Boris quotes me. . .:

"My lengthy earlier posting tried to convey the dangers of suggesting that 
tools -- whether they be words or wrenches -- have goals, intentions, 
"meanings"."

. . .and then he writes:

"Is there any purpose in having words ?
To say no is absurd, but to say yes is to admit of the words purpose for 
speech communication, as meaningful information carrier.

Two of the ancestral words from which 'slur' is derived meant 'a thin mud' 
and 'to slide over'. I've cited what might be called a "slurring muddle". 
It's when a human "purpose", goal, aim or intent is imputed to the tool used 
to achieve that purpose.   

"The purpose of that tiny screwdriver is to tighten my eyeglasses." "The 
purpose of that peculiar-looking wrench is to tighten nuts in hard-to-reach 
places."

There is very little confusion when the tools are material objects like 
that. Most reasonable people would concede at once that the screwdriver does 
not "have a purpose" in the sense of aims, desires, goals, intentions. They 
may say, "When I say 'the purpose' of the tool I mean that's its utility, its 
intended function, what it was invented for."

But we have to see that, even though we use the same word for both, our 
notion of a human's "purpose" is different from our notion of a tool's 
"purpose". 

The philosophically harmful muddle comes when the "tool" is a WORD.

One of the tools we regularly use to accomplish our intended end, our 
purpose, is "language". Our purpose in using words is to convey "what we have 
in 
mind" -- our idea, our notion. A bit more precisely:   We want to cause to 
arise in another person's mind a notion that serviceably replicates the 
notion WE have in mind (assuming that are not intending to deceive).

We often speak of that notion as "our meaning": "No - you didn't get my 
meaning!" This sense of "meaning" is different from what we have in mind when 
we speak of "THE meaning of" something. "No, no - you don't get the meaning 
of that poem." "What's the meaning of 'apelsin' in Swedish?" 
(Philosophically, there is ALWAYS a certain amount of confusion when we speak 
of 'THE 
meaning of' something.)

For example, down the street from my childhood home there is still the 
stump of a large oak tree. When I was six, there was a hurricane, and, to the 
horror of my mother, I managed to slip out of the house in the middle of gale. 
I passed by that oak tree twice that day - as I walked away from my house, 
and as I returned home. The next day I heard the tree had blown over and it 
had struck and killed another child about my age (whom I did not know). I 
went to look at the scene. The fallen tree was already cleared away, but there 
was still an enormous blood stain on the sidewalk. It did not escape me 
that that blood could have been mine.

To this day, I might say, "That oak stump has a special meaning for me." 
But I know that my feelings are not "THE meaning of" the stump. (I have no 
illusions that there exists a "THE meaning" of that stump. I believe there 
exist no such abstract entities as non-notional "meanings".) 

To grasp the scope of the slurring muddle with words, consider this. We 
say, "I mean", and we say, "The word means." We talk of "my meaning", and we 
talk of "the meaning of the word". We discuss "our purpose," and we discuss 
"the word's purpose"

When we say, "I mean. . .", our audience usually understands that we are 
trying to describe our "idea" or feeling, the notion, the mental entity in our 
mind at that moment. (Don't let the definite article 'the' there lull you 
into believing your notion is discrete and stable. It never is - but it's 
often serviceable enough "for all intents and purposes".)

And we often use both 'meaning' and 'purpose' in the sense of "intention": 
"I meant to tighten that screw."

And, as with 'fight' or 'link', we use the same word - 'meaning' - whether 
we have in mind the action of "meaning" something, or the notion "meant". 

These and other deluding characteristics of language can lead to heaps of 
confusion - more so as the objects being considered are less concrete; the 
word 'hammer' will not mislead as much as words like 'meaning', 'purpose', 
'category' et al. Which entails that the language of philosophy is a land of 
notional quicksand.   

In the end, these characteristics abet us to ascribe, in typical slurring 
fashion, OUR purpose to the word, OUR "meaning", to the word. But WE are the 
ones doing the "meaning", WE are the ones who have in mind the notion that 
is "meant", We are the ones who have the intention, the purpose. And yet, 
because it is the tool we're using, we soon find ourselves saying the WORD does 
all those things. 

Consider again Boris's riposte:

"Is there any purpose in having words?" There's an ambiguity to the phrase, 
and, though I can't know what ran through Boris's mind, I think he might 
agree to this rephrasing: "Did the early humans develop language because they 
had goals, desires, in mind that they perceived words could help them to 
achieve?"

But someone of Boris's persuasion might object to my eliminating the word 
'purpose'; he might reject my attempt to replace it with 'the goals, the 
desires', because he senses such things belong to humans, and not to the words, 
and it seems silly to talk about the "desires" that words have. He clings to 
the idea that words "have" a "purpose", without noticing that his notion 
behind 'purpose' has slurringly moved from goal, intent, to mere "utility". I 
agree that words have a utility, a usefulness, but the words themselves have 
no goals, no desires, any more than a wrench does. 

Where this slurring becomes pernicious is when "meaning" enters the 
discussion. We say the speaker has a purpose (goals, intents), and the slurring 
mind soon erroneously ascribes such "purpose" to the words. Similarly, we may 
acceptably say the speaker "means" something in the sense that he has a 
notion in mind that he wants to convey to others. The great error is when we 
come 
to ascribe the "meaning" to the words. 

(Pause. The second most misleading word in our language is the verb 'to 
have'. I'm quite aware of how loony this sounds at first hearing, but I need to 
say it: "Having" never happens. We say John "has" money in the bank, this 
apartment "has" a nice view, people "have" names, words "have" meanings. But 
the alleged act of "having" isn't just an invisible event, it's imaginary, a 
verbal dodge -- "having" never happens. In particular, words don't "have" 
meanings. Reading or hearing them can occasion notion in a reader's mind, but 
it's not because the words "have" "meanings". I inject this pause here, 
because I know I have myself used in this posting the word 'have' -- and 
related terms such as 'belong to'.   But the confusion caused by my using them 
here is not as harmful as would be the elaborate explanatory circumlocutions 
I'd have to devise to get around 'have'. Philosophy is hard; sure, the 
"concepts" it entertains are challenging, but the renegade recalcitrance of 
language is, I think, the higher hurdle.)    

(To be continued.)

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