A Debate over Definitions – Between Semantics and Essence (Column 251)

With God’s help

In columns 244, 247  and 248 I discussed ethical and philosophical debates, and their significance for us. In this column I intend to discuss debates over definitions. Seemingly this is a different kind of debate, if it is a debate at all, but as we shall see upon closer inspection the difference may not be so great.

Examples

I have already written several times about the nature of debates such as "Who is a Jew?", "What is morality?", what "gender" is, what "marriage" is, what a "disease" (or a "deviation") is, what "democracy" is, and the like. All of these are debates about the definition of some concept. Seemingly, unlike the debates I discussed in those columns, where at least it is possible that there is a right and a wrong answer (and the positions are mutually exclusive), here we would all have to agree that this is merely a semantic dispute.[1] When two people argue about a given concept, they are really proposing different definitions for it. But using different definitions is not a dispute; it is merely using different languages. Many people have the sense that there is really no point in arguing about definitions; what matters is only to synchronize the concepts and their definitions before beginning to discuss them, so as to streamline and focus the discussion. On the other hand, one cannot deny that many of these debates are conducted in a highly emotional way (for example, who is a "Jew," what "democracy" is, or what a "disease" is).

One might perhaps explain that the debate over a definition is really a debate over a fact. We are discussing how the community to which we belong uses this particular term. But then again there is no substantive debate here, only a semantic one. Suppose our community uses the term "Jew" to mean someone who serves in the army; why should that bother anyone? And if another community uses the term "disease" to describe any deviation from the norm of the majority (and therefore includes homosexuality), why should that bother anyone? In principle, in such a debate one can open a dictionary and settle it. It certainly ought not to be accompanied by any value-laden charge.

Even if these concepts are loaded with value judgments (as in the examples above), and therefore the dispute has evaluative meanings and consequences (that you are not democratic, or not Jewish, or deviant), it is still clear that the dispute does not revolve around the definitions but around the value-laden charge attached to them. Therefore, even in such a case it would be better to argue about what is right or wrong to do, not about what a given term includes in the dictionary.

An Example: Who Is a Jew?

When people argue about "who is a Jew," for example, they offer different definitions of the concept. The religious claim that a Jew is someone born to a Jewish mother or someone who converted according to Jewish law (taking as the point of origin Sarah our matriarch—or, more precisely, the participants in the revelation at Sinai). Others, by contrast, claim that "Jew" is an open concept, consisting of readers of Amos Oz or of the Hebrew Bible in the original, citizens of the State of Israel (who pay taxes and serve in the army) who also feel an identification with Jewish history (I do not really understand exactly what that means).[2] Seemingly, the dispute revolves around the meaning of a concept. So why does it matter? What is the significance of the debate?

The feeling is that in this debate too, although it is doubtful whether there is even a real dispute here, and even if there is, it concerns the meaning of a term in a language, each side adheres to its position quite emotionally, and is also sure that its definition is the "correct" one (contrary to what is usually thought, those who propose the open definition make such a claim too). But what does a "correct definition" mean? A definition is a matter of language. To each his own language. So what on earth is this debate about? Is everyone stupid? Why should we not simply agree that you will call your thing (someone who speaks Hebrew, reads Amos Oz, wears biblical sandals with a forelock, and identifies with Jewish history) "Jew," while I will call my thing (someone born to a Jewish mother or who underwent a conversion according to Jewish law)[3] "Israeli," and we will part as friends? After all, this is a semantic dispute, that is, a dispute over the right to use a word, and so it can easily be resolved on the semantic level (if we put aside for a moment our sentiments, which ruin every good thing).

Again, I am not ignoring the value-laden charge that accompanies these debates, but I am claiming that the debate is being conducted on the wrong plane. If you want to say that it is proper to observe Torah and commandments, or that it is proper to behave fraternally only toward someone born to a Jewish mother or who converted according to Jewish law, or alternatively toward someone who reads Amos Oz, then please go ahead and argue that. Why divert the discussion to a semantic plane that is technical and unimportant?

So too, of course, with the dispute over what "democracy," "gender," "marriage," "disease," "morality," and the like are. Seemingly, there too the dispute is only semantic, and there is no point in conducting it (beyond sentiments). Admittedly, on its face a dispute about "morality" appears to have a different character from all the others. The term "morality" has no independent status, and the value-laden charge attached to it is essential to it. When I argue over what is included in the concept of morality, I am thereby also saying that this is how one ought to act. So here this is not a purely semantic dispute. I therefore assume that, regarding disputes about morality, many will agree that the description I presented above seems problematic, for we all feel that there is a real dispute here (about what is proper or improper to do. Most of us will not regard with indifference someone who thinks murder is permitted, certainly not if he acts on that view). Therefore, for the sake of clarity and simplicity, let us remove it and similar cases for now from our discussion.

But a dispute over who is a "Jew" or what is "democratic" definitely does not fall into that category. These are manifestly semantic disputes. Instead of quarreling over whether a Jew is someone who reads Amos Oz or someone who observes Jewish law (or is obligated by it), it would be better to argue about whether it is proper to read Amos Oz or to observe Jewish law. This is a more direct dispute, dealing with the important point rather than with a secondary technical lexicographic question. What I am proposing is not merely a technical change in wording. The proofs brought in such debates are for the most part irrelevant. If you prove to me that historically the concept "Jew" did not really mean someone who reads Amos Oz, will that change anything? If the goal of the debate is evaluative, then absolutely not. True, until now Jews did not read Amos Oz, so I am a different kind of Jew. It is therefore more sensible to agree on a semantic parting of ways: I am Israeli and not Jewish, and you are Jewish and not Israeli, and that is that. Why argue over the question whether I am a Jew or not?

Alternatively, this debate also concerns legal applications (to whom to grant immigrant rights, an absorption package, or recognition as a citizen under the Law of Return). But there too it is better to change the dictionary and argue the claims on their merits. One can argue that immigrant rights should be granted even to someone who is not a Jew, at least if he identifies with our history and reads Amos Oz. By the same token, one can call same-sex marriages marriages and yet not grant them the associated rights, or vice versa. The dispute over the word "marriage" seems rather silly, and there is no reason one side or the other should not yield.

Postmodernism

Those who drew the obvious conclusion are our postmodern cousins (so do not say that I never speak in their praise). In the postmodern age it is customary to think that discourse proceeds among different narratives (=types of discourse) that at best converse with one another (though in essence they cannot really do so).[4] But in fact each side lives in its own bubble. For them, a dispute—any dispute—is nothing but a misunderstanding stemming from the use of different languages (narratives). But they claim this is not an accidental misunderstanding that can be corrected. Every person is imprisoned in his own narrative, and therefore we are all condemned to live within different narratives. All disputes are really about definitions. True, they assume (or conclude) that there is no single objective truth over which we are arguing at all; rather there are many "truths" (each narrative with its own truth). Seemingly, that is the obvious conclusion from what I have described. At the end of the day, it appears that each side in a dispute is nothing but a line of reasoning that proceeds from different definitions and a different starting point.

And yet, these disputes are conducted with full force, and all the parties to them seem somehow convinced that they are real disputes.

Parallels Meet

If you think about it a bit, you will see that one can reach the very same conclusion from a completely opposite starting point (a modernist one), which in my view sheds a more optimistic light on these disputes. In the modernist picture, one assumes that there is a single objective truth. From that perspective, when we see a dispute, the obvious conclusion is that it reflects different languages or definitions, or different ways of viewing the same truth (something of this sort I wrote in columns 233 and 248, among others). The modernist too arrives at the conclusion that disputes usually revolve around definitions (or else are simply mistakes), just as in the postmodern picture. The difference is that there one arrives at the same conclusion from the opposite starting point: because there is no objective truth, all truths are necessarily subjective (narrative-based), and therefore all are really a matter of definition or language.

One can see here an expression of a fascinating and widespread phenomenon in the world of ideas. Extreme disagreement often brings the disputants together and leads them to agreement from the other side of the philosophical map.[5] In many cases (perhaps all), the philosophical axis is a kind of circle, and the farther one side moves away from the other, the closer it comes to it from the opposite side. The maximal distance between them is created precisely when they arrive at one another from the other side.

But there are differences that can help us distinguish between these two apparently similar phenomena. Here I will note two of them:

• The postmodern atmosphere, unlike the modernist one, provides fertile ground and a breeding bed for the formation of vague intermediate phenomena located in the gray zone (such as queerness, or various kinds of Jewishness, and the like). The key sentence is: "Who are you to tell me what __ is?!" (Jew, democracy, male and female, and the like. Fill in the blank.) When you hear arguments of this kind, that is an indication that this is not someone who upholds the existence of objective truth but the postmodern vacuum.
• Beyond that, in the postmodern picture there is not supposed to be any striving to clarify the disagreement and arrive at some truth. There, each person is supposed to entrench himself in his own position, and the purpose of the discussion (to the extent that it exists) is to show that it is impossible to reach anything agreed upon and that there is no objective truth. The goal is a dismantling analysis of the positions (deconstruction) in order to leave each one at its own side (within its own narrative). By contrast, in a modernist picture a debate takes place whose aim is to clarify the various positions, expose the use of different definitions, and thereby arrive at the objective truth that lies beyond them (about which we are all supposed to agree, even if sometimes in different modes of description).

But what do we do if, after clarifying the definitions, we arrive at the conclusion that we really do have a dispute over a definition (as in all the examples above)? In the postmodern world, the discussion is over: the lesson has been learned. We have shown that there is no dispute and no truth, and that each person is imprisoned within his conceptual framework. But in the sane world—the one that understands that there is truth—what are we to do when we find ourselves in a dispute that revolves around a definition? Is there any point in conducting it? What is its significance at all? Is it a real dispute? How can it be conducted? (Perhaps simply by opening a dictionary?) Is there any point at all in arguing about definitions, or are our postmodern cousins right in claiming that there is not?[6]

What Is a Square?

Consider, for example, two people who see before them this shape: ∕. Now an argument begins: Reuven claims that it is a square and Shimon claims that it is square. Is there a real dispute here? Clearly, it is the same thing in different languages. Now consider a situation in which Reuven claims that it is a square and Shimon claims that it is a circle. Let us assume for the sake of discussion that neither has a vision problem, and yet they are battling one another at full force over this question; neither yields and neither is persuaded. Is there a dispute here? Seemingly, they are simply using different languages. Reuven calls such a shape a square and Shimon calls it a circle. This is just the use of a different word to describe the same thing, except that unlike the previous case, here both languages are written in Hebrew.

The Philosophers’ Chestnut

This brings us naturally to the problem sometimes called "the philosophers’ chestnut" (see columns 99 and 153). Reuven looks at the hat of a man passing before him and says the man is wearing a green hat. Shimon looks at the same man wearing the same hat and says he is wearing a pink hat. Is there a dispute here? Seemingly, this is similar to the previous example, namely two different languages describing the same thing.

But it is not so simple. Up to this point we assumed that Reuven sees inwardly, in his consciousness, a green hat, and Shimon sees in his consciousness a hat that Reuven would call green, except that he (=Shimon) has from time immemorial called that color pink. But for two people who grew up in the same environment and spoke with the same people, this is an implausible interpretation. After all, whenever they saw a hat of that color, they should have noticed that they were using different languages and synchronized their language. In fact, already as children, when they learned the language, they should have arrived at the same term for that color.

It is therefore more plausible that Shimon really sees a pink hat here and not a green one. Does that now make it a dispute? On the face of it, no (assuming both see well). Shimon simply misprocesses colors; that is, when an image of green wavelength reaches him, his brain translates it into the color pink. Note that now this is not a dispute. They really do see different things in their consciousness. Reuven too would agree (if he could see it) that the image in Shimon’s consciousness is pink, and vice versa. But this explanation too is implausible, for the same reason. In the past, when they encountered such a color, they should already have realized that they were using erroneous terminology and synchronized it (Shimon should have understood that he misprocesses colors).[7] Alternatively, how did Shimon ever learn that this color is called "pink"? After all, the pink exists only within his consciousness. Outside there is a green color, and whenever he encountered such a color people called it "green."

In sum, it is implausible that two people from the same society use a different term to describe the same phenomenon in the external world. But all this applies to the external world, with respect to which there is supposed to be synchronization among people: both with respect to the phenomenon itself and with respect to the terminology we use for it. But there is a third layer as well, which does not belong to the external world, and there a difference is indeed possible, and that is the above-mentioned "chestnut" problem.

The case in question is where Reuven and Shimon both say that the man who passed before them is wearing a green hat. Seemingly, here they both see the same image and agree about everything, and everything is fine. But not necessarily. It may be that Shimon sees in his consciousness a hat in a color that Reuven would define as pink, except that Shimon has always been accustomed to call this color green (because all the people around him always called it green, as we saw above). If so, despite the synchronization in description, there are still different languages here and also different images in consciousness (and these two differences offset one another. If one is going to err, it is always best to make an even number of mistakes). We have no way at all to test whether the image in the consciousness of two people who give us the same verbal description is the same image. It is always possible that their languages are different and their consciousnesses are different, and the two cancel each other out.

But notice that in some sense there is still no dispute here. I have written here more than once that in the world itself there are no colors and no sounds (see, for example, column 142). When a tree falls in the forest, it of course makes no sound; it only creates a pressure wave in the air. When such a pressure wave strikes the eardrum in our ear, it is translated in the consciousness of the ear’s owner into a sound. The same applies to an optical (visual) wave. In the world there is an electromagnetic wave, and when it strikes the retina in our eye, it is translated in our consciousness into a color. In fact, Reuven and Shimon, who say that the man passing before them is wearing a green hat, are indeed describing the same reality. It is an object with a certain crystal structure (what determines the color is the crystal structure), and they both agree about that. Such a structure produces a wave of a certain wavelength, and it strikes the eyes of Reuven and Shimon. It is now translated into an image in their consciousness: in Reuven there arises a hat in a color that in his language is called "green." In Shimon there arises a hat that in Reuven’s language (!) would be called "pink," but Shimon has become accustomed to call it "green." Thus the following three-stage structure is created: the reality is one and agreed upon. The image in consciousness that it produces in Reuven and Shimon is different. But Reuven’s and Shimon’s language is also different, and this offsets the cognitive difference, so the verbal description of that image in the two languages comes out identical.

It is important to understand that this identity is not accidental, because it is a result of the use of the same language within the same society (as I described above). Their discourse with one another is what synchronizes the descriptions with each other. As noted, we have no way whatsoever to know whether this really is the correct picture underlying the identical descriptions of Reuven and Shimon, or whether they really do see the same thing. These are two different explanations, both of which explain the facts well: that it is the same wavelength and that both parties use the same language. The hesitation is between two possibilities regarding what lies within their consciousness (which mediates between reality and its description in language), because our subjective consciousness is not accessible to measurement and therefore not testable. This dispute probably cannot be decided in any way.[8]

Implications for the Dispute about the Square

Let us now return to the dispute about the square described above. In light of what we have seen here, it appears that we have no way of knowing whether this is a real or an illusory dispute. If these are people who do not belong to the same discourse community (different and disconnected communities that speak Hebrew)—fine. But if they belong to the same community of Hebrew speakers, then on its face there may be two interpretations of such a dispute: 1. The difference is in language: they both see the same shape but describe it in different words. 2. The difference is in the translation of reality into consciousness: they see different shapes in their consciousness (one sees a square and the other a circle), even though in the objective world about which they are speaking the same reality prevails (that is, they agree at the primary level, the first of the three described above).

But as we have seen, both of these interpretive possibilities are implausible. After all, these are two people who live in the same society (the same discourse community). From the time they were born, they have encountered various shapes and spoken about them with their friends fluently and reciprocally. So how exactly did Shimon learn to say the word "circle" when he sees this shape, which everyone calls "square"? Every time in the past that he saw this shape (even if inwardly an image of a circle appeared in his consciousness), everyone around him called it "square." So why does he call it "circle"? That is not plausible.[9]

So how, nevertheless, do semantic disputes arise? Only when the concept or term is sufficiently vague, and the experience of using it is not enough to determine it sharply and clearly. But that is only a technical problem; vague concepts are hard to define. This dispute is still a purely lexical one. A more interesting dispute over the definition of concepts can appear when there arises a claim that the concept has changed, and today it should be defined differently from how it was defined in the past. That is the situation with "Jew," "marriage," "disease," and the like.

Two Interpretations of Kant’s Distinction Between Phenomena and Noumena

I have already discussed elsewhere two interpretations of Kant’s distinction between the thing in itself (the noumenon) and the thing as it is perceived by us (the phenomenon). Many take this as a limitation on our ability to perceive the world, because we are imprisoned within our cognitive tools. I have pointed out that, in my view, this is a mistake. There is no limitation here at all. Perception, by definition, involves translating the perceived reality into the language of the perceiving consciousness. An electromagnetic field is perceived by us as color. This is not a limitation but a translation. Someone else will translate it differently, but he is speaking about the same thing in a different language. It is a limitation on discourse, but not on perception itself. When I perceive something, I formulate it in the terms of my consciousness, because that is what it means to perceive. My description is no less correct because of that. It is a description, and every description requires a language in which it is formulated.

But such a change in description is not really a dispute. When we offer two different descriptions of the same reality, factual or evaluative, we must understand that this is not a dispute but a description in two languages. And indeed, in quite a few cases one can see that our postmodern cousins are right (as the saying goes: even a stopped clock… ) that in essence this is about two languages and not a real dispute.[10] The question is what we should say in a place where our two positions have different implications. Our cousins will say that there is still no right and wrong here, since each person is describing the thoughts of his heart (his narrative). But to my mind such a situation is an indication that this is a genuine dispute. Description in different languages is not supposed to lead to different conclusions.

A Rational Approach to Semantic Disputes

A semantic dispute of this sort, in which neither side yields and both feel that truth and falsehood are at stake, apparently presupposes the existence of some concept or idea about which the dispute revolves.[11] Thus, for example, when people argue about the concept "Jew," both sides apparently agree that there is such a concept, except that each offers a different definition or interpretation of it. Otherwise the dispute is pointless (because it is a purely semantic-lexical dispute). As noted, they need not necessarily disagree about its meaning in the past, for a claim may also be raised that the meaning of the concept has changed. Thus, for example, one can argue that the authentic and correct continuation today of Abraham our patriarch, Moses our teacher, Rabbi Akiva, and Maimonides is reading Amos Oz and speaking Hebrew. This is of course a claim one can readily dispute, but it is definitely making a claim and not merely proposing a definition on the semantic plane.

"Authentic" or "correct" in this context means fitting the content of the idea in question. If concepts were only linguistic conventions, disputing them would be pointless. Parties who argue passionately and do not yield apparently assume that these concepts or ideas exist in some Platonic sense—that is, that they have an essence—and therefore there is value in disputing their meaning. It is important to understand that in such a situation one cannot part semantically, because this is a dispute about a "fact" (albeit an ethical or evaluative fact, not a physical one). Exactly like a dispute over the properties of an electric field (whether its intensity declines according to one power or another of distance), where it is clear that one cannot part semantically and tell Reuven that he will call his gizmo an "electric field," while I, Shimon, will call my gizmo a "pomponic field." That will solve nothing, because there is a right and a wrong here. Either the field in question behaves this way or it behaves that way. The question is not lexical but factual.

It turns out that in disputes as well over concepts like "disease," "marriage," "Jew," and the like, the parties generally assume that this is a dispute about a fact (some idea), and therefore they cannot part semantically, because there is a right and a wrong here. It is a real dispute.[12] Ironically, it turns out that precisely the existence of a dispute over a given concept indicates that it has an essence and is not merely a convention.[13]

In column 108 I pointed out that a dispute over a definition and over changing a definition also indicates that the definition is not arbitrary but describes some reality. This is in contrast to definition in the mathematical sense, where it is commonly thought to be an arbitrary matter undertaken only for convenience (there is no correct or incorrect mathematical definition).[14] Such a definition cannot be changed or disputed. At most, we will conclude that we are speaking about two different concepts.

As I explained above, seemingly there is still room for the claim that the meaning of a concept as it is perceived in my consciousness is a translation of its objective meaning (as we saw above regarding color, shape, or sound), and therefore if I have a dispute about it with someone, that does not mean there is a dispute here about reality. But it is still certainly true that this dispute has significance, since the applications of that concept usually depend on how I perceive it, not necessarily on the concept itself. As I noted there, if this dispute does indeed have implications, it is probably not a matter of two descriptive languages for the same thing but a real dispute.

Reduction to Absurdity

In such debates, conservatives tend to raise reduction-to-absurdity arguments (reductio ad absurdum). If indeed no one has a monopoly on the concept (or institution) of "marriage," or of "disease," then one can also marry a telephone pole. Why should society not recognize someone who wants to marry a telephone pole? Who are you to tell him what it means to be married? Alternatively, within the framework of the bizarre disputes about the various genders, I read a report about a sixty-year-old German citizen who demanded to be recognized as forty years old (otherwise this is ageism. Who are you to determine for him what a forty-year-old is? A forty-year-old is someone who feels he is forty. Now insert here the concept ‘Jew’). By the same token, one may ask why the law forbids an intimate relationship between a brother and his sister (both adults). Whom does that harm (perhaps anyone besides themselves)?[15] The question is where the boundary lies.

These arguments are not bad, by the way, because sometimes they can demonstrate why interpretive freedom has a limit. They show that concepts have an essence and are not merely conventions. This demonstrates that one cannot knead concepts, even if they are vague, like clay in the hands of the potter merely in order to achieve ends we desire. Such arguments can perhaps contend with nihilistic approaches unwilling to accept that concepts have content and that see them as clay in the hands of the potter (postmodern approaches). Of course, if we are dealing with consistent postmodernists, they will simply concede all these claims and that will be the end of it. Anyone who does not concede them will have to admit that he is not a complete nihilist.

But if someone makes a modernist claim, which as we saw can be very similar, according to which same-sex couples too can form a married union, or that someone who underwent Reform conversion is also a Jew, here the example of the telephone pole or of being forty years old will not help. In such a dispute both sides recognize that the concept has some content, and the dispute is only over what that content is and where its boundary lies.

At bottom, in many cases there is reason and value in debating concepts. At the very least, there is a right and a wrong here, and the dispute cannot be resolved simply by parting semantically and leaving it at that. True, in cases where the subject of discussion is the value-laden charge attached to the concept, and we have no way to settle the lexical-factual dispute, there is no necessity to cling to the truth (the lexical-factual one). For the sake of convenience and clarity, one can relinquish the lexical sentiment (the desire to use the concept ‘Jew’), and then part semantically (you will call yours ‘Jew’ and I will call mine ‘Israeli’), and at most continue to argue whether it is better to be a Jew or an Israeli, or whether immigrant rights should be granted to a Jew or to an Israeli, and the like.

[1] Someone once made a correct remark to me about this term. When I say here "semantic dispute," I mean that it is a matter of definition and has no significant content. But in the distinction between semantics (=meaning) and syntax (=structure, form), semantics specifically represents the meaningful dimension and syntax the empty form. Thus, for example, syntax is the grammatical or logical structure of a sentence, and semantics is its content. Therefore, precisely a discussion of semantics should be more meaningful.

But there is not necessarily any contradiction here. Semantics indeed deals with the meaning of the concept or sentence, but what I am claiming here is that the meaning of a concept is a matter of definition, and therefore there is little value in arguing about it. Even if meaning is the important part of a sentence, arguing about it is meaningless.

[2] I am of course ignoring here the circularity in this definition, which uses the concept "Jew" in the definition of that same concept.

[3] This is the definition according to Jewish law. The cultural definition is someone loyal to Jewish law. Yes indeed, I have not gotten confused. The definition according to Jewish law is ethnic, and the cultural one is according to Jewish law. See about this in my article Suddenly a Man Arises and in column 130.

[4] One must understand that "postmodern discourse" is really an oxymoron (or just making sounds with the mouth that produce some random reactions in the listener).

[5] Thus absolute individualism and absolute collectivism actually become very similar in their opposition to nationalism and to intermediate collectivities. And so in many other examples. The dictatorship of the proletariat opposed the dictatorship of the ruling classes (such as a king, or nobles, or capitalists), yet itself created a dictatorship that trampled all those who established it. Both of these emptied democracy of substance to the same degree.

[6] It is worth noting that although it seems that a postmodern dispute or discussion usually revolves around definitions, postmodernism actually claims that there is no point in arguing about them. The purpose of postmodern discussion and analysis is only to expose that this is a dispute about definitions and to stop there.

[7] Note that this is not exactly color blindness. Color blindness is an inability to distinguish between different colors. This is a different phenomenon of color distortion (that is, seeing a color other than what other people see). Color blindness is a defect, since there is something that person cannot do while others can. This phenomenon is no defect at all. These are simply different languages.

[8] See on this here and here and especially in column 99.

[9] At most, one could say that he is dyslexic. He intended to say square and out came circle. And likewise, every previous time Shimon saw this shape and everyone called it "square," Shimon too intended to say the word "square," but the word "circle" came out. This is a matter of moving from the decision of what to say to actual performance (the utterance itself). Alternatively, it is a hearing problem: when everyone said "square," he heard "circle," and therefore he became accustomed to call this shape "circle." These explanations can of course also be applied to the first dispute I mentioned about the green hat (when one says it is green and the other says it is pink).

[10] But not because there is no truth; on the contrary: because there is one objective truth, as I explained above.

[11] On the question of conventionalism versus essentialism I elaborated in the second section of my book Two Carts.

[12] Sometimes there is room for semantic parting when the dispute is not resolved, and then, for the sake of efficiency, one agrees tentatively to adopt two concepts with different definitions, and that is that.

[13] See about this in column 247, note 2 (there I commented on David Enoch’s article regarding peer agreement).

[14] This depends on one’s worldview: whether or not one is a mathematical Platonist. Mathematical Platonism sees mathematics as a description of a reality in the world of ideas, not an abstract discipline detached from reality. From its perspective, mathematics discovers or reveals things; it does not create them. Therefore, from its perspective there is a correct and an incorrect definition. According to its opponents (formalists of various kinds), definitions can at most be assessed by their fruitfulness, not by their truth.

[15] And let us assume for the sake of discussion that there are no children, although even if there is expected harm with high probability to children, that is also true of other couples whom no one would dream of preventing from marrying.