Imagine a language game in which Wittgenstein invades my thoughts...
Game (S. 66-71)
1. What is a game? "A game is something you try to win." Ah, but what about a game of catch? What about the ambiguous concept of 'winning' in drinking games -- do you want to drink to get drunk, or is it better to remain sober? What about games like 'Duck, Duck, Goose', 'Tag', and 'Hide and Seek'? "OK, I get it: games are hard to define..." But so what? That's not the point. We don't need a definition, because even without one, we can use the word successfully, and everyone knows what we mean. What's more, we can even correct other people when they use the word incorrectly -- despite the fact that we don't have a single, overarching definition of 'game'.
Meaning (S. 1, 39-40, 43, 543-545)
2. "But when I say 'Candy Land', aren't I referring to a specific Milton-Bradley game? Doesn't the meaning attach itself to the object?" Perhaps. But when someone says something, what she means depends both on what is said and the context in which it was spoken. If the meaning of a word just stood for an object, then what happens if the object itself ceases to exist? Does that imply that the word no longer has meaning? "I'm confused. So even though Ada B. is dead, she still exists because I talk about her?" Generally, to know the use of a word means knowing the meaning. So Ada B. means something based on the use of your sentence. 'Ada B. was my sister' means one thing while 'I like the name Ada B.' means something else. In this way, words and gestures take on meaning only within a language game, like a form of culture. "I'm still confused..."
Public vs. Private (S. 262, 268, 243-315)
3. "But doesn't 'Ada B.' mean something privately to me?" If you were to speak the word 'Ada B.' in public, it would be considered nonsense without a certain shared attitude and culture through which you communicate with others. Consider the sentence: 'Dog Ada B. cat runs blanket.' Now consider the sentence: 'Thinking about Ada B. makes me smile.' Your friends know what this means because they know that Ada B. was your sister. Imagine, instead, that thinking about Ada B. makes you feel something that you decide to call X. Except in this case, X has no other verbal expression and can't be defined in words. Suppose, then, that you kept a journal to note down when you felt this. In this way, no one else would understand what you meant by X and whether you diagnosed your feelings correctly. So here, your 'private language' is really no language at all. "What if I said that thinking about Ada B. made me feel blue?" Interesting choice of words. Here is an example where context comes to play. Imagine someone took you to mean that you feel 'the color blue'. Of course, color has no meaning unless nearly all of us agree nearly all the time what color things are. The concept of color exists through regular use and agreement of application as part of language. Thus, it becomes impossible to separate our use of color from the concept of color. "But wait! I wasn't talking about colors. I was talking about feelings." But don't you think it is ultimately the same thing? Our collective use of the word 'blue' to mean 'sad' or 'melancholy' is fundamental in our understanding or disambiguation of 'blue' in your sentence... "You're giving me a headache."
Philosophy (S. 66, 126, 131, 599)
4. "So, let me see if I understand: the theory of language is that words always derive their meanings from their use." No, no, no. I'm not trying to suggest that there is a general explanation for language. Philosophy cannot be so dogmatically localized. Instead, think of the more suitable analogy of 'family resemblance' by which words, meanings, and uses lack specific borders and share overlapping similarities, differences, etc.
Rules (S. 147-148, 185, 201, 243)
5. "But aren't there rules to language? Don't we follow certain rules?" And herein lies the paradox! Consider the equation: (x+3)(x-3). Typically, we would answer this by using the quadratic equation to get: (x^2)-9. Perhaps you are wondering: but how did we learn this rule? How do we follow them? Who decides if we follow the rules correctly? I suggest, however, that these are the wrong questions to be asking. Why must we attempt to locate some sort of external or internal authority to 'rules' beyond their actual application? We must liberate ourselves from such pedantry.
Grammar (S. 222, 496-497)
6. "Ah HA! But what about grammar? Wouldn't grammar have no purpose or sense unless it was dictated by rules?" Simpleton. To use grammar to refer solely to the rules of correct syntax and semantics is naive. Instead, think of grammar as a wider network of socially constructed rules that determine what linguistic move is allowed to make sense, and what isn't. Just think of the word: 'hopefully'. It was considered grammatically incorrect until its misuse was so prevalent (and understood), it became acceptable. In this way, grammar represents cultural norms for the meaningful use of language. It cannot be idealized or essentialized into some external system to which we must conform. Instead, we construct our own social and internal meanings. "Fine, you win. Philosophy is a guide, not an explanation; words derive their meanings from context; language is a public affair; rules are socially constructed; and all this leaves me with a GIANT headache. Please GET OUT OF MY HEAD. BAH."
***No others save the author were hurt in this experiment. Please consider any misunderstandings of Heir Wit to be his fault entirely!
posted by adabunny at 5:59 PM
8 Comments:
I can't stop laughing. DeRaismes, this is at the same time hilarious, brilliant, and so SO helpful.
This is genius. I'll post a longer comment later on, but I just wanted that to be said. Brilliant!
Although there are many themes in Wittgestein’s Philosophical Investigations, I would like to focus on the theme of language and meaning. Wittgenstein seems to suggest that a word means what a word does in a specific, concrete situation. Words serve a function in various communicative games, and their meanings are embedded in these games. One cannot decontextualize the meaning of a word, because the meaning of the word depends on how the word is used.
Broadly speaking, Wittgeinstein seems to resist all attempts at decontextualization, abstraction, and generalization. We see this even in his writing style, which offers no definitions but is full of examples and thought experiments provoking us to think about specific cases. The closest he gets to approaching generalization is in permitting the possibility of families of cases that share family ressemblences. This is quite different from identities based on definitions, or categorization based on shared sine qua non components.
What are the implications for scholars? If we were to take seriously Wittgenstein’s point that meaning lies in the particular, the concrete, and the intersubjective, then we would celebrate case studies and not be so concerned with their generalizability or lack thereof. The attempt to generalize or categorize would be seen as a symptom of lunacy. We would spend less time developing methods to compare homogenous units and more time developping methods to analyze cases sharing “family resemblences.”
So here’s my question to the group: What are methods for analyzing cases sharing “family resemblences”?
And: What are some other implications of Wittgenstein’s philosophy for researchers?
Wittgenstein's philosophy has, of course, led researchers (like Karen Fierke, whose book, Diplomatic Interventions, I draw on here) to pay close attention to language in social practices.
This sort of scholarship ('constitutive constructivist methodology' in IR) speaks of constitution more so than of causation. Indeed, as Fierke notes, “it raises questions about the distinction” between the two concepts, “problematiz[ing] the process by which ‘what is’ is constructed or comes into being as the necessary condition for a causal relationship” (8).
The research is diachronic, documenting changes in discourse. The language by/through which agency is made possible in the first instance—especially as regards the collective actors and identities that so interest IR researchers—is the focus.
I was staring at the blog entries, trying to find something intelligent to write about Wittgenstein's Philsophical Investigation, and coming up with nothing. I think I understand the premise of PI but I am trying to connect it to IR and I'm finding it tough going. I even typed IR and Wittgenstein together in Google Scholar to see what I could find. Interestingly enough, I found him cited in an article by Ruggie and how he (among others) "shattered" Enlightenment and optimism. Who wants that on their tombstone or urn?. But it seems like he is very citeable in the way that one would other great theorists -- their name is enough and if you are any bit of a scholar, you'd know what that name meant (hopefully). Does this mean I know the IR scholar language game? If I were to say Habermas to a friend of mine, I'd get a blank look, as opposed to if I said Habermas to someone in our cohort, his name would have all sorts of meanings. This is also gets back to Tatiana's point -- is my dropping Habermas' name a medal of honor -- perhaps somewhat unearned if I didn't actually read Habermas (or understand him) but am instead quoting him as others have quoted him before me? Does it even matter? Maybe Habermas is our Slab!
ha, ha...
Habermas! (exasperation)
Habermas? (who?)
Habermas!$#*@! (bad naughty)
Habermas. (statement)
FYI, I will be instigating this at all social events from now on (in my capacity as social chair) wherefore every time someone is forced to respond with 'Habermas' everyone must drink. Yes, it will be AWESOME. And yes, Namalie and Tatiana, that is TOTALLY a badge of honor for us!!!
In all seriousness, and using DeRaismes' post as an example, I am left unsure as to how to talk about Wittgenstein's Philosophical Investigations. Her post is what I too am left with. Every time I try to summarize the book, or apply it to my own interest, or criticize it, a passage comes back to me and refutes my claim to truth before I make it. The experience of Wittgenstein ruins my assumptions, and leaves my perception in shambles.
What, then, is the practical use of his philosophy? Is it productive even though it tears down rather than builds up? (And here come the questions, flooding in: what does "productive" mean? How am I construing it? How is that word applied elsewhere?).
I suppose that is what I will be bringing into our discussion: what is the use of Wittgenstein?
Sonja, I think the value -- at least for me -- lies in the ability to question things like 'what does productive mean' and figure out an answer that works for you. Or, in an IR context, it helps us 'know' that we don't know. So, democracy might be one thing to one person and another to someone else. If we go in knowing that these plural definitions are possible (and likely probable), I think it can root our scholarship in a stronger sort of defense. Meaning, we articulate what we mean without assuming everyone already knows. We articulate why it means whatever it does, and perhaps why it means something different from the traditional connotation... In some way, it makes us analyze our presuppositions to understand why we think certain things, what exactly we think, and how we think it. This strikes me as a good thing...
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