Who invented the apoha theory? If you, like me, are prone to answer "Dignāga" and to add that Dignāga (as shown by Hattori) was inspired by Bhartṛhari's theory and that Dharmakīrti and Dharmottara later fine-tuned Dignāga's one, you are ready to have your view challenged by K. Kunjunni Raja's article in Buddhist Logic and Epistemology (ed. by B.K. Matilal and R.D. Evans, 1986). Please read the rest at my new blog, here.
Showing posts with label artha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label artha. Show all posts
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Monday, April 14, 2014
Sucarita Miśra on apoha —On Kataoka 2014a
Who is the most productive scholar on Indian Philosophy? Kei Kataoka is surely in the top-10 (have a look at his publications here).
He has just published a critical edition of the apoha section of Sucarita’s commentary on the Ślokavārttika. Please read the rest at my new blog, here.
He has just published a critical edition of the apoha section of Sucarita’s commentary on the Ślokavārttika. Please read the rest at my new blog, here.
Friday, August 16, 2013
The context principle and some Indian controversies over Meaning —B.K. Matilal and P.K. Sen
The context principle and some Indian controversies over Meaning is a milestone in Indian studies, and in the history of their interaction with mainstream (i.e. Western) philosophy. Since it was published in 1988 on Mind (one of the top-5 journals in Philosophy, inaccessible for most authors), virtually everyone (in Indian philosophy) has read it.
Have you also re-read it?
I re-read it after some years this Summer and I have to admit that it was again a surprise. The article starts with a discussion of the Context principle in Frege and Quine (does the principle mean that words HAVE no meaning outside a sentence, or that their meaning can only be UNDERSTOOD within a sentence?). In this connection, M & S discuss a strong and a weak interpretation of the Context principle (according to whether it should answer the first or the second question). They end up saying that the strong interpretation clashes with Frege's later work (see below), whereas the weak interpretation (the context is only needed to understand the meaning of words) is trivial. Thus, an intermediate interpretation needs to be adopted, namely that "the meaning of a subsentential expression is nothing but its contribution to the meaning of the sentence in which it occurs" (p. 80).
Next, Matilal and Sen discuss also Russell's On Denoting (another milestone of contemporary Philosophy of Language). I have to admit that I could not understand Matilal and Sen's treatment of it until I actually read Russell (but the fact of making a reader undertake further studies might be conceived as a further result of Matilal and Sen). Until M & S, in fact, I had always thought of Russell's philosophy of language as correspondentist, whereas M & S interpret Russell's strategy of reduction (through his "contextual definitions") as also (implicitly) presupposing some sort of Context principle.
A further step is the analysis of Frege. In fact, the Context principle seems to clash with the sense-reference distinction, outlined by Frege in his later work. M & S use Michael Dummett's Frege: Philosophy of Language to claim that both theses can co-exist: words' meanings are outer referents, but "we cannot say anything, in the strict sense of the word 'say', without the use of whole sentences" (p. 80). After a short excursus on Kant's unity of thought, Michael Dummett's book is also quoted to discuss the distinction between the Context principle and the Composition principle. According to the latter, the meaning of a sentence is the result of the composition of the words forming it.
Does this sound familiar? If not, it means that you have not been working on the Kumārila-Prabhākara-Bhartṛhari-Nyāya controversy on word- and sentence-meaning. In fact, as shown by M & S in the second part of their work (pp. 84--97), the Indian scenario also revolves on similar issues. Bhartṛhari is clearly an holist: for him the meaning of a sentence is a whole and word-meanings are only secondary abstractions. Kumārila and Prabhākara represent two different positions, possibly identifiable, respectively, with the weak and the intermediate interpretation of the Context principle.
This leads to a further problem, i.e., the link between linguistics and ontology. The topic is only hinted at at the end of M & S's article, but it is, in my opinion, the most thought-provoking contribution of the article (together with the very idea of joining Frege and Kumārila side by side in a philosophical debate).
In fact, if words express their meanings only once already related in the context of a sentence, as upheld by the Prābhākaras, what consequences does this have for the Prābhākara ontology? If, for instance, "cow" in "Bring the cow!" does not mean a separate cow, but a cow insofar as it is related to the injunction of being brought, does this entail that a "cow-connected-with-the-injunction-of bringing" exists out there? What sort of cow would this be? Surely an incomplete cow, one which is completed by the injunction of bringing. Should one admit —for the sake of maintaining the correspondentism between meanings and outer world— that there are "unsaturated entities" out there?
My personal answer is that ontology is less relevant than linguistics for the Prābhākaras (unlike for most Western philosophers and common folks) and that, as a matter of fact, this sort of correspondentism is already ruled out by the Prābhākara stress on exhortations as the paradigm of all sentences.
What do you think? Can there be linguistics without ontology?
Moreover, methodologically speaking, I wonder why M & S has not been enough for further studies of this sort to be the rule on Mind (and other philosophical journals). Does this failure depend on their style? (Or should we just start working as a task-force and submit many articles of this kind?)
On ontology and Mīmāṃsā, see this post. On ontology in Indian philosophy in general, see this one.
As hinted at in the Introduction, this was not the first time I read M & S's article. You can read a further post about it (focusing on the Prābhākara linguistic theory) here. On Frege's and the Prābhākara philosophy of language, check this post.
Have you also re-read it?
I re-read it after some years this Summer and I have to admit that it was again a surprise. The article starts with a discussion of the Context principle in Frege and Quine (does the principle mean that words HAVE no meaning outside a sentence, or that their meaning can only be UNDERSTOOD within a sentence?). In this connection, M & S discuss a strong and a weak interpretation of the Context principle (according to whether it should answer the first or the second question). They end up saying that the strong interpretation clashes with Frege's later work (see below), whereas the weak interpretation (the context is only needed to understand the meaning of words) is trivial. Thus, an intermediate interpretation needs to be adopted, namely that "the meaning of a subsentential expression is nothing but its contribution to the meaning of the sentence in which it occurs" (p. 80).
Next, Matilal and Sen discuss also Russell's On Denoting (another milestone of contemporary Philosophy of Language). I have to admit that I could not understand Matilal and Sen's treatment of it until I actually read Russell (but the fact of making a reader undertake further studies might be conceived as a further result of Matilal and Sen). Until M & S, in fact, I had always thought of Russell's philosophy of language as correspondentist, whereas M & S interpret Russell's strategy of reduction (through his "contextual definitions") as also (implicitly) presupposing some sort of Context principle.
A further step is the analysis of Frege. In fact, the Context principle seems to clash with the sense-reference distinction, outlined by Frege in his later work. M & S use Michael Dummett's Frege: Philosophy of Language to claim that both theses can co-exist: words' meanings are outer referents, but "we cannot say anything, in the strict sense of the word 'say', without the use of whole sentences" (p. 80). After a short excursus on Kant's unity of thought, Michael Dummett's book is also quoted to discuss the distinction between the Context principle and the Composition principle. According to the latter, the meaning of a sentence is the result of the composition of the words forming it.
Does this sound familiar? If not, it means that you have not been working on the Kumārila-Prabhākara-Bhartṛhari-Nyāya controversy on word- and sentence-meaning. In fact, as shown by M & S in the second part of their work (pp. 84--97), the Indian scenario also revolves on similar issues. Bhartṛhari is clearly an holist: for him the meaning of a sentence is a whole and word-meanings are only secondary abstractions. Kumārila and Prabhākara represent two different positions, possibly identifiable, respectively, with the weak and the intermediate interpretation of the Context principle.
This leads to a further problem, i.e., the link between linguistics and ontology. The topic is only hinted at at the end of M & S's article, but it is, in my opinion, the most thought-provoking contribution of the article (together with the very idea of joining Frege and Kumārila side by side in a philosophical debate).
In fact, if words express their meanings only once already related in the context of a sentence, as upheld by the Prābhākaras, what consequences does this have for the Prābhākara ontology? If, for instance, "cow" in "Bring the cow!" does not mean a separate cow, but a cow insofar as it is related to the injunction of being brought, does this entail that a "cow-connected-with-the-injunction-of bringing" exists out there? What sort of cow would this be? Surely an incomplete cow, one which is completed by the injunction of bringing. Should one admit —for the sake of maintaining the correspondentism between meanings and outer world— that there are "unsaturated entities" out there?
My personal answer is that ontology is less relevant than linguistics for the Prābhākaras (unlike for most Western philosophers and common folks) and that, as a matter of fact, this sort of correspondentism is already ruled out by the Prābhākara stress on exhortations as the paradigm of all sentences.
What do you think? Can there be linguistics without ontology?
Moreover, methodologically speaking, I wonder why M & S has not been enough for further studies of this sort to be the rule on Mind (and other philosophical journals). Does this failure depend on their style? (Or should we just start working as a task-force and submit many articles of this kind?)
On ontology and Mīmāṃsā, see this post. On ontology in Indian philosophy in general, see this one.
As hinted at in the Introduction, this was not the first time I read M & S's article. You can read a further post about it (focusing on the Prābhākara linguistic theory) here. On Frege's and the Prābhākara philosophy of language, check this post.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Does one study out of desire? Aristotle and Veṅkaṭanātha
A brahman must learn by heart the Veda and study its auxiliaries (metrics, astrology —to know when to perform a certain ritual—, etc.). But does he have to also dwell in it and investigate further beyond its sheer phonic form? And, if there is no duty to do it, why do people nonetheless start studying Mīmāṃsā (defined as the study of the meaning of the Veda)? Veṅkaṭanātha's answer, in his Seśvaramīmāṃsā (ad MS 1.1.1) and in the Śatadūṣaṇī is clear: out of desire (rāga). He thus replies to opponents who claim that the duty to learn the Veda extends beyond its phonic form and includes the Mīmāṃsā. Thus, Aristotle's approach ("Human beings naturally love to know") triumphs and the stereotype of an Indian adversion to desire is —once again— to be at least rediscussed:
Thus, desire is legitimate and legitimated, even within Viśiṣṭādvaita Vedānta…
For further posts on Veṅkaṭanātha see this one (and its links).
To begin with, the study of the whole Veda, together with its auxiliaries and with the Brahmasūtra is established, be it promoted by the injunction to study (as claimed by the Bhāṭṭas) or by the one to teach (as claimed by the Prābhākaras). Also the investigation about its meaning regards the whole [Veda], be it promoted by an injunction (as claimed by the Bhāṭṭas) or by one's desire (as explained in the Seśvaramīmāṃsā), since there is nothing hindering the one or the other (injunction or desire).
[Objection:] There might well be no hindrance to the promotion [of the study of the meaning of the Veda] by a prescription, but there is certainly a hindrance to the promotion by [one's] desire [to know the meaning of the Veda], because it is incongruous that one undertakes an activity as long as there is desire.
[Reply:] It is not so, because both the [following] options (vikalpa) are not possible: Is [desire to know it] an hindrance in the investigation about the brahman, or is it [an hindrance in the investigation] about ritual action (karman)? Not the first one, because a human being desires all four human aims (i.e., pleasure, success, dharma and liberation) [and not just the first three], and because there is no contradiction if, in [their] sequence, one [also] enjoys [them]. […]
(Śatadūṣaṇī 3)
Thus, desire is legitimate and legitimated, even within Viśiṣṭādvaita Vedānta…
For further posts on Veṅkaṭanātha see this one (and its links).
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
artha, meaning and reference in Jayanta
artha is a very common term in śāstric Sanskrit and it is at times difficult to see what is Jayanta's distinctive usage of it.
He, in fact, inherits from the Nyāya and Mīmāṃsā systems an epistemological usage of artha in the context of the definition of perceptual knowledge, as meaning 'the real object of a valid piece of cognition'. In the context of linguistic usage, in the śāstric usage preceding Jayanta, artha tends to define the meaning of a word, often considered to be identical with its referent. This does not mean, however, that this artha is a concrete individual.
For instance, in a passage (NM 5, section 3.2.4 in Kataoka 2010), Jayanta states that although the universal is present only within an individual, the two have distinct arthas, thus showing that artha cannot refer to a concrete individual (since there would not be two distinct concrete individuals for vyakti and jāti):
Jayanta rather inquires on what makes something into the content of an epistemic or of a linguistic act. What is the feature which makes an object fit to be grasped? Jayanta's explicit answer (again, in NM 5) will be that the object of a linguistic expression is the vyakti tadvān, i.e., the individual insofar as it is endowed with the characters which make it part of a universal. This is, consequently, the meaning of artha for Jayanta (whether this interpretation holds true for his predecessors and successors is still to be verified).
Do you have different views about the usage of artha in this or other authors?
On Jayanta, see this post and this one. On artha in Indian thought, see this post and a remark in this one.
He, in fact, inherits from the Nyāya and Mīmāṃsā systems an epistemological usage of artha in the context of the definition of perceptual knowledge, as meaning 'the real object of a valid piece of cognition'. In the context of linguistic usage, in the śāstric usage preceding Jayanta, artha tends to define the meaning of a word, often considered to be identical with its referent. This does not mean, however, that this artha is a concrete individual.
For instance, in a passage (NM 5, section 3.2.4 in Kataoka 2010), Jayanta states that although the universal is present only within an individual, the two have distinct arthas, thus showing that artha cannot refer to a concrete individual (since there would not be two distinct concrete individuals for vyakti and jāti):
This vṛtti (the presence of the universal in the individual) is the same that [holds] between parts and part-bearer, and between qualities and quality-bearer. Later it will be shown that these two (part and part-bearer and quality and quality-bearer) have different meanings.
Jayanta rather inquires on what makes something into the content of an epistemic or of a linguistic act. What is the feature which makes an object fit to be grasped? Jayanta's explicit answer (again, in NM 5) will be that the object of a linguistic expression is the vyakti tadvān, i.e., the individual insofar as it is endowed with the characters which make it part of a universal. This is, consequently, the meaning of artha for Jayanta (whether this interpretation holds true for his predecessors and successors is still to be verified).
Do you have different views about the usage of artha in this or other authors?
On Jayanta, see this post and this one. On artha in Indian thought, see this post and a remark in this one.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Non-ontological approach in Mīmāṃsā
What is prescriptive (normative) and what is just descriptive in the Brāhmaṇas and in Mīmāṃsā?
Elaborating on the identifications frequent in the Brāhmaṇas, Lars Göhler (Reflexion und Ritual in der Pūrvamīmāṃsā, 2011) writes:
(Mylius (1976:146) schreibt, dass ihnen der Wunsch, die objektive Realität zu systematisieren, zugrunde lag. Stil und Formulierung dieser Identifikationen deuten aber noch auf eine weitere Absicht hin: die Brahmanen haben diese Identitäten nicht nur festgestellt, sie haben sie geschworen: In den Identifikationen findet sich nicht nur ein ''Sein'', sondern auch ein ''Sollen'', Göhler 2011: 20).
This harmonises with the caution against a default ontological interpretation pronounced by Göhler at the beginning of his book. Moreover, it throws some light on the prescriptive approach to the Veda which is typical of Mīmāṃsā. If one focuses on how the Brāhmaṇas and then the speculation on them do not merely describe reality, but rather prescribe how this should be, some of the striking peculiarities of Mīmāṃsā (and of Indian philosophy), such as the complex semantics of artha, meaning at the same time 'object' and 'purpose', become clearer. A little bit later, Göhler convincingly argues that also pramāṇa has in Mīmāṃsā a rather normative meaning (''Damit gehört Pramāṇa eher in die Nähe von Gültigkeitsbegriffen im Sinne von 'normativ gültig' oder 'handlungsverbindlich' '' (Göhler 2011: 36). Even MS 1.1.4, with its rejection of sense perception as instrument to know dharma is audaciously re-interpreted by Göhler from a non-descriptive perspective. The sūtra states that sense perception is animitta. This is usually understood as meaning that it is not the cause of the knowledge of dharma. By contrast, Göhler stresses the ritual background of nimitta and translates as follows: ''it does not promote (a ritual action creating something new)'' ("[…] sie veranlasst nicht (eine rituelle Tätigkeit, die etwas Neues schafft)'', Göhler 2011: 38).
In my opinion, the opposition between a descriptive and a prescriptive approach is a fundamental one when looking at Mīmāṃsā and possibly at Indian philosophy in general. A prescriptive meaning, further, cannot be interpreted through a direct-realist lens, insofar as it cannot directly correspond to an external state of affairs already existing at the moment the sentence referring to it is uttered. In other words, this is a further case of a non-ontological approach current in Indian philosophical texts (the topic has been recently discussed in this very interesting post by Jayarava).
What do readers think? Further evidences of non-ontological approaches?
Elaborating on the identifications frequent in the Brāhmaṇas, Lars Göhler (Reflexion und Ritual in der Pūrvamīmāṃsā, 2011) writes:
Mylius (1976:146) writes that the [identifications in the Brāhmaṇas, E.F.] are based on the desire to systematise reality. The style and formulation of these identifications hint, however, also at a further purpose: The Brahmans did not just ascertain such identities, they conjured up them: in the identifications there is not only an ''is'', but also an ''ought''.
(Mylius (1976:146) schreibt, dass ihnen der Wunsch, die objektive Realität zu systematisieren, zugrunde lag. Stil und Formulierung dieser Identifikationen deuten aber noch auf eine weitere Absicht hin: die Brahmanen haben diese Identitäten nicht nur festgestellt, sie haben sie geschworen: In den Identifikationen findet sich nicht nur ein ''Sein'', sondern auch ein ''Sollen'', Göhler 2011: 20).
This harmonises with the caution against a default ontological interpretation pronounced by Göhler at the beginning of his book. Moreover, it throws some light on the prescriptive approach to the Veda which is typical of Mīmāṃsā. If one focuses on how the Brāhmaṇas and then the speculation on them do not merely describe reality, but rather prescribe how this should be, some of the striking peculiarities of Mīmāṃsā (and of Indian philosophy), such as the complex semantics of artha, meaning at the same time 'object' and 'purpose', become clearer. A little bit later, Göhler convincingly argues that also pramāṇa has in Mīmāṃsā a rather normative meaning (''Damit gehört Pramāṇa eher in die Nähe von Gültigkeitsbegriffen im Sinne von 'normativ gültig' oder 'handlungsverbindlich' '' (Göhler 2011: 36). Even MS 1.1.4, with its rejection of sense perception as instrument to know dharma is audaciously re-interpreted by Göhler from a non-descriptive perspective. The sūtra states that sense perception is animitta. This is usually understood as meaning that it is not the cause of the knowledge of dharma. By contrast, Göhler stresses the ritual background of nimitta and translates as follows: ''it does not promote (a ritual action creating something new)'' ("[…] sie veranlasst nicht (eine rituelle Tätigkeit, die etwas Neues schafft)'', Göhler 2011: 38).
In my opinion, the opposition between a descriptive and a prescriptive approach is a fundamental one when looking at Mīmāṃsā and possibly at Indian philosophy in general. A prescriptive meaning, further, cannot be interpreted through a direct-realist lens, insofar as it cannot directly correspond to an external state of affairs already existing at the moment the sentence referring to it is uttered. In other words, this is a further case of a non-ontological approach current in Indian philosophical texts (the topic has been recently discussed in this very interesting post by Jayarava).
What do readers think? Further evidences of non-ontological approaches?
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Boundaries and sacredness
One of the characteristics of whatever is "sacred" or "religious" seems to be its being segregated from the corresponding normal behaviour (see M.S.'s point about it in this post). This might mean that walking, eating, cooking, etc., might all be secular as well as religious activities and that the difference lies first and foremost in their context. If the context sets a precise boundary, secluding them from normal experience, then they acquire a religious meaning. This is what would happen within a Vedic ritual, which encompasses all sorts of "normal" activities (such as the one listed above).
Does this apply to language as well? Indian grammarians seem to imply that the correct use of language bestows religious merit. But how does this happen? The topic has been dealt with recently by Paolo Visigalli and Marco Ferrante at the second CBF. I am sure I misunderstood most of their papers, but long summaries might be downloaded here. An intesting way to start the discussion is the first vārttika by Kātyāyana on Pāṇini. The vārttika says:
In George Cardona's translation:
The last point might imply that Grammar imposes a restriction into language and that only a so-restricted language may convey a meaning. Interestingly enough, the clause yathā laukikavaidikeṣu might mean that no language is intrinsically "sacred" (not even Vedic) and that, rather, sacredness depends on the way one adds special constraints to it. These constraints might be those of correctness, but perhaps also of a conscious usage (one which is made correct by Grammar and not just by the fact that one is a native speaker).
The main point seems to be that religious merit (dharma) has to do with a selection among equally possible options (niyama). Do readers know of other contexts of usage of the compound dharmaniyama?
I never blogged specifically on Indian Grammar, but if you look for "Grammar", you will find several posts dedicated to special issues (such as the minimal significant units according to Indian Grammarians, the interactions between Grammar, Mīmāṃsā and Ritual Sūtras, etc.).
Does this apply to language as well? Indian grammarians seem to imply that the correct use of language bestows religious merit. But how does this happen? The topic has been dealt with recently by Paolo Visigalli and Marco Ferrante at the second CBF. I am sure I misunderstood most of their papers, but long summaries might be downloaded here. An intesting way to start the discussion is the first vārttika by Kātyāyana on Pāṇini. The vārttika says:
siddhe śabdārthasaṃbandhe lokato 'rthaprayukte śabdaprayoge śāstreṇa dharmaniyamaḥ yathā laukikavaidikeṣu.
In George Cardona's translation:
It is given from every day communication in the world that there is an established relation between words and meanings; it is also given that the use of a word is prompted by a given meaning in that one uses words in order to convey meanings. This being so, a restriction intended for merit (dharmaniyamaḥ) is established by the grammar, like in common and Vedic words.
The last point might imply that Grammar imposes a restriction into language and that only a so-restricted language may convey a meaning. Interestingly enough, the clause yathā laukikavaidikeṣu might mean that no language is intrinsically "sacred" (not even Vedic) and that, rather, sacredness depends on the way one adds special constraints to it. These constraints might be those of correctness, but perhaps also of a conscious usage (one which is made correct by Grammar and not just by the fact that one is a native speaker).
The main point seems to be that religious merit (dharma) has to do with a selection among equally possible options (niyama). Do readers know of other contexts of usage of the compound dharmaniyama?
I never blogged specifically on Indian Grammar, but if you look for "Grammar", you will find several posts dedicated to special issues (such as the minimal significant units according to Indian Grammarians, the interactions between Grammar, Mīmāṃsā and Ritual Sūtras, etc.).
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
The sentence-meaning? What is added over the word-meaning
One can understand what is the sentence-meaning if one compares it with the meaning of the word-meanings composing the sentence. Is it their sheer sum? Something completely different? Jayanta proposes that it is the additional element over the meanings of the words taken singularly.
Jayanta Bhaṭṭa's Nyāyamañjarī, 5:
(na ca padārthavyatirikto nāsti vākyārthaḥ | idaṃ tāvad bhavān pṛṣṭo vyācaṣṭāṃ | kiṃ gaur iti padādyādṛśī pratipattis tādṛśyeva gauḥ śukla ānīyatām iti vākyād uta bhinne ete pratipattī iti |
tatra tulyatvaṃ tāvat pratipattyor anubhavaviruddham | vailakṣaṇye tu pratītyor viṣayavailoakṣaṇyam api balād upanatam asati viṣayabhede pratītibhedānupapatteḥ | taś ca tad atirikto viṣayḥ sa vākyārthaḥ | evaṃ kevalaguṇakriyāpadoccāraṇe ’pi yojanīyam | tad uktaṃ yatrādhikyaṃ sa vākyārtha iti | )
For further references to posts dedicated to Jayanta and to his linguistic theories, see here.
Jayanta Bhaṭṭa's Nyāyamañjarī, 5:
Nor is it the case that there is no sentence-meaning separated from word-meanings. That, to begin with, you (the PP) should explain, if you are asked to: "Is there a cognition similar to the word cow, etc., arising from "Bring the white cow!" or are the two cognitions different? In this regard, we should start by saying (tāvat) the sameness of the two runs against direct experience. In the case of a difference of the two cognitions, by contrast, also a difference in their contents is forcibly (balāt) produced (upanata), since if there were no difference in content one would not grasp a difference in the cognitions. And that content which is separated from them (content of the words) is the sentence-meaning. In this way, it should be construed also in case only a word signifying a quality or an action has been pronounced (i.e., even in the case of sentences made of one word only, there is something additional over the sheer meaning of the word).
Therefore it has been said that the sentence-meaning is that in which there is something additional.
(na ca padārthavyatirikto nāsti vākyārthaḥ | idaṃ tāvad bhavān pṛṣṭo vyācaṣṭāṃ | kiṃ gaur iti padādyādṛśī pratipattis tādṛśyeva gauḥ śukla ānīyatām iti vākyād uta bhinne ete pratipattī iti |
tatra tulyatvaṃ tāvat pratipattyor anubhavaviruddham | vailakṣaṇye tu pratītyor viṣayavailoakṣaṇyam api balād upanatam asati viṣayabhede pratītibhedānupapatteḥ | taś ca tad atirikto viṣayḥ sa vākyārthaḥ | evaṃ kevalaguṇakriyāpadoccāraṇe ’pi yojanīyam | tad uktaṃ yatrādhikyaṃ sa vākyārtha iti | )
For further references to posts dedicated to Jayanta and to his linguistic theories, see here.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
"Artha" and "meaning"
All linguists have struggled with the problem of signification. What is meant by a word? An external object? A mental one?
All philosophers of language have struggled with Frege. Does he mean to say that the "meaning" (Bedeutung) is nothing but the entity meant through a word? Or does Bedeutung include also cases such as "Ulysses" for those who believe in his existence?
All Sanskrit scholars have struggled with the translation of artha. Is it the intra-linguistic "sense" of a word? Is it the external referent? Or an half-way "meaning"?
In his review of Eivind Kahrs' Indian Semantic Analysis, Peter Scharf seems quite sure that artha signifies a cognition:
Some lines before, he had explained that:
Hence, artha is a sort of cognition (pratyaya), caused by a linguistic element and usally corresponding to an external object. The latter is also called artha, according to Scharf (if I am interpreting him correctly —if not, let me suggest that he could have expressed his point more clearly):
This seems to partially contradict J. Bronkhorst's claim that Indian authors did not differentiate between exernal reality and its linguistic expression. It also contradicts K. Potter's idea that Indian authors anticipated the "linguistic turn" of Analytic Philosophy. They rather —so Scharf— did not care to eliminate the mental aspect of language and, hence, did not focus on the link between this and "external reality". There is normally a link, but it is not part of the signification-relation.
Of course, Scharf would not deny that artha has also an ontological meaning (as in the list of padārthas) and an epistemological status (as that which is caused to be known, pratīta). Not to speak of its prescriptive aspect in Mīmāṃsā. How much interconnected are these aspects? Could not the linguistic artha be nothing but the epistemological one? And how "solid" is the ontological artha? The term padārtha still suggests a rather epistemological focus…
All philosophers of language have struggled with Frege. Does he mean to say that the "meaning" (Bedeutung) is nothing but the entity meant through a word? Or does Bedeutung include also cases such as "Ulysses" for those who believe in his existence?
All Sanskrit scholars have struggled with the translation of artha. Is it the intra-linguistic "sense" of a word? Is it the external referent? Or an half-way "meaning"?
In his review of Eivind Kahrs' Indian Semantic Analysis, Peter Scharf seems quite sure that artha signifies a cognition:
This enduring mental cognition brought about by the utterance of the speech form is truly the object bearing the word-meaning relation to the speech form and may be translated […] by […] "meaning" (JAOS 2001:120).
Some lines before, he had explained that:
Cognition brought about by a speech form (verbal cognition śābdabodha) is of a certain type (ākāra) which generally corresponds to an object which exists independently of the cognizer but need not, for instance, in the case of words for imaginary objects.
Hence, artha is a sort of cognition (pratyaya), caused by a linguistic element and usally corresponding to an external object. The latter is also called artha, according to Scharf (if I am interpreting him correctly —if not, let me suggest that he could have expressed his point more clearly):
In these contexts meaning is denotation: the causing of cognition (buddhi, pratyaya) of an object (artha). The object is either an abstract generic property (jāti, ākṛti), an individual object (vyakti, dravya), or in certain limited contexts […] a shape (ākṛti).What does "denotation" mean in this context? It might be a translation of Bedeutung, since Scharf concludes as referred to in the first quote. He then adds that the mental aspect of meaning is not something to be avoided or get rid off, since Indian authors did not even try to explain what is denoted by a word by refererring to external objects alone:
Since the Indian linguists were not hung up on behaviorism, they did not recognizing mental phenomena, were not preoccupied in defining meaning in purely extensional terms, and so did not share the confusion prevalent in contemporary Western philosophy of language […].
This seems to partially contradict J. Bronkhorst's claim that Indian authors did not differentiate between exernal reality and its linguistic expression. It also contradicts K. Potter's idea that Indian authors anticipated the "linguistic turn" of Analytic Philosophy. They rather —so Scharf— did not care to eliminate the mental aspect of language and, hence, did not focus on the link between this and "external reality". There is normally a link, but it is not part of the signification-relation.
Of course, Scharf would not deny that artha has also an ontological meaning (as in the list of padārthas) and an epistemological status (as that which is caused to be known, pratīta). Not to speak of its prescriptive aspect in Mīmāṃsā. How much interconnected are these aspects? Could not the linguistic artha be nothing but the epistemological one? And how "solid" is the ontological artha? The term padārtha still suggests a rather epistemological focus…
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Can we connect meant entities acquired through different sources in a single notion?
We can doubtlessly get a composite notion of something through sensible data acquired at different times and places. For instance, my notion of the Colosseum consists of data acquired through many cases of linguistic communication and of sense perception, through inference and perhaps also through analogy.
But the Bhāṭṭas also claim that this is simultaneously possible. I would be able to get a composite notion at once, if I were to touch and see the same thing I am hearing you talking about, for instance. This view has a linguistic consequence, too, since it makes it possible for the entities meant by words to connect and convey a sentence-meaning. On the contrary, Prābhākaras claim that only connected words can yield a unified sentence-meaning. For them, there is no unitary notion out of data acquired through different means of knowledge. Once something has been known, it can connect to something else only through a second-order epistemological operation, such as a further inference.
I happened to read an odd passage on this theme in Rāmānujācārya's Tantrarahasya. The passage runs as follows:
The Prābhākara opponent in the Tantrarahasya maintains that one
The substrates of the sensible data, namely, of the colour white and of the sound of clasping are inferred because there is no colour without a substance, nor sound without a substance. The second substance is more precisely inferred due to one's experience of hooves' clasping.
The gist of the argument is clear: the notion that a white horse is running is the result of a second-order epistemological activity. However, the form of the argument seems unsound. At stage 3, one was already able to connect horse and running. Hence, why should one go back to the horse alone at stage 4, thus needing also stage 5? On the contrary, Kumārila's version had one infer the horse out of neighing and the going out of the sound of clasping. Rāmānujācārya has quoted Kumārila some lines above, hence why should he misrepresent the theory, in a way which, moreover, does not ultimately favour the Prābhākara view?
Can readers see better than I do?
But the Bhāṭṭas also claim that this is simultaneously possible. I would be able to get a composite notion at once, if I were to touch and see the same thing I am hearing you talking about, for instance. This view has a linguistic consequence, too, since it makes it possible for the entities meant by words to connect and convey a sentence-meaning. On the contrary, Prābhākaras claim that only connected words can yield a unified sentence-meaning. For them, there is no unitary notion out of data acquired through different means of knowledge. Once something has been known, it can connect to something else only through a second-order epistemological operation, such as a further inference.
I happened to read an odd passage on this theme in Rāmānujācārya's Tantrarahasya. The passage runs as follows:
Hence, Kumārila claims that by seeing an indistinct white form, hearing a sound of neighing and hearing the sound of clasping hooves one gets at once the composite notion "a white horse is running". On the other hand, the Prābhākaras maintain that such notion is the end-result of a sum of inferences.
«On the contrary, it is commonly seen that also [meant entities] conveyed (pratipad-) by different instruments of knowledge can cause to know a composite (saṃsarga) [notion]. For instance, the composite (saṃsarga) notion “a white horse is running” is commonly seen in the case of one who perceives (pratipad-) through direct perception (pratyakṣa) a whiteness, whose substratum (āśraya) is unknown; infers through the noise (rava) of neighing (heṣā) a horse, whose visible form is [for him] unknown; and infers through the sound (śabda) of hooves’ (khura, puṭa) clashing a going, whose author is unknown. It has been said [by Kumārila]:
For one who sees a white form (ārūpa) and hears the sound of neighing |
and the sound of hooves clashing, the notion (dhī) “a white horse is running” ||
is commonly seen, [even] without a sentence |
(ŚV vākya 358-359a)
The Prābhākara opponent in the Tantrarahasya maintains that one
- 1. sees a white shape moving
- 2. hears hooves clasping
- 3. infers a substrate which is both running and a horse out of the sound of hooves
- 4. connects the inferred white-thing with the inferred horse and ascertains through cogent evidence (anyathānupapatti) ``A white horse".
- 5. connects the white horse with the running, which must have a substrate, and ascertains through anyathānupapatti ``A white horse is running".
The substrates of the sensible data, namely, of the colour white and of the sound of clasping are inferred because there is no colour without a substance, nor sound without a substance. The second substance is more precisely inferred due to one's experience of hooves' clasping.
The gist of the argument is clear: the notion that a white horse is running is the result of a second-order epistemological activity. However, the form of the argument seems unsound. At stage 3, one was already able to connect horse and running. Hence, why should one go back to the horse alone at stage 4, thus needing also stage 5? On the contrary, Kumārila's version had one infer the horse out of neighing and the going out of the sound of clasping. Rāmānujācārya has quoted Kumārila some lines above, hence why should he misrepresent the theory, in a way which, moreover, does not ultimately favour the Prābhākara view?
Can readers see better than I do?
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Stoicism in Mīmāṃsā?
Indian authors distinguish between fixed (nitya), occasional (naimittika) and optional (kāmya) sacrifices. The role of desire in the latter ones is obvious: one would not perform a sacrifice for rain, unless s/he desired rain. So, the agent of the vṛṣṭikāmeṣṭi is "one who is desirous of rain". On the other hand, the first and the second kind of sacrifices are usually described as mandatory, regardless of what one might or might not desire. The agnihotra, a typical example of the first kind, is to be performed daily throughout one's life. The jātakarman, an example of the second kind, is compulsory required at the birth of a son. The agent of these two kinds of sacrifice seems to operate independently of desire, just for the sake of obeying the Veda.
But, in fact, the Mīmāṃsā understanding of the agent of sacrifices is the same in all cases. Fixed rituals are to be performed throughout one's life because their agent is identified as "one who is desirous of heaven". And heaven (svarga), explains Śabara means "happiness", and everyone longs for happiness. So, the reason why the agnihotra is a fixed ritual is that the condition for performing it will never cease. One will desire happiness until her very last day, and that is why s/he is bound to perform it until her/his very last day.
But what about the case where a specific sacrificer is supplied, but no hint of a desire is left (e.g., in occasional rituals, with formulas like "the one whose son was just born should perform the ritual …")? In order to make sense of these cases, Rāmānujācārya (and other authors?) has to abandon his usual Mīmāṃsā 'down-to-earth' attitude. In TR IV §10.11 he answers that the very non-performance of a prescribed duty is, for cultivated people, something one has to desire to avoid: "In fact, dharma is also one of the human purposes (puruṣārtha)". In saying so, Rāmānujācārya interprets artha as goal and connects it automatically with one's natural desire.
More in general, since heaven is explicitly (see Matilal 1986) stated to be a soul’s condition and not a physical place, a “stoical” way out telling us that the fulfilment of one’s duty causes a man to be happy, is always possible.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Prescriptions embedding actions
According to the hermeneutic of Sacred Texts devised by the followers of Kumārila Bhaṭṭa, the linguistic bhāvanā constituting the prescription first requires (through expectation, ākāṅkṣā) an object to be brought about, that is, the purpose[-oriented] bhāvanā (arthabhāvanā). This is also conveyed by the prescriptive verbal suffix (just as it would be by any other finite verbal suffix), more precisely by its finite verbal component (ākhyātatva).
In order to fulfil the role of the result that must be accomplished, this bhāvanā must be somehow desirable (the action noun ākāṅkṣā retaining its desiderative shade of meaning). Since, however, the undertaking of an action is not desirable in itself, one must assume that it is indirectly desirable given that it is the means for achieving something desirable. In this way, although sacrificing is not in itself an agreeable activity, one undertakes it as if it were something desirable because one longs for the sacrifice's result, e.g., heaven.
In fact, the purpose[-oriented] bhāvanā also requires an object to be achieved thereby. The first candidate, because of proximity, is the meaning of the verbal root, since it is part of the same verbal form whose ending conveys the objective bhāvanā. However, the meaning of the verbal root is not by itself desirable and cannot hence fulfil the role of the bhāvya. This is, instead, revealed within the same prescription by an expression such as “one-who-is-desirous-of-heaven” (svargakāma), which indirectly indicates the sacrifice’s result, whereby “heaven” can be replaced by “cattle”, “a son”, “rain”, etc.
Immediately thereafter, the question arises “how can this result be achieved?” To answer this, the verbal root is connected to the bhāvanā as its instrument. Hence, by hearing “one who is desirous of heaven should sacrifice”, one simultaneously understands an urging (the linguistic bhāvanā), the contents of this urging (the undertaking of an action or purpose[-oriented] bhāvanā), its result (heaven) and the instrument for its achievement (the sacrifice). But the expectation is not completely appeased, insofar as the mere knowledge that heaven is to be achieved through a sacrifice is not enough. One also needs to know how this sacrifice will be instrumental for the arising of this result. Consequently, a procedure is also required, which is offered through the other sentences describing the sacrifice.
Summing up,
object to be brought about, e.g., heaven
↗
bhāvanā → instrument, e.g., sacrifice
↘
procedure, e.g., rites composing the sacrifice
And:
object to be brought about (heaven)
↗
object to be brought about, e.g.,bhāvanā →instrument (sacrifice)
↗ ↘
śabdabhāvanā → instrument procedure
↘
procedure
Lastly, since the sacrifice would not be a suitable instrument (as it does not last until the arousal of the result, as the Prābhākara point out), a new potency, arisen through the sacrifice and lasting until the result is also necessarily connected as an intermediate element.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Necessity of Desire
I have argued here (in Italian) and here (in English) that desire is essential for action in Mīmāṃsā philosophy. In fact, Mīmāṃsā authors cannot even imagine a human being who acts if not because of desire. Hence, human desire has a role even in the Veda. The latter could not make people perform the rituals it entails if it could not prompt them. And in order to prompt them, it needs to single them out of the generic mass of human beings. In order to identify them, the Veda uses, again, desire. All rituals are not prescribed for generic human beings, since in this case no one would feel the prescription as regarding him/her directly and the rituals woudl remain non-performed. On the contrary, the Veda prescribes rituals to specific people, identified through their desires. It prescribes, for instance, a putrakāmeṣti to one who desires a son, a darśapūrṇamāsa sacrifice to one who desires heaven (=happiness) and so on. Hence, desire is not in itself part of the sacrifice, but it is required in order to get to the sacrifice one of its principal elements, the sacrificer.
When the sacrificer is specified in a different way (with formulas like "the one whose son was just born should perform the ritual …"), the desire is no longer needed by the Veda. It is, on the other hand, still needed by the person to engage into the action.
How do these two points harmonise? If desire is needed, why do people engage in sacrifices, who seemingly do not bear any result? Rāmānujācārya (Tantrarahasya IV, §10.5) can explain away most cases since he says that in the viśvajit and in similar sacrifices, where no specific person is prompted, one has to postulate as sacrificer someone who is desirous of haven. In fact, since 'heaven' means happiness according to the Śabarabhāṣya, this specification will suit everyone. In this way, one has satisfied at the same time the need for a specific sacrificer and that for a result to strive for.
But what about the case where a specific sacrificer is supplied, but no hint of a desire is left (see the formula mentioned above)? In order to make sense of these cases, Rāmānujācārya (and other authors?) has to abandon his usual Mīmāṃsā 'down-to-earth' attitude. In §10.11 he answers that the very non-performance of a prescribed duty is, for cultivated people, something one desires to avoid. "In fact, dharma is also one of the human purposes (puruṣārtha)". In saying so, Rāmānujācārya interprets artha as goal and connects it automatically with one's natural desire.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Action as Effort
I am changing my mind about what Kumārila meant with arthabhāvanā. In fact, he defines it as parispandarūpam ("having the nature of a movement") and never uses the term prayatna (effort). Moreover, Maṇḍana, who followed Kumārila in admitting two different forces, described the bhāvanā as meaning both effort and movement. It is only with Someśvara that the definition of bhāvanā as exclusively effort becomes current. This does not clash with Kumārila, who defined the bhāvanā as "activity of the promoting subject", thus preparing the equation with effort. Still, it is not Kumārila's own elaboration. But to detect an innovation in Someśvara makes his claim that arthabhāvanā means "the force caused by the desiring [subject]" (see previous posts) less plausible. It is easier to figure out that Someśvara (consciously or not) innovated in regard to the equation bhāvanā/effort and, consequently, interpreted arthabhāvanā as synonym of prayatnavantaḥ bhāvanā (the activity of one who makes an effort). On the other hand, the definitions of bhāvanā by Kumārila seem still less precise.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Someśvara on effort and the meaning of arthabhāvanā
Someśvara aptly connects effort (prayatna) and its result, bodily movement (śarīraparispanda). The former implies even subtler forms of effort, since among the examples mentioned there are not just going or cooking or sacrificing, but also dhyāna (meditation): dhyāne 'ham prayate (Nyāyasudhā 1909, p. 577). Hence, Someśvara can consequently explain artha- in arthabhāvanā as referring to the subject who strives for a certain result (arthayate). He might be historically wrong, insofar as his interpretation of the bhāvanā as mainly located in the person who strives for something is not necessarily the same as Kumārila's one. The latter seems to be still more inclined to a concept of bhāvanā as movement (or activity, vyāpāra). Still, Someśvara's proposal is consistent and interesting.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Why should one study/teach Sanskrit?
A recent post by Amod Lele (http://loveofallwisdom.com/2009/06/neither-career-nor-hobby/) has the advantage of putting the question of the use of what we (=students and scholars of "unuseful" subjects) are doing in its right terms. One can also see a comment about a similar dilemma in the field of art (http://haikujaguar.livejournal.com/640442.html).
Through a degree and then a PhD in Sanskrit, one does not learn any "professional" skill apart from those required to keep on studying and researching in this field. So, since it is hardly the case that the number of professors/research fellows etc. in Sanskrit need to increase, why should one study Sanskrit (or Latin, or History of Dance, or Theory of Cinema, or Moral Philosophy…)?
One could suggest that confrontation with other cultures, critical thinking, sensibility enhancement (as the one one achieves through reading poetry) all contribute to one's formation as a better person. But what does this mean? In which sense is one "better"? Is one happier? Is one nicer to others? I doubt that the first answer can be answered affirmatively. One does not become happier through enhanced thinking and feeling abilities (often, the opposite is true, as underlined by Wittgenstein). Personally, I am suspicious about all kinds of philosophy as "consolation" (they seem to me to narrow down the potentiality of philosophy).
On the other hand, it is probably true that one who likes to get into philosophical/artistic/theoretic… problems is happier to do it than not. If Aristotle is right, and we all aim at knowing, then it makes sense that studying makes us happier.
But does it make sense to propose Sanskrit (or the rest) just as an interesting subject, or does it have in itself a specific value? This brings me back to the second alternative. Studying Sanskrit may make people better insofar as it increases one's understanding of other people's views. But this is hardly a satisfying reason for making critical editions of obscure texts or producing the translation n.1876 of the Bhagavadgītā. One can translate it for one's own sake (it is such a wonderful text), but it is hardly the case that one's translation will improve other people understanding of the text (see my previous "In praise of reading" post about my skepticism on writing before/without having read –and there are too many translations of the BhG to read them all before starting a new one).
Monday, July 20, 2009
Dolphins and ethical theories
In an interesting book (Dependent Rational Animals: Why Human Beings Need the Virtues), Alasdair C. McIntyre develops a sort of "ethics" for dolphins. He chooses dolphins insofar as they are intelligent, though non-human, beings. They can, thus, act because of reasons. His whole theory is based on the idea that a reason to act is "something good in itself that it realises or serves or […] something bad that it avoids". This definition is surprisingly similar to Maṇḍana Miśra's idea that what has to be done is only either something pleasant, or the avoidance of something unpleasant or a means thereto. (Interestingly enough, Maṇḍana develops the same thought as the above one, but starting the other way round, possibly because of his Mīmāṃsā background, which inclines him to take into consideration even authorless exhortations and to stress the importance of the final result).It is possible that one can build a consistent theory of action upon that, but it is hardly the case that a theory of exhortation can work on these presuppositions. Maybe Maṇḍana just did not want to explain that? Maybe his primary focus was action, not exhortation?
Thursday, July 9, 2009
What is an action?
Śabara introduces the label bhāvanā to define an action as something which "causes to be" a result, such as rain in the case of a sacrifice performed in order to get rain.
Kumārila further distinguishes between: 1. activities inhering in a conscious agent (arthabhāvanā) and producing a result; 2. activities non producing a result (and possibly inhering in a non-conscious agent as well), such as "to dwell"; 3. activities inhering in words (śabdabhāvanā) and causing the first ones to be.
His commentators debated about the understanding of those categories. Maṇḍana abolished the distinction between 1. and 2. and defined bhāvanā in general as "prayatna", effort. Someśvara repeated this definition, whereas Pārthasārathi Miśra kept to the older definition and preferred to describe a bhāvanā as anyotpādakavyāpāra, an activity producing something else. The Bhāṭṭa authors successive to them all sided with Someśvara or Pārthasārathi. The first ones explained that, though a bhāvanā typically inheres in a conscious agent, it can only be metaphorically said to inhere in an unconscious one.
Prābhākara authors reply by describing alleged actions as just successions of conjunctions and disjunctions with various locations in the space.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Dance has a purpose, just like mantras
A friend sent me a passage of Abhinavagupta's commentary (Abhinavabhāratī) on Bharata's Nāṭyaśāstra. It is a further instance of the theory of bhāvanā being used as a commonly agreed upon example.
An objector maintains that dance has no meaning. It is replied that, just like mantras are not used because of their meaning, but are nevertheless not to be dispensed with, so also song (and dance is connected to song):
athocyate recakāṅgahāranibandhātmakaṃ yan nṛttaṃ na tena kaścid artho ’bhinīyate | api tu yathā viśiṣṭair mantraiḥ bhāvanāviśeṣaiś cābhyudayasiddhiḥ tathā viśiṣṭadevatāsūcakair mantrais tathā tad gīte cābhyadhāyi
But, like through various mantras and specifications of the bhāvanā (ritual action), good fortune is realised, and so [also] through mantras which suggest various deities, in the same way this has been explained [to occur] in the case of song.
Bhāvanāviśeṣais could hint at commendatory statements (arthavāda), which, like mantras, are also subsidiary to the main ritual action. Dance, hence, does not convey a meaning, but still has a purpose (artha).
If tathā devatāsūcakair mantraiḥ is not just a gloss, two different classes of mantras are pointed out since according to Mīmāṃsakas most mantras are meant to make one recollect the various ritual items, such as the Deities (viśiṣṭadevatāsucaka), whereas there is a minority of them which serves an invisible purpose (and, hence, directly contribute to the bhāvanā).
The text goes on and this is probably just a prima facie view.
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