How should we interpret second-order quantifiers? In this paper I
argue that we cannot interpret second-order quantifiers as ranging over
relations—not if second-order existential introduction is taken to be a
straightforward generalization of first-order existential
introduction.
My primary argument takes the form of a dilemma. Either pairs of
mutually converse predicates, such as ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’, refer to the same underlying
relation or they refer to distinct converse relations. If they refer to
the same relation, then we lack the supply of higher-order predicates
required to interpret second-order quantifiers as ranging over a domain
of relations. The higher-order predicates required for such an
interpretation of second-order quantifiers are predicates true or false
of the referents of lower-order predicates—that is, true or false
independently of how the referents of those lower-order predicates are
specified. But if mutually converse predicates co-refer, then we lack
the supply of higher-order predicates required for such an
interpretation. If, by contrast, mutually converse predicates refer to
distinct converse relations, then whilst we can at least make abstract
sense of the higher-order predicates required to interpret quantifiers
as ranging over a domain of relations, the implausible consequences for
the content of lower-order constructions render this interpretation of
higher-order quantifiers a deeply implausible semantic hypothesis.
There has been a great deal of recent discussion both about whether
or not there are converse relations and about whether we should
interpret second-order quantification in terms of a range of properties
and relations or otherwise. But these two debates have been conducted
separately and independently of one another. Here I seek to show that
there are important connections between them.
Some preliminaries. For brevity I state my argument in terms of
binary relations but it is intended to generalize to relations of
greater arity. By a second-order language I will mean one in which the
second-order quantifier rules are a straightforward generalization of
the first-order quantifier rules, allowing for the introduction of the
second-order existential quantifier into predicate position, and where
these rules are supplemented with the Axiom Scheme of Comprehension
according to which, roughly speaking, every predicate determines a
relation (see Shapiro 1991,
66–67; Fine 2002,
103; and Williamson 2013, 227–229). What are
mutually converse predicates? For present purposes, I take any two
binary predicates \(U\) and \(V\) to be mutual converses iff, for any
terms \(t\), \(t'\), it is guaranteed by the rules of
the language that \(tUt'\) is true
iff \(t'Vt\) is true.
Similarly, \(R\) and \(R^{*}\) are mutual converse relations iff,
for any particulars \(x\), \(y\), \(xRy\) iff \(yR^{*}x\), not as a matter of accident but
metaphysical necessity.
Finally, what is a second-order predicate? A first-order predicate
(say of the form ‘\(F\xi\)’) results
from the extraction of one or more names (‘\(a\)’) from a closed sentence (‘\(Fa\)’) in which it occurs and inserting a
variable in the resulting gap. A second-order predicate (say, of the
form ‘\(\exists x \Phi x\)’) results
from the extraction of a first-order predicate (‘\(F\xi\)’) from a closed sentence (‘\(\exists xFx\)’) and inserting a variable
into the resulting gap. Our focus here will be binary
first-order predicates (‘\(\xi R
\zeta\)’) which result from the extraction of two names from a
closed sentence (‘\(aRb\)’) and unary
second-order predicates (‘\(a \Phi
b\)’) which result from the extraction of a binary first-order
predicate from a closed sentence.
Converse Predicates and
Co-reference
Whatever is true of an object picked out by a singular term is true
of something. That’s the primordial idea that justifies the operation of
first-order existential introduction. But if converse predicates
co-refer the operation of second-order existential introduction cannot
be justified along such lines. To present my argument for this claim I
begin by describing one semantic motivation for supposing that converse
predicates co-refer.
It may appear that we are up to our necks in ontological commitment
to converse relations because in English, but not only in English, we
have the active and passive voice for many verbs and an abundance of
adjectives, adverbs and so on whose reciprocal behavior is readily
modeled by converse relations: ‘above’ and ‘below’, ‘before’ and
‘after’, ‘greater’ and ‘less’, et cetera. But there’s no need
to posit converse relations to explain the reciprocal behavior of
converse predicates. This is because the behavior of converse predicates
can be explained more parsimoniously in terms of converse rules for
their employment. The rules in question map the contexts in which pairs
of mutually converse predicates occur onto the same configuration of
things-in-relation, so there is no need to posit separate configurations
of things-in-relation.
The matter can be considered from a more general perspective on
representation. In order to systematically represent things-in-relation
we use signs-in-relation; we encode information about how things are
related by how we relate signs together.
Invariably there is more than one way of configuring signs to encode the
same information about how things are related and we can switch between
them so long as we keep track of the different means whereby different
configurations of signs encode the relevant information.
Consider the worldly configuration of things-in-relation, famously
depicted in the Alexander Mosaic, which consists of Alexander
sitting astride Bucephalus at the Battle of Issus. The statement
‘Alexander is on top of Bucephalus’ effectively encodes how Alexander is
related to Bucephalus by one arrangement of signs along a horizontal
line. The statement ‘Bucephalus is underneath Alexander’ no less
effectively encodes the same information by another arrangement of
signs. Neither statement constitutes a privileged encoding of how
Alexander and Bucephalus are related. One is as good as another because
it is a matter of convention how we encode information about the
vertical arrangement of Alexander and Bucephalus by placing their names
along a horizontal line. There are two conventions one might employ: (a)
placing the name of the thing which is on top to the left and the name
of the thing underneath to the right; (b) placing the name of the thing
underneath on the left and the name of the thing on top to the right.
When we use the predicate ‘\(\xi\) is
on top of \(\zeta\)’ we signal that we
are exploiting convention (a) to encode information about how things are
related by the spatial relation which ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ stands for, whereas when we use
‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ we are exploiting convention (b)
to encode information about the obtaining of the same relation. Grasping
the rules for ‘\(\xi\) is on top of
\(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ we understand straightaway that
‘Alexander is on top of Bucephalus’ represents the same worldly
configuration as ‘Bucephalus is underneath Alexander’. Accordingly, we
also understand that what we represent concerning Alexander and
Bucephalus using ‘\(\xi\) is on top of
\(\zeta\)’ could have been equally well
represented using only ‘\(\xi\) is
underneath \(\zeta\)’ and vice versa—so
we could have succeeded in describing how Alexander and Bucephalus are
depicted by the Alexander Mosaic in relation to one another if
we’d been provided with only one of this pair of converse predicates.
But the primary argument here isn’t that we only need one predicate and
so only one relation. Nor is the argument that there is only one
relation here because one predicate can be defined in terms of the
other. It is rather that the contexts ‘Alexander is on top of
Bucephalus’ and ‘Bucephalus is underneath Alexander’ are mapped by the
correlated conventions of their respective predicates onto the same
worldly configuration of Alexander and Bucephalus and so there is no
need to posit different configurations involving different relations to
correspond separately to them.
A similar story can be told about other pairs of mutually converse
predicates in English—for example the active and passive forms of a verb
(‘\(\xi\) kissed \(\zeta\)’, ‘\(\xi\) was kissed by \(\zeta\)’). They don’t stand for different
relations but the same relation, albeit relative to contrary conventions
about how to exploit the arrangement of prefixed and appended signs to
represent how the things for which the signs stand are related by
whatever relation is picked out by the predicate the signs prefix and
append.
Converse Predicates and the
Division of Semantic Labour
Objectual quantification involves quantification over a domain of
entities (whether first-order or second-order). In this section I will
argue that the intelligibility of objectual quantification presupposes a
principle I will call ‘The Division of Semantic Labour’. For singular
constructions the principle can be stated in the following terms. It
must be possible to distinguish between, on the one hand, an expression
whose semantic role is exhausted by picking something out—which, so to
speak, drops away once it has discharged this function—and, on the other
hand, the rest of the sentence whose complementary role is to say
such-and-such about what has been picked out—independently, that is, of
how it was picked out. It is only when the Division of
Semantic Labour applies to a context that an expression occurring in it
may intelligibly give way to a bound variable.
This division is a prerequisite of objectual quantification for the
following reason. If the capacity of the rest of the sentence to say
such-and-such is nullified by the extraction of a referential
expression—if, so to speak, the significance of the rest of the sentence
evaporates when the referring expression is pulled out—then we cannot
use the rest of the sentence to say such-and-such about the value of a
variable upon an assignment of values to variables by replacing the
referring expression with a bound variable. In that case the idea behind
the rule of existential introduction will have been undone because we
cannot intelligibly say that what is true of a certain item picked out
by a given referring expression is true of something, i.e., true of it
regardless of whether that expression picks it out.
I will now argue that we cannot quantify into the positions occupied
by converse predicates because the contexts in which they occur fail to
exhibit the Division of Semantic Labour—assuming that mutually converse
predicates co-refer. To see this, first observe that it’s
a consequence of conceiving mutually converse predicates as
co-referential that we also have to recognize that the substitution of
co-referring predicates cannot be guaranteed to be truth preserving
(see Williamson 1985,
257; MacBride
2006, 468–471; 2011, 307–311). This is so even though
such predicates occur in contexts like,
(1) Alexander is on top of
Bucephalus
whose truth-value is functionally determined by the referents of its
parts and how they are assembled, contexts, moreover, whose name
positions are open to truth-preserving substitution by co-referring
terms. Since, for example, ‘Sikandar’ is the Persian name for Alexander,
we can infer from (1) that,
(2) Sikandar is on top of
Bucephalus.
Nonetheless, even if we conceive of ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ as co-referring, we cannot
substitute the former for the latter in (1) whilst
preserving truth, because the result is false,
(3) Alexander is underneath
Bucephalus.
Why does substituting ‘\(\xi\) is
underneath \(\zeta\)’ for ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ take us from truth to falsehood
even though, we are granting, ‘\(\xi\)
is underneath \(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ refer to the same relation? In
order for this inference to have been valid what (3) says about the referent of ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ would have had to be the same as
what (1) says about the referent of ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’. But they don’t and can’t say the
same about it. This is because what the rest of (1) says about the referent of ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ cannot survive the extraction of
‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’. The rest of (1), which is what results from extracting ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ from (1), is
the second-order predicate ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’. When the variable
‘\(\Phi\)’ in ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ is replaced by ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ the result is a sentence that says
Alexander is on top of Bucephalus. But when ‘\(\Phi\)’ is replaced by ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ the result is a sentence that says
Bucephalus is on top of Alexander. Hence, so far from being the same,
what (1) says about the referent of ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ is incompatible with what (3) says about the referent of ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ even though ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ refer to the same relation.
What emerges from this line of reflection is that the significance of
‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ isn’t
freestanding but varies depending upon which first-order predicate is
inserted in place of its variable. The failure of ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ to have a freestanding
significance is a consequence of the fact that the rules which we
understand when we grasp converse predicates rely upon different
conventions about how to interpret the significance of the arrangement
of corresponding signs (‘Alexander’, ‘Bucephalus’). What it means to
prefix an occurrence of one predicate, say ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’, with a token of ‘Alexander’
whilst appending a token of ‘Bucephalus’ is different from what it means
to prefix an occurrence of a mutually converse predicate, say ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ with a token of ‘Alexander’ whilst
appending a token of ‘Bucephalus’. Without a first-level predicate to
furnish the conventions required to interpret the significance of
prefixing ‘Alexander’ and appending ‘Bucephalus’, the second-order
predicate ‘Alexander \(\Phi\)
Bucephalus’ means nothing at all—its significance evaporates as soon as
a first-order predicate filling its argument place is extracted.
So the strategic situation is this—assuming that mutually converse
predicates co-refer. In order for objectual quantification into the
position occupied by ‘\(\xi\) is on top
of \(\zeta\)’ in (1) to be intelligible, i.e., for
(4) \((\exists\Phi)(\text{Alexander }\Phi\text{
Bucephalus})\)
to be meaningful, (1) must admit of a semantic
analysis into two discrete components, the first-level predicate ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ and the rest of the sentence, the
second-level predicate ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ which, were (4) meaningful, (4) would
affirm to be true of some relation in the domain. But (1) fails to satisfy the Division of Semantic Labour.
The second-level predicate left over once ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ is extracted lacks self-standing
significance. It isn’t true or false of the referent of ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ independently of how that relation
is picked out. Since ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ lacks freestanding
significance we cannot intelligibly affirm it of the value of a
second-order variable, i.e., affirm it of a relation independently of
how that relation is picked out by a first-level predicate. Hence we cannot quantify into (1), and (4) is meaningless.
The rule of existential introduction into the position of converse
predicates, understood as a generalization of existential introduction
into the positions of names, is thereby undone.
Another Meaning for ‘Alexander
\(\Phi\) Bucephalus’?
I have argued against the intelligibility of higher-order
quantification (objectually conceived) on the grounds that ‘Alexander
\(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ lacks meaning in
isolation, i.e., independently of the insertion of a first-level
predicate into its argument position—because otherwise there’s nothing
to settle how to interpret the significance of the prefixed and appended
terms. It may be thought that this is going too far. One can envisage an
objector granting that ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ lacks a
determinate significance—because what the significance will be
of prefixing ‘Alexander’ and appending ‘Bucephalus’ to a given
occurrence of a predicate depends upon the rules governing the predicate
that happens to occur between them. Nevertheless, this objector
continues, this doesn’t rule out ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ having a
determinable significance, i.e., its being a second-level
predicate which is true of the referent \(R\) of a first-level predicate (when
inserted into its argument position) just in case \(R\) relates Alexander to Bucephalus in
some manner or other but without settling any determinate
arrangement for them.
The immediate difficulty with this objection is that if ‘Alexander
\(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ is granted the
kind of determinable significance proposed, then other sentences get
assigned the wrong truth conditions. From (1)
follows,
(5) \(\lnot (\text{Alexander is underneath
Bucephalus})\).
Now according to the semantic hypothesis under consideration, (5) has a higher-order parsing according to which (5) says that it’s not the case that the relation
which is the referent of ‘\(\xi\) is
underneath \(\zeta\)’ satisfies
‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’, i.e.,
it’s not the case that that relation has the determinable property of
relating Alexander to Bucephalus in some manner or other. But this makes
(5) incompatible with (1)
which says that the same relation, i.e., the referent of ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’, does relate Alexander to
Bucephalus in some manner or other, specifically relating Alexander to
Bucephalus so that Alexander is on top of Bucephalus. But (5) isn’t incompatible with (1)
but entailed by it. So the semantic hypothesis that ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ has self-standing but
determinable significance results in faulty assignments of
truth-conditions.
Denying that ‘Alexander \(\Phi\)
Bucephalus’ has the self-standing significance required for quantifying
into the position of converse predicates is consistent with allowing
that ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’
has some weaker kind of significance. After all, when ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ is completed with a
given first-level predicate, the result is a statement with a certain
content, or, to speak more generally, a certain semantic value. So,
prima facie, we can assign it the derived syntactic category S/(S/NN)
(see Ajdukiewicz’s
categorial grammar 1967). But we cannot interpret
‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ as
having as a semantic value a function from the referents of binary
predicates to the semantic values of sentences. Since, we are supposing,
mutually converse predicates have the same referent, such a function
will map the semantic value of ‘\(\xi\)
is underneath \(\zeta\)’ to the same
semantic value (of the kind appropriate to a sentence), as it maps the
semantic value of ‘\(\xi\) is on top of
\(\zeta\)’. But the result of
substituting a co-referential but converse predicate, ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ for ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ in a sentence in which ‘Alexander
\(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ occurs, is not
guaranteed to preserve the semantic value of the sentence upon which the
substitution is performed. Nor does it follow even if it is conceded
that ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’
belongs to a derived syntactic category, that ‘Alexander \(\Phi\) Bucephalus’ has content in the sense
relevant to sustaining the intelligibility of second-order
quantification, i.e., has content in the sense of itself having the
capacity to be true or false of a relation independently of how that
relation is specified by a first-level predicate.
Relations and the Axiom Scheme of
Comprehension
I have taken us along a route from point (a) supposing that converse
predicates co-refer to point (b) the unintelligibility of second-order
quantification conceived as quantification over the referents of binary
predicates, the connecting link being that if converse predicates
co-refer then there’s a lack of extractable higher-order predicates
capable of being true or false of their referents independently of how
they are picked out. But are there other routes between these two
points?
To suppose that mutually converse predicates co-refer is to adopt a
(relatively) sparse view of our ontological commitments. The view is
(relatively) sparse insofar as ‘\(\xi\)
is on top of \(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ are conceived as equally good
predicates for referring to one and the same relation—so less abundant
than a view according to which our use of ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ commit us to distinct converse
relations. But the Axiom Scheme of Comprehension for second-order
logic,
Comp.
\(\exists R^n \forall x_1\ldots x_n
(R^n x_1\ldots x_n \leftrightarrow \Phi x_1\ldots x_n)\)
where \(R^n\) is an \(n\)-ary relation variable which does not
occur free in \(\Phi\), is typically
conceived as embodying an abundant conception of relations because,
taken together, the instances of Comp tell us that every formula determines
a relation. Doesn’t this already establish that embracing second-order
logic is incompatible—because Comp is abundant—with the sparseness of
supposing converse predicates to co-refer?
Now it is certainly true that Comp is straight out incompatible with
certain sparse conceptions of relations. Comp says that every
formula determines a relation even if the formula in question isn’t
satisfied by anything. So embracing Comp forces the
admission of uninstantiated relations where the corresponding formulae
are unsatisfied. This means that if we admit only instantiated
relations, what’s often called an ‘Aristotelian’ conception of
relations, or universals more generally, then we must reject Comp. To bring second-order logic in line
with this ‘Aristotelian’ stricture, Comp needs to be
restricted to recognize only relations that correspond to formulas that
are true of something:
Aristotelian Comp. \(\exists
x_1\ldots\exists x_n \Phi x_1\ldots x_n \rightarrow \exists R^n \forall
x_1\ldots\forall x_n (R^n x_1\ldots x_n\) \(\leftrightarrow\Phi x_1\ldots x_n)\).$
Further restrictions along these lines can be envisaged. Aristotelian Comp still requires a relation
for every polyadic predicate that’s satisfied. But this won’t be sparse
enough for us if, for example, we’re doubtful that there are relations
corresponding to disjunctive predicates even if they’re satisfied.
By contrast to an Aristotelian approach which requires relations to
be instantiated, the (relatively) sparse doctrine that mutually converse
predicates are vehicles for referring to one and the same relation does
not conflict with the existential requirements of Comp. This is because
(a), unlike the Aristotelian approach, the doctrine that mutually
converse predicates co-refer does not require that the relations to
which they refer are instantiated. Moreover, (b) Comp does not require
that each formula determines a unique relation but only that each
formula determines a relation—which is consistent with different
formulas having the same referent. So whilst Comp requires that
‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ both pick something out, this
requirement does not by itself force us towards a more abundant
conception of relations according to which ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ pick out distinct converses.
Williamson, in his treatment of higher-order logic, argues against
the restriction of Comp to natural properties and relations,
e.g., the universals which, according to Armstrong, are only to be
recognized a posteriori on the basis of total science. Rather, according
to Williamson, Comp is the “most obvious example of a
logical principle of higher-order logic that depends on unnatural
properties and relations” (Williamson 2013, 227). Williamson
advances his case on the grounds that the extensive literature on
naturalness has failed to supply a fruitful logic of natural properties
and relations. By contrast, Williamson maintains, Comp is an informative
logical principle which depends “on the absence of any naturalness
restriction” (Williamson 2013,
227) because it allows us quantify into the position of
formulae, however unnatural the conditions they define, e.g., not
smoking or being everything bad. But this line of reflection doesn’t
establish that the existence of converse relations can be settled by
appeal to Comp alone. Comp only tells us that
to every formula there corresponds a property or relation. Comp
taken by itself does not tell us that there is a 1-1 correspondence
between formulas on the one hand and properties and relations on the
other, however unnatural.
Nonetheless, it can be shown in short order that supposing mutually
converse predicates to co-refer conflicts with the application of
second-order generalization to atomic formulae—even without relying upon
the full strength of Comp which applies to formulae of arbitrary
complexity. From
(1) Alexander is on top of
Bucephalus
it follows that
(5) \(\lnot (\text{Alexander is underneath
Bucephalus})\).
Applying the operation of existential generalization to (1) and (5) it follows
that
(6) \((\exists\Phi)(\text{Alexander }\Phi\text{
Bucephalus})\)
and
(7) \((\exists\Phi)\lnot(\text{Alexander }\Phi\text{
Bucephalus})\).
There’s no formal contradiction here because the variables in (6) and (7) aren’t bound by
the same initial quantifier. But we cannot coherently suppose that the
open sentences which occur in (6) and (7) are both satisfied under the same assignment of
a relation to ‘\(\Phi\)’ because the
higher-order predicates ‘\(\text{Alexander
}\Phi\text{ Bucephalus}\)’ and ‘\(\lnot(\text{Alexander }\Phi\text{
Bucephalus})\)’ express contradictory properties of relations.
But if both (1) and (5)
are interpreted as saying something about the same relation, picked out
by ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ respectively, then their
existential entailments should be compatible with the open sentences
which occur in (6) and (7)
both being satisfied on the same assignment of a relation to ‘\(\Phi\)’.
It’s important to appreciate how the fact that the open sentences
which occur in (6) and (7)
cannot be true upon the same assignment of values to variables conflicts
with supposing both that converse predicates co-refer and that
second-order existential generalization is the analogue of first-order
generalization. Why? Because it’s mysterious how, if (1) and (5) incorporate
reference to only one relation, applying the operation of
second-order existential generalization to them can result in
statements, (6) and (7),
which taken together are ontologically committed to two
relations. The idea behind the operations of second-order existential
generalization—conceived as an analogue of the operation of first-order
quantification—is that whatever is true of the referent of a first-order
predicate is true of (second-order) something. But this inference loses
its justification if whatever is said to be true of something cannot be
true of the referent of the first-order predicate. Since the open
sentences which occur in (6) and (7) cannot be true upon the same assignment of
values to variables, the application of existential generalization to
(1) and (5), assuming
their first-level predicates co-refer, must take us from saying things
true of one and the same relation to saying things which can only be
true of at least one other relation. But then it is unclear how
existential generalization is guaranteed to preserve truth—because we
have undertaken a passage from talking about one relation to committing
ourselves to at least two. So we have an unstable package of
commitments: (a) that the predicates of (1) and
(5) refer to one and the same relation, (b)
that (6) and (7) taken
together are committed to the existence of two relations, and, (c) the
rule of second-order existential introduction is guaranteed to preserve
truth when understood as an analogue of first-order existential
generalization.
In light of preceding sections, we can appreciate how the failure of
sentences like (1) and (5) to exhibit the requisite Division of Semantic
Labour (assuming their first-order predicates co-refer) contributes to
this unstable package of views. What (1) affirms
of the referent of ‘\(\xi\) is on top
of \(\zeta\)’ isn’t the negation of
what (5) denies of ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ because the respective rules
governing the use of ‘\(\xi\) is on top
of \(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ reverse the semantic significance
of their prefixed and appended terms. But because quantifying into (1) and (5) extrudes these
rules about how to interpret the significance of their flanking terms—by
replacing the first-order predicates which carry these rules with bound
variables which don’t—we are left with the bare statements (6) and (7), whose constituent
open sentences cannot be true upon the same assignment of values to
variables.
Converse Relations
What have we learnt about the possible interpretation of second-order
quantifiers? Earlier I argued that if mutually converse predicates
co-refer, then we cannot intelligibly objectually quantify into the
positions they occupy for lack of the requisite higher-order predicates.
I have also argued that the operation of second-order existential
generalization cannot be intelligibly combined with such commonplace
truths about mutual converses as (1) and (5) whilst supposing that mutually converse
predicates co-refer. This was the first horn of the dilemma envisaged in
the introduction.
Prima facie it would not be unreasonable to conclude that
second-order languages are committed to converse relations after
all—because these problems can be made to go away by assuming that
mutually converse predicates pick out distinct converse relations. But
even if pairs of mutually converse relations are admitted, thus avoiding
the difficulties that arose from dispensing with them, higher-order
predicates of the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’
are still required for the intelligibility of quantification into the
positions of converse predicates, i.e., higher-order predicates capable
of being true or false of a relation belonging to the domain
independently of how that relation is specified. So the question still
remains even if it is granted that mutually converse predicates pick out
distinct converse relations: do we have an understanding of higher-order
predicates of the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’
which will enable us to interpret second-order quantification as
quantification over a domain of relations? I will argue that we don’t.
This is the second horn of the dilemma envisaged in the
introduction.
We have already considered the proposal that predicates of the form
‘\(a \Phi b\)’ have a purely
determinable significance—so that, for example, ‘\(\text{Alexander }\Phi\text{ Bucephalus}\)’
stands for a property of a relation, viz., the property of holding
between Alexander and Bucephalus in some manner or other, a property
which is indifferent to the order in which Alexander and Bucephalus are
related by whatever relation has the property. The problem identified
earlier with this proposal was that it gets the truth-conditions of (1) and (5) wrong if
mutually converse predicates co-refer. But the problem of conceiving
‘\(\text{Alexander }\Phi\text{
Bucephalus}\)’ as having this kind of determinable significance
is a problem for non-symmetric relations per se regardless of whether
they are accompanied by converses. Consider,
(1) Alexander is on top of
Bucephalus
and one of its consequences,
(8) \(\lnot(\text{Bucephalus is on top of
Alexander})\).
If ‘\(\text{Alexander }\Phi\text{
Bucephalus}\)’ has purely determinable significance, then ‘\(\text{Bucephalus }\Phi\text{ Alexander}\)’
does too, but they will mean the same. The latter will stand for a
property that a relation has if it relates Bucephalus and Alexander in
some manner or other. But a relation has the property of relating
Bucephalus and Alexander in some manner or other iff it has the property
of relating Alexander and Bucephalus in some manner or other—because the
property of relating some things in some manner or other is
order-indifferent. Then (8) will have a
higher-order parsing according to which (8) says
that it’s not the case that the non-symmetric relation that ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ picks out has the
order-indifferent property of relating Alexander and Bucephalus in some
manner or other. But (1) will have a
corresponding parsing according to which (1)
says that the relation ‘\(\xi\) is on
top of \(\zeta\)’ picks out does have
that property and (8) follows from (1). This problem doesn’t go away if the relation
that ‘\(\xi\) is on top of \(\zeta\)’ has a converse because it’s a
problem that arises solely by reflection upon that relation without
consideration of its converse—the relation that ‘\(\xi\) is underneath \(\zeta\)’ picks out doesn’t feature.
We can avoid this problem by interpreting ‘\(\text{Alexander }\Phi\text{ Bucephalus}\)’
as standing for a property sensitive to the order in which Alexander and
Bucephalus are related by whatever relation has this property.
But unless the order in question is explicable independently of how
‘\(\text{Alexander }\Phi\text{
Bucephalus}\)’ is completed by the insertion into its argument
position of a first-level predicate standing for a relation, we will
still have failed to secure the Division of Semantic Labour which I have
argued is required for second-order quantification objectually
conceived.
In order for a predicate of the form ‘\(a
\Phi b\)’ to have the required self-standing significance it must
stand for a higher-order property which relations have independently of
how they are picked out. This requirement is fulfilled if relations hold
between the things they relate in an order, where the notion of order in
play is absolute in the following sense: for any relation \(R\) which holds between any two things
\(a\) and \(b\), either \(R\) applies to \(a\) first and \(b\) second or b first and \(a\) second. If that is how relations apply
to the things they relate, then there is a higher-order property any
relation has if it applies to \(a\)
first and \(b\) second, another
higher-order property any relation has if it applies to \(b\) first and \(a\) second—properties which relations have
independently of how they are picked out by first-level predicates
because they are properties relations have solely in virtue of how they
apply rather than how they are depicted. If that is indeed the case,
then a higher-order predicate of the form ‘\(a
\Phi b\)’ meeting our requirement may be understood as standing
for the property that any relation has if it applies to \(a\) first, \(b\) second.
The Untoward Semantic
Consequences for Atomic Statements
What is important for present purposes is to appreciate the untoward
consequences of so interpreting higher-order predicates of the form
‘\(a \Phi b\)’. These include
consequences for our understanding of atomic statements which entail
second-order generalizations. Why so? Applying existential
generalization to a statement of the form ‘\(aRb\)’ whose first-order predicate picks
out a relation yields a statement of the quantified form ‘\(\exists\Phi\,a \Phi b\)’. If a higher-order
predicate of the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’
expresses the higher-order property that a relation has when it applies
to \(a\) first and \(b\) second, then what a statement of the
form ‘\(\exists\Phi\,a \Phi b\)’ says
is that some relation has that property. But in order for existential
generalization to have its usual justification this is a property the
entailing statement of the form ‘\(aRb\)’ must already have affirmed of the
relation picked out by its first-order predicate. In other words, it’s a
consequence of the proposed interpretation of higher-order predicates of
the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’ that a
statement of the form ‘\(aRb\)’ already
says that the referent of a first-order predicate has the property of
applying to \(a\) first and \(b\) second.
It follows that we can test the proposed interpretation of predicates
of the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’ by checking
whether atomic constructions which entail existential generalizations of
the form ‘\(\exists\Phi\,a \Phi b\)’
can be interpreted as saying that a relation has the property of
applying to \(a\) first and \(b\) second. I will argue that the proposed
interpretation fails this test for both symmetric and non-symmetric
atomic constructions.
Since second-order logic permits existential quantification into the
positions of symmetric predicates, it follows—assuming the proposed
interpretation of higher-order predicates—that atomic statements in
which symmetric predicates occur attribute to symmetric relations the
property of applying to the things they relate in an order. But it is
far from plausible that they do. Consider, for example,
(9) Darius differs from
Alexander
and
(10) Alexander differs from
Darius.
If predicates of the form ‘\(a \Phi
b\)’ mean what they’re proposed to mean, then (9) says that the relation picked out by ‘\(\xi\) differs from \(\zeta\)’ applies to Darius first and
Alexander second, whereas (10) says that it
applies to Alexander first and Darius second. But, as both linguists and
philosophers have reflected, prima facie statements like (9) and (10) don’t say
different things but are distinguished solely by the linguistic
arrangement of their terms. So prima facie
interpreting higher-order predicates of the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’ as standing for a property that
a relation has if it applies to \(a\)
first and \(b\) second imports ordinal
notions—first, second—into the content of atomic constructions
expressing symmetric relations, ordinal notions which are alien to our
ordinary understanding of statements like (9) and
(10).
Second-order logic also permits existential quantification into the
positions of non-symmetric predicates. Is it at all realistic to
interpret a statement in which a non-symmetric predicate occurs as
saying of a non-symmetric relation that it has the property of applying
to things it relates in an order? Certainly there is a significant class
of non-symmetric constructions, paradigmatically action sentences, in
which the arrangement of terms may be felt to depict an order imposed
upon the things they pick out. Consider, for example,
(11) Bucephalus kicks Oxyathres
which might be conceived as representing a kind of ‘energy flow’ from
the agent (Bucephalus) to the patient (Oxyathres) (see Langacker 1990, 221–222). In this kind
of case it is perhaps relatively natural to say that the relation which
‘\(\xi\) kicks \(\zeta\)’ stands for is represented as
applying to Bucephalus first and Oxyathres second. But there are what
linguists sometimes describe as ‘static’ cases which aren’t comfortably
described in such terms, for example,
(12) Alexander has lighter hair than
Darius,
and,
(13) Alexander is to the left of
Darius.
With regard to neither statement does there seem to be a sense in
which one participant is described as the ‘agent’ rather the ‘patient’;
neither is identified as the ‘energetic partner’. So there’s nothing
corresponding to ‘energy flow’ between Alexander and Darius here. Indeed
there seems nothing to distinguish Alexander and Darius in how they are
described except that they are the things that stand in the relation
identified by the predicate—as one thing lighter haired than another, as
one thing to the left of another.
Of course, the term ‘Alexander’ occurs first in (12) in the sense that it is the first term that we
encounter as readers of English when we scan the sentence from left to
right. But it’s only an accidental feature of English that we read left
to right and it’s a further accidental feature that we describe
something as being lighter haired than something else by writing its
name to the left of the verb. There are actual languages, such as Hebrew
or Arabic, as well as possible ones, which don’t have these accidental
features but different ones.
What is nonetheless essential for depicting states that result from
the application of non-symmetric relations, hence common to different
languages whose features may otherwise vary, is that for each \(n\)-ary predicate in a language there be
some rule for assigning a distinguished significance to each occurrence
of a term in a closed sentence that results from completing the
predicate with terms. In English we employ, for example, the rule that a
term which occurs to the left of the predicate ‘is lighter haired than’
in a statement like (12) has the significance
of standing for something that is lighter haired than something else
which it is the significance of the right-flanking term to stand for.
This rule suffices to interpret what (12) says
but it doesn’t invoke the ordinal notions of ‘first’ and ‘second’ to do
so. This shows that it isn’t essential for depicting a state that
results from the application of a non-symmetric relation that we
conceive of the relation as applying to the things it relates to
something first and something second—because all that is required to
interpret (12) is a rule that settles a
distinguished significance for the occurrence of each term and the rule
provided does so without invoking ‘first’ and ‘second’. What the rule
does is co-ordinate the arrangement of terms in a sentence with the way
that the objects corresponding to the terms must be arranged for the
sentence to be true. But neither the arrangement of terms, right and
left of the verb, nor the arrangement of corresponding objects,
lighter-haired to darker-haired, is fundamentally ordinal in
character.
Isn’t there a straightforward counter to be made to these claims?
Surely it is the raison d’être of relations to relate things
‘in an order’—a feature which, for example, distinguishes non-symmetric
relations from monadic properties? Constructions like (12) and (13) describe
Alexander and Darius as being related by certain non-symmetric
relations. Since non-symmetric relations have the distinguishing feature
of relating things ‘in an order’, it follows that (12) and (13) describe
Alexander and Darius as being related ‘in an order’. So (12) and (13) must
presuppose ordinal notions after all!
This counter trades upon the ambiguity of the phrase ‘in an order’,
which admits of a weaker and a stronger reading. Once the ambiguity is
taken into account it’s evident that the conclusion doesn’t follow from
its premises. The weaker reading of ‘in that order’ is simply that of
relating things so that they are arranged one way rather than
another—so, for example, that one thing is above another. The stronger
reading is that of relating things so that one thing occurs first, the
other second. The weaker reading does not imply the stronger reading.
From the fact that one thing is above another it doesn’t follow that one
thing is first, the other second. Note that the weaker reading is
consonant with one grammatical use of ‘order’ in ordinary English. When,
for example, we describe placing chess pieces in their proper order
before the start of a game, we don’t mean that one piece is placed
first, another second. Similarly, when a historian describes how
Alexander arranged his men in a certain order before the Battle of
Issus, this doesn’t mean describing which men Alexander put first,
second and so on, but rather how he placed the Thessalonian cavalry on
the left flank, the Macedonian cavalry on the right flank and so
forth. Now we can readily acknowledge that
it is the raison d’être of non-symmetric relations to relate
‘in an order’ in the weak sense without having to suppose that they do
so in the strong sense. We don’t thereby compromise our capacity to
distinguish non-symmetric relations from properties because properties
don’t relate the things that bear them in any sense. But if
non-symmetric relations only relate ‘in an order’ in a weak sense, then
it doesn’t follow from (12) and (13) describing Alexander and Darius as being
related by non-symmetric relations that they must also be describing
Alexander and Darius as being related first and second, i.e., ‘in an
order’ in the strong sense.
Acknowledging order in the weak sense does allow us to admit talk of
coming ‘first’ and ‘second’ but only as an eliminable façon de
parler. So, for example, we can say that Alexander comes first,
Darius second in the relation ‘\(\xi\)
is to the left of \(\zeta\)’ stands
for, meaning by that just that Alexander is to the left of Darius. And
we can say that Darius comes first, Alexander second in the relation
that ‘\(\xi\) is to the right of \(\zeta\)’ stands for, meaning by that just
that Darius is to the right of Alexander. But the notions of ‘first’ and
‘second’ are only defined here relative to the specification of a
relation—‘first’ and ‘second’ relative to the relation that ‘\(\xi\) is to the left of \(\zeta\)’ stands for, ‘first’ and ‘second’
relative to the relation that ‘\(\xi\)
is to the right of \(\zeta\)’, and so
on. Indeed we might have introduced a different façon de parler
whereby saying that Darius comes first, Alexander second in the relation
‘\(\xi\) is to the left of \(\zeta\)’ stands for, also just means that
Alexander is to the left of Darius. So it doesn’t follow from granting
order in this weak sense that one thing’s being to the left of another
makes one thing first or second in some sense that can be expressed
without specifying a given relation. So acknowledging order in the weak
sense doesn’t provide a basis for making sense of one thing coming
first, another second in a relation regardless of whether or how the
relation is specified, i.e., coming first or second in the absolute
sense. And it’s order in the strong sense, I’ve argued, which is
required to make sense of objectual quantification into predicate
position.
So far we have tested the proposed interpretation of higher-order
predicates of the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’
by checking whether atomic constructions which entail second-order
generalizations of the form ‘\(\exists\Phi\,a
\Phi b\)’ can be read as saying that a relation has the property
of applying to \(a\) first and \(b\) second (in the strong sense). I’ve
argued that the proposed interpretation fares poorly because neither
symmetric constructions ((9) and (10)) nor some non-symmetric atomic constructions ((12) and (13)) plausibly
admit of such a reading. Consider now a further consequence of the
proposed interpretation of predicates of the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’ that if there is a higher-order
property of applying to \(a\) first and
\(b\) second (in the strong sense),
then any relation can be compared to another with respect to this
property (see MacBride 2014,
5–7; 2015,
177–178). Why should the intelligibility of such comparisons
be a consequence of the proposed interpretation? Because if there is
such a higher-order property then for any binary relation and two things
it relates to one another, there’s a fact of the matter about which of
them it applies to first, which second. Hence, if any two relations
\(R\) and \(S\) relate any two things \(a\) and \(b\), then there is a fact of the matter
about whether (i) \(R\) and \(S\) both apply to \(a\) first, \(b\) second, or whether (ii) both apply to
\(a\) second and \(b\) first, or whether (iii) \(R\) applies to \(a\) first and \(b\) second and \(S\) applies to \(a\) second and \(b\) first, or whether (iv) \(R\) applies to \(b\) second and \(a\) first and \(S\) applies to \(a\) first and \(b\) second. But, as I have argued, it isn’t
part of what we ordinarily mean when we say that one thing has lighter
hair than another or that one thing is to the left of another that
anything comes first or second (in the absolute sense) in the relations
‘\(\xi\) has lighter hair than \(\zeta\)’ or ‘\(\xi\) is to the left of \(\zeta\)’ stand for. Since coming first or
second (in the absolute sense) isn’t part of what we ordinarily mean
when we use these predicates, it cannot be a further part of what we
ordinarily mean that there is a fact of the matter about whether the
relations they stand for apply to the same pair of things in the same or
a different order.
Accordingly the proposed interpretation of higher-order predicates of
the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’ fails to mesh
with what we mean by what we say using lower-order predicates that serve
as arguments to higher-order predicates of this form. If that were what
predicates of the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’
meant, then their application would impose an order (in the strong
sense) on the relata of relations. But we have no idea what the
relevance of such an order could be to our ordinary classificatory
practices—because our facility with such constructions as (9) and (10) in which ‘\(\xi\) differs from \(\zeta\)’ occurs, or (12) and (13) in which
‘\(\xi\) has lighter hair than \(\zeta\)’ and ‘\(\xi\) is to the left of \(\zeta\)’ occur, don’t give a semblance of
our relying upon it at all.
This point has significance for the justification of second-order
logic itself. Introducing second-order quantifiers brings about a sea
change in the expressive capacities of language, so we cannot expect to
explain second-order quantifiers before introducing them. So how can we
hope to justify the introduction of second-order quantifiers? Williamson
maintains that we can account for second-order quantifiers
retrospectively by seeking to explain how our understanding of those
quantifiers is “rooted in our understanding” of constant predicative
expressions of the same category as the quantified variables (2013,
258). But since we don’t understand the predicative
expressions in question as standing for relations which apply to the
things they relate in an order (in the strong sense), our understanding
of second-order quantifiers as ranging over a domain of relations which
apply to the things they relate in an order (in the strong sense) can
hardly be rooted in our understanding of constant predicative
expressions. So we cannot justify the introduction of second-order
quantifiers even “retrospectively” if they are interpreted this way.
Might there be an alternative interpretation of higher-order
predicates of the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’
over which we have more control and which will facilitate an
interpretation of second-order quantifiers as ranging over a domain of
relations? The ordinary language construction
‘—bears---to___’, as it figures in
(14) Alexander bears a great
resemblance to Philip,
might appear to be a promising candidate for a construction in which
our understanding of a predicate of the form ‘\(a \Phi b\)’ might be rooted. Roughly
speaking, the idea is that a relation \(R\) satisfies the predicate ‘\(a \Phi b\)’ just in case \(a\) bears \(R\) to \(b\), whereas \(R\) satisfies ‘\(b \Phi a\)’ just in case \(b\) bears \(R\) to \(a\). Nevertheless, the natural language
construction ‘—bears---to___’ is unsuited to this
role.
One obstacle is that ‘\(a \Phi b\)’
and ‘\(a\) bears---to \(b\)’ have different logical forms—hence it
is problematic to suppose that our understanding of the one is rooted in
the other. The key difference is that whilst ‘\(a \Phi b\)’ takes a first-level predicate
as its argument, ‘\(a\)
bears---to \(b\)’ takes noun
phrases rather than predicates in its argument position, for example,
the indefinite description ‘a great resemblance’ which occurs in (14). Because they take noun phrases, rather than
predicates, constructions like (14) are more
naturally formalised in first-order terms as expressing a ternary
relation between three first-order entities, one of them a relation.
Another difference is that whereas ‘\(a\) bears---to \(b\)’ has a converse, viz., the passive form
‘--- is borne by \(a\) to \(b\)’, ‘\(a \Phi
b\)’ does not. Because ‘\(a \Phi
b\)’ and ‘\(a\)
bears---to \(b\)’ are so
logically different, it doesn’t follow from the fact that we understand
constructions of the form ‘\(a\)
bears---to \(b\)’ that we also
understand predicates of the form ‘\(a \Phi
b\)’. Nor does it follow that if we don’t understand ‘\(a \Phi b\)’, that we don’t understand
‘\(a\) bears---to \(b\)’ either.
A further consideration against this proposal is that for a wide
range of cases, constructions of the form ‘\(a\) bears---to \(b\)’ admit of a deflationary reading in
first-order terms (see
MacBride 2015,
188). According to this reading, what it means for \(a\) to bear a relation \(R\) to \(b\) is simply that \(aRb\). So ‘\(a\) bears---to \(b\)’ doesn’t furnish a means of
understanding how a relation applies independently of the lower order
construction to which it reduces when its argument position is
completed. In support of this reading, witness the equivalence of (14) and
(15) Alexander greatly resembles
Philip.
It’s not just that (14) entails (15), but the fact that (14) appears to be just a longwinded way of
saying what (15) says.
Now it may be acknowledged that there are a limited number of cases
in natural language resistant to this deflationary reading, cases where
the “bears” construction appears to take quantifier phrases in its
argument position, notably
(16) The text bears some relation to
the facts
and
(17) The text bears no relation to
the facts.
It is arguable that grammatical appearances are misleading here, that
in fact there is no genuine quantification over relations going on and
really (16) and (17) are more transparently rendered as saying
that some of the text is true and none of it is (respectively).
Nonetheless, even if there is quantification over relations in play in
(16) and (17),
these statements don’t correspond in any straightforward sense with
second-order quantificational claims. This is because anything of the
form
(18) \((\exists \Phi) (a \Phi b)\)
is a higher-order logical truth, and anything of the form
(19) \(\lnot(\exists\Phi) (a \Phi b)\)
is a higher-order logical falsehood, whereas (16) and (17) are
contingent claims. Accordingly, if (16) and (17) involve
genuine quantification, it is more natural to read the constituent
quantifiers as first-order. For these reasons, the natural language
construction of the form ‘\(a\)
bears---to \(b\)’ appears
unsuited as a basis for understanding what the genuinely higher-order
predicate ‘\(a \Phi b\)’ really
means.
Conclusion
I have argued that whether mutually converse predicates co-refer or
they don’t, difficulties arise for the interpretation of higher-order
quantifiers as ranging over a domain of relations. If, on the one hand,
mutually converse predicates co-refer, then the attempt to quantify into
the positions they occupy conflicts with the Division of Semantic
Labour. If, on the other hand, they pick out distinct relations, then we
lack a grasp of the higher-order predicates required to characterize
relations in a higher-order setting, a grasp that is appropriately
rooted in our understanding of atomic statements. We may have other
theoretical reasons to hold the metaphysical doctrine that relations
apply in an order (in the strong sense), but I have argued that that
doctrine isn’t credible as a presupposition of higher-order logic.
These arguments don’t tell us that second-order quantification per se
is unintelligible because it remains open that second-order quantifiers
may be interpreted along other lines, i.e., other than ranging over a
domain in mimicry of the manner in which first-order quantifiers are
typically understood to do so. Nevertheless, we now have novel and
independent reasons to favour alternative interpretations that don’t
treat second-order existential introduction as a straightforward
generalization of first-order existential introduction—whether in terms
of quantification over the extensions of predicates, rather than
properties and relations conceived as the referents of predicates, or in
terms of quantifiers that aren’t conceived as having ranges at all. And we now have strong reasons to
doubt that second-order logic has a distinguished claim to be the logic
of relations because of the difficulties that attend quantifying into
the positions of converse predicates.
Acknowledgements
I am grateful to Chris Daly, Kit Fine, Jane Heal, Frederique
Janssen-Lauret, Nick Jones, Joop Leo, Francesco Orilia, Bryan Pickel,
Jan Plate, Marcus Rossberg, Mark Sainsbury, Stewart Shapiro, Thomas
Uebel and Alan Weir for their comments on previous drafts of this paper.
I would also like to thank audiences in Birmingham, Florence, King’s
College London, Lugano, Manchester, Oxford and St. Andrews. The writing
of this paper was supported by an award from the Leverhulme Trust.