ordinary
phenomenon,
merely
verbal
disputes.
This
is
a
kind
of

dispute
that
is
not
controversial
in
terms
of
its
existence.
We
all
accept
that

merely
verbal
disputes
happen
in
some
cases.
Hirsch
is
merely
claiming
that
the

class
of
merely
verbal
disputes
is
somewhat
larger,
and
contains
much
more

subtle
examples,
than
we
might
initially
think.
It
covers
merely
verbal
disputes
of

all
kinds,
from
the
everyday
‘football’
type
of
merely
verbal
dispute
to
the
more

subtle
examples
that
exist
in
philosophy.

75

Carnap-‐style
pseudo-‐disputes,
on
the
other
hand,
have
no
ordinary
and

uncontroversial
examples.
If
they
happen,
it
is
news
to
the
world
in
general,

philosophers
and
non-‐philosophers
alike.
While
it
is
true
that
Hirsch
accuses

philosophers
of
unknowingly
engaging
in
disputes
that
are
merely
verbal,
it

seems
as
though
he
is
more
generous
to
philosophers
than
is
Carnap.
And
this

seems
like
a
good
thing.
The
claim
that
philosophers,
who
pay
very
close

attention
to
what
they
say
and
what
they
mean,
routinely
get
into
disputes
in

which
they
say
nothing
of
meaning,
seems
quite
implausible
on
the
face
of
things.

And
while
Hirsch
makes
a
claim
that
philosophers
do
not
always
understand
that

they
are
engaging
in
a
merely
verbal
dispute,
the
level
of
subtlety
that
his
merely

verbal
disputes
can
exhibit
and
the
fact
that
they
are
consistent
with
the

philosophers
expressing
contradictory
claims
(as
we
intuitively
take
them
to
in

the
first
place)
puts
him
in
a
better
position
than
Carnap.

Lastly,
Carnap
builds
currently
controversial
views
about
verificationism

and
analyticity
into
his
theory.
Insofar
as
these
are
vulnerable
to
attack
in

contemporary
philosophy,
they
serve
as
weaknesses
of
his
view.
It
seems
as

though
verificationism,
at
the
very
least,
is
a
theory-‐killer
in
contemporary

philosophy.
If
a
theory
is
built
on
verificationism,
it
does
not
have
a
firm

foundation
and
is
vulnerable
to
a
possibly
devastating
attack.
Analyticity
is

possibly
a
trickier
matter.
The
version
of
analyticity
that
Carnap
accepts
is
a

stronger
version
than
what
is
accepted
by
fans
of
analyticity
today.
And
insofar
as

we
are
comparing
Carnap’s
views
as
stated
by
him
to
that
of
Hirsch,
it
seems
this

fact
leaves
the
former
vulnerable
in
a
way
that
he
latter
is
not.
Hirsch
is
not

76

committed
to
verificationism
or
the
strong
version
of
analyticity
that
Carnap

likes.
Any
attack
on
either
verificationism
or
this
version
analyticity
will
strike
a

blow
to
Carnap
but
will
miss
Hirsch
completely.
Thus,
Hirsch’s
view
is
better.

77

CHAPTER
4
–

I.
INTRODUCTION

In
this
chapter
I
will
focus
primarily
on
arguments
against
the
view
that

ontological
disputes
are
merely
verbal.
Ontological
disputes,
such
as
the
dispute

over
whether
there
exist
mereological
sums,
are
generally
thought
to
be
the
best

candidates
for
merely
verbal
disputes.
As
discussed
in
chapter
3,
Eli
Hirsch
is
a

main
proponent
of
diagnosing
such
disputes
as
merely
verbal.

First,
I
will
give
a
brief
recap
of
Hirsch’s
view.
Then
I
will
focus
on
Matti

Eklund’s
arguments
against
mere
verbalism
about
ontological
disputes
and
some

responses
to
those
arguments.
Second,
I
will
focus
on
Mark
Balaguer’s
argument

against
mere
verbalism
about
ontological
disputes.
I
end
up
deciding
that

Eklund’s
arguments
can
be
avoided
by
mere
verbalists.
Balaguer’s
argument,

however,
cannot.

II.
HIRSCH
RECAP

Before
going
into
Eklund
and
Balaguer’s
arguments
against
mere
verbalism
about

ontological
disputes,
it
seems
worthwhile
to
give
a
brief
recap
of
Hirsch’s
view,

given
that
he
is
the
main
proponent
of
mere
verbalism
about
ontological

disputes.
Hirsch
takes
ontological
disputes
to
be
merely
verbal.
He
believes
that

there
are
different
senses
of
the
term
‘exist’
that
are
available
to
us,
in
some

sense.
(At
the
very
least,
he
thinks
that
they
are
available
to
different
languages,

even
if
our
language
only
employs
one.)
So,
when
two
philosophers
disagree
over

whether
mereological
sums
exist
(for
instance),
Hirsch
interprets
them
as
both

saying
something
true
in
her
own
language.
One
uses
a
sense
of
‘exist’
that
allows

78

for
mereological
sums
and
the
other
uses
a
sense
that
does
not.
Thus,
they
do
not

really
disagree
in
some
sense,
since
on
some
level
they
are
not
expressing

contradictory
propositions
when
they
utter
the
sentences
that
make
up
the

dispute.
Another
way
to
put
this
is
to
say
that
Hirsch
believes
there
are
multiple

quantifiers
that
are
possible
for
languages
to
use.
It
is
his
view
that
philosophers

engaging
in
disputes
over
whether
or
not
there
are
mereological
sums
are
using

different
quantifiers.
He
thinks
that
were
philosophers
to
agree
on
one
quantifier,

then
they
would
not
disagree
about
whether
or
not
mereological
sums
exist.
If

they
chose
to
use
a
more
restrictive
quantifier,
one
that
allowed
fewer
objects
in,

then
the
philosophers
could
agree
that
mereological
sums
do
not
exist.
And
he

thinks
that
if
philosophers
were
to
use
a
quantifier
that
is
less
restrictive,
one

that
allowed
more
objects
in,
then
they
could
agree
that
mereological
sums
do

exist.
(Of
course,
I
am
speaking
somewhat
loosely
here.
A
quantifier
being
more

or
less
restrictive
is
not
always
going
to
affect
whether
or
not
it
is
accurate
to
say

that
mereological
sums
exist.
It
might
be
the
quantifier
is
allowing
some
other

type
of
object
in
(or
not
letting
it
in).
But
the
reader
should
interpret
me
in
the

above
passage
as
speaking
about
restrictiveness
of
the
quantifier
with
respect
to

mereological
sums.)

In
order
to
accommodate
externalist
concerns,
Hirsch
(and
Manley)
give

us
a
way
to
think
about
the
language
of
each
disputant
without
claiming
that
the

disputants
do
not
speak
the
same
language
at
all.
He
asks
us
to
imagine
each

disputant
as
the
semantic
base
of
her
own
community.
He
believes
that
when
two

philosophers
disagree
about
the
existence
of
mereological
sums,
each
is
using
her

79

terms
in
a
way
such
that
what
she
says
would
be
true
were
she
embedded
in
a

linguistic
community
that
speaks
exactly
like
her.
This
leaves
open
the
question

of
which
philosopher,
if
either,
speaks
truly
in
the
relevant
public
language
that

they
are
using
in
the
dispute.

Keeping
that
brief
recap
of
Hirsch’s
general
conception
of
merely
verbal

disputes
about
ontology,
let’s
move
into
Eklund’s
arguments
that
Hirsch’s
view
is

incorrect
and
that
ontological
disputes
are
not
merely
verbal.

III.
EKLUND’S
ARGUMENTS
AGAINST
ONTOLOGICAL
MERE
VERBALISM

Matti
Eklund
has
two
arguments
for
his
view
that
ontological
disputes
are
not

merely
verbal.
He
calls
one
of
them
the
semantic
argument.
34

This
argument
is

intended
to
apply
to
many
(maybe
all)
ontological
disputes.
For
the
purposes
of

this
chapter,
I
will
focus
on
one
of
the
examples
that
Eklund
uses
when
making

this
argument.
Eklund
is
addressing
what
he
calls
ontological
pluralists.
His

stated
opponents
are
Carnap,
Putnam,
and
Hirsch.
For
my
purposes,
I
will
focus

on
the
argument
as
it
pertains
to
Hirsch’s
view
that
there
are
different
senses
of

existence
and
that
the
use
of
these
different
senses
generates
merely
verbal

disputes
about
ontology.

To
get
us
started,
Eklund
asks
us
to
consider
incars.
An
incar
is
a
car
that

has
the
property
of
being
inside
a
garage
as
an
essential
property.
If
the
car
is

taken
outside,
then
the
corresponding
incar
no
longer
exists.
So,
let
the
name

‘Herbie’
refer
to
some
white
car
that
happens
to
be
inside.
And
let
the
name

‘Herbie*’
refer
to
the
corresponding
incar
(if
there
really
are
such
things
as

34

Eklund
(2008)
“The
Picture
of
Reality
as
an
Amorphous
Lump”

80

incars).
Imagine
two
philosophers,
Olaf
and
Manny,
having
a
dispute
about
the

existence
of
incars.
Specifically,
they
disagree
over
the
truth
of

(H)
Herbie*
is
white

Olaf
believes
that
sentence
(H)
is
false
because,
in
his
view,
the
singular
term
in

the
sentence
does
not
refer.
Manny
believes
it
is
true.
According
to
Eklund,
the

Hirschian
analysis
of
this
dispute
would
go
as
follows.
There
are
two
languages,
L

and
L*.
Olaf
speaks
language
L.
Manny
speaks
language
L*.
In
language
L,

sentence
(H)
is
false.
In
language
L*,
sentence
(H)
is
true.
Each
philosopher

speaks
truly
in
his
own
language.
Thus,
there
is
no
real
disagreement
between

them.
Eklund
takes
this
to
be
a
flawed
analysis
of
the
dispute.
In
fact,
he
thinks

that
it
is
impossible
for
sentence
(H)
to
be
true
in
language
L*,
but
false
in

language
L.
His
argument
for
this
position
goes
as
follows:

(1) For
a
sentence
of
the
form
‘F(a)’,
of
any
language,
to
be
true,
the
singular

term
‘a’
must
refer.

(2)
Hirsch
says
that
sentence
(H)
is
true
in
language
L*.

(3) But
that
would
mean
that
the
term
‘Herbie*’
refers.

(4) If
the
term
‘Herbie*’
refers,
then
Herbie*
exists.

Therefore,

(5) Sentence
(H)
cannot
be
false
in
language
L
(or
the
relevant
augmented

version
of
language
L,
i.e.,
L
supplemented
with
the
term
‘Herbie*’.).

Therefore,

(6) Hirsch’s
view
leads
to
the
conclusion
that
incars
exist
and
Olaf
is
mistaken.

81

According
to
Eklund,
the
above
argument
will
work
for
many
(or
all)
ontological

disputes
that
Hirsch
might
want
to
diagnose
as
merely
verbal.
And
it
will
always

lead
to
the
conclusion
that
the
maximal
ontology,
in
the
given
dispute,
is
the

correct
ontology.

Here
is
another
version
of
that
same
argument
that
Eklund
calls
the

proposition
argument
(2009,
p.
146):

(i) Propositions
exist
independently
of
how
we
choose
to
speak.

(ii) So
the
proposition
expressed
by
sentence
(H)
in
the
language
L*
exists

whether
anyone
speaks
L*.

(iii)
If
Hirsch’s
analysis
is
correct,
then
the
proposition
expressed
by

sentence
(H)
in
language
L*
is
true.

(iv)
But
if
sentence
(H)
is
true,
then
the
proposition
expressed
by
sentence

(H)
in
language
L*
exists,
and
is
true,
independently
of
whether
the

language
is
actually
used.

(v) If
that
proposition
is
true,
then
Herbie*
exists.

Therefore,

(vi)
If
Hirsch’s
analysis
is
correct,
then
speakers
of
both
languages
should

say
that
Herbie*
exists.

On
both
versions
of
this
argument,
Eklund
concludes
that
Hirsch’s
analysis
leads

to
the
result
that
the
maximal
ontology
is
the
correct
ontology
and,
so,
the

dispute
is
not
merely
verbal.

Hirsch
responds
to
Eklund
by
claiming
that
premise
(1)
of
Eklund’s
first

version
of
the
argument
is
false.
He
draws
a
distinction
between
strong
and
weak

82

readings
of
premise
(1).
He
edits
Eklund’s
original
premise
(1)
by
inserting

bracketed
text.
Hirsch’s
strong
version
of
Eklund’s
premise
(1)
reads
as
follows:

(1a)
For
a
sentence
of
the
[syntactic]
form
‘F(a)’,
of
any
[possible]

language,
to
be
true,
the
[syntactically]
singular
term
‘a’
must
refer.

He
calls
the
premise,
as
stated,
a
strong
T-‐sentence.
It
is
a
strong
T-‐sentence

because
it
is
about
any
language.
A
weak
version
of
premise
(1)
that
Hirsch
gives

looks
like
this:

(1b)
For
a
sentence
of
the
form
‘F(a)’,
of
this
language,
to
be
true,
the

singular
term
‘a’
must
refer.

This
version
is
weak
because
it
is
only
about
the
language
in
which
it
is
uttered,

instead
of
any
possible
language.
For
any
language,
if
premise
(1)
is
true
in
it,

then
premise
(1b)
is
going
to
be
true
as
well.
Languages
in
which
premise
(1)
is

true
Hirsch
calls
strong
T-‐languages.
However,
languages
in
which
premise
(1b)

is
true,
but
premise
(1)
is
not,
he
calls
weak
T-‐languages.
According
to
Hirsch,

English
is
a
weak
T-‐language.
Thus,
when
we
are
using
English,
we
should
deny

the
truth
of
premise
(1)
and
affirm
the
truth
of
premise
(1b).
But
Eklund
needs

premise
(1)
to
make
his
argument
work.
Premise
(1b)
would
not
serve
as
an

acceptable
substitute.

Eklund
is
relying
on
the
fact
that
we
can
conceive
of
possible
languages

that
are
more
ontologically
expressive
than
what
Hirsch
takes
English
to
be.
And

he
combines
this
agreed
upon
fact
(and
by
this,
I
mean
that
it
is
agreed
upon

between
Eklund
and
Hirsch)
with
premise
(1)
to
get
to
his
conclusion
that
the

more
ontologically
inclusive
view
is
correct.
If
it
is
merely
true
that
in
our

83

language
sentences
of
the
form
‘F(a)’
are
true
only
if
the
term
‘a’
refers,
then
it

might
not
be
true
that
other
languages
work
that
way.
And
if
other
languages
do

not
work
that
way,
then
perhaps
the
possible
language
that
is
seemingly
more

ontologically
inclusive
does
not
work
that
way.
It
might
be
such
that
in
that

language
the
singular
term
in
a
sentence
of
the
form
‘F(a)’
does
not
need
to
refer

in
order
for
the
sentence
to
come
out
as
true.
While
premise
(1)
might
seem

intuitive
at
first
glance,
Hirsch
asks
Eklund
to
give
a
reason
in
support
of
the

assumption
that
premise
(1)
is
true.
In
order
to
adequately
respond,
Eklund

might
need
to
argue
for
his
premise
in
the
face
of
Hirsch’s
doubts.

One
might
respond
to
Hirsch
by
claiming
that
he
is
being
uncharitable
to

Eklund.
One
target
of
attack
is
Hirsch’s
modification
of
Eklund’s
premise
(1).
On

the
one
hand,
the
fact
that
Hirsch
makes
the
premise
more
explicitly
about
any

possible
language
seems
fine.
It
would
be
surprising
were
Eklund
to
object
to
that

aspect
of
Hirsch’s
modification.
However,
it
is
not
clear
why
Hirsch
should
think

that
Eklund
is
trying
to
talk
about
the
syntactic,
rather
than
logical,
form
of
the

relevant
sentences
(in
the
given
languages).
To
make
this
clearer,
there
seem
to

be
two
interpretations
of
Eklund’s
premise
(1)
that
might
be
thought
of
as
on
the

table.
The
first
interpretation
is
to
take
Eklund
as
talking
about
syntactic
form
of

the
relevant
sentences.
Another
interpretation
is
to
take
Eklund
as
talking
about

the
logical
form
of
the
relevant
sentences.
It
seems
implausible
that
Eklund’s

intention
is
for
the
reader
to
make
the
former
interpretation,
given
how

implausible
such
an
interpretation
would
make
the
premise
and
given
that
there

is
another
interpretation
that
would
make
the
premise
more
plausible.

84

It
is
actually
not
entirely
clear
what
Hirsch
means
by
the
term
‘syntactic

form’.

Let
me
start
by
interpreting
him
in
a
somewhat
simplistic
way
and
arguing

my
point
(that
Hirsch
is
misinterpreting
Eklund)
on
the
assumption
that
this
is

the
right
way
to
interpret
Hirsch.

Then
after
that,
I
will
argue
that
even
if
this
is

not
the
right
interpretation
of
Hirsch—even
if
we
should
interpret
Hirsch’s
use
of

the
term
‘syntactic
form’
in
some
other
way—he
is
still
misinterpreting
Eklund.

In
other
words,
I
will
argue
that
no
matter
how
we
interpret
Hirsch
here,
he
is

misinterpreting
Eklund.

On
the
simplistic
interpretation
of
Hirsch,
‘syntactic
form’
means

something
like
surface
form.
To
see
what
I
mean
by
‘surface
form’,
consider
the

following
sentence:

(S)
Santa
Claus
is
fat.

The
surface
form
of
sentence
(S)—as
I’m
using
the
term—is
‘Fa’.
But
it
is

plausible
that
for
at
least
some
utterances
of
sentence
(S),
what
the
speaker
is

saying
is
something
like
according
to
the
fiction
of
Santa
Claus,
Santa
is
fat.
So,
the

logical
form
of
such
an
utterance
of
sentence
(S)
would
be
‘According
to
R,
Fa’.

Consider
an
example:
Imagine
two
speakers,
Annie
and
Judd,
who
are

talking
about
the
story
of
Santa
Claus.
Annie
is
American
and
grew
up
with
the

story.
She
celebrated
Christmas
while
growing
up
and
learned
as
a
child
that
it

was
just
a
story
and
not
real.
Judd
grew
up
in
a
place
where
people
never
even

spoke
of
Santa
Claus.
He
asks
Annie
to
tell
him
about
the
story
because
he
is

interested
in
her
culture.
After
Annie
tells
Judd
the
basic
story
he
asks
her
if
Santa

is
skinny
or
fat.
Annie
responds
by
uttering
the
following
sentence:

85

(S)
Santa
is
fat.

On
a
plausible
interpretation
of
this
utterance,
given
this
context,
what
Annie
is

really
saying
when
she
answers
Judd’s
question
with
sentence
(S)
is
the

following:

(S*)
According
to
the
fiction
of
Santa
Claus,
Santa
is
fat.

Another
way
to
say
this
is
that
while
the
syntactic
form
of
Annie’s
utterance
of

sentence
(S)
is
‘F(a)’,
the
logical
form
is
‘According
to
R,
F(a)’.
This
seems
like
a

possible
case.
In
fact,
it
seems
like
a
case
that
could
easily
happen
in
the
actual

world.
And
it
is
clearly
a
case
in
which
what
I
am
calling
the
surface
syntactic

form
does
not
match
up
with
the
logical
form.

So,
now
we
might
ask
what
the
better
interpretation
of
Eklund’s
premise

(1)
is.

When
Eklund
talks
about
form,
is
he
talking
about
logical
form
or
what
I

am
calling
surface
form?

It
seems
much
more
plausible
to
take
him
as
talking

about
logical
form.
It
would
be
implausible
to
hold
that
the
sentence
‘Santa
is
fat’,

being
of
the
syntactic
form
‘F(a)’,
cannot
be
true
in
any
possible
language
unless

the
term
‘Santa’
refers.
Moreover,
when
we
interpret
premise
(1)
as
being
about

logical
form,
it
comes
out
as
true.
So
it
seems
that
if
we
wish
to
be
charitable

towards
Eklund,
then
it
is
better
to
interpret
premise
(1)
as
being
about
logical

form
than
as
being
about
surface
form.

On
the
other
hand,
one
might
think
that
interpreting
Hirsch’s
use
of

‘syntactic
form’
to
mean
surface
form
seems
uncharitable,
given
how
clear
it
is

that
Eklund
does
not
mean
to
be
talking
about
surface
form
in
his
premise
(1).

Perhaps
he
means
to
be
speaking
of
some
other
kind
of
syntactic
form,
something

86

that
is
distinct
from
logical
form
and
surface
form.
But
it
does
not
matter,
because

as
long
as
he
means
anything
other
than
logical
form,
then
he
is
misinterpreting

Eklund.
Let’s
take
another
look
at
premise
one:

(1)
For
a
sentence
of
the
form
‘F(a)’,
of
any
language,
to
be
true,
the

singular
term
‘a’
must
refer.

The
phrase
“of
the
form
‘F(a)’”
is
standardly
used
by
philosophers
to
speak
about

logical
form.
It
is
not
standardly
used
by
philosophers
to
speak
about
syntactic

form.
Unless
Eklund
makes
clear
that
he
is
speaking
about
something
other
than

logical
form
here,
it
just
seems
obvious
that
he
is
talking
about
logical
form.

In
sum,
when
Hirsch
talks
about
the
syntactic
form,
he
either
means

logical
form
or
something
else.
If
he
means
anything
else,
then
it’s
a
bad

interpretation
of
Eklund.
If
he
means
logical
form,
then
his
attack
on
Eklund’s

argument
fails,
because
if
we
read
premise
(1)
as
being
about
logical
form,
then
it

seems
true.

I
believe
that
this
is
a
good
objection
to
Hirsch’s
particular
version
of
mere

verbalism.
It
seems
as
though
Hirsch
cannot
allow
some
object
to
be
a
referent
of

a
term
in
some
language
without
allowing
that
object
into
his
overall
ontology.

However,
I
am
going
to
end
up
arguing
that
mere
verbalists
can
adopt
a
different

version
of
the
view
(distinct
from
the
version
of
mere
verbalism
that
Hirsch

seems
to
endorse)
and
that
if
they
do
this,
they
can
avoid
Eklund’s
argument.

Before
I
discuss
the
response
to
Eklund
that
I
think
can
work,
I
want
to

discuss
another
strategy
that
Hirsch
might
pursue.
Hirsch
might
say
that
there

are
not
only
different
notions
of
existence
in
the
different
possible
languages,
but

87

that
there
are
also
different
notions
of
reference.
But
in
the
end,
I
do
not
think

that
this
is
a
sustainable
line
of
thought.

Let’s
take
a
moment
to
consider
what
would
be
involved
in
a
theory
that

included
talk
of
different
notions
of
reference,
notions
related
to
different
notions

of
existence.
It
seems
as
though
this
would
become
a
mess
rather
quickly.
Take

languages
L
and
L*
again.
On
such
a
view
language
L
might
involve
reference
as

we
know
it,
the
normal
semantic
relation
that
holds
between
terms
of
our

language
and
the
objects
they
pick
out.
On
the
other
hand,
Language
L*
might

involve
reference*.
This
would
be
a
relation
that
functions
like
reference

functions
in
language
L,
but
it
might
allow
terms
of
language
L*
to
pick
out

objects
that
terms
of
language
L
do
not.
The
different
notions
of
existence
and
the

different
notions
of
reference
could
be
matched
up
with
one
another.
Thus,
in

language
L
you
would
have
objects
that
exist
and
to
which
terms
of
L
refer.
And
in

language
L*
you
would
have
objects
that
exist*
and
to
which
terms
of
L*
refer*.

These
objects
that
are
referents*
of
the
terms
of
language
L*
would
not
exist.

To
be
clear,
it
might
be
that
the
term
‘exists’
means
the
same
thing
in

languages
L
and
L*.
In
such
a
case,
someone
speaking
either
language
is
going
to

say
something
false
when
they
say
that
the
controversial
objects
‘exist’.
(Of

course,
it
is
also
possible
that
the
notion
of
exists*
is
picked
out
by
the
term

‘exists’
in
language
L*.
If
this
were
the
case,
then
a
speaker
might
truly
utter
some

sentence
about
how
these
objects
“exist”.)
It
would
be
technically
correct
to
say

that
they
would
not
exist
at
all,
given
how
the
notions
of
existence
and
reference

function
presumably
across
languages.
(That
is,
even
if
languages
other
than

88

language
L
were
augmented
with
our
notions
of
existence
and
reference,
the

notions
would
function
in
the
same
way,
it
seems.)
Remember,
the
notion
of

existence
and
the
notion
of
reference
are
what
we
focus
on
in
our
language,
on

this
picture.
These
other
notions
in
other
languages,
notions
such
as
existence*

and
reference*,
are
different
but
similar
enough
to
play
the
right
kind
of
roles
in

the
languages
that
utilize
them.
So
plenty
of
objects
that
can
be
said
to
exist*

cannot
be
said
to
exist.
To
add
one
more
layer,
we
can
imagine
yet
another

language,
L**.
This
language
has
corresponding
existence-‐like
and
reference-‐like

notions,
existence**
and
reference**.
And
parallel
things
can
be
said
about
that

language
and
those
notions.
It
seems
unlikely
that
there
would
only
be
two

languages
with
which
we
could
plausibly
speak
about
the
world.
It
also
seems

unlikely
that
we
could
not
identify
more
and
more
expressive
(or
ontologically

inclusive)
languages.
If
Hirsch
wants
to
hold
his
ground,
he
would
need
to
posit
a

possibly
endless
number
of
existence-‐like
and
reference-‐like
notions.
And
that
is

to
say
nothing
of
any
other
notions
that
might
be
naturally
connected
to
our

notions
of
existence
and
reference.
In
short,
this
seems
like
a
distinctly

unpromising
strategy
for
Hirsch
to
take.

Let
me
turn
now
to
the
strategy
that
I
think
mere
verbalists
can
use
to

successfully
respond
to
Eklund’s
argument.
Hirsch’s
vulnerability
to
Eklund’s

argument
has
to
do
with
the
way
in
which
he
formulates
his
argument
for
mere

verbalism.
On
Eklund’s
interpretation,
Hirsch
puts
things
in
terms
of
how
the

different
existence-‐like
notions
operate
in
each
language
and
the
resulting
effects

of
their
rules
of
use.
However,
I
think
there
is
another
way
to
be
a
mere
verbalist

89

about
the
dispute
over
sentence
(H),
one
that
does
not
rely
on
talk
of
different

existence-‐like
notions,
and
I
think
that
if
mere
verbalists
endorse
this
other

version
of
the
view,
they
can
resist
Eklund’s
argument.

With
this
in
mind,

consider
the
following
version
of
mere
verbalism:

Sentence
(H)
says
different
things
in
languages
L
and
L*.

In
language
L,
it

says
what
it
seems
to
say,
namely,
that
Herbie*
is
white.
But
in
language

L*,
it
says
something
else.
More
specifically,
it
is
given
a
deflationist

reading
in
language
L*;
in
particular,
it
is
synonymous
with

(H*)
Herbie
is
inside
and
white.

So,
the
term
‘Herbie*’
does
not
function
in
language
L*
as
a
name.
In
other

words,
in
language
L*,
sentence
(H)
is
not
given
a
face-‐value
reading.

Therefore,
sentence
(H)
is
false
in
language
L
and
true
in
language
L*.
This

is
because
in
language
L,
the
truth
of
sentence
(H)
requires
the
existence

of
an
incar,
namely,
Herbie*,
and
in
language
L*,
sentence
(H)
does
not

require
the
existence
of
an
incar.

A
mere
verbalist
of
this
kind
could
resist
Eklund’s
argument
by
claiming
that
in

language
L*,
the
term
‘Herbie*’
does
not
refer
to
an
extra
object.
Rather,
in

language
L*,
the
only
thing
that
needs
to
exist,
in
order
for
sentence
(H)
to
be
true

is
Herbie.
35

I
am
not
going
to
further
discuss
this
response
to
Eklund
yet,
because
a

similar
response
will
arise
in
connection
with
Eklund’s
second
argument
below.

35

I
would
like
to
thank
Mark
Balaguer
(conversation)
for
bringing
up
this

response.

90

And
I
would
like
to
discuss
them
both
together.
So,
let’s
leave
this
this
response

on
the
table
for
now
and
move
on
to
Eklund’s
second
argument.

Eklund’s
second
argument
for
the
view
that
ontological
disputes
are
not

merely
verbal
is
called
the
sameness
argument.
One
might
formulate
the

argument
in
the
following
way:

(1) If
Hirsch’s
analysis
were
correct,
sentence
(H)
would
be
true
in

language
L
and
false
in
language
L*.

(2) If
that
were
true,
then
sentence
(H)
would
need
to
have
different
truth

conditions
in
languages
L
and
L*.

(3) But
if
sentence
(H)
had
different
truth
conditions
in
languages
L
and

L*,
then
it
would
have
different
meanings
in
L
and
L*.

Therefore,

(4) Hirsch
must
say
that
there
are
massive
differences
in
meaning

between
languages
L
and
L*.

(5) But
this
is
an
unattractive
consequence.

Therefore,

(6) Hirsch’s
theory
is
implausible.

A
similar
response
can
be
given
to
this
argument
as
was
given
to
the
last

argument.
If
mere
verbalists
give
up
the
Hirschian
quantifier
variance
way
of

formulating
their
view
and
adopt
the
alternative
way
of
formulating
their
view

described
above,
then
they
can
respond
as
follows:

Mere
verbalists
can
simply
accept
the
result
that
sentence
(H)
has

different
meanings
in
the
different
languages.
In
language
L,
sentence
(H)

91

means
what
it
looks
like
it
means,
namely,
that
Herbie*
is
white.
In

language
L*,
sentence
(H)
is
not
given
a
face-‐value
interpretation.
Rather,

in
language
L*,
it
means
that
Herbie
is
inside
and
white.
So,
the
mere

verbalist
can
just
accept
the
result
that
sentence
(H)
means
different

things
in
languages
L
and
L*.

There
are
costs
to
both
the
strategy
that
Eklund
takes
against
Hirsch
and

to
the
possible
mere
verbalist
response
to
Eklund.
It
seems
to
me,
however,
that

this
possible
mere
verbalist
response
to
Eklund
works
and,
thus,
that
mere

verbalism
about
ontological
issues
remains
a
live
option.

This
is
not
to
say
that
there
is
nothing
appealing
about
Eklund’s
general

argumentative
strategy.
Eklund’s
general
response
to
Hirsch
has
the
benefit
of

taking
the
semantics
of
the
disputed
sentences
at
face
value.
And
there
seems
to

be
some
reason
to
think
that,
all
things
equal,
we
should
want
to
interpret
our

sentences
in
a
face-‐value
way,
if
possible.
Doing
so
generates
the
most
intuitively

attractive
theories,
all
things
equal.
Also,
when
we
take
Hirsch
to
be
giving
a
face-‐
value
interpretation
to
the
disputes
sentences,
36

Eklund’s
strategy
seems
to
be

devastating.
It
is
difficult
to
see
how
Hirsch
could
read
the
disputed
sentences
in

the
different
languages
as
having
the
same
logical
structure
(e.g.,
as
being
of
the

logical
form
‘F(a)’)
without
committing
to
the
more
expansive
ontology.
At
this

point,
it
seems
worth
exploring
another
attempt
to
undermine
mere
verbalism

about
ontological
issues.

36

To
be
fair
to
Hirsch,
or
unfair
depending
on
how
we
look
at
it,
it
is
possible
to

interpret
him
as
sometimes
interpreting
disputed
sentences
at
face-‐value
and

sometimes
not.

92

IV.
BALAGUER’S
ARGUMENT
AGAINST
ONTOLOGICAL
MERE
VERBALISM

Mark
Balaguer
also
has
an
argument
for
the
view
that
ontological
disputes
are

not
merely
verbal.
He
argues
that
there
is
always
a
non-‐merely
verbal
dispute
to

be
had
when
we
are
talking
about
ontological
disputes
(whether
or
not
they

involve
any
two
actual
philosophers).
He
makes
a
distinction
between
what
he

calls
historical
verbalism
and
metaphysical
verbalism.
37

Historical
verbalism

(relative
to
a
given
ontological
issue)
is
the
view
that
typical
disputes
about
that

issue
between
certain
philosophers
are
merely
verbal.
Metaphysical
verbalism

(relative
to
a
given
ontological
issue)
is
the
view
that
a
dispute
about
that
issue

must
be
merely
verbal,
that
there
is
no
non-‐verbal
dispute
to
be
had
about
it.

(Balaguer
uses
‘non-‐verbal’
to
apply
to
disputes
that
are
neither
verbal
nor
about

meaning.)

The
distinction
here
is
an
obvious
but
important
one.
We
can
imagine
two

philosophers,
Sasha
and
Vlad.
Sasha
is
a
presentist.
He
thinks
that
only
present

objects
exist.
Vlad
is
a
non-‐presentist.
He
thinks
that
non-‐present
objects
exist,
as

well
as
present
objects.
Consider
the
sentence

(D)
Dinosaurs
exist.

Vlad
thinks
that
sentence
(D)
is
true.
Sasha
thinks
that
sentence
(D)
is
false.
But

as
I
am
constructing
the
case,
they
mean
different
things
by
sentence
(D),
in
the

Hirsch-‐Manley
sense.
In
Sasha’s
language,
sentence
(D)
means
that
dinosaurs

presently
exist
and
so
is
false.
In
Vlad’s
language,
sentence
(D)
is
synonymous

with

37

Eklund
makes
a
similar
distinction
and
points
out
(NDPR
review
of
Hirsch

(2012))
that
he
and
Balaguer
have
made
this
point.

93

(D*)
Dinosaurs
did
exist,
do
exist,
or
will
exist.

Both
would
agree
that
the
sentence
is
false
in
Sasha’s
language
and
true
in
Vlad’s

language.
So
the
only
reason
they
disagree
is
that
they’re
using
the
sentence

differently
in
the
Hirsch-‐Manley
sense.
Thus,
this
is
an
instance
of
a
dispute
over

temporal
ontology
that
is
merely
verbal.
According
to
historical
verbalism
about

temporal
ontology,
typically,
disputes
about
the
subject
are
merely
verbal
in

something
like
this
way.
According
to
metaphysical
verbalism,
there
is
no
non-‐
verbal
dispute
to
be
had
about
this
topic.
In
other
words,
any
dispute
we
might

have
about
this
subject
would
either
be
like
the
dispute
between
Sasha
and
Vlad

or
explicitly
about
meaning.
Similar
points
can
be
made
about
all
ontological

disputes.
Balaguer
argues
against
both
views
but
spends
most
of
his
time

focusing
on
metaphysical
verbalism.

Before
I
give
Balaguer’s
argument
against
metaphysical
verbalism,
I
will

lay
out
the
conceptual
framework
that
Balaguer
utilizes
for
his
argument.

Balaguer
creates
a
matrix
of
view
types.
The
matrix
takes
into
account
the

ontology
and
the
semantics
of
different
types
of
philosophical
views.
It
looks
like

this
38
:

ONTOLOGY

Thick

Thin

SEMANTICS

Thick

R

A

Thin

X

T

38

Balaguer
(unpublished)

94

Balaguer
cuts
the
conceptual
space
up
into
Thick
and
Thin
types
of
ontological

and
semantic
views.
A
thick
ontological
view,
in
a
given
domain,
is
one
that

allows
relevant
controversial
objects
(e.g.,
abstract
objects,
mereological
sums,

libertarian
free
human
choices,
moral
facts,
etc.)
into
its
ontology.
A
thin

ontological
view,
in
a
given
domain,
is
one
that
does
not
allow
the
relevant

controversial
objects
into
its
ontology.
Similarly,
a
thick
semantic
theory,
in
a

given
domain,
is
one
that
requires
the
relevant
thick
ontological
view
to
be
true

in
order
for
the
relevant
sentences
of
the
language
to
be
true.
And
a
thin
semantic

theory,
in
a
given
domain,
is
one
that
does
not
require
the
thick
ontological

theory
to
be
true
in
order
for
the
sentences
of
the
language
to
be
true.
And
so

each
type
of
view
in
the
matrix
(or
each
quadrant)
is
a
combination
of
a
type
of

semantic
theory
and
a
type
of
ontological
theory.
Balaguer
calls
views
in
the
top-‐
left
quadrant
robust
realist
views.
He
calls
views
in
the
top-‐right
quadrant
error

theories.
He
calls
views
in
the
lower-‐right
quadrant
thin-‐semantics
views.
And
he

takes
the
lower-‐left
quadrant
to
represent
a
type
of
view
that
virtually
no
one

endorses
(and,
so,
we
do
not
need
to
focus
on).

To
get
clearer
on
this
framework,
I
will
apply
it
to
an
example.
I
will
use
an

example
that
Balaguer
discusses
but
not
one
of
the
controversial
examples
that

are
the
focus
of
this
chapter
(in
other
words,
not
one
that
a
lot
of
people
have

thought
is
merely
verbal).
This
will
make
it
easy
to
bring
out
the
framework

because
the
example
is
very
clean.
Later,
when
I
get
into
the
argument,
I
will
use

one
of
the
more
controversial
examples.

95

Take
the
following
issue
that
Balaguer
talks
about,
the
dispute
about

abstract
objects
in
the
philosophy
of
mathematics.
Consider
the
following

sentence:

(M)
2
+
2
=
4.

Each
type
of
view
in
the
matrix
says
something
about
the
semantics
of
sentence

(M)
and
about
the
ontological
question
of
whether
or
not
abstract
objects
exist.

The
top-‐left
quadrant
represents
platonist
views.
Platonism
says
that
in
order
for

sentence
(M)
to
be
true,
there
need
to
be
abstract
objects,
and
there
are
abstract

objects.
The
top-‐right
quadrant
represents
fictionalist
views.
Fictionalism
says

that
in
order
for
sentence
(M)
to
be
true,
there
need
to
be
abstract
objects,
but

there
are
no
abstract
objects,
so
sentence
(M)
is
false.
The
lower-‐right
quadrant

represents
thin-‐semantics
views.
There
are
a
lot
of
views
of
this
kind
that
people

take
seriously
(e.g.,
psychologism,
physicalism,
if-‐then-‐ism,
etc.).
What
they
all

have
in
common
is
that
they
say
that
there
are
no
abstract
objects,
but
sentence

(M)
is
still
true
because
the
truth
of
sentence
(M)
doesn’t
require
the
existence
of

abstract
objects.
The
lower-‐left
quadrant
represents
views
that
are
not
taken

seriously.
A
view
of
this
kind
would
say
that
there
are
abstract
objects
but
they

are
not
required
for
the
truth
of
sentence
(M).

Now
let’s
take
a
look
at
Balaguer’s
argument
against
metaphysical
verbalism.

He
argues
that
for
any
ontological
dispute,
you
can
generate
a
merely
verbal

dispute
between
a
philosopher
who
takes
an
error
theory
to
be
true
and
a

philosopher
who
takes
a
thin-‐semantics
view
to
be
true.
But
more
importantly,

he
argues
that
you
can
generate
a
non-‐verbal
dispute
between
a
philosopher
who

96

takes
an
error
theory
to
be
true
and
a
philosopher
who
takes
a
robust
realist

view
to
be
true.
Also,
while
Balaguer
does
not
say
this,
we
can
generate
a
merely

verbal
agreement
between
a
philosopher
who
takes
a
robust
realist
view
to
be

true
and
a
philosopher
who
takes
a
thin-‐semantics
view
to
be
true.

Let’s
go
through
the
argument
slowly
using
the
temporal
ontology
dispute.

First
it
is
easy
to
see
how
we
can
describe
a
merely
verbal
dispute
about

temporal
ontology.
Consider
two
philosophers,
Vlad
and
Nadia.
Vlad,
who
we
met

before,
thinks
that

(D)
Dinosaurs
exist

is
true.
The
reason
he
thinks
that
sentence
(D)
is
true
is
that
he
believes
the

sentence
is
synonymous
with

(D*)
Dinosaurs
did
exist,
do
exist,
or
will
exist.

Nadia
is
a
presentist
and
she
believes
that
sentence
(D)
is
false.
Moreover,
Nadia

speaks
a
language
in
which
sentence
(D)
is
not
analytically
entailed
by
sentence

(D*).
She
also
thinks
that
sentence
(D)
does
not
analytically
entail

(D**)
Dinosaurs
exist
at
the
present
time.

Nadia
believes
that
in
order
for
sentence
(D)
to
be
true
(assuming
the
empirical

facts
that
dinosaurs
used
to
exist
but
do
not
exist
at
the
present
time),
reality

must
be
a
four-‐dimensional
block
such
that
the
times
at
which
dinosaurs
existed

are
just
as
real
as
the
present
time.
And,
so,
Nadia
thinks
that
sentence
(D)
is
false

because
she
believes
that
reality
is
not
a
four-‐dimensional
block.
Vlad
and
Nadia

speak
different
languages
in
the
Hirsch/Manley
sense
and,
so,
do
not
believe

contradictory
things
on
that
level.

97

It
is
equally
easy
to
describe
a
non-‐verbal
dispute
about
temporal
ontology

between
Nadia
and
Boris,
a
robust
eternalist.
Boris
speaks
the
same
language
as

Nadia,
in
the
Hirsch/Manley
sense.
Moreover,
he
shares
Nadia’s
beliefs
about

what
is
required
for
the
truth
of
sentence
(D),
but
he
also
believes
that
sentence

(D)
is
true
(because
he
believes
reality
is
a
four-‐dimensional
block
and
that

dinosaurs
are
somewhere
in
there).
So,
to
put
it
another
way,
Boris
believes
that

dinosaurs
exist
tenselessly.
This
seems
to
be
a
non-‐verbal
dispute
and
Balaguer

claims
that
this
kind
of
dispute
can
be
created
for
any
ontological
dispute.
The

formula
is
just
to
stipulate
two
philosophers
who
share
a
language,
in
the

Hirsch/Manley
sense,
that
has
a
thick
semantics.
One
has
a
thin
ontology
and
the

other
has
a
thick
ontology.
So,
the
dispute
will
be
between
an
error
theorist
and
a

robust
realist.
And
since
they
agree
on
the
semantics
and
disagree
on
the

ontology,
the
dispute
is
non-‐verbal.
Thus,
in
all
of
these
cases,
there
is
a
non-‐
verbal
dispute
to
be
had,
and
so
metaphysical
verbalism
about
ontological

disputes
is
false.

So,
Balaguer’s
idea
is
that
since
the
disputants
on
the
top
row
of
the
matrix

agree
on
the
semantics
they
cannot
be
having
a
merely
verbal
dispute;
and
since

the
disputants
in
the
right
column
have
the
same
ontology
and
differ
on
the

semantics,
their
dispute
must
be
merely
verbal.

Analogously,
one
could
turn
many
merely
verbal
disputes
(generally

described)
into
substantive
disputes
by
having
the
disputants
disagree
on
the

ontology
but
agree
about
the
semantics.
However,
this
is
not
as
interesting
of
a

fact.
Balaguer’s
point
is
that
insofar
as
there
is
some
substantive
dispute
in
the

98

neighborhood
of
a
purported
merely
verbal
dispute,
then
that
is
a
dispute
that

philosophers
can
reasonably
focus
on
without
worrying
about
engaging
in
a

pseudo-‐dispute.

I
take
Balaguer’s
argument
against
mere
verbalism
about
ontological
disputes

to
be
pretty
convincing.
However,
there
are
a
couple
things
worth
saying
here.

Balaguer’s
argument
obviously
is
not
aimed
at
merely
verbal
disputes
in
general.

So,
nothing
that
he
says
should
be
thought
to
hurt
mere
verbalism
about
non-‐
ontological
disputes.
Also,
it
does
not
affect
deflationism
in
general.
This
seems

worth
pointing
out.
It
seems
to
be
a
plausible
that
mere
verbalists
are
motivated

by
some
kind
of
deflationist
intuition
about
ontological
disputes.
I,
in
fact,
started

out
with
such
an
intuition
about
ontological
disputes.

The
sense
that
some
of
us
get
is
that
there
is
not
a
real
dispute
going
on
in

front
of
us
as
we
read
two
philosophers
(and
then
two
more
and
so
on)
argue

their
positions
on
either
side
of
these
disputes.
There
is
something
defective

about
the
disputes,
it
seems
to
us.
And
one
obvious
way
to
go
with
that
intuition

is
the
mere
verbalist
route.
The
idea
that
the
two
philosophers
(or
philosophers,

generally,
on
each
side
of
the
dispute
in
question)
are
talking
past
each
other
is
a

tempting
one.
And
we
follow
that
idea
out
to
its
logical
conclusions.
We
find

ourselves,
perhaps,
not
liking
what
we
see
when
we
run
into
an
argument,
such

as
Balaguer’s,
that
makes
it
quite
difficult
to
believe
that
mere
verbalism
is
the

correct
diagnosis
in
these
cases.
But
that
does
not
mean
that
the
initial
intuition

was
incorrect.
That
does
not
mean
that
there
is
not
something
defective
about

99

these
disputes.
It
merely
means
that
we
can
perhaps
rule
out
one
way
in
which

the
disputes
might
have
been
defective.

100

CHAPTER
5
–

I.
INTRODUCTION

In
the
last
chapter,
I
argued
that
the
argument
of
Balaguer
is
convincing
in

support
of
the
claim
that
ontological
disputes
are
not
merely
verbal.
Again,
what

is
interesting
about
this
is
that
ontological
disputes
are
generally
considered
the

best
candidates
for
merely
verbal
philosophical
disputes
-‐
even
by
those
who
do

not
think
they
are
merely
verbal.
I
believe
that
a
different,
but
broader
class
of

disputes
is
merely
verbal.
More
accurately,
I
believe
that
two
related
classes
of

disputes
are
merely
verbal.
The
first
class
contains
disputes
that
involve
clashing

intuitions
about
philosophically
relevant
cases.
I
will
call
these
I-‐disputes.
The

second
class
contains
disputes
over
necessary
or
sufficient
conditions
for
the

application
of
some
term.
I
will
call
these
disputes
S-‐disputes.

In
section
II,
I
will
give
the
reader
a
better
grip
on
the
notion
of
an
I-‐
dispute
and
the
notion
of
an
S-‐dispute.
In
section
III,
I
will
give
a
brief
argument

for
the
claim
that
a
certain
kind
of
philosophical
I-‐dispute
is
merely
verbal.
I

consider
the
claim
that
S-‐dispute
are
merely
verbal
to
be
much
more
interesting

than
the
claim
that
I-‐disputes
are
merely
verbal
and
so
will
focus
a
larger
portion

of
the
chapter
on
arguing
for
the
former
claim.
In
section
IV,
I
will
provide
four

different
arguments
for
the
claim
that
S-‐disputes
are
merely
verbal.

My
expectation
is
that
the
reader
will
be
more
inclined
to
be
sympathetic

to
my
claim
that
I-‐disputes
are
merely
verbal
than
they
will
be
to
my
claim
that
S-‐
disputes
are
merely
verbal.
It
is
important
to
note
that
the
arguments
for
each

conclusion
are
independent
of
each
other,
even
if
they
are
related
in
obvious

101

ways.
But
just
because
one
doubts
my
primary
claim
about
S-‐disputes
does
not

mean
that
she
should
feel
a
need
to
doubt
my
primary
claim
about
I-‐disputes.

And,
of
course,
the
reverse
is
true
as
well.
One
should
be
able
to
agree
with
me

about
S-‐disputes
even
if
she
does
not
agree
with
me
about
I-‐disputes.
(I
just
think

that
is
a
less
likely
scenario.)

II.
CHARACTERIZING
I-‐DISPUTES
AND
S-‐DISPUTES

Let
me
give
a
more
complete
formulation
of
what
an
I-‐dispute
is.
An
I-‐dispute
is
a

dispute
between
two
people
that
is
generated
by
a
difference
in
intuitions
about
a

case,
in
particular,
whether
or
not
some
term
applies
in
a
scenario.
For
example,

recall
Jenny
and
Jackson’s
dispute
over
whether
or
not
a
particular
drinking

vessel
counts
as
a
cup.
Jenny
thinks
it
is
a
cup
and
Jackson
thinks
it
is
not
a
cup.

They
have
differing
intuitions
about
whether
or
not
the
term
‘cup’
applies
to
that

particular
object.
This
is
an
ordinary
example
of
an
I-‐dispute.
In
philosophy,
I-‐
disputes
occur
as
well.
For
example,
a
compatibilist
about
free
will
and
a

libertarian
about
free
will
might
have
differing
intuitions
about
whether
or
not

the
term
‘free
will’
(or
the
terms
‘free’
or
‘freedom’)
apply
in
some
scenario

involving
a
fully
determined
agent
making
a
decision.
Philosophical
I-‐disputes

can
also
occur
with
respect
to
other
philosophically
interesting
terms,
like

‘reason’,
‘knowledge’,
‘justification’,
etc.

Now,
let
me
characterize
what
I
will
be
calling
S-‐disputes.
An
S-‐dispute
is
a

dispute
between
two
people
over
some
necessary
or
sufficient
condition
for

inclusion
in
some
category.
For
instance,
recall
again
Jenny
and
Jackson.
Their
I-‐
dispute
about
the
cup
is
tightly
related
to
their
S-‐dispute
about
whether
cups
can

102

be
made
of
glass.
Jenny
thinks
cups
can
be
made
of
glass,
and
Jackson
thinks
that

they
cannot.
In
philosophy,
S-‐disputes
clearly
occur
as
well.
For
example,
a

compatibilist
about
free
will
and
a
libertarian
disagree
about
whether
or
not
a

fully
determined
agent
can
have
free
will.
The
compatibilist
thinks
that
such
an

agent
can
have
free
will,
and
the
libertarian
thinks
such
an
agent
cannot
have
free

will.

Often
when
philosophers
engage
in
S-‐disputes,
they
are
looking
to
state

necessary
and
sufficient
conditions
for
inclusion
in
the
relevant
category.
When

they
do
this,
they
are
trying
to
answer
some
question
of
the
form
‘What
is
x?’,
or

‘What
is
an
x?’
For
example,
philosophers
engage
in
disputes
over
what
free
will

is,
what
a
reason
is,
what
knowledge
is,
and
so
on.
Let
me
get
a
bit
more
detailed

about
a
specific
example.
In
this
chapter,
I
will
often
focus
on
the
example
of
the

S-‐dispute
that
occurs
between
Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans
over
the
question,

‘What
is
a
reason?’
But
this
is
just
an
example.
I
could
use
other
examples,
like

‘What
is
free
will?’,
‘What
is
knowledge?’,
etc.

Humeans
about
reasons,
broadly
speaking,
think
a
reason
is
a
relation

that,
among
other
things,
is
“hooked”
into
the
agent
in
some
personal
way.
(The

way
reasons
are
hooked
into
us
is
generally
characterized
as
via
desires
or

interests
or
some
other
psychological
state.
In
this
chapter
I
will
sometimes
use

the
term
‘desire’
as
a
placeholder
for
any
candidate
that
the
Humeans
might
want

to
put
in
that
slot.)
Non-‐Humeans,
broadly
speaking,
think
that
it
is
not
true
that
a

reason
must
be
hooked
into
an
agent
in
this
way.
That
is,
on
the
former
view,
in

order
for
a
particular
person
to
have
a
reason
to
act
in
a
particular
way,
she
must

103

have
some
desire
or
interest
that
is
served
by
acting
in
that
particular
way.
On

the
latter
view,
no
such
desire
or
interest
(or
psychological
state)
is
needed
for

the
reason
to
act
in
that
particular
way
to
be
possessed
by
the
agent.

On
a
plausible
account
of
what
Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans
about
reasons

fundamentally
argue
about,
they
are
arguing
over
the
correct
answer
to
the

question
‘What
is
a
reason?’
This
is
not
to
say
that
there
is
nothing
about
which

Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans
agree
with
respect
to
this
question.
There
are
many

claims
about
reasons
that
both
camps
would
say
are
true
and
many
that
both

would
say
are
false.
For
instance,
both
might
agree
that
reasons
are
relations.

Both
would
agree
that
reasons
can
justify
action.
Both
would
deny
that
reasons

are
non-‐normative.
And
these
are
possible
answers
to
the
question
‘What
is
a

reason?’.
However,
the
disputants
count
as
disagreeing
about
what
a
reason
is
to

the
extent
that
they
have
different
views
about
how
to
characterize
what
a
reason

is.
And
the
Humeans/non-‐Humeans
do
have
such
a
disagreement.

III.
AN
ARGUMENT
THAT
I-‐DISPUTES
(OF
A
CERTAIN
KIND)

ARE
MERELY
VERBAL

In
this
section
I
will
briefly
address
a
specific
sort
of
philosophical
I-‐dispute
that
I

believe
to
be
merely
verbal.
Then
in
the
next
section,
I
will
move
on
to
the
more

philosophically
interesting
case
of
philosophical
S-‐disputes
for
the
remainder
of

the
chapter.

The
kind
of
I-‐dispute
in
philosophy
that
is
most
clearly
merely
verbal
is
a

dispute
between
an
error
theorist
about
some
topic
and
what
we
can
call
a
thin

realist
(about
the
same
topic).
By
a
thin
realist,
I
mean
someone
who
occupies
the

104

lower-‐right
hand
cell
of
the
Balaguer
matrix
discussed
in
chapter
4.
This
is

someone
who
thinks
that
the
application
conditions
of
the
relevant
predicate
are

metaphysically
non-‐demanding.
So,
for
instance
a
Humean
about
reasons
or
a

compatibilist
about
free
will.
In
order
to
bring
this
kind
of
dispute
into
clearer

focus
for
the
reader,
I
will
concentrate
on
the
case
of
free
will.
(Again,
this
is
not

the
only
example
that
I
think
falls
into
this
category.
But
it
is
a
relatively
clean

example
that
is
easy
to
explain.)

So,
take
a
dispute
between
the
Humean
compatibilist
about
free
will
and

the
hard
determinist.
The
Humean
compatibilist
takes
free
will
to
just
be
roughly

the
ability
to
act
in
accordance
with
your
desires.
And
the
hard
determinist
is

someone
who
thinks
that
free
will
is
libertarian
freedom,
which
requires

indeterminism,
and
that
we
do
not
have
libertarian
freedom
because

determinism
is
true.
Given
this,
consider
the
following
case:

BECKY:
Determinism
is
true.
Every
event
in
the
universe
is
determined
by

previous
events.
Becky
really
wants
to
have
an
ice
cream
cone.
She
goes
to

Baskin
Robbins
and
surprisingly
they
are
out
of
29
of
their
31
flavors.

They
have
only
two,
vanilla
and
Chocolate
Banana
Peanut
Butter
Surprise.

Becky
detests
Chocolate
Banana
Peanut
Butter
Surprise.
But,
luckily,
her

favorite
flavor
of
ice
cream
is
vanilla.
So,
for
her,
there
is
no
contest
and

she
chooses
vanilla.
The
choice
is
fully
determined;
Becky’s
preferences
in

the
case
were
casually
determined
by
events
that
occurred
before
she
was

born.
And
these
preferences
determined
her
choice.
In
fact,
the
choice
was

determined
to
happen
from
the
moment
of
the
Big
Bang.

105

Now
imagine
two
philosophers:
David,
a
Humean
compatibilist,
and
Charlie,
a

hard
determinist.
David
says
that
Becky
chooses
freely
in
the
above
case
and

Charlie
says
that
she
does
not.
I
claim
that
the
debate
is
merely
verbal.

Each
party
to
the
dispute
has
a
different
conception
of
what
is
needed
in

order
for
us
to
have
free
will.
They
do
not
disagree
about
the
relevant
facts
of
the

case.
Both
parties
believe
that
humans
have
Humean
freedom,
the
ability
to
do

what
one
wants,
and
they
both
agree
that
Becky
has
Humean
freedom
in
the

above
case;
moreover,
they
both
agree
that
humans
do
not
have
libertarian

freedom
and
that,
in
the
above
case,
Becky
does
not
have
libertarian
freedom.
But

David
thinks
that
Humean
freedom
is
all
that
is
required
for
Becky
to
have
free

will
–
and
to
choose
her
flavor
of
ice
cream
freely.
And
Charlie
thinks
that

libertarian
freedom
is
needed
for
this.
If
we
imagine
running
a
Hirsch/Manley-‐
style
thought
experiment
on
them
it
is
difficult
to
see
how
they
would
mean
the

same
thing
by
the
relevant
terms
of
the
debate
and
its
cognates;
‘free
will’
and

‘freedom’.
They
use
these
terms
with
different
application
conditions.
David
uses

them
with
application
conditions
that
are
much
weaker
than
the
application

conditions
that
Charlie
uses
them
with.
So,
it
seems
as
though
they
agree
on
the

non-‐linguistic
facts
and
only
disagree
in
their
usage
of
the
central
terms
of
the

dispute.
Thus,
the
dispute
is
merely
verbal.

One
might
object
to
my
diagnosis
of
mere
verbal-‐ness
in
this
case
by

claiming
that
David
and
Charlie
mean
the
same
thing
by
the
term
‘free
will’
(and

the
relevantly
related
terms)
and
they
associate
one
overriding
application

condition,
namely,
that
a
person
is
morally
responsible
for
some
action.
In
such
a

106

case,
that
person
has
free
will.
Now,
imagine
a
case
like
BECKY,
but
it
involves
a

decision
that
is
morally
relevant.
We
will
call
this
hypothetical
case
BECKY*
(and

in
the
scenario
there
is
another
person,
Becky*).
When
considering
BECKY*,

David
thinks
that
Becky*
is
morally
responsible
for
her
action.
Charlie
thinks
that

she
is
not
morally
responsible.
And
this
is
the
difference,
one
might
claim,
that

generates
the
dispute
between
David
and
Charlie
over
whether
Becky*
is
acting

freely
in
the
scenario.

It
seems
to
me
that
this
is
not
a
good
objection.
The
notion
of
moral

responsibility
is
open
to
different
interpretations,
just
like
the
notion
of
free
will.

There
is
a
notion
of
moral
responsibility
that
requires
libertarian
freedom
and

there
is
a
notion
of
moral
responsibility
that
merely
requires
Humean

compatibilist
freedom.
So,
in
BECKY*,
David
and
Charlie
are
just
as
plausibly

having
a
merely
verbal
dispute
involving
moral
responsibility.
If
we
run
a

Hirsch/Manley
thought
experiment
on
them,
they
mean
different
things
by
the

term
‘moral
responsibility’
and
its
cognates.
Thus,
the
move
to
talking
about

moral
responsibility
leaves
us
in
the
same
kind
of
situation
as
it
seemed
we
were

in
prior
to
the
move.
And
the
dispute
looks
merely
verbal.

IV.
ARGUMENTS
FOR
THE
CLAIM
THAT
S-‐DISPUTES
ARE
MERELY
VERBAL

Let
me
move
on
now
to
the
more
important
job
of
arguing
that
S-‐disputes
are

merely
verbal.
I
have
four
arguments
for
this
view.

IV.1
THE
CUP
ARGUMENT

Recall
the
case
of
Jenny
and
Jackson
from
earlier.
Jenny
asks
Jackson
to
hand
her

a
specific
drinking
vessel.
The
vessel
is
made
of
glass.
She
calls
it
a
cup.
Jackson

107

hands
it
to
her,
but
corrects
her.
He
says
that
cups
cannot
be
made
of
glass,
so
the

object
in
question
is
not
a
cup.
Now,
suppose
that
Jenny
disagrees
with
this
claim

and
they
start
arguing
about
what
a
cup
is.
In
this
case,
they
have
two

disagreements
–
one
over
whether
or
not
the
object
in
question
is
a
cup
and

another
one
over
what
a
cup
is
(and
in
particular,
whether
cups
can
be
made
of

glass).
The
former
is
an
example
of
what
I
am
calling
an
I-‐dispute.
The
latter
is
an

example
of
what
I
am
calling
an
S-‐dispute.

Let
me
elaborate.
For
whatever
reason,
Jenny
and
Jackson
have
learned
to

use
the
term
‘cup’
differently.
When
Jenny
looks
at
the
drinking
vessel,
her

intuition
is
that
it
is
a
cup.
Jackson
has
a
different
intuition.
There
is
no
amount
of

reflection
or
non-‐linguistic
empirical
research
that
could
get
either
of
them
to

give
up
their
intuition.
(This
is
stipulated.)
If
we
bring
each
of
these
people
to
a

Hirch/Manley-‐style
scenario
in
which
they
are
embedded
in
a
linguistic

community
in
which
all
the
members
of
the
community
speak
just
like
them,
then

they
will
mean
different
things
by
the
term
‘cup’.
Given
this
fact,
they
are,
of

course,
going
to
make
different
judgments
in
some
cases
about
whether
an
object

is
a
cup.
And
the
difference
in
their
judgment
about
whether
cups
can
be
made
of

glass
has
everything
to
do
with
this.
They
have
each
accepted
a
particular
way
of

applying
the
term
‘cup’
and
their
partial
analysis
of
the
meaning
of
the
term

(which
is
one
way
that
we
can
at
least
roughly
characterize
their
acceptance
or

rejection
of
the
claim
that
cups
cannot
be
made
of
glass)
is
indicative
of
this

difference
between
them.

108

So,
to
repeat
for
the
sake
of
clarity,
the
disagreement
between
Jenny
and

Jackson
over
whether
the
object
in
front
of
them
is
a
cup
is
a
dispute
generated

by
conflicting
intuitions
about
a
case
and,
thus,
an
I-‐dispute.
But
in
the
case
in

which
they
disagree
over
whether
cups
can
be
made
of
glass,
they
are
disagreeing

about
whether
not
being
made
of
glass
is
a
necessary
condition
for
an
object
to
be

a
cup.
They
are
disagreeing
about
exactly
what
notion
is
picked
out
by
the
term

‘cup’
and,
thus,
are
having
an
S-‐dispute.

Now
consider
the
following
argument:

(1) Intuitively,
it
seems
that
the
S-‐dispute
between
Jenny
and
Jackson
over

what
a
cup
is
(in
particular,
whether
cups
can
be
made
of
glass)
is

merely
verbal.

(2) There
is
no
relevant
difference
between
this
S-‐dispute
and

philosophical
S-‐disputes
(e.g.,
the
dispute
about
what
a
reason
is,
what

free
will
is,
etc.).

Therefore,

(3) Philosophical
S-‐disputes
are
merely
verbal.

The
argument
for
premise
(2)
is
that,
structurally,
the
cup
dispute
is
the
same
as

philosophical
S-‐disputes.
They
are
disputes
about
what
concept
is
picked
out
by

some
term
(e.g.,
the
term
‘cup’
or
‘reason’
or
whatever),
or
about
what
the

application
conditions
of
the
term
are.
Philosophical
S-‐disputes
involve
terms
and

concepts
that
are
more
philosophically
interesting
than
those
involved
in
the
cup

dispute.
Surely,
terms
like
‘reasons’
and
‘free
will’
pick
out
more
interesting
and,

possibly,
more
complex,
referents
than
a
term
like
‘cup’.
But
that
is
not
relevant

109

to
the
issue
at
hand.
It
remains
true
that
S-‐disputes
over
what
a
reason
is
or
what

free
will
is
(or
any
similar
subject
of
philosophical
interest)
are
disputes
over

whether
some
condition
is
necessary
or
sufficient
for
some
term
(or
concept)
to

apply.
Thus,
there
is
no
relevant
difference
between
the
cup
S-‐dispute
and
these

philosophical
S-‐disputes.

Now,
if
the
reader
is
persuaded
by
this
argument
for
premise
(2)
but
does

not
want
to
concede
the
truth
of
(3),
then
she
might
want
to
deny
(1).
I
do
not

want
to
try
to
convince
the
reader
to
share
my
intuition
about
the
cup
case.
I
take

the
intuition
an
easy
one
to
have.
And
it
seems
to
me
easy
to
get
others
to
have

the
intuition.
But
I
will
just
move
on
to
the
other
arguments
for
S-‐disputes
being

merely
verbal.
I
consider
these
other
arguments
to
be
more
important.

IV.2
THE
USE-‐THEORY
ARGUMENT

Let
us
move
on
now
to
a
second
argument
for
the
view
that
philosophical
S-‐
disputes
are
merely
verbal.
This
is
an
argument
type.
It
can
be
run
in
connection

with
any
philosophical
S-‐dispute.
I
will
give
a
version
of
the
argument
for
the
case

of
the
S-‐dispute
about
reasons
for
action.
A
similar
argument
can
be
run
for
other

terms
or
concepts.
The
argument
for
the
case
of
reasons
proceeds
as
follows:

(1) When
philosophers
argue
about
what
a
reason
is,
they
say
things
like

‘A
reason
is
abc’
and
‘A
reason
is
xyz’,
where
abc
and
xyz
are
theories

of
what
a
reason
is.
(The
reader
can
think
about
the
abc-‐theory
as
a

Humean
theory
of
reasons
and
the
xyz-‐theory
as
a
non-‐Humean
theory

of
reasons,
but
all
that’s
important
is
that
the
two
theories
are

inconsistent
with
each
other.)

110

(2) The
philosopher
who
says
‘A
reason
is
abc’
is
using
the
term
‘reason’

according
to
the
abc
theory;
and
the
philosopher
who
says
‘A
reason
is

xyz’
is
using
the
term
‘reason’
according
to
the
xyz
theory.

Therefore,

(3) The
two
philosophers
are
using
the
term
‘reason’
differently.

Moreover,
it
seems
clear
that,

(4) In
the
(Hirsch/Manley)
language
of
the
abc-‐theorist,
the
sentence
‘A

reason
is
abc’
is
true,
and
the
sentence
‘A
reason
is
xyz’
is
false;
and
in

the
(Hirsch/Manley)
language
of
the
xyz-‐theorist,
the
sentence
‘A

reason
is
xyz’
is
true,
and
the
sentence
‘A
reason
is
abc’
is
false.
39

Therefore,

(5) The
dispute
is
merely
verbal.

Premise
(1)
seems
trivially
true.
All
it
says
is
that
when
philosophers
argue
about

what
a
reason
is,
they
give
theories
about
what
a
reason
is.
Clearly,
that’s
what

Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans
about
reasons
are
doing.

Premise
(2)
is
a
more
controversial
claim.
I
think
there
are
two

interpretations
of
this
premise
and
we
need
to
disambiguate
before
moving

forward.
The
ambiguity
in
premise
(2)
is
generated
by
an
ambiguity
in
the
term

‘use’.
On
one
sense
of
the
term,
two
people
can
use
a
term
differently,
while

meaning
exactly
the
same
thing
by
a
term
(even
in
the
Hirsch/Manley
sense),

because
of
some
difference
in
their
non-‐linguistic
beliefs.
For
instance,
two

people
could
mean
the
same
thing
by
the
term
‘bachelor’
(and
they
could
both
be

39

The
Hirsch/Manley
language
of
a
person
S
is
the
language
that
S
would
speak
if

S
were
in
the
Hirsch/Manley
scenario.

111

fully
competent
with
respect
to
the
term
‘bachelor’),
but
in
a
particular
case,
one

person
could
apply
the
term
‘bachelor’
and
the
other
could
refuse
to
apply
it

because
one
of
them
could
be
mistaken
about
whether
the
given
man
is

unmarried.
This
is
obviously
an
irrelevant
sense
of
the
term
‘use’.
According
to

the
sense
of
the
term
‘use’
that
I
have
in
mind
for
this
argument,
these
two
people

use
the
term
‘bachelor’
in
the
same
way.
So
on
the
intended
sense
of
the
term

‘use’,
to
talk
about
how
someone
uses
a
term
is
to
talk
about
her
most

fundamental
dispositions
for
using
the
term.
And
when
I
talk
about
someone’s

fundamental
dispositions
to
use
a
term,
I
am
talking
about
something
that
is

closely
related
to
what
she
means
by
the
term
in
the
Hirsch/Manley
sense.

So
now
what
I
want
to
do
is
argue
that
the
two
philosophers
who
are

arguing
about
what
a
reason
is
in
premise
(2)
are
using
(in
the
relevant
sense)

the
term
‘reason’
in
line
with
their
respective
theories.
To
make
this
more
clear,

let’s
focus
on
a
case
where
we
have
a
Humean
and
a
non-‐Humean
about
reasons.

My
claim
is
that
the
Humean
uses
the
term
‘reason’
in
line
with
the
Humean

theory
of
reasons,
and
the
non-‐Humean
uses
the
term
‘reason’
in
line
with
the

non-‐Humean
theory
of
reasons.
My
argument
for
this
is
that
when
coming
up

with
a
theory
of
what
something
is
(e.g.,
what
a
reason
is,
what
free
will
is,
what

knowledge
is,
etc.),
philosophers
consult
their
own
personal
intuitions.
These

intuitions
are
reflections
of
what
they
mean
by
the
term.
And
then
they
go
on
to

think
the
matter
through
in
a
philosophically
informed
and
skillful
way,
until
they

come
up
with
a
theory.
During
this
process,
they
will
tinker
with
their
theory
in
a

very
detail-‐oriented
way,
with
the
purpose
of
covering
all
their
bases.
They
will

112

want
to
account
for
all
of
their
intuitions,
or
if
there
are
some
less
important

intuitions
that
they
cannot
account
for,
they
will
at
least
want
to
have
a
way
to

explain
those
intuitions
away.
At
the
end
of
this
process,
they
come
to
their
final

considered
theory.
It
would
be
surprising,
to
say
the
least,
to
find
a
philosopher
in

such
a
position
who
uses
the
term
(remember,
in
the
relevant
sense
of
‘use’)
in
a

way
that
goes
against
her
theory.
Therefore,
I
want
to
conclude
that
these

philosophers
use
the
terms
in
question
in
accordance
with
their
own
theories.

This
seems
to
be
true
in
general
and
so
is
true
in
the
particular
case
of
the
dispute

about
reasons.
Therefore,
premise
(2)
is
true.

I
will
consider
objections
to
premise
(2)
below,
but
first,
I
want
to

continue
arguing
for
the
premises
in
the
above
argument
and
complete
my

positive
argument
for
the
conclusion.

Premise
(3)
follows
from
premises
(1)
and
(2),
so
I
will
move
on
now
to

premise
(4).
My
argument
for
(4)
is
that
in
the
(Hirsch/Manley)
language
of
the

abc-‐theorist,
the
word
‘reason’
means
what
the
abc-‐theorist
means
(in
the

Hirsch/Manley
sense)
by
the
word
‘reason’.
But
I
just
argued
when
talking
about

premise
(2)
that
what
the
abc-‐theorist
means
by
the
word
‘reason’
is
in
line
with

the
abc
theory.
But
the
abc
theory
says
that
a
reason
is
abc.
So
in
the

Hirsch/Manley
language
of
the
abc-‐theorist,
the
sentence
‘A
reason
is
abc’
is
a

trivial
truth.
For
similar
reasons,
we
can
conclude
that
the
sentence
‘A
reason
is

xyz’
is
trivially
false
in
the
Hirsch/Manley
language
of
the
abc-‐theorist.
Moreover,

we
can
run
the
same
argument
for
the
xyz-‐theorist
to
show
that
in
her
language,

113

the
sentence
‘A
reason
is
xyz’
is
trivially
true,
and
the
sentence
‘A
reason
is
abc’
is

trivially
false.

Lastly,
to
get
from
premises
(3)
and
(4)
to
the
conclusion,
(5),
I
would
just

point
out
that
there
does
not
seem
to
be
anything
more
to
a
merely
verbal

dispute
than
the
parties
meaning
different
things
by
the
disputed
sentences
(as

we
have
in
premise
(3))
and
the
disputed
sentences
coming
out
true
in
the

language
of
the
disputant
who
thinks
they
are
true
and
false
in
the
language
of

the
disputant
who
thinks
they
are
false
(as
we
have
in
premise
(4)).
So
(5)
is
true.

Let
us
consider
two
objections
to
the
above
argument
for
(5).
The
first

objection
can
be
put
like
this:

Premises
(2)
and
(4)
rely
on
the
claim
that
each
disputant
says
something

trivial
in
her
own
language
when
stating
her
theory
of
what
a
reason
is.

But
it
seems
that
in
philosophical
disputes
such
as
this,
philosophers

intend
to
be
making
controversial
claims.
Philosophers
spend
a
great
deal

of
time
writing
and
speaking
about
this
sort
of
dispute
because
they

intend
to
be
disagreeing
with
other
philosophers.
But
this
could
not
be

consistent
with
the
sentences
being
trivially
true
in
their
own
languages.

Firstly,
it
is
not
clear
at
all
that
I
need
to
respond
to
this
objection.
This
objection

is
really
just
the
paradox
of
analysis,
which
is
a
problem
for
everyone.
I
bear
no

special
burden
with
respect
to
that
issue.
However,
let
me
briefly
respond.
In

order
for
the
objection
to
really
hit
home,
the
intention
to
say
something

controversial,
or
to
disagree,
would
need
to
be
a
primary
intention
of
the

philosopher.
That
is,
it
would
need
to
be
quite
weighty.
But
it
seems
as
though,
in

114

this
sort
of
case,
this
intention
is
a
more
of
a
secondary
intention.
It
seems
to
me

that
this
intention
is
not
essential;
it
does
not
seem
to
be
the
sort
of
intention
that

would
determine
the
Hirsch/Manley
language
of
the
disputant.
In
fact,
it
seems

like
an
intention
that
we
can
imagine
the
philosophers
in
question
dropping
as

soon
as
they
became
sympathetic
to
the
possibility
of
a
merely
verbal
diagnosis.
I

do
not
mean
to
deny
that
there
will
be
an
important
sense
in
which
the
correct

theory
of
what
a
reason
is
will
be
simultaneously
trivial
and
controversial,
or

non-‐obvious.
But
I
have
no
special
obligation
to
explain
how
this
is
possible,

given
that
it
is
a
problem
for
everyone.

The
second
objection
to
the
above
argument
for
the
claim
that

philosophical
S-‐disputes
are
merely
verbal
is
also
an
objection
to
premises
(2)

and
(4).
It
goes
like
this:

Philosophers
intend
to
mean
what
we
all
mean
when
using
the
central

terms
of
their
S-‐disputes,
e.g.,
‘reason’,
‘free
will’,
‘knowledge’,
etc.
So

consider
a
case
in
which
a
Humean
says,
“A
reason
is
abc.”
The
most

charitable
interpretation
of
the
Humean’s
use
of
the
word
‘reason’
here
is

not
the
one
that
takes
its
meaning
to
be
dictated
by
the
abc-‐theory.
The

most
charitable
interpretation
is,
rather,
one
that
takes
‘a
reason’
to
mean

this:
an
instance
of
the
kind
(or
the
concept)
that
we
all
pick
out
with
the

term
‘reason’,
whatever
that
kind
(or
concept)
ends
up
being.
If
this
is
what

the
Humean
means,
and
if
this
is
also
what
the
non-‐Humean
means
when

she
says,
“A
reason
is
xyz”,
then
when
Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans
assert

115

their
theories,
they
are
using
‘reason’
in
the
same
way.
And
so
they
are
not

talking
past
each
other,
and
the
dispute
is
not
merely
verbal.

I
am
going
to
hold
off
on
giving
my
response
to
this
objection
until
after
I
give
and

discuss
the
next
argument
for
S-‐disputes
being
merely
verbal.
My
discussion

there
will
make
it
very
easy
to
respond
to
this
objection.

IV.3
THE
S-‐DISPUTE
NEIGHBORHOOD
ARGUMENT

Here’s
another
argument
for
the
conclusion
that
philosophical
S-‐disputes
are

merely
verbal:

(1) The
only
disputes
in
the
neighborhood
of
philosophical
S-‐disputes
that
are

not
merely
verbal
are
disputes
that
are
about
meaning.

(2) When
philosophers
are
engaged
in
philosophical
S-‐disputes,
their
disputes

are
not
about
meaning.

Therefore,

(3) Philosophical
S-‐disputes
are
merely
verbal.

Let
me
start
by
arguing
for
premise
(1).
Here
is
a
dispute
that
is
in
the

neighborhood
of
the
philosophical
S-‐dispute
about
reasons
(for
action).
Imagine
a

Humean
and
a
non-‐Humean,
each
with
his
own
conception
of
what
it
is
to
be
a

reason.
In
other
words,
the
Humean
has
a
Humean
conception,
and
the
non-‐
Humean
has
a
non-‐Humean
conception.
Now
imagine
that
they
get
into
a
dispute

about
which
conception
is
picked
out
by
the
term
‘reason’
in
English.
In
other

words,
they
are
arguing
about
what
the
word
‘reason’
means
in
English.
This
is

clearly
a
debate
about
semantics,
and
in
a
very
real
sense
it
is
a
substantive

dispute.
It
is
not
merely
verbal,
though.
It
is
clearly
“about
words”,
or
“just

116

semantics”,
but
it
is
intended
to
be
about
words
and
semantics
and
the
disputants

do
not
take
themselves
to
be
doing
anything
else.
Moreover,
when
they
saying

things
like,
“The
word
‘reason’
means
abc,”
they
are
not
using
any
of
these
words

differently
from
one
another.
Also,
notice
that
they
are
not
using
the
term
‘reason’

when
they
say
things
like
this;
they
are
mentioning
it.
And
when
they
mention
the

term
‘reason’,
they
mean
the
same
thing
as
the
other
person
(even
in
the

Hirsch/Manley
sense);
in
particular,
they
are
using
“‘reason’”
to
denote
the
word

‘reason’.
And
this
is
why
the
debate
is
not
merely
verbal
in
the
relevant
sense.

Before
moving
on,
I
want
to
make
something
clear.
The
above
dispute

about
the
meaning
of
the
term
‘reason’
seems
to
be
different
from
the
S-‐dispute

about
reasons.
It
is
obviously
importantly
related
to
the
S-‐dispute
about
reasons,

but
I
think
we
can
think
of
them
as
separate
disputes.
I
will
return
to
this
issue

below,
but
first
I
want
to
complete
my
argument
for
premise
(1).

In
order
to
complete
my
argument
for
premise
(1),
I
need
to
argue
that
on

any
way
of
characterizing
the
S-‐dispute
itself
(the
one
that
philosophers
are

actually
having,
not
the
dispute
that
is
about
meaning),
that
dispute
is
merely

verbal.
For
instance,
one
might
characterize
the
S-‐dispute
about
reasons
as
being

about
the
nature
of
reasons
themselves.
On
this
characterization,
there
may
be
no

mention
of
meaning
or
semantics
or
the
term
‘reason’.
Rather,
the

characterization
would
consist
entirely
of
object-‐level
talk
of
reasons.
In
fact,
this

is
the
most
natural
and
intuitive
way
to
characterize
philosophical
S-‐disputes.
But

notice
that
when
philosophers
characterize
the
dispute
in
this
way,
we
are
using

the
term
‘reason’
and
not
mentioning
it.
As
we
have
already
seen,
however,
when

117

the
two
disputants
are
using
the
term
‘reason’,
they
are
using
it
in
a
way
that
fits

with
their
theory
of
what
a
reason
is.
In
other
words,
the
Humean
uses
it
in

accordance
with
the
Humean
theory,
and
the
non-‐Humean
uses
it
in
accordance

with
the
non-‐Humean
theory.
But
this
means
that
they
are
using
the
term

differently,
or
that
they
mean
different
things
by
the
term
in
the
Hirsch/Manley

sense.
And
so,
on
the
above
characterization
of
the
S-‐dispute
about
reasons,
it
is

merely
verbal.

Similar
things
can
be
said
with
respect
to
other
characterizations
of
the
S-‐
dispute
about
reasons.
No
matter
how
you
characterize
that
dispute,
insofar
as

the
characterization
takes
the
disputants
to
be
using
the
term
‘reason’,
instead
of

mentioning
it,
the
dispute
will
be
merely
verbal
according
to
that

characterization.
The
only
way
to
avoid
this
result
is
to
characterize
the
S-‐dispute

about
reasons
in
such
a
way
that
the
disputants
are
only
mentioning
the
term

‘reason’,
and
not
using
it.
But
if
we
do
that,
then
we
are
taking
the
dispute
to
be

the
dispute
described
above,
i.e.,
the
dispute
that
is
about
the
meaning
of
the

term
‘reason’.
But
now
we
are
talking
about
a
different
dispute.
As
I
said
earlier,

the
dispute
that
is
about
the
meaning
of
the
term
‘reason’
does
not
seem
to
be

identical
with
the
philosophical
S-‐dispute
about
reasons.
40

But
this
claim
is

controversial,
and
I
need
to
argue
for
it.
This
takes
us
to
premise
(2)
of
the

argument,
because
that
premise
just
says
that
when
philosophers
are
engaged
in

philosophical
S-‐disputes,
their
disputes
are
not
about
meaning.

40

Don’t
get
me
wrong.
I
think
the
dispute
that
is
explicitly
about
meaning
very

well
might
be
what
the
disputants
should
shift
to.
That
is,
that
might
be
the
most

productive
course
of
action.
But
it
seems
to
be
a
different
dispute.

118

At
a
glance,
premise
(2)
seems
obvious.
When
you
look
at
the
work
of

philosophers
who
are
engaged
in
S-‐disputes
about
reasons,
they
seem,
mainly,
to

be
talking
about
reasons
and
not
the
term
‘reason’.
This
is
not
to
say
that
they

never
mention
the
term
‘reason’,
but
it
is
certainly
not
the
only
(or
even
primary)

thing
that
they
do.
They
seem
to
use
the
term
‘reason’
much
more
than
they

mention
it.
Moreover,
if
you
ask
philosophers
who
engage
in
S-‐disputes
if
their

dispute
is
just
about
meaning,
they
will
generally
answer
in
the
negative,
and
it

seems
charitable
to
assume
that
they
know
what
they
are
doing.

However,
there
is
an
objection
that
one
might
raise
about
this
argument

for
premise
(2).
One
might
think
that
philosophers
can
both
explicitly
and

implicitly
do
semantics.
To
explicitly
do
semantics,
is
to
explicitly
mention
terms

and
attempt
to
identify
their
meanings.
To
implicitly
do
semantics,
perhaps,
is
to

engage
in
disputes
in
which
one
is
somehow
building
mentions
of
the
relevant

terms
into
what
one
is
saying
(without
explicitly
mentioning
the
terms).
So,
if

philosophers
engaged
in
an
S-‐dispute
about
reasons
were
implicitly
doing

semantics,
they
would
be
conveying
(either
by
building
it
into
the
meanings
of

their
terms
or
by
building
it
into
what
is
pragmatically
conveyed)
meta-‐linguistic

claims
about
the
term
‘reason’.
In
fact,
one
might
claim,
this
is
exactly
what
is

going
on
when
philosophers
engage
in
S-‐disputes.
The
philosophers
are
actually

arguing
over
what
the
correct
meanings
of
the
central
terms
of
the
dispute
are.

The
meta-‐linguistic
claims
that
they
would
be
conveying,
on
such
a
picture,
might

be
about,
say,
the
terms
‘reason’
(or
‘free
will’,
or
knowledge’,
etc.)
and
what
its

meaning
is.
But,
again,
this
seems
implausible
to
me.
The
objection
relies
on

119

philosophers
being
unaware
of
the
fact
that
they
are
doing
semantics,
even
if
the

semantics
that
they
are
supposedly
doing
is
under
the
surface
in
some
sense.
And

that
just
seems
to
be
too
uncharitable
of
a
view
to
take,
given
the
precision
and

attention
with
which
philosophers
habitually
use
language.

What
is
plausible
is
that
S-‐disputes
track
the
process
of
doing
semantics.

That
is,
it
does
seem
that
if
I
am
correct
about
S-‐disputes,
there
is
some
sense
in

which
philosophers
are
going
through
many
of
the
motions
that
they
might
go

through
were
they
intending
to
do
semantics
on
the
central
terms
of
their

disputes.
However,
they
do
not
engage
in
what
I
take
to
be
an
essential
part
of

doing
semantics;
mentioning
terms
and
intending
to
identify
their
meanings.
So,

even
though
the
process
of
engaging
in
an
S-‐dispute
looks
similar,
in
certain

interesting
ways,
to
the
process
of
purposefully
identifying
the
meanings
of
the

terms,
it
is
not
the
same
thing.

A
second
argument
for
premise
(2)
is
that
philosophers
often
do
semantics

in
a
very
explicit
way.
They
often
talk
about
the
semantics
of
various
terms
(e.g.,

proper
names,
natural
kind
terms,
moral
terms,
etc.),
and
when
they
do
this,
they

are
very
clear
that
that
is
what
they
are
doing.
They
do
not
use
terms
that
they

are
trying
to
mention,
and
they
very
explicitly
consider
different
candidates
for

the
meanings
of
the
terms
in
question.
Therefore,
when
philosophers
are
engaged

in
S-‐disputes,
and
using
the
relevant
terms
instead
of
mentioning
them,
and
not

making
any
explicit
reference
to
meanings,
it
again
seems
charitable
to
assume

that
they
are
not
talking
about
the
meanings
of
the
terms.

120

This
concludes
the
formulation
of
the
positive
argument
of
this
section.

However,
I
now
want
to
return
to
the
objection
that
I
passed
over
at
the
end
of

the
last
section,
because
that
objection
is
relevant
to
the
argument
of
this
section

as
well.
In
that
objection,
it
was
suggested
that
when
Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans

state
their
theories,
they
are
using
the
term
‘a
reason’
to
mean
an
instance
of
the

kind
(or
the
concept)
that
we
all
pick
out
with
the
term
‘reason’,
whatever
that
kind

(or
concept)
ends
up
being.

If
this
were
right,
then
the
Humean
and
the
non-‐Humean
would
really
be

doing
semantics.
Because
built
into
the
way
they
are
using
the
term
‘reason’
is
an

implicit
mention
of
the
term.
In
other
words,
when
they
seem
to
be
using
the

term,
they
would
really
be
mentioning
the
term.
But
I
just
argued
that
it
is

implausible
to
interpret
philosophers
this
way
because
it
is
uncharitable
to

assume
that
they
are
that
careless
with
their
language.
Again,
philosophers
are

very
used
to
doing
semantics,
and
when
they
do
so,
they
are
very
clear
about
it.
It

would
be
uncharitable
to
take
philosophers
who
are
engaged
in
S-‐disputes
to
be

doing
semantics
without
realizing
it.
It
is
actually
difficult
to
think
of
any
field
in

which
people
are
more
careful
about
their
use
of
language
than
in
philosophy.

Also,
another
response
to
the
objection
raised
at
the
end
of
section
IV.2
is

that
even
if
philosophers
who
are
engaged
in
S-‐disputes
have
the
intention
of

meaning
by
their
terms
what
we
all
do,
we
can
ignore
that
intention
and
still
put

them
in
the
Hirsch/Manley
scenario.
(The
Hirsch/Manley
scenario
already

involves
us
ignoring
major
factors
in
the
determination
of
the
meanings
of
terms

in
the
public
language,
namely,
the
influence
of
other
people.
I
see
know
reason

121

why,
if
we
can
do
that,
we
cannot
ignore
some
specific
intention
inside
of
the

head
of
some
relevant
speaker.)
And
once
we
do
that,
they
will
mean
different

things
by
sentence
with
the
relevant
terms.

IV.4

In
this
section,
I
will
give
my
fourth
and
final
argument
for
philosophical
S-‐
disputes
being
merely
verbal.
I
will
focus
on
the
S-‐dispute
between
Humeans
and

non-‐Humeans
about
reasons,
but
this
sort
of
argument
should
be
able
to
be
run

for
all
philosophical
S-‐disputes.
The
argument
goes
as
follows:

(1) Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans
about
reasons
can
agree
on
all
the
relevant

facts
except
for
the
necessary
and
sufficient
conditions
for
inclusion
in
the

category
of
reasons.

(2) Disagreeing
(in
some
really
strong
way)
on
the
necessary
and
sufficient

conditions
for
inclusion
in
the
category
of
reasons
is
equivalent
to
having

different
dispositions
to
use
the
term
‘reason’.

Therefore,

(3) Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans
about
reasons
can
agree
on
all
the
relevant

facts
but
differ
with
respect
to
their
dispositions
to
use
the
term
‘reason’.

(4) Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans
disagree
about
the
truth-‐values
of
the

sentences
that
are
central
to
their
dispute,
e.g.,
sentences
like
‘A
reason
is

necessarily
related
to
some
desire
(or
other
psychological
state)
of
the

relevant
agent.’

(5) Given
premise
(3),
the
only
way
to
account
for
the
fact
that
Humeans
and

non-‐Humeans
disagree
about
the
truth-‐values
of
the
sentences
mentioned

122

in
premise
(4)
is
to
say
that
Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans
mean
different

things
(in
the
Hirsch/Manley
sense)
by
these
sentences
and,
so,
the

dispute
is
merely
verbal.

Therefore,

(6) The
debate
between
Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans
about
what
reasons
are

is
merely
verbal.

Let
me
start
by
arguing
for
premise
(1).
It
is
difficult
to
see
what
else
they

disagree
about,
aside
from
the
conditions
for
inclusion
in
the
category
of
reasons.

(This
does
not
mean
that
there
are
not
other
ways
of
characterizing
the

disagreement.
For
instance,
again,
it
is
also
accurate
to
say
that
they
disagree

about
the
nature
of
reasons.
But
this
seems
to
be
just
another
way
of
saying,

basically,
the
same
thing
about
the
dispute.)
Uncontroversially,
Humeans
and

non-‐Humeans
agree
on
the
fact
that
people
have
desires
(or
other
important

psychological
states)
that
can
be
better
or
worse
served
by
different
types
of

actions
in
different
types
of
situations.
Of
course,
they
might
disagree
about
the

ontology
-‐-‐
whether
non-‐Humean
reasons
exist
at
all
-‐-‐
but
they
do
not
need
to

disagree
about
this.
Humeans
can
say
that
there
are
non-‐Humean
reasons

(without
thinking
that
they
are
reasons
–
that
is,
without
thinking
that
they
are

actually
what
is
picked
out
by
our
term
‘reason’),
and
one
can
endorse
a
non-‐
Humean
theory
of
what
reasons
would
need
to
be
were
they
to
exist
without

believing
that
they
do
exist.
(I
do
not
want
to
get
caught
up
in
whether
or
not

such
a
view
should
be
called
non-‐Humean.
It
seems
like
a
plausible

categorization,
but
arguing
over
the
label
is
not
necessary.)
Also,
it
is
not
clear

123

that
a
disagreement
about
the
existence
of
non-‐Humeans
reasons
is
relevant
to

the
disagreement
over
what
reasons
are.

Premise
(2)
seems
obvious.
Clearly,
the
conditions
tracked
by
their

dispositions
to
use
the
term
‘reason’
might
be
most
naturally
framed

linguistically,
and
the
inclusion
conditions
for
the
category
of
reasons
might
most

naturally
be
framed
non-‐linguistically,
but
the
conditions
will
be
essentially

equivalent.

Premise
(3)
follows
from
premises
(1)
and
(2).
Premise
(4)
is
trivially

true,
so
all
that
remains
is
to
argue
for
premise
(5).
But
premise
(5)
is
not
a
very

bold
claim.
If
Humeans
and
non-‐Humeans
can
really
agree
on
all
the
relevant

facts,
only
differing
in
their
dispositions
to
use
the
term
‘reason’,
that
is

analogous
to
the
football
case,
where
the
Briton
and
the
American
agree
on
all

the
relevant
facts
but
differ
in
their
dispositions
to
use
the
term
‘football’.
So
if

the
Humean
and
the
non-‐Humean
engaged
in
the
S-‐dispute
still
disagree
on
the

truth-‐values
of
the
relevant
sentences,
it
seems
that
we
have
no
choice
but
to

explain
their
disagreement
by
reference
to
the
difference
between
their

dispositions
to
use
the
term
‘reason’.
But
this
is
just
to
say
that
we
have
to
explain

the
disagreement
by
appeal
to
the
different
ways
in
which
they
use
(in
the

Hirsch/Manley
sense)
the
term
‘reason’
(or
the
different
things
they
mean,
in
the

Hirsch/Manley
sense,
by
sentences
containing
the
term).
And
if
that
is
correct,

then
their
dispute
is
merely
verbal.

124

V.
S-‐DISPUTES
AND
PARASITIC
ONTOLOGICAL
DISPUTES

One
might
wonder
if
ontological
disputes
might
be
parasitically
merely
verbal.

The
idea
here
would
be
that
the
mere
verbalness
of
some
S-‐disputes
might
be

such
that
they
infect
nearby
ontological
disputes.
For
instance,
take
an
S-‐dispute

about
the
term
‘object’.
Two
philosophers
might
have
different
notions
of
what
it

takes
to
count
as
an
object.
Jones
thinks
that
an
object
needs
to
be
an
ordinary

object
(such
as
a
baseball,
toaster,
cup,
etc)
while
Smith
might
think
that
the
term

‘object’
applies
to
ordinary
objects
and
extraordinary
objects
(such
as

mereological
sums).

If
Jones
and
Smith
disagree
about
what
it
takes
to
be
an

object,
then
surely
they
are
going
to
come
across
cases
in
which
they
have

opposing
intuitions
as
to
whether
or
not
something
(broadly
construed
so
as
to

not
be
necessarily
an
object)
counts
as
an
object.
For
example,
if
they
find

themselves
in
front
of
a
table
with
two
ordinary
objects
on
it,
a
baseball
and
a

toaster,
then
Jones
will
think
that
there
are
only
two
objects
and
Smith
will
think

that
there
are
three
(the
two
ordinary
objects
and
the
mereological
sum

composed
of
those
two
objects).
But
this
disagreement
between
them
looks
to
be

generated
by
their
disagreement
about
what
it
is
to
be
an
object.
And
insofar
as
it

looks
to
be
merely
verbal,
which
it
does,
it
seems
obvious
that
its
mere

verbalness
comes
from
their
S-‐dispute
over
‘object’.
Thus,
ontological
disputes

can,
in
certain
instances,
be
parasitically
merely
verbal.

The
fact
that
in
some
instances
ontological
disputes
can
be
parasitically

merely
verbal
does
not
contradict
Balauger’s
conclusion
that
ontological
disputes

are
not
metaphysically
merely
verbal.
It
just
shows
that
sometimes
some

125

instances
of
ontological
disputes
can
be
merely
verbal.
But
we
do
not
need
to

look
for
parasitical
examples
to
find
merely
verbal
ontological
disputes.
As

discussed
above,
instances
of
ontological
disputes
between
philosophers
can
in

fact
be
merely
verbal.
(Instances
of
almost
any
kind
of
disputes
can,
most
likely.)

It
is
not
clear
that
anybody
would
want
to
deny
that.
What
Balaguer
(and
Eklund)

points
out
is
that
it
is
not
the
case
that
they
must
be
merely
verbal.
And
it
is
that

sort
of
strong
(or
metaphysical,
in
Balauger’s
terminology)
mere
verbalism
that

Hirsch
is
in
favor
of.
Furthermore,
Balaguer’s
argument
in
this
chapter
works

against
strong
(or
metaphysical)
mere
verbalism
about
ontological
disputes

because
he
identifies
a
way
to
locate
a
non-‐verbal
dispute
in
the
neighborhood
of

any
ontological
dispute.

VI.
CONCLUSION

The
above
arguments
in
this
chapter
are
intended
to
persuade
the
reader
that
a

certain
kind
of
philosophical
I-‐dispute
and
all
philosophical
S-‐disputes
are
merely

verbal.
I
understand
that
this
is
a
bold
pair
of
conclusions.
Again,
I
expect
the

conclusion
about
I-‐disputes
to
be
easier
for
the
reader
to
sympathize
with
than

the
conclusion
about
S-‐disputes.
And
I
take
both
conclusions
to
be
interesting
and

interestingly
related
to
each
other.
But
the
conclusion
about
S-‐disputes
cuts

deeper
and
is
more
philosophically
interesting
than
the
former
conclusion.
It
is
a

more
deflationary
view,
given
its
level
of
generality
and
the
fact
that
S-‐disputes

are
generally
taken
more
seriously
in
philosophy
than
I-‐disputes.
This
is
not
to

say
that
I-‐disputes
are
not
important
or
interesting.
But
S-‐disputes
are
more

126

likely
to
be
thought
of
by
as
the
kind
of
dispute
that
it
is
worth
having.
And
the

deflation
of
these
disputes
runs
counter
to
that
sense.

Finally,
I
believe
I
have
located
a
sort
of
middle
version
of
mere
verbalism,

between
purely
historical
mere
verbalism
and
purely
metaphysical
mere

verbalism
(to
use
Balaguer’s
terminology).
I
have
argued
that
S-‐disputes
are

generally
historically
merely
verbal
(that
is,
they
have
often
been
merely
verbal

and
that
their
mere
verbalness
is
contingent)
and
–
in
the
cases
in
which
they
are

not
merely
verbal
–
they
are
merely
about
semantics.
If
we
were
to
apply

Ballaguer’s
matrix
to
S-‐disputes,
the
only
substantive
dispute
in
the

neighborhood
of
any
S-‐dispute
is
going
to
be
one
about
the
semantics
of
the

central
terms
of
the
dispute.

So
either
way,
the
S-‐disputes
are
verbal
in
some
intuitive
sense.
This
is
an

interesting
conclusion
because
if
it
is
correct,
then
a
significant
type
of
dispute

that
is
often
had
in
philosophy
is
deflated
in
one
way
or
the
other.
In
the
cases
in

which
they
are
merely
verbal,
they
are
shown
to
not
be
legitimate
disputes.
In
the

cases
in
which
they
are
shown
to
be
semantic
disputes,
they
are
shown
to
be

other
than
what
they
are
generally
perceived
to
be.
Many
philosophers
would
be

okay
to
learn
or
be
told
that
they
disputes
that
they
care
about
are
just
disputes

over
the
semantics
of
the
terms
of
the
dispute.
But
many
philosophers
would
feel

unsatisfied
by
such
a
result.
Many
take
themselves
to
be
doing
something
more

than
(or
at
least
other
than)
just
figuring
out
the
meanings
of
philosophically

interesting
terms.

127

This
position
is
different
from
Balaguer
who
argues
against
metaphysical

mere
verbalism
about
ontological
disputes
by
locating
a
substantive
dispute
in
the

neighborhood
that
is
not
merely
about
semantics
and
is
the
sort
of
dispute
that

philosophers
tend
to
want
to
be
having.

128

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Abstract (if available)

Abstract The purpose of my dissertation is to explore the nature of merely verbal disputes in general and, more importantly, how they occur in philosophy. I will discuss the general idea of what it means for a dispute to be merely verbal. Intuitively, a dispute is merely verbal when the disputants use some term or terms in their dispute differently and the difference in usage is what accounts for the dispute. In such a case, we often feel comfortable saying that the disputants do not really disagree. They only seem to disagree. ❧ An easy illustrative example is one of two British and American children involved in a dispute over whether a football is round or not. The Brit says that footballs are round. The American says that they are not. But the Brit is talking about soccer and the American is talking about American football. They just do not realize that this is what is happening and, so, they take themselves to be engaged in a substantive dispute. It seems to some philosophers (as well as myself) that there are some philosophical disputes that are like this in a relevant way. However, characterizing what it is for a dispute to be merely verbal is more difficult than one might first assume. If some philosophical disputes are merely verbal, then they are not as easy to spot as the dispute about football described above. They are subtler, in some important way. Recently, some philosophers have attempted to come up with characterizations of merely verbal disputes that capture these less easy to identify merely verbal disputes. Part of this project involves a discussion of current attempts (by Hirsch, Manley, Chalmers, and others) in the literature to characterize merely verbal disputes. ❧ I then consider two fundamentally different sorts of philosophical disputes, ontological and non-‐ontological. Ontological disputes (disputes about mereology, for instance) are commonly thought to be candidates for being merely verbal. Many philosophers are doubtful of their status as substantive disputes. Hirsch, in particular, argues for the conclusion that they are merely verbal. I consider arguments by Eklund and Balaguer against the Hirschian view. I disagree with Eklund and come to a more mixed conclusion with respect to Balaguer’s argument. ❧ Lastly, while focusing on non-‐ontological disputes, I identify what I call I-‐disputes and S-‐disputes, focusing more heavily on the latter. I-‐disputes involve disputes over judgments of cases. S-‐disputes involve disputes over necessary or sufficient conditions for the proper application of some term. I conclude the project by arguing that S-‐disputes are merely verbal.

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