On the Duplicity of Language
19
98
2,
Ju
ly
DR
AF
T
Charles Pyle
To Err is Human...
Alexander Pope
Copyright © July 2, 1998 by Charles Pyle.
All rights reserved.
[email protected]
ISBN 0-000-000000-0
ABCDEFGHIJ-DO-89
T
AF
DR
ii
On the Duplicity of Language (DRAFT of 10/14/99)
Contents
Contents iii
Figures vii
Preface ix
Introduction
CHAPTER 1
1
Establishing a General Frame of Reference
10
The Problem with the Normal Frame of Reference 11
The Paradox of the New and the Old 13
The Three Basic Facts Framing the Human Situation 16
Language as the Quintessential Human Problem 28
A Discussion of Some of the Various Ideas of the Nature of Language
33
The Naive Idea: Language as a Means of Communication 33
A More Sophisticated Scientific Idea: Language as a Means of Communication 35
The Most Sophisticated Idea: Language as an Organ 37
The Original Linguistic Insight: Language is Neither Organic or Physical 39
On the Naturalness of Duplicity
44
What Kind of Thing Are We Doing Here?
46
Is This Science? 50
Logic 50
Mental/Physical Dualism 52
The Boundary of Nature 53
Empirical Evidence 55
The Basic Question
57
The Theory of Signs
CHAPTER 2
59
Natural Logic
61
The Definition of a Sign
The Typology of Signs
63
65
General Characteristics of the Realm of Signs
The Cut 77
Strategy 83
75
On the Duplicity of Language (DRAFT of 10/14/99)
iii
Contents
The Dialogical Context
CHAPTER 3
The Syntagmatic Dimension of the Human Dialogue
87
90
The March of Folly 90
Socrates’ Allegory of the Shadows in the Cave 93
The Trojan Horse 96
The Theory of Language and Human Folly in the Hebrew Bible
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
105
109
The “Wild” Paradigm 111
Roman Jakobson on Wild Language and the Gap 119
The Symbolic Gap 124
The Relationship between Speaking and Hearing in Relation to the Symbolic Gap
A Survey of Facts which Evidence the Symbolic Gap 147
Wilderness vs. the City in the Bible 149
The Pragmatics of Language
CHAPTER 4
Framing the Pragmatic Dimension of Language
133
153
155
The Displacement of Interest from Pragmatics to Form 159
Language as Means of Communication
163
Gregory Bateson’s Steps to an Ecology of Mind
Claude Shannon’s Theory of Information 175
What is Information Then? 180
H. P. Grice’s Principle of Cooperation 184
170
Language as Instrument of Force 192
Language as Medium of Substitution 194
The Predicate of Differential Value: Prior 197
The Iconic Representation of Duplicity 202
Why Substitute? 207
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
CHAPTER 5
Two Superficial Examples of the Duplicity of Language
Irony 215
Polite Request
215
216
An Example of Duplicity Explained in Detail 217
An Analysis of the Duplicity of the Word “Duplicity” 222
A Variety of Examples Mentioned by Roman Jakobson 228
Symbolism
231
The Dove 232
The Rat Man 235
Incorporation 236
Nuts as Money 241
Euphemism
245
The Dynamics and Formal Mechanism of Euphemism
Various Examples of Euphemistic Distortion. 248
iv
246
On the Duplicity of Language (DRAFT of 10/14/99)
215
Contents
The Euphemistic Mutilation of Phonological Form 251
A Justification of the Term “Mutilation” 253
Indirect Speech Acts
257
The Indirect Speech Act as a Strategic Maneuver 261
On the Duplicity of The Word
269
The Signifier of a Word 271
The Signified of a Word 274
The Relation Between Signifier and Signified 277
Phonology
CHAPTER 6
285
The Phoneme
287
The Ontological Dilemma
298
The Strategic View of the Dilemma of Intersubjectivity 305
On the Psychological Reality of the Phoneme
314
Sapir’s First Example of Phonemic Illusion 318
Sapir’s Second Example of Phonemic Illusion 321
Sapir’s Third Example of Phonemic Illusion 323
Sapir’s Fourth Example of Phonemic Illusion 324
Sapir’s Fifth Example of Phonemic Illusion 328
The Implications of the Phonemic Illusion for the Science of Linguistics 335
The Phonetic Illusion
336
The Raw and the Cooked 339
The Breath as the Basis of Language
342
The Breath as Means of Liberation 343
The Breath as the Basis of Value in Phonology 345
A Brief Introduction to the Semantics and Pragmatics of Phonology
CHAPTER 7
Conclusion
346
353
Simplicity
353
Game Theory 354
Markedness in Language
355
Foreignness
355
Lies and Lie Detectors
355
BIBLIOGRAPHY 357
On the Duplicity of Language (DRAFT of 10/14/99)
v
Contents
vi
On the Duplicity of Language (DRAFT of 10/14/99)
Figures
FIGURE 1.
A Representation of the Logic of Duplicity
5
FIGURE 2.
The Angler Fish Phrynelox scaber
FIGURE 3.
The Typology of Signs
FIGURE 4.
The Cut
FIGURE 5.
The Wild \ Tame Paradigm in the Duplicitous Framework
FIGURE 6.
The Two Types of Wildness
FIGURE 7.
The Paradigm of the Symbolic Gap Including Both the Diachronic and Synchronic Dimensions
FIGURE 8.
The Most General Form of the Gap: The Child is Struck Totally Dumb
FIGURE 9.
The More Normal Form of the Gap: The Child is Struck Partially Dumb
45
75
79
113
122
FIGURE 10. The Gap as a Hole in Wild Language
130
131
132
FIGURE 11. The Relationship between Wild Language, Language, and the Gap
132
FIGURE 12. The Conventional Conceptualization of the Relationship between Speaking and Hearing
FIGURE 13. Trubetzkoy’s Tripartite Categorization of the Functions of Speech
FIGURE 14. The Relationship between Hearing and Speech in Language
FIGURE 15. The Stage of Hearing without Speech
FIGURE 17. The Paradigmatic and Syntagmatic Axes of Form
FIGURE 18. The Duplicitous Logic of Representation
203
FIGURE 20. The Compound Structure of Duplicity
206
211
FIGURE 23. The Right World-View
212
FIGURE 24. The Duplicity of Irony
216
145
157
158
210
FIGURE 25. The Duplicity of Polite Indirectness
217
FIGURE 26. The Duplicity of the Greeting Ceremony
FIGURE 27. The Duplicity of the word “Duplicity”
220
223
FIGURE 28. The Duplicity of the Dove as a Symbol of Peace
FIGURE 29. The Logic of the Duplicity of the Corporation
FIGURE 30. Euphemistic Phonological Mutilation
FIGURE 31. The Duplicity of Indirectness
138
197
FIGURE 19. The Elementary Structure of Duplicity
FIGURE 22. The Naive World-View
134
145
FIGURE 16. The Dimensions of Pragmatics, Semantics, and Form
FIGURE 21. Aladdin’s Substitutive Exchange
127
233
240
253
259
FIGURE 32. Saussure’s Idea of the Word Reframed in the Logic of Duplicity
271
FIGURE 33. A Representation of the Duplicity of the Word “Tree” Using Matrices
On the Duplicity of Language (DRAFT of 10/14/99)
275
vii
Figures
FIGURE 34. The Basic Elements of the Phonology of the Word “See.”
289
FIGURE 35. The Naive (or Cooked) View of the Phonology of the Word “See”
FIGURE 36. The Strategic Paradox
294
308
FIGURE 37. Sapir’s Original Misconceptualization of Nootka Glottal Sequences
326
FIGURE 38. Sapir’s Subsequent Conceptualization of Nootka Glottal Sequences 327
FIGURE 39. The Phonetic Variants of /s/
336
FIGURE 40. The Sophisticated View: The Phonemic/Allophonic Relation
337
FIGURE 41. A More Sophisticated View: The Phonemic, Allophonic, Phonetic Relation
FIGURE 42. The Living and the Raw and the Cooked
338
341
FIGURE 43. Trubetzkoy’s Characterization of the Relational Levels of Value in Phonology
FIGURE 44. An Example of Conventional vs. Onomatopoeic Meaning
FIGURE 45. A Paradigm of Exclamations
348
351
FIGURE 46. A Paradigm of Words of Affirmation and Denial 352
FIGURE 47. The Position of Game Theory in the Realm of Signs.
viii
354
On the Duplicity of Language (DRAFT of 10/14/99)
347
Preface
First I must state that this is a working draft. I have written it mostly for my own benefit. I
have been writing it as a way of working out the implications of certain assumptions I have made
as to the foundations of what I consider to be an adequate linguistic theory. Therefore I am only
writing about what I do not quite understand. Or what I did not understand before writing this. As
a result, the argument has gaps where I already understood things and the flow of argument comes
to an abrupt halt in some places leaving many loose ends dangling. These places are where I have
taken the argument to a point where I can clearly see how it would connect with dimensions of
language and bodies of fact that linguists are normally familiar with. Someday I intend to go back
and rewrite this text for other people, but at the moment I am unclear as to who I want to speak to.
Linguists? Peircians? Lacanians? A general intellectual? Or the ordinary person.
Second, I have found that most people, including linguists, and Peircians, but not Lacanians, have an very strong, and irrational, negative reaction to the notion that language is intrinsically duplicitous. One of the points I try to make in this text is that that reaction is to be expected
as a function of the fact that language is duplicitous. In the meantime, in order to ease the
approach to this argument, I would like to point out that all linguists already hold a premise,
though it is not much talked about, which is equivalent in effect to the premise that language is
duplicitous. I am referring to the premise, which all linguists hold as the very core of linguistic
theory, that the ordinary normal speaker of language is linguistically naive. In other words, my
claim that language is duplicitous is just another way of saying that the ordinary speaker is linguistically naive. One could say that I have arrived at the premise that language is duplicitous by
working out the implications of the premise that the ordinary speaker is linguistically naive.
There are a number of important implications as to the abnormal social and intellectual
position of linguistics as a consequence of this basic premise. The first implication is this: In
holding this premise the linguistic point of view is in conflict with the point of view of the man in
the street, as well as the lawyer, the economist, the sociologist, the psychologist, the anthropologist, the biologist, the physicist, etc. These persons all agree on the premise that the essential characteristic of man is that he is rational. The well known rational man that the lawyers talk about.
What happens to linguists is that the study of language compels them to realize that this premise
is just not true. When you study language objectively it becomes obvious that the belief that man
is rational is nothing more than a conventional prescription which has been erroneously taken to
be fact: Man should be rational, therefore man is rational. In human thought, through the logic of
identification, the prescription becomes the ideal, and the ideal becomes the real. I am what I
should be.
But even the merest child knows that man is not rational, and each of us says more or less
continually, “I am not what I should be.” It is perfectly obvious that our thoughts do not obey the
laws of rational logic. And neither does language. And neither do people. The laws of rational
logic have the same ontology and the same force as the laws of chess or football. So whether one
On the Duplicity of Language (DRAFT of 10/14/99)
ix
Preface
is thinking about rational logic in regard to law, or economics, or language the fact is that man is
not rational. So the belief that man is rational is not just false, it is obviously false.
And thus this commonly held belief is an apposite example of the naivete of the normal
human being, even if he is a highly educated lawyer or economist or sociologist.
Linguists have discovered that in order to make sense of anything in language one must
assume that man is normally naive in regard to language. And there is a world of difference
between being naive and simply not knowing something. There are two different kinds of not
knowing, or ignorance. For example, I do not know the telephone number of the current president
of France. I do not know the atomic weight of gold. I do not know how many bones there are in
the body of a whale. These are examples of simple ignorance. I have never had occasion to
encounter these things and so I do not know them, and there is no reason to expect that I would
know them. These things are entirely alien to me.
The other kind of ignorance is an active phenomenon. If Jim says, for example, “Bob
ignored me,” it means that Bob knew that Jim was there but he pretended that he did not know.
This is the kind of not-knowing that characterizes the relationship between the normal person and
his own language. This is what linguists have in mind when they characterize the normal human
being as linguistically naive. The fact is that the normal person knows his language in one sense,
but he does not know it in another.
So, whereas lawyers and economists conceptualize human behavior in terms of “the rational actor”, linguists conceptualize the linguistic situation, or in other words, the human situation,
in terms of a prototypical person whom they call “the linguistically naive speaker.” Thus we can
summarize the frame of reference as follows. .
The Normal Worldview
The Linguistic Worldview
Man is rational
Man is naive
And the whole linguistic dialogue turns on the fact that there are these two points of view and that
they are in essential conflict. In these terms, I would say that the job of linguistics is to try to
understand and make sense of this situation.
Of course, linguists are not always aware of this conflict, though I am arguing that they
should be. And while sometimes linguists talk about this prototypical naive person using the very
words “naive,”1 more often linguists implicitly presuppose the speaker is naive and talk about
him in other words. For example, even when linguists try to stick to the concrete facts of language, it is often necessary to acknowledge and to account for the inconsistency between the facts
of language and the erroneous beliefs about the facts that are held by “the general public” or “the
outside public” or “the layman.”2 So, although the word “naive” might not be mentioned, the idea
of the inadequate knowledge of the general public is still implicit in these concepts. Similarly, the
linguistic dialogue is peppered with words such as “mistake” or “error” in describing the beliefs
of the naive speaker in regard to his own language. So whether linguists explicitly talk about the
1. This is the way Ferdinand de Saussure looked at the linguistic situation as I show in the section entitled “On the Duplicity of The
Word” on page 269. And it is also the way Edward Sapir looked at the linguistic situation as I show in the section entitled “On
the Psychological Reality of the Phoneme” on page 314.
2. The premise of the naive speaker is set up in these terms in the introduction to Hockett’s A Course in Modern LInguistics and in
Martinet’s Elements of General Linguistics and in the preface of Sapir’s Language.
x
On the Duplicity of Language (DRAFT of 10/14/99)
Preface
concept of the naive speaker or not, and whether linguists are aware of it or not, the fact is that all
linguists implicitly agree that the normal person is linguistically naive.
Unfortunately, we linguists are normal human beings too, or at least we begin our study of
linguistics as normal human beings, and thus we too are inclined to be linguistically naive. Thus,
although we base our thinking about language on the premise that the normal human being is linguistically naive, this premise has remained below the level of awareness for the most part, and
consequently we have not tried to work out the implications of this premise.
As I look back in time I can see that I have been trying to work out the implications of this
fundamental premise for many years. Of course, I was not consciously aware of what I was doing
until recently. But now I am in a position to point out that the most basic and most important
implication of this assumption for the theory of language is that the naivete of the normal speaker
of language is manifest in language as the duplicity of language. That is, the duplicity of language
is the complement of the naivete of the speaker of language. Of course, many other important
things follow from the fact that the normal person is linguistically naive, but this is the most basic
implication for the theory of language. So the purpose of this book is to establish the validity of
this one single point of fact - language is duplicitous.
Although the whole aim of this book is to establish one point of fact, because that fact is a
primitive of the human situation, it has deep and far reaching consequences. Indeed, the implications of the duplicity of language permeate every branch and every twig and every leaf of human
experience. Therefore I could not possibly provide a comprehensive survey of the evidence, but I
have felt obliged to provide a wide and deep sampling of the evidence. As a consequence, some
of the evidence may be considered to be too far away from language per se to be relevant, some of
it may be considered to be too trivial or too microscopic to have significant force, some of it may
be considered to be too complex, illogical, confusing, etc. But, although these critical judgements
might be true and they might be important in some arguments, because of the nature of this
present argument they do not have the same force. As the old saying goes,
You don’t have to inspect every blade of grass to determine which way the wind is blowing.
So if you find a particular discussion to be irrelevant or insignificant or incomprehensible, just
skip it. The basic question is simple: Is language duplicitous, or not? It is not necessary to read
and understand every word. And it is not necessary to read the evidence in the given order. You
can just read the first few pages to get the basic idea and then skip around to read any issue that
grabs your attention. In fact, I think it is quite possible to get the point just by looking at the pictures.
And in regard to possible counterevidence, the question is also simple: Is there an element
of language that is not duplicitous? The hypothesis I am asserting is that there is no such thing. So
if you can find such a thing, you will have proven my hypothesis false. But don’t hold your
breath.
What is difficult about this issue is not on the level of finding evidence or understanding
evidence, but rather on the level of breaking free of the fetters of rational logic and learning how
to think in terms of the logic of duplicity, and on the level of understanding how a theory of language that purports to be scientific could be established on the foundation of the logic of duplicity. On the face of it the paradoxical logic of duplicity would seem to be utterly alien to the
logically pure realm of the scientific universe of discourse. And, of course, that is exactly my
point: the scientific universe of discourse is commonly supposed to be governed by rational logic,
On the Duplicity of Language (DRAFT of 10/14/99)
xi
Preface
but the fact is that all discourse is a function of language, and thus is conceptually downstream
from language, and thus the scientific discourse is already governed by the logic of duplicity, but
the typical scientist, being linguistically naive, is not aware of that fact.
To put it in terms of the science of linguistics, following Khun’s The Structure of Scientific
Revolution, linguists commonly talk about the quest of linguistics as a search for the right paradigm, or model, or metaphor. In the earliest stage of linguistics the Neo-Grammarians, along with
their contemporaries in other fields, such as Freud, assumed the then prevalent scientific imagery
of hydraulics and fluid mechanics seeking to explain language in terms of pressures and flows as
if language were a vast boiler system. Later linguists moved up to the imagery that had proved so
successful in theoretical physics. Kenneth Pike, for example, explicitly grounded his tagmemic
theory in the symbolic imagery that the science of physics was using at that time - particle, wave,
and field. Nowadays linguists try to make sense of language in terms of the symbolic imagery that
the hard sciences are using at this time - algebraic models of derivations, trees, grids, matrices,
fields, networks, etc.
Given that the scientific discourse is conceptually downstream from language, and that it
profoundly confused by the naivete of the typical scientist in regard to language, one must suppose that all such symbolic imagery is suspect in principle. So in regard to the quest of linguistics,
or any science for that matter, what I want to suggest here is that any paradigm or model or metaphor that is of a symbolic character is certain to be duplicitous, misleading, and confusing. All
symbolic metaphors, which includes symbolic logic, and thus all mathematical metaphors, are a
function of language and thus are of relatively little use in trying to understand language. I suggest that it would be better to try to understand language in terms of a more primitive and more
natural type of imagery. For example, we could take the angler-fish, Phrynelox scaber, pictured
on the title page of this book, and discussed in the section “On the Naturalness of Duplicity” on
page 44, as the basic metaphor of language. However, one must take care not to miss the point:
The point is not that the picture of this fish is the metaphor, nor that this particular biological species is the metaphor, but rather the point is that this species can be taken as an exemplar of a different type of genera, not a biological genera, but a pragmatic genera, namely, the genera of things
which function by means of duplicity.
The general plan of this book: It begins from the macroscopic and superficial view and
becomes progressively deeper and more microscopic. It begins with general problems, principles,
and examples and goes to more specific problems, principles, and examples. It begins with the
normal worldview, the point of view of the normal naive speaker, and goes progressively deeper
into the underlying layers of unconscious knowledge.
Another point. Developing a new theory of language on the basis of the logic of duplicity
does not require us to reject any facts or principles that have been discovered about the nature of
language. And it also does not require us to reject any of the theoretical machinery that has been
found useful in describing or explaining the facts of language. It just requires us to reframe them
on the basis of the logic of duplicity. And once one understands how to think in terms of the logic
of duplicity, which is really the way we think anyway, it easy to figure out how to reframe facts
and how to reformulate theoretical generalizations, rules, principles, etc., in terms of the logic of
duplicity.
xii
On the Duplicity of Language (DRAFT of 10/14/99)
CHAPTER 1
Introduction
The general purpose of this book is to develop an understanding of the human situation. I will
argue that the key to understanding the human situation is to realize that,
LANGUAGE IS DUPLICITOUS
The specific purpose of this book, then, is to establish this one point of fact, and to explore its implications.
In framing this endeavor, the first premise I want to lay down is this: If we want to understand
the human situation, we must orient our endeavor correctly in relation to the central and most dominant fact of the human situation.
What is this central and most dominant fact of human life? It is this: There is a mysterious
force at work in human life that causes confusion, erroneous thinking, misguided behavior, and suffering. As I will show below, if it is not already obvious, the normal human situation in all cultures
and throughout all history is dominated by this chronic tendency to confusion and suffering. This
troublesome tendency only infects human life, but it infects every aspect of human life. There is no
aspect of human life that is not subject to this strange human disorder. So the central and most dominant fact about the human situation is that human life is dominated by this distinctively human malady.
The human tendency to confusion is something like a gravitational force that governs the
realm of what is specifically human, and only what is specifically human. It governs every human
urge, taking control of it as soon as it is born, confusing it, turning it away from satisfaction, and
inclining it toward dissatisfaction and suffering. The tendency to confusion is to the human realm as
gravity is to the physical realm. Thus, as physical gravity governs the physical life of human beings,
so does this confusing gravity govern the mental life of human beings. And so, just as physical gravity is the central force of physical life on this earth, so is this confusing gravity the central force of
mental life in the human realm.
Given this fact, this most central and most remarkable gravitational force, which so dominates
the human situation, one would naturally assume that scientific studies of the human situation would
take it as the central point of reference in their endeavors to make sense of the human situation, all the
On the Duplicity of Language (Draft of 10/14/99)
1
Introduction
more so since it is so distressing. But what is perhaps the most strange thing of all about this strange
feature of the human situation is that the purportedly scientific studies of human nature have, almost
without exception, systematically ignored it.
Just think of the enormity of this systematic ignorance. It would be as if the science of physics
had tried to make sense of the physical universe while ignoring the force of gravity. Imagine where
the science of physics would be today if it had totally ignored gravity. And that is about where the
humanistic sciences are today. You can read the mainstream literature in psychology, anthropology,
sociology, history, political science, economics, etc. and you will rarely find even so much as a mention of the fact that human beings are dominated by the perverse tendency to confusion and suffering.
I suggest that this is why the humanistic sciences are so profoundly confused theoretically, and so
utterly useless practically. I suggest that this is why the humanistic sciences have remained at the
level where physics was before Galileo, i.e., in the Dark Ages.
So the basic premise of this book is that the central and most dominant fact of human life is
that human life is dominated by this strange tendency to confusion and suffering. And it follows that,
while it may not be a pleasant subject to contemplate, it is a fundamental strategic error to ignore this
central fact of human life. Therefore, instead of ignoring this fact, I hold that the scientific study of
human nature should focus upon this fact and take it as the central fact of any endeavor to make sense
of the human situation.
In the context of a frame of reference that takes this fact as the central reference point, the next
purpose of this book is to assert that the perverse tendency that plagues the human species is a function of language, which is the other thing that is uniquely characteristic of the human species. More
specifically, I assert that language is problematic in this way because it is duplicitous. Therefore, I
argue that the scientific study of human nature should be centered upon language. And the study of
language should be centered upon the duplicity of language.
Let me briefly describe how these three basic elements fit together to frame the normal human
situation. To begin with, it is a fact that people commonly believe in their language. At least normal
people do. They believe that their language is an honest and reliable broker of reality. They believe
that their language represents reality faithfully. They believe they can transact in reality through the
representations of their language. So they believe in the representations of their language. They
accept the representations of their language at face value and they rely on those representations. They
count on those representations. They invest themselves in those representations. They build their conceptualization of themselves and of reality on the basis of the representations of their language. They
build their worldview in the representations of language.
This common belief in the beneficial nature of language is found in all languages and so it can
be characterized as the foundation of the universal folk theory of language. Or in simpler terms, the
naive belief in the representations of language is the foundation of language. That is, language is sustained by people’s common belief in and trust of it. Language exists in the realm of naive belief. The
substance and the value and the power of language is a function of people’s common belief in and
trust of their language.
And since language is the framework in which we construct out individual identity and our
other social and cultural institutions, this folk theory of language is also the basis of individual identity, and the basis of other social and cultural institutions. Subscribing to this folk theory of language
2
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
is the very essence of the social contract. Thus this folk theory of language is the basis, not only for
primitive and old fashioned systems of thought, such as mythology and magic and folk-science, but
also for more sophisticated and modern systems of thought, such as history and technology and scientific science. And of particular relevance, this unconscious universal folk theory of language is the
basis of the modern scientific theory of language. That is, generally speaking, linguists are like other
scientists, and like historians, and like other folk, in that they also believe in and trust the representations of their language. Consequently, the prevailing modern scientific theories of language, like the
prevailing modern scientific theories of everything else, have been established on the basis of the universal folk theory of language which all normal people hold in common.
As is implicit in the foregoing, the basic purpose of this book is to point out that there is a universal folk theory of language and that this universal folk theory of language is naive and gullible.
While this claim might seem outrageous, and indeed I agree that it is outrageous, the question is
whether it is true. And the blunt truth is that the normal conventional world view is fundamentally
framed by the naive belief in the representations of language. But it should not be surprising that the
common folk theory of language should be naive and gullible when you realize, as I will explain
below, that each of us developed this folk theory of language when we were helpless infants. In
accord with the saying “The child is father to the man”, we developed the basic framework of our theory of the universe, our theory of ourselves, and our theory of language, etc., when we were naive and
gullible infants. So, while it is outrageous in one way, in another way it is quite natural that, if we
have never revisited our most primitive assumptions, we should find ourselves as adults still holding
on to an infantile worldview.
But now that we are adults, now that we can stand on our own two feet, now that we can eat
meat, now that we have suffered from our infantile theories for so many years, it is high time that we
subject our basic beliefs to critical scrutiny. And I am arguing that this critical scrutiny should begin
by bringing into question our blind faith in the credibility of the representations of language. I will
show that when we do critically investigate the representations of language it becomes clear that language is not an honest and reliable broker of reality. It becomes clear that, on the contrary, language
is essentially duplicitous. And so it becomes clear that it is a profound mistake to take the representations of language at face value. And therefore it becomes clear that the universal folk theory of language, and everything that is conceptually downstream from that theory, must be reframed on the
basis of the realization that language is essentially duplicitous.
The purpose of this book, then, is to assert, contrary to the common folk theory, and contrary
to prevailing linguistic theory, that language is essentially duplicitous. And, of course, to give evidence to prove that language is duplicitous. And to show how language works duplicitously. And to
begin to explore the implications of the duplicity of language. And to begin to reconstruct a more
adequate understanding of language and of the human situation in general on the basis of the realization that language is essentially duplicitous.
So the central point of this book is that language is duplicitous.
Some Common Misunderstandings
Because of the nature of the belief I am trying to call into question here, because it is normally
an unconscious belief, because it is such a primitive belief, and because it has such far reaching consequences, it is not easy to appreciate the implications of the point I am trying to make. In the face of
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
3
Introduction
such difficulty the mind automatically tries to find a easy way to understand, or rather, an easy way to
misunderstand. And this tendency to misunderstand is an example of how the duplicity of language
works. Way down deep in the structure of the conventional mind, institutionalized in language, is an
erroneous policy which leads us to accept the representations of language at face value, and thus to
systematically misunderstand things. So it might be helpful at the beginning for me to speak to some
of the common initial misunderstandings which I have encountered.
The first type of confusion I usually encounter is that people think I cannot mean what I have
said - that language is duplicitous - so they try to help me to state my point more accurately. They
suggest that perhaps what I mean is that language is ambiguous. Or, perhaps what I mean is that language can be used to lie, which everyone would concede, but surely not that language is always false.
Or, they concede that language is not perfect, but point out that it helps us to understand things, and it
would be impossible to live without it, so it would be foolish to throw the baby out with the bath
water. And having thus helped me to clarify my point, implicitly or explicitly, then they can dismiss
my whole argument as the work of a person who cannot tell the difference between ambiguity and
falsity, who is cynical, and who goes to extremes.
In reply to this confusion, first let me point out that it is not cynical to permit yourself to
become aware of a problem. It is realistic. And it is a necessary condition of solving a problem. So
what is at issue is not whether it is cynical to hold that language is duplicitous. The question is
whether language is duplicitous or not. It is an empirical question. And to evade the question is the
opposite of cynical, i.e., naive.
Second, I have not suggested throwing language out. I did not say that language is bad
because it is duplicitous. I said that language is problematic because it is duplicitous. I am not saying
that language is necessarily problematic. I am saying that it is problematic in so far as people think it
is not duplicitous and thus do not know how to interact with it correctly. So I am not suggesting that
we throw language out, but rather that we learn to understand what sort of thing language is and how
to use it.
Finally, let me assure the reader that I have formulated the basic point I am making with great
care. That is, I have intentionally chosen the verb “is” and the adjective “duplicitous.” I mean to
assert precisely that language is duplicitous, not merely that language can be duplicitous, nor merely
that language can be used duplicitously. And I mean to assert precisely that language is duplicitous,
not that language is false, not that language is ambiguous, not that language is vague. I am asserting
that language is duplicitous, intrinsically, necessarily, by its very nature. I am asserting that, as water
is wet, as fire is hot, so language is duplicitous.
The predicate of this proposition is the word “duplicitous.” So obviously, an appreciation of
the meaning of this word is the key to understanding the point I am trying to make. This is an ordinary English word, and I mean it in the ordinary sense, but I am elevating this ordinary word to the
level of a technical term in the theory of language. And I am positing this word as the seminal concept at the very root of the theory of language, and I am asserting that this ordinary word precisely
characterizes the ontology and the logic of language.
I will undertake a detailed analysis of the word “duplicity” in the section entitled “An Analysis of the Duplicity of the Word “Duplicity”” beginning on page 222, but for now I will just mention
the three basic characteristics of a duplicity:
4
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
1.
2.
3.
There are two levels in a duplicity.
There is a relation of priority between the two levels, i.e. one is first, the other is second.
The second of the two levels is false in relation to the first.
Let us consider a specific example of an ordinary type of duplicity, a metaphor. Suppose I say, “Bob
is a gazelle,” meaning to assert, not that Bob is a gazelle, but that Bob can run fast. In this case,
1.
2.
3.
The two levels involved are the literal and the metaphorical
The literal usage is first and the metaphorical usage is second
The second is false in relation to the first because from the literal point of view it is false to say that
“Bob is a gazelle” means “Bob can run fast.” In other words, Bob is not literally a gazelle, so it is
literally false to assert that he is.
I will represent the two levels of this metaphor, and metaphor in general, and duplicity in general as in
Figure 1 below.
FIGURE 1.
A Representation of the Logic of Duplicity
“Bob is a gazelle” means
Bob can run fast
Level 2 - Metaphor
“Bob is a gazelle” means
Bob is a gazelle
Level 1 - A Literal Speech Act
Now that we have this concrete example of linguistic duplicity before us, we can address a
deeper level of misunderstanding that I have frequently encountered. The root of this deeper misunderstanding is an erroneous conceptualization of the relation between the true and the false and the
duplicitous. We will be exploring this relation more fully below, but the point I want to make here at
the beginning is that, while duplicity is a species of falseness, a duplicity is not simply a falsity.
Indeed, I will argue that there is no such thing as a simple falsity. But in any case, the point is that
what makes a duplicity precisely a duplicity, as distinct from a falsity, is that it is both true and false.
So it is an error to hold that a duplicity is just plain false. Whether a duplicity is true or false depends
on how you take it.
Our metaphorical example makes this point clear. In saying that this metaphor is duplicitous I
am not saying that it is simply false, but that it is false from a certain point of view, namely from the
literal point of view. But while it is false from the literal point of view, it may well be true in the metaphorical sense. If Bob is fast, then it is true, metaphorically. But false literally. So a metaphor can be
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
5
Introduction
both true and false, depending on what level you look at it from. And what I am asserting is that this
applies mutatis mutandis to duplicity in general, and thus to every element of language.
So to those who naively attack my argument by arguing reductio ad absurdum, “Are you saying that there is nothing good about language and that we should not use language at all?”, I reply,
“That would be absurd.” The point I am making is this: because of its duplicitous nature language is a
slippery and dangerous thing, a thing of insidious sinuosities, and therefore it is important to understand the nature of language and how it works. I am saying that, just as it is important to understand
that fire is hot and to know that it can burn you, so too it is important to understand that language is
duplicitous and to know that it can confuse you.
And to those who naively attack my argument by trying to turn it against itself thus, “If you
insist that all statements are duplicitous, and hence false, then your argument, your theory, and anything you say about language is also false”, I reply thus. First, as I pointed out above, it is an error to
think that a duplicity is simply false. In fact, although every duplicity is false, every duplicity, even
the sort of thing that is considered to be a plain lie, also necessarily conveys truth - if you look at it
from the right point of view. So in terms of our example, it would be an error to conclude that because
the sentence “Bob is a gazelle” is literally false, that it does not convey a meaningful truth functional
proposition. It does convey a proposition, namely, “Bob can run fast,” and that proposition may literally be true, but the truth of this assertion depends on the nature of Bob and not on the nature of language. So the point is that the truthfulness of the proposition that is metaphorically conveyed by the
sentence is of a different logical type from the truthfulness of the proposition that is conveyed by the
sentence on the literal level. I believe this distinction is akin to the distinction logicians make between
synthetic and analytic truth. If so, then we can say that this metaphor is analytically false, but it might
well be synthetically true. And the same can be said mutatis mutandis for all metaphor, and for all of
language. Thus it can be seen that this line of attack has no force because it is based on a false
premise.
And I might as well deal with a variant of this line of attack which I have encountered. It goes
like this:
If every element of language is duplicitous, then the word “duplicity” is duplicitous. It is a matter of common
knowledge that a logically coherent scientific theory cannot be constructed upon the basis of an ambiguous word,
much less a duplicitous word; therefore a logically coherent theory of language cannot be based on the word
“duplicity.”
To this argument I reply with two observations. First, I concede that this argument is correct in concluding that the word “duplicity” is duplicitous. Indeed, it does not go far enough because the fact is
that this word “duplicity” is duplicitous in several different ways. We will explore the levels of the
duplicity of this key word in depth in the section entitled “An Analysis of the Duplicity of the Word
“Duplicity”” beginning on page 222, where I will try to make it clear that I found this particular word
to be astonishingly appropriate to serve as the basic predicate of a theory of language precisely
because it is itself a duplicitous duplicity. Second, in regard to the widely held belief that a proper scientific theory must be based on unambiguous words, I reply that this belief is no more than a naive
ideal. If language is essentially duplicitous, then there is no such thing as an unambiguous word.
Therefore any theory of anything that is based upon any word or any other symbol necessarily violates this prescription.
Abstracting from these specific misunderstandings, we can extract a general principle that is
being misunderstood. The principle is this: If it is true that language, the repository of conventional
6
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
wisdom, is duplicitous, then the whole universe of conventional wisdoms must be duplicitous. Therefore, if language is duplicitous, one cannot continue to rely on the same naive and simpleminded way
of thinking about language, or anything that is conceptually downstream from language. And the
most basic element of this naive thinking is the idea that just because something is duplicitous, or
even blatantly false, it is thereby to be rejected as meaningless and useless. The contrary is the case:
the very essence of meaningfulness in the realm of language is a function of the duplicity of language. And this duplicitous meaningfulness that is characteristic of language is illustrated by the metaphor represented in Figure 1. This is an example of the type of meaningfulness that is characteristic
of language.
So returning to the beginning once again, the point I want to make in this book is that language is of a duplicitous nature intrinsically and necessarily. It is not that we human beings have the
option of creating a language that is not duplicitous, although philosophers have spent a lot of effort
trying to do just that. The duplicity of language is prior to and independent of our personal desires
and our personal intentions and our personal competence. Whether we intend to lie or to tell the truth,
and whether we understand or misunderstand what we say or what others say, and whether we manage to use language to our satisfaction or not, the fact is that language is duplicitous because that is
the nature of language. When we use language, we use something that is duplicitous. It is inescapable. There can no more be an un-duplicitous language than there can be an un-hot fire.
In this regard, language is like any other natural phenomenon. Water is wet, whether we drink
it to satisfy our thirst or drown in it. And fire is hot, whether we cook our food with it or burn our
house down with it. So too, language is duplicitous, whether we understand it or get hopelessly confused by it.
However, the fact that the nature of things is independent of our intentions or desires does not
imply that the nature of things is outside of the sphere of our interest. On the contrary, if we are to
function satisfactorily in this world, we must understand the nature of things. And if this is true of fire
and water, which are not inherently troublesome, how much more does it apply to language, which is
not only duplicitous, but insidiously duplicitous. So the motive for trying to understand the duplicity
of language is greater than that for trying to understand fire and water. Let me spell it out.
If you were in a business relationship with someone whom you trusted, and if he was a double-dealing con man, that would be a problem, and you would want to know about it. And the deeper
and the more intimate your involvement with this person, the more serious the problem, and the more
important it would be to know about it. So, given the depth and intimacy of our involvement with our
language, given that our language, our mother tongue, is the medium in which we have constructed
our identity and our world view, given that our language is the medium in which we conduct our
business and personal relationships, if language is intrinsically duplicitous, then we confront a very
deep and pervasive problem, and it is correspondingly all the more important for us to know about it.
The problem is that it is an error to naively believe in and trust the duplicitous representations of our
language. The bizarre, incoherent, self-destructive character of this error aptly described over a thousand years ago by the sixth patriarch of Chinese Buddhism, Huang Po, who said, “It is like mistaking
a thief for your son.” (Blofeld, p. 42) Therefore, I will go so far as to assert that the duplicity of language is the single most important problem for every human being because it not only engenders a
world of confusion and suffering on its own, but because it also exacerbates every other problem.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
7
Introduction
Of course the problem of understanding the duplicity of language can be framed, like all problems, as a scientific problem. But it is important to realize that if we take the scientific approach to the
problem that does not mean that it is just an abstract theoretical problem. The fact is that this is a concrete personal problem that goes to the most vital interests of every human being. And what is more it
is not just a potential problem like poverty, or cancer, or killer bees, or nuclear war. The problem of
the duplicity of language is a vital personal problem that each and every one of us is suffering from at
this very moment.
It is important to bear this in mind because the present study of the duplicity of language is
motivated at bottom by this immediate concrete ordinary everyday problematicalness. But neither the
problematicalness nor the duplicity of language can be understood from the ordinary everyday point
of view, for the ordinary point of view is implicated in the problem. The ordinary point of view is the
problem. The ordinary conventional point of view is a function of language, so it is conceptually
downstream from the duplicity of language, so one cannot comprehend the duplicity of language
from that vantage point. When we look at things from the ordinary conventional point of view we are
like the proverbial fish in the water who can not see that he is in the water because he is in the water.
Therefore, to be able to see and understand the duplicity of language we have to approach it from a
more general and more primitive point of view. So although we are motivated by the ordinary problems that are engendered by the duplicity of language, we can best approach those ordinary problems
from the extraordinary point of view of the science of linguistics.
Unfortunately, however, the theory of language which currently dominates the science of linguistics is also downstream from the duplicity of language, as I will show below, so we will have to
develop a new theory of language based upon the realization that language is essentially duplicitous.
So the purpose of this book is to establish the premise that language is duplicitous and to begin to
develop a new theory of language on the basis of that premise.
But the point I am trying to stress here is that as we pursue a theoretical understanding of the
duplicity of language we must not loose sight of the fact that we are simultaneously pursuing the
practical problem of understanding the duplicity of language. There are not two problems and two
understandings here, a theoretical one and a practical one, but one problem and one understanding.
The disease of duplicity is different from a medical disease, for example, where a theoretical understanding and a cure are two different things. To put it in terms of the ancient distinction made by
Socrates, in medicine thései is different from phúsei, but because of the duplicitous nature of language, in language they are the same. The abstract theoretical problem and the concrete practical
problem are the same. So in regard to the problem of the duplicity of language, because of the nature
of duplicity, understanding is the cure. To understand a duplicity is to master it, to transform it from a
confusing and potentially malevolent thing into a benevolent thing, from a poisonous serpent into a
nutritious treat. Therefore as we pursue a theoretical understanding of the duplicity of language down
into the depths of language let us continually bear in mind that a theoretical understanding of the
duplicity of language is the solution to the practical problem of human confusion.
Two Corollaries of the Duplicity of Language
I think it might be helpful in framing this discussion to state the two most important corollaries of the premise that language is duplicitous. First, if language is essentially duplicitous, then language is of a duplicitous ontology. This means that language is not essentially a physical thing, nor is
8
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
it essentially a biological thing, but rather language is essentially a truth thing. Therefore, language is
not governed by the laws of physical or biological nature, but by the laws of truth. And language is
not a function of physical forces, but a function of the force of truth.
Second, if language is essentially duplicitous, then everything in language is duplicitous, and
from this it follows that there must be two different kinds of logic. Of course the very idea of two logics would be absurd from the conventional logical point of view, but that is the point of view we are
in the process of trying to break free of. And outside of that narrow conventional perspective it is a
matter of common knowledge that there are two logics, informally known as rational logic and irrational logic. Technically, the former is known as “symbolic logic”, and I suggest that the latter is the
paradoxical logic of duplicity.
The suggestion that there are two logics may come as a surprise to logicians, but not only is it
common knowledge that there are two logics, but numerous scholars in various disciplines have been
independently led by empirical fact to suggest that there are two logics. I will mention three in passing. First, Sigmund Freud argued that in order to understand human reasoning it is necessary to posit
two systems of logic, which he called primary and secondary reasoning. Second, Edward Luttwak
argued that in order to understand the realm of strategy one must realize that it is governed by a “paradoxical logic of its own, standing against the ordinary linear logic.” (p. 4) Third, I will show below
in Chapter 2 that, as it happens, there is already a well developed theoretical framework which allows
for two different kinds of logic and is based upon the logic of duplicity, namely, Peirce’s theory of
signs. In Peirce’s theory of signs all signs are generated by an mental, or logical, operation which he
called the “cut”; the cut divides the prior universe of discourse thereby deriving a subsequent universe of discourse as represented in Figure 1. So in the theory of signs the duplicity of all signs, and
thus of language, is a function of the cut. And thus the logic of all signs, and thus the logic of language, is a function of the logic of the cut, which is the logic of duplicity. So the second corollary is
that there are two logics.
And of course many other important implications follow from the fact that language is essentially duplicitous. For example, if one assumes that human psychology is largely a function of language, as I do, then it also follows that the theory of human psychology must be based, not upon the
laws of physics and biology, but upon the ontology and logic of duplicity as a function of truth. Thus
the elements of human psychology such as “I”, “ego”, and “identity”, for example, must be duplicitous objects. Below I show that, as it happens, Jacques Lacan’s transformation of Freud’s theory of
human psychology into the framework of linguistics has gone a long way in the development of just
such a theory of psychology.
Another line of implication: If one assumes that human society and culture is largely a function of language, as I do, then it also follows that the theory of society and culture must be based upon
the ontology and logic of duplicity. As far as I am aware such a theory has not been developed in any
systematic way in anthropology or sociology, though my knowledge of these disciplines is by no
means comprehensive. I point out, however, that several different dualistic concepts, such a Pike’s
etic/emic, Levi-Strauss’ raw/cooked, Freud’s primary processes/secondary processes, Lacan’s imaginary/symbolic, Jakobson’s similarity/contiguity, and Geertz’ thin description/thick description, to
mention just a few, have been used as the framework for the analysis of aspects of society and culture, and all of these dualisims are instances of the logic of duplicity. It would seem that a theory of
society and culture explicitly based on the logic of duplicity would be more adequate. And, of course,
Lacan’s transformation of Freud’s theory of human psychology also provides the framework for a
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
9
Introduction
theory of society and culture, because, if the pronoun “I” is duplicitous, so is “you” and “he”, and the
overbearing “they”, and so is the whole fabric of society and culture.
Having pursued the implications of the duplicity of language this far, it is obvious that the
implications of the duplicity of language radiate out into every aspect of human life. Not only is language itself duplicitous, but our conceptualization of our selves and our entire worldview is duplicitous. So there is nothing in human experience that is not at least potentially subject to the duplicity of
language. Having thus delimited the outer boundaries of the problem of the duplicity of language, let
us return back to the beginning to consider our approach to the root of the problem, which is the
duplicity of language.
Establishing a General Frame of Reference
In this section I would like to step back from our narrow focus on the duplicity of language to
try to develop an appreciation of how the duplicity of language relates to the human situation in general. In this way we can establish a general frame of reference in which to orient our inquiry into the
duplicity of language.
Some twenty years ago, as I was marveling at the depth and the breadth of human confusion
as it was being played out in my own life at the time, it dawned on me that the reason we have so consistently been frustrated in our efforts to understand human nature is that there is something fundamentally wrong with the frame of reference we commonly assume in trying to understand human
nature.
Perhaps this seems trivially obvious, but let me explain. What became clear to me was that
there is a pattern to our confusion. It is not chaotic, as it is normally supposed to be. But we do not
normally notice the pattern precisely because it is contrary to what it is normally supposed to be.1 The
normal idea of confusion is this: we understand things in general, but the continuity of our understanding is intermittently interrupted by brief episodes of confusion and misunderstanding. However,
in reality it is just the opposite: we are generally confused about things, particularly in the realm of
human nature, and the continuity of our confusion is intermittently interrupted by brief flashes of
understanding that burst mysteriously out of the fog of confusion. The epistemological pattern that is
normally thought to obtain is just a myth. The epistemological pattern that really does obtain is one of
continuous confusion occasionally interrupted by flashes of understanding.
In other words, we are not like the normal stereotypical person, for whom getting lost would
be a rare event that might happen by chance once in a while on the way home from work, but rather
we are more or less continuously lost, and we only catch a glimpse of home once in a while, fleetingly as in a vision or a dream, but in reality we have no idea where home is or how to get there. We
1. I use the word “normal” in the literal sense of “in accord with a norm”, where a norm is a conventional rule or law,
rather than in the statistical sense of “the most frequent”, though sometimes the normal may happen to be the most frequent. An etymological note that is relevant to the present discussion: “norm” is from the Proto-Indoeuropean root
*gno- “to know” and is thus cognate with “know”, “cognition”, “ignorant”, and Greek “gnosis”. Thus “to be normal” is
normally confused with “to be known.”
10
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Establishing a General Frame of Reference
are like the proverbial pilgrim stricken with amnesia in a foreign land who tries to find his way home
by means of a compass that systematically points in the wrong direction.
When one comes to realize that confusion and misunderstanding is the norm, that we systematically misunderstand things, especially human nature, and our selves, it is a small step to interpret
that systematic misunderstanding as a sign of systematic error. The systematic pattern of our misunderstanding points to some primitive error way down deep in the frame of reference we commonly
assume in trying to understand human nature. So the frame of reference, the system of beliefs, which
we commonly take for granted is the compass that systematically points in the wrong direction.
Therefore, the practical implication of the pattern of our confusion is that we must sit down
right where we are and try to fix our compass before we take even a single step toward home, for
although it is true that the longest journey begins with a single step, and although it is true that the
sooner we begin the sooner we will arrive, and although it is true that he who hesitates is lost, it is
also true that we are already lost and that every step we take in the wrong direction makes the longest
journey even longer. This was what dawned on me some twenty years ago as I was marveling at the
thickness and richness of the fabric of our confusion.
Since then I have been pursuing the questions that follow from this realization. What exactly
is the frame of reference we commonly assume? How is it that we come to subscribe collectively to
the same wrong frame of reference? Why do we commonly subscribe to a frame of reference that is
wrong? What is wrong with it? And, how can we rectify it?
The Problem with the Normal Frame of Reference
Obviously it will be necessary at the beginning of this book to establish the validity of the
premise that there is something fundamentally wrong with the frame of reference we normally
assume in trying to understand human nature, or at least to establish the prima facie plausibility of
this premise as a working hypothesis. But for several reasons I do not think the best way to establish
this premise would be to retrace the same line of reasoning that I followed. One reason is this: The
line of reasoning that I followed passed through some arcane technical issues in the foundations of
linguistic theory, such as the problematic ontology of the phoneme. The point is not that those issues
are unimportant nowadays, but that they presuppose a knowledge of the foundations of linguistic theory which would make the argument impossible for a general audience, or even for many linguists, to
follow or to appreciate. Another reason is this: I think that it is better in principle to invest effort in
developing understanding on the basis of correctness than in trying to reenact the history of our wanderings in the confusion of error. But the main reason is this: After I came to the conclusion that this
premise is true by following a long and obscure and convoluted line of thought, I came to realize that,
if you stand back and look at the human situation in general from the perspective of the ordinary person, the truth of this premise is perfectly obvious to the ordinary person and the relevant facts are
common knowledge. In other words, after I took a long and difficult way to arrive at the realization
that the premise is true, I realized that there is a short and easy and better way to arrive at the same
place. So the easiest and the most generally comprehensible and the most advantageous ground on
which to establish the premise of this book is on the ground of common knowledge. So that is what I
will try to do.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
11
Introduction
The frame of reference we commonly assume in trying to make sense of human nature is basically the conventional frame of reference, which, of course, in our modern cultural milieu is dominated by the scientific frame of reference. The scientific frame of reference has come to dominate our
conventional frame of reference for a good reason: because the scientific frame of reference has
established a spectacular record of success in making sense of the physical universe, and as a consequence it has enabled us to exercise a previously unimaginable degree of mastery of the physical universe, and thus it has enabled us to attain a previously unimaginable degree of satisfaction of our
needs and desires, at least in so far as our needs and desires can be addressed by physical means. In
other words, in accord with the pragmatic standard of correctness, the scientific frame of reference is
held in such high esteem and is considered to be correct because it works. It satisfies. This is a matter
of common knowledge.
But it is also a matter of common knowledge that the scientific frame of reference has a record
of failure in understanding human nature with the consequence that after hundreds of years of effort
we are no more masters of the human realm, or even of our individual selves, than people were hundreds or thousands of years ago. And there is every reason to believe that after having lived under the
government of the scientific frame of reference for a hundred years or so we are just as confused and
frustrated and dissatisfied as our ancestors were hundreds or thousands of years ago, if not perhaps
more so. This record of failure leads to the conclusion, by the same pragmatic standard that leads us
to believe in the correctness of the scientific frame of reference in regard to physical nature, that there
is something fundamentally wrong with the scientific frame of reference as it has been brought to
bear on human nature. That is, the prevailing scientific frame of reference, which evolved in relation
to the study of physical nature, does not work when applied to human nature. It does not satisfy. This
too is a matter of common knowledge.
This is not to say that there have been no gains in our understanding of human nature in the
prevailing scientific frame of reference. The point is rather that such gains as have been made are
fragmentary and disjointed. In other words, many new pieces of the puzzle have been discovered, but
the picture of which they are pieces has not become clearer. And these fragmentary discoveries have
not contributed in any significant degree to our ability to master human nature in anything approaching the degree to which we have mastered physical nature. In sum, these fragmentary discoveries do
not satisfy.
What is more, as the scientific study of human nature has evolved, instead of developing a
progressively increasing degree of theoretical coherence, the study of human nature has become progressively more and more fragmented to the extent that today there is no common ground that could
be thought of as the foundation of the human sciences. There is, in other words, no such thing as a
unified theory of human science in the same sense as there is unified theory of physical science.
There is psychology, which includes innumerable conflicting and mutually exclusive schools of
thought. There is anthropology, which also includes innumerable conflicting and mutually exclusive
schools of thought. There is sociology, ditto. There is linguistics, ditto. There is philosophy, ditto.
Etc., etc.
It is this persistent and general pattern of failure and fragmentation, which are the cardinal
symptoms of error, and especially by contrast with the pattern of success in making sense of physical
nature, that compels the conclusion that there is something fundamentally wrong with the frame of
reference that we have been commonly assuming in trying to understand of human nature. So on this
12
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Establishing a General Frame of Reference
general level of analysis the purpose of this book is to identify what is wrong with the prevailing
frame of reference, to propose a new and better frame of reference, and to begin to explore the human
situation as seen from this new and better point of view.
The Paradox of the New and the Old
Before I go any further, however, I must parenthetically address a problem in this statement of
purpose. There is an element of confusion in the statement of purpose which is unavoidable because
it is intrinsic to the point I want to make here. The element of confusion is that this new way of framing the study of human nature that I want to propose here is not really new at all. Or rather, it is both
new and old. Let me explain.
This paradox is a manifestation of the duplicity of language, upon which I want to focus our
attention below, but this particular duplicity happens to rise to the level of a crucial issue in the
attempt to state the purpose of this book, so it is necessary for me to explain this particular duplicity
in trying to state the purpose of this book.
In brief, this paradox about newness vs. oldness is a function of the repressive dynamic of the
conventional frame of reference in relation to truth. The conventional perspective known as “history”
is inconsistent with truth in such a way that the same truth keeps reappearing over and over again in
the dimension of history. (And this is the case whether one is looking at the history of an individual or
the history of a society.) So truth is manifest in the dimension of history as repetition. The same old
truth keeps reappearing over and over again. But the same old truth that keeps reappearing always
strikes us as a new, fresh, vital way of looking at things each time it appears. Let me explain this
chronological paradox in terms of the two frames of reference we are considering here (the old conventional way and the new way I am proposing) and then I will discuss an example to illustrate the
paradox concretely.
We are considering two different and conflicting ways of looking at things: the conventional
way and the other way that I want to propose here. The conventional frame of reference is systematically opposed to the other way of looking at things, just as conventional standards of dress are
opposed to nakedness. So the other way of looking at things tends to be excluded from the conventional universe of discourse, just as nakedness tends to be excluded from the universe of public intercourse. As a consequence, this other way of looking at things does not normally appear, at least not in
a normal way, in the normal course of human interaction. So whenever we happen by chance to catch
a glimpse of someone or something as seen from this other point of view, the abnormality of such a
sight is striking, it surprises us, and it seems new.
And yet, in as much as the conventional is systematically opposed to this other way of looking
at things, the other way of looking at things is always there under the surface of the conventional, just
as we are always naked under our clothing. So this other way of looking at the human situation is
really prior to the conventional, just as nakedness is prior to clothing. But the conventional regards
the underlying level of phenomena as a dirty secret, and so we are conventionally obliged to participate in a collective conspiracy to keep this underlying level of things hidden from public view, an
obligation which places us in a perplexing paradoxical situation such as that portrayed in the fable of
the Emperor’s new clothes.1
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
13
Introduction
And what is more, this obligation is not only logically paradoxical, but it is also pragmatically
impossible, for no matter how hard we try to cover it up, the underlying is still there. And what is
worse, the underlying, being intrinsically mischievous from the conventional point of view, always
manages to make itself manifest in the very form of the conventional in many different ways. For
example, the shape of the underlying is systematically manifest in and actually governs the general
shape of the conventional, just as the topography of the land underlying a city is systematically manifest in and governs the general shape of the city. A city will tend to have hills and valleys where there
were hills and valleys before the city was built. The seven hills of Rome were there before the city
was founded.
Another example of how the underlying is manifest in the surface of the conventional: the
structures that comprise the city, the roads and buildings, are constructed of materials such as bricks,
and cement, and steel that are extracted from the earth, materials that were there prior to the city.
Another example: little bits and pieces of the underlying intermittently break through the conventional facade to appear naked on the surface, if only for a brief moment, in one or another forbidden
form such as insanity, or criminality, or art, or a joke, or a slip of the tongue. Then these conventionally forbidden manifestations are quickly covered up and repressed in one way or another, e.g. by
being ignored, disguised, hidden, forgotten, etc., like the proverbial crazy old aunt we keep locked up
in the basement when company comes to visit.
Let me briefly discuss an example of this latter kind where the nakedness which underlies the
conventional momentarily breaks through to the surface of our interactions. Consider a typical example of the conventional way of insulting someone: suppose Bob says to Jim,
Bob:
You are a fool.
And by contrast consider the following dialogue in which Bob does more or less the same thing to
Jim, but in another way, a deeper, and more effective, and more satisfying way.
Bob:
Jim:
Bob:
Do you know how to make a fool wait?
No, how?
I will tell you tomorrow.
While these two speech acts might seem to be doing the same on the surface in the sense that they are
both insulting, as a matter of pragmatic reality they are radically different in the sense that they do not
do the same thing at all. The former speech act merely asserts that Jim is a fool; the latter speech act
makes Jim a fool. The former merely represents a state of affairs; the latter actually causes that state
of affairs to happen. The former has mere conventional force; the latter has real force. The former is
like talking about food; the latter is like eating. The former is like phone sex; the latter is like real sex.
The former induces a verbal response; the latter induces laughter. And this difference is encoded in
English grammar: we say that Jim is a fool, but we do not say a joke, we make a joke, just as we
make love. So the former is an act of saying, while the latter is an act of doing.
1. This obligation is not just a fable. In his insightful and influential analysis of social structure in terms of frames of reference Irving Goffman demonstrated that in order to sustain the normal conceptualization of reality we are obliged to
become “collaborators in unreality” which involves adopting an attitude of “voluntary ignorance” on one hand and a
willingness to pretend that what we are normally obliged to believe is really true on the other. (Quotes from Frame
Analysis p. 46.) And, of course, there are powerful sanctions to enforce this obligation to collaborate in unreality.
14
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Establishing a General Frame of Reference
On a more technical linguistic level, we can say that although both speech acts use language,
what distinguishes a joke from a normal speech act is precisely that a joke uses language, in the
derogatory sense of “uses.” A joke takes advantage of language. A joke violates and misuses and
exploits language in order to satisfy its own ends, i.e., ends which are outside the sphere of language,
and which are therefore generally brutish and uncivilized in some sense or other, and of course prohibited by language. So a joke exploits language to satisfy desires that are prohibited by language and
which, not coincidentally, language is incapable in principle of getting at. This is the underlying layer
of things we want to try to get at here.
At the level of pragmatic principles then we can characterize the difference as follows. The
former is a conventional act, whereas the latter is a strategic act. That is, the former attack is governed
by conventional principles, whereas the latter attack is governed by strategic principles. We will
return to discuss the pragmatics of the conventional vs. the strategic in more detail below, but to elaborate briefly here, the conventional attack establishes a relation of symmetrical conflict such that Jim
can defend himself merely by replying in kind with the same sentence inverted in one way or another,
e.g., “I am not a fool” or “You are a fool”. In this way the conventional speech act sets in motion a
system of symmetrical exchange which evolves, if that is the word, into a cyclical dialogue of symmetrical reciprocity which results in a theoretically endless series of repetitions of the sort that is
common in the arguments of children, as illustrated in the following dialogue, and in slightly more
sophisticated ways, in the arguments and wars of adults, of which the trench warfare of World War I
is probably the prime example.
Bob:
Jim:
Bob:
Jim:
Bob:
Jim:
You are a fool.
No, I am not a fool.
Yes, you are.
No, I’m not.
Are too.
Am not.
By contrast, the strategic attack begins by establishing a relationship of asymmetrical conflict
such that the possibility of conflict is reduced to a minimum. The strategic attack here maneuvers to
establish such a relationship by using a seemingly innocent question to lure Jim to take an exposed
position, a position which exposes him to the coup de grâce, against which there is no defense whatever, and which brings this speech act to a sudden and complete and natural climax. So whereas the
conventional dialogue tends to develop into an endless cycle of symmetrical exchanges, an endless
cycle of repetitions, an endless cycle of unsatisfying and inconclusive repetitions, this other way of
interacting tends to develop into a climactic and intrinsically satisfying consummation.
So this other way of doing the “same” thing is experienced as a new and pleasurable way of
actually doing in reality what the conventional way merely represents. And note that this joke is
experienced as new even though it is actually very old.
I hope these brief observations make it clear that this other way of looking at the human situation - in terms of what is really going on under the surface, as distinct from looking at what is conven-
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
15
Introduction
tionally represented on the surface - is a possibility that is necessarily available as alternative
underlying the surface of the conventional.
As would be expected then, since this other way of looking at the human situation is not really
hidden, except from the conventional point of view (like the nakedness of the Emperor, which is perfectly obvious, his clothes being mere pretense), this other way of looking at the human situation has
been rediscovered there under the surface of conventional pretense again and again and again independently in different cultural settings at different times throughout history. We will discuss many
examples of the repeated discoveries of this underlying perspective in more or less detail throughout
the discussion below.
I mention in passing, for example, The Concept of Anxiety written by the Danish philosopher
Søren Kierkegaard in 1844 in which he was trying to explain this underlying way of looking at the
human situation. He talked about the two ways of looking at the human situation thus:
There is an old saying that to understand and to understand are two things, and so they are. ...for a man to understand what he himself says is one thing, and to understand himself in what he says is something else. (p. 142)
And in keeping with the humorous spirit of this observation, this other way of looking at things is
always akin to a joke in that it violates the conventional rules (to say “to understand and to understand
are two things” violates the logic of reference in grammar) for the purpose of uncovering a new and
fresh and vital and pleasurable way of looking at things, although what is thus uncovered is actually
the old way, the way that is prior to the conventional. This is the sense in which this other way of
looking at the human situation that I want to propose here is new, and yet it is really old.
In the light of this clarification of the chronological inconsistency between the conventional
way of looking at things and the way of looking at things I want to get at here, I will restate the purpose of this book more precisely as follows. The purpose of this book is not exactly to propose a new
way of looking at the human situation, but rather to uncover the old way of looking at the human situation anew.1 And then, having laid bare the underlying way of looking at the human situation, we
will begin to explore the human situation as seen from this new point of view in order to directly
experience its validity and its practical utility as a better and more satisfying way of understanding
human nature.
The Three Basic Facts Framing the Human Situation
The purpose of this section is to establish the three basic premises of the new frame of reference that I am proposing here. I assert that these three premises enjoy the epistemological status of
being perfectly obvious, if not technically self-evident, facts. And thus I will assert that this frame of
reference enjoys the advantage of epistemological certainty, as well as explanatory adequacy, and
pragmatic utility. Therefore, I will refer to the three premises as the three basic facts framing the
human situation.
1. By the way note the implications of the grammar of the determiners here: a vs. the. It is logically impossible to “propose the new”. We will discuss the logic of this difference below.
16
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Establishing a General Frame of Reference
As we begin this discussion I will simply state the three facts and then explain in more detail
where they come from and how they are interrelated.
1.
2.
3.
The normal human situation is a state of chronic confusion and suffering.
Language is the root of the human type of confusion, which causes the human type of suffering.
Language is confusing because it is duplicitous.
Now let us orient ourselves in this new frame of reference by considering the human situation
from the beginning. Let us put aside all of our assumptions about the nature of human nature and
about everything else in so far as possible and stand back from the details of the human situation and
survey the human situation as if from a great height so that we can try to see the most salient general
features of the human situation.
From this panoramic perspective, whether we are looking at the human situation in terms of
our personal experience of human life, or in terms of objective scientific data, such as anthropological
data, psychological data, sociological data, historical data, etc., or both, I submit that there is one
most salient general fact about the human situation, one fact that stands out above all else, one fact
that is most remarkable. And, as it happens, this same fact literally cries out for our attention most
urgently. I am talking about the fact that the human situation is pervaded by and dominated by a
chronic condition of confusion and suffering. Simply put, the normal human situation is a state of
confusion and suffering.
In appraising this fact it is crucial to realize that the suffering that is characteristic of the
human situation is a special type of suffering that is unique to the human species. The uniquely
human type of suffering is not a function of deprivation in regard to some biological need, such as
hunger or thirst. All animals, including human beings, experience this biological type of suffering.
But the special human type of suffering is not a function of deprivation in regard to anything; it is
rather a function of confusion, the special human type of confusion.
So it is also crucial to realize that the confusion that is characteristic of the human situation is
a special type of confusion that is unique to the human species. While other animals do experience
confusion, their confusion is generally a momentary state1 and animal confusion is always a function
of a conflict precipitated by some real dilemma in their immediate situation. A typical example of
animal confusion is that of a deer crossing the road at night who becomes frozen in panic as to
whether to go ahead or to go back when he is suddenly dazzled by the headlights of an oncoming car.
And, of course, humans can experience this animal type of confusion in similar circumstances. But in
contrast, the special human type of confusion is not episodic; it is a more or less continuous state.
Also in contrast, the human type of confusion is not a function of conflict in relation to a real
dilemma that is present in the immediate situation. This is why the cause of the human type of confusion is obscure and mysterious: it is not present in the immediate situation. To make this point
explicit, the human type of confusion is distinct from the animal type of confusion because it is not a
1. There are a few exceptions to this generalization. For example, in scientific experiments psychologists have been able
to cause chronic states of confusion in rats, which they equate with the state of neurosis in human beings, by holding
them captive and structuring their living situations so that they are subject to persistent and irresolvable conflict. But
this is one of those exceptions that proves the rule, for the point I am making is that being a captive subject to persistent
and irresolvable conflict is exactly what causes the chronic state of confusion in human beings.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
17
Introduction
function of immediate conflict, but a function of mediated conflict. Or in other words, the human type
of confusion is distinct because it is not a function of some conflict in relation to the present situation,
but a function of conflict in relation to the represented situation. But we are getting ahead of the argument here.
Of course, we all have first hand familiarity with the human type of confusion and suffering,
and we will be exploring its depths throughout the course of this book. But just to make sure we have
the same thing in mind we will briefly describe it. On the level of mental processes it is manifest, of
course, as confusion, which is a type of error in which a person takes one thing as another thing. A
confusion is a mistake. So the systemic human confusion is a systemic tendency to mistake and misunderstand things and thus is a tendency to make erroneous judgements and to hold erroneous beliefs
about ourselves and human nature and nature in general. Hence, the various well known types of
erroneous beliefs that universally plague human kind - superstitions, stereotypes, myths, fantasies,
delusions, etc. On the emotional level this human species of confusion and suffering is manifest as a
persistent feeling of uncertainty, alienation, anxiety, frustration, disease (in the literal sense of disease), and dissatisfaction. Sometimes it bursts out into episodes of frozen panic or and maniacal rage.
And on the level of overt behavior this human species of suffering is manifest in chronic muscle tension, in inhibition and incompetence, in inappropriate and unsuccessful acts, in strange and pointless
acts of violence against self and others. In general human confusion is manifest in a persistent tendency to behave in ways that are contrary to our own best interests.
In regard to the question of the proof of the validity of the foregoing view of the human situation, or in other words, in regard to the question of the epistemological status of these supposed facts,
I would like to make the following points. In the first place, as I said above, I regard it as being perfectly obvious, if not technically self-evident, to every human being that these are facts. As I see it,
these are just plain ordinary everyday facts on a par with the fact that the sun comes up everyday, that
water is wet, and that fire is hot. It is a fact about human life that people are born, and people die. On
the same epistemological level, it is a fact that people are deeply and chronically confused, and it is a
fact that people suffer as a consequence of their confusion. We directly experience this confusion and
suffering. And our confusion and suffering is as much a part of everyday life as breathing. So in my
view, facts of this kind are so obvious that it is somewhat ridiculous to demand proof.
Nevertheless, there are people who would question this view of the human situation. Indeed,
there are people who would deny that this view of the human situation is true. Of course, if this view
of the human situation is true, it would follow that there would be people who would doubt and deny
that it is true, in spite of the fact that it is obviously true. Therefore the fact that there are many people
who deny the validity of these assertions is not evidence that these assertions are false, but rather is
evidence that they are true. Although, given that these facts are perfectly obvious to begin with, such
proof would be superfluous. So for those who realize that the normal human situation is a state of
confusion and suffering, the fact that there are others who deny that it is need not be of concern.
And for those who take the contrary view, those who deny or discount the fact that the human
situation is a state of confusion and suffering, I suggest two alternatives. One alternative would be for
such a person to put this book down and go away and live life for a while. Perhaps, if he is lucky, he
will get knocked around enough that he will come to realize that he is wrong. Then he might want to
come back and consider the line of reasoning that I am trying to develop here. The other alternative
would be to tentatively accept the assertion at issue as a hypothesis and to consider the line of argument that follows and to judge the validity of the hypothesis in accord with the fruit it bears in under-
18
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Establishing a General Frame of Reference
standing the human situation. The following line of argument is intended to satisfy the desire for
proof in this sense, as in the saying, “the proof is in the eating”.
Nevertheless, for the benefit of this latter category of reader I offer the following observations
in regard to proof. Speaking from my own personal perspective, one of the few things that I can testify to with absolute certainty is that my personal situation is pervaded by confusion and suffering;
Indeed at some stage in the course of my inquiry into this line of thought I came to realize that it is
my own personal confusion and suffering that motivated me to pursue this present line of inquiry.
And from what I can tell about the people who I deal with directly, family, friends, business associates, clerks in the supermarket, etc., their situations are also pervaded by confusion and suffering.
And according to what I can learn from other sources of evidence, some of which I will discuss in
detail below, there is an abundance of evidence that it is not just me, and not just those around me,
and not just Americans, and not just members of Western cultures, whose lives are pervaded by confusion and suffering, but that the situation of every human being across culture and throughout history is pervaded by confusion and suffering. Therefore, on the basis of the unanimity of the evidence
across such a wide range of sources, and especially on the basis of my own personal direct experience, I take it as not only the most salient fact about the human situation, not only the most demanding fact about the human situation, but also as among the most certain facts about the human situation
that the human situation is characteristically a state of confusion and suffering.
This is the line of reasoning has brought me to the conclusion that we should take this fact as
the first fact framing our conceptualization of the human situation, as the central reference point governing our inquiry into the nature of human nature. So the first fact framing the human situation is
this:
THE NORMAL HUMAN SITUATION IS A STATE OF CHRONIC CONFUSION AND SUFFERING
And given this fact as our central reference point, the questions that follow are these: “What causes
this chronic condition of confusion and suffering?”, “What is it confusion about?”, “How does it
work?”, “Why does it happen?”, and most important of all, “How can we clear up the confusion and
alleviate the suffering?”, “Or, is this unhappy state of confusion and suffering intrinsic to human
nature?” These are the questions that will be pursuing below.
Now that we have our basic point of reference and the questions that follow from it, we can
begin to search for answers. Of course we cannot expect at the beginning of this search for answers,
which I will characterize as an archeological1 search, to be in a position to see what goes on way
down deep in the roots of human confusion. We will have to dig down beneath the surface of our confusion layer by layer to uncover the underlying roots of human confusion. But before we can even
begin to dig, we must decide where to dig. So we must begin to address the questions posed by the
fact of human confusion by trying to locate the area of human life in which we might expect to find
the roots of human confusion.
The problem is that there are so many places we might look, and if we look in the wrong
place, we could dig forever and never find the answers. For example, we could look into the phases of
the moon for the roots of human confusion as the ancients did. (Hence the words “lunatic” and “Luci-
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
19
Introduction
fer”.) Of course there are many people who still are searching in outer space for the answers to the
human problem.
Or we could look into our biological nature. Perhaps there is a special confusion gene that
only human beings have. Or perhaps there is some as yet undiscovered gland in human beings that
secretes a special confusion hormone. Or perhaps there is some as yet undiscovered corner of the
human brain that is the locus of confusion. Or should we look into psychology? Perhaps if we understood more about how rats learn to run through a maze we could discover the cause of human confusion. Or should we look into anthropology? Perhaps if we understood how primitive people manage
their sexual relations and how they nurse their young we could discover the roots of human confusion. And so on and so on. The possible places to look are endless. So the problem is to decide where
to start digging.
I have spent, one might say “wasted”, a great deal of time wandering around looking in all
sorts of wrong places such as these for the roots of human confusion before I found the right place.
But, as I said at the beginning, there is nothing to be gained in retracing the specific line of reasoning
that I followed (even if it would be possible to pass off my erratic wandering as a “line of reasoning”). It would be better just to go immediately to the right place than to waste even more time here
retracing my wanderings in the wilderness of confusion. So instead of talking about the many different wrong places, let us turn our attention directly to the right place.
In accord with my own finding, which is corroborated by a multitude of evidence, as we will
see below, the right place to look for the roots of human confusion is in human language. This, then,
is what I am asserting is the second fact framing the human situation:
LANGUAGE IS THE SOURCE OF THE HUMAN TYPE OF SUFFERING.
Let me state explicitly that I am not saying simply that language causes human confusion. And I am
also not saying that the human type of confusion is limited to the realm of language, unless you take
language in the largest possible sense. What I do want to say is that language is the means by which
we cook our raw perceptions and transform them into civilized forms. Language is the institutionalized embodiment of human confusion. Language is the fabric of our confusion. Language is the city
of human confusion, sometimes known as Babel. Language is the very state of the distinctive human
type of confusion.
1. The word “archeology”, like all words, and like language itself, has many layers of meaning. The newest and most
superficial meaning of this word is “the study of old things.” It is used in this sense as the name of an academic discipline of study in which people literally dig down under the surface of the earth to discover remains of the past from
which they try to figure out what was going on in the past. But taking an older and deeper sense of “arche-” the word
“archeology” also means “the study of things of the highest rank.” And in a still deeper sense of “arche-” the word
means “the study of the beginning”. And just as “arche-” has several layers of meaning, so too does “-logy.” So taking
an older and deeper sense of “-logy” the word “archeology” means “old logic”, or “logic of the highest rank”, or “logic
of the beginning”. And taking an even older and deeper sense of “-logy” the word “archeology” means “old word”, or
“word of the highest rank”, or “the first word” or “the beginning of the word.” And if we take this latter sense of “logy”, where it means “word”, metonymically, “archeology” means “the beginning of language.” When I use the word
“archeology” here I mean it in all of these senses, but especially in the oldest and deepest sense.
20
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Establishing a General Frame of Reference
Therefore, if we want to uncover the underlying roots of the human type of confusion, which
is the cause of the human type of suffering, we must dig down into the multifarious layers of sedimented conventionality that comprise language. So the practical conclusion of this fact is that we
should focus our archeological exploration upon language.
As we turn our attention to language, we must acknowledge that, even with this narrowing of
our focus of attention to the relatively small realm of language, it is still a daunting task to try to get
down to the roots of confusion, for the realm of language is itself a vast universe of bewildering complexity. Language has baffled and confused the best experts - theologians, philosophers, logicians,
linguists, psychologists, biologists, mathematicians, physicists, etc. - for hundreds and thousands of
years. Even today with all of our modern methods and devices, our sophisticated mathematical tools
like calculus and statistics, electron microscopes, rocket ships, computers, etc., we do not in general
understand language much better than Plato or Moses did. Given that this is so, and I will discuss the
view of language taken by both Plato and Moses below (Chapter 3), how much more difficult would
it be for an ordinary human being to make sense of language.
The pivotal fact about language is that all of us, whether we are a sophisticated scientist or an
ordinary person, are normally inclined to avoid dealing with the confusion of language, precisely
because it is confusing. But this inclination to ignore the confusion of language is the crux of the
problem of trying to understand the roots of human confusion. This is the very point on which our
emotional compass consistently points in the wrong direction. So to determine the right direction we
must reverse the direction of our normal inclination, because in order to understand our confusion we
must focus our attention upon the headquarters of confusion, which is language.
In this regard, the fact that we find language difficult to understand is not incidental to the
dynamic of confusion. If, as I am claiming, language is the locus of human confusion, we should
expect that we would find language confusing. In the normal, conventional frame of reference the
fact that language is confusing is taken as sufficient grounds for ignoring language, so in the normal,
conventional frame of reference we ignore language as much as possible. And this normal tendency
to ignore language, the very locus of confusion, is the necessary foundation upon which confusion
depends. To put it the other way around, the one thing that confusion cannot stand against is the light
of awareness, because awareness leads to understanding, and understanding dissolves confusion. By
contrast with the normal frame of reference, in the new frame of reference I am trying to develop
here, where we have taken the desire to understand the confusion of the human situation as the highest priority, the fact that language is confusing implies that we should look at language precisely
because language is confusing.
So the way to dissolve confusion is to pay attention to it, to develop awareness and insight
about it, and in the end to understand it. We must realize that our confusion is not really chaotic and
incoherent. It is not a dangerous and alien phenomenon. Confusion is organized and structured and it
conveys a surreptitious message. This is so because confusion is the underside of language. Confusion is how language works. Thus confusion is organized and structured like language, because it is
language. Indeed, just as our nakedness underneath our clothes is really us, so too our confusion
underneath our language is really what we mean. Furthermore, it is not just that we want to understand our confusion, but our confusion, which is really our surreptitious original being from which we
have been alienated, also wants to be understood by us. This is why the understanding of our own
confusion is the only thing that can really satisfy our deepest desire.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
21
Introduction
And in order to understand our confusion, to understand how confusion works, to understand
how to function in the realm of confusion, we have to get into our confusion and become intimately
familiar with it. We cannot understand confusion from the outside any more than we can learn how to
swim or ride a bicycle by reading a physics book. For this reason, the unpleasantness of a new and
bewildering experience notwithstanding, if we want to understand human confusion, we have to jump
into the sea of confusion naked and experience it directly. But the fact of the matter is, under the surface of the conventional pretense that we understand who we are and where we are and what we are
doing, we are already deeply submerged in the chaotic swirl of human confusion, just as we are
already naked under our clothes. So in reality, confusion is not a new bewildering experience, but
rather an old, familiar, bewildering experience. Therefore, it is not necessary for us to get naked to the
experience of confusion, because we are already exposed to our own confusion. And it is not necessary for us to jump into the sea of confusion, because we are already in it up to our necks, or rather,
way over our heads.
So when we stand back and look at our personal situation from a panoramic perspective we
find ourselves in the human situation, a situation of chronic confusion and suffering, a situation
where our desire to understand the confusion and alleviate the suffering cannot be addressed by
choosing anything, much less by actually doing anything, like jumping into it (because we are already
in it) or getting out of it (because we do not know how to), or getting naked or putting clothes on, or
going somewhere else to find out what it means. So there is no choice and there is nothing to do. The
only way that we can hope to satisfy our desire is to understand our situation, the human situation.
And the path to understanding the human situation passes through language, the city of human confusion.
Lest we become too discouraged because we are deeply submerged in the confusion of language, a situation which has baffled and confounded many of the best and brightest scholars for hundreds of years, I would like to point out that we enjoy a significant advantage here because we are
pursuing a totally different line of inquiry in the context of this new and better frame of reference. For
the most part, prior investigations of the human situation in general and of language in particular have
framed their undertaking in the context of the commonly accepted frame of reference, which we
pointed out at the beginning has been systematically misleading when it comes to trying to understand the human situation. In other words, most efforts to understand language have been based upon
a set of assumptions about ontology and ontogeny and phylogeny and logic which are of questionable
validity. In fact, I will argue below that at least some of these commonly accepted assumptions are
conceptually downstream from language. From this latter point it follows that these assumptions are
confused as a function of the systematic confusion of language, and therefore an enterprise that is
framed by these premises is not only doomed to end up in confusion (in accord with the common saying, “garbage in, garbage out”), but such an enterprise begs the question.
For example a great deal of effort has been invested in the attempt to make sense of language
in terms of its biological foundations. Obviously, such an effort is framed and motivated by the
assumption that language has biological foundations. Unfortunately, no significant biological foundations have been found. We will return to discuss this issue in more detail below (See “The Original
Linguistic Insight: Language is Neither Organic or Physical” beginning on page 39), but I will point
out here that it is a matter of common knowledge that there are no organs of speech in the same sense
as there are organs of seeing and of walking. And in spite of the intense desire to find it, there is no
structure or subsystem of the brain that is dedicated to language. There is no language gene. There is
no language hormone. There is, in sum, no biological foundation of language. Further, as far as I am
22
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Establishing a General Frame of Reference
aware, this entire branch of research has contributed very little to our understanding of language. And
my estimation is corroborated by the fact that no university in the world, as far as I am aware,
requires even one course in biology as part of the curriculum in the study of linguistics. In practice
scholars of languages and linguistics rarely talk about biological matters, except of course for those
few who doggedly resist the evidence, or rather the lack of evidence. So those who hold this assumption have been frustrated and confused, and have had trouble making sense of the human situation,
and of language. I suggest that this is because their assumption that language has a biological foundation is wrong, and needless to say, we are not encumbered by this assumption.
Another example: A great deal of effort has been invested in trying to make sense of human
behavior and human thought and human language in terms of rational logic, or, to be more precise, in
terms of what is technically known as symbolic logic. The premise underlying this effort is that symbolic logic is logic, the one and only logic, and therefore it must be the logic that governs human
behavior, human thought, and human language. This premise has worked out fairly well in so far as it
has been limited to the study of reasoning in the abstract, as in highly self-conscious philosophical
discourse, in mathematical discourse, and scientific discourse. For example, symbolic logic is the
logic of propositional calculus, set theory, mathematics, the artificial languages of logical machines
e.g. algorithms, computers, etc. And it seems to have worked out fairly well as a foundation for the
theories of physics and chemistry, though I am not personally in a position to judge. But it is pretty
hard to hold on to this premise when it comes to human beings because human behavior and human
thought and human language simply do not obey the laws of symbolic logic. And it is perfectly obvious to even to the ordinary person that human beings do not in fact obey the laws of symbolic logic.
For this reason, the effort to make sense of the human situation in terms of symbolic logic has been
disappointing and perplexing. In a frame of reference based on the assumption that symbolic logic is
the one and only possible kind of logic, one must conclude that human beings and human language
are not logical. From this point of view, it appears that the human sphere is not just illogical, but perversely anti-logical. From this point of view there seems to be some mysterious “X” factor at work in
the human realm, which some suggest is emotion, that continuously subverts human thinking and
human language. Consequently those who have tried to make sense of human behavior and of language on the basis of this assumption about the nature of logic have been frustrated and confused, and
have not been particularly successful. I suggest that this is because their assumption about the nature
of logic is wrong, and once again, we are not encumbered by this assumption here.
So as we begin to focus our attention upon language let us bear in mind that we are doing so
from a position of advantage in that we are not encumbered by the confusing and impossible obligation to try to find something that is not there, such as a hypothetical language gene, or an idealized
rational system of thought. We are trying to find the roots of the concrete fact of confusion in the
realm of language, a phenomenon we can see being played out almost continuously before our very
eyes, and in our minds, and in our hearts. So we not only enjoy the advantage that we are trying to
understand something that is really there, but also we are trying to understand something which is
familiar and ubiquitous in our ordinary everyday lives, i.e. human confusion. And we enjoy the further advantage that we are doing so on the basis of our own direct experience as human beings rather
than on the basis of a theory or on the basis of an idealized notion about the way people ought to
think. So let us focus our attention upon language presupposing only that language is the locus of the
human type of confusion.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
23
Introduction
Now, when we bring our attention to bear on language we encounter a realm of phenomena
that is not just naturally complex, but insidiously confusing. Language is elusive and ephemeral and
perverse and perplexing. For example, consider the semantics of the word, the basic unit of language.
I am sure everyone has had this experience: when we try to figure out the meaning of a word, and we
look it up in the dictionary, we are led from one word to another to another until we come full circle
and end up back at the word we started with. In the end we are more confused about the meaning of
the word than when we began. Not only that but we find that the same word can mean things in many
different ways, such as referential meaning, connotative meaning, etymological meaning, metaphorical meaning, idiomatic meaning, colloquial meaning etc., etc. Further, we find that the same word can
mean totally different and seemingly unrelated things in different contexts. For example, “duck” can
be a noun that refers to a bird that quacks or a verb that means “to get down.” Further, the same word
can mean totally different things in different dialects or in different languages. For example, “bonnet”
is a kind of hat in American English but the hood of a car in British English. And “nine” in English
means “no” in German. So the farther we look into the meaning of words, the less we find, until in the
end we are forced to come to the conclusion that the meanings of words is elusive, chaotic, and confusing.
When we try to figure what a word actually consists of, an issue which belongs to the area of
phonology, an issue which we will discuss in detail below, we discover that a word does not have any
substance at all. In ordinary language we say, “We hear a word”, but strictly speaking we only hear
the sound that represents a word, and not the word itself. A word is prototypically represented in the
medium of sound, but it can also be represented in the medium of writing or hand gestures or flags or
Morse code, etc., but the word itself does not consist of any of these things. The relationship between
the stereotypical complex of sound that represents a word in a certain language and the word itself is
the same as that between, for example, the United States Senator of a state and the state itself. The
Senator of a state stands for that state in the realm of the federal government, but he is not the state.
So too a certain complex of sound stands for a certain word in the realm of some particular language,
but that sound is not the same thing as the word. The world of representation and the world of being
are entirely different worlds, and language belongs to the world of representation, not the world of
being.
Consequently, if we try to get a hold of a specific word by capturing its representation as for
example by recording the sound of its pronunciation, or grasping the hand that signals it, or by cutting
out the bit of paper on which it is written, we will not have captured the word itself. We will have
captured a bit of sound or a hand or a bit of paper, but not the word. And whereas in ordinary language we say, “I can erase that word”, in fact no such thing is possible: we can erase the sound or the
writing that represents a word, but we cannot erase the word itself. So it is impossible to get a hold of
a word in the same way we can get a hold of, for example, a duck: we can grab a duck, and then we
can watch it and play with it and teach it to distinguish between blue and red, and the we can cut it
open and see what makes it work. By contrast when we try to grab a word, we always end up holding
something else. And for good reason: A word exists only in the sense that it is represented, and it
must necessarily be represented by something else.
Putting the ontological problem aside for the time being, let us consider how language actually works as the tool which we use in conducting the ordinary business of everyday life - thinking,
appraising, judging, deciding, persuading, complementing, commanding, requesting, maneuvering,
manipulating, etc. - the area of language known in technical linguistic parlance as “pragmatics”. (See
“The Pragmatics of Language” beginning on page 153) Here too we find that language is not just
24
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Establishing a General Frame of Reference
complex, but is insidiously perverse. Language often seems to have a mind of its own: Not only does
language often fail to do what we send it off to do, much like our Senators, but it frequently does
something entirely different from what we want it to do, and it sometimes does exactly the opposite
of what we want it to do. As one comes to appreciate the depth and the breadth of the perversity of the
pragmatics of language, one begins to wonder: Is language is a tool that people use, or are people a
tool that language uses; Do we speak language, or does language speak us?
For example, Shakespeare has immortalized the Me-thinks-the lady-doth-protest-too-much
effect, whereby the more forcefully we try to deny something the more we end up persuading the
other to believe it is true. The inverse happens as well: the more forcefully we try to persuade the
other that something is true, the more we engender doubt. Similarly, as anyone who has raised children can attest, the more directly and the more forcefully we command obedience, the more likely we
are to induce disobedience and the more stubborn the disobedience will be. Similarly, the more we try
to explain a misunderstanding, the deeper the misunderstanding gets. This is best exemplified by the
well known impossibility of explaining a joke: the more you explain a joke, the less possibility for it
to be funny. Another way of saying the same thing: Brevity is the soul of wit.
Compliments are a notoriously volatile type of speech act: the slightest degree of excess
enthusiasm or inappropriateness can convert an intended compliment into an insult. For example, a
professor could compliment his student’s class presentation for having “good delivery and clarity of
organization”, but it would have the force of an insult for a student to praise his professor’s class presentation in the same way. A similar reversal of valence is implied in the familiar saying “damning
with faint praise.”
The contrary is also found: insult can have the force of compliment. That is the point of the
old saying, “the insults of fools is praise indeed.” In this same vein, in modern colloquial English,
especially among black adolescents, “You’re bad” means “You’re good”. And “You’re good,” is a
grievous insult. The inherent ambivalence of the force of a speech act is perfectly illustrated by, “You
dirty dog”, which can be used either as a compliment or an insult.
And it is possible for the speaker to intentionally exploit the ambivalence of the pragmatic
force of language by using a compliment as a way of covertly conveying an insult. For this reason it
is impossible in principle to determine for sure if what appears to be a compliment is really intended
to have the force of a compliment or the force of an insult. And conversely, it is always possible for
the addressee to engage in creative misunderstanding in order to discomfit the speaker. So on the face
of it, “You look healthy and happy today”, might look like a compliment. But it is impossible to be
certain whether the speaker of this sentence intends it to be a compliment or an insult. And even if the
speaker does intend it as a compliment, the addressee can take it as an insult by focusing upon the
word “today” such that it implies, “You normally look sickly and depressed, but by contrast today
you look healthy and happy.” Or, the addressee could take it as an insult in a different way by focusing upon “look” such that it implies, “You look healthy and happy today, but under the facade you
are really sickly and depressed.”
Thus upon consideration of the pragmatic level of language we find that the force of speech
acts tend to be ambivalent. That is, while we may be certain that a given speech act is intended to
have some sort of force or other, we cannot be certain as to the vector that force is intended to have,
nor can we be certain as to the vector it will be taken as having. So at the level of pragmatics too, language is seen to be elusive and perverse and confusing.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
25
Introduction
In these and myriad other ways it is a matter of more or less common knowledge that language is elusive, perverse, and confusing. And this derogatory evaluation of language is not a misleading impression as a function of superficial acquaintance: As one studies language more and more,
as one comes to have a deeper and broader knowledge of his own language, English in this case, as
one becomes familiar with a wider variety of different languages and language families, as one comes
to have a deeper technical knowledge of phonology, semantics, syntax, pragmatics, etc., one only
finds a greater depth and breadth and intricacy of the elusiveness, the perversity, and the confusion of
language. One finds that language is not just superficially confusing, it is confusing all the way across
and all the way down to the bottom. One cannot find anything at any level of any language that is not
confusing. And so at some point one must give up trying to find the boundary of the confusion in language and reverse one’s field of inquiry by positing the null hypothesis, which is this: Language is
intrinsically confusing. And one must try to make sense of language on the basis of this hypothesis.
So the question is how can we make sense of language as intrinsically confusing? Why is it
confusing? If it is intrinsically confusing, how is it that language can at least sometimes makes sense?
How does it work? And why?
The key to making sense of language and answering these questions is the following fact:
LANGUAGE IS DUPLICITOUS.
And so this is the key to understanding the human situation in general, because the duplicity of language is the root of the confusing nature of language, and thus it is the root of the chronic confusion
that is characteristic of the human situation, and thus it is the root of the chronic suffering that is characteristic of the human situation. So we will take this as the third fact framing the human situation
and we will focus upon this single point from here on. So the purpose of this book from here on will
be to explore the duplicity of language.
Let me make this key point perfectly clear. The point is not merely that language is sometimes
duplicitous, or that there are some parts of language that are duplicitous, or that it is possible for
someone to use language duplicitously. Rather, the point is that language is inherently duplicitous.
Language is duplicitous in the same sense as water is wet and fire is hot. Language is of a duplicitous
nature.
This, of course, implies that there are two kinds of nature - regular nature and duplicitous
nature. Or, in other words, natural nature and unnatural nature. Or, in yet other words, first nature and
second nature. As one might say, “Language is our second nature.” Or, as we do actually say,
“English is my mother tongue”, “mother tongue” being secondary in relation to my real tongue. So
the implication of “mother tongue” is that I am born a second time into the matrix of my second
nature, my language.
Thus language belongs to a different ontological category from such purely natural phenomena as water and fire and electricity and trees and ducks, and my tongue. Language belongs to a sec-
26
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Establishing a General Frame of Reference
ondary order of phenomena, or rather, epiphenomena. Language belongs to the same epiphenomenal
ontological order as images, echoes, and shadows.
To put it in other words, this secondary order of phenomena, this order of epiphenomena, this
order of images, echoes, and shadows is the realm of things that C. S. Peirce called “signs”, and about
which he developed a general theory. And following Peirce, I want to assert that language belongs to
the realm of signs. Further, I assert, also following Peirce, that all signs and all systems of signs are
duplicitous.1 Therefore, I assert, still following Peirce, that language is duplicitous.
To put it in yet other words, contrary to the prevailing conventional belief, which is stated thus
by Chomsky (1980, p. 226),
the study of language is a part of human biology,
I assert that language is not a biological thing, nor is language a physical thing, but rather
LANGUAGE IS A TRUTH THING.
This is implicit in the premise that language is duplicitous, for duplicity, being a species of falsity, is
a function of truth. Let me amplify this line of reasoning.
Everyone knows that language is normally embodied in and conveyed by means of physical
stuff, such as sound or marks on paper, but as we mentioned above, language does not consist of
physical stuff. A duck can only be embodied as a duck, but language is not like a duck. Language is
like money. An element of language or an element of money is essentially a contract, an agreement,
or a promise, the representation of which is ideally embodied in some physical medium, but which
need not necessarily be embodied at all. For example, it is possible to have a tacit communication,
just as it is possible to have a tacit contract. And contrary to conventional belief, the essential act by
which a government creates an element of money is not that of stamping out coins or printing notes,
but rather the essential act by which a government creates an element of money is one of fiat2,
whether explicit or implicit. Thus in the United States the Federal Reserve Bank creates money
implicitly by purchasing treasury instruments from certain banks and paying for them by a fiat. In
much the same way, the essential act by which an element of language comes into existence is by
implicit fiat, usually on the part of an individual. This is what it means to “coin a new expression.”
And so the value of an element of money or an element of language depends upon the power and the
authority and the veracity of the fiat.
Thus language is not governed by the play of physical forces and physical substances, but
rather it is governed by the play of truth and falsity. So, since the false is a function of the truth, language is a function of truth. Or to be precise, it is an inverse function of truth. To be even more pre-
1. Peirce does not use the word “duplicity” in his description of the sign, but he does posit the “cut” as the primitive predicate in the logic of the sign, and this cut engenders the duplicitous logic which governs the nature of the sign. See “The
Cut” beginning on page 77
2. The verb “fiat” was borrowed into English from Latin. It is the third person singular present subjunctive of fierº, meaning “let it be so.” So “to create by fiat” means “to create by saying ‘let it be so.’”
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
27
Introduction
cise, language is a function of multifarious iterations of pairwise inversions of truth. And these
pairwise inversions of truth are the duplicities which comprise language.
From this it follows that, just as the shape of physical space and the behavior of physical stuff
in physical space is governed by the force of gravity, so the shape of the linguistic space and the
behavior of linguistic stuff is governed by the force of truth. And just as the earth is the center of our
physical universe, at least in the practical sense, so truth is the center of language. And just as a tree
grows up and branches out from the earth counter to the force of gravity by means of the machinery
of biology, so too does language grow and branch out counter to the force of truth by means of the
machinery of duplicity.
Therefore, in order to understand how language works, and how it doesn’t work, one must
look at language as a creature of duplicity, not as a creature of biology or physics. In these terms the
purpose of this book is to establish the foundation for a theory of language based upon the fact that
language is not a biology thing, nor a physics thing, but a truth thing. And more specifically, the purpose of this book is to assert that language is duplicitous, to explain and illustrate the duplicity of language, to give evidence and argument to prove that language is duplicitous, to begin to explore the
implications of the fact that language is duplicitous, and to begin to develop a coherent conceptualization of language and the human situation on the basis of the realization that, contrary to conventional belief, language is duplicitous.
Language as the Quintessential Human Problem
Now let us consider the duplicity of language on a more general level. In order to appreciate
the scope and the significance of the fact that language is duplicitous, one must look at it from two
different perspectives at the same time. In the above examples we were looking at it from the technical point of view of the science of linguistics. We must also look at it from the non-technical point of
view of the ordinary speaker of language, the person who linguists refer to as the “linguistically naive
speaker”. This “naive speaker” is the idealized normal person who performs the same role in the
thinking of linguists as the idealized “rational person” in the thinking of philosophers, lawyers, and
economists. Let us then consider the duplicity of language as seen from the point of view of the ordinary naive speaker.
What I am claiming here is that as a function of the duplicitous nature of language, language is
deceptive, contradictory, confusing, captivating, misleading, and frustrating, not to mention dangerous. But from the perspective of the ordinary linguistically naive person, language does not appear to
be duplicitous, deceptive, confusing, etc. From the point of view of the ordinary person there is
clearly some mysterious source of deception, contradiction, confusion, etc. that bedevils the normal
human being, but it is not obvious that language is the root of this problem precisely because language is duplicitous. That is, because language is duplicitously duplicitous the normal naive speaker
of language does not realize that language is the locus of human confusion. Therefore, from the point
of view of the ordinary linguistically naive person, the duplicity of language is only perceived indirectly in its effect as a mysterious jumble of perplexing confusions, frustrations, and dissatisfactions.
So although the duplicity of language is the root of human confusion and suffering, the ordinary person does not perceive it as such. The ordinary naive speaker of language is entirely unaware
of the insidious influence of the duplicity of language. And that lack of awareness is the crux of his
28
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as the Quintessential Human Problem
role as a normal naive speaker and at the same time it is the crux of the problematicalness of language. And so our attention here must be directed precisely at the lack of awareness of the duplicity
of language as the root of the confusion and suffering that plagues the human situation. We must, in
sum, consider language to be essentially duplicitous in particular and to be essentially problematic in
general.
Of course, everything has the potential to be problematic. Even ordinary things, which are
usually harmless or irrelevant to our lives, such as rocks or trees or ducks, can be problematic, under
the right circumstances. Even the necessities of life, such as air and water, can be problematic, when
we do not have enough of them, or when we have too much of them, or when they are in the wrong
place. But the point I am trying to make here is that language, being duplicitous, is a different kind of
thing, and that as a consequence it is problematic in a different kind of way.
Language is different from ordinary things such as rocks or trees or ducks or air or water in
that those things are natural phenomena, whereas language is (1) not phenomena, and (2) not purely
natural. In regard to its phenomenal status (1), as I said above, language belongs to the realm of
epiphenomena, along with things like shadows and mirror images and echoes. Epiphenomena comprise a distinct secondary order of phenomena, with a distinct secondary nature. Epiphenomena are
like real phenomena in the sense that you can see or hear them, but they are unlike real phenomena in
the sense that you cannot grasp them or eat them or drink them or make a house out of them. That is,
to put it in perfectly general terms, epiphenomena do not satisfy. Water satisfies, food satisfies, truth
satisfies. But epiphenomena do not satisfy.
Epiphenomena have a special kind of parasitic being that is derivative of and totally dependent upon prior things, that is, real phenomena. Epiphenomena have no independent substance or
being of their own. So they look like real phenomena, but they are not real phenomena. And yet, they
are not nothing. They are something, and yet they are not something. This is the contradictory ontological nature which is characteristic of epiphenomena. And so epiphenomena have an epiphenomenal nature, in accord with which they are constrained by the necessities of the laws of phenomena, but
at the same time they arise and flourish in accord with the possibilities of the laws of epiphenomena.
So language is different from ordinary things in that it is epiphenomenal.
In regard to the naturalness of language (2), whereas some epiphenomena are purely natural,
such as shadows, and mirror images, and echoes, language is not purely natural. It is a mixture of natural and unnatural. It is crucial to note that the relation between the unnatural and the natural is one of
opposition, and especially that it is one of asymmetrical opposition as distinct from symmetrical
opposition.1 It is like the distinction between pure water and impure water: there is an absolute categorical distinction between pure water and impure water, and yet there are degrees of impurity. Pure
water is water and nothing else but water, whereas impure water is water and something else, and
there can be greater or lesser amounts of that something else. So there is absolutely pure water, but
there is no such thing as absolutely impure water. The same is true of naturalness: There is an absolute categorical distinction between things that are natural and things that are unnatural, and yet there
are degrees of unnaturalness. So whereas something can be absolutely natural, it is impossible for
anything to be absolutely unnatural.
So shadows, mirror images, and echoes are purely natural epiphenomena in that they are
entirely a function of the nature of light and sound. In other words, everything about them is predictable by the laws of physics. So it follows that all images are epiphenomenal, and that all mirror
images are natural epiphenomena, but not all images are natural epiphenomena. For example, the
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
29
Introduction
conventional image of a star - !- is not the natural image of a star, as you can see by looking at a star
in the sky at night. But it is not entirely unnatural either: it is a conventionalized representation of the
natural image of a star. It is a man-made likeness, not a natural likeness.
In this same sense, language consists of epiphenomena that are unnatural in that they are artificial, man-made epiphenomena. For example, the relation between the moon and the image of the
moon which I see reflected in the water is entirely a function of the natural laws of light, but the relation between the letter “m” in the word “moon” and the moon itself is a function of the arbitrary laws
of the English language. We for whom English is our native language feel that it is quite natural that
the word for moon should begin with the letter “m”, but this feeling of naturalness is erroneous for in
reality there is no natural relation between the letter “m” and the moon. This relation between the letter “m” and the moon is a relation of the special kind of second nature, the unnatural epiphenomenal
nature, the duplicitous nature, of which language consists. So an image of the moon in the water is a
natural representation of the moon, but the word “moon” is an unnatural representation of the moon.
Thus although language appears to us so-called native speakers to be natural phenomena, it is
really unnatural epiphenomena. In general terms, this is the sense in which language is duplicitous.
And in consequence of the duplicity of language, while trees and ducks, air and water, and other natural phenomena, are occasionally or incidentally problematic, language in its guise as natural phenomena is intrinsically problematic.
So the point I want to make here is that language is problematic, not as water is problematic or
as fire is problematic, but language is problematic as water is wet, as fire is hot. Therefore, as a practical matter, given the pragmatic axiom that we must relate to things in accord with their true nature
in order to be able to function satisfactorily in the world, it follows that just as we must relate to water
as being wet, and just as we must relate to fire as being hot, so too we must relate to language as being
problematic. And to do that we must understand how it is problematic, which is to say, we must
understand the duplicity of language.
Now, the idea that language is intrinsically problematic might seem to be in conflict with conventional wisdom, which considers language to be the opposite of a problem. Conventional wisdom
1. The same could be said of the distinction between phenomena and epiphenomena. Indeed, the same could be said
about anything in language because everything in language is a function of the absolutely fundamental distinction
between these two types of opposition. The opposition between these two types of opposition it is the very warp and
woof of the fabric of language. It might be helpful to provide some references. The recognition of the necessity for
making this distinction in the framework of modern linguistics can be traced back to the Prague Circle of Linguistics in
the first decades of this century. Its fullest elaboration was in Trubetzkoy’s Principles of Phonology, where he developed the theory of markedness as it applies to the phonology of language on the basis of this distinction, which he
termed “equipollent opposition” vs. “privative opposition.” Roman Jakobson was a member of the Prague Circle, was
a friend and close collaborator of Trubetzkoy, and actually edited and arranged for the publication of Trubetzkoy’s
Principles of Phonology posthumously. Jakobson collaborated in the development of Trubetzkoy’s thinking about this
distinction and all of Jakobson’s subsequent research and publication was dedicated to the exploration of the manifestations of this distinction throughout language. Jakobson eventually came to talk about this distinction in terms of the
relations of “similarity” vs. “contiguity.” Just to mention one more connection, Jakobson pointed out that Freud discovered this same distinction in the operation of unconscious mental processes, and that Freud called them (in English
translation) “condensation” vs. “displacement.” Lacan referred to these two “imaginary” vs. “symbolic.” And C. S.
Peirce called them “secondness” vs. “thirdness.” I prefer to use sterile logical terminology here in order to focus on the
logical crux of the difference. A symmetrical relation (equipollent, similarity, or condensation) is one in which F(a,b) =
F(b,a). An asymmetrical relation (privative, contiguity, or displacement) is one in which F(a,b) ≠ F(b,a). We will motivate this distinction in terms of the general theory of signs below in Chapter 2.
30
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as the Quintessential Human Problem
holds that language is essentially a means of communication. (See “Language as Means of Communication” beginning on page 163) It is the means by which we human beings are able to interact with
each other and our environment. Therefore it is commonly considered to be a special capability that
enables us to solve problems. Not only that, but language is also considered to be the instrument
which enables us human beings to develop knowledge, to gather knowledge, and to share knowledge,
so that we can understand, and thus control, and thus govern, and thus reap the bounty of the universe. It is the capability to use language that makes us human beings what we are. We think of language as the special human capability: As birds have the ability to fly in air, as fish have the ability to
swim in water, so human beings have the ability to talk in language. The essence of the common idea
of language is this: To speak language is to be human. So the common idea is that language is not just
a capability, but that language is the quintessential human capability.
But the idea that language is a capability is not in conflict with the idea that language is problematic. The fact is that every capability is problematic. For example, on the individual level, it was
only when we learned to stand up as infants that the problem of falling down arose. It was only when
we learned how to walk that the problems of getting lost or getting into dangerous places arose. It was
only when we gained the ability to manipulate objects with force that the problems of breakage and
injury arose. On the social level, it was only when we learned how to use nuclear weapons that the
problems of nuclear proliferation, of nuclear terrorism, and of the possibility of the total destruction
of life on earth arose. So in general every capability gives rise to its own dimension of problematicalness. And so it is with language.
However, in consequence of the fundamental role of language in human life together with the
duplicitous nature of language, the dimension of problematicalness to which the language capability
gives rise is far more complex and far deeper and far more troublesome than that of simple natural
capabilities such as the ability to walk. Indeed, the problematicalness of language underlies and pervades and exacerbates every other dimension of problematicalness which arises in human experience.
Therefore, while it is true that language is the quintessential human capability, language is also the
quintessential human problem.
One might be skeptical about this sweeping indictment of language, particularly when it is
thought to be inconsistent with conventional wisdom, which considers language to be a good thing,
not a problem, let alone the quintessential human problem. But the fact that we do not normally hear
much about the problematic dimension of language in the conventional dialogue is perfectly consistent with this assertion. The human dialogue, individually and collectively, is normally dominated by
language. That is exactly what “normal” means in this context, i.e., the normal human dialogue conforms to the norms of language. Language governs the normal discourse, because the normal discourse takes place in the medium of language. In other words, language is the universe of normal
discourse. And in order to be pragmatically viable language must represent itself as a good thing. In
other words, duplicity must represent itself as truth in order to function as duplicity. That is, duplicity
represented as duplicity cannot function as duplicity, so such an act would be pragmatically impossible. So there is a natural tendency in the normal universe of discourse to focus upon the favorable
side of language, and for this reason the problematic dimension of language does appear on the surface in the normal universe of discourse.
What is more, in conjunction with its positive effort to represent itself as a good thing, language censures and represses the dark side of language. This repression is what makes the problemat-
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
31
Introduction
ical side of language dark, for in reality the duplicity of language is perfectly obvious for all to see.
To cite a trivial example of the normative repression of truth, the norms of polite conversation
demand that, if you become aware of the fact that someone is indulging in a little self-serving duplicity in a normal conversation, you must not only refrain from pointing it out, but you must pretend that
you did not notice it, you must pretend to believe it, and you must try to carry on the conversation in
a cooperative manner as if it were true. In this way, and many others, the norms of language repress
truth and foster duplicity.
This dynamic is not coincidental. It is the repression of the awareness of the dark side of language, the repression of the awareness of its duplicity, and the repression of the awareness of its problematicalness, which constitutes the conceptual framework within which language exists, in so far as
it can be said to exist at all. In other words, if language is essentially duplicitous, then it can only
function in a dialogical context that is framed by ignorance of its duplicity. This is so because, in general, if one is aware of the duplicity of an act of duplicity, then that very awareness robs the act of its
duplicity, and consequently of its deceptiveness, of its power to lure, to confuse, to captivate, etc.
Likewise, awareness of the duplicity of language uncovers and robs language of its power to be problematical. Or, to put it the other way around, the naive willingness to be gulled into believing in the
duplicitous representations of language sustains the power of language to deceive, beguile, and captivate. Therefore, the awareness of and the understanding of the duplicity of language is the key to
unraveling the problematicalness of language.
The purpose of this book is to engender and foster the awareness of and the understanding of
the duplicity of language as a foundation for understanding language in particular and the human situation in general.
So in the light of these observations, the fundamental question is this: Is language a problem?
And, if so, in what way is language a problem? And, what are the practical consequences of the language problem? And how can we solve the language problem?
These are the questions we will be considering in this book, so by way of framing our discussion, we might as well begin by giving the answers.
1.
Is language is a problem? Yes. As I have suggested, language is the quintessential human problem.
This is not to say that language is the only problem, but it is the generic human problem, and it is a
very troublesome problem. Language is the problem which characteristically plagues all human
beings.
2.
In what way is language a problem? The problematicalness of language is a function of its duplicitous nature. But we must emphasize that duplicity, in and of itself, is not necessarily problematic.
We all play games, and all games are duplicitous. But games are harmless unless some naive person is taken in and absorbed so deeply in the pretense of the game that they loose track of reality
and think that the realm of the game is reality. The lure of frames of reference, however, is intrinsic. As explained by Irving Goffman in his Frame Analysis (p, 34):
Frame, however, organizes more than meaning; it also organizes involvement. During any spate of activity, participants will ordinary not only obtain a sense of what is going on but will also (in some degree) become spontaneously engrossed, caught up, enthralled.
32
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
A Discussion of Some of the Various Ideas of the Nature of Language
3.
So what is problematic is not the duplicity of language in itself, but the erroneous belief in the truth
of the duplicitous representations of language. What is problematic, in short, is the belief in the
pretense, in the false. So, as a practical matter, the fact is that we human beings are normally taken
in and engrossed and enthralled in the duplicitous frameworks of pretense of our own language.
Therefore, language is normally problematic for all normal human beings in that it is a system of
collective pretense in which we all are caught up, jointly and severally, as both the perpetrators and
the victims, of both ourselves and others.
What are the practical consequences of the problem of language? There are so many troublesome
consequences of the language problem, that it would be impossible to catalogue them all. And it is
not really necessary either, for we already know what they are, though we do not commonly recognize them as consequences of the language problem. For example, it is common knowledge that
human beings are chronically plagued by a feeling of alienation and anxiety, but it is not common
knowledge that this is a function of the language problem. And it is common knowledge that
human beings are plagued by an incomprehensible compulsion to do things that are contrary to
their own self interest, but it is not common knowledge that this is a function of the language problem. So instead of trying to describe the myriad branches of the practical problems which are a
function of the language problem, which we already know about anyway, let us cut to the heart of
the matter. The problem of language on the practical level, in the words of Jacques Lacan (Miller,
1993, p. 243), is this:
man is the subject that is captured and tortured by language1
4.
Through the conceptual machinery by which the logic of the self is constructed in the medium of
language, each of us is the subject that is captured and tortured by language. This is the problem of
language on the ordinary everyday practical personal level. And so on the practical level, this is the
problem we are addressing here.
How can we solve the language problem? The answer is simple to state, but hard to do: If language
is problematic because it is duplicitous, then the realization of the fact that language is duplicitous
is the solution to the problem. The realization of truth is the antidote to duplicity. If one is captured
and tortured by a fraud, then the key to breaking out of the fraud is the realization that it is a fraud.
A Discussion of Some of the Various Ideas of the Nature of Language
The Naive Idea: Language as a Means of Communication
The root of the language problem is that the conventional idea of the nature of language, to
which we commonly subscribe when we are infants as the basis of the social contract, is wrong. The
conventional idea is that language is a tool of communication which we can use to interact with other
people and which we can use to help us think, and analyze, and understand things. The essence of this
1. Many other observers of the human situation have said the same thing in different and usually less explicit and less
comprehensive ways. For example, I think most linguists would be surprised to know that Edward Sapir once wrote
that man is “victim of his phonologic system.” This quote is discussed below on page 331.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
33
Introduction
naive idea is that language is a good and useful thing. But if one subjects this idea to critical scrutiny,
one discovers that there is serious doubt as to whether we use language or language uses us.
The naive idea is that language is a tool, like a stick, for example, which we can use to extend
our reach so that we can get things we could not otherwise get. But this is a grave error, for language
is not a dead thing like a stick which passively lends itself to being used to satisfy our wishes. Language is a living thing, more like a poisonous snake than a stick, with the inclinations and proclivities
that are inherent to its nature. And the inclinations and proclivities of language, like those of a poisonous snake, are not subject to our desires. Indeed, the point I am trying to make here is that the inclinations and proclivities of language are systematically inimical to our desires. As I am trying to argue
here, the nature of language is duplicitous, therefore, in so far as our interests and desires are concerned it is beside the point whether language is a tool or not, and it is beside the point whether it can
be used for communication or not, and it is beside the point whether it is good or not. The essential
point about language that we must focus upon is that it is of a duplicitous nature, and for this reason it
is insidiously deceptive, and it is dangerous. This is the sense in which I am saying that language is
more like a poisonous snake than a stick.
Therefore language is doubly problematic: first because it is dangerous, and second because
we believe it to be benevolent. Indeed, language is triply problematic because we have already placed
our faith in language and we have already taken this serpent to our bosom thinking that it is the matrix
of our being. We have adopted our language as our mother tongue, through the images of which we
have conceived of our selves and our situations in the world.
As a consequence of our misplaced faith in language, we now find ourselves deeply entangled
in confusing and troublesome situations. So the beginning of the process of unraveling ourselves and
our situations is the realization that we have been taken in by our language, that we have misplaced
our faith, and that language is deceptive and dangerous.
Let us look in more depth at the process by which we come to be in the confusing and troublesome situation in which we find ourselves. One of the basic premises of the conventional world-view,
to which we commonly subscribe as the foundation of the conventional social contract, is the belief
that language is a beneficial and useful thing. This premise, like the other basic premises of our
world-view, is established at the very beginning of our lives when we are naive and helpless infants
governed more by impulse and appetite than by a realistic evaluation of the world. At that very early
formative stage in our lives, as one of our very first policy decisions, we adopt the premise that language is a good and useful thing, and we proceed to build our world-view on that premise.
As we proceed to build our world-view on the basis of this premise, we move on past this
basic policy decision to focus our attention on aspects of our world-view that are conceptually subsequent, and thus we come to regard that fundamental policy decision as finished business. As we proceed to construct more and more elaborate and sophisticated structures of belief upon the foundation
of this policy decision, the fact that we adopted this fundamental premise as a policy decision recedes
farther and farther away from the locus of our immediate interest. The belief that language is a beneficial and useful thing comes to be regarded as self-evident fact. The belief becomes the fixed foundation of our conception of our universe and of our conception of our selves. It becomes ossified. It gets
buried deeper and deeper under the progressively evolving structures of our world-view until by the
age of five or six when the general framework of our world-view has been completed, the foundation
34
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
A Discussion of Some of the Various Ideas of the Nature of Language
of our world-view has disappeared completely from sight, out of sight and out of mind, like a long
forgotten battle of ancient history. So by the time we get to be full fledged adults, the fact that our theory of language rests upon an infantile policy decision has faded so far into the background of our
minds, buried under generations of sedimented conventional structure, that we are entirely unaware
of it. And besides, as adults we don’t have time to fool around with obscure problems of ancient history because are too busy trying to deal with the myriad real practical problems of everyday life
which demand immediate attention.
The problem with this situation, as I have said, is that the primitive premise upon which it is
constructed is wrong. And, it is not just a problem of ancient history. It is true that the decision to
adopt this view of language is an ancient one, both phylogenetically and ontogenetically, but what
makes this ancient policy decision a contemporary problem of the greatest importance is the fact that
the policy that we adopted so long ago as naive infants is still being enacted to this day through our
language, through our world-view, through our thought processes, and thus through our overt behavior. The problem is that this ancient naive policy is still in effect. It still governs our thinking and our
behavior to this very day. And thus the immediate practical problems that we are so preoccupied with
in our everyday life as adults are largely a consequence of this ancient erroneous policy decision.
Indeed, this policy decision generates such a plethora of problems precisely because it is such
ancient and primitive error. It is an error of the first order. And thus it is a problem of the first order.
A More Sophisticated Scientific Idea: Language as a Means of Communication
In framing our inquiry into the nature of language, it is important to realize that the erroneous
belief that language is a tool of communication, or at any rate a good thing, is not only a premise of
the worldview of the ordinary linguistically naive person, but it is also the premise that predominates
among sophisticated scholars of language, such as linguists and anthropologists and psychologists
and computer scientists, etc. While one might have supposed that sophisticated scientists would have
a more adequate idea of the nature of language than the lay person, in the present context this should
not be surprising because sophisticated scholars begin life as naive infants just as everyone else does.
So as naive infants we who are going to become scholars adopt the same erroneous premise about the
nature of language and develop the same erroneous worldview as everyone else. Then when we have
grown up and begin to look at language as an object of objective study we have brought our unconscious erroneous belief about the nature of language with us. So we end up trying to make sense of
language and those things that are a function of language, such as worldview, identity, thinking, etc.,
from the same erroneous point of view as that which is taken by the ordinary linguistically naive
speaker.
Focusing on the discipline of linguistics, it is true that over the years the discipline of linguistics has managed to develop a point of view in regard to language that is somewhat more sophisticated than that of the ordinary speaker of language. It is in recognition of this fact that we linguists
thus distinguish our theoretical point of view from that of the ordinary person by calling the latter
“the linguistically naive speaker”, which implies that we are the linguistically sophisticated speakers.
But such gains as have been made in the discipline of linguistics by way of liberating it from the
primitive error we are considering here have been relatively superficial. Linguists, as well as anthropologists, psychologists, computer scientists, etc., with all of our digging into the mind, with all of
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
35
Introduction
our facts, and with all of our sophisticated conceptual machinery, have not generally realized that
there is a fundamental problem, and thus have not tried to dig down to the root of the problem, which
is the fundamental premise as to the nature of language. As a consequence, most of the various
sophisticated scholarly theories of language, of culture, of the human mind, and of the human situation in general are as confused and inadequate as the views of the ordinary man in the street, because
they share the same basic erroneous premise, which is that language is a good thing.
Furthermore, most of the sophisticated scholars of language not only assume that language is
a good thing, but they also assume, explicitly or implicitly, that language is essentially a tool of communication, just as the linguistically naive do. It is not easy to demonstrate that this is what most
scholars assume however because the basic assumptions about the nature and function of language
are usually taken for granted and are not often explicitly stated. For example, one would certainly
expect Levinson to explicitly state what he considers the basic function of language to be in his otherwise excellent review of the field of linguistic pragmatics, but he does not. He discusses many aspects
of the function and use of language in great detail, but only in regard to subsequent issues. I think one
can infer from his discussion that he assumes that the basic function of language is as a means of
communication. For example, he favorably mentions Jakobson’s analysis of the functions of language into the “six basic components of the communicational event” (p. 41). And he discusses the
distinction between “incidental transfer of information and communication proper” (p. 16). But he
nowhere says explicitly that he holds that the basic function of language is a means of communication.
One can occasionally find explicit statements however, and I will cite a couple of these here
by way of establishing a prima facia case for the claim that most sophisticated scholars of language
hold the view that language is a tool of communication pending a detailed discussion of this issue in
the section “Language as Means of Communication” beginning on page 163. There I will demonstrate that this claim is true by examining the views of three prominent scholars who hold this
premise and I will explain in detail why it is wrong. At this point, I will just cite a couple of prominent scholars who have taken this view.
One example is André Martinet, a well known and respected linguist, whose view I have chosen to cite in part because he is one of the few linguists who has explicitly spelled out his position in
regard to the basic function of language. He said that language is “an instrument or tool” and
The essential function of this instrument...is communication. Thus French is primarily the instrument which
enables French-speaking people to establish contact, to enter into relations with one another. (And it is also) an
aid to thought. (1964, p. 18, words in parentheses added)
Another example is George Lakoff, another well known and respected linguist, who said, more or less
incidentally, in the latter stages of the development of an argument,
The primary purposes of language are to frame and express thoughts and to communicate...(1987, p. 228)
So by way of framing this discussion, the point I am trying to make here is that the problem of
language does not revolve around the usual educated/uneducated dichotomy. It is not like a medical
problem or a legal problem or a computer problem or a plumbing problem, with respect to which
there is a division in society between laymen, who do not know much about it, and experts, who
make it their business to know all about it so that they can sell their knowledge to the laymen. The
problem of language is different: the experts are, generally speaking, in the same boat as regular people in two senses. First, generally speaking the experts hold the same erroneous premises and thus do
36
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
A Discussion of Some of the Various Ideas of the Nature of Language
not understand the problem any better than laymen. And second, the root of the problem is knowledge, or rather the lack of knowledge, but it is not new knowledge, nor is it some kind of obscure
technical knowledge: it is ordinary everyday knowledge that everyone already possesses. Therefore,
the language problem is not a knowledge problem, or a skill problem, or an experience problem: it is
an awareness problem. Thus the remedy is not more education, or more facts, or more sophisticated
ideas, or more complex conceptual machinery. Just the opposite. So as we approach this problem, we
must bear in mind that the problem we are considering is a primitive problem which is the consequence of an infantile error. Therefore we must try to shed our sophisticated world view so that we
can revisit the problem from the infantile point of view, because at bottom this is a problem of the
naiveté of sophistry. So we must try to think about this primitive problem in primitive terms.
The Most Sophisticated Idea: Language as an Organ
Taking a strictly physicalist point of view, Noam Chomsky, who is far and away the most
famous and the most influential contemporary American linguist, considers language to be entirely a
biological thing. Specifically, he considers language to be a special human organ which is
part of our shared biological endowment (p. 2, 1988).
He said,
We may usefully think of the language faculty, the number faculty, and others, as “mental organs,” analogous to
the heart or the visual system or the system of motor coordination and planning. (p. 39, 1980)
and again
...we may regard the language capacity virtually as we would a physical organ of the body... (p. 185, op cit.)
Chomsky evaluates this organic endowment thus.
The language faculty confers enormous advantages on a (sic) species that possesses it. (p. 38, 1988)
In considering Chomsky’s view, note that, although he does not use such simpleminded words
as “good” or “useful” in his characterization of language, it is obvious that he considers language to
be a good and useful thing. For example, he calls language an “endowment”, which is a gift, and if a
thing is a gift, then it must be a good thing. Likewise, “confer” implies that its object is a good thing.
Similarly, the “faculty” or “capacity” to do something is a good and useful thing. And an “enormous
advantage” is also a good thing. Thus it is clear that Chomsky holds the same basic premise as the
ordinary linguistically naive speaker, i.e., that language is a good and useful thing.
One might suppose that Chomsky’s idea of language as an organ is radically different from
the ordinary conventional idea of language, but actually it is the ordinary conventional idea of language. What makes the idea of language as an organ seem extraordinary is that we are not normally
aware of the fact that we think of language as an organ. That is to say, the idea is normally unconscious. But if you think about it for a moment, you will realize that we commonly speak of language
as if it involved a special organ of perception. When we say, “I see what you mean”, we are not referring to visual perception with the physical eyes, but to linguistic perception with the eye of the mind.
We are referring to vision in terms of the light of understanding as if it were a function of a special
linguistic organ of perception analogous to the eye. Likewise, we commonly speak of language as a
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
37
Introduction
special tool which enables man to manipulate his environment in ways that other animals cannot,
analogous to the special manual dexterity afforded to man by his opposable thumbs. Hence we say, “I
grasp the point.” Also, we commonly speak of language as comprising a special phenomenological
dimension to which man alone has access and in which man alone can function. The idea here is, as I
mentioned at the beginning, that as birds have the special ability to fly in air, and as fish have the special ability to swim in water, so man has the special ability to talk in language. Hence we say, “He
jumped abruptly from one topic to another”, “He went too fast for me to follow”, “He is talking in circles”, etc., as if one moved through the medium of language by talking as one moves through space
by walking. From such examples as these it is obvious that we commonly think of language as an
organic capability.
Returning to the more general idea that language is a good and useful thing, we should speak
to the fact that most people would probably deny that they hold this view. Perhaps they would say
that they don’t hold any particular view, or perhaps they would say that they consider language to be
a natural thing, like gravity or rain, a thing which is neither good nor bad. But once again, no matter
what we might consciously consider our view of language to be, there is good evidence that the common underlying view is that language is a good and useful thing. For example, we commonly consider knowledge to be a good thing, and we commonly consider knowledge to be a function of
language, so from that it follows that we must think of language as a good thing. Conventional wisdom holds that it is only when we name something, and thereby bring it into the realm of language,
that we can begin to understand it. That is, the belief is that naming is the beginning of understanding.
In the same vein, it is commonly believed that the more words you know, the more knowledge you
have, especially big words, and especially if you know how to use them, and especially if you know
how to spell them. Indeed, the belief that knowledge is a function of language is the basic premise of
the prevailing educational philosophy in our culture, and consequently it is the preeminent standard
by which intelligence is measured in our culture. The conventional belief is that language is the
embodiment of knowledge, education, and intelligence, and thus that language is a good and useful
thing.
The ultimate standard of what we think about something is how we actually relate to it. What
we do speaks louder than what we say. So whatever we might think we think about language, and
whatever we might say we think about language, whether we are ordinary linguistically naive people
or sophisticated scholars of language, it is what we do in relation to language that speaks with the
greatest authority. And the fact is that we talk almost constantly, if not aloud, if not with others, then
in subvocal discourse with ourselves. But, we feel especially compelled to talk when we are troubled
by a problem. We use language to try to solve our problems, or at least to alleviate the suffering. And
in our constant recourse to talk, particularly when driven by problems, we give evidence of our belief
in the efficacy of language as balm and solace, as therapy, as oracle, as fount of wisdom. It is as if
when we become adults, our mother tongue takes the place of our mother. And in that role language
takes on the benevolent mantle of motherly love.
Thus we see that, although no respectable scholar would describe his premises as to the nature
of language in such childish words as “good” and “useful”, the common theme underlying all of the
above mentioned views of language, whether ordinary or sophisticated, is that language is a good and
useful thing, like an eye, or a thumb, or a wing.
38
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
A Discussion of Some of the Various Ideas of the Nature of Language
Having asserted that the conventional belief that language is a good thing is in error, I do not
intend to take the opposite position, that language is a bad thing, though that would be nearer to the
truth, in the sense that language is a duplicitous thing, and a duplicitous thing is liable to lead to bad
ends, especially if you erroneously believe it is a good thing. It would be an error to take either side of
the question of whether language is good thing or a bad thing because that question rests upon a false
assumption, namely, that language is a thing. In other words, the conventional view of language,
whether naive or sophisticated, is most fundamentally wrong in that it incorrectly puts language in
the category of things. The point is that the fundamental error is not a matter of value, but a matter of
ontology.
And what is more, I will argue that the erroneous conventional conceptualization of language
is not incidental error, but rather that it is a systematic error, a systematic misconceptualization of language. And further, I will argue that this conventional misconceptualization is integral to the conceptual dynamic of language. I will argue that this systematic erroneous reification1 of referents is what
constitutes the ontological essence of language, and therefore that the realization of this fact is the
key to understanding the nature of language.
The Original Linguistic Insight: Language is Neither Organic or Physical
The seminal insight which originally engendered the science of linguistics and which sets the
science of linguistics apart from other sciences is the realization that language is not essentially a biological or a physical thing. Prior to this realization, proto-linguists such as the Neo-Grammarians and
philologists tried to make sense of the regularities that had been discovered in the history of language
in terms of the biology of the human body and the physics of the sound of speech. It was the realization that language is ontologically distinct from speech that freed linguistics from the fetters of the
conventional perspective and engendered the burst of intellectual evolution that took place in the
youth of the science of linguistics after the turn of the century. And then in the 1940’s and 1950’s as
the science of linguistics reached its adolescence, like all adolescents, it got caught in the ontological
dilemma that gave birth to it in the first place, namely, if it is not biological or physical, then what is
it? And lacking a way to resolve the dilemma in a coherent way, linguistics resolved the dilemma by
subordinating its original insight to the conventionally predominant scientific worldview which held
that everything is physics.
I am suggesting that we go back to the original insight which gave rise of the science of linguistics in the first place as described by, for example, Edward Sapir, who was one of the founding
fathers of linguistics. He argued in the 1930's, on the basis of the relatively limited knowledge that
was available to him in those days, that there is no language organ. He observed that, in the sense in
which the eye is an organ for seeing, and the thumb is an organ for grabbing, and the foot is an organ
for walking, there is no organ for talking. The following is the beginning of Sapir’s classic Language.
1. “Reification” means “regarding or treating (an abstraction) as if it had concrete or material existence”. Note first that
the counterfactual conditional “as if” together with the subjunctive “had” tells us that reification is a mental process
which hypothecates an imaginary world or frame of reference in which something that is actually false can be taken as
if it were true. Note second that the word was borrowed from Latin, the main root being res “thing”, thus the semantic
equivalent in English would be “thing-ification” or “making something into a thing”, which of course implies that it is
only a thing in that hypothetical world.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
39
Introduction
Speech is so familiar a feature of daily life that we rarely pause to define it. It seems as natural to man as walking,
and only less so than breathing. Yet it needs but a moment’s reflection to convince us that this naturalness of
speech is but an illusory feeling....To put it concisely, walking is an inherent, biological function of man....Not so
language.
And in another place:
Language is thus not a simple biological function even as regards the simple matter of sound production. (“Language” in Selected Writings, p. 8, henceforth referred to as “SW”)
This same realization came independently to Ferdinand de Saussure, another of the patriarchs
of the science of linguistics:
In setting up the science of language within the overall study of speech, I have also outlined the whole of linguistics. All other elements of speech - those that constitute speaking - freely subordinate themselves to the first science, and it is by virtue of this subordination that the parts of linguistics find their natural place.
Consider, for example, the production of sounds necessary for speaking. The vocal organs are as external to language as are the electrical devices used in transmitting the Morse code to the code itself; and phonation, i.e., the
execution of sound-images, in no way affects the system itself. (Saussure, 1959, p. 17-18)
Saussure’s geometric imagery here is explicit: the vocal organs are external to language. And he recapitulates:
The study of speech is then twofold: its basic part - having as its object language, which is purely social and independent of the individual - is exclusively psychological1; its secondary part - which has as its object the individual side of speech, i.e. speaking, including phonation - is psychophysical. (p. 18)
Although this original view might be considered by some to be antiquated, and although I am
not an expert in human biology, as far as I am aware, the language organ which is hypothecated by
Noam Chomsky still has not been found to this day. Not only that, but as far as I am aware no coherent relation whatever has been found between biological structure and language, whether in particular
detail or in general. In regard to detail, for example, I am not aware that anyone has found a brain cell
or a gene that corresponds to a word or a phoneme or a grammatical rule, or any other language
entity. And in general, I am not aware that anyone has found any general systematic relation, such as
for example, between the size of man's brain and his language capability.
It is common knowledge that man has a larger brain (as a percentage of body weight) than
most other animals (except the porpoise), but there is no evidence that man's superior linguistic ability is a function of his larger brain. In addition to the lack of corroborating evidence, there are numerous facts which argue against the belief in the biological foundation of language. For example the
following are among the facts of common knowledge which militate against the belief that language
is essentially an organic phenomenon.
1. In regard to the idea that language is “psychological” see “On the Psychological Reality of the Phoneme” beginning on
page 314.
40
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
A Discussion of Some of the Various Ideas of the Nature of Language
1.
It is a well known fact that the porpoise has at least as large a brain as man, and yet the porpoise
does not speak language1.
2.
There is at least one chimpanzee, who has a much smaller brain than man, who has nevertheless
learned to speak fairly sophisticated English in sign language.
There have been numerous examples of humans who have experienced massive loss of brain tissue
without manifesting corresponding losses in language ability.
3.
It is legitimate to wonder, in this case, why the higher animals do not speak language like humans? Or
complimentarily, it is legitimate to wonder why, particularly if language is such a problem for them,
humans do speak language? Though it is highly speculative at this stage in the development of our
understanding of the duplicitous nature of language, I offer what I consider to be a reasonable explanation below. But whether we can explain why animals do not speak language or why people do, the
fact remains that there is no evidence that language is an organ, nor even that it is governed by biological factors, except in the most general sense that in order to talk people have to be alive and
breathing and not to have suffered too much brain damage.
In so far as out thinking is governed by the facts of biology then, there is no support for the
belief that there is a language organ. However, we must address the seemingly contradictory linguistic fact that we do talk about “speech organs” and we do say, for example, “the tongue is an organ of
speech.” One might conclude from such expressions that the tongue really is an organ of speech but
that would be an error, for such expressions are figurative, that is, duplicitous, and thus the tongue is
not really an organ of speech. But to confuse the issue further, the fact is that the tongue is an organ
and it does play a role in the production of speech. So in our language we find the tongue involved in
the typical duplicitous paradox: it is an organ of speech and it is not.
Sapir recognized that this figurative usage is a confusing paradox, and in one place (SW p.8)
he suggested that we should sort the paradox out by distinguishing between a primary level of organic
function and a secondary level of linguistic function. This is, of course, the logic of duplicity, so a
theory of language that is framed by the premise that language is duplicitous would automatically
explain this particular paradox in exactly this way. So the idea is that the use of the tongue in speech
is not the biological function which governs the biological characteristics of the tongue, but rather is
a secondary function which is superimposed upon the prior biological function.
The same kind of secondary function can be observed in other realms of interaction. For
example, the tongue can be used in various ways in sexual interaction, but that does not make the
tongue a sexual organ. This would be another secondary function, not the inherent biological function. Indeed, the finger and the nose and the foot, as Freud pointed out, can also be used as sexual
organs, but that does not make them sexual organs in the biological sense. Thus it would be as erroneous to conceive of the tongue as a speech organ as it would to conceive of the foot as a sex organ.
1. When we speak of “porpoise language”, “bee language”, etc., we must bear in mind that this is just a figurative use of
the word “language”, and we must take care not to confuse a figure of speech with the real thing. We will explain
below exactly how it is that animal systems of communication are categorically different from language. It should also
be noted that the word “language” itself is figurative, having derived from the Latin word “lingua” meaning “tongue”,
and many animals do not even have tongues, such as the bee, and most of those animals that do have a tongue, such as
the porpoise, do not use their tongues as communicative organs, so such expressions as “bee language” are doubly figurative.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
41
Introduction
If we were to consider the tongue to be a speech organ, then for the sake of consistency we
would have to go to the absurd lengths of considering the lungs and the throat and the nose and the
lips and the teeth to be speech organs too. And in view of the fact that mute people use their hands
and fingers and arms in language, we would also have to consider the hands and arms and fingers to
be speech organs. The absurdity of this line of reasoning can be avoided and the plain facts can be
accounted for, as Sapir suggested, by recognizing that the use of the tongue as a speech organ is an
extrinsic, secondary function superimposed upon its prior, inherent, biological function. And he
spells this out fully and explicitly in the introductory section of his book Language (p. 8)
I have just referred to the “organs of speech”, and it would seem at first blush that this is tantamount to an admission that speech itself is an instinctive, biologically predetermined activity. We must not be misled by the mere
term. There are, properly speaking, no organs of speech; there are only organs that are incidentally useful in the
production of speech sounds. The lungs, the larynx, the palate, the nose, the tongue, the teeth, and the lips, are all
so utilized, but they are no more to be thought of as primary organs of speech than are the fingers to be considered as essentially organs of piano-playing or the knees as organs of prayer.
In regard to the question of the biological foundation of language then, we will take Sapir’s
view which is that there is no such thing as a language organ, organs of speech, etc., except in the
metaphorical or secondary senses mentioned above. We will take the view that there is no biological
foundation in human beings, such as superior brain power, that specifically enables the language
capacity in human beings, and that in general language is not essentially an organic, or even a physical, function. Language is not essentially a transaction in the physical realm. It is not like eating, for
example, because it does not involve the actual consumption of anything. Language is a transaction in
the epiphenomenal realm of signs, which have an indirect bearing on the consummation of one’s
aspirations as a function of one’s ability to interpret them correctly and to use them skillfully. Thus
language is in the realm of things like menus, and, although a menu is about food, we do not want to
make the mistake of confusing the menu with food. In our view, to take language to be essentially a
biological or physical phenomenon is the same error as taking the menu to be food. This is not, of
course, to be interpreted to mean that we are claiming that there is no relation between biology or
physics and language, any more than we would claim that there is no relation between food and
menus. There is a definite relationship, but it is not a biological or physical one. The relationship
between language and concrete reality is more a function of truth than a function of physics or biology.
In fairness to Chomsky it should be pointed out that there are several indications in his characterization of language as an organ which suggest that he did not really intend to say that language is a
biological organ in the same sense as the eye or the foot is a biological organ. Consider this quote,
which I repeat here for convenience.
We may usefully think of the language faculty, the number faculty, and others, as “mental organs,” analogous to
the heart or the visual system or the system of motor coordination and planning.
First, note that he spoke of language as one of the “mental organs”, where the modifier “mental”
implies, by opposition, that language is not a physical organ like an eye or a foot. Second, he put the
expression “mental organs” in quotation marks, which means that he did not intend the expression to
be taken in the ordinary sense, which implies that he thinks of language as an organ in some extraordinary sense, i.e., that it is different from ordinary organs like eyes and feet.
42
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
A Discussion of Some of the Various Ideas of the Nature of Language
In another of the above cited quotes he said, “we may regard the language capacity virtually as
we would a physical organ of the body”, which means that we may regard the language capacity as a
“virtual organ.” And, a virtual organ is not really an organ at all.
Note that the idea of language as a virtual organ has exactly the same sort of figurativeness, or
secondariness, which we saw in the idea of the tongue as a speech organ, in the word “language”, and
in the expression “porpoise language”, etc. Indeed one seems to encounter this same virtuality, this
same secondary fictiveness, this same parasitic secondariness, everywhere in language. For example,
in ordinary English usage the word “symbolic” is virtually synonymous with “virtual” in the sense
that when we say, “That is merely symbolic”, we mean that it is not real. Similarly, when we say,
“That is just a semantic problem”, we mean that it is not really a problem. Even, “That is a language
problem”, means that it is a trivial problem. When one comes to be aware of how pervasive this secondariness, this virtuality, of language is, one is lead to the hypothesis that language is entirely virtual. The realization of the pervasiveness of the virtuality of language thus led me to explore the
hypothesis that language is entirely virtual, and I came to the conclusion that it is because I find this
virtuality everywhere I look in language, and I can find nothing but virtuality.
In the course of this exploration of the virtuality of language, I was also trying to find a word
which concisely captures the essence of the peculiar ontology of virtuality. That is, although language
does not exist in the same sense as an eye or a thumb, we cannot simply say that language does not
exist, for in some sense it does exist. We use language all the time, and sometimes it does what we
want it to do. In other words, to some extent language is predictable in the pragmatic sense that it
works. Further, linguists have discovered many other senses in which language is predictable. So we
must find some concept that will permit us to make sense of the paradoxical fact that language does
not exist, and yet at the same time it has some coherent relationship with what does exist. We have
been saying that language has virtual existence, which is accurate, but the word “virtual” does not fit
the bill. We need a word which could function as the basic conceptual framework for a theory of language which would be capable of making sense of the virtuality, the deceptiveness, and the parasitic
secondariness of language. In the course of my exploration of this line of thought I eventually arrived
at the word “duplicity”, which, as we will see as the discussion unfolds, is not just appropriate for this
purpose, but is so exactly appropriate on so many levels that it is uncanny. (See “An Analysis of the
Duplicity of the Word “Duplicity”” beginning on page 222) It is as if the collective unconscious of
language had evolved the word “duplicity” layer upon layer over thousands of years specifically for
the purpose of serving as the seminal concept in a theory of language as a virtual thing.
Armed with this fundamental concept of duplicity, let us consider the idea of language as a
duplicitous thing. Of course, everyone is aware of the fact that language is sometimes used duplicitously, but the common view is that language, which is assumed to be an organ-like thing, is not itself
duplicitous. The common view is that the duplicity of language is only incidental to language, occurring as a function of the speaker's use of language to deceive, and that duplicity is not a an intrinsic
property of language. In other words, the common view is that if there is some duplicity in language,
it is a function of the speaker, not a function of language. We think people are duplicitous, but language is not itself duplicitous. We think of language as a neutral thing, an innocent thing, like a stick:
If someone hits us with a stick, we do not blame the stick, but the person wielding the stick. It is in
conflict with this common view that I am asserting that language is duplicitous, not incidentally, not
occasionally, but always, necessarily, intrinsically. I am asserting that language is duplicitous, just as
water is wet, because that is its nature.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
43
Introduction
However, this should not be taken to imply that I intend to exonerate the speaker from culpability in the duplicity of language; rather I am asserting that language is the creature of man's duplicity. Language is the conventional institutionalization of man’s duplicity.
The dynamic that is in play in the relationship between man and language is this. A simple,
straightforward, naked falsehood is so obviously false that it cannot be sustained as a credible fiction,
so man has devised this vast and intricate web of conventionally institutionalized duplicities, which
we call language, as a complex fabric of deceptions in which he can clothe his fantasies, wishes,
desires, hopes, pretenses, etc., in such a way as to display them in an elaborate facade of credible
verisimilitude. In other words, language is a device which enables man to display his fantasies,
wishes, desires, hopes, pretenses, etc., as veritable things in veritable reality, or, in other words, as
virtual things in virtual reality. Moreover, the insidious deceptiveness of this fabric of duplicity, in
conjunction with its mind boggling complexity, constitutes a defensive bulwark which obfuscates,
deflects, and diffuses the penetrating glare of truth, and thereby contributes to the ability of the whole
fraud to sustain credibility. And finally, in order to be accepted as cooperative members of society,
we all are obliged to conspire together to pretend that we believe the representations of language (like
the Emperors’ new clothes), so as to invest the whole fraud with the authority of collective credibility
and conventional legitimacy, which is not as good as the self-evident authority of truth, but it is
enough to sustain the legitimacy of the fraud, if we are willing to believe in it.
This is the sense in which I am asserting that language is a creature of man's duplicity. And at
the same time man is a victim of his own creature. Man is captured by the duplicity of language. So
man is both the perpetrator and the victim of his own duplicity. (Man is both of the fish pictured Figure 2 below.)
On the Naturalness of Duplicity
Lest the claim that language is duplicitous be taken as a condemnation of language, which
would follow from the naive conventional belief that duplicity is intrinsically a bad thing, I hasten to
assert to the contrary that duplicity is not intrinsically a bad thing. It makes no more sense to consider
duplicity to be bad than it does to consider water, or fire, or gravity, to be bad, because duplicity is a
natural phenomenon, like water, or fire, or gravity. Duplicity is a dimension of life in which living
organisms at all levels of evolutionary complexity interact, from man down to monkeys, to dogs, to
reptiles, to insects, all the way down the evolutionary scale to plants, even bacteria, even viruses. Of
course, there are different levels of evolutionary complexity in the realm of duplicity, which we will
discuss in due course, just as there are different evolutionary levels in biology. But there are also
basic samenesses underlying the different kinds of duplicity, just as there are basic samenesses in
biology underlying the different genera and species. Thus we can speak meaningfully in general
terms about the realm of duplicity, just as we speak in general terms about the realm of biology, without thereby precluding the possibility of different types of duplicity.
Given that we can speak generically about duplicity, in regard to the question of whether
duplicity is intrinsically bad, consider the group of fish known as Lophiiformes, commonly known as
angler fish.1 Let us consider the species Phrynelox scaber, pictured in Figure 2 (from Wickler, p.
127). This fish gets food by duplicitously luring his prey to the vicinity of his mouth with a fake
worm, which he has managed to grow attached to a fishing-pole-like appendage protruding from his
44
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
On the Naturalness of Duplicity
FIGURE 2.
The Angler Fish Phrynelox scaber
first dorsal fin-ray. When Phrynelox scaber persuades some gullible little fish to believe that his
worm-like appendage is actually a worm by displaying it prominently and twitching it seductively in
a worm-like manner, and when that little fish comes closer in order to gobble up what he thinks is a
worm, he himself is quickly gobbled up by the angler fish, who thereby reveals the fraud and inverts
the situation, changing the role which the little fish thought he was playing in the drama of life from
that of predator to that of prey, no doubt to his great surprise, and chagrin.
Now, with this example of natural duplicity before us, consider the question: Is the duplicity
of Phrynelox scaber good or bad? I think there would be two conflicting opinions: The angler fish
would consider his duplicity to be good, even delicious; the prey fish, however, would consider the
duplicity of Phrynelox scaber to be bad.
In other words, as this example makes clear, duplicity is not pragmatically bad. And it is not
morally bad either. Duplicity is bad only from the point of view of the victim of duplicity. So to paraphrase Tallyrand, one of the most successful diplomats in history, i.e. one of the most successful
human practitioners of duplicity in history, duplicity is not bad in the sense of a crime, but duplicity is
bad in the sense of a blunder. So what is at issue in duplicity is not badness, but gullibility, or stupidity. It is stupid to take a duplicitous representation at face value.
1. It should be noted that many biologically unrelated species manipulate worm-like or other dummy baits so as to
“exploit the appetite of their prey in order to satisfy their own” as Wickler (p. 129) put it. According to Wickler, these
include not only various unrelated species of fish, but also frogs and turtles.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
45
Introduction
Further, not only is duplicity not intrinsically bad, but the example of Phrynelox scaber makes
it clear that there is a sense in which duplicity is good. The angler fish uses duplicity to get food, just
as other animals use speed or physical power. In this sense duplicity is a means of manipulating one’s
environment and exploiting it for one's benefit. It is an instrument of power, as are speed and physical
force, but it is even more effective than those physical means of power because they are merely tactical, whereas duplicity is strategic, and strategy dominates tactics. Thus duplicity is good in that
duplicity is the essence of strategy. (See “Strategy” beginning on page 83)
Further, duplicity can also be a good thing in that it is the essence of play, and humor, and
jokes. And it is also the essence of drama. Thus in so far as play and laughter are good and in so far as
dramatic entertainment is good, duplicity is good.
In summary, in keeping with the nature of duplicity, there are two conflicting views of duplicity corresponding to the two roles of the participants in a duplicitous interaction - that of the victim,
and that of the perpetrator. And it is clear from both points of view that it is important to understand
what is going on in a duplicitous interaction. Therefore, it is important for us to realize that language
is duplicitous and to try to understand how the duplicity of language works. Let me explicitly spell
out the motive as seen from these two points of view.
From the point of view of the victim, the failure to realize that language is duplicitous is a fundamental strategic blunder, a blunder which destines us to perpetual suffering as the victims of the
duplicity of language, and, tragically, as the perpetrators of our own victimage.
From the point of view of the perpetrator, the ability to play freely and competently in the
medium of duplicity affords great advantage not only in regard to such primitive matters as gaining
the satisfaction that comes from eating, but also in regard to the matter of the satisfaction that flows
from being competent in interacting with one’s environment, the sort of joy that one feels vicariously
in the flight of birds, in the play of squirrels, which is the joy of life.
What Kind of Thing Are We Doing Here?
Let us draw back once again from this particular line of reasoning and take a general point of
view so that we can focus on another facet of the duplicitous situation of language. I would like to
point out that it is very important to be aware of the fact that the world of duplicity is radically different from what we think of as the normal world. It is akin to the difference between the land and the
sea. It is a different medium, a different kind of space, with different laws, inhabited by different
kinds of objects. So one must be prepared to think and move and interact in different ways. One must
be willing to give up old ways and learn new ways. Just because a bicycle is a convenient vehicle on
land, does not mean it will be convenient in the sea. On the contrary, what is useful on land can be an
actual impediment in the sea. So too, when we enter into the realm of duplicity, we will have to abandon some of our familiar and convenient assumptions and modes of thought, not just because they do
not work there, but because they will impede our understanding.
When we enter into the realm of duplicity, we are dealing with a kind of phenomena that is
totally different from what we are used to dealing with, and we are playing a sort of game that is
totally different from the games that we are used to playing. It is not just that the game of duplicity is
different from the normal games with which we are familiar, as football is different from chess, and
46
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
What Kind of Thing Are We Doing Here?
chess is different from mathematics, and mathematics is different from physics. The game of duplicity is a totally different kind of game. In fact, it is not a game. But the game of duplicity is not just different from normal games because it is not a game; it is different from games because the spirit of a
game is one of cooperation in conformity to some rules or standards or norms, whereas the spirit of
duplicity is the antithesis of cooperation and conformity. Duplicity is antithetical in relation to rules
and standards and norms, the very things which constitute the framework of a game. Duplicity plays
with the rules and standards and norms of games, and duplicity is always in play. In other words,
duplicity is always other in relation to some prior reference point, such as a rule or standard, so you
can never pin it down. It is always a moving target. We always just miss it, because wherever we try
to grasp it, is precisely where it isn’t.
For example, a duplicitous phenomena is duplicitous because it is not a phenomena, and yet at
the same time it is a phenomena: Something is there, but it is not what it seems to be. And a duplicitous game is duplicitous because it is not a game, and yet at the same time it is a game: some game is
being played, but it is not the game that appears to be being played. A duplicitous apple is duplicitous
because it is not a real apple, but it is not nothing: there is something there, but it is something other
than an apple.
This sounds crazy, of course. And it is. It is precisely the logic of craziness. But that is the
point I am trying to make: if we are going to make sense of duplicity we have to put aside our normal
presuppositions and get into the crazy kind of thinking that goes on in the realm of duplicity and try to
make sense of it in its own terms. It would be a mistake to conduct our inquiry in the realm of duplicity as if we were dealing with physical phenomena. When we go into the realm of duplicity we have
to modify our assumptions and our methodology in accord with the nature of the realm of duplicity, if
we are to make sense of it, and if we are to function adequately in that realm.
So, although duplicity does not play a game, it is play. Duplicity is the fundamental logic of
play. Duplicity is the dualistic framework of pretense that constitutes the context of playful interaction. So the realm of duplicity includes the play of games, but it is not limited to the play of a game,
or to the play in a game. The kind of play that takes place in the framework of a game is a tame,
domesticated, civilized, citified form of play. The play of a game is an inhibited species of play
because it is limited by the rules of the game. Beyond such civilized play, duplicity also includes
wild, unconditioned, totally free play. Therefore, duplicity cannot be characterized or grasped in
terms of the logic of games, or in terms of game theory.
On the contrary, rules are grist for the mill, for duplicity plays with the rules of games, on the
rules of games, outside the rules of games. Likewise in relation to the rules of language and society,
i.e., conventions, duplicity plays with conventions, it plays on conventions, it plays outside of conventions. Likewise, in relation to any kind of beliefs, or expectations, or hopes, or wishes. In general,
duplicity can take any prior standard, or boundary, or fixed point of reference as the basis of play.
And, underlying all of these various kinds of standards, at bottom duplicity is a play on the ultimate
standard, which is truth. So duplicity is the play of possibility against the background of necessity. It
is the play of what is not in the context of what is. Thus, in sum, duplicity plays with truth.
Given this, it is evident that in trying to understand the duplicity of language we are not trying
to figure out how to play any of the familiar games better. Nor are we trying to figure out how to play
a new game. Nor are we trying to understand duplicity in the context of game theory. On the contrary,
because duplicity is the framework of games, in order to understand how games work, we must first
understand how duplicity works. And then we can try to understand how the duplicity of play evolves
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
47
Introduction
into the framework of a game. So we must begin by trying to understand duplicity in order to understand games, not the reverse.
Also we are not trying to develop a new theory. We are not trying to find new facts, or to
gather information. We do not need any new data. We are not trying to invent or create something
new. We are not trying to learn anything new. We are not trying to discover anything new. As I said
above, we are trying to dis-cover things that we already know. We are like archeologists of the mind,
digging down layer by layer into the wealth of duplicitous knowledge that we already have, but
which we do not know that we have, because it is buried layer by layer beneath the surface of our
conscious awareness, buried under a vast heap of generations of accumulated layers of conventionally sedimented duplicity, which we call language.
So, contrary to the normal kind of inquiry, our attention here is not aimed in the direction of
things that we do not know, but in the direction of things that we do know, but which we do not know
that we know. Contrary to the normal idea, we are not trying to progress, but to regress. We are trying
to go back to the beginning of the structuration of our thought, so that we can discover and correct the
primitive error that is buried there. What we are trying to do here is to realize the truth of the duplicity
of our own language and of our own minds.
And in order to keep from becoming disoriented as we enter into this tangled web of duplicity,
we must bear in mind that when we realize something in the realm of duplicity, technically speaking,
nothing at all has happened in reality. To be sure, the event of becoming aware of something might
have consequences in reality, but the dawning of the awareness of something in itself does not change
anything in reality. For example, if there was a snake under my chair, and if I was not aware of it, and
if then I became aware of it, I would certainly do something as a consequence of my awareness, but
nothing in reality would have changed by my becoming aware of the snake. The snake would have
been there just the same whether I was aware of it or not. So technically speaking, when we delve into
the duplicity of language, into the duplicity of our own minds, we are not doing anything in reality.
What we hope to do - to bring about the realization of the truth of the duplicity of language - takes
place entirely in the realm of duplicity. If we are successful, if we do realize the truth, it is not the
truth that will have changed, but our awareness, or rather limitations which we have imposed upon
our awareness that will have changed. In short, it is not truth that will have changed, but duplicity.
And if something that does not exist changes, nothing will have changed in reality.
It is crucial to bear this in mind, because the realization of this fact compels us to suspend a
very fundamental belief that is much cherished in our modern society, namely, the belief that everything in the universe is governed by physical law. We are used to trying to make sense of things in
terms of the laws of physics, chemistry, biology, etc. But while these laws may be inviolable in the
physical realm, they have only an indirect force in the realm of duplicity. Indeed, as we pointed out
above, in that the laws of physics, chemistry, and biology are fixed standards, they become grist for
the mill of duplicity. Duplicity purposely plays upon the laws of physics, chemistry, and biology, perverting and flaunting them. For example, there are many different kinds of play which toy with the
law of gravity, usually in ways that are controlled and limited in such a way as to prevent the injury
and death that are often the consequence of falling. This sort of play includes jumping into the water,
sky diving, bungee jumping, jumping on a trampoline, carnival rides, etc. The motive for all of these
activities is the pleasurable feeling that is derived from the defiance of the law of gravity. Thus such
behavior cannot possibly be explained as a function of the laws of the physical realm, for it is an
inverse function of those laws. So too, nothing in the realm of duplicity can be explained as a function
48
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
What Kind of Thing Are We Doing Here?
of physical laws, because everything that is duplicitous in relation to the laws of physics is an inverse
function of the laws of physics.
Thus as we enter into the realm of duplicity, we must put aside the presuppositions derived
from the physical realm, and we must proceed with an open mind to explore the realm of duplicity, to
try understand the kind of phenomena which we encounter there without prejudice, and to try to discover the laws which govern the realm of duplicity.
Let us approach the question of what we are doing here from another direction. There is a wise
saying which observes that the basic difficulty in solving a problem is not so much finding the right
answer, but finding the right question. While this is true as far as it goes, it does not go quite far
enough, because there is an even more basic difficulty in solving a problem. The first requisite in
solving a problem is that you must realize that there is a problem.
It is at this most basic level, at the level of realization, that we must begin this study of the
problem of the duplicity of language, because people commonly do not even realize that there is a
generic human problem. And the basic reason people do not commonly realize that there is a generic
human problem is because they assume that the world is governed entirely by physical laws, but since
this human problem is not a physical problem, it cannot be apprehended as a physical problem. It
does not show up as a coherent object on the radar screen of those whose world-view is bounded by
the assumption that every problem is a physical problem. Further, if people do not realize that there is
a generic human problem, how much less do people realize that it is a problem of language? And
then, how much less do people realize that the problem with language is that it is duplicitous?
Thus we must begin to address the problem of the duplicity of language first by trying to
broaden our field of vision so that we can focus upon the fact that there is a generic human problem,
then we can move on to the realization of the fact that the problem is one of language, then we come
to the crux of the problem which is the error of not realizing that language is duplicitous.
Further, there is another sense in which the nature of the problem necessitates beginning at the
level of realization: the problem of duplicity is essentially a problem of realization. That is, duplicity
is problematic only in so far as one does not realize that it is duplicity. If one realizes that something
is duplicitous, then it ceases to be problematic. Indeed, if one realizes that something is duplicitous,
there is in principle the possibility of inverting the situation and of turning that very duplicity to one's
advantage at the expense of the prospective perpetrator.
Thus the essential character of the problem of duplicity, which should determine the way we
approach the problem, is not that duplicity is intrinsically problematic, but that duplicity is problematic as a consequence of our own limited awareness. Therefore, the study of duplicity, at least in the
beginning, takes place entirely at the level of our own personal realization. So what we are doing here
is trying to realize the truth about duplicity, particularly the duplicity of language.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
49
Introduction
Is This Science?
In our culture the scientific method is considered to be the only legitimate way to investigate
and verify our beliefs. Therefore, if an investigation is considered to be unscientific, then it is considered to be dubious.
There are some aspects of this present enterprise which would probably be considered by
some to be inconsistent with the scientific method, which raises the question of whether what we are
doing here is scientific, or not, and thus whether it is legitimate, or not. In order to forestall such
doubt, I will briefly address the question.
Does this study violate some of the commonly held assumptions about the nature of scientific
inquiry? Yes it does. Does that mean this investigation is not scientific? No, it does not. My view is
that this present investigation is scientific, but because the realm of duplicity has heretofore been
excluded from the realm of scientific inquiry, when we broaden our scientific perspective to include
duplicitous phenomena, it will necessitate some changes in some of the commonly held assumptions
about the nature of scientific inquiry.
It would be premature for us to try to work out the implications of this study for our conceptualization of the scientific method in detail. Nevertheless, because the appearance of scientific legitimacy is so important in the prevailing intellectual milieu, if this study appears to be unscientific, it
might not even be permitted to pass through outer gates of the city, let alone being granted a fair hearing before the scientific tribunal. Therefore, I think it would be expedient to discuss four issues which
I think might raise some scientific eyebrows.
Logic
The first aspect of the present discussion which I think might be seen as scientifically dubious
is the uncompromising illogicalness of the whole realm of duplicity. There is indeed something dubious here, but my contention is that what should be considered scientifically dubious is not the illogicalness of duplicity, but the traditional assumptions about logic. The illogicalness of duplicity should
not cause science to turn away from the realm of duplicity, but rather it should cause science to reconsider its assumptions about logic.
In the traditional scientific world-view, logic has always been considered to be outside of the
purview of the scientific method. The prevailing assumption has been, and still is, that logic is not
subject to empirical testing. And this is the prevailing scientific position in spite of the fact that the
most fundamental dictum of the scientific method, the very bedrock of scientific thinking, is that all
assumptions should be subject to empirical test.
In this regard, the scientific community looks upon logic in the same way today as the Pope
looked upon the planets and the stars in Galileo’s day. The Pope considered the planets and stars to be
part of the fixed framework of the universe which God put in place before the beginning of our world
and he though that it would be disrespectful for us lowly human beings to subject God’s creation to
our grubby empirical tests. And today the scientific community considers logic to be the fixed framework of thought which God put in place before we lowly human beings began to think and that logic
is the immutable and unquestionable a priori laws of thought.
50
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Is This Science?
Further, the traditional scientific point of view has not only assumed this mystical theory of
holy logic, it has assumed that nature itself is logical in accord with this holy logic, and it has
assumed that scientific reasoning must be logical in accord with this holy logic, and it has assumed
that scientific laws must be logical in accord with this holy logic. Thus the traditional scientific
assumptions about logic have the status of unquestionable articles of faith. And consequently, these
assumptions have not only been untested empirically, but they are considered to be untestable empirically. Therefore, in my view, if we are going to take the scientific point of view, then it is these articles of faith about logic that ought to be considered to be scientifically dubious.
It is my contention that we must reframe our thinking about logic in the context of the fact that
language and logic are deeply related, if indeed there is such a thing as logic apart from language.
Logic, which basically meant “to speak” in ancient Greek, from which it was borrowed into English,
was then and is now considered to be the laws of reasoning. But since reasoning is done in language,
it would seem reasonable to assume that the laws of logic must be part of the laws of language. As
there are laws of phonology, and laws of syntax, and laws of semantics, and laws of pragmatics, so
there are also laws of logic. In fact the ancient Greeks did think logic was an integral aspect of language, which is why they called it “logic”, and which is why they studied logic as a component of
rhetoric. This is also my view.
And it follows from this view that, if language is duplicitous, then logic must be duplicitous
also. This in turn implies, in keeping with the above conceptualization of the logic of duplicity, that
there must be two levels of logic. I suggest that these two levels of logic correspond to a distinction
that has frequently been observed in regard to logic. Freud, for example, considered it necessary to
distinguish two kinds of logic, which he called “primary and secondary process thinking”, so called
because he considered the former to be conceptually primary and the latter to be secondary, which is
in accord with our conceptualization of the ordering relation between the two layers of duplicity.
Korzybski independently made a very similar distinction between what he called “non-Aristotelian
and Aristotelian logic”. And many other scholars in various fields of inquiry have arrived at the conclusion that there are two kinds of logic. We will offer a principled framework for this distinction and
a fuller discussion of the duplicitous character of logic below.
I would like to mention another line of reasoning which should lead science to question its
assumptions about logic. Consider this question: If logic is the system of inviolable laws of thought,
then why does thought not obey those laws? Rocks invariably obey the law of gravity, why do
thoughts not invariably obey the laws of logic? Why do our thoughts so persistently stray from the
laws of logic? Why do we have to struggle, seemingly against the natural flow of thought, to obey
this supposedly inviolable law? What kind of law is this law that not only has no intrinsic force, but
which seems on the contrary to go against the natural flow of thought? It is certainly not law of the
same order as the law of gravity, the sort of law which we could not possibly disobey.
It is common knowledge that there are in general two kinds of law. There is the kind of law
which says, “You cannot walk on the grass”, and then there is the kind of law which says, “You cannot walk on the water.” It seems obvious to me that logic, as science has traditionally assumed logic
to be, is the former kind of law, as distinct from the law of gravity, which is the latter kind of law. In
this regard the laws of logic would seem to be of the same order as the other laws of language, such as
the syntactic law that all sentences in English must have a subject (to which there are innumerable
violations, such as “fat chance”), and the phonological law that no word can begin with the consonant
cluster “pt” (to which there are also numerous violations, such as the way people actually pronounce
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
51
Introduction
“potato” in ordinary casual speech, which is commonly “ptato”) or “kn” (“Can he...?”, which is commonly pronounced “Kne...?”). However, one must not conclude from such violations that there is no
law, but rather if one understands what is going on in detail, it becomes clear that there are two levels,
two types, of law.
Finally, I would like to point out that it is not just our thoughts that are illogical, but it was logically proven by Russell and Whitehead in Principia Mathematica (1910-1913) that logic itself is
fundamentally self contradictory. That is, that logic itself is illogical. Bertrand Russell came up with a
makeshift way of working around the problem, called the theory of types, which avoids contradiction
by distinguishing between logical types of phenomena e.g. category vs. member of the category, use
vs. mention, etc., and prohibiting propositions which mix sentences from one level with sentences
from the other level. Notice that the concept of duplicity, as we saw it applied to the example above,
does exactly the same thing as Russell’s theory of types. Thus whereas Russell's theory of types provides a means for avoiding the problem, it is an ad hoc solution, and thus it does not explain the problem. But if one considers logic to be an integral aspect of language, and if one assumes that language
is duplicitous, then the paradox at the root of logic that was discovered by Russell and Whitehead can
be explained as just another manifestation of the duplicity of language.
While these remarks unfortunately are too brief to fully explain this very important issue, we
have to do first things first: before we can sort out the implications of the duplicity of language in the
realm of logic, we must establish a basic understanding of the duplicity of language. The basic point I
want to make here is that when the scientific point of view broadens to encompass the duplicity of
language it is going to lead to some radical changes in the deepest levels of our traditional scientific
conceptualization of logic. In particular, this broader point of view will enable us to bring logic from
the mystic realm of holy apriorism into the realm of empirical science, just as the fathers of the scientific point of view brought the planets and the stars down from the mystic realm of supralunar perfection to the same empirical ground on which we lowly human beings stand.
Mental/Physical Dualism
The second issue that might raise scientific eyebrows is this. I said above that physical laws do
not govern the realm of duplicity and that there are other laws which do govern the realm of duplicity.
Further, I used the word “mind” to refer to the realm of duplicity. No doubt such comments will be
taken as evidence that I am assuming that there is a realm of mental phenomena apart from the realm
of physical phenomena, in accord with the conventional mind/body distinction. If I did hold this
assumption, it would raise the question of scientific legitimacy because it is in conflict with the main
stream of scientific thought, which holds that there is no mental realm of phenomena because there is
no physical evidence of a mental realm of phenomena.
The first point I want to make in reply is that I do not make this assumption and I do not subscribe to the conventional mind/body distinction. My position is that there is a realm of duplicity, but
things that are in the realm of duplicity do not exist. For example, the worm with which the angler
fish lures his prey exists, in so far as it can be said to exist at all, only as an erroneous conceptualization in the mind of the victim. The worm is a figment of the imagination of the victim. Of course, the
victim is lured into conjuring up the image of a worm in his mind’s eye by the angler fish's skillful
52
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Is This Science?
manipulation of his worm-like appendage. But in the end the question will be decided by who eats
who. In this example, there was no worm. Only an image of a worm.
Does the fact that the duplicitous worm is a figment of the imagination mean that there are no
laws governing the realm of duplicity? No it does not. It is perfectly obvious that there are laws governing this realm because the duplicitous worm does have a predictable effect on the real physical
behavior of the prey-fish. And moreover, the angler fish knows what effect it will have. And so do
we. And the angler fish makes his real physical living in the real physical world by exploiting the predictability of the effect of this duplicitous worm in the real physical world. In other words, the angler
fish uses a duplicitous worm to get his real food, and it works. This is the ultimate pragmatic proof: It
satisfies.
This means that the predictability of the effect of the duplicitous worm is not a function of
physical laws. This means in turn that the behavior of fish, and other living things, as distinct from
non-living things like rocks, is not entirely a function of physical laws. It means that there is a duplicitous realm of phenomena apart from the physical realm, and that there is another system of laws
apart from the system of physical laws. There are no doubt systematic relations between these two
systems of law, but one cannot begin to explore that relationship until one has at least a general
understanding of the duplicitous system of law, which is what we are doing here.
This brings us to the second point I want to make in regard to the issue of the mind/body distinction, which is that “mind” and “body” are words. As such they are elements of language, and thus
they are creatures of the duplicity of language. Now, the conventional worldview holds that both
mental and physical phenomena are real, and the scientific world view distinguishes itself from the
conventional world-view by insisting that only physical phenomena are real. In the present context
the question arises as to whether the whole issue that arises as a consequence of the distinction
between mind and body is not itself a function of the duplicity of language. That is, the scientific
world-view agrees with the ordinary world view in assuming that there is a distinction between the
mind and the body, but distinguishes itself by taking the position that the mind is not real. That is not
the same, as we will see in the next section, as taking the position that there is no such distinction.
This latter position is the one to which we are led by the present argument. But in any case, it would
be begging the question to preclude the possibility that the whole issue is a misleading duplicity. In
other words, before we can make sense of the mind/body distinction, we must understand the duplicity of language.
The Boundary of Nature
The third source of possible scientific doubt about the line of reasoning I am pursuing here is
closely related to both of the foregoing problems. The scientific world-view, as I pointed out above,
assumes that there is a distinction between mind and body. It might seem that, since the scientific
worldview hold that there is nothing real in the category of mind, that the assumption of the distinction is pointless. But it is not pointless in the overall strategy of traditional scientific reasoning,
because maintaining this distinction serves the illicit function of permitting the scientific worldview
to preserve its traditional prejudices about the nature of nature, and about the relationship of man to
nature, and about the nature of language, and about the relationship of man to other animals, by using
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
53
Introduction
the category of mind as kind of waste basket to which it can discard any inconvenient or recalcitrant
facts.
E. A. Burtt, the philosopher of science, speaking in The Metaphysical Foundations of Modern
Science about those who held the Newtonian point of view, which is perhaps outdated in some
respects, but which I think nevertheless accurately reflects the unconscious world-view which most
scientists bring with them to the discipline of science even today, observes the following.
mind was for them a convenient receptacle for the refuse, the chips, and whittlings of science, rather than a possible object of scientific knowledge. (p. 320)
By contrast,
The really important world outside was a world hard, cold, colorless, silent, and dead; a world of quantity, a
world of mathematically computable motions in mechanical regularity. (p. 239)
Thus in the common scientific world-view there is mind on one side, the inside, and there is the
“really important world outside.” In the common scientific world-view the outside world is considered to be important because it is considered to be the real world, the physical world, the world of real
power and substance, as opposed to the mental world, which is ephemeral, fleeting, hence unimportant. In this view, the real world is coherent and predictable. It is the mathematical, logical, lawful,
harmonious realm of nature, as opposed to the mental world which is the illogical, chaotic, incoherent, deviant realm of mind. Thus from the traditional scientific point of view, if there is an illusion, or
a logical inconsistency, or an anomalous fact, it is assumed that it must belong in the waste basket,
the realm of mind, because nature is logical, coherent, systematic. Anything that does not conform to
what is assumed to be the nature of nature is thus not considered to be natural. Nature is natural, so
whatever is unnatural must belong to mind.
Further, it is assumed in the common scientific point of view that the realm of the natural is
the same as the realm of the physical. In other words, the natural is physical and the physical is natural. Thus whatever is not natural is not physical and whatever is not physical is not natural.
And notice further that in this view the boundary between the realm of mind and the realm of
physical nature is not drawn between living and non-living things, but between human beings and
other animals. Human beings are in one category while animals are in the same category as rocks and
water. In fact the boundary is drawn in the middle of human beings, because man is partly a physical
being and partly a mental being, but animals are, like rocks and water, considered to be wholly physical. Correspondingly, animals are considered to belong wholly to the realm of the natural, but man is
only partly natural, the other part being mental, i.e., unnatural.
Of course this is a stereotypical view of the assumptions of science, which is to say that many
scientists disagree with it in one way or another, but such disagreement notwithstanding, it is the consensus view of the scientific community. It is the unconscious view which scientists bring with them
from their childhood to the enterprise of science. It is the world view that they imbibe with their
mother's milk, the world-view which is embodied in their mother tongue. It is the worldview that is a
function of language. It is the conventional point of view.
One of the areas of scientific inquiry from which considerable disagreement with the scientific stereotype is emerging is ethology. And one of the key issues is the question of whether animals
can lie or not. Since the conventional scientific establishment assumes that animals are in the same
category as rocks, it must also assume that animals cannot lie any more than rocks can lie. So if ani-
54
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Is This Science?
mals can lie, then the fundamental categorial boundaries of the conventional scientific world view
have to be reorganized. So the premise that animals cannot lie is a key premise of the prevailing scientific world-view.
And it is perfectly obvious that the facts are in conflict with this premise. Animals do lie, and
for anyone who cares to consider the issue there is an abundance of evidence. We talked about how
the angler fish uses deception earlier in this chapter. And the angler fish is not alone. The whole fabric of life, the whole biosystem is a communicative system, which is to say a system of signs, and as
we will explain in Chapter 2, all signs are duplicitous. But aside from this technical claim, the duplicity of animals is a matter of common knowledge. Everyone knows that the animal kingdom is rife
with camouflage and mimicry, which are forms of lying. Everyone knows that birds sometimes pretend to be injured in order to lead potential predators away from their nests. But not everyone appreciates the complexity and sophistication of animal duplicity, nor does everyone appreciate the fact
that there is even duplicity in the plant kingdom. So to get an idea of the depth and richness of nonhuman natural duplicity, one ought to consult an expert on the subject such as Wolfgang Wickler’s
classic Mimicry in Plants and Animals. And for a recent survey of the duplicity of higher animals,
especially non-human primates, see How Monkeys See The World (Cheney and Seyfarth, 1900) especially Chapter 7, “Deception”.
So it is only possible to maintain the belief that animals, not to mention plants, cannot lie by
ignoring the mountain of evidence to the contrary. And if animals do lie, then it is not possible to
maintain the prevailing assumptions about the boundary of nature in relation to the categories of mind
vs. matter and man vs. animals.
Thus the fact that the present discussion violates some of the traditional scientific metaphysical assumptions in regard to these categories does not imply that the present study is unscientific, but
that those traditional assumptions must be revisited and revised to accommodate the fact that animals,
indeed all living beings, interact duplicitously.
Empirical Evidence
The fourth issue which I think is likely to raise some question in regard to the scientific legitimacy of what we are doing here has to do with the bottom line of the scientific method, which is
empirical evidence. This issue divides into two questions? First, given that what we are doing here is
trying to realize the truth about the duplicity of our own minds, then the question is this: Can such
realization be considered to be valid empirical evidence? And second, is there any way the normal
kind of objective scientific evidence can be brought to bear on the argument being developed here?
In replying to these questions let us reframe them by considering the implicit assumptions
about subjectivity and objectivity which underlie them and which beg them.
The common scientific point of view assumes that the objective point of view, as opposed to
the subjective point of view, is the only legitimate scientific perspective. This relates to the present
argument in that from this point of view the experience of realization is considered to be subjective
experience, and therefore scientifically illegitimate, whereas the normal kind of evidence is considered to be objective, and therefore scientifically legitimate.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
55
Introduction
I reply once again by pointing out that “subject” and “object” are words, and as such they are
creatures of the duplicity of language. Moreover, these words refer to elements of sentential syntax.
Thus they are not merely creatures of language which refer to things that are not in language, but they
are creatures of language which refer to creatures of language. The concepts “subject” and “object”
are not themselves objective phenomenal “things” that can be found by looking through microscopes
or telescopes, but are among the ephemeral category of epiphenomenal things in the realm of duplicity. Therefore the conceptual framework of the subjective/objective opposition in terms of which science has traditionally framed its point of view in relation to the world is conceptually down stream
from language. Therefore, to assume the traditional scientific point of view in trying to understand
the duplicity of language is begging the question. The question of what the subjective and objective
points of view are and how they are related to each other and how they are related to the world is a
question that can only be answered in terms of the duplicity of language, not the reverse.
Given this reframing of the issue, let me respond to the two questions raised above. First, in
regard to the question of the validity of subjective evidence, when one looks at the issue of what
counts as empirical evidence from the point of view of the duplicity of language it becomes clear that
there is a whole vast realm of experiential phenomena which has traditionally been excommunicated
without a proper hearing by the scientific establishment because of the conventional prejudice against
the subjective point of view. As I just pointed out, we cannot intelligently discuss this issue until we
have developed a fuller understanding of the duplicity of language, which will permit us in turn to
understand how the grammar of subject and object relate to the world. However we can mention a
couple of facts which might help to clarify the basic parameters of the issue in the meantime.
First, we should realize that in terms of the experiential facts of the universe as I see them
from my point of view, there is always a correlation between the subjective position and the first person position. That is, from my point of view, it is always the first person “I” who does the seeing, the
hearing, the feeling, etc. So I say, “I see” to describe my seeing. And so do you. However, when
speaking of objective evidence we say, for example, “It weighs 2.5438 grams.” But this is just a convenient elliptical shorthand for saying, “I see that the scale shows that it weighs 2.5438 grams.” If we
speak fully and explicitly, it becomes clear that there is no such thing as objective third-party evidence apart from the subjective first-person point of view. All evidence is subjective. The subject is
the one who sees. Therefore as a matter of fact subjective evidence is conceptually, ontologically, and
experientially prior to and superior to objective evidence.
Second, what is really at issue here is not the question of subjective vs. objective evidence, but
the problem of validation. The scientific establishment has come to hold the view that the only legitimate kind of validation is agreement among persons who independently replicate the same experience i.e., collective social validation. But I would like to point out that social validation is just as
possible in relation to subjective experiences as it is in relation to objective experience. And of particular relevance to the present argument, social validation is quite possible in regard to the subjective
experience of realization.
Consider the joke. Generally speaking, if I undergo the experience of realization in response
to what is purported to be a joke, the experience that we call “getting it”, then I find that sometimes
other people also get it. If other people get the same joke, then that is social validation of the joke.
Thus the phenomenon of sharing a joke demonstrates that it is possible for people to share the same
subjective experience just as much as it is for people to share the same objective experience. In fact,
technically, it is not really possible to share an objective experience because there is no such thing.
56
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Basic Question
One cannot have an objective experience, so how can two people have the same objective experience.
The objective point of view is necessarily alienated from direct firsthand experience.
Of course, it is not always possible to share the same subjective experience with every person.
That is, in terms of the example of a joke, for any given joke, there are some people who get it and
there are some people who do not get it. And there are some people who get most jokes, and some
people who don’t get any jokes. But these variations are a function of individual differences, not a
limitation on the possibility of subjective validation.
Third, it is relevant to the question of the validity of subjective evidence, particularly in relation to language, to point out that the prejudice against the subjective point of view, and against
immediate direct first-person experience is integral to the conceptual dynamics of language. In other
words, the validity and credibility of language as a medium of interaction is undermined by immediate experience. For this reason, language has a vested interest in inducing us to value its representations at the expense of the reality which it represents. Therefore, the scientific bias against subjective
evidence is not an objective, empirically justified principle, but is rather a function of the duplicity of
language.
Turning now to the second question about empirical evidence, which is the question of
whether there is any objective empirical evidence which can be brought to bear on the present argument. The answer is yes, there is an abundance of objective empirical evidence, but once again we
will not be in a position to see how such evidence bears on the duplicity of language until after we
have developed a fuller understanding of the duplicity of language. I will mention by way of example
that there is a large body of facts called variously “markedness phenomena” or “language universals”, which have been well known for decades, but which have remained a mysterious and controversial anomaly in the linguistic dialogue, because they are unexpected and inexplicable in the
prevailing theoretical frame of reference. It happens that I previously wrote a book explaining how a
duplicitous theory of language would predict and thus explain these unexpected facts, and thus how
these facts are proof of the validity of this theory. However, that book has only been privately circulated, because the argument presupposes an understanding of the duplicity of language. Therefore,
publication of that line of argument based on objective empirical evidence will have to follow the
present attempt to develop a foundation of awareness of the duplicity of language.
The Basic Question
Finally, I would like to end the discussion of the question of the scientific legitimacy of this
study, and the introduction in general, by observing that the ultimate test of the validity of a theory is
not one of empirical fact, but of pragmatic utility. Therefore the most important question is not “Can
you prove it?”, but “Does it work?”
In regard to the validity of a theory of language one can ask the pragmatic question at several
levels. Does the theory work in helping us to understand and explain the facts of language? Does it
work in helping us to talk better? Etc.
But remember that the basic point of this book is that language is duplicitous. And remember
that on a practical level the relevance of this fact is that as a function of its duplicity, language is a
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
57
Introduction
troublesome human problem. In the words of Jacques Lacan, as quoted earlier in this introduction,
the generic human problem is this.
MAN IS THE SUBJECT CAPTURED AND TORTURED BY LANGUAGE
So the most important empirical question that we must ask of a theory of language is this. Does it
solve the problem of language? Does it expose the duplicitous fraud? Does it liberate us from the captivity of language? Does it bring the torture to an end?
And since these are pragmatic questions, they require pragmatic answers. And a pragmatic
question is like a joke: The answer is not in the realm of words, but in the realm of concrete experience. Indeed, the point is to engender an experience of liberation and pleasure, and if you get the
point, then you are thereby satisfied, so a verbal answer becomes irrelevant.
So the appropriate answer to this kind of question is the silence of satisfaction, but this is a
radically different kind of silence from that with which the unfortunate Wittgenstein concluded his
famous logical argument,
What we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence. (p. 151)
For, alas, after a few years hiatus, he resumed speaking about that which we cannot speak about, but
at least he did so in an illogical manner, if not in a satisfactory manner.
So the most basic empirical question to ask of a theory of language is this: “Does it satisfy?”,
which can only be answered by the direct experience of satisfaction, not by words. And at bottom, it
is truth that satisfies.
58
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
CHAPTER 2
The Theory of Signs
The first purpose of this chapter is to introduce and to explain the theory of signs as put forth
by C. S. Peirce. The second purpose is to show how language fits into the theory of signs. The third
purpose is to show how the theory of signs predicts and explains the duplicity of language.
It is important to introduce the theory of signs into this argument because the theory of signs
provides hospitable frame of reference in which to ground the new point of view I am trying to establish here. And this frame of reference is particularly valuable because it is an absolutely primitive
frame of reference, which is to say that it is independent of both the conventional ordinary point of
view and independent of the conventional scientific point of view. That is, the theory of signs does
not rest on the premises of the science of physics, and it does not rest on any of the conventional
metaphysical premises, and it does not rest on the conventional conceptualization of logic and mathematics and geometry. The theory of signs comes at the problem from a new point of view. Thus the
theory of signs provides fresh new ground, ground that has not been carved up and trampled over by
centuries of trench warfare, and ground from which our fresh new point of view in regard to language
and the human situation happens to evolve naturally.
And it is necessary to explain Peirce’s theory of signs, in spite of the fact that it has been in the
market place of ideas for many years, because it has not been commonly understood. Or rather, to be
more precise, because it has been commonly misunderstood. The fact that it is commonly misunderstood can be attributed in part to Peirce’s obtuse and fragmentary style and in part to the inherent
complexity of the subject. And in part to the fact that it is not the conventional point of view. But for
whatever reason the fact is that the theory of signs has commonly been misunderstood and misrepresented and misused, and thus it has produced very little in the way of understanding and much in the
way of confusion, and thus, in the linguistic universe of discourse at least, Peirce’s theory of signs is
generally considered to be incoherent and useless. So the first purpose of this chapter is to exhume
the theory of signs from the layers of sedimented conventional confusion under which it has been
buried and to bring it back to life.
Given the theory of signs then, the second purpose of this chapter is to explain how language,
which is a system of signs, of course, is situated in the framework of the theory of signs. And the third
purpose is to explain how the duplicity of language follows from the theory of signs.
On the Duplicity of Language (Draft of 10/14/99)
59
The Theory of Signs
Let me be a little more specific about this last point, as it is the crux of the argument. I will
explain in this chapter that Peirce posits as the primitive generative element of the realm of signs a
certain predicate, namely, “the cut.” To put it another way, in the theory of signs all signs are generated by the cut. In generating a sign what the cut cuts is the situation. It cuts the situation into two
frames of reference, two conceptual layers, and thus gives rise to the two-layered frame of reference
in which the sign has its being. Thus, as a function of the cut, all signs are essentially duplicitous.
And, since language is a system of signs, it follows that language is essentially duplicitous.
Turning now to consider the theory of signs, I think we should begin by noting the ironic situation of Peirce in the modern world view. Peirce was something of a tragic figure. He was a brilliant
logician, and yet very few of his contemporaries appreciated his thinking, so he spent most of his
adult life unemployed or underemployed living in a remote village in Pennsylvania. His most constant benefactor and friend was William James, who seemed to appreciate Peirce’s ideas in some
vague and mystical way, but who admitted that he never understood what Peirce was talking about.
And yet Peirce’s theory of logic and the theory of signs which follows from his theory of logic have
had a profound influence on the thinking of scholars in a wide variety of disciplines, especially in
Europe. Peirce’s theory of signs has become very influential as a widely accepted framework for the
study of communication in the most general sense, a pan-discipline discipline of study called “semiotics”1, although it is of much greater currency in Europe than in America. So, in spite of the fact that
Peirce was, as Roman Jakobson said, in his “Quest for the Essence of Language” (1971, p. 346),
perhaps the most inventive and versatile among American thinkers
he is almost entirely unknown among both among laymen and scholars in the United States. And
what is perhaps most ironic is that this “most inventive and versatile” thinker about logic and language is a virtual non entity in the world view of formal logicians and linguists, especially in the
United States.
Jakobson was one of the few exceptions, though one could maintain that he was not really and
exception because he was essentially a European scholar. But in any case Jakobson’s praise was not
just lip service. As he makes clear in the above mentioned essay, from the time he first became
acquainted with Peirce’s theory of signs he took it over as the basis of his own thinking about language. And since Jakobson was and still is one of the most respected linguists in the history of linguistics, one might have supposed that the theory of signs would have played a significant role in the
development of modern linguistic theory, but the fact is that it hasn’t. So from the point of view of the
modern linguistic universe of discourse, the most salient characteristic of Peirce’s theory of signs is
that it is not understood, and thus it is almost entirely ignored.
Against this background, the first point I want to make in this chapter is that I agree with
Jakobson that Peirce’s theory of signs provides exactly the framework that is needed for an adequate
theory of language. Second, I want to suggest that the reason that most linguists, and others, have so
much trouble understanding Peirce’s theory of signs is that they are trying to do so in terms of ratio-
1. Peirce’s seminal thinking has given rise to mountains of publication in disparate fields of inquiry, so it is impossible to
cite any central comprehensive reference. I have focused on Peirce’s Collected Papers, and I have also found Eco’s
Semiotics and the Philosophy of Language, and Murphey’s The Development of Peirce’s Philosophy to be useful. See
also the recent biography, Brent 1993.
60
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Natural Logic
nal logic, whereas the theory of signs is based on the much deeper logic of duplicity. So in these
terms the purpose of this chapter is to kill two birds with one stone: to explain how Peirce’s theory of
signs evolves from the logic of duplicity, and thereby to try to make it clear to linguists that in order
to understand the theory of signs as the basis of a theory of language and to understand language itself
one must look in terms of the logic of duplicity.
Natural Logic
Peirce’s thinking in regard to both logic and the theory of signs is based on the premise that
there is a natural and inherent logic of categories. Peirce holds that the natural logic of categories
underlies and governs the realm of signs. And since language is a system of signs, the natural logic of
categories underlies and governs language. And thus the natural logic of categories also governs all
the other symbolic systems, which are conceptually downstream, such as symbolic logic and mathematics.
Peirce holds that one can observe the logic of categories at work in every symbolic system
including ordinary language, formal symbolic logic, set theory, and mathematics. And from this it
follows that one can learn how the logic of categories works by studying the way it works in any of
these symbolic systems. I will briefly cite a few of the more obvious examples from ordinary language in a moment, but Peirce did not take this approach to the natural logic of categories. He developed the basic framework of natural logic of categories in terms of the internal logic of the first three
numbers, taken not as elements in the endless sequence of numbers, but as the most primitive types of
categories, or equivalently, the most primitive types of relationships. Thus he talks about the tripartite
logic of categories in terms of the concepts of frostiness, scantness, and thirteens. It would take us too
far afield to fully explain the natural logic of categories here, but in as much as this logic is basic to
Peirce’s way of thinking, it might be useful to try to convey some idea of what he has in mind. For a
fuller understanding I refer the reader to Peirce’s own explanations.
The idea is really very simple, but it is so simple that it is hard to think about. One has to adopt
a simplistic, child-like, very unanalytical frame of mind. When you begin to count, for example, you
begin with “one.” And in the beginning there is only one thing. Then comes an other thing, and so
there are two things. Then comes another other thing, and so there are three things. And as Peirce
argued, and as logicians in general have argued, those three basic concepts comprise the foundation
of all logic. In terms of symbolic logic the three basic concepts are called identity, negation, and conjunction. But, as we will see, Peirce frames the logical situation in a different way.
So let us put conventional symbolic logic aside for the moment and look at the qualitative
characteristics of the three categories as Peirce does. Obviously the first type of category in the system of categories is firstness. The essential characteristic of firstness is its rank of firstness and its
quality of oneness. The first category has one member and thus it is the category of oneness and relations of oneness, such as unity, identity, and, using Jakobson’s term, similarity. The dynamic of firstness is centripetal, that is, thrusting in toward the center, gathering together into one. In other words,
if the only verb you could use to categorize things was “similar”, then everything would belong to
one category because in one way or another, everything is similar.
The second type of category is secondness. The essential characteristic of secondness is otherness or difference. The second category contains another element, a second element, the essential
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
61
The Theory of Signs
characteristic of which is that it is different from the first. So the second element, which is the essential characteristic of secondness, presupposes and derives from the first by virtue of the logic of opposition. The second is other-than-the-first. The dynamic of secondness is thus centrifugal, that is,
thrusting out away from the center by means of the force of opposition. So in terms of the metaphor
of our physical universe, we live on the earth, where down is first and up is second. In terms of chronological priority, one is first, two is second. In terms of the dimension of veracity, truth, which is
one, is first, and false, which is many, is second. Putting the dynamic and conceptual types together
we can say that the false arises from the true, the false struggles to sustain its difference against the
natural gravitational force of oneness, and eventually the false collapses back to the true.
The third type of category is thirdness. The essential characteristic of thirdness is reunion.
And it is crucial to realize that the re-union of thirdness is not the same as the original union of firstness. The type of unity of thirdness is categorically different from the type of unity of firstness. The
unity of thirdness is merely synthetic unity, or mediated unity, or representational unity. It is symbolic unity. The dynamic of thirdness is substitution. To be specific, thirdness involves the substitution of the representation of unity for the reality of unity. And this substitution entails the sacrifice of
the third element, which is the essence of thirdness, in the process of mediating between the first and
the second. So the third element in the logic of thirdness is that which represents the reunification of
the second with the first. But of course, in representing reunification, the third necessarily presupposes that there is a second and a first, and thus presupposes that there is no real unity. For if the second were really united with the first, then there would be no possibility of mediation and thus no
third.
I realize that these brief characterizations are merely suggestive, and perhaps even more confusing than enlightening, but rather than trying to explain the idea discursively, I think it would be
more useful to try to illustrate this tripartite system of categories through our discussion of the tripartite systems of signs, because the system of signs follows from the underlying system of natural logic.
And, as I said above, the tripartite logic of categories can be seen in every system of language.
For example, every language has exactly three basic pronominal categories. And these categories have traditionally been called first person, second person, and third person. I am suggesting that
it is not an accident that the grammar of every language has the same tripartite categorization of persons in their pronoun system. This is a universal fact about language, which follows from the natural
logic of categories which underlies and governs language. Of course, the pronoun systems of languages vary as to whether they obligatorily distinguish other categories, such as number, or gender,
or animateness, etc., but the pronoun system of every human language has a system of categories of
persons which consists of exactly three persons, no more and no less, and these three have traditionally been called first, second, and third person.
Another example. All languages have three basic categories of noun phrases, or nominal roles,
in relation to the verb of a sentence. These nominal roles are subject, object, and indirect object. And
the grammar of these nominal categories is structured in various ways as a function of the natural
logic of categories. For one thing the nominal types are ordered: subject is first, object is second, and
indirect object is third. This ordering is manifest in many different ways in the grammar and semantics of language. For example, this ordering governs the logically possible types of verbs: there are
verbs that take three arguments, two arguments, or one argument, but there are no verbs that take no
argument, and there are no verbs that take four or more arguments. Further, just as it is necessarily
62
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Definition of a Sign
true that if there is a set of three things then that set also contains two things, so too it is necessarily
true that if a verb has an indirect object then it must have a subject and an object. That is, a sentence
with an indirect object and no direct object would be logically impossible. Likewise, if a set contains
two things then it also contains one thing. Thus, since the object is second, it follows that if a verb has
an object, then it must have a subject. But the reverse does not hold. That is, a verb can have a subject
with no object or indirect object, e.g., “Bob died”. And a verb can have a subject and an object with
no indirect object, e.g., “Bob killed Jim”. But the natural logic of categories governs the semantic
possibilities of language such that there can be no verb that has an object which does not also have a
subject, and there can be no verb with an indirect object which does not also have an object and subject. These possibilities simply do not occur in natural language because they are logically impossible. It would be as incomprehensible as the idea of basket which contains three oranges, but not two
oranges, or a basket which contains two oranges, but not one orange. Thus the semantic and grammatical structuring of verbs and their nominal arguments is governed by the underlying natural logic
of categories such that subjects are first, objects are second, and indirect objects are third.
Another example. It is well known that all of the laws of logic can be derived from three primitive logical elements: identity, negation, and conjunction (or disjunction). These three elements correspond to the three categories. The first is identity. The second is difference. And the third is
conjunction (or disjunction). Note that difference necessarily follows identity, because you cannot
have something different until you have something to be different from. And note that conjunction
necessarily follow difference, because conjunction is a relation between two things, and the second is
derived from the first by difference. Thus the three fundamental operations in logic are a function of
the natural logic of the tripartite system of categories.
We could go on discussing such examples indefinitely, but this is enough to illustrate the idea
of the natural logic of categories which underlies Peirce's theory of signs. Let us go on now to look at
how the realm of signs is structured in accord with this logic of categories.
The Definition of a Sign
Peirce defined the sign thus: A sign is something that represents something to someone. Or, to
put it in the form of a simple (non cleft) sentence:
A SIGN REPRESENTS SOMETHING TO SOMEONE.
Note that in this statement of the sign function, “represent” is the verb of the function of a sign, and
note that this verb requires all three types of nominals - subject, object, and indirect object. Each of
the nominals in this defining sentence characterizes one of the three fundamental elements in the
grammar of the sign.
1.
The sign, which is the subject of the defining sentence above, functions as the subject in the grammar of the sign relationship.
2.
The something, which is the object of the defining sentence above, functions as the object in the
grammar of the sign relationship.
The someone, also known as the interpreter, the one to whom the sign represents its object, the one
who is the indirect object of the defining sentence above, functions as the indirect object in the
grammar of the sign relationship.
3.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
63
The Theory of Signs
So we could describe the situation implicit in the sign relationship thus: A first party (the sign) represents the second party (the referent) to the third party (the interpreter).
Because of the fundamental role of the sign in human functioning, the implications of this
defining sentence are very far reaching, and Peirce’s voluminous writings attempted to pursue some
of these implications. But one direction of implication which he did not pursue is this: as we mentioned above, the grammar of personal pronouns is implicit in the logic of categories, and because we
conceptualize our selves and our relations in terms of pronouns, the grammar of personal identity,
and the grammar of social structure, is implicit in this sentence. In short, the structure of self and society is governed by the logic of signs.
For example I point out in passing the very important and very enigmatic fact that the subject
of the sentence which defines the sign function is the sign itself, not the living being that transacts in
the sign. And correspondingly, the living being in the grammar of the sign occupies the position of
the indirect object. This implies that, whereas we think of our selves as being the subject in our relations and we think of signs as being objects which we manipulate, the fact is that in the realm of signs
the sign is the subject and we living beings are the indirect objects, the audience to which signs represent things, including our selves. So the grammar of the sign implies that the first and most basic element of human identity is not the lived experience of a human being, but the role of the subject of a
sentence. Of course this seems like a strange way to talk about identity, but one must bear in mind
that the point of view from which it seems strange is the conventional point of view. If one looks at
the way identity works in reality, it becomes apparent that this bizarre reversal of positions from what
is conventionally supposed to be the case is exactly what happens. This seemingly strange inverse
logic of persons explains many well known fact which have hitherto remained anomalous.
For example, it is common knowledge that a child does not refer to himself from the beginning in terms of the pronoun “I”, as one would expect from the conventional way of looking at identity. When a child begins to interact in the medium of language he does not use any pronouns, but
rather he first refers to himself in terms of the name others use to refer to him. In the beginning the
child says of himself, “Bobby fall down”, not, “I fall down.” In other words, he begins to conceptualize himself as seen from the point of view of the other, and in terms of the names given to him by others. And when the child subsequently does begin to use pronouns, he masters them in a fixed order,
but he begins with the third person not the first person. So at a certain stage in his development a
child is capable of structuring his world in terms of names, of you’s and he’s, but not “I”. The first
person pronoun is the last to be mastered.
Unfortunately we cannot explore the fascinating and very important implications of the grammar of personal identity and the grammar of collective social structure further here; we must go on to
explore the place of the duplicity of language in the theory of signs, although this issue is obviously
not irrelevant to the duplicity of the human situation. In fact, Jacques Lacan and his students have
explored the implications of this peculiar reversal of priorities in great detail. Lacan explained the
reversal of priorities in the roots of human ontogeny as a function of a stage of development which
takes place at about six months of age which he called the mirror stage. (See “The mirror stage as formative of the function of the I as revealed in psychoanalytic experience” in Lacan (1977).) The connection here is that the reversal of polarity that occurs in the mirror stage of infantile development is
the manifestation of the duplicity of the realm of signs in the logic of personal identity.
64
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Typology of Signs
Now let us consider the theory of signs in terms of the three basic types of signs. When we
consider the types of signs what we are looking at is the different types of relationships of representation between subject and object. That is, signs represent referents to interpreters in three different
ways. And the three types of signs are a function of the natural tripartite logic of categories. Peirce
called these three types of signs “icons”, “indexes”, and “symbols”. And they are ordered respectively as the first type, the second type, and the third type. We will discuss them in this order.
The Typology of Signs
The first type of sign is the “icon”, which is a sign that refers to its referent by virtue of a relationship of similarity or identity.1 As Peirce said, “A sign by Firstness is an image” (2.2752), so we
might think of the visual image as the prototype of this most basic kind of sign, the iconic sign.
To take a specific example, let us consider the situation which we would ordinarily describe
thus: “I see the moon”. The point we want to focus on is that this is an elliptical way of speaking,
because as we all know, we do not really see the moon itself, but rather we see an image of the moon
which is conveyed to our eyes by light which has been reflected from the moon. The fact is that the
image of the moon and the moon itself are totally different things in totally different places. The
image of the moon is in my eye, the moon itself is thousands of miles away. In terms of sign theory,
we would say that an image of the moon is an iconic sign of the moon.
When we stop to analyze this situation which we normally describe as, “I see the moon”, we
realize that we really should say, “I see an image of the moon”. But in ordinary language we do not
normally bother to mention the intermediary stage of the perception process, the part of our relation
to the moon that is mediated by the sign, because we are normally interested in the referent of the
sign, not in the sign. That is, we are interested in the moon, not in the sign of the moon. And in accord
with the fact that we do not ordinarily talk about the intermediary role of the sign, we don't ordinarily
think about the intermediary role of the sign either. Our attention jumps right over the sign of the
thing to the thing itself so that in our talking and thinking we slide inadvertently into the error of confusing (literally, fusing together, making two into one) the sign and the thing which the sign represents.
1. There has been considerable confusion about the relation between the concepts of similarity and identity, and opposition as well. As these concepts are basic to Peirce’s theory, a note of clarification is in order. Two things can be judged
to be similar in varying degrees. Identity is the limiting type of similarity, where the two things are considered to be
totally similar, or in other words, the same thing. However, in terms of symbolic logic, with the law of the excluded
middle, identity is a logically impossible relationship because two things cannot be one thing. You cannot step in the
same river twice. In fact, you cannot step into the same river once. Thus one can only make sense of the relation of
identity in a duplicitous frame of reference where two things that are judged to be different on one level are judged to
be the same on another level. Or in other words, judgements of identity only make sense in the context of some independent standard of reference governing substitutability, such as a game or some other game-like context. As for the
relation of opposition, two things are opposite if they are identical in every respect except one. Thus in the English system of orthography the letters “d” and “b” are opposite because they are the same in every respect except their leftright orientation. But “d” and “d” are the same letter notwithstanding the fact that they are different.
2. I will use this notation in reference to the Collected Papers of Charles Sanders Peirce. “2.275” refers to volume 2,
paragraph number 275.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
65
The Theory of Signs
This confusion is an instance of the error upon which we are trying to focus attention here.
This is the classical error of thinking that the sign is what it represents. It is the error of thinking that
what you see is what you get. It is the error committed by the little fish we met in Chapter 1, which
led to his becoming a victim of the angler fish. And this error is the root of the generic human problem which arises as a function of the duplicity of language. And as we are beginning to see, it is an
error that arises as a function of the duplicity of signs in general.
Here as we look into the anatomy of the iconic sign we can see that even the most basic kind
of sign is necessarily duplicitous in the most literal possible sense: the image of the moon is a likeness
of the moon which appears to be the moon, but it is not the moon.1 So while it might be convenient to
omit the sign in our ordinary everyday talking and thinking, when we do so we move onto the slope
of confusion, which slides into error. Thus if we want to develop a framework in terms of which we
can unravel the confusions of language, and the human situation in general, and our personal situation
in particular, then we must take care to predicate our thinking on the realization that our interaction
with the world is mediated by perceptual images and other kinds of signs. As I have said, the perceptual image is the most basic kind of sign and is thus the building block of the perceptual realm in
which we, and other living beings, play out our lives. So let us note that it is not only human language
that is duplicitous, but that even the most elementary of signs is duplicitous. All signs are duplicitous,
and so we must relate to them accordingly, as deceptive, as alluring, and as dangerous. We must slow
down our talking and thinking so that we can carefully investigate what is going on so that we can
stop our automatic and unconscious inclination to confuse the image with the thing it represents.
Let us move on now to consider a somewhat more complex situation: “I see the moon in the
water”. Once again this ordinary expression is elliptical. What is really going on here is that I am seeing an image of an image of the moon.2 In terms of sign theory we would say that I am seeing a sign
of a sign of the moon. Although this sort of situation is still quite simple, it shows that sign relations
can become elaborated by means of iterative replications of the basic sign relation to generate chains
of signs, to which there is in principle no limit. The possibility of iteration in the realm of signs is like
the possibility of addition in mathematics: One is not obliged to keep on adding just because it is possible, but there is no limit to the possibilities, except the pragmatic limits of exhaustion and confusion.
For example, consider the slightly different kind of iteration implicit in the following. If one
wanted to go to the trouble of arranging three bowls of water in the proper way, one could create a situation about which one could say, “I can see three moons in the water at the same time”. Or, if you
are one of three people who are looking at the moon, you could say, “We see three moons”, meaning
that each of us is seeing a different image of the same moon. These examples of iteration in the iconic
1. That the sign is duplicitous is implicit in the underlying meaning of the word “sign”. The word was borrowed into
English from Latin signum, which came from the Proto-Indoeuropean root *sekw-, meaning “to follow”. It has cognates “sequel” and “sequence” borrowed from Latin sequi, and “second” from Latin secundus. Thus “sign” means “the
second thing” or “that which follows”, as a shadow follows the real thing. The word “social” comes from the same
root, having been borrowed into English from Latin socius “one who follows”, which of course implies that that which
is social is also duplicitous.
2. Note by the way, that this sentence shows that the grammar of English presupposes and that our use of English grammar is unconsciously governed by the interplay between the one and the many because we say “an” image, but “the”
moon, where “an” implies “one of many” and “the” implies the only one, because there are many images of the one
moon. Thus the conventional usage of determiners also is governed by an unconscious awareness of the duplicity of
signs.
66
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Typology of Signs
sign relation are different from the above in that they are radial replications rather than serial replications.
And, of course, there are situations which can combine both radial and serial kinds of iteration
in various ways. Consider the situation implicit in this sentence: “I see the moon in the water and I
see the moon in the mirror”. Here we have two chaining iterations of two radial iterations. So these
various examples show how even the most basic sign relation alone can be iterated in various ways to
generate extremely complex sign relations. And obviously as we move up the scale of complexity
adding the second and third types of signs the combinatorial possibilities become exponentially more
complex.1
Let us move on to the second type of sign, the indexical sign. While the iconic sign refers to
its referent by virtue of a relation of similarity, the indexical sign refers to its referent by virtue of a
relation of physical contiguity, or actual contact in the limiting case. Consider this example: “I see a
footprint of a deer in the mud”. This is a two-level sign relation similar to that of the moon in the
water, but it is different in that it involves two different type of sign relations. One is an indexical
sign, the other is an iconic sign.
The impression in the mud is an indexical sign of the foot of the deer, and the image of that
impression which I see in my eye is a iconic sign of that indexical sign.
This example illustrates the dimension of displacement that is characteristic of indexical signs
as distinct from iconic signs. There are two dimensions of displacement here. The impression in the
mud is made by the physical presence of the foot of the deer in contact with the mud which forced the
mud to conform to its shape. And the mud is of sufficient viscosity that it preserves the impression
after the deer is no longer present. In the example of the iconic sign of the moon in the water, the
image of the moon does not change the shape of the water, or in any other way materially affect the
water, and the image remains in the water only as long as the moon is present. In other words, the
indexical sign in the mud is displaced in both time and space from its referent, whereas the image in
the water is only displaced in space.
This dimension of displacement that is characteristic of indexical signs opens up a vast new
realm of new possibilities, and a vast new realm of problems. For example, a photograph is like the
mud in that it can retain impressions for a long time. The mind is also like the mud in that it can retain
an impression long after its referent is gone, perhaps dead, or even totally extinct, like the footprints
of the dinosaurs. Also like the mud, the mind can be used by man to manufacture images of referents
that never did exist. Or, the mud can be used to manufacture images of referents that only exist in the
imagination.
Given these new dimensions of duplicity, chronological displacement, and imaginary displacement, together with the second kind of duplicity inherent in the indexical sign relation, the possibilities of displacement from reality which are possible in the realm of signs at the indexical level is
exponentially increased from that which is possible at the level of the iconic sign. The realization of
this fact opens the way to an awareness of how complex imaginary realms of duplicitous interaction
1. I would like to point out that complex systems of this kind are not just logical possibilities. Lakoff (1987) described
many different kinds of grammatical systems in many different languages that are a function of the iteration of these
two types of pairwise relations, which he called “radial” and “chaining” relations.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
67
The Theory of Signs
can evolve from the sort of tiny gaps of displacement from reality as are implicit in the logic of a footprint in the mud. And, of course, displacement from reality is just another way of talking about
duplicity.
There is also another indexical sign function implicit in this situation, and another kind of displacement. The footprint of a deer is not only a sign of the foot of a deer, but because the foot is part
of a deer, it is also a sign of a deer. This kind of sign is a function of the relationship between the parts
and the whole. Each part, taken separately, is a sign of the whole. Thus the hair of a deer is a sign of a
deer. The droppings of a deer is a sign of a deer. The smell of a deer is a sign of a deer. And the foot
of a deer is a sign of a deer. And so on.
As we discussed above, an image of the moon in the water is an iconic sign of the moon
because its connection to the moon is that it is similar in appearance. The example of the moon in the
water is unusual because you can look back and forth between the image of the moon and the image
of the image of the moon in the water to compare the two images, and see that they are similar, and
thus directly see the multiplicity of images, and directly see into the mechanics of representation. By
contrast, if we look at an image of our face in a mirror, for example, there is only one image in our
field of vision, and since we cannot see our face directly, we cannot compare direct and indirect
images in the same way. So too in ordinary perception there is only one image in our field of vision.
That is, if we see the image of a duck flying across the sky, that is all we have to go on. There are
rarely two images of the same thing in our field of vision at the same time. Thus in ordinary perception it is easier to overlook the imaginariness of the images which we see. This is why the moon in the
water is a particularly good to consider in trying to expose the intermediary role of images as iconic
signs.
In regard to the example of the moon in the water, we should comment on the fact that the two
images which we see, the image of the moon and the image of the image in the water, may be virtually identical in appearance. One might suppose that a relation of identity is different from a relation
of similarity, and therefore that this is not really an example of an iconic sign. But identity is not a
categorically different relation from similarity. It is merely the limiting case of similarity: There is a
scale of similarity such that if two things are totally similar, then they are identical. Or to put it the
other way around, if they are identical, then they are totally similar1. And if the surface of the water
were to move even slightly, the image in the water would be distorted, so that the two images might
vary between being identical and merely similar through time, but the image in the water would still
be a sign of the moon whether it was identical or merely similar2. In fact, even a totally unrecognizable flash of light reflected in the water could be taken as a sign of the moon.
The point I want to make here is this: whether one image is objectively identical to another or
only similar or totally different is irrelevant. One of the characteristics of the realm of signs which
makes it easier to get confused is that one must make a subjective judgment as to whether the two
images are images of the same thing or not. There is no independent objective standard. It is a well
known matter of fact that sometimes two seemingly identical images are images of different things,
1. This is only one manifestation of the confusion of identity. The concept of identity is intrinsically duplicitous. Consider
this: The sentence “A is identical to B” presupposes that there are two things, namely A and B, but it asserts that those
two things are one thing.
2. See the discussion of the mirror image as a limiting case of the iconic sign function, Chapter 7, “Mirrors”, in Umberto
Eco, Semiotics and the Philosophy of Language, Indiana University Press, Bloomington. 1986
68
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Typology of Signs
whereas sometimes two different images are images of the same thing. As an example of the former
witness the angler fish’s worm. As an example of the latter witness the moon in moving water.
So there is a gap between the sign and the thing which the sign represents. This gap is the
space of possibility, of variability, of uncertainty, of error. And thus it is the space which offers the
possibility for fraud and deception, for wishful thinking, for selective ignorance or creative interpretation, etc. And therefore, this gap is the critical juncture in the dynamic of the sign, the weak point in
our contact with reality, where the necessity for wise judgment comes into play in trying to bridge the
gap correctly. This gap, this space of possibility, is the realm of duplicity.
Recall that in our discussion of the three categories above we mentioned that there is a relationship of conceptual evolution between the three categories. Just as a category of three things presuppose a category of two things and a category of two things presupposes a category of one thing so
does the category of thirdness presuppose the category of secondness and the category of secondness
presuppose the category of firstness.
And since the three sign types follow from the logic of the three categories, it follows that
there is also a relation of conceptual evolution between the three types of signs. The iconic sign is
first and the indexical sign is second.
One way one can see the relation of conceptual evolution is in the necessary sequence of steps
by which one interprets signs. Consider the footprint example: First as the mud comes into one’s field
of vision an abnormal shape in the mud comes to one's attention; then one recognizes1 the mark as the
footprint of a deer, because one notices that it is similar in shape to the foot of a deer; then one reasons that this similarity is probably a function of the physical impression of the foot of a deer so there
must have been a deer on this spot. So the indexical sign function evolves from the conceptually prior
iconic sign function.
Another example of an indexical sign: Smoke is a sign of fire. This is an indexical sign function because smoke is connected to fire by virtue of the fact that it is produced by fire. So if we see a
column of smoke in the distance, then we can interpret that as a sign which indicates a fire, hence an
indexical sign.
Another example, in Peirce's words,
A sundial or a clock indicates the time of day. (2.285, his emphasis)
He also mentions many other examples.
A low barometer with a moist air is an index of rain; that is we suppose that the forces of nature establish a probable connection between the low barometer with moist air and coming rain. A weathercock is an index of the
direction of the wind; because in the first place it really takes the self-same direction as the wind, so that there is
a real connection between them, and in the second place we are so constituted that when we see a weathercock
pointing in a certain direction it draws our attention to that direction...The pole star is an index, or pointing finger, to show us which way is north. A spirit-level or plumb bob, is an index of the vertical direction. (2.286)
1. Note that “recognize”, borrowed from Latin, literally means “to cognize again”, semantically equivalent to English “to
know again”. Thus the word refers to the process of concluding that this image is similar to an image which you
remember from past experience, i.e., that they are images of the same thing. It describes the working of the iconic sign
function from the point of view of the interpreter.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
69
The Theory of Signs
The act of pointing is perhaps the most typical example of the indexical sign, or at least it is
the example from which the name of the type, “index”, comes.1 The most basic indexical signs in language are the demonstrative pronouns, “this” and “that”, which are obviously related to the act of
pointing. And because these words are indexical signs they cannot be interpreted unless they are
accompanied by something else which provides an indication of physical orientation. That is why it is
inappropriate to say, “I caught a fish this big”, without something nonverbal index that indicates the
size you are referring to by the word “this”.
When we consider examples of indexical signs such as these, it might seem, contrary to the
assertion that was made above, that in some cases there is no prior iconic sign function. But this only
appears to be the case when we think about signs in the abstract. For example, when we think of
smoke as a sign of fire, the indexical dimension is obvious, i.e., smoke is produced by fire, but there
seems to be no iconic dimension. But our thinking works this way because, in keeping with conventional linguistic practice, we have simply left out the iconic stage of the calculation. When we see an
image that looks like smoke, if there is no ambiguity about the identity of the image as smoke, then
we automatically identify it as smoke because it looks exactly like smoke, and then we take that
smoke as a sign of fire. But in reality we do not see smoke, we see an image of smoke. And our
judgement that it is an image of smoke is the first stage in the process of interpreting smoke as a sign
of fire. Thus in the ideal case we are not consciously aware of the fact that we have used the iconic
sign function in our interpretation of the visual image as an image of smoke.
However, when there is some doubt about the identity of what we see, then the iconic sign
function becomes a problem, and it comes to our attention. For example, on a day in which the sky is
otherwise clear we might see some diffuse whiteness against the blue far away on the horizon but not
be able to tell if it is smoke, or just a cloud, or fog, or perhaps the snow caps of a distant mountain
range. Another example: Outside of my window there is a small canal. This morning there was a hazy
whiteness over the surface of the water but I could not determine just by visual observation if it was
fog arising from the water because the air was cold or if it was smoke drifting down the canal from
the neighbor's burning leaves. Only when I went outside to smell could I determine that it was indeed
smoke. In cases such as these, where the image is vague, the iconic aspect of the indexical sign function forces itself into our awareness. Otherwise the iconic level of the indexical sign function remains
unconscious.
Thus when we take smoke as a sign of fire, there are two stages of reasoning: first there is an
iconic stage of reasoning where we identify what see as smoke, as distinct from clouds, or fog; and
then there is an indexical stage of reasoning where we reason that if there is smoke, then there must
be a fire, because smoke is produced by fire. So when we identify the percept as smoke, we are reading the percept as an iconic sign, and then when we take smoke as a sign of fire, we are reading it as
an indexical sign.
Or consider the act of pointing in regard to the iconic dimension of the indexical sign. In
American culture one points by extending one's arm in the direction of the object being referred to
with one's hand clasped in a loosely clenched fist except for the index finger, which is extended in the
direction of the object being indicated, which is why it is called the “index” finger. Again, when we
consider the act of pointing as an indexical sign in the abstract, it seems to be purely indexical with1. Latin “index” means “indicator” and refers to the finger which we call in English the “forefinger” or the “index” finger.
70
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Typology of Signs
out any underlying level of iconic sign function. However, the iconic level becomes evident when
interpretation becomes a problem through doubt about whether the person is really pointing or just
reaching out to grab something or to touch something. The iconic level also becomes evident if one
considers cultural variability in ways of pointing and considers the question of what it is about the
various gestures that permits them to function as an act of pointing. For example, whereas in American culture the stereotype of pointing is with the index finger, we do sometimes point with our eyes,
or with a turn of the head. Some cultures point with their elbows, some with their lips pursed, some
with their nose. But what all of these indexical signs have in common is that they orient and/or extend
some salient body part in the direction of the referent. For example, those who use their lips as an
index, when they point they purse their lips to make them protrude even more than usual, and they
raise and tilt their head in such a way as to make their lips move in the direction of the object of reference. Thus what all acts of pointing have in common is that they protrude and/or move in the indicated direction and thus they move our attention in that direction. In other words, moving my hand in
that direction is similar to moving my whole body in that direction is similar to moving my eyes in
that direction is similar to moving my attention in that direction. So to “get the point” is to grasp the
similarity between the movement of the indicator (the finger, lip, eye, etc.) to the referent and the
intended movement of attention to the referent. This similarity is the iconic dimension of the indexical sign of pointing.
Thus having described and illustrated the evolutionary logic of the first two levels of the system of signs, let us move on to consider the third type of sign, which Peirce calls the “symbol.”1 The
symbol is a sign that represents an object by virtue of an assumption, a stipulation, an agreement, a
rule, or a convention. Language is the symbolic medium, and the word is the basic symbolic element,
but “all words, sentences, books, and other conventional signs are Symbols” (2.291) And, of course,
being the third type of sign, the symbolic sign evolves from and incorporates2 the prior two types of
signs.
A regular progression of one, two, three may be remarked in the three orders of signs, Icon, Index, Symbol. The
Icon has no dynamical connection with the object it represents; it simply happens that its qualities resemble those
of that object, and can excite analogous sensations in the mind for which it is a likeness. But it really stands
unconnected with them. The index is physically connected with its object; they make an organic pair, but the
interpreting mind has nothing to do with this connection, except remarking it, after it is established. The symbol
is connected with its object by virtue of the idea of the symbol-using mind, without which no such connection
would exist. (2.299)
Note that in the case of the symbol, the relationship between the sign and the referent is a function of
nothing more than the idea that they are related. All that is required for something to represent something to someone as a symbolic sign is for that someone to consider it to do so. So I can make up my
own symbols as I wish. And you can make up your own symbols as you wish. Or we can make up
symbols in agreement with each other as we wish. Or we can adopt the symbols that have been collectively developed by the language and culture that we happened to be born into. Thus it is possible
1. Peirce points out that the word “symbol” is borrowed from Greek suvmbolon, and etymologically it means “to throw
together” or “put together”, or “unite”. (Note, by the way, that diabolon, translated into English as “diabol(ical)” or
“devil”, has the same root, and note that it is semantically opposite, meaning “to throw across” or “to pull apart” or “to
divide”.) In regard to the role of the symbol as the ground of the social contract, Peirce observed that “we do find symbol (suvmbolon) early and often used to mean a convention or contract.” (2.298)
2. See the discussion of symbolic incorporation below.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
71
The Theory of Signs
to use any arbitrary thing as a symbolic sign to represent any other arbitrary thing. The possibilities
are limited only by the fertility of our imaginations.
However, while it is true that symbolic possibilities are only limited by our imaginations, it is
also true that our imaginations are limited by reality to the extent that our being is limited by reality.
That is, we are free to imagine anything we might wish to imagine, but in the beginning all imagination arises from the ground of reality, and in the end all imagination comes back down to the ground
of reality, one way or another, either by gradual evaporation or by sudden collapse. Thus we must
take care not to draw the wrong conclusion from the fact that the possibilities of the symbolic realm
are unlimited in principle. The fact that it is possible to create any arbitrary symbolic sign we might
wish to has led many people to erroneously jump to the conclusion that all symbolic signs are necessarily arbitrary. This is not true.
There are degrees of arbitrariness, or unnaturalness, in symbols. And at the same time there
are degrees of motivation, or naturalness in symbols. But we must take care here not to fall into
another error, which is to assume that the relation between naturalness and unnaturalness is scalar,
like temperature or height. That is, while it is true that all symbolic signs are partly natural and partly
unnatural, it is also true, as we have seen, that some signs are purely natural, e.g., shadows and mirror
images. So there are signs that are purely natural, but there are no signs that are purely unnatural.
Therefore, there are no symbols that are purely unnatural. And at the same time there are no symbols
that are purely natural.1
To put it another way, there is an asymmetrical relation between naturalness and unnaturalness, which follows from and manifests the same logic as that of the basic categories which underlie
the system of signs. To be precise, in the tripartite system of categories, unnaturalness is a function of
the third type, and therefore unnatural relations are built upon the foundation of and evolve from the
logic of the two prior kinds of relations, which are natural. Thus, all signs that have an element of
unnaturalness, i.e., all symbols, also have an underpinning of naturalness, but the converse is not true.
Thus from the logic of signs it follows that there could not possibly be such a thing as a sign that is
totally unnatural, not even a symbolic sign.
Let us briefly consider some examples to illustrate the relationship between naturalness and
unnaturalness in symbolic signs. One obvious example is that giving food is a natural element of intimate relationship, both among human beings and lower species, and consequently it is natural that
human beings in disparate cultures throughout the world would choose to use the act of giving food
as a symbolic sign of intimacy or offering to give food in the ceremonial enactment of social relationships which are intended to be intimate, such as marriage.2 In this way, in symbolic systems which
1. This seemingly strange kind of asymmetrical relationship is not unique to the naturalness of signs. This asymmetry is
common in ordinary language; for example, “up” and “down” work this way. “Down” is a fixed point of reference,
namely on the ground, whereas “up” is open ended. Thus there is an absolute limit to “down” namely “all the way
down”, whereas there is no limit to how “up” something can be. Thus there are endless degrees of upness, and yet there
is a categorial limit to downness. So too is “here” and “there”, “now” and “then”, “us” and “them”, etc. Indeed, everything in language works this way. This is a function of the oneness vs. the manyness of the relation between the true
and the false. There are no degrees of truth, and yet there are infinite degrees of falseness. So there is a ground of naturalness in signs, an absolute standard, and yet there are infinite degrees of possible unnaturalness. I believe a similar
thing occurs in the realm of physics where, for example, there is an absolute lower limit of temperature, called absolute
zero, whereas there is no upper limit.
2. The natural basis of such symbols is discussed in some detail in Natural Symbols by Mary Douglas (1970).
72
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Typology of Signs
have evolved more or less naturally, i.e., more or less unconsciously, without conscious contrivance,
without what Franz Boas called “secondary reasoning”, “re-interpretations”, “secondary explanations”1, symbols come into being through chains of natural associations based upon iconic or indexical relations. Thus the symbols of natural language tend to be relatively natural, especially when
compared to artificial languages, such as formal logic, mathematics, and computer languages. But
even artificial languages retain inextricable traces of their grounding in naturalness. Although logicians of the logical positivist school have been trying to develop a purely logical language for
decades, by which they mean a language from which naturalness has been totally expunged, it is not
possible to do so.2 It is no more possible to have a symbolic system without natural iconic and indexical functions, than it is to have an animal without chemical and vegetative functions.
Of course, as is probably obvious, Peirce’s theory of signs explains the naturalness of symbolic signs as a consequence of the fact that symbolic signs evolve from the lower level iconic and
indexical signs, which are connected to their referents by natural relations of similarity or contiguity.
Symbols grow. They come into being by development out of other signs, particularly from icons, or from mixed
signs partaking of the nature of icons and symbols. (2.302)
One can look at the same phenomena from another angle in terms of the observation that there
is no such thing as a purely symbolic sign. All symbols have the value which they do in large part as
a function of underlying iconic and indexical functions upon which arbitrary symbolic functions are
imposed. In one of his discussions of language in terms of Peirce’s theory of signs Roman Jakobson
cited some simple and clear examples which illustrate how the different kind of sign functions are
integrated in the same complex sign.
The chain of verbs - Veni, vidi, vici - informs us about the order of Ceasar's deeds first and foremost because the
sequence of co-ordinate preterits is used to reproduce the succession of reported occurrences. The temporal order
of speech events tends to mirror the order of narrated events in time or in rank. Such a sequence as “the President
and the Secretary of State attended the meeting” is far more usual than the reverse, because the initial position in
the clause reflects the priority in official standing. (1971, “Quest for the Essence of Language”, p. 351)
The words - Veni, vidi, vici - are symbols, but the relation of priority among the words, and thus the
chronological sequence of the events they refer to, is represented by means of the iconic sign of priority, which in this case is represented by left-to-right order. That is, there is an iconic relation of similarity between order in left-to-right sequence (at least in English) and order in time. So order in leftto-right sequence is an icon of order in time, though in reality the two have nothing to do with each
other.
Note the verbs which Jakobson used in this quote to describe the sign function -” reproduce”,
“mirror”, and “reflect”. I want to point out first that in general the verbs which are used to describe
1. In his classic Handbook of American Indian Languages (1911, reprinted 1966, p.63-4)
2. See the discussion in Greenberg 1966 beginning on p. 25. He notes that the natural principles of markedness “can be
shown to operate even within the austere confines of mathematical and logical symbolism”. For example, in keeping
with the fact that truth is naturally prior to false, as we argued in Chapter 1, Greenberg pointed out that “logicians use
the term ‘truth value’, involving the unmarked member, not ‘falsity value’ to express the over-all category”. Similarly,
in the language of mathematics, “-5 is always negative, but 5 by itself is either the absolute value of 5, that is 5
abstracted from its sign value or +5 as the opposite of the marked negative category. So, in logic p was used ambiguously either as the proposition p abstracted from its truth value as either true or false or, on the other hand, for the assertion of the truth of p.”
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
73
The Theory of Signs
the sign function always allude to the doubleness of the sign in some way. “Re-produce” means “to
produce again”. “Re-present” means “to present again”. As we discussed above, “to mirror” and “to
reflect” describe the reproduction of an image of the original. And as we pointed out in a footnote
above, the word “sign” itself means “that which follows” and thus alludes to its own position of secondness.
In addition I would like to point out, focusing upon Jakobson’s use of the words “mirror” and
“reflect”, that he used these words to refer to this relationship because the iconic sign is a mirror-like
relation. In other words, the mirror image relation is similar to the iconic sign relation. So, the words
“mirror” and “reflect” are being used in this quote with a secondary iconic value, as iconic signs, not
with their literal referential value. That is, Jakobson is not speaking of a mirror when he uses the word
“mirror”, but rather he is using the idea of the mirror relation as an iconic sign of the iconic relation.
The mirror relation mirrors the iconic relation. So the word “mirror” in his description is an example
of the iconic use of a symbol, which is what we call “metaphor”.
In the same work, Jakobson also cites the well known language universal which holds that if a
language distinguishes between plural and singular in nouns, then the plural will be marked1. In
English, for example, we mark the plural by adding “s”, so “dog” is singular and “dog+s” is plural. If
one considers this fact about English in the abstract, one might think that it could just as well be the
other way around. That is, one might think there could be a language in which the plural would be the
simple form from which the singular would be differentiated by marking it with a suffix of singularity. But linguists have found that there is no such language. And not by coincidence. The reason that
the grammar of pluralization works out this way in all language is because the symbolic layer of language, to which grammar belongs, is built upon the foundation of the prior, and semantically dominant, underlying layers of indexical and iconic sign functions. As the grammar of number is manifest
in English, and other languages, the singular form consists of one morpheme and the plural form consists of two morphemes. In this way, the oneness of the form of the singular as opposed to the twoness of the form of the plural is an iconic sign which conveys the meaning of singularity vs. plurality.
That is, the “-s” in and of itself is not a sign which means “plural” symbolically, in the same arbitrary
sense as the word “dog” means dog. The “-s” is a sign which means “plural” iconically, because
when it is added to a word, it makes the word more complex. The plural suffix does not refer to the
idea of plurality, but rather it actually makes the word plural, and thus conveys the idea of plurality
by being the very embodiment of multiplicity, that is, pluralness2.
Thus semantic categories and their corresponding grammatical structures are necessarily
asymmetrical in this way because it is not possible in principle to represent oneness. Considered in
the abstract, one might suppose that one could devise a system where the basic form is plural and one
derives the singular by marking every noun as singular by removing the last phoneme, thus making
the form of the word less complex, and thus by implication singular. But in practice this would not
1. See Greenberg, 1966 for a detailed statement of the universal principle which governs the morphology of plurals and a
survey of the facts. It should also be said here that this is by no means an isolated example of this phenomenon. The
whole fabric of language shows the same kind of asymmetrical structural bias, which is known as “markedness”.
Greenberg discusses some of the more well known examples. See also Osgood, et al (1975) for a description of a massive computerized cross-cultural study.
2. By the way, this also explains why languages tend to use the same suffix to mark numerous unrelated grammatical categories. For example, in English we use “-s” not only to mark the plural of nouns, but also to mark the third person singular present tense, “I dig” vs. “He dig+s”.
74
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Typology of Signs
work because if you take something away, you don't make a word less complex, you make it different. “Dog” minus the “g” is “do”, which is not a less complex variant of “dog”, but a totally different
word. Thus it is inherent in the nature of the realm of signs that the underlying iconic sign functions
comprise the foundation of and impose their prior government upon the level of symbolic sign functions.
General Characteristics of the Realm of Signs
We have barely touched upon the vast complexity of the realm of signs, or even the more narrow realm of language, but we have looked at enough examples to have developed an understanding
of the general characteristics of the realm of signs, and so we are in a position to locate the duplicity
of language in the context of the larger realm of signs. So we must put off further exploration of the
system of signs in order to return to the task at hand, which is to develop an understanding of the
duplicity of language. Let us therefore bring this survey of the theory of signs to a close by summarizing the general characteristics of the realm of signs, and by explaining exactly how our focus of interest on the duplicity of language fits in the general realm of signs.
Figure is a representation of the tripartite structure of the realm of signs in accord with
Peirce's theory of signs.
FIGURE 3.
The Typology of Signs
Level 3 - Symbolic Signs
Level 2- Indexical Signs
Level 1 - Iconic Signs
The idea of this representation is that there are three levels of sign types, each of which evolves from
the prior. As in biology, where vegetative processes evolve from more elementary chemical processes, so in the realm of signs each level evolves from the prior, and adds another level of complexity to the machinery of representation. The first sign type is the icon, which represents its object by
means of a relation of similarity1. The second sign type is the index, which represents its object by
means of a relation of contiguity. And the third sign type is the symbol, which represents its object by
means of a relation of ideal conjugation2.
1. The root meaning of “similar” is “as one”, which is why it is the first and most basic sign relation. Note, however, the
duplicity implicit in the fact that “as one” implies “not one”.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
75
The Theory of Signs
Now that we have the framework of the realm of signs laid out before us, I would like to specific some of the basic parameters of the realm of signs by way of elaborating our position.
1.
First, one of the obvious differences between living organisms and non-living things, such as
a rock, is that a rock can only interact with its environment in direct physical ways, whereas living
organisms can interact both in direct ways and also in indirect ways that are mediated by signs. Thus,
only living organisms can transact in the realm of signs. And, as I said in the introduction, it appears
that all evolutionary levels of living organisms, from man down to plants, and even bacteria and
viruses, do interact in the medium of signs. So the first parameter of the realm of signs is this:
ONLY LIVING ORGANISMS INTERACT IN THE REALM OF SIGNS.
2.
In terms of the theory of signs, what distinguishes human beings from other living organisms
is that only human beings fully enter into the symbolic level of the realm of signs. And conversely, all
normal human beings do fully enter into the symbolic level of the realm of signs; If they do not, they
are not considered to be normal.
ONLY HUMAN BEINGS INTERACT AT THE SYMBOLIC LEVEL.
Of course, the symbolic realm is the realm of human language par excellence, the duplicity of which
is our focus of attention. And all human beings take on a symbolic social identity by incorporating
themselves in the images of their mother tongue. (See “Incorporation” beginning on page 236.) Some
other animals are capable of limited transaction in the currency of symbols, but their ability to coin
new symbols is severely limited, and they do not attain a social identity, etc.
3.
As we showed in discussing each different kind of sign above,
ALL SIGNS ARE DUPLICITOUS.
2. “Ideal” is the adjective of “idea”, meaning “something that exists in the mind, imaginary”. An older meaning, now
obsolete, is “a mental image of something remembered”. The word was borrowed from Greek eidos meaning “form,
shape” and has related forms in English “eidetic”, “idyll”, and “idol”. It comes from the Proto-Indoeuropean root
*weid- meaning “to see”, which became “wit”, “wise”, “wisdom” in English, and “druid” (< dru-wid = “strong seer”)
in Celtic, and “view”, “vision”, etc. in Latin. So from the root meaning “to see” we get “wise” in one direction and
“idol” in the other, the former from the underlying, the latter from the surface. The former is the point of what you see,
the latter is the image of what you see.
“Conjugation” is the noun of the verb “conjugate”, borrowed from Latin, meaning literally “together yoke”, i.e., “to
join together especially in pairs” It also means “to inflect a verb”. It comes from the Proto-Indoeuropean root *yeugwhich became “yoke” in English, and is uses especially in reference to joining man and woman together in marriage,
which is the idea that is commonly used as the prototype of conjunction.
Thus “ideal conjugation”, which is the symbolic relation, is the imaginary marriage of the sign and referent, a synthetic
union (to use Kant's characterization of thirdness with a different value than he intended), an artificial union. In other
words, the symbolic sign is a substitutive reenactment of the original state of unity in the realm of signs. Thus the symbol is a duplicitous union.
76
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Typology of Signs
And what is more, all duplicity is a function of the logic of the sign. From this it follows that the
realm of signs is the realm of duplicity, and vice versa. “Sign” and “duplicity” are different names for
the same thing.
A corollary of this is that, as we discussed in Chapter 1, the realm of duplicity is not conterminous with the realm of language. In other words, duplicity is not an exclusively human capability.
Just as there is duplicity in the lower orders of the realm of signs, there is also duplicity in the lower
orders of the system of biological evolution.
The Cut
It seems appropriate at this point to interject a parenthetical note explaining how the duplicity
of language and of all signs is ultimately a function of the predicate Peirce posits at the very root of
the logic of the sign, namely, the cut. Someone who is not familiar with the deepest levels of Peirce’s
Theory of Signs might be of the opinion that the idea that all signs are duplicitous is alien to his way
of thinking. It is certainly not a point that is commonly discussed in relation to his theory. Therefore,
under that supposition, one might question the authority of my assertion that all signs are duplicitous,
thinking perhaps that I am interjecting it into the theory of signs on my own authority. I reply in two
ways.
First, the question of whether Peirce was aware of the fact that all signs are duplicitous or not
is of historical interest, but not of more than incidental relevance to the theory of signs. The most
important question is whether it is true that all signs are duplicitous. And this is a question that one
can only answer by looking at signs, not at Peirce’s writings. I believe I have demonstrated in the
above discussion that all signs are indeed duplicitous.
Second, it happens to be the case that Peirce was perfectly aware of the inherent duplicity of
all signs, and he alluded to it in many places in many different ways. But he did not focus upon the
doubleness implicit in the logic of the sign, nor particularly on its inclination to falsity. But he posited
the “cut” as the basic predicate upon which the logic of the sign rests.1 The cut is the mental operation
by which something is taken as a sign, which is to say, as a sign of something else, as distinct from
being taken as itself. In the beginning the cut is a purely iconic operation, i.e. it takes place in our
imagination. The cut divides the thing taken as a sign from the thing as a thing, and thus gives birth to
the conceptualization of the thing as sign in our imagination. For example, when you look at a dark
cloud in the sky and take it as a sign of rain, you are no longer relating to the cloud as a cloud per se,
but as a sign of rain. This is what it means to take the cloud as a sign of rain. You no longer see it in
its cloud-ness, but you see it in its sign-ness. Thus in your minds eye the cloud has been alienated
from its essential nature and has been transformed into a sign of something else. Thus taking it as a
sign creates a secondary conceptual realm in which the cloud has value as a sign of rain, as distinct
1.
This “cut” is obviously the same as the predicate which Spencer-Brown posited at the root of
his theory of logic in his Laws of Form, namely, ”Let there be a distinction.” As Merrell (1991)
pointed out, “Peirce’s notion of a cut in the uncut is remarkably commensurate... with SpencerBrown’s calculus of indications based on one symbol, !, the mark of distinction...” (p. 11, italics in
original).
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
77
The Theory of Signs
from the prior situation in which a cloud is just a cloud. In this way, taking something as a sign cuts
our conceptualization of the cloud up into two layers, which taken together constitute a duplicitous
conceptualization. This is an example of what Peirce meant by “a cut in the uncut” in the sense that
the cloud is not actually cut in being taken as a sign. So this is the sense in which duplicity is the conceptual state that results from the cut.1
While it would be interesting and useful to explore the implications of the idea of the cut more
directly, we must keep to our focus upon the duplicitous aspect of signs. I will thus only mention a
couple of particularly salient points in passing.
I would like to point out that the technical concept of the mark as it is used in linguistics as the
basic element of the formal structure of language an idea that was developed in the Prague school of
linguistics, notably in the work of Trubetzkoy and Jakobson, and which has now become commonly
accepted in the discipline of linguistics, though not widely understood, is connected to Peirce’s idea
of the cut in the following way: A mark is a sign of a cut.
Finally, I would like to point out that the violence which is implicit in both the idea of the cut
and the idea of the mark is not incidental. The cut, which Peirce identifies as the primitive generator
of the realm of signs, is also the primitive generator of the violence that evolves to the ultimate degree
of fruition and flourishes so spectacularly, and so tragically, in the human species. It is not that taking
a cloud as a sign of rain is intrinsically harmful, but what is harmful is to forget that it is a cloud, and
to treat it only as a sign. At this elementary level in the evolution of the logic of the cut, at the level of
simple and natural indexical signs, the violence of the cut is correspondingly trivial. But as the logic
of the cut multiplies and increases in force and becomes more complex and more sophisticated and
spreads to encompass larger areas of life and more intimate areas of life, the violence becomes correspondingly more pervasive, and more intense, and more harmful.
The violence of the cut in the case of the angler fish is obvious, but the same degree of violence is evident in human interaction. For example, it is common among cultures of the world to take
women as signs of value, and to exchange them between social groups as tokens of solidarity, as chattel.2 In such systems of exchange, women are conceptualized as and transacted with as signs of something else, not as they are in their own intrinsic nature. In this way, women are commonly cut off
from, alienated from, their own nature in the conventional universe of discourse. And, men are correspondingly cut off and alienated in their role as symbolic embodiment of the law. At this level the
violence of the cut has evolved to a level of sophistication that is far from trivial.
But then there is no shortage of examples. On the contrary, as we are arguing, the point is precisely that what counts for value, i.e., significance, in the realm of signs is a function of the violence
of the cut. For example, consider the story of the Trojan Horse, which we will discuss in some detail
in the next chapter; note that in order to make that symbolic horse, the Greeks had to cut down real
trees. That sort of cut is not just an imaginary cut, like the one that results from taking a cloud as a
sign of rain. It a real physical cutting of real physical trees. So too are tattoos. And the cutting of sac-
1. There is a detailed analysis of a system of cuts in phonology in the section entitled “Sapir’s Fourth Example of Phonemic Illusion” beginning on page 324.
2. For a discussion of the role of women as tokens of exchange from an anthropological perspective see Levi-Strauss ( ).
And by the way, the word “chattel” is from Old French chatel, from Latin capita:le. It means “property, goods,
money”, and it was also used of indentured servants and slaves.
78
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Typology of Signs
rificial lambs. Etc. These examples suggest, in the present context, that there are three different kinds
of cuts - iconic cuts, indexical cuts, and symbolic cuts.
As I said it would be interesting to explore the realm of signs as a function of the cut, but we
will have to put it off for a future occasion. On the other hand, one can easily transform statements
about the duplicity of language into statements about the cut, so that one can take this present study of
the duplicity of language as an exploration of the logic of the cut.
I will just conclude this present discussion of Peirce’s conceptualization of the duplicity of
language in terms of the cut by explaining how the cut is manifest in the iconic representation of
duplicity which I am using here. For this purpose consider Figure 4 on page 79. The idea here is that
FIGURE 4.
The Cut
Level 2
Level 1
This line represents the first cut and this line represents the second cut.
the paper represents reality, which Peirce calls variously the “first sheet of assertions”, the level of
firstness, the real, or the uncut. The first cut is the cut in the uncut, which is represented here by the
first line. The plane that is labeled “Level 1” is cut out of the prior, which in this case is reality, and
thus derives the first layer of duplicity. The shadow represents the fact that the conceptual space
which is cut out of the prior uncut space is suspended in imaginary space above the level of the real
surface of the paper. Of course, the space of Level 1 which appears to be cut out of the paper, and
which appears to be suspended above the level of the paper, is not really cut out and it is not really
above the level of the paper. It is just an illusion. This is the sense in which this space is duplicitous.
And the cut is also an illusion. But the black line is a real thing, and it represents the cut. The line is
the mark of the cut. Thus the black line is a sign of the cut that separates the space of Level 1 from the
space of the paper, but in this case it does not really cut the paper, just as taking a cloud as a sign of
rain does not really cut the cloud out of the sky. In some cases, however, such as circumcision, the cut
is real.
And then, having cut out the space of Level 1, we can take Level 1 as a sheet of assertions, or
a universe of discourse, and we can repeat the process cutting out the space of Level 2 from the prior
ground of Level 1.
This figure illustrates the way in which a cut engenders a duplicity. And it also illustrates the
logic of the concept of the “mark” as it is used in linguistics: a mark is the sign of a cut. And it illustrates the way in which cuts can be iterated.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
79
The Theory of Signs
4.
Returning now to our explanation of the duplicity of language in the context of the Theory of
Signs, given the fact that all signs are duplicitous, we can restate the point of this book thus:
THE REALM OF SIGNS IS THE REALM OF DUPLICITY.
So in these terms one can characterize the generic human error as one of using the wrong name for
these things. The conventional name for these things we are looking at is “signs”, but as I have been
trying to argue, the conventional point of view is that of the customer, the dupe, the victim. The problem with the name “sign” is that it implies that a sign is a trustworthy thing. And while signs are trustworthy, if you read them correctly, if you fail to realize that they are duplicitous, you are likely to
misread them. So to frame our relationship with these things in such a way as to emphasize their
duplicity, we should call them duplicitous.
To see that the word “sign” is misleading, if you look up the word “sign” in a dictionary, there
are many different definitions, but all of them focus only on the benevolent aspect of the sign. None
of them even hints that there is a dark side. The first definition of “sign” in my dictionary (American
Heritage, third edition) is this: “something that suggests the presence or existence of a fact, condition,
or quality”. This definition implies that the fact, condition, or quality which the sign suggests is really
there, and thus implies that the sign is a reliable guide to things. Nowhere, in this or any of the other
definitions given, does the dictionary give even the least suggestion that signs might sometimes be
misleading. Nor does it point out that signs sometimes suggest a fact, condition, or quality that is a
fabrication. So needless to say, the fact that all signs are intrinsically duplicitous is not mentioned in
the dictionary.
What is most egregious in regard to the common way of defining a sign, is that, while it is true
that a sign suggests the presence of something (whether truly or falsely is another question), at the
same time a sign implies the absence of that very thing. That is, if you are looking at a menu, the
words on the menu suggest that there is food somewhere, but the fact that you are looking at signs of
food implies that food is absent. You look at the menu only when the food is not present; when the
food comes, you stop looking at the menu and start eating. So in reality, a sign of something only
plays a role when the thing it refers to is absent. A sign therefore is a kind of promise, but a promise
is necessarily about things that are absent. So a sign does suggest the presence of something, but it
does so in the absence of that something. So a sign is not a sign of presence, but a sign of absence.
So the point we are trying to make in this book is that the conventional conceptualization of
language is misleading, and the very crux of this misleading conceptualization is the name in terms of
which it is conventionally institutionalized, which is the word “sign”. Therefore, in order to properly
frame our relationship with this realm of things, we should call it the realm of duplicity, rather than
the realm of signs.
In the next section of this chapter we will show that this is the point of the ancient Greek story
of the Trojan horse. The Trojan horse is a symbolic representation of the sign. The horse was offered
to the Trojans by their enemies as a sign of the Trojan's victory. The Trojans committed the strategic
error of accepting their enemy's representation of the horse at face value as a sign of victory, whereas
in fact the horse was a duplicitous ruse designed to bring about their destruction, which it did. So the
point of this story is that the error of believing in the value of a sign of victory, brought about the fact
of defeat. This is what is at stake in the question of whether to call these things signs, or duplicitous
images. If we call them signs, they we will be inclined to believe them and be taken in by them,
80
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Typology of Signs
whereas if we call them duplicity, we will be inclined to see their doubleness and thus read them correctly.
5.
Given that the realm of signs is the realm of duplicity, then it follows that Peirce's theory of
signs is also a theory of duplicity. From this it follows that the tripartite system of signs is a tripartite
system of duplicity. So
THERE ARE THREE TYPES OF DUPLICITY.
There is iconic duplicity, indexical duplicity, and symbolic duplicity.
6.
As we discussed at length above, and as is obvious from Figure 3, “The Typology of Signs,”
on page 75,
LANGUAGE CONSISTS OF ALL THREE SIGN TYPES.
So, although we are focusing on the duplicity of language, which is the symbolic realm, one cannot
make sense of symbolic duplicity apart from the underlying levels of duplicity from which it evolves.
Therefore, although we are concerned primarily with the duplicity of language, the duplicity of language cannot be separated from the whole system of duplicity.
7.
As is also obvious from Figure 3, since language incorporates all three sign types, language is
not merely duplicitous, but
LANGUAGE CONSISTS OF ALL THREE TYPES OF DUPLICITY.
Iconic signs are the first layer of duplicity, indexical signs, which include iconic duplicity and add
another layer of duplicity, are the second layer of duplicity, and symbolic signs, which include indexical and iconic duplicity and add yet another layer, constitutes the third layer of duplicity.
8.
Moving back now to look from a broad point of view at the realm of duplicity, which is the
same as the realm of signs, I would like to explicitly focus upon one particular feature of the realm of
duplicity, an important feature, but one which has remained in the background up to this point,
namely, error. I think it would be useful to discuss the relationship between error and the realm of
duplicity. To establish the lower boundary of error, let us note that a rock cannot err. Nor can water or
fire or gravity. I think it is safe to surmise on the basis of such observations that error does not arise in
the realm of physical phenomena.
As we saw in our discussion about the angler fish in Chapter 1, there is error in the animal
kingdom, or at least the fish kingdom, because the angler fish makes his living by exploiting the inclination to error among fish in his neighborhood. And we pointed out that if one looks at biological literature in the right way it becomes obvious that the inclination to error pervades the realm of living
organisms from bacteria and viruses and plants at the bottom all the way up to the human species at
the top, about which one could say that they have not only attained the apogee of biological evolution, but also that they have attained the apogee of evolution in the realm of duplicity and error, hence
the famous dictum “to err is human”.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
81
The Theory of Signs
These observations about the general parameters error suggest that not only is the realm of
error coterminous with the realm of duplicity, which is also the realm of signs, but also that error is a
function of duplicity, which is to say, error is a function of signs. Therefore,
THE REALM OF SIGNS IS THE REALM OF ERROR
and
THE REALM OF DUPLICITY IS THE REALM OF ERROR.
From this it follows that the realm of error has the same architectonic structure as the realm of signs.
It follows that
THERE ARE THREE TYPES OF ERROR
and it follows that these three types of error are isomorphic with the three types of signs and the three
types of duplicity, that these three types of error are interrelated in accord with the underlying logic of
the three categories, exhibiting the same features we discussed above in relation to signs, and so on.
Finally, now that we have attained a perspective where we can see that signs, duplicity, and
error are merely different facets of the same epiphenomenal relationship, we are in a position to succinctly state the point I want to make here, which is this:
THE FAILURE TO REALIZE THAT ALL SIGNS ARE DUPLICITOUS
IS THE MOTHER OF ALL ERROR.
Or as Huang Po, the sixth patriarch of Chinese Buddhism, put it circa 850 AD (Blofeld, p. 71),
Anything possessing any signs is illusory. It is by perceiving that all signs are not signs that you perceive the
Truth.
9.
The last point I will make by way of relating the theory of signs to the larger context is to
observe that
THE REALM OF DUPLICITY IS THE REALM OF STRATEGY
It may seem like a big jump to go from the study of language to strategy, but if you consider the
duplicity of the angler fish, for example, it is obvious that angling is a strategic way of getting food,
as distinct from the strategy of brute force and speed, used by the lion, for example. And if you think
about strategic maneuver in general, you will realize that strategy functions by means of the duplicity
of signs. Strategy manipulates signs duplicitously in such a way as to induce the enemy to bring about
his own defeat by committing the error of misreading the signs in the way intended by the strategist.
Thus the strategic dimension of interaction is an inherent facet of communication. Understanding and
misunderstanding, information and misinformation, cooperation and conflict are not two things but
are two aspects of one thing, namely, interaction in the realm of signs.
As with so many of the various facets of the realm of signs which we have observed here, we
cannot take time to fully explore the strategic dimension, but in the following pages as we explore the
duplicity of language, the fact is that the strategic dimension is always in the background, because in
exploring duplicity we are exploring strategy. In fact, the whole argument we are pursuing here is
itself a strategic maneuver whereby we exploit the duplicity of the word duplicity as a stratagem to
help us understand the duplicity of language. So it might be helpful by way of fleshing out the context
if we make a couple of explicit observations about the strategic dimension before we move on.
82
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Typology of Signs
Strategy
One of the problems that has always clouded the study of strategy is that there has been no
clear understanding of what strategy is and no clear notion of how to distinguish strategy from tactics.
Many scholars have so radically misunderstood strategy as to define it out of existence by defining it
as game theory. Edward Luttwak’s excellent study of the logic of strategy devotes an appendix to the
discussion of the problem of defining strategy.
What strategy is and how it is distinct from tactics is perfectly obvious if one looks at it in the
present framework. Strategy is the dimension of interaction that is a function of signs, which is a
function of duplicity, which is function of truth. Strategy is a function of truth. Tactics on the other
hand is a function of sheerly physical parameters such as force and speed. Tactics is the dimension of
interaction that takes place at the level of rocks. The realm of tactics is the realm of physics. The
realm of strategy is the realm of signs.
It is instructive in regard to this distinction, and in regard to the theory of language, to consider the etymology of the words “strategy” and “tactics”. “Tactics” was borrowed into English from
Greek takto,j. This word comes from the Proto-Indoeuropean root *tag- “to touch”. (By the way, this
is also the root of the technical term “tagmemics” which is the heart of Kenneth Pike's linguistic theory. It is also the root of the technical linguistic terms “syntagmatic”, and “syntax”.) Thus it is cognate with Latin tangere “to touch”, which was borrowed into English as “tangible”, the past participle
of which, tactilis (long a), was borrowed as English “tactile”. Therefore, “tactics” refers to that which
can be touched, which is physical things like rocks. And thus to do “tactics” is to govern the interaction of things in regard to their contact. (Contrast “politics”, which is the government of that which is
in the city, from Greek polis.) So the tactical dimension of interaction is that which involves direct
contact (the “tact” in “contact” is the same root), as distinct from interaction which takes place at a
distance through the medium of signs. So the principles which govern the tactics of a human being, or
any other living organism, are the same as the principles which govern a rock.
The word “strategy” was borrowed into English via French from Greek strathgo,j, which was
the title of a military rank more or less equivalent in reference, but not semantic value, to English
“general”. The word is a compound of two roots. The first root is from the Proto-Indoeuropean root
*ster- meaning “to spread”, which has a wide variety of descendants: English “straw” meaning “that
which is scattered”; Old English streon (long e) “offspring”, which became modern English “strain”;
the family of borrowings into English from Latin which includes “structure”, “construct”, “destroy”,
“instruct”, etc. The line of semantic descent we are particularly interested in includes English “strata”
and “substratum”, borrowed from Latin stratus, meaning “layers”, and is cognate with Greek stratos.
In Greek this word was used to refer to the military in general, as in stratocracy, which means literally “government of or by the strata”, or “government by the layers,” but figuratively it means “government by the military”. And of course the semantic connection is metonymic: in this usage the
word “strata” alludes to the rigid hierarchical stratification or layering that is characteristic of military
social structure. Thus the meaning of the “strat-” part of “strategy” that is relevant to the present discussion is “strata” or “layers”, like the ones we find in the military, and in language.
The “-eg-” part of the word “strat-eg-y” comes from the Proto-Indoeuropean root *ag- which
means “to move, drive, lead”. It shows up in English in many words borrowed from Latin, such as
“act”, “agent”, “ambiguous”, “squat”, etc., which are based on the Latin verb agere “to do, act, drive,
conduct, lead.” The cognate verb in Greek, agein, is also used in numerous forms which were borrowed into English, such as “agony”, “demagogue”, “protagonist”, “synagogue”, and of course,
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
83
The Theory of Signs
“strategy”. So “strategy” means “to lead or control the strata”. In Greek it was used to refer ambiguously to the military or to the leader of the military. And it does so by alluding to the hierarchical
structuring of the military corps. And, of course, the word “strategy” also refers at the same time in a
more general sense to any hierarchically stratified system, such as the realm of signs. So in the most
general sense “strategy” refers to the government of any hierarchically stratified system.
Another important feature of strategy, as we mentioned above, is this. If strategy and duplicity
are the same thing, then, since duplicity is a function of truth, strategy also must be a function of
truth. So the basic dynamic of strategy is the dynamic of the conflict between the true and the false.
Therefore, what is desired in strategy is to establish your own position on the solid ground of truth,
and to allow or induce your enemy to take a dubious position on the ground of some false belief.
That duplicity, or signs, is the essence of strategy was observed by Sun Tzu two millennia ago
in The Art of War (trans. Griffith 1971, p. 66), where he said,
All warfare is based on deception.
And, speaking of the enemy, Sun Tzu said, “When he is united, divide him”, which is equivalent to
our saying, “Divide and conquer”. And as we have been trying to explain, duplicity is the essence of
strategy by virtue of the fact that duplicity divides.
In his introduction to the above mentioned translation, Griffith shows that Mao Tse-Tung built
his strategic thinking on the foundation of Sun Tzu's ancient analysis.
Again paraphrasing Sun Tzu, Mao has said that war demands deception. 'It is often possible by adopting all kinds
of measures of deception to drive the enemy into the plight of making erroneous judgments and taking erroneous
actions, thus depriving him of his superiority and initiative.' The enemy is deceived by creating 'shapes' (Sun
Tzu) or 'illusions' (Mao). At the same time, one conceals his shape from the enemy...Deception is not enoughthe enemy's leaders must be confused; if possible driven insane. (p. 54)
(By the way, note that shapes and illusions, as referred to in this quote, are signs.) Or, as Sun Tzu said
in making this point explicit,
what is of supreme importance in war is to attack the enemy's strategy (p. 77).
Another point I would like to make about strategy in the context of duplicity is that, because
strategy is a function of truth, and because the true/false conflict is asymmetrical, there is an intrinsic
asymmetry in the dynamics of strategy. One manifestation of this asymmetry is this: A person has
control over what he himself believes, but he does not have control over what his adversary believes.
Therefore, one can bring about one's own defeat by believing what is false, but one cannot cause
one's enemy's defeat by strategy because one cannot cause one's enemy to believe what is false. One
can display various duplicitous lures and baits, but in the end strategic defeat is brought about by ones
own error, and one person cannot cause another to error. This is the point of the following from Sun
Tzu:
Anciently the skillful warriors first made themselves invincible and awaited the enemy's moment of vulnerability. (p. 85)
Invincibility depends on one's self; the enemy's vulnerability on him.
Therefore it is said that one may know how to win, but cannot necessarily do so.
And one final point about the strategic dimension, as a consequence of the intrinsic duplicity
of this realm of phenomena, the force of any act is intrinsically ambivalent. This is something like the
84
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Typology of Signs
second law of thermodynamics, which holds that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. This is why, as I pointed out at the beginning of Chapter 1, the more forcefully one tries to deny
something, the more it persuades others to believe it is true. Likewise, the more forcefully one tries to
persuade, the more doubt it creates. The more fulsome one's compliments, the more likely to be seen
as insulting. And on the contrary, one can damn with faint praise. Etc., etc.
What is going on here is a general phenomenon. As we have seen many times already, there is
an asymmetry in the way truth works. Therefore, as a consequence of the fact that force in the strategic realm is a function of truth, there is an asymmetry in the way force works. The force of truth does
not work the same way as physical force works. The force of truth is a function of the fact that truth is
what is, as opposed to the false, which is what is not. And what is not has no substance, no force, no
being. So from the point of view of truth, there is no contest. Truth already holds the indomitable
position of that which is, so there is no need for truth to struggle with the false. On the contrary, it is
the false that needs to struggle to maintain its ephemeral grip on being by using speed and force and
aggression and violence. So forcefulness, speed, aggression, and violence, are signs of the false. This
is why the more effort we exert in an act, the more it has the opposite of the effect we want it to have.
With this rather lengthy digression into the strategic facet of the realm of duplicity, we end our
explanation of how our position in regard to the duplicity of language fits into the context of the theory of signs.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
85
The Theory of Signs
86
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
CHAPTER 3
The Dialogical Context
In the last chapter we saw how the duplicitous theory of language is situated in the narrow
context of the theory of signs. In this chapter we will see how the duplicitous theory of language is
situated in the broad context of the human dialogue in general. In this chapter we will look down into
the depths of the human dialogue in two different senses. We will look at what would conventionally
be called the ancient historical roots of human dialogue and we will also look at what would conventionally be called the underlying psychic roots of the human dialogue. Or in other words, we will look
into the diachronic and the synchronic depths of the human dialogue. In terms of linguistic theory
these two dimensions of language are technically known as the syntagmatic dimension and the paradigmatic dimension.
Before we venture into the depths of the human dialogue, let us briefly review our position in
the theory of signs. The basic tenant of the theory of signs is that there is a difference between a thing
when it is regarded simply as it is and the same thing when it is taken as a sign of something else. The
difference is not in the thing, but in the way the thing is framed in the mind of the observer. In the
first case we frame our perception as if to say “A is A” and in the second case “A represents B.” In
the first case we take A as it is but in the second case we take A as a representation of something else.
So the crux of the difference is in the verb that describes how we take it: “is” vs. “represents.”
Now the verb “is” is a special type of verb. In grammatical terms it is not a predicate, but is
rather the copula. That is, it does not set a situation in motion by relating two different things, but
rather it links two aspects of the same thing together. And in this case, where the two are exactly the
same thing, A is A, the copular function is tautological. Thus “A is A” does nothing at all. But when
we predicate A of something else, as in “A represents B”, we divide between two aspects of the same
thing, i.e., we cut it. And so, the first way of framing the situation is non-dualistic, the second way of
framing the situation is dualistic.
As we have seen, the first situation, where the observer simply observes the thing as it is, has
been called “mirror-like perception.” The idea is that the image of the thing is to the mind of the
observer as the image of the thing would be to a mirror. That is, the appearance of the image is merely
an epiphenomenal event. Nothing happens to the mirror and nothing happens to the observer. In
short, nothing happens. The pragmatic vacuity of the non-dual situation has been the central theme of
On the Duplicity of Language (Draft of 10/14/99)
87
The Dialogical Context
Buddhist dialogue for more than two thousand years. For example, it was graphically expressed in an
old Zen poem (from Suzuki 1974, p. 132) that fits particularly well with the imagery we have been
using:
The bamboo-shadows move over the stone steps
as if to sweep them, but no dust is stirred;
The moon is reflected deep in the pool, but the
water shows no trace of its penetration.
In this situation, the image has no significance. The image is not taken as a sign. So the image of the
thing is nothing more than an image. And as an image it is an epiphenomenon, a shadow, a mere play
of light, or sound. As such, the image of the thing is an entirely dependent phenomenon, so when the
thing goes away or when the light goes away or when the angle of perception changes, the image
goes away, and there is no trace of it left behind in the mirror, or in the water, or in the mind. This
aspect of the non-dual situation was graphically expressed in another old Japanese poem, attributed to
the Buddhist nun, Chiyono. (Reps, p. 31)
In this way and that I tried to save the old pail.
Since the bamboo strip was weakening and about to break
Until at last the bottom fell out.
No more water in the pail!
No more moon in the water!
This is the sense in which this kind of perception has been likened to the reflection of an image in a
mirror, or in the water, or in the mind. In other words, the image has no substance or value, so the
image is neither good nor bad, so it does not set in motion a chain of implications. And so the image
does not call for any response or reaction. In short, the image is not taken as significant. It is not a
sign.
But if the image of the thing is taken as a sign, then that “taking” sets in motion a chain of
implications and subsequent reactions which lead to something else and away from the image of the
thing and from the thing itself. It is in reference to this departure that Peirce characterized the logical
operation of taking an image as a sign as a “cut.” To take something as a sign is to cut it apart from its
own intrinsic being. The thing comes to take on a derivative value as a function of the other thing of
which it is a sign, and it ceases to be valued for what it is. And thus the situation of the sign, which is
derived as a function of the cut, is duplicitous as between the thing qua thing and the thing qua sign.
In this way the cut engenders the duplicitous frame of reference in which the sign has its duplicitous
being. Thus the realm of signs is duplicitous, which is to say that the very geometry of the space in
which signs have their being is duplicitous. And, of course, all signs are duplicitous. And, since language is a system of signs, language is duplicitous. That is how the fact that language is duplicitous
fits into the theory of signs.
Now let us turn to the larger dialogical context. I want to show how the idea that language is
duplicitous is situated in the fabric of the ongoing human dialogue, which includes the historical dia-
88
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
logue, the scientific dialogue, the dialogue of the human science, and the linguistic dialogue. Obviously, it would be impossible to examine the whole of the fabric of the human dialogue, but for my
purposes it is sufficient to show that the same basic pattern keeps showing up over and over again in
different times, in different cultures, in different intellectual frames of reference.
There are two, confluent, purposes for showing how the present argument fits in the larger
dialogical context. One purpose is to demonstrate that, as I have repeatedly asserted, the idea that language is duplicitous is not new. To this end I will discuss various kinds of evidence which shows that
the three basic premises I have laid down - the premise that there is a generic human problem, the
premise that language is the crux of the generic human problem, and the premise that language is
problematic because it is duplicitous - have been discovered and described and explained over and
over and over again independently in different ways in different intellectual frameworks in different
languages and in different cultures at different times throughout history. I will cite a variety of texts,
some ancient and some not quite so ancient, which speak to the point I am trying to make in this
book. In some cases these texts speak to the point with the force of rational argument, in some cases
they speak to the point with the force of ancient authority, but in all cases the texts speak to the point
with the force of manifestation through the very fabric of the texts themselves.
Let me put it another way. The point of this book is that language is duplicitous. But another
way of stating the same point is this: Human dialogue is duplicitous. Thus I am saying that all dialogue, small or large, old or new, playful or serious, is a fabric that is woven by the interplay of the
conflict between the desire to sustain the symbolic facade and the inescapable fact that, in spite of the
fact that language is duplicitous, all language, and all behavior, necessarily conveys truth. If you look
at it right. On one hand, all dialogue takes place in language, so all dialogue manifests and thus testifies to the duplicity of language, explicitly or implicitly, whether it intends to or not. And on the other
hand, in regard to the question of the duplicity of language, it is impossible not to speak the truth.
And in general it is impossible not to speak the truth. A true statement coveys the truth, and a false
statement conveys the truth, if you look at it right. Thus in a nutshell:
ALL DIALOGUE IS TRUE.
If you look at it right. And at the same time, all dialogue can be misunderstood. If you look at it right.
So the human problem, contra Diogenes, who you will recall searched for someone who
spoke the truth by means of a lantern in broad daylight, is not to find someone who speaks the truth,
as if truth were rare and difficult to find, but to figure out how to swim in the dialogical river of virtual truth in which we find our selves being swept along. Diogenes’ ridiculous error is one of fundamental principle, which should be obvious to anyone: you cannot find the light in the light by means
of the light. At least the principle was obvious to Mumon, one of the patriarchs of Chinese Buddhism,
who expressed it in a lecture he gave in 1228 A.D. (Reps, p. 88) as follows. (p. 96)
It is too clear and so it is hard to see.
A dunce once searched for a fire with a lighted lantern.
Had he known what fire was,
He could have cooked his rice much sooner.
Or to put it in terms of the theory of signs, light cannot function as a sign of light in the medium of
light. In the medium of light only non-light, i.e. darkness, can function as a sign of light. From this it
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
89
The Dialogical Context
follows that, if we insist on trying to find the light in the medium of light by means of signs of light,
then we must not look at the light itself, but at the shadows cast by the light. Therefore, while Diogenes might have ridiculed the Greeks for reading about the suffering of Odysseus while ignoring
their own suffering, that is precisely what we are going to do in the first part of this chapter.
Thus the various pieces of dialogue that I will cite below speak to the most fundamental question being addressed here, which is this: Should language be framed, in accord with the conventional
view, as a physical phenomenon that takes place in the chronological (old/new) paradigm? Or should
language be framed, as I am arguing here, as a duplicitous epiphenomenon that takes place in the veridical (true/false) paradigm?
The other purpose for looking at how our argument fits in the larger dialogical context is to
flesh out our understanding of language and of the duplicity of language. In as much as the texts I will
discuss below manifest and/or explain the duplicity of language, they contribute to our understanding
on the several different levels mentioned above.
The Syntagmatic Dimension of the Human Dialogue
I will begin with a discussion of a wonderful book entitled The March of Folly: From Troy to
Vietnam which was written by Barbra Tuchman. In this book, she argues as a historian on the basis of
historical evidence that a perverse tendency to behave foolishly has been manifest in mankind
throughout history. And we will pay particular attention to her explanation of this persistent problem,
which she couched in terms of the ancient semi-mythological story of the Trojan horse. We will consider this ancient Greek story in some detail, as well as Plato’s allegory of the cave, in order to show
that these ancient Greek texts take the same position in regard to language and the human situation as
we are trying to establish here.
And then we will look in the same spirit at the Bible, not as a religious text, but as an ancient
Hebrew text, more or less contemporaneous with the texts of the ancient Greek poets. We will see
that this ancient text also takes the same basic position in regard to language and the human situation.
The March of Folly
Barbara Tuchman’s survey of The March of Folly through history and across cultures testifies
to the validity of the basic premises of our point of view. She shows that history testifies in the affirmative to the question of whether there is a generic human problem. The whole point of The March of
Folly, as well as much of her earlier work, is to assert and give evidence from various cultures and
across the broad sweep of history that there is and has always been a chronic and universal human
problem. She refers to the problem variously as “folly”, “perversity”, and “wooden-headedness”, or
more explicitly, “the pursuit of policy contrary to self-interest”.
In regard to the question, “What is the root of human problem?”, her answer is not so explicit
and not very satisfactory. She gives two kinds of answers, the one we will be most interested in is
veiled in ancient Greek semi-mythological imagery. In these imaginary or metaphorical terms, her
answer is that the Trojan Horse is the prototype of the human problem. Although this is not the kind
of answer which we are conditioned to look for in this modern scientific era,1 as it happens, though
90
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Syntagmatic Dimension of the Human Dialogue
not by coincidence, this ancient imagery still resonates with our unconscious awareness of the roots
of the human problem. We realize that the story of the Trojan Horse has the ring of truth; it is this
realization which has caused this ancient image to retain its vitality even in the modern mind, and it is
this realization which caused Tuchman to choose this image as the prototype of the human problem.
In as much as the resonance of the image of the Trojan Horse is a function of its underlying harmony
with the deepest roots of the problem of human folly, it can be exploited as a vehicle by which we can
metaphorically penetrate the veil of obscurity surrounding the human problem and get at the root of
the human problem. In other words, although her answer is merely an image, it is an image that is
deeply insightful, if you understand it properly. So when we have prepared our position sufficiently,
we will return to use the image of Trojan horse as the strategic machine by which we will expose and
attack the root of the human problem. In the meantime, let us consider Barbara Tuchman's testimony
as to the historical dimension of The March of Folly.
There is “A phenomenon noticeable throughout history regardless of place or period,” she
declares in her opening line, which “is the pursuit by governments of policies contrary to their own
interests.” A little later (p. 6) she reiterates the theme in other words.
Folly's appearance is independent of era or locality; it is timeless and universal, although the habits and beliefs of
a particular time and place determine the form it takes. It is unrelated to type of regime: monarchy, oligarchy and
democracy produce it equally. Nor is it peculiar to nation or class.
We should point out that, although she focuses upon the governmental level of human behavior, she
does not intend to imply that the persistent march of folly is only a function of government and is not
found in individuals. The evidence that she does not hold this view is two-fold. First, in at least one
place (p. 6) she presupposes that folly is an individual trait.
It may be asked why, since folly or perversity is inherent in individuals, should we expect anything else of governments? The reason for concern is that folly in government has more impact on more people than individual
follies, and therefore governments have a greater duty to act according to reason.
Second, as we all know, in many cases there is no practical difference between the individual level of
behavior and the governmental level of behavior, because in some cases an individual is the government, and Tuchman cites several such cases. And in other cases, such as the United States, the head of
the government is an individual who can commit the whole body politic to foolish policies. She cites
the folly of Charles XII of Sweden, Napoleon, and Hitler, all of whom committed the blunder of
invading Russia “despite the disasters incurred by each predecessor”. She also cites the individual/governmental folly of Montezuma, Chaing Kai-sheck, Mao Tse-tung, Rehoboam (the King of
Israel who succeeded Solomon), among others. A notable example on a more personal level is the
folly of Philip III, King of Spain,
who is said to have died of a fever he contracted from sitting too long near a hot brazier, helplessly overheating
himself because the functionary whose duty it was to remove the brassier, when summoned, could not be found.
(p. 8)
1. In the physical sciences we think of cause and effect, but in the human sciences, or at least in the duplicitous human
sciences, we think variously of type and token, or prototype and type, or precedent and subsequent. Thus in explaining
some characteristic of a dialogue we do not say “A caused B”, but rather “B conformed to prototype A”, or “B was
governed by precedent A.” The symbolic realm is a matter of form and not substance, so symbolic things are not
caused, but rather things conform.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
91
The Dialogical Context
Thus, although she recognizes that there is human folly on the individual level, she chose to
focus on folly at the government level because she considered it to be more egregious, and thus of
greater dramatic force.
In the course of developing her argument, as we have mentioned, she cites examples from various corners of the world, but the main body of evidence is drawn from the history of the European
cultural sphere beginning with the Trojan wars and ending with the American folly in Vietnam (hence
the subtitle). I will not attempt to reiterate this evidence, for I could not do it justice. But I can say that
in my view the depth and scope and persistence of the historical march of folly, as she lays it out,
compels one to conclude that there is a chronic human problem. The folly of man as it has unfolded in
the history of western civilization (not that it is limited to western civilization) could not be more concisely and forcefully expressed than this:
For 2,500 years, political philosophers from Plato and Aristotle through Thomas Aquinas, Machiavelli, Hobbes,
Locke, Rousseau, Jefferson, Madison and Hamilton, Nietzsche and Marx, have devoted their thinking to the
major issues of ethics, sovereignty, the social contract, the rights of man, the corruption of power, the balance
between freedom and order. Few, except Machiavelli, who was concerned with government as it is, not as it
should be, bothered with mere folly, although folly has been a chronic and pervasive problem. (p. 8)
Here we see the greatest folly of all: that so little effort has been expended on most dominant and
most tragic problem of the human situation, which is that “folly has been a chronic and pervasive
problem”. And thus we have Barbara Tuchman's answer to our first question: Yes, there is a generic
human problem.
Unfortunately, when it comes to the next question, the question of how to make sense of this
generic human problem, and how to rectify it, her bold and forceful argument gets bogged down in
the quagmire of conventional thinking. I remember vividly how disappointed I felt in first reading her
book, after having been enthused by her sweeping survey of the march of folly throughout history,
only to be disappointed by her obviously superficial explanations and by the depressing moral conclusion she came to. The only promising note in regard to explanation, as I have mentioned, was her
suggestion that the Trojan Horse is the prototype of the human problem, but such an explanation,
being symbolic, is so impractical as to be useless, unless of course one is able to appreciate the subversive implications that are hidden in that symbol.
Before we get to those hidden implications, let me first illustrate the superficiality of her
intended explanation. In one place she says that
wooden-headedness...consists in assessing a situation in terms of preconceived fixed notions while ignoring or
rejecting any contrary signs. It is acting according to wish while not allowing oneself to be deflected by the facts.
(p. 7)
This analysis of the human problem is valid, but it does not get one very far in understanding the
problem, because the question then becomes why do people use preconceived notions and why do
they ignore or reject contrary signs and why do they prefer wish to fact. In the end she reverts to the
standard conventional explanation of human folly.
If pursuing disadvantage after the disadvantage has become obvious is irrational, then rejection of reason is the
prime characteristic of folly. (p. 380)
So then the question is why man persistently rejects reason? Her answer is because reason is
more often than not overpowered by non-rational human frailties - ambition, anxiety, status-seeking, face-saving, illusions, self-delusions, fixed prejudices.
92
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Syntagmatic Dimension of the Human Dialogue
Thus she explains man's folly in terms of the simpleminded conventional conceptualization of a conflict between the forces of good and the forces of evil in man's nature: rationality and reason are the
good side of man, the side that leads to right thinking and right behavior, whereas feelings, emotions,
desires, etc., the bodily urges, are the evil side, the side that leads wrong thinking and wrong behavior. And in terms of this dynamic, she can explain man's inclination to folly as a consequence of the
fact that the evil side of the conflict generally dominates. On one side, she says,
Although the structure of human thought is based on logical procedure from premise to conclusion, it is not proof
against the frailties and the passions.
And this is so, presumably, because the frail side of man, the sick side, the emotional side, is the
stronger. Even Plato, she says, in spite of his desire to think otherwise, ultimately had to
acknowledge that his fellow-beings were anchored in the life of feelings jerked like puppets by the strings of
desires and fears that made them dance. When desire disagrees with the judgment of reason, he said, there is a
disease of soul... (p. 381)
So her explanation not only does not bring us any closer to understanding the generic human problem
which she so provocatively exposed, but it leads to the dismal conclusion that
we cannot reasonably expect much improvement. We can only muddle on as we have done in those same three or
four thousand years, through patches of brilliance and decline, great endeavor and shadow. (p. 387)
In sum then, her conclusion is that there is a human problem, which is the problem of chronic
and pervasive folly, but three thousand years of history prove that we can not do anything about it.
This is tantamount to concluding that the question of what the human problem is is unanswerable.
Thus she concludes, disappointingly, in agreement with the conventional view that, unlike the rest of
the universe, the human problem is incoherent, lawless, unintelligible. Therefore, as unpleasant as it
is, we must submit to the burden of our human nature, which is the chronic tendency to folly,
wooden-headedness, and perversity. We are doomed to an endless river of suffering, striving, and
failing.
Socrates’ Allegory of the Shadows in the Cave
But speaking of shadows, as she did in the above quote, I should like to mention, by way of
transition to the more optimistic theory implicit in the story of the Trojan Horse, that the above dismal
theory of man's situation, and the dismal conclusion which follows from it, seems to be inconsistent
with the theory of man's situation as portrayed in the famous parable of the cave in Book VII of
Plato's Republic. I repeat and incorporate the essence of this allegory here as a way of looking at
man's situation which counterbalances the foregoing and provides a more satisfactory framework for
making sense of the human problem. Plato has Socrates speaking in the following dialogue (quoted
from Plato translated by Jowett and edited by Louis Loomis, Book VII beginning on page 398):
And now let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened. Behold! human beings living in an underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den; here they
have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only
see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is
blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a
low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which they
show the puppets.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
93
The Dialogical Context
I see.
And do you see men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals made
of wood and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall? Some of them talking, others silent.
You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, and they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the
opposite wall of the cave?
...To them the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.
...And now look again, and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their
error. At first, when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and
walk and look towards the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to
see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then conceive someone saying to him
that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now, when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is
turned towards more real existence, he has a clearer vision - what will be his reply? And you may further imagine
that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them, - will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now
shown to him?
...And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn
away to take refuge in the objects of vision which he can see, and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer
than the things which are now being shown to him?
...And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he is
forced into the presence of the sun himself, is he not likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches the
light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are not called realities.
He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper world. And first he will see the shadows best, next
the reflections of men and other objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the
light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven; and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than
the sun or the light of the sun by day?
...Last of all he will be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the water, but he will see him in his
own proper place, and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he is.
... And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the den and his fellow prisoners, do you not
suppose that he would felicitate himself on the change, and pity them?
...And if they were in the habit of conferring honors among themselves on those who were quickest to observe
the passing shadows and to remark which of them went before, and which followed after, and which were
together; and who were therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care
for such honors and glories, or envy the possessors of them?
...Imagine once more such a one coming suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not
be certain to have his eyes full of darkness?
...And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in measuring the shadows with the prisoners who had never
moved out of the den, while his sight was still weak, and before his eyes had become steady (and the time which
would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be very considerable), would he not be ridiculous? Men
would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was better not even to think of
ascending; and if any one tried to loose another and lead him up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and
they would put him to death.
Without getting tangled up in the details of Socrates' allegory, let us try to briefly interpret it in terms
of our basic framework. With regard to our first question, it is clear that Socrates agrees that there is a
94
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Syntagmatic Dimension of the Human Dialogue
human problem. And with regard to our second question, it is also clear that he disagrees with Tuchman and the conventional theory of man's folly: He does not think that the human problem is a function of a fundamental conflict in man's nature between good and evil, nor a conflict between
rationality and emotion, nor a conflict between mind and body. Quite the contrary, Socrates would
say that these conflicts are not the cause of man's erroneous thinking, but that they arise as the results
of erroneous thinking. The root of man's problem as portrayed in Socrates' allegory is not conflict, but
error: the error of preferring to look at images and at shadows of images, instead of looking at the real
thing.
According to Socrates' allegory, man's chronic error does take place in the framework of a
certain kind of conflict, but one must take great care in thinking about this conflict, because it is a
very strange kind of conflict. What is at issue is the relationship between shadow and substance,
between the image of something and the thing itself, or, in terminology that brings it into the framework of the theory of signs, between sign and referent. So one must bear in mind that these two different types of things could not possibly be in conflict in reality, for one is a real phenomenon while the
other is merely an epi-phenomenon. In general the second is totally subordinate to the first i.e, the
shadow is subordinate to the substance, the image to the thing itself, the sign to the referent. What
makes it a relationship of conflict is that the two things struggle for dominance in the mind's eye,
which can only have one of them in view at a time, because the mind’s eye is monocular by nature,
abhorring duality as vehemently as physical nature abhors a vacuum. And what makes this such a
strange kind of conflict is that it is asymmetrical, whereas the normal kind of conflict is symmetrical.
In the normal kind of conflict the same kinds of things struggle with each other on a more or less
equal footing, as for example, two wrestlers or two boxers or two football teams or two armies or two
goats or two lawyers, etc. In terms of the usual idea of conflict, it would make no sense to oppose two
totally different kinds of things such as a lawyer and a goat. In the usual idea of opposition, tomorrow
can be opposed to today, but tomorrow cannot be opposed to hunger. As Napoleon said, you cannot
kill an idea with a cannon. But this sort of asymmetry is the essence of the kind of conflict which
Plato posits as the root of man's folly; shadow and substance, image and object, sign and referent, are
totally different kinds of things. So if we are to think of them in terms of opposition and conflict, they
cannot be conceptualized as being opposed in the usual frame of reference.
It is impossible that these things could be opposed in nature; how can a shadow be in conflict
with anything of substance? In what sense can a shadow struggle with substance? And if not in
nature, then where are they opposed? Where does this conflict take place? It takes place in the mind's
eye. The conflict is only possible because, in some sense or other, a person can take an image as reality. Then that image acquires at least a conditional kind of reality, and thus it can be in conflict with
what is unconditionally real. Thus in the mind's eye an image can attain hypothetical reality or imaginary reality or virtual reality, all of which are, of course, not reality at all. Therefore, in order to make
sense of this sort of opposition and conflict properly, we must develop a concept of opposition and
conflict which is appropriate for this very strange kind of hypothetical, or imaginary, or false, reality.
Of course we already have the perfect concept at hand, which is embodied in the word “duplicity”.
And now that we have come to the concept of duplicity at the root of the problem of human folly as
portrayed in Socrates' allegory, the stage is set for us to consider the story of the Trojan Horse as a
symbol of the root of man’s folly.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
95
The Dialogical Context
The Trojan Horse
Not only does Socrates' allegory of the cave contradict Tuchman's explanation of the cause of
human folly and her dismal conclusion as to the hopelessness of man's situation, but she also indirectly contradicts herself in the following sense. As I mentioned above, she gives two different kinds
of explanations, the useless and dismal one outlined above comes at the end of her account of The
March of Folly, and she has a completely different kind of explanation at the beginning. She begins
her account of The March of Folly by recounting the ancient Greek story of the Wooden Horse,
which she posits as the beginning of human folly, not as the cause of folly in the usual scientific
sense, but as the prototype of folly.1
Although this story is one of the most famous stories throughout the Western cultural sphere,
for the benefit of those who have only a vague idea of the story, and for the benefit of those who have
never heard the story, and because we want to be sure we all have the same idea in mind when we use
the Wooden Horse as the typological explanation of human folly, we will recount the basic points of
the story as told by Tuchman. This is all the more advisable because the idea that there is “a” story is
something of a convenient fiction; As is always the case with traditional phenomena, such as folk
tales, mythology, etc. there are always a seemingly endless collection of variants around a core idea,
and we want to sort through the variants so that we can focus on the core idea.
The situation in which the Wooden Horse comes into play is as follows. In ancient times (or
equivalently “Once upon a time...”, since it does not matter at all whether these things actually happened or not) there had been a long and bitter war between the Greeks and the Trojans. After ten years
of indecisive fighting, the Greeks, who were laying siege to the city of Troy, lost their will to fight
when Paris, the Prince of Troy, killed Achilles, who was the Greek's greatest fighter. The Greeks
wanted to give up and go home when
Odysseus proposes a last effort to take Troy by a stratagem - the building of a wooden horse large enough to hold
twenty... armed men concealed inside. His plan is for the rest of the army to pretend to sail for home while in fact
hiding their ships offshore behind the island of Tenedos. The Wooden Horse will carry and inscription dedicating
it to Athena as the Greek's offering in the hope of her aid in ensuring their safe return home. The figure is
intended to excite the veneration of the Trojans, to whom the horse is a sacred animal and who may well be
moved to conduct it to their own temple of Athena within the city. If so, the sacred veil said to surround and protect the city will be torn apart, the concealed Greeks will emerge, open the gates to their fellow, summoned by
signal, and seize their final opportunity. (p. 38)
When the Trojans discovered one morning that the Greeks had departed and left this Wooden
Horse behind, they were divided as to how to evaluate the situation. One party, the majority, taking
the situation at face value, saw that the Greeks had gone, and thus assumed that they had given up.
And taking the Wooden Horse and the inscription on the horse at face value, they believed the horse
to have been constructed for the purpose declared in the inscription; they believed that it was a sacred
image dedicated to Athena, and therefore, they felt obliged to bring the Horse to the temple of Athena
in the city, even though it was so large that
1. What is meant by “cause” in the usual scientific sense is physical cause. That is, the scientific idea of cause is as cause
is conceptualized in the prototypical science, which is the science of physics. Hence scientific cause is conventionally
equated with physical cause, the prototypical kind of cause. Nevertheless, there is nothing mysterious about this other
kind of causality. The kind of “causality” that a prototype exercises is well known, since it is the meaning of the word
“prototype”. It is also called “stereotype”, “preconceived idea”, “prejudice”, etc., or from a different point of view,
“tradition”, “convention”, etc.
96
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Syntagmatic Dimension of the Human Dialogue
the walls must be breached or, in another version, the lintel of the Scean Gate removed to allow it to enter. This
is the first warning omen, for it has been prophesied that if ever the Scean lintel is taken down, Troy will fall.
And this superficial party persisted in this foolish view in spite of this portentous omen, and numerous other contrary indications, not least of which was the fact that in those days Greeks were famous
as liars and bearers of false gifts.
Then comes the famous warning of Laocoon,
Either the Greeks are hiding in this monster,
Or it is some trick of war, a spy or engine,
To come down on the city. Tricky business
Is hiding in it. Do not trust it, Trojans;
Do not believe this horse. Whatever may be,
I fear the Greeks, even when bringing gifts.
Then he hurled his spear at the Horse, which caused those within to moan in fear. But just as Laocoon
was on the verge of convincing the majority, the second layer of the Greek stratagem unfolded.
Guards drag in Sinon, an ostensibly terrified Greek who pretends he has been left behind through the enmity of
Odysseus, but who has actually been planted by Odysseus as part of his plan. Asked by Priam to tell the truth
about the Wooden Horse, Sinon swears it is a genuine offering to Athena which the Greeks deliberately made so
huge so the Trojans would not take it into their city because that would signify an ultimate Trojan victory. (p. 40,
italics in the original)
This doubly duplicitous framing of the situation undermined Laocoon's warning, and just as the
crowed was wavering between the truth and the fraud, the most mysterious and decisive event took
place. Just as Laocoon asserts that Sinon's story is just another part of the Greek trick,
two horrible serpents rise in gigantic black spirals out of the waves and advance across the sands...As the crowd
watches paralyzed in terror, they make straight for Laocoon and his two young sons, “fastening their fangs in
those poor bodies,” coiling around the father's waist and neck and arms and, as he utters strangled inhuman cries,
crush him to death. The appalled watchers are now nearly all moved to believe that the ghastly event is Laocoon's punishment for sacrilege in striking what must indeed be a sacred offering.
By this the majority were persuaded to take the horse at face value and they set about to bring it into
the city. But there were still more warnings.
Four times at the Gate's threshold, the Horse comes to a halt and four times from the interior the clang of arms
sounds, yet though the halts are an omen, the Trojans press on, “heedless and blind with frenzy”. They breach the
walls and the Gate, unconcerned at thus tearing the sacred veil because they believe its protection is no longer
needed.
That night they celebrated their symbolic victory over the Greeks, which had been symbolically
enacted by laying claim to ownership of and incorporating the foreign symbol by bringing it within
their walls, by feasting and drinking wine.
The final warning of their folly was given by Cassandra that night.
“O miserable people,” she now cries, “poor fools, you do not understand at all your evil fate.” They are acting
senselessly, she tells them, toward the very thing “that has your destruction within it.”
But they do not heed her warning, and they finally suffer the consequences of their gullibility.
Heavy with wine, the Trojans sleep. Sinon creeps from the hall and opens the trap door of the Horse to release
Odysseus and his companions, some of whom, cooped up in the blackness, have been weeping under the tension
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
97
The Dialogical Context
and “trembling in their legs.” They spread through the city to open the remaining gates while Sinon signals to the
ships with a flaming torch. In ferocious triumph when the forces are joined, the Greeks fall upon the sleeping foe,
slaughtering right and left, burning houses, looting treasure, raping the women... The tragedy is total... Sacked
and burned, Troy is left in ruins. Mount Ida groans, the river Zanthus weeps. (p. 42)
There we have the tragic story of the Wooden Horse, which is, in Tuchman's words, “the culminating instrumentality for the fall”, “the device that finally accomplished the fall of Troy”. And
looking back over the whole story, looking at the beginning from the end, we can see that what makes
it so bitterly tragic is not just that the Trojans suffered defeat, though, of course, that is lamentable.
Nor is the most bitter part of the tragedy the fact that they brought on their own defeat by their own
gullibility, though that is galling enough in itself. The cruelest ironic twist in the stupidity of the Trojans is that they had already won the war at the very beginning of the story, before the Wooden Horse
came into play; but in their blind folly they betrayed the victory which was ready to fall into their
hands. After ten years of war, the Greeks had been unable to penetrate the sacred veil that protected
the city of Troy, they had been unable to breach the walls by dint of force, and they had suffered
grievously trying, so the Greeks were ready to give up and go home; but then, with victory in hand,
the Trojans subverted their invulnerable position by taking the enemy's gift at face value. They
believed their enemy's signs and symbols. They believed their enemy's representations. They swallowed his story, and thus, in Lincoln's apt perversion of the traditional aphorism, they managed to
snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.
And the final twist of the knife is they need not have done anything at all to have gained victory. In fact, doing nothing would have ensured victory, but then, as Sinon cleverly pointed out to
them, there would not have been a symbolic representation of their victory. Thus the crux of their
error is that they wanted so much to have a tangible, visible, symbolic display of their victory, that
they were willing to sacrifice victory so that they could enact a display of victory. Thus in the final
analysis, they exchanged the symbol of victory for the reality of victory. This is the crux of the prototype of human folly, as portrayed in the story of the Wooden Horse.
Now that we have the whole story laid out before us, the question is how shall we take this
story? Shall we take it at face value, as the Trojans did? There is no question that it is a thundering
good drama, full of violence and intrigue, but it also has “redeeming social value”, as the censors put
it, the blood and treachery being tastefully played out in the context of subtle twists of irony and mystery, nobility and majesty, heroism and stupidity, etc. Thus, it would make a good movie, and it has.
For this reason, we could take the story as being intended for our pleasure, as the Trojans took the
Horse.
But that would be an error, because the point of the story of the Wooden Horse is, and has
always been, not just to recount an ancient and/or mythological drama for the sake of entertainment.
The point of the story is to convey a lesson in the form of a prototype of human folly, or in more
explicit terms, to convey a prototype of the error which lies at the root of the chronic human tendency
to pursue policy that is contrary to self-interest.
To take this story as entertainment, or, for that matter, as history, or as Greek mythology, or as
a story about Trojans and Greeks, or as a story about the Wooden Horse, or about a real horse, or as a
story about war, etc., would be to commit the Trojan error, which is the error of taking images and
symbols at face value. It is, of course, true that this story touches upon all of these things, but it does
so just as the Wooden Horse touches upon horses. That is, this story is not a historical object or a
mythological object or a Greek object, but a symbolic object. The story is a symbolic object every bit
as much as the Wooden Horse was a symbolic object, but it differs from the symbolic object offered
98
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Syntagmatic Dimension of the Human Dialogue
to the Trojans in that this object, the story, happens to be constructed, not of wood, but of bits and
pieces of history and mythology and, probably, more than a dash of imagination. This story is constructed of images of people and cities, of images of war and peace, of images of guile and gullibility,
of images of snakes and horses. Thus to get the point of this story, to understand, not just what this
symbol refers to, but what it is doing in the pragmatic sense, one must resist the temptation to take it
at face value; one must look inside. So let us do that.
The basic point of this story is that when dealing with signs and symbols, we must bear in
mind that there are things going on at two levels: there is a superficial level and a deeper level. While
the Wooden Horse does refer to horses, that is only its superficial function, which is technically
known as “semantics”. To see the deepest function of signs and symbols, one must look at them at the
level of strategic function, which is technically known as “pragmatics”, where the question is not,
“What does a sign refer to?”, or “What does it mean?”, but “What does it do?”. At the pragmatic
level, the Wooden Horse was intended to be an instrument by which the Greeks could breach the
walls of the city with guile, where physical force had proven inadequate.
In conclusion, then, in the context of the story, the point of the Wooden Horse is that the Trojans were not aware of the fact that the Wooden Horse was both a symbol and a duplicitous stratagem,
until it had already robbed them of victory and brought about their destruction. In the broader context
of real life, the story about the Wooden Horse is itself a Wooden Horse, being both a symbol and a
duplicitous stratagem, intended to surreptitiously convey the warning message within our gates that
all symbols are duplicitous stratagems. Thus the following is the key point in the story of the Wooden
Horse:
THE WOODEN HORSE IS A SYMBOL OF THE SYMBOL
Closing the circle of reasoning then, if the story of the Wooden Horse is a prototype of human folly,
that is, a prototype of the human tendency to error by adopting policy contrary to self-interest, then
the symbol is the device by which that error is implemented. Therefore, if we want to understand and
rectify the human tendency to error, then we ought to heed the warning implications of the Wooden
Horse, and acting contrary to conventional wisdom, we ought to look a gift horse in the mouth. We
ought to look under the surface of the symbol by trying to figure out what the symbol is made of, trying to figure out what function it is intended to perform, and how it works. And we ought to frame our
investigation with the presumption that the symbol is like the Wooden Horse in that there is something nefarious going under the surface. To put it in the technical terms I am trying to establish here,
we ought to frame our investigation of the symbol with the assumption that the symbol is a duplicitous stratagem.
Before we quit the story of the Wooden Horse, we ought to make mention of the fact that there
are numerous other elements in the story the pragmatic implications of which it would be interesting
and instructive to explore by way of fleshing out our understanding of the story as the prototype of
human folly, such as the snakes, the reverse psychology of Sinon, the “blind frenzy” with which the
Trojans conveyed the Wooden Horse into their city, etc. Unfortunately, we cannot pursue all of the
threads of the story here, but there is one element which is crucial to the understanding of any story,
which I think therefore we ought to make clear, and that is the question of who the surreptitious warning message conveyed by the story of the Wooden Horse is aimed at. To whom is the story
addressed?
As we saw in our discussion of the point of the Wooden Horse, it is an error to assume that
Wooden Horses and other signs perform just one function. In the context of the story, the Wooden
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
99
The Dialogical Context
Horse is a representation of a horse, but at a deeper level it also is a representation of victory, and at a
yet deeper level it is a nefarious strategic instrument. In relation to our context some thousands of
years after the events, the Wooden Horse is a representation of the symbol, but it is also a nefarious
strategic instrument, in a different sense as we explained above.
So too, it is an error to assume that such a story has just one addressee. As with every facet of
the sign, there are layers and layers of addressees. In the context of the story, the various warnings
were addressed to the Trojans collectively. The horse was chosen as the shape of the symbolic offering in order to appeal to the Trojans because the horse was a sacred animal to them. And the Horse as
a duplicitous stratagem was aimed at the defeat of the Trojans. Therefore, in the most narrow and literal interpretation, the story would appear to be directed at the people of the city of Troy. However,
because the Trojans have been dead for thousands of years, such a narrow and literal interpretation is
totally irrelevant today. Do we now recount the story for the benefit or the detriment of those who are
dead? Of course not. But if the story is not of relevance to Trojans, then to whom is it relevant?
Some have taken the story as a generalized warning about Greeks, which one might paraphrase as follows: “Beware of Greeks bearing gifts”. But this is not the thrust of the story; at the pragmatic level of analysis it is not really directed at or referring to either Trojans or Greeks. They are just
the actors who happen to play the role of the gullible victim and duplicitous assailant. But these same
roles are more or less continuously played out all over the world in all sorts of interactive situations.
The same story could be played out with totally different dramatis personae; it could as well be
played by Greeks and Macedonians, or Chinese and Koreans, etc. So it would be an error to take the
story at face value as being about Trojans and Greeks.
Likewise, the symbol of the City of Troy does not refer either to Troy in particular nor to any
other city, nor any other collective political entity. (Although the word for “city” in Greek is “polis”,
which is the root of the word “political”.) In other words, the story is literally about a political entity,
but that is only the imagery the story is clothed in. That is its superficial camouflage. The story is
about a city, just as it is about a horse. As a duplicitous stratagem, the story is surreptitiously
addressed to and is about the individual human being. Therefore, to get the point of the story the individual must look at the story at the level of analysis where he places himself in the story, not just as
one of the individual Trojans, but as the City of Troy. To understand the story, one must look at it
from a point of view that is framed by the premise, “I am the City of Troy”.
Of course, this way of looking at the story is unconventional. It is even ungrammatical,
because “I am the City of Troy” is an ungrammatical sentence. And so when we look beneath the surface of the story we come to the realization that the conflict in the context of the story between the
Trojans and the Greeks is paralleled by the conflict of points of view in present reality in the mind of
the hearer of the story between the superficial conventional point of view and the deeper pragmatic,
or strategic point of view. And we also realize that there are powerful conventional sanctions against
taking this anticonventional point of view. Nevertheless, we must also realize that there are countervailing forces, which make this broader and deeper point of view preferable, namely that it is the
more correct, the more natural, the more comprehensive, the more dominant, and thus the strategically more advantageous point of view.
I do not want to justify this assertion by arguing directly in its support, but prefer to let the
advantage of this point of view become evident by the fruit that it will bear in insight and understanding as we proceed to explore the human situation from this point of view. As an expository expedient,
by way of preliminary justification, however, I will briefly sketch some of the ways one could argue
in support of this point of view. For example, one could argue on the grounds of the story of the
Wooden Horse, that people would not find this story so interesting and entertaining thousands of
100
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Syntagmatic Dimension of the Human Dialogue
years after the events, unless they felt way down deep that it has relevance to their individual lives in
the present. And, how else could you explain our feeling that it is relevant to our vital interests unless
you assume that we unconsciously equate the folly of the City of Troy with our own personal folly?
Or one could argue on more general grounds, in accord with the biblical theory of symbolism,
which is reiterated in different forms throughout the Bible, that “the letter kills, whereas the spirit
gives life”. The point of this assertion is the same as that of the Wooden Horse, namely, that one
should not take symbols at their literal value, which is their face value, because taking that point of
view kills, as the experience of the Trojans teaches us. And this is not just what the Bible preaches,
but it is also what the Bible practices. That is, it is a plain and obvious fact that the text of the Bible is
wildly incoherent, when seen from the literal point of view; and thinking that the literal point of view
is the correct point of view, many people conclude that the Bible is nothing more than a jumble of
primitive myths and tales stuck together with the glue of imagination and wishful thinking. But this
way of thinking not only fails to appreciate the coherence which is in the text at a deeper level of analysis, but it also fails to appreciate what the textual style of the Bible is doing on the strategic level,
and it is this latter point upon which we want to focus here.
In general, the pragmatic force of the textual style of the Bible induces the reader to move
from the literal point of view to the deeper point of view. It works in two ways at the same time. On
the negative side, it is not an accident that the text of the bible is incoherent from the literal point of
view accident, but rather the text is intentionally anti-literal. And it is not surreptitiously anti-literal,
hidden under a facade of coherence, like the Wooden Horse, but rather it is openly and ruthlessly antiliteral right on the surface. In this way, the text forces a conflict in the reader's mind between the literal point of view and the deeper point of view, and thus, if one's desire to make sense of the text is
stronger than one's allegiance to the conventional literal point of view, it forces one to abandon the
conventional literal point of view as inadequate. Then, at the deeper level of analysis on finds that
there is coherence in the text of the Bible.
This deep kind of coherence is not like that of a scientific text, or a legal text, but like that of a
joke in that the point is not to explain something in the abstract, but to cause something to happen in
reality. What is going on is not at the level of semantics or grammar or letters, but at the level of pragmatics. The end is an actual experience, and thus it cannot take place at the literal point of view,
because it is not merely a symbolic phenomenon. And, because the vital experience which the text is
intended to induce is not at the literal level, if one takes the literal point of view, it prevents one from
experiencing the point of the text, and in this way the literal point of view kills the vitality of the text.
Therefore, the point of the assertion that the letter kills is that if one wants to understand what is really
going on in the Bible, or a joke, or the story of the Wooden Horse, or any other text, or any other symbol, the literal point of view is the wrong point of view.
Now, assuming that this argument is correct, if we reverse our field, and ask, if the literal
point of view is wrong, what is the right point of view? Or in other words, if we ask, what is the point
of view being taken when one says, “I am the City of Troy”, the answer that springs immediately to
mind is that this sentence is metaphorical, so the point of view must be a metaphorical point of view,
or in more general terms, a figurative point of view, or in other words, a symbolic point of view. And,
of course, from the conventional point of view, the metaphorical is disdained as being “merely” symbolic, in comparison with the literal, as if the literal were somehow less symbolic than the metaphorical. However, the fact is that the literal and the metaphorical are equally symbolic; they are different,
but their difference is merely symbolic. It is like the relationship between a ten dollar bill and a check
for ten dollars: even though the former is conceptually prior to the latter, it would be a mistake (a very
common one, though) to think of one as being real and the other as being merely symbolic; the fact is
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
101
The Dialogical Context
that they both represent symbolic value, as distinct from having intrinsic natural value, like an apple
does, because they both depend for their value on the conventions of a particular society, and if that
society were to collapse, so would the value of its symbols. Thus it can be seen that when one moves
from the literal to the metaphorical, or from cash into check, or vice versa, one does not cross the
boundary of the realm of the symbolic. Therefore it is perfectly logical to agree that the metaphorical
is merely symbolic, but to also hold that the literal is also merely symbolic, and at the same time to
hold the that the symbolic point of view is the correct point of view to take in trying to understand all
symbols.
Therefore, the relevant question is not whether to take a symbolic point of view in trying to
understand symbols, for one cannot understand symbols at all without taking a symbolic point of
view. The question is whether to limit oneself to taking the literal symbolic point of view and to prohibit the metaphorical symbolic point of view. This is what the conventional literal point of view prescribes. And the answer is no, we must not limit ourselves to the literal point of view, for that is
precisely the error which the Trojans committed. For this reason, if we want to understand what is
going on symbolically, we must take the deepest and most comprehensive symbolic point of view.
But we must also take care that we do not commit the inverse of the conventional error by
excluding the literal point of view, which in any event would be impossible, because the metaphorical
message is conveyed by the literal message. That is, the underlying surreptitious metaphorical message is conveyed in the superficial literal message, although that does not necessarily mean that the
metaphorical message is secondary in importance; indeed, as with the Wooden Horse, the contrary is
always the case. In terms of the Wooden Horse, its function and value as a sacred symbol is the literal
message; and its function as a duplicitous stratagem is the metaphorical message. And one could not
understand either without being aware of the other. Likewise, the City of Troy taken as an ancient city
on the Bosphorous is the literal victim of the stratagem of the Wooden Horse in the context of the
story; and you (the hearer of the story), as symbolically represented by the City of Troy, are the metaphorical victim of the story in the context of reality. That is, since there is no City of Troy any longer,
the point of the story, the real and present rhetorical force of the story, could not possibly be aimed at
the City of Troy.
Therefore, as a general principle, in order to understand any symbol one must take both points
of view at the same time in the duplicitous frame of reference. In fact, when we transact in the realm
of the symbolic, we actually do take such a duplicitous point of view, whether we are aware of it or
not. The basic purpose of this book is to point out that the bifocal perspective of the symbolic realm is
precisely embodied in the word “duplicity”. Or, in other words, the basic point of this book is to point
out that the realm of the symbolic is a duplicitous realm, so that if one wants to make sense of the
symbolic, one must look at it in the framework of duplicity.
Moving from the general to the specific, in concluding this section, I would like to make a
point about the phenomenological status of the metaphors we are considering by looking at the specific metaphor, “I am the City of Troy”. First, although it might seem to be an unlikely equation, in
fact it is surprisingly common, occurring not just in ancient Greek literature, but in a wide variety of
disparate contexts. This idea was quite common in ancient China, as seen for example in the eighth
century teachings of Hui-neng, the seventh patriarch of the Ch'an sect of Buddhism, as compiled in
the text of the Tun-huang manuscript and translated into English by Philip Yampolsky (1967, p. 158).
The physical body of a man in this world is itself a city. The eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and body are the gates to
the city. Outside there are five gates; inside there is the gate of consciousness. Mind is the ground; self-nature is
the king.
102
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Syntagmatic Dimension of the Human Dialogue
While there are some apparent differences in focus, revolving around the question of how “I” is
related to “my physical body”, the two entities being equated are the same. And note that Hui-neng is
not saying that a city is a metaphor of the physical body, but that the physical body is a city.1 And also
note that there is no reason to suppose that Hui-neng borrowed the idea from the ancient Greek story.
The same equation is woven throughout the textual fabric of the Bible. One of the most basic
themes of the Bible is manifest through the practice of calling the geopolitical entity which developed
among the descendants of the individual whose name was “Israel” by the name of that individual.
Thus the political entity is referred to variously in accord with conventional naming practices as “the
nation of Israel”, “the children of Israel”, “the people of Israel”, etc., but this same political entity is
also referred to as just “Israel”, and the political entity is even addressed directly as an individual. To
cite just one of hundreds of examples,
O Israel, return unto the Lord thy God; for thou hast fallen by thine iniquity. (Hos 14:1)
Nor is this ungrammatical referential practice limited to the political entity of Israel, for other political
entities are also addressed as if they were individuals, including Babylon, Assyria, Rome, Jerusalem,
etc.2 For example, the latter is the subject of the following personalization.
How doth the city sit lonely, that was full of people; how is she become a widow! She that was great among the
nations, a princess among the provinces; how is she become a vassal. (Lamentations 1:1)
(The reverse is common in our own language: “Washington says....”, meaning metonymically “The
government of the political entity whose capital is in the city of Washington says ....”) And the collective corporate perspective versus the individual perspective is often mixed up in the same sentence,
for example,
Behold, I have engraved thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me (Is. 49:16)
The implication of violating conventional categorization in this way is that such categorization is
incorrect. Thus, although the Bible does not explicitly assert “You are Jerusalem”, “You are Israel”,
“You are Babylon”, etc., in addressing these political entity as individual persons, it conveys that
assertion surreptitiously by implication (i.e. by Trojan Horse). And, once again, there is no reason to
think that the fact that the same idea occurs in the Hebrew, the Greek, and the Chinese languages can
be explained by borrowing.
As a final example, though arguably not independent of Biblical influence, I would like to call
attention to the fact that Sigmund Freud frequently made use of the idea of the city as a metaphorical
image of the individual mind in order to try to conceptualize various mental phenomena. In one place
he developed the idea at some length in order to try to explain how historically prior structures of the
mind can be preserved and still function under the surface to determine the shape of contemporary
behavior, just as the ancient structures of Rome still determine the overall shape of the city as well as
specific roadways, etc. (Civilization and its Discontents, p. 69ff) But taken generally, there is a metaphorical thread running through Freud's text where he conceptualizes the individual mind in terms of
the physical and political structure of a city, such that an individual has walls much the same as a city,
for the protection of which he marshals his defenses, etc. And the individual has a complex and elab-
1. This is that same ambiguity which Lacan cited in support of the claim that the human situation can only be understood
in terms of a “two body psychology.”
2. The word “political” is from Greek polis meaning “city.”
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
103
The Dialogical Context
orate bureaucracy of mind much the same as the bureaucracy of the government of a city, with interdepartmental conflicts, with overseers and onlookers and bystanders, etc. And, of course, every city
must have its lower classes, crude brutes, driven by mere animal urges, which must be properly governed and kept under control by the politically dominant class, etc.
Finally, as we mentioned at the beginning of our discussion of Barbara Tuchman's view of
man's folly, there are certain forms of government, monarchy, dictatorship, etc., where the head of
government is considered to be the embodiment of the state, and where in practical fact the head’s
individual folly is equivalent to the folly of the state. Recall, for example, that Louis XIV actually
said, “I am the state”.
In conclusion then, although the idea that “I am the City of Troy” might seem to be a wildly
deviant idea from the conventional point of view, the sort of idea that is only grudgingly tolerated by
the conventional authorities under the rubric of poetic license, or insanity, which is to say that it is tolerated only as flight of fancy, which is to say that it is tolerated only if it has “false and trivial” plainly
stamped on its forehead, in view of the fact that it is actually a fairly common idea, and not only
among the insane, but among some reputable witnesses to the human situation, one can only doubt
the veracity of the conventional authorities. Further, the fact that this same wild idea has come into
being independently in disparate cultural settings wants explanation. If the same idea occurs to people
in totally different conventional frames of reference again and again, according to the principles of
science it cannot be a random deviant phenomena, nor can it be a coincidence. One must conclude
that this conventionally deviant idea is motivated by universal natural factors. One must conclude that
it is a natural idea. Just as, for example, in cultures throughout the world, people independently come
to have the idea that dark clouds are an indexical sign of rain, because there is a natural physical relation of causality between clouds and rain, so too have disparate peoples come to have the idea that
“city” is a sign of “I”, because there is a natural symbolic relation between “city” and “I”. Therefore,
the idea the “I am the City of Troy” is not just an amusing poetic deviance from the conventional, nor
is it false and trivial, but it is a deep fact about the human situation. It is a natural fact about the conventionalized symbolization of the human situation, for the city is a symbolic representation of the
ego of the people who live there.
This is a fact of a phenomenological order that the conventional conceptualization of the
world precludes. In the conventional conceptualization of the world, there are only two kinds of facts
- natural facts, and conventional facts, which are considered to not really be facts, but merely arbitrary
agreements. The fact that there is an association between clouds and rain is considered to be a natural
fact, but since language is considered to be a conventional phenomena, the fact that there is an association between the words “I” and “city” would have to be a conventional fact. But this would imply
that it is an arbitrary association, and we have seen that it is not. This leads us to the realization that
the conventional conceptualization of facts incorrectly precludes certain phenomenological categories, namely, the category of phenomena which are both natural and conventional.
This conventionally forbidden category of phenomena is where the fact that the city is a symbol of “I” belongs. And, this is also the phenomenological category in which the fact that the Wooden
Horse is a symbol of the duplicity of the symbol belongs. And, in general, this is the phenomenological category which we want to take as our point of view in trying to explore the roots of human folly
in the realm of language, for this is the category in which the lawful aspects of language are found.
104
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Syntagmatic Dimension of the Human Dialogue
The Theory of Language and Human Folly in the Hebrew Bible
Let us turn now to consider how our argument relates to the way the human situation is
framed in another ancient text, the Bible. Let us consider the question, “Does the Bible take the view
that there is a human type of human problem?” Indeed it does. This is the central theme of the Bible,
on which it constantly drums from beginning to end. Well not exactly from the beginning, but from
the point in the evolution of the human situation where the human type of error first appears. The
overarching theme of the Bible is that the world view of all normal human beings is contaminated and
distorted by a primitive error, which leads human beings to hold erroneous views and consequently to
systematically misguided and destructive behavior.
What does the Bible say about the origin of this human type of error? As I said, according to
the story of the Bible the error was not there from the beginning. In the beginning, even before the
sun and the moon and the stars, the first thing God created was the light. By fiat. That is, by saying
“Let there be light.” And then he made the sun and the moon and the stars, etc. The process took six
days, and at the end of each day He looked at what he had made and “saw that it was good”. On the
sixth day he made man and woman, in his own image, and He “blessed them” and He “saw everything that he had made, and, behold it was very good.” Thus according to the story of the Bible the
human problem was not there from the beginning, because in the beginning human beings were very
good, so the human problem is not literally generic. That is, the human problem came into the situation after the genesis.
As the Bible has it, the beginning of the human problem is reenacted over and over again in
different ways through history. The first account of the genesis of the human type of error is veiled in
dense imagery. The error is described as the function of a dialogue between man and woman, and it
involved a third party, cast here as a serpent. And, of course, that dialogue was framed in a prior dialogue in which God had granted man and woman free reign of the garden of Eden,1 which he had prepared especially for them, with only one restriction, which was that they were forbidden to partake of
the fruit of one particular tree, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Naturally, this prohibition
aroused in them the desire to partake of that which was prohibited, and this desire generates the dramatistic tension which gives birth to the human type of error. In the playing out of this drama, the
woman played a subversive role in relation to the man, and in turn the serpent played a subversive
role in relation to the woman. In the end the man and the woman did submit to this perverse desire
and partake of the knowledge of good and evil, as do we all. And that is the way the genesis of the
human type of error is described the first time. While some of the general features of the genesis of
human error might be clear from this rendition, it leaves much veiled in dreamlike imagery. But fortunately this is only the first telling.
Another version of the origin of the human problem is the story of the tower of Babel. In this
story language plays the central role. This story begins at the stage in the development of the human
situation where “the whole earth was of one language and one speech” (Genesis 11:1). Because the
people were able to communicate with each other in their one language, the people conspired
together saying,
lets build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven... and this they begin to do: now nothing will
be withheld from them, which they have imagined to do... So the Lord scattered them abroad from there upon the
1. It is important to bear in mind that Eden means “pleasure, delight.”
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
105
The Dialogical Context
face of all the earth... Therefore is the name of it called Babel1, because the Lord did there confound the language
of all the earth.
Here the misuse of language is the root cause of human confusion.
As I said, the genesis of the human type of error is reenacted over and over again in the Bible.
But the place where the problem of human error is addressed most directly and most explicitly is in
the Ten Commandments, which God wrote down and gave directly to Moses. The Ten Commandments do not say “This is what the human type of error is,” but from the Ten Commandments we can
infer what the human type of error is reasoning as follows. If you are forbidden to do a certain thing
by a benevolent authority, such as your own father for example, then you can reasonably conclude
that it would what is forbidden is error.
Of course, the problem of error is more complicated than this seems to suggest, because in the
nature of things, there are too many errors to forbid. Indeed, there is no end to the possibility of error,
so there is an infinity of errors, even an infinity of infinities of errors, so even the best of fathers could
not possibly admonish his child against every one of the infinite number of errors, and even the best
of children could not possibly obey an infinity of admonitions. But it is also in the nature of things
that errors are, like everything else in the universe, governed by law. Errors are not just random and
chaotic, but are organized, systematic, and predictable. For example, it is obvious that it is a more
serious error to stand in the way of an oncoming train than it is to break an egg on the way home from
the market. And a moments reflection makes it clear that this is not a random fact, but rather that
there is a general principle here, which one might state as follows: An error that kills you is worse
than an error that does not kill you. Thus it is clear that there is a hierarchy of errors in regard to the
way in which and the extent to which errors are harmful to me. And further reflection would discover
a number of other organizing principles.
Now one of the pivotal principles of the theory of human error that is put forth in the Bible is
that error is not only hierarchical but it is also generated like a family in the sense that error gives
birth to error, so error divides and multiplies. That is, one becomes two, and two becomes three, and
the third is the type of human error. As Chuang Tzu said in a totally unrelated text, at another time,
and in another place (Watson, 1964, p. 39):
The one and what I said about it make two, and two and the original one make three. If we go on this way, then
even the cleverest mathematician can’t tell where we’ll end
This is the logic of the Bible, where, just as the first man, Adam, generated the family of human
being, so too does the first error, the father of error, generate the family of error. If this principle is
valid, then, strategically speaking, whereas it would be impossible to address the infinity of specific
errors, the natural way to eradicate error, the only possible way to eradicate error, would be to cut the
root of error, the father of error, the generator of error, i.e., to circumcise the foreskins of our hearts.
And thus the whole tree would wither and die of its own accord, and thus the myriad branches and
leaves of error would naturally come to an end without having to address them one at a time. This is
the theory of human error that is assumed as the framework of the Ten Commandments. So let us
consider the first three of the Ten Commandments in this context to see what light they shed on our
understanding of the genesis of the human type of error. (Exodus 20)
1. The word Babel is supposed to be a play in Hebrew on “balal” which means “to confuse”. Note also “babble” in
English.
106
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
The Syntagmatic Dimension of the Human Dialogue
1.
2.
3.
I am the Lord thy God, who have brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. Thou shalt have no other gods before me.
Thou shalt not make unto thee any carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven
above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth; thou shalt not bow
down thyself to them, nor serve them...
Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain...
The first law frames the problem of the human type of error in the context of an opposition, in
particular the opposition between the one and the many — God vs. gods. And note also that in a
veiled allusion to the same theme, the word which is misleadingly rendered as “Egypt” in the English
version of the Bible is mitsrayim in Hebrew, which is the dual form of mâtsôwr, and literally means
“the dual land.” Given this meaning and given the parallelism of the last two clauses of the first sentence, it conveys the proposition that “the double land” is “the house of bondage”, or in other words,
the realm of manyness is the realm of bondage, and by implication, oneness is the realm of freedom.
We must acknowledge that there is another explanation for the use of the dual in the name of
this country. The traditional explanation is that the name is dual because the land of Egypt is geologically differentiated as between the Nile delta in the north and the highlands to the south and it was
sometimes politically divided into two corresponding parts, upper Egypt and lower Egypt. However,
as we have seen throughout this book, symbols always have two or more levels of reference, so there
is no reason to assume that one of these readings precludes the other. Hence I read this law as associating the manyness of gods with the doubleness of the political entity known as Egypt, which is in
both senses the state of bondage. And this state of doubleness is opposed in turn to the state of oneness, which is the state of freedom. And thus the first commandment is to seek the one, and to avoid
the many. The human type of error, then, is to dwell in the land of duality, or manyness.
The second law speaks of images and likenesses, which might appear on the face of it to be a
new topic. But the second law simply repeats the first with greater specificity. The second law specifies that the “other gods” of the first law are man made images or likenesses, which we will interpret
in the context of the theory of signs to mean “signs.” It is crucial to note that it does not refer to all
signs, but only to manufactured signs, which, in the literal sense of “manufactured signs”, means
“signs that are made by hand.” And it is in allusion to this specific characteristic of the “bad” type of
signs, that the Bible speaks elsewhere of the “good” sign as follows:
Daniel 2:34 Thou sawest till that a stone was cut out without hands, which smote the image upon his feet that
were of iron and clay, and brake them to pieces.
Dan 2:45 Forasmuch as thou sawest that the stone was cut out of the mountain without hands, and that it brake
in pieces the iron, the brass, the clay, the silver, and the gold; the great God hath made known to the king what
shall come to pass hereafter: and the dream is certain, and the interpretation thereof sure.
Given this characteristic, we can frame this distinction with great precision in the theory of
signs: the second commandment says that the “other gods” are symbolic signs, as distinct from iconic
or indexical signs. So I read this law as saying that the fundamental human error is to worship symbolic signs. Normally we do not think of ourselves as “worshiping” symbolic signs, for the simple
reason that we think of ourselves in terms of symbolic signs. That is, we have constructed our identity
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
107
The Dialogical Context
in symbolic images, instead of in the image of God, so we do not think of ourselves as worshiping
alien signs, because we think of ourselves as being those alien signs. And that is precisely why this is
crux of the human error, for it says in the story of genesis that God created us in his image. We are
created in the image of God, but we have conceptualized ourselves in the symbolic images of our language. Thus there is a disparity between what we are and what we think we are, and this is the root of
the human type of error.
Parenthetically, you may recall from the story of the Ten Commandments that while Moses
was up in the mountain receiving these laws from God, the other Hebrews were busy manufacturing
an image of a calf in the medium of gold, which they intended to worship. It would seem that this
golden calf of the Hebrew tradition is the central symbolic representation of the folly of believing in
symbolic signs. Thus the Golden Calf in the Hebrew story is the equivalent of the Wooden Horse in
the Greek story. In other words, the golden calf is the symbol of the symbol.
The third law focuses upon the name of God, which, contrary to what the English rendering of
the Bible would have us believe, is not “God”. The distortions of the name of God is one of the many
ways in which the various English versions of the Bible have thoroughly “cooked” the story by
means of artful translation. One of the results of this “cooking” of the story is the drastic distortion of
this third law such that it is interpreted in English at least to mean that one should not say the word
“God”. (See the discussion of examples of the operation of this misinterpreted form of the law in conventional phonology in “The Euphemistic Mutilation of Phonological Form” beginning on page 251.)
The history of this cooking process as the story of the Bible made its way from the Hebrew through
Greek and Latin into English is interesting, but here we will just point out that when Moses asked
what God’s name is (Exodus 2:13), God said
Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you.
So if the name of God is really “I AM”, then the third commandment says, not that you should not say
“God”, but that you should not say “I AM” when referring to your self. In other words, since there is
one, this law goes to the question of how many I’s there are, and which of the many things called “I”
has the right to say I AM. If I use the name “I” to designate something that is merely a symbolic or
imaginary conceptualization in the realm of duplicitous signs, then I am using the name to designate
something which does not exist, hence I would be using it “in vain”.
Taking these three first laws together, I read them as saying that the error which plagues man
is the error of substituting an image for reality, and, though we have not discussed it yet, sacrificing
thereby the real for the imaginary. In sum, the error is to exchange what is for what is not. And language is the conventional institutionalization of this species of erroneous exchange. Therefore language is the institutionalization of the human type of error.
This view of language as being at the crux of the generic human error is, as mentioned above
the point of the story of the tower of Babble, the this view is most explicitly stated in James 3.
Behold, if we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we guide their whole body. And behold,
ships, even though so large and driven by powerful winds, are guided by a very small rudder wherever the
impulse of the pilot decides. So also the tongue is a small member and boasts of great things.
Behold how great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire. And the tongue is a fire; the cosmos of unrighteousness,
the tongue is the member of the body that stains the whole body and sets on fire the wheel of birth, and is set on
fire by ghenna.
108
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
In this view, it is the tongue, which, as we have seen is a figurative name for language (which means
“tongue” in Latin), which generates human error. It is from this point of view that the following is
said.
Not that which goeth into the mouth defileth a man, but that which cometh out of the mouth, this defileth a
man...(because)...those things which proceed out of the mouth come forth from the heart
And it is only from this point of view that the following remedy makes sense.
Circumcise, therefore, the foreskin of your heart (Deuteronomy 10:16)
And the following passage
Take with you words, and turn to the Lord; say unto him, Take away all iniquity, and receive us graciously; so
we will render the calves of our lips. (Hosea 14:3)
takes us back to the symbol of the Golden Calf, the symbol of the symbol, the symbol of the word.
So in conclusion, it seems to me that the Bible takes exactly the same position in regard to the
role of language in the human situation as we are trying to establish here as the foundation of the science of linguistics:
1.There
is a generic human problem.
2.The problem is in language.
3.Language is problematic because it is duplicitous.
We could go on and on in elaboration of the argument in the text of the Bible. And there are
many other ancient texts and myth cycles from many other cultures in which we find the same theme.
We already touched upon some of them in the beginning of this chapter and we will touch on some of
them in other ways below. But we could not possibly survey all of the evidence. And it is not necessary. Once is an accident, twice is already a significant coincidence, and three times is a law. So we
have provided sufficient evidence to establish that the new point of view we are trying to develop is
not new, but rather that it constitutes the framework of the most ancient level, the archeological level
of human dialogue.
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
Jumping over a couple thousand years to the modern dialogue, the modern scientific dialogue
of the twentieth century, there have been many astute observers of the human situation who have
come to the realization more or less independently that in order to make sense of human interaction
one must analyze it in terms of two different levels. So these scientists have tried to develop theories
of human language and human thought and human behavior on the basis of a two-level, or dualistic
frame of reference. And since these scientists came to this realization more or less independently, and
since they approached the matter from different points of view, and since they focused upon different
aspects of human interaction, these various scientists developed theories on the basis of correspondingly different dualisms.
For example, as I will discuss in detail in later chapters, the discovery of the [phonetic \ phonemic] dualism was the seminal insight which gave birth to the discipline of linguistics. Subse-
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
109
The Dialogical Context
quently, Kenneth Pike generalized this specifically phonological dualism into a general dualism,
which he called the [etic \ emic] dualism, on the basis of his understanding of the [phonetic \ phonemic] dualism, and he used this dualism as the paradigm of his tagmemic theory, which attempts to be
a “unified theory of human behavior.” Subsequently, Noam Chomsky developed the generative theory of language, and of the human mind, on the basis of the [surface form \ underlying form] dualism,
which is another kind of generalization of the original [phonetic \ phonemic] dualism. Roman Jakobson developed his theory of language on the basis of the [similarity \ contiguity] dualism, which is
totally different from the [phonetic \ phonemic] dualism.
In anthropology, Levi- Strauss, much influenced by Jakobson, tried to make sense of cultural
phenomena in terms of the [savage thought \ civilized thought] dualism, and then later he used the
[raw \ cooked] dualism. Also in anthropology, Clifford Geertz has analyzed cultural phenomena in
terms of the [thin description \ thick description] dualism. From a psychological perspective, Michael
Polyani came up with the idea that the human situation ought to be analyzed in terms of the dualism
[tacit knowledge \ spoken knowledge]. And one of the most famous analysts of the human situation
was Freud, who held that the human psyche is a hierarchical system of dualistic oppositions, a
branching treelike structure, the most fundamental dualism of which is the distinction between the
two basic types of thought processes, the [primary process \ secondary process] dualism. And there
are many others that I could mention, but I will end with the [imaginary \ symbolic] dualism in terms
of which Jacques Lacan reframed Freud’s theory of the human psyche.
On the surface these various dualisms seem to be different, because they are expressed using
different words, but as I read the works of these various scholars it seems to me that they are all seeing the same thing, namely the essential dualism of the human psyche, and they are all trying to find
a way of talking about the same thing. If I am right in holding the view that they are all trying to get
at the same phenomena, then obviously it would be good to try to bring their observations and their
insights and their theories together into one comprehensive frame of reference. In this section I will
try to show how these various points of view can be reconciled with each other and brought together
in the framework of the theory of signs.
But instead of using the terminology of any of these dualisms as our basic frame of reference,
and thereby adopting the prejudices and presumptions, and the antagonisms and resentments, and the
confusions and the misrepresentations, that go along with that terminology, I will begin with a new
dualism, a fresh new clean concept that still is untrammeled by confusion and the scars of battle. The
basic term of the dualism I have chosen to use, “wild”, was suggested to me by the realization that
this word has been used many times in a purely metaphorical way to describe the dualism we want to
get at. It happens that the deeper level of the duality has often been described in terms of the metaphor of “wild language,” or as “bewildering”, or some similar notion, such as “savage thought.” So I
will take the word “wild” as the starting point, and I will suggest that this is not just a metaphor, that
there is really an underlying level of interaction, that this underlying level of interaction really is
“wild language”, and therefore we ought to take this metaphor literally, and we ought to take the concept of “wild language” as a theoretical concept in the framework of the theory of signs, and we
ought to use it to construct a paradigm in terms of which we can organize the dualisms, the empirical
observations, and the insights of these various scholars, and as paradigm in which we can frame and
explore the dualisms of language and the human psyche. So that is what I propose to do in the following pages.
110
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
An Example of the Problem
Before we go on to develop this paradigm, I would like to cite a simple concrete example of
the sort of dialogue which makes it necessary to develop a dualistic theoretical paradigm. Jakobson
(1979, p. 159) cites the following example of a dialog, which is so irrational that it might be thought
to be an aberration, and yet anyone who is familiar with child language acquisition knows that this
sort of dialogue it is perfectly normal and very common. And what is more, I am suggesting that it is
a simple childish prototype of what goes on in a more subtle way in adult dialogue.
MacKay (1970b:320) cites the dialogue of a mother with her child, who months earlier had been able to produce
[f] and [p] in his babbling and now asked her to “give me my pork” (meaning fork); when she handed him his
fork, saying in his style “Here is your pork,” she received the answer: “No, no! Pork! Pork!
Here is a child who learns the word “fork”: he knows what it means, and he knows how to use it, and
he hears it correctly, and he pronounces it correctly. And then at a later point in time he seems to have
unlearned the word in certain ways. He still knows what it means, and he still uses the word correctly,
but he becomes incapable of pronouncing it correctly in that he erroneously substitutes [p] for [f],
saying “pork.” And when his mother pronounces the word the same way he does, he corrects her,
saying that it should be “pork” instead of “pork.” But there is something very strange about the
child’s speech act because the wrong way of saying it and the right way of saying it are the same.
That is, the first “pork” and the second “pork” are the same. But he does not seem to be aware of that
fact. He seems to think that he is saying the second “pork” correctly as “fork.” So apparently at this
stage the child can correctly hear the difference between [f] and [p] in the speech of his mother, but
he cannot hear the difference in his own speech. And he cannot pronounce the difference, even
though he used to be able to when he was younger. And he erroneously thinks he is pronouncing the
word correctly, when in fact he is not.
An adequate theory of language must be able to make sense of this sort of childish dialogue,
not to mention the even more complex fabric of adult dialogue. It is my contention that it is possible
to make sense of such facts in terms of the duplicitous theory of signs. So in the following pages we
will develop our understanding of the situation of language in terms of that theory. Then we will
return to the above cited dialogue (on page 148) and show how we can make sense of it and other
similarly perplexing linguistic phenomena in the frame of reference that we will have developed.
The “Wild” Paradigm
In order to develop the wild paradigm we must begin by setting up a dualistic paradigm centered on the word “wild” and then we must locate this dualistic paradigm in the framework of the theory of signs. The first step in doing so is to flesh out the paradigm of the word “wild.” We can begin
with the dictionary definition of “wild”, which is as follows:
Occurring, growing, or living in a natural state; not domesticated, cultivated, or tamed; Uncivilized or barbarous;
savage; Lacking restraint; unruly:
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
111
The Dialogical Context
From this we can construct a preliminary paradigm of the word “wild” such as the following, where
the vertical dimension is a function of the relation of similarity and the horizontal dimension is a
function of the relation of opposition.
TABLE 1. The
Wild \ Tame Paradigm in a Tabular Framework
wild
natural
undomesticated
savage
unrestrained
unruly
tame
unnatural
domesticated
civilized
restrained
ruly
Let me interject a parenthetic note by way of explaining what sort of thing this paradigm is
and what I intend to do with it. We must bear in mind that this is just a partial representation of the
paradigm of this word. First, as to the partiality of this representation, the whole paradigm of the
word “wild” would include all of the words to which the word “wild” is related, and that would be the
whole of the English language. These are just the words that the dictionary lists as being in the most
immediate association with the word “wild.” One of the ways in which we will explore this paradigm
is by adding more words that are associated with “wild.” Second, as to the fact that this is just a representation of the paradigm, it must be noted that the relationships among these words in English is not
fixed in the way represented here. What is definitive is relations of similarity and opposition that are
represented here, not the particular vertical ordering, and not the particular horizontal pairing. This is
just one of many possible ways one might represent the paradigm of this word because all of these
relationships are dynamic and fluid in several different ways, which is what allows the vast network
of associations of which language consists.
Let me put this point another way. The symbolic value of words, like the symbolic value of
money, is fungible. So one can transform this representation of the semantic paradigm of the word
“wild” in many different ways without significantly changing the significance of the word “wild,” so
long as any such changes are in conformity with the principles of similarity and opposition. It is
something like mathematical or algebraic commutations: If [a+b=c] then [c-b=a]. These two different
representations are mathematically equivalent. So in the realm of symbolic signs there are many different ways to represent the same value. Consider money for example: suppose someone gives me a
check for one hundred dollars, and I change it into a hundred dollar bill, and then I change the hundred dollar bill into five twenty dollar bills, and then I change one of the twenties into a ten and a five
and five ones, and then I buy two movie tickets for ten dollars, and then I sell one of them to a friend
for five dollars, and then I sell the other ticket for twenty quarters. The symbolic value of my money
has been transformed into different representations, but the symbolic value of my money has not
changed. So it is with words.
Thus one could change the order of the rows of the above paradigm, or one could add new
words to the paradigm, or one could shift the words around in various ways, or one could change the
valence of words in various ways, and so long as any changes obey the principles of similarity and
opposition, the symbolic significance of the representation would not change. For example, since
112
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
“tame” and “civilized” are more or less equivalent in meaning, it would not materially change the
paradigm as a whole if one were to exchange “tame” and “civilized,” so that “tame” opposed “savage” and “civilized” opposed “wild.” Or one could replace “savage” with “uncivilized.” Or one could
replace “unrestrained” with “free.” Or one could add a new row of “unconventional” and “conventional.” Etc. These are not mutually exclusive choices, but rather are just different ways of representing the same thing. Such changes would not invalidate the above representation of the paradigm of
the word “wild”, they would just amplify it and shed a new light on it and flesh it out. And I intend to
exploit these modes of fungibility, these operations of commutation and transformation, as a way of
exploring the idea of “wild language.”
Moving on, the next step in framing the “wild” paradigm in the theory of signs is to determine
which of the two opposites is first. In this case it is obvious: wild is prior to tame, natural is prior to
unnatural, savage is prior to civilized, etc. Given this ordering we can represent the paradigm in the
framework of the logic of duplicity as in Figure 5 below. This representation implies, as we have
FIGURE 5.
The Wild \ Tame Paradigm in the Duplicitous Framework
tame, unnatural, civilized, ruly, etc.
wild, natural, uncivilized, unruly, etc.
made clear above, that the tame situation is not just chronologically subsequent to the wild situation,
like four o’clock is subsequent to three o’clock, but that the latter evolves from the former, and that
the latter is somehow false in relation to the former. We will amplify these implications below.
Given the foregoing representation we are in a position to locate the wild paradigm in the
larger framework of the tripartite typology of signs, as represented in Figure 3, “The Typology of
Signs,” on page 75: The boundary between wild language and tame language is the boundary
between iconic and indexical signs on one hand and symbolic signs on the other. In other words, tame
language is the realm of symbolic sign functions and wild language is the realm of iconic and/or
indexical sign functions.
Now for convenience we will transform the representation of the three sign types from the
vertically layered format of Figure 3 to the left-to-right format of Table 2.
TABLE 2.
The Three Types Of Signs in a Tabular Framework
Type 1
Iconic
Type 2
Indexical
Type 3
Symbolic
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
113
The Dialogical Context
Now we can graft Table 1 into the framework of Table 2 to get Table 3.
TABLE 3. The
Wild \ Tame Paradigm in Relation to the Three Types Of Signs
Type 1
Iconic
Type 2
Indexical
wild
natural
undomesticated
savage
unrestrained
unruly
Type 3
Symbolic
tame
unnatural
domesticated
civilized
restrained
ruly
Note that I have added another column between Type 1 and Type 2 on one hand and Type 3 on the
other, and I have shaded it to represent the fact that this is a different type of column. This column is
different because it does not represent a type of sign, but rather it represents the radical boundary
between the two radically different types of signs — wild and natural signs on one side, tame and
unnatural signs on the other. Thus this shaded column is intended to represent the fact that there is an
evolutionary jump, an actual gap that occurs between wild and tame signs, which we will explain
more fully below.
Now I would like to expand this paradigm to include logic. The orthodox idea of logic is that
there is one and only kind of logic, which is commonly known as rational logic. Whatever is not
rational, is not logic. So in the orthodox frame of reference, which is the rational frame of reference,
it would be absurd to entertain the idea that there might be another system of logic. But it is obvious
to any ordinary person that there are two systems of logic. It is a matter of common knowledge that
people commonly think in another way, a non-rational way. Of course, from the conventional point
of view, this other way of thinking is not considered to be logical, because it is not rational. This other
way of thinking is disparaged from the orthodox point of view as irrational, and illogical, and therefore, as a wrong way of thinking. But there is good reason to believe that this other way of thinking
cannot be wholly dismissed as wrong. The fact is that this other way of thinking, this irrational way of
thinking, is not just manifest negatively as breaches of rationality, as error, as failure; it is also manifest positively in flashes of insight, in humor, in play, in art, etc. Therefore, while this other mode of
thought is certainly irrational, it would be an error to dismiss it as wrong. Indeed in many ways this
other mode of thought is more right than rational thought. This other mode of thought often leads to
deeper understandings. It is the mode of thought which leads to invention. It is the mode of beauty,
and joy. So while it might be irrational, it is also fun, and it is often more effective. In short, it satisfies.
Furthermore, if you consider this other mode of thought from an objective scientific point of
view, rather than prejudging by conventional standards, one can see that it is not really unlawful. The
other mode of thought is not unlawful, it is just that it is a different system of law. And in the present
context the notion that there are two types of logic makes perfectly good sense. In fact, we would
expect two different types of logic.1 So in the present context we can make sense of the notion that
there are two different types of thought, two types of logic, as follows. What is commonly known as
“rational” logic is the logic of the symbolic type of signs, which is in keeping with the fact that this
114
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
kind of logic is known as “symbolic” logic in the technical parlance of philosophical logicians. And
the other kind of logic is the logic of iconic and indexical signs. In the terminology of the wild paradigm we can think of these two types of logic variously as wild logic vs. civilized logic, or as natural
logic vs. unnatural logic, or, the terminology which I think is most telling, as natural logic vs. symbolic logic, as in Table 4 below.
Now that we have expanded our dualistic paradigm to the realm of logic, we have a place to
put Sigmund Freud’s two types of logic, which he called “primary processes” and “secondary processes.” Let me briefly frame Freud’s logical dualism in the context of his theory of the human mind.
Freud argued that the human mind is a hierarchical system of binary divisions, a branching treelike
structure, much like a government bureaucracy, or a phonological system. And this logical dualism is
the first and most fundamental dualism in the bureaucracy of mind, for it is the prototype of the dualism of the human mind. Freud came to the realization that the human mind is organized as a function
of a fundamental logical dualism as follows.
The study of symptom-formation and the analysis of dreams led Freud to recognize a type of mental functioning
that was very different from the thought processes which had been the object of traditional psychological observation. This method of functioning [primary processes], which had its own mechanisms and which was regulated
by specific laws, was particularly well illustrated by dreaming (Laplanche and Pontalis, p. 339)
Because the interplay of the two types of logic is easier to see in dreams, Freud’s fullest and most
explicit explanation of the system of two logics is found in Chapter VII of On the Interpretation of
Dreams.
Although the realm of dreams is notoriously complex and confusing, the general line of argument is quite simple. The conventional attitude toward dreams, and not coincidentally, the prevailing
scientific attitude toward dreams, in Freud’s time and now, is that they are not worth considering. It is
not that they have been examined and found to be of no value, but that they are simply not permitted
to become the focus of attention in the center stage of the conventional mind. Dreams are conventionally insignificant. Contrary to the conventional point of view, Freud’s basic premise is that dreams
are significant. He held that a dream is a communicative event and that the dream itself is a linguistic
object.
Obviously a dream is a special dream-type of linguistic object, but it is the same type of thing
as any other linguistic object, and consequently it is similar in many ways to other types of linguistic
objects. So Freud holds that a dream event is a kind of speech act, but it is different from ordinary
speech acts in several ways. One of the main differences is that a dream is an intrapsychic communication, whereas ordinary speech acts are interpsychic phenomena, at least in the ideal. Of course,
dreams are not the only kind of intrapsychic linguistic phenomena, for we all carry on intrapsychic
dialogues more or less continually, when we are not talking out loud, and when we are not sleeping.
And this brings us to another difference: Dreams take place during sleep. And there is also a radical
difference in the position of the first person: in an ordinary speech act, the first person is the speaker
of the speech act, but in a dream, the first person is the addressee of the speech act. That is, in ordinary speech act, I speak, but in a dream speech act, it speaks to me, or they speak to me. In keeping
1. Actually, we would expect three types of logic, but Rome was not built in a day, so we cannot expect to deconstruct
Rome in a day.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
115
The Dialogical Context
with these differences, Freud’s theory is that a dream is a speech act that is performed on behalf of all
of the competing agencies in the hierarchical bureaucracy of mind. It is a speech act that is spoken, as
it were, by the unconscious part of the mind and addressed to the conscious part of the mind. Spoken
by “it” and addressed to “I.”1 A dream is analogous to a public statement issued by a complex government bureaucracy formulated by a committee of representatives who do not want the addressee to
know what is really going on on the inside, and thus contrives a communication which is designed to
be unintelligible, and which is finally read by some anonymous press secretary to the public at large,
i.e., to the dreamer. In both cases, the linguistic object that is “spoken”, which results from the interplay amongst the various competing interests, is a highly condensed and distorted compromise that
represents the interests of all of the various agencies involved, and this is why dreams, and governmental communications, are so complex and confusing. So in keeping with this theory of dreams,
Freud analyzed dreams as a kind of dialogical process through which one or more underlying intentions, some of which may be in harmony, some of which may be in conflict, and some of which may
be unrelated, are transformed into a single surface representation.
So Freud’s theory of dreams is very similar to the generative theory of language, which tries
to make sense of language as a function of the relationship between underlying forms and surface
forms. Freud called the two levels of representation in dreams “the latent content” and “the manifest
content”, but it seems to me that this is a trivial difference. So informally, according to Freud,
‘interpreting’ a dream implies assigning a ‘meaning’ to it (p. 96)
But technically, in the theoretical context he set up, what he means by the meaning of a dream is the
underlying form, or latent content, and so technically, interpreting a dream is a process of assigning
an underlying form, or a set of underlying forms, to a surface form. This is exactly how Chomsky
characterized the purpose of a grammar in generative linguistics theory. So if we begin with a given
surface form then, interpreting a dream is a process of undoing the chain of substitutions and displacements and condensations2 that derived the surface form from the underlying form(s). This is the
chain of derivation which Freud called “the dream work.” More generally, he held that “all thinking
is no more than a circuitous path from the memory of a satisfaction”, satisfaction here being an image
retained from the past, to a desired reenactment of that satisfaction, which is an image in the present.
In other words, thinking is “the connecting path between ideas” (p. 602). And since an idea is a symbolic representation, we can restate Freud’s theory in terms identical to those of generative linguistic
theory thus: a dream is a derivational relation between an underlying form and a surface form.
In On the Interpretation of Dreams, Freud shows how this theory applies to many dreams and
he demonstrates that in order to make sense of the relationship between surface forms and underlying
forms one must think of the derivational process, the dream work, as a dialogical interplay between
two radically different types of logic, “primary process thinking” and “secondary process thinking”
(for an explanation of which see especially p. 588-609).
1. A nice example of dreamlike obfuscation has become institutionalized in the psychoanalytic literature in English where
Freud’s “es” in German, which means simply “it” in English, when used to talk about an agency of the mind is translated into English using the corresponding Latin term “id”. Similarly, “ich,” which means “I”, when so used is translated using the corresponding Latin term “ego.” As far as I know there is no rational motivation for this sleight of hand.
2. By the way, these three operations - substitution, displacement, and condensation- by which surface representations are
derived from underlying representations are the functions of the symbolic, indexical, and iconic sign relations respectively.
116
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
we are driven to conclude that two fundamentally different kinds of psychical processes are concerned in the formation of dreams. One of these produces perfectly rational dream-thoughts, of no less validity than normal thinking; while the other treats these thoughts in a manner which is in the highest degree bewildering and irrational.
(p. 597, emphasis added)
And in subsequent publications he argued that this same primitive logical duality underlies and governs many different types of linguistic and behavioral phenomena such as jokes, puns, slips of the
tongue and other mistakes, artistic works, mythology, etc., as well as what passes for normal speech,
and of course pathological symptoms. In sum, then, Freud’s entire body of work argues that this logical duality is the very framework of the human psyche.
When it comes to correlating Freud’s dualism with ours, it is obvious from the fact that he
called one type “primary” and the other “secondary” that the former is prior to the latter, and thus primary logic is the same as wild logic and secondary logic is the same as symbolic logic. Freud explicitly explains the relation of priority thus:
the primary processes are present in the mental apparatus from the first, while it is only during the course of life
that the secondary processes unfold, and come to inhibit and overlay the primary ones; it may even be that their
complete domination is not attained until the prime of life. (p. 603)
The fact that the primary processes are wild is also indexically signified, not coincidentally, because
an indexical sign is a primary process, in the form of the word “bewildering” which Freud used to
describe the primary processes in the above quote. That is, it stands to reason that if something is
“bewildering” then it must be “wild.”
I do not want to get into a formal discussion of the difference between the laws of wild logic
and the laws of symbolic logic,1 but I will mention the following points in passing. Freud never
explicitly and systematically worked out the laws of wild logic, but he illustrated and explained the
laws of wild logic in various places throughout his publications, especially in The Psychopathology
of Everyday Life and Wit and Its Relation to the Unconscious. He pointed out that wild logic is distinct from symbolic logic in the following ways. First, there is no negative in wild logic, the negative
being the seminal operator of the symbolic type of logic, a point which we will return to below. And
there are no other quantifiers in wild logic so it is impossible to distinguish between “A” and “not A”
and “this A” and “all A” and “some A”. Further, “or” = “and”, so “A or B” is the same as “A and B.”
(see e.g. On Dreams SE vol V, p. 661). As to the operators that are in wild logic, Freud distinguished
two wild relations, which he called “condensation” and “displacement.” I will add that these two relations are what we have been calling iconic and indexical sign relations respectively in the framework
of the theory of signs. So I have added the terms Freud used to describe his two basic dualisms in the
appropriate columns in Table 4 below.
Roman Jakobson’s theory of language also posits a basic dualism, which he usually talks
about in terms of the relations of similarity and contiguity. In various works he explicitly identified
these two relationships as the same as Peirce’s iconic and indexical relations respectively. Jakobson
also asserted the these are the same as Freud’s condensation and displacement (e.g., Jakobson, 1956,
p. 81 and see also Laplanche and Pontalis p. 123). And he also connected this distinction with Saussure’s earlier distinction between what Saussure called the “unifying force” and the “particularist
spirit.” I have added these distinctions to Table 4 also.
1. I have written a draft of a book about logic and markedness which speaks to these matters in more detail.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
117
The Dialogical Context
Jacques Lacan derived his theory of psychoanalysis of course from that of Freud. Freud
couched his theory of psychoanalysis in the metaphors that were current in the physical sciences of
his day, pressures, energies, etc. Lacan translated and transformed Freud’s theory of psychoanalysis
from the framework of such physical metaphors into the framework of the theory of language as put
forth by Saussure. His thinking was subsequently influenced by Jakobson. And blending these various influences together Lacan distinguished two types of logic which he called “imaginary” and
“symbolic” logic.1
And finally, I would like to point out that Claude Lévi Strauss, beginning in The Savage Mind,
distinguished between savage logic and civilized logic. I have added these terms to Table 4 as well.
TABLE 4. Some
Freud
Jakobson
Saussure
Lacan
Lévi-Strauss
Logical Distinctions in Relation to the Wild \ Tame Paradigm
Type 1
Type 2
Type 3
Iconic
Indexical
Symbolic
WILD
TAME
natural
undomesticated
savage
unrestrained
unruly
unnatural
domesticated
civilized
restrained
ruly = conventional
Natural Logic
Symbolic Logic
Irrational Logic
Primary Processes
Condensation
Displacement
Similarity
Contiguity
Unifying force Separatist spirit
Imaginary Logic
Savage Logic
Rational Logic
Secondary Processes
Symbolic Logic
Civilized Logic
One part of the usefulness of this paradigm now is clear: It provides a general theoretical
framework which is capable of incorporating and comprehending the seemingly disparate theoretical
perspectives of the most profound observers of language and human nature. In this framework we can
freely shift from one scholar’s system of terminology to another, from scholar’s one perspective to
another, harvesting the insights of all of these scholars, and thus gaining a deeper and fuller and
broader understanding of language and human nature. In the present context it would be inappropriate to systematically explore the vast store of insights thus made available to us, but I will mention
1. Lacan distinguished a third category, which he called “the real”, but as is always the case with the real, there is no place
for it in this tabular representation of the realm of signs, or for that matter, in any representation of anything. The real
cannot be represented. The real is what it is. Thus in terms of Table 4, the real is the paper on which it is printed and the
ink of which it consists.
118
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
points of particular relevance in the works of these various scholars as we come upon them. In the
rest of this section, I will flesh out our understanding of the wild / tame paradigm.
Roman Jakobson on Wild Language and the Gap
I first began to think about language in terms of the distinction between “wild language” and
“tame language” when I came across the term “wild sounds” in Jakobson’s Child Language, Aphasia,
and Phonological Universals. He meant it metaphorically, as indicated by the fact that he put it in
quotation marks, but I wondered why one shouldn’t take it literally. I will cite that quote in a moment.
But first, I must make it clear that I want to shift the focus of attention, as always, from the
subsequent to the prior. Attention has usually been focused upon Jakobson’s explanation of the stratification of the phonological system of the adult language as manifest in the step by step process the
child goes through in mastering the phonological system of the adult language. For example, the child
can only learn /k/ after he masters /p/ and /t/, he can only learn /e/ after /i/, /S/ after /s/, etc. But I want
to focus upon Jakobson’s characterization of the child’s vocal behavior prior to the development of
language proper, prior to the child’s attainment of the ability to transact in the medium of symbolic
signs.
In this regard it is interesting to note that, although it is usually ignored, Jakobson spent 45
pages, nearly half of the book, trying to separate the pre-linguistic stage from the linguistic stage,
before he began to talk about the stratified development of the child’s competence in the adult language. The general point he was trying to make is that in order to make sense of anything in language,
and in order to make sense in particular of child language acquisition, one must distinguish between
the two radically different types of language that correspond to these two stages of development. He
said,
There are two varieties of language for the child, one might almost say two styles - one he controls actively, the
other, the language of the adult, only passively... (p. 22)
Speaking narrowly in terms of phonology, Jakobson is saying that there are two totally different types
of sound systems at play in language, two totally different systems for using vocal sounds and for
evaluating vocal sounds - the pre-phonemic system and the phonemic system. Therefore,
If all of the sound productions of the child are tossed into the same heap, it is understandable that the laws of
development cannot be disclosed. By careful delimitation, however, the regular succession of acquired phonemic
oppositions clearly emerges. (p. 31)
On the basis of this distinction then, Jakobson then goes on in the next section of his book, entitled
“Stratification of the phonological system”, to describe the sequential process by which the child
masters the system of phonemic oppositions in the adult language.
The sequential mastery of the phonemic system in the course of child language acquisition fits
into his general argument as follows. He argued that the child’s mastery of the phonemic system follows the same principles in all languages, hence the hypothesis of universal principles. And he argued
that the same universal principles are manifest in the sequential regeneration of language capability in
the recovering aphasic in all languages. And he argued that the same universal principles are manifest
in the historical development of all language. And he argued that the same universal principles are
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
119
The Dialogical Context
manifest in the stratified synchronic structure and in the semantics and in the pragmatics of all languages.
So the focus of interest in his argument is on the development of language capability in the
child. That is, on the development of adult language capability. And from this point of view, there is
language and pre-language, where “pre-language” is just something that precedes “real” language.
But now I want to shift attention to this pre-type of language and focus on it, not just as something
that is pre-something-else, but as something in its own being. I want to focus on child language per se
and on what happens to the child’s child language capability in the course of the child’s development
of adult language capability.
Now, given that there are two types of language - the language of the child and the language
of the adult - it is obvious how they align with our wild/tame paradigm, since the child is prior to the
adult. And Jakobson gives us an explicit index in the following quote.
In place of the phonetic abundance of babbling, the phonemic poverty of the first linguistic stages appears, a kind
of deflation which transforms the so-called “wild sounds” of the babbling period into entities of linguistic
value. (p. 25, emphasis added)
I have emphasized “wild sounds” in this quote to draw attention to it because this is the expression
which suggested to me that child language is not just an amorphous precursor to language but that it
is in some sense a “wild” type of language, and thus that adult language must be in some sense a
“tame” type of language. Intuitively this idea seemed to make sense, so I tried to dig down into the
implications of this idea reasoning along the lines being laid out here. Let us continue to dig out the
implications of this metaphor further.
Before we go on however, we should consolidate our position by incorporating the words that
Jacobson has put on the table into the framework of the wild / tame paradigm. His words fit into the
paradigm as follows.
TABLE 5. Child
Language, Adult Language, and the Gap
Type 1
Type 2
Type 3
Iconic
Indexical
Symbolic
WILD
wild language
child language
babbling
abundance of sounds
Learning2
Natural Logic
TAME
deflation
Symbolic Logic
civilized language
adult language
talking
poverty of sounds
I would like to discuss five salient points of interest here. First let me suggest that, although the
authorities (e.g. the OED) say that the word “adult” is not etymologically related to “adulterate,” one
cannot help but feel that the phonological similarity is more than mere coincidence. Recall that I
mentioned above that the relationship between the wild types of signs and the tame types of signs is
like that between pure water and dirty water, i.e., dirty water is just pure water with something else
mixed in it. And so, while there is such a thing as absolutely pure water, there is no such thing as
absolutely dirty water. And similarly, while there is such a thing as absolutely natural language, there
120
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
is no such thing as absolutely symbolic language. A symbol imposes arbitrary, unnatural sign functions upon an underlying matrix of motivated, natural sign functions. A symbol is basically a matrix
of natural signs with some symbolic sign functions mixed in. And since “adulterated” means “mixed”
there is a semantic similarity that is parallel to the formal similarity, which is set forth in the following paradigm:
Child language is natural, but
Adult language is adulterated.
or equivalently,
Child language is to adult language as
natural is to adulterated.
This is an example of the sort of wild associations of similarity and opposition that surreptitiously
play under the surface of adult language in spite of the fact that such free flowing play is illegal and
strictly forbidden in the adult, or rational, or scientific, universe of discourse. Thus it is possible to
regard wild language as illegal, but it is impossible to actually eradicate it from civilized language.
Second, note that when one uses wild language one is not “talking,” one is “babbling.” And it
is only natural that the name for the more natural type of language should be a childish, or natural,
word. So here too we see a surreptitious correlation between the childishness, or naturalness, of the
form of the word “babble” and the childishness, or naturalness, of the meaning. Of course, from the
adult point of view such language is considered to be deviant, meaningless, and of no value because it
is childish. But from the more comprehensive and more objective point of view we are taking here,
one must assume that the reverse is the case, i.e. that wild language is more primitive, and therefore it
is the opposite of deviant, it is heavily freighted with meaning, and it is more valuable, precisely
because it is childish.
Third, our paradigm claims that the word “wild” is synonymous with “natural”, and in this
sense the word has good implications: a wild thing is free and unfettered and spontaneous, simple and
straightforward and true to its own being, wholesome and healthy and exuberant, etc. But the word
“wild” is also used in another sense where it has bad implications: a “wild shot”, or “wild hair”, or
“wild passions”, or a “wild storm.” In this other sense, a wild thing is “chaotic”, “deviant”, “disorderly”, “violent”, and “dangerous.” The general idea is that a “wild thing” is something that is unlawful or, or to put it in more anthropomorphic terms, something that does not obey the law. But there is
a paradox in this second sense of the word “wild” because a storm, for example, is a wholly natural
phenomenon, and thus it necessarily obeys the laws of nature. So in terms of the laws of nature the
idea of a “wild storm” is a paradox. Indeed, the fundamental premise of the scientific world view is
that everything is lawful, even shots, hair, and passions. So from the scientific point of view “wild
shot”, “wild hair”, “wild passions”, etc. are all paradoxical. So how can we sort out these two mean-
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
121
The Dialogical Context
ings of the word “wild”? How can we make sense of the fact that the same word has opposite meanings? And how can we reconcile the paradox in the second meaning of the word?
Having laid out this problem in detail I suppose it is obvious that the key to its solution is the
realization that the two senses of the word “wild” look at phenomena from two different points of
view and that the two different points of view are defined as a function of two different types of law.
In other words, the two different senses of the word “wild” differ as to the standard of law in relation
to which they judge deviation. So if I make a “wild shot”, it is not a shot which fails to obey the laws
of nature, but one which fails to obey my desires and intentions. It is a shot that didn’t go where I
wanted it to go. Thus the law that it fails to obey is the law of my desire. And if someone has “wild
hair”, it is not hair that fails to obey the laws of nature, but hair that fails to obey some personal or
collective standard of neatness. And if someone has “wild passions”, those passions do not violate the
laws of nature, but some personal and/or collective standard of propriety. Thus we can see that this is
a secondary usage of the word “wild”, derived by substituting a secondary type of law for natural law
as the standard of measure. And this secondary type of law is at bottom the law of personal desire or
intent, or the law of collective desire or intent as codified in the body of conventional law, the body of
law commonly known as “the civil code,” the code which is also known as “language.” In short, the
first sense of “wild” is a function of natural law, the second sense of “wild” is a function of symbolic
law. Thus we can sort out the two meanings of the word “wild” in the framework of duplicity as represented in Figure 6 below.
FIGURE 6.
The Two Types of Wildness
“a wild thing” is bad because
it does not obey civil law
Level 2 - Derived Meaning
“a wild thing” is good because
it obeys natural law
Level 1 - The Basic Meaning
And so we come to the point where we can see that, while wild language may not obey civil
law, it is nevertheless governed by law, a prior type of law, a more fundamental type of law, namely,
natural law, which includes not only the laws of physics and chemistry and biology, but also the laws
of natural signs and the corresponding laws of natural logic. Thus in order to make sense of language
in particular and of our worldview in general we must distinguish between two types of law - natural
law (e.g. You cannot walk on the water) and civil law (e.g. You cannot walk on the grass). And note
that the fact that there are two distinct types of law explains why the two corresponding different
types of language are of radically different natures, e.g. it explains why there are many different and
mutually unintelligible adult languages, and yet there is only one universal wild child language.
The fourth point I want to discuss in regard to the above quotes is this. Recall that Jakobson
characterizes the gap between the abundance of wild language and the poverty of civilized language
as one of “deflation,” which I put in the appropriate column in the last row of Table 4. This characterization of the transition from child language to adult language is at odds with the conventional view,
122
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
which considers this to be a process of learning. But the point Jakobson is trying to make in this section of his study of language acquisition is that, while this transition is certainly a process of learning,
it is different from the conventional idea of learning. For one thing, learning is normally thought of as
an additive process whereby one gains knowledge, comprehension, or mastery. And while it is true
that the child gains mastery of the adult language of his society, in doing so he loses knowledge, comprehension, and mastery in regard to his natural capabilities. So the child becomes civilized at the
expense of his natural capabilities. He learns to substitute symbolic competence for natural competence, and thus he learns to function by means of the symbolic sacrifice his natural competence. We
can thus distinguish between natural learning (e.g. learning to walk or learning to ride a bicycle or
learning to swim) and symbolic learning (preeminently learning to speak an adult language, or learning how to add, or learning the names of the capitol cities of the states), or to put it another way,
between learning1 and learning2. The former is a matter of learning to function in relation to the laws
of nature, the latter is learning to function in the realm of civil law, which consists preeminently of
language.
Fifth, and last, if it is not obvious, it should be made clear that the relationship between wild
language and civilized language is not symmetrical. In other words, they are different types of things.
In particular, the relationship is not like the relationship between two different adult languages, such
as English and Chinese. Rather, it is, as I discussed in Chapter 1, like the relationship between nakedness and clothing. Chinese and English are like two different kinds of clothing, but nakedness is prior
to all clothing both diachronically and synchronically: We all come into the world naked and we go
out of the world naked and we are always naked under our clothing. In fact we wear clothing precisely to transform our nakedness into a civilized form, so nakedness is prior to clothing. Thus we put
on clothes in order to transact in civil society, but we take off our clothes in order to do the wild thing.
And the wild thing is always there under the facade of civil intercourse. So in the final analysis we are
always doing the wild thing; sometimes, however, we do it symbolically.
Or to put it another way, the relationship between wild language and civilized language is like
the relationship between the ground and a city: a city not only stands on the ground but it consists of
materials that come from the ground, such as clay, wood, stone, cement, iron, etc.1 So the kind of loss
that takes place in the “learning” of adult language is not really a loss, but rather it is a matter of taking the wild things and transforming them into civilized forms and using them in civilized ways for
civilized ends. As Jakobson said in the above quote, the process child language learning
transforms the so-called “wild sounds” of the babbling period into entities of linguistic value.
Thus the child’s learning of language is not a process of learning in the ordinary sense, nor is it a process of loss in the ordinary sense, but rather it is a process of civilization, or citification, or colonization of the natural capabilities of the child. In short, in terms of the theory of signs, it is a process of
symbolization.
1. Note the presuppositions which govern the grammar of determiners here. Without prior specification one must say “A
city is built on the ground” because the natural presupposition is that the ground is one and cities are many.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
123
The Dialogical Context
The Symbolic Gap
Now that we have the three phases of the linguistic situation laid out before us, I would like to
go back to consider them in more detail. To begin, let us consider a more detailed characterization by
Jakobson of the phonetic richness of the wild, or babbling stage.
The actual beginning stages of language, as is known, are preceded by the so-called babbling period, which
brings to light in many children an astonishing quantity and diversity of sound productions. A child, during his
babbling period, can accumulate articulations which are never found within a single language or even a group of
languages - consonants of any place of articulation, palatalized and rounded consonants, sibilants, affricates,
clicks, complex vowels, diphthongs, etc. According to the findings of phonetically trained observers and to the
summarizing statement of Grégoire (B101), the child at the height of his babbling period “is capable of producing all conceivable sounds.” (1968, p. 21, emphasis added)
So in the beginning the child is not just phonetically competent, but he is a phonetic virtuoso. The
child has a greater mastery of his phonetic capabilities than the typical adult.
Then comes the gap, the strange deflation of capability that marks the beginning of the transition from infantile babbling to adult language.
As all observers acknowledge with great surprise, the child then loses nearly all of his ability to produce
sounds in passing over from the pre-language stage to the first acquisition of words, i.e., to the first genuine
stage of language. (p. 21, emphasis added)
And Jakobson described the “opulence” of wild language and the characteristics of the subsequent
gap in another place as follows.
A. N. Gvozdev, the observant pioneer of a systematic inquiry into children’s language, noted that in their babbling children pronounce “sounds that bring to mind snapping, dripping, splottering, and the twitter of birds,
sounds which are not only lacking in adults but which adults are sometimes even unable to produce. Later, during the acquisition of his native language, the child himself loses the ability to emit such sounds and clusters”
(1961:120). Those commentators who are inclined to derive the first verbal utterances of a child at the end of his
infancy from his babbling activities disregard the relevant fact that babbling and the beginnings of verbal activities are as a rule clearly separated in children’s behavior either as two concurrent yet quite distinct forms of
activity or rather as two temporally delimited stages—a shorter or longer interval of reticence or even silence
often detaches the new, speech era from the earlier, babbling phase—and that the variety and opulence of the
babbled sounds yield to a rigorous sparseness of speech sounds. (1979, p. 62)
Now the point I want to make here is that this gap is of profound significance because it is, in
the technical terminology of sign theory, the manifestation of the symbolic cut. Recall from Chapter 2
that all signs are derived by a cut in the prior, and here we see the effects of the symbolic type of cut.
This cut is the beginning of the boundary between natural signs and symbolic signs. This is the cut
whereby vocal sounds are cut off from their natural sign value, which they have by virtue of their
own being, as the first step in the process of transforming them into symbolic signs. First they are
taken to be symbolic signs, and then they must go through the process of being reframed and revalued
as symbolic signs. And in the middle of this process, after a sound or a class of sounds has been taken
to be used as symbolic signs, but before they have been reframed and integrated into the logic of the
symbolic realm, there is a gap. In the meantime, they are in a state of suspended animation such that
they cannot be used in wild language and they cannot yet be used properly in civil society. So this gap
is of profound and systemic significance throughout the whole fabric of language because it constitutes the foundation of linguistic significance. It is this cutting off of the prior natural value of sounds
124
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
which provides the very ground and substance from which the structures of symbolic significance are
constructed.
And this gap is also of profound significance for the theory of language because it proves that
the development of the ability to talk is radically different from the development of the ability to
walk, and thus it proves that language is not essentially a biological thing. Just imagine how strange it
would be if the normal child were able to run around with the grace and dexterity of a cat at one year
of age, and then suddenly was stricken with a radical loss of capability, for no discernible physical
cause, such that he was barely able to crawl around on all fours for a period of time, and then he gradually developed the ability to walk in a formal civilized way, but was never able to recover the vituosity he had at one year of age. Of course we must bear in mind that there is some variability in this
scenario, but subject to the clarifications discussed below, every normal child goes through this
sequence of “development” in the course of “learning” to speak language.
In as much as this gap is of such profound significance, it is well worth digging a little deeper
into it. And the first point that must be made is that we must not be lured into taking the words that
have been used to describe this gap literally. One must not think of the “loss” or “deflation” as a matter of reduction in size or quantity or value, like the deflation of a balloon, or the deflation of money.
Indeed, all physical metaphors are inappropriate and misleading because this is not a physical phenomenon. It is a symbolic phenomenon. It is not a loss of physical capability; rather, the capability to
produce sounds, the means of production, is taken over by the symbolic system. What happens is this:
when the child begins to think of the sounds he produces as the bearers of symbolic significance, they
cease to be wild sounds, they become civilized sounds, and as such they must be produced in accord
with the standards established by language, and thus the child is precluded from producing those
sounds freely. Thus the child’s mastery of adult language begins with the symbolic captivation and
repression of the child’s natural capacity to produce sounds naturally. In order to transact with adults
in the medium of adult language, the child must sacrifice his ability to express himself freely, spontaneously, and naturally in the medium of sound. In sum, adult language begins with the symbolic take
over of wild language, which is manifest as a loss of the ability to produce sounds freely. But this is
not a physical loss, it is a symbolic loss.
And the second point that must be made about this gap is that one must not think of it as an
empty space. It is not simply an absence, as one might imagine in thinking of a physical gap, like the
gap between the earth and the moon, but rather it is a symbolic absence. In other words, it is a duplicitous absence. In other words, it is not really an absence at all. A certain capability might be absent on
some subsequent level, but it is still present at a deeper level. So the physical capability is never really
lost; it is always there under the surface even if the child, or the adult, is inhibited from using it. Thus
looking at it from a comprehensive perspective it would be more accurate to say that the capability is
repressed, as Freud did, rather than lost.
And the loss of capability is not a gross homogenous loss, like the draining of water from a
lake, but rather it is a hierarchically stratified system of loss, or rather, repression. In fact, the negative stratification of the repression of the capability to produce wild sounds is precisely the complement of the positive stratification of the adult phonological system.1 To put it another way, if the
entities of linguistic value are derived by the transformation of wild sounds, as Jakobson said in the
above quote, then the gain of a linguistic entity entails the loss of a wild entity. So the same universal
principles, the universal principles of markedness, govern both the stratificational development of the
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
125
The Dialogical Context
phonological system and the stratificational loss of wild sounds, because these “developments” are
two sides of the same coin.
And it is worth noting that this metaphor of the symbolic entity as a coin is not just appropriate as a metaphor, but is also appropriate at a deeper level of analysis. It is not that the linguistic entity
is similar to a coin, as a person who can run fast is similar to a gazelle, but that a linguistic entity is a
coin. Every linguistic entity is the same type of entity as a two-sided coin and every two-sided coin is
the same type of entity as a linguistic entity. Or to put it another way, every symbolic entity is a twosided coin, and vice versa. Every element of the symbolic system is derived by the substitution of
symbolic value for natural value, and thereby becomes a coin of exchange in the realm of symbolic
exchange. Thus we have the ordinary expression in English “to coin an expression.” But I am suggesting that it is perfectly general: All elements of symbolic value are “coined” by the process of
symbolic exchange.1 And thus, all systems of symbolic value, and all elements of symbolic value,
consist of two facets, and those two facets, the natural and the symbolic, are divided, or joined, by the
gap.
The Synchronic and Diachronic Dimensions of the Symbolic Gap
Up to this point I have allowed a misrepresentation of the gap to stand. The tables above represent this gap, or rather misrepresent this gap, as an empty space. And consistent with this misrepresentation, I have only cited quotes from Jakobson that speak of the gap in general categorial terms as
if it were a general categorial loss of capability. I have done so for ease of exposition, but now we are
at a point in the development of our understanding of the gap where we must begin to deal with the
fact that this gap is actually a very complex structured and that this structure is manifest in systematic
patterns.
Let us begin by looking at the general shape or pattern of the gap. We have already seen the
general pattern of the symbolic gap as it unfolds in the dimension of time in the process of child language acquisition: first there is wild language, then the gap, then civilized language. So the various
tables above can be taken as representations of the general pattern of the chronological manifestation
of this pattern where the prior-subsequent relation in time is represented by the left-right relation on
the page.
But, as Jakobson argued in many of his works, the characteristic pattern of the symbolic gap2
is also manifest synchronically in innumerable ways, some of which we will illustrate in the next section. Jakobson has argued that this characteristic pattern is something like the atomic element of language and that it is manifest throughout the entire fabric of language, in the formal structure of
language, in the semantics of language, and in the pragmatics of language. In other words, what
Jakobson tried to establish is that the same pattern is manifest in both the synchronic and the diachro-
1. As I said above, the stratification of the adult phonological system was explained in detail by Jakobson in the second
section of his study of child language, entitled “Stratification of the phonological system”, and has, of course, subsequently been voluminously amplified by him and by others. The vast literature on markedness speaks to this issue. For
a recent review of the literature see Battistella, 1990.
1. See “Language as Medium of Substitution” beginning on page 194 for a discussion of symbolic exchange.
126
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
nic dimension. So it would seem that there is an underlying principle at work in language that causes
a similarity of pattern akin to the biological phenomenon where ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny.
The relations of equivalence by which the general diachronic pattern of the gap can be mapped onto
the general synchronic pattern of the gap, or vice versa, are represented in Figure 7. Obviously, the
FIGURE 7.
The Paradigm of the Symbolic Gap Including Both the Diachronic and Synchronic Dimensions
The Synchronic Structure of the Gap
Language
The Gap
Wild Language
The Diachronic Sequence of the Gap
Wild Language
The Gap
Language
synchronic structure of the gap as I have represented it here is nothing other than the structure of
duplicity, and of course, that it the point I am trying to make: The situation of language, and the gap,
is a function of the logic of duplicity which governs the realm of signs.
Of course, in considering Figure 7 we must bear in mind that this representation, like all representations, is necessarily misleading in a number of different ways. One way in which this representation is misleading is that it is an oversimplification of the reality: it omits many aspects of the
situation of the gap. Some of the complexities of the symbolic gap that have been omitted here will be
brought to light as we explore the duplicity of language further in the following pages, especially in
the exploration of phonology in Chapter 6.
2. Jakobson did not talk about this pattern in terms of the concept of the gap however. He talked about it in terms of the
implicational relations that are manifest in the stratification of the phonological system, and language in general. And
he also talked about it in terms of the universal principles of solidarity, or later principles of markedness, that govern
the stratification of language. But underlying all of the various ways of talking about this relationship the general principle is one of implication or priority, depending on how you look at it. For example, one of the markedness principles
is this: the presence of /k/ implies the presence of /p/ and /t/. As I pointed out in Chapter 2, in accord with Peirce’s principles of diagrammatic logic (see Roberts, 1973), the relationship between the two levels of duplicity as I have been
representing them is an implicational relation such that “If Universe2 then Universe1.”
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
127
The Dialogical Context
And in addition to misleading by omission, there are several ways in which this representation
is positively misleading because of the inadequacy of the means of representation. For now I would
just like to clarify two points that are positively misleading.
First, looking at the representation of the synchronic structure of the gap, this representation is
misleading in that it looks like the gap is just a shadow that language casts on the surface of wild language. But the gap is actually a hole in the realm of wild language, an empty space that has been cut
out of the realm of wild language. It is the empty space left in the realm of wild language by the wild
sounds that are cut out, and taken to be used as symbolic signs, and eventually transformed into elements of civilized language. And at the same time the gap is also the no-man’s land between the prior
realm of wild language and the subsequent realm of symbolic language, the space of possibilities that
are already not wild language and are not yet civilized language, the in-between space that is neither
the one nor the other, the space of suspended animation, the space of frozen inhibition, the space
where the child is struck dumb. It is the gap of the special human type of alienated being, whence the
special human type of existential anxiety.
The second point with respect to which this representation is misleading is this. Figure 7
might be taken to imply that the diachronic dimension underlies and is prior to the synchronic dimension. This is not true. Recall from the explanation of the natural logic of categories and the theory of
signs in Chapter 2 that the first type of relation is sameness and the second type of relation is difference. From this it follows that synchronic relations (where “synchronic” means “at the same time”)
are prior to diachronic relations (where “diachronic” means “at different times”). In other words, the
duplicitous logic of signs is prior to the playing out of that logic in the sequence of events which
unfold in the child’s learning process. Thus it is wrong to suppose that the similarity between the synchronic structure of language and the sequence of events in time is a function of history. Rather chronological sequence and hierarchical structure are the same because they are both a function of the
same logic, the logic of duplicity, which is prior to both time and structure. So the gap in the underpinnings of language, whether viewed synchronically or diachronically, is a function of the duplicitous logic of symbolic signs, and not the function of a biological process unfolding in time.
Finally, as a way of illustrating the fact that this gap is not essentially a chronological phenomenon, I would like to suggest that this gap is also manifest in various ways as a function of the
difference in situational frame of reference. For example, I would suggest that the phenomenon commonly known as “stage fright” is a manifestation of the symbolic gap. When we consider ourselves to
be “on stage” we are all struck to a greater or lesser degree by this mysterious inhibiting force, but it
does not apply when we consider ourselves to be “off stage.” And it is crucial to note that this inhibition is not a function of any physical characteristics of the situation; it is a function of the way we
frame the situation ourselves. Thus we might be struck with stage fright on stage, or in the front of a
class room, or when passing through customs when we are asked an unexpected question by a customs agent, or in any other situation when we have doubts about our ability to perform. There is no
stage fright when we feel that we are free to act spontaneously, but rather when we feel that we must
perform in accord with some external standard of correctness, and we aren’t sure what that standard
is. This is the situation of the child when he first tries to speak the adult language.
A similar non-chronological manifestation of the gap is the phenomenon of stuttering. Stuttering is an intermittent form of the gap. There are certain chronological parameters in stuttering. For
example, there is no stuttering in the babbling stage. It is much more common in children than in
adults. And it occurs sporadically in the speech of all adults. But it is not essentially a chronological
128
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
phenomenon because, even in those for whom it is a persistent problem, it comes and goes at least in
part as function of the way they frame their situation. A famous example that illustrates the point well
is the country singer Mell Tillis. His stuttering was often so severe that he could not speak at all. But
he discovered that if he sang what he wanted to say, the inhibition disappeared completely and he
could “speak” fluently. I saw him in an interview on television and he would talk for a while until he
got stuck stuttering something and then he would change into the singing mode for a sentence or so
and then he would switch back to normal talking and so on. I take this to be evidence that the inhibition and repression of the symbolic gap is not a function of chronology or of biology, but rather a
function of the gap between the natural and the symbolic frame of mind.
The General Shape of the Symbolic Gap
When we try to observe the concrete manifestations of the symbolic gap in either the process
of child language development or in the structure of language we must not expect to be able to see
every detail of the structure of the gap displayed overtly on the surface. One cannot expect this
because, in the first place, the gap is an absence, and therefore cannot be seen directly at all. Secondly, one cannot expect to see the entire structure of the gap displayed even indirectly on the surface
because language has depth. In this regard language is like a biological organism: most of what goes
on in the development and functioning of an organism is hidden below the surface. So one can only
see those developments and those structures which happen to appear on the surface of language as it
develops, as it changes, and as it moves, and as it decays. That is why Jakobson brought together in
one book observations from the disparate realms of Child Language, Aphasia, and Phonological Universals. We can only expect to find fleeting and fragmentary manifestations of the gap appearing on
the surface of language.
Furthermore, we should not expect all of the manifestations of the gap to be similar in any
superficial way. The logic of the gap is very basic and very general, and so it is manifest in a wide
variety of different functional and structural ways. In this regard language is like a tree: some manifestations of the gap are trunk-like, some are branch-like, some are twig-like, and some are leaflike.
In other words, some manifestations of the gap are general and some are specific. The more general
manifestations are more basic and the more specific manifestations grow out of the prior ones. And
the more general manifestations of the gap are clear and striking, while the more specific manifestations of the gap, taken one at a time, are evanescent and may seem trivial. As Jakobson said (quoting
Jaensh),
Development proceeds, “from an undifferentiated original condition to a greater and greater differentiation and
separation.” (p, 65)
But underlying all of the many different kinds of fragmentary manifestations of the symbolic gap one
can see the same general logic at work, i.e. the logic of duplicity.
Let us turn now to consider some of the ways in which the gap is manifest, beginning with the
most basic and most general. Although there is much variability even at the most general level, as we
will discuss in a moment, there are children who manifest the completely general form of the gap
exactly as described by Jakobson above and exactly as represented in the tables above. In other
words, there are some children who vocalize freely in the wild stage, and then they are suddenly
struck totally dumb. And so for a period of time these children produce neither wild sounds nor civilized sounds. We might represent this situation as in Figure 8 which I derived, literally, from Figure 7
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
129
The Dialogical Context
FIGURE 8.
The Most General Form of the Gap: The Child is Struck Totally Dumb
The Gap
Wild Language
by deleting the level of adult language and expanding the shadowy level of the gap to cover the entire
ream of wild language. (As you can see, I actually let a little of the underlying level show around the
edges of the gap just to represent the fact that the child’s natural capability to produce sounds is still
there, to represent the fact that this is not really a loss of capability, but rather a repression of ability.)
We must hasten to point out that a total gap such as this is a highly unnatural and unstable situation, because children are naturally exuberant and cannot be easily repressed. In other words, children seem to have a strong drive to play with everything within their reach, including their
capabilities for producing vocal sounds. For this reason, this state of total repression of verbal expression is unusual, and even when it does occur it rarely lasts long. Jakobson, citing several references,
including Meumann’s Die Sprache Des Kindes, described the rarity and brevity of this state thus:
a short period may sometimes intervene between the stage of spontaneous babbling and that of true language
development, in which children are completely mute. For the most part, however, one stage merges unobtrusively into the other, so that the acquisition of vocabulary and the disappearance of the prelanguage inventory
occur concurrently. (p. 29)
We will explore the phenomena referred to in the second sentence in a moment, but for now the point
I want to focus on is the fact that this state of total repression does happen, but it is rare and usually
brief. It is much more common for the repression of wild language to be only partial. And even a
child who begins with a total repression of wild language will, in most cases, soon reduce the scope
of repression to conform with that of the normal child. It should be noted that there are reputed to be
rare instances of children who maintain a total repression of verbal expression for a very long time,
and then abruptly break out speaking the adult language with an advanced degree of capability, which
demonstrates that the child had been learning the adult language passively under the cover of this
wall of silence.
Before we consider the more normal pattern of partial repression, I would like to parenthetically frame the discussion in terms of the basic question that these facts pose for the theory of language. To begin with it should be noted that, although these facts are clear enough, and are not at all
obscure or arcane, being more on the order of common knowledge, and are certainly a matter of linguistic knowledge, as is evident from the numerous citations given by Jakobson, these facts have
been almost entirely ignored by linguists. And the reason these facts have been ignored, I would suggest, is because they are inconsistent with the conventional point of view, and consequently, with the
mainstream theories of language and language learning. Nevertheless, the time honored tradition of
ignoring inconvenient facts notwithstanding, an adequate theory of language must explain these facts.
And I suggest that Peirce’s theory of signs explains the symbolic gap as the manifestation of the sym-
130
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
bolic cut. Or to put it in a nutshell, the symbolic gap is the symbolic cut. I will elaborate this explanation below, but what is clear at this preliminary stage of the discussion is that there is a law at work
here. And, I would suggest that the child who is struck totally dumb is making an error of overgeneralizing this law as is commonly seen throughout the process of child language acquisition. For example, when a child first learns the law of pluralization in English i.e., informally, add an “s”, it is not
unusual for him to apply it too generally so that a word to which it does not apply such as “sheep” is
incorrectly pluralized by the child as “sheeps.” So in regard to the situation of the child who is struck
totally dumb the question is this: What is the law that the child is overgeneralizing? It would stand to
reason, since the effect of the law is that the child ceases to do something, that the force of the law
must be some sort of “thou shalt not.” So we can formulate the basic theoretical question in regard to
the law that governs the symbolic gap as follows:
THOU SHALT NOT WHAT?
We can formulate the question, but we are not yet in a position to answer the question because we
have thus far attained only the most rudimentary understanding of the gap produced by this law. But
we will bear this question in mind as we go on to follow the evolution of the gap from the general to
the more specific, from the trunk to the branches to the twigs.
Now returning to consider the general patterns of the gap, the next logical step is that the
scope of the repression of wild language is reduced from total to partial. And as mentioned above,
this form of the gap is far more normal. We can represent this development from the foregoing by
simply reducing the size of the gap as in Figure 9. As always, we must emphasize that this represenFIGURE 9.
The More Normal Form of the Gap: The Child is Struck Partially Dumb
The Gap
Wild Language
tation, like all representations, is also a misrepresentation. It is not misleading, if understood as
intended, but any representation is liable to be misunderstood in any number of different ways in
accord with the saying, “Where there is a will there is a way.” So it can be misunderstood. We will
add some of the subsequent complexities of the situation to this representation in a moment, but
before it gets any more complex, I would like to transform Figure 9 into a three dimensional representation and change our perspective so that we can more directly represent the fact that the gap is a
hole in the realm of wild language, rather than a mere shadow on the surface, as it appears in Figure
9. We can represent the hole-like character of the gap in wild language as in Figure 10.
From this angle we can see that the gap is a hole in the realm of wild sounds. This hole is the
category of sounds with respect to which the child is struck dumb. But, as we know, while these
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
131
The Dialogical Context
FIGURE 10.
The Gap as a Hole in Wild Language
The Gap
Wild Language
sounds might disappear from the child’s repertoire for a time in some cases, in all normal children
these sounds will sooner or later reappear as symbolic signs in the phonological framework of the
adult language. So these sounds do not simply disappear. They are first taken out of the realm of wild
language in order to be used as bearers of symbolic meaning (leaving the gap as represented in the
above figures) and then, as Jakobson said in the above quote, these sounds are eventually transformed
from “wild sounds” into the “civilized sounds” of language. If we change our perspective once again,
we can represent this latter development - the reappearance of these repressed sounds as the phonological space of language proper - so that we can show the general relationship between language,
wild language, and the gap in one representation as in Figure 11.
FIGURE 11.
The Relationship between Wild Language, Language, and the Gap
It should be emphasized that this does not represent a new situation. It is just another way of
representing the same paradigm that was represented in two other ways in Figure 7 on page 127. The
three representations are pictures of the situation of language in relation to wild language and the gap
as seen from three different perspectives. The first representation (in Figure 7) is intended to convey
the fact that the three elements are manifest as hierarchical structure in the synchronic dimension of
language. The second representation (in Figure 7) is intended to convey the fact that the three elements are manifest as sequential stages in the diachronic dimension of language. And the third repre-
132
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
sentation (in Figure 11) is intended to convey the fact that language is parasitic upon wild language in
the sense that it is derived from wild language by the usurpation and transformation of wild sounds,
which leaves a corresponding gap in the natural capabilities of the human being, a kind of incompetence, a kind of phonetic lameness, which at the general level we are looking at is the mark of a being
who has attained symbolic competence, or the mark of a symbolic person, e.g. Oedipus.
Before we go on, I would like to state in verbal terms some of the general characteristics of the
situation that I have tried to represent in terms of Pierce’s diagrammatic logic above.
1.
2.
3.
As is obvious, the relationship between wild language and language is mediated by the gap. In
other words, the gap is not only the boundary between these two types of language, but it is also
the bridge between them. As sounds go from wild language into language they pass through the
gap. Thus every symbolic sign is marked as such by its passage through the gap.
The relationship between language and wild language is asymmetric in many different ways. First,
as we have seen, wild language is prior to language, not only chronologically, but also in terms of
the typology of signs. Second, the sounds of language are a proper subset of the sounds of wild
language. In other words, the symbolic universe of discourse is a proper subset of the natural universe of discourse.
Third, there is a relation of exclusion between the sounds of language and the sound of wild language, i.e., if sound X is used in language, then it is not available for wild language. And if a certain sound is not used in language, then it is available to be used in wild language. This is a
consequence of the fact that symbolic phenomena, or rather, symbolic epiphenomena only exist
vicariously through the incorporation, or cannibalization, of natural phenomena.1
Now that we have a general picture of the shape of the relationship between language, wild
language, and the gap, we can go on to consider some of the complexities that have been omitted, and
soon we will be in a position to consider some specific and concrete examples of the gap.
The Relationship between Speaking and Hearing in Relation to the Symbolic Gap
Up to this point, following Jakobson’s analysis of the process of child language acquisition,
we have been ignoring, as Jakobson did, a very important dimension of the linguistic situation,
namely, hearing. Thus far we have been focusing upon the development of the child’s ability to
speak, to the exclusion of the entire dimension of hearing. So let us broaden our scope to include the
dimension of hearing in our conceptualization of the linguistic situation.
There is, of course, a well developed and deeply entrenched conventional conceptualization of
the relationship between speaking and hearing, but as usual, the conventional conceptualization is not
just simplistic, but is naively partisan. So we must reconsider the conventional conceptualization of
the relationship between speaking and hearing, and we must reassess the situation in the present
frame of reference.
1. I am reminded of some rituals in ancient central American cultures in which the priest empowered himself as agent of
the Other by putting on the skin of the sacrificial victim like clothing over his own natural skin. More commonly such
substitutive sacrifice is enacted using distinctive marks of the victim such as blood, heart, head, ears, horn, feet, etc.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
133
The Dialogical Context
In the conventional worldview which is currently prevailing, which is the worldview of the
science of physics, speech and hearing are thought of as two parts of the same thing, two mutually
interdependent aspects of the same organic whole, like the front and the back of a horse. But in this
case, the thing of which the two are considered to be parts, the communicative situation, is not an
organic thing, like a horse. Indeed, it is not really a thing at all. The conventional idea, which is based
on a physical conceptualization of the communicative situation, is that a communication consists of
two parts, a sending and a receiving, a speaking and a hearing, and the hearing is the natural continuation of the speaking, just as effect follows cause. Or, to put it in more concrete terms, it is like throwing a ball: If you throw a ball up, it will come down, and the coming down is just the natural
continuation of the going up. And if you imagine two people playing catch with this ball, where A
throws it to B and B catches it, then B throws it back to A and A catches it, you have the conventional
conceptualization of the relationship between speaking and hearing in the communicative situation.
And in as much as this is the conventional conceptualization of the situation, this is the frame of reference, the universe of discourse, in the context of which the mainstream linguistic dialogue takes
place. So most discussions of communication, of language, and of the relation between speaking and
hearing take place in this universe of discourse, which can be represented as in Figure 12. This particFIGURE 12.
The Conventional Conceptualization of the Relationship between Speaking and Hearing
ular representation is from Saussure’s Course in General Linguistics (p. 11), but a similar representation can be found in almost every introductory textbook on communication or linguistics. And, as I
will show in “Language as Means of Communication” beginning on page 163, this conceptualization
underlies and frames almost all discussion of these matters in every field from physics, to engineering, to biology, to psychology, to anthropology, to linguistics. And I will argue at length in that section that this conceptualization is profoundly wrong. First, I will argue that it is an error to assume
that language is essentially a means of communication. Or to put it the other way, I will show that
language is not essentially a means of communication. And secondly, I will show that the prevailing
conventional assumptions as to what sort of thing communication is are wrong. That is, I will argue
that the theory of information and communication systems that has evolved from the point of view of
the science of physics might be relevant and useful for the understanding and the management of
physical systems such as a telephone system or a radar systems, but it is misleading and useless when
it comes to the understanding and the management of animate systems, and it is especially useless
when it comes to human communication and language.
So the first thing we must do in considering the relationship between speaking and hearing is
to reframe the issue. And the first point we must insist on in reframing this question is that we are not
concerned here with the physics of speech or hearing. And we are not concerned with the chemistry
134
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
of speech or hearing. And we are not concerned with the biology of speech or hearing. We are concerned with the semiology of speech and hearing. That is, we are concerned with the function of
speech and hearing in the realm of signs, and especially in the realm of symbolic signs, that is, language. And, while there are certain to be aspects of the physics and biology of speech and hearing
that are relevant to the way speech and hearing function in systems of signs, we must frame our basic
conceptualization of systems of signs in terms of the theory of signs, and then we can begin to consider the question of how systems of signs relate to physics and biology. Recall that, as I pointed out
in Chapter 1, the theory of physics is a symbolic object, but the theory of signs is not a physical
object. Thus we should not begin an inquiry into the nature of language on the basis of the theoretical
premises of the science of physics, or of biology, but on the basis of the premises of the theory of
signs. Conceptually, the theory of signs is upstream from the theory of physics.
So, contrary to the conventional view, which is the physics point of view, we must begin by
abandoning the premise that speech and hearing are related as cause and effect in the realm of signs. I
concede that sign and effect may be very strongly related in some cases, such as in those phenomena
known to ethologists as “imprinting”, (which is a suggestive metaphor in itself), but even in such
cases the cause-like relation is quite different from the cause/effect relation in the physical sense,
because the sign relation is necessarily mediated by perception and judgement. And, of course, not all
signs have such an automatic effect as imprinting.
Retreating from the extreme physicalist position, one might want to take the view that, while
speech and hearing might not be related as cause and effect in the physical sense, there is nevertheless
a relation of dependence between the two modes of behavior that is similar. There is no question that
in some cases speech and hearing do seem to be linked together as elements in the chain of causation.
For example, if I say, “Please pass the potatoes,” under the right circumstances there is a good chance
that my addressee will pass the potatoes. In such a case my speaking caused the other to do something
that he would not otherwise have done, and therefore in some sense or other my speaking caused the
other to hear and to do something. Of course, this is true, but this is not the only function of speech. In
fact this use of speech is quite rare. The assumption underlying the above reasoning is that we only
speak in order to be heard, so that we can get something, and therefore speaking is dependent upon
hearing in the sense that the possibility of being heard is a condition of speaking. But this assumption
is not true. There are modes of speech that are not intended to be heard and are not intended to cause
someone else to do something. So speech is sometimes completely unrelated to hearing. And even
when speech is related to hearing, it is not always related to hearing in the same way. That is, if we
say that in some frames of reference speech has a cause-like relation to hearing, then we have to say
that there are two different types of cause-like relationships between speaking and hearing.
Before we develop this view further, we must clear up some ambiguities in the word
“speech.” First, we must distinguish between literal usage and metaphorical usage. In the metaphorical sense anything at all can be characterized as speech, and in a sense everything is a type of speech
for the following reason. If the universe is lawful, as the scientific worldview assumes, then everything is related to everything else. Indeed the interconnectedness of things is implicit in the very concept of “uni-verse.” And if everything is connected to everything else, then anything can be taken as
a sign, and can be read as a sign that conveys information about the things with which it is connected.
I would say that this is the quest of the scientific enterprise—to read the signs and to understand what
they mean. So in this sense anything can be said to “speak.” It is in this sense that Psalm 19, for
example, says,
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
135
The Dialogical Context
The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech,
and night unto night sheweth knowledge.
And it is in this sense that “Able’s blood speaks” (Genesis 4:11):
the voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground.
And it is in this sense that “eyes speak” in the old love song:
Speak to me only with thine eyes
Putting the metaphorical sense of “speech” aside, we are left with the literal sense. And in the
literal sense the word is used at two levels of generality. In the most general sense, “speech” refers to
the production of vocal sounds, as opposed to nonvocal behavior, such as pointing, winking, smiling,
walking, sleeping, etc. In a more narrow sense the word is used to refer only to the production of
vocal sounds that are intended to convey words and other elements in the medium of language
proper. So in this narrow sense, “speech” only refers to the production of language. If one takes the
word in this narrow sense, what one does on the level of wild language could not be called “speech.”
In this case, depending on the character of the wild sounds produced and their functions they might
be called “babbling”, “cooing”, “gurgling”, “groaning”, “sighing”, etc., or perhaps there might not be
an appropriate name for them in language, in which case they would remain in the realm of the nameless and outside of the realm of language. So to distinguish these two senses of the word, the general
and the more narrow, we might designate them, in keeping with the logic of duplicity, speech1 and
speech2 respectively, the latter referring only to language proper, and the former referring to the
whole sphere of language including both wild language and language proper.
Which sense of the word “speech” we choose to use has no bearing on the issue, so long as we
are consistent. But there are two extraneous reasons to prefer to use the broad literal sense in the
present discussion. First, it will be easier because we want to talk about both wild language and language, and it is easier to use the single word “speech” than the phrase “the production of vocal
sounds.” Second, there are certain instances of wild language that I think deserve to be called
“speech.” I will discuss some examples of this type of wild speech below, but let me mention an
example. At six months of age one of my own children would frequently point to hot things, such as
a hot air register or hot food, and say “Hot!” with every appearance of intending to communicate the
fact that it was hot, just as an adult might do in language. And yet there is good reason, which I will
explain below, to believe that this was an act on the level of wild language. It seems to me that this act
has every right to be called a “speech act” and yet it is an act on the level of wild language. For this
reason, I think it is preferable, especially in the present discussion, to use the word “speech” in the
broader sense so as to include the possibility of wild speech acts.
Now with this clarification of the word “speech”, let us return to our inquiry into the relationship between speech and hearing. The following proposition is commonly considered to be a truism:1
we speak in order to be heard
1. I cite no less an authority for my assertion than Jakobson himself who explicitly characterized this proposition as a
“truism” (1979, p. 95). The same premise is subscribed to by both Jakobson and Morris Halle in their influential Fundamentals of Language (1956, p. 34).
136
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
Being regarded as a truism this is commonly taken, by scientist and layman, by communication engineer and linguist, to be the principle which governs the relationship between speech and hearing. But
unfortunately it is only a truism, and not the plain truth.1 The truth is that sometimes we speak in
order to be heard, but at other times we do not speak in order to be heard. In other words, sometimes
we just speak, without intending to be heard. Indeed, sometimes we speak without any intent whatever. And if this is true, then the relationship between speech and hearing is quite different from what
it is commonly assumed to be. So let us put this truism aside and reconsider the relationship between
speech and hearing anew.
I suggest that in order to make sense of the relationship between speech and hearing, as well
as many other things in language, one must distinguish three different levels of speech function. At
the most primitive level, human beings produce sounds independently of the intent that they should
be heard, even independently of the possibility that they might be heard. There many different modes
at this most primitive level of speech. For example, children frequently play with themselves verbally
cooing, gurgling, crooning, or playing sound games, or imitating animals or machines, etc., without
any intent that they should be heard. They are not doing it in relation to anyone else. It is speech for
its own intrinsic pleasure.2 Another example of this primitive type of speech: under the influence of
shock, or overwhelming pain, or pleasure, etc. a child (or an adult, for that matter) sometimes emits
sounds that are spontaneous expressions of his feelings. This type of speech does not assume a hearer
and it is not intended to cause an effect in another. Then there is a second level of speech function
where the speaker produces sounds, not necessarily language sounds, but such sounds as crying,
groaning, sighing, etc., that are intended to influence another person. Obviously this type of speech is
intended to be heard, and it is intended to produce an effect. Then there is a third level, which is the
level of language proper, where the speaker produces sounds which represent a word or other symbolic sign to another person. This third type of speech is also intended to be heard, and it is intended
to produce an effect, but the means by which it produces an effect is different: on the second level the
sound itself causes the effect, but on the third level the effect is brought about by the symbolic sign
that is represented by the sound. In other words, on the third level the effect is symbolic.
I hasten to point out that this is not by any means a new way of looking at the functions of
speech. Trubetzkoy posited this tripartite categorization of speech functions as the foundation of the
theory of phonology in his classic Principles of Phonology (the original German edition was published in 1939). He took this categorization as being self-evident, reasoning along the following lines:
Since the prerequisites for human speech are always a speaker, one or several hearers, and a topic to be discussed, each linguistic utterance has three aspects: it is at once a manifestation (or expression) of the speaker, an
appeal to the hearer or hearers, and a representation of the topic. (p. 14, italics in original)
Obviously, there is a natural relation of priority amongst these three elements: the speaker is first, the
hearer is second, and the topic is third. And Trubetzkoy incorporated this natural relationship into his
conceptualization of the functions of speech such that the manifestation of the speaker is prior to the
appeal to the hearer, and the appeal to the hearer is prior to the representation of the topic. Thus we
can represent Trubetzkoy’s conceptualization of the functions of speech as in Figure 10.
1. By the way this is a nice example of the principle that a marked variant is less true than the original form, i.e. a “truism” is less than true because it is “true” + “-ism.”
2. I think this most wild level of language is what Sapir had in mind when he wrote in regard to the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins of “his wild joy in the sheer sound of words.” (Selected Writings, p. 501, emphasis added.)
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
137
The Dialogical Context
FIGURE 13.
Trubetzkoy’s Tripartite Categorization of the Functions of Speech
The Level of Representation
The Level of Appeal
The Level of Manifestation
Trubetzkoy pointed out that this self-evident typology of speech functions had been previously noticed by Karl Bühler, who had also taken it as the basis of the theory of language (in his
Sprachtheorie, which had been published in 1933).
And Trubetzkoy asserted that it follows from the fact that there are three types of speech function that there must be three corresponding types of phonology - the phonology of expression, the
phonology of appeal, and the phonology of representation.
Since phonology, in contrast with phonetics, must deal with the functions of the phonic aspect of human speech,
it cannot be limited to the representative function....What seems to follow from this argument...is that now two
new subdivisions of phonology are to be created, namely, a phonology of expression and a phonology of appeal.
(p. 15)
Of course, if follows from this conceptualization of the functions of speech together with the theory
of signs that the function of representation, which is the symbolic function, is built up on the foundation of and consists of the underlying functions of manifestation and appeal. So any speech act in the
linguistic universe of discourse must consist of a mixture of all three functions.1
Now in the linguistic dialogue the functions of speech have commonly been divided along
similar lines into two components, a relationship component and a message component. And some
linguistic analysts have naively assumed that the two different functions of speech would be conveyed in physically different parts of the actual speech signal itself, e.g., the message in the segmental
phonemes and the relational stuff in the supersegmental features. However, Trubetzkoy did not make
this naive assumption, and it cannot be long sustained in the face of the facts. His idea was that the
same physical signal is freighted with different sign values on the three different levels simultaneously.
In reality only one single acoustic impression is given. But we divide it into its components. (p. 14)
And he further clarified what he meant by “dividing it into its components” at a later point.
the individual properties of the sound impressions are simultaneously projected onto three different planes,
namely, the plane of expression, the plane of appeal, and the plane of representation. (p. 27)
1. We will explore this tripartite system of phonological value further in the section entitled “A Brief Introduction to the
Semantics and Pragmatics of Phonology” beginning on page 346
138
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
So Trubetzkoy’s idea of how to conceptualize the functions of speech is that the exact same chunk of
physical sound is significant on three different planes more or less independently at the same time.
Thus every spoken sign must necessarily manifest the speaker. And it may also be intended to exercise some appeal to a hearer. And it may also embody some symbolic representation.1
Trubetzkoy’s tripartite categorization of speech functions aligns with the wild paradigm as in
Table 6. And in terms of correlating Trubetzkoy’s typology of speech functions with Peirce’s typolTABLE 6. The
Typology of Speech Functions in the Wild \ Civilized Paradigm
Wild Language
Natural Logic
Manifestation and Appeal
Civilized Language
Symbolic Logic
Representation
ogy of sign functions, clearly the level of representation corresponds to the symbolic sign function.
And clearly the levels of expression and appeal correspond to the level of wild language. One is
tempted to hypothesize further that the level of expression corresponds to the iconic type of sign and
the level of appeal corresponds to the indexical type of sign, but it is not clear to me at the moment
whether this hypothesis is valid or not. So for present purposes we will leave that relation unspecified, as I have done in the above table.
Now given this amplification of the paradigm we can get to the main point of this section. One
of the general implications of this paradigm is that from the beginning, by virtue of the inherent logic
of the phenomena themselves, manifestation is prior to appeal, and thus speech is prior to hearing. So
this is the first fact that I want to establish about the relationship between speech and hearing:
1. SPEECH IS PRIOR TO HEARING.
But when we come to the level of civilized language, as is commonly known, or should be commonly
known as I will show in a moment, this relationship is inverted. So the second fact that I want to
establish about the relation between speech and hearing is this:
2. ON THE LEVEL OF CIVILIZED LANGUAGE, HEARING IS PRIOR TO SPEECH.
And third, obviously:
3. THERE IS AN INVERSION OF PRIORITY BETWEEN SPEECH AND HEARING.
Leaving aside for the moment the fact that there is a reversal of priority when we go from wild language to civilized language, let us focus upon the level of civilized language. Obviously, the principle
that we speak in order to be heard holds for the realm of language proper, and thus it follows that in
the realm of language hearing is in principle prior to speech. That is, on the level of language speech
is constructed for and aimed at hearing. This priority is obvious in terms of common sense. A child is
1. There is another layer of complexity that I am not going to deal with here. Just as symbolic signs, e.g., words, have a
secondary value on the metaphorical level (by virtue of a secondary use of the relation of similarity) and on the metonymic level (by virtue of a secondary use of the relation of contiguity), so too do words, and other symbolic signs,
manifest the speaker and appeal to the hearer in a secondary sense on the symbolic level. For example, whether the
speaker chooses to talk about politics, or science, or sex and whether he chooses to say “the male organ” or “penis” or
“cock” is a manifestation of the persona of the speaker and appeals to, or imposes, a certain persona in the hearer.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
139
The Dialogical Context
in the position of a foreigner in relation to his parents’ language. If I want to learn to speak a foreign
language, obviously I must hear it before I can even begin to try to speak it. So a child obviously must
hear the adult language before he can even begin to try to speak it. Thus as a matter of principle and
common sense, on the level of language hearing is prior to speech.
And there is an abundance of empirical evidence in support of this claim. Jakobson argued
insistently and forcefully at least since Fundamentals of Language that all analysis of language must
be based on the realization that hearing is prior to speech. For example, he touches upon this crucial
point in many places in The Sound Shape of Language, but he discusses it directly on p. 60-63 where
he cites many different kinds of evidence from many authorities in many different languages. He
cited one particularly succinct quote from D. B. Fry who said in regard to child language acquisition:
“perception precedes production”
Jakobson spelled this point out more fully as follows:
In the early stages of a child’s active acquisition of language, significant distinctions in adult speech are recognized by the child not yet able to produce these distinctions himself. The particularly salient trait of this period is
the youngster’s objections to attempts by adults to imitate his way of speaking by omitting those distinctions
which he has not yet developed in his own performance. (p. 61)
I will discuss some specific examples of what Jakobson calls “The particularly salient trait” of this
asymmetric relation between hearing and speaking in the next section. But let me cite another quote
where he insists on
the primacy of the perceptual stage, the sensory goal, of the speech event over its antecedent, motor stage. (p. 63)
Now, given the priority of hearing over speech in language, let us step back to consider the
inversion of priority that takes place in the transition from wild language to civilized language. First,
it should be pointed out that this inversion of function is not limited to the relationship between
speech and hearing, but is quite general. Note, for example, that we have already seen testimony as to
the corresponding inversion of the child’s role in relation to language in passing from wild language
to civilized language. To put it in other words, as the child passes from the realm of wild language
into the realm of civilized language the position of the child changes in regard to what grammarians
call “the voice of the verb.” i.e., active vs. passive. Recall Jakobson’s quote to this effect, which I
cited above, and which I reproduce here for convenience.
There are two varieties of language for the child, one might almost say two styles - one he controls actively, the
other, the language of the adult, only passively... (p. 22).
In the discussion above, I was focusing on the fact that there are two types of language, but here I
want to focus on the fact that the child controls wild language actively, but he only controls adult language passively.
In regard to the generality of this inversion, it would be appropriate at this stage of our exploration of the linguistic situation to point out that this inversion is symbolic and it is another manifestation of the symbolic gap. This brings us to the fourth main point I want to make in this section.
4. THIS INVERSION IS A FUNCTION OF THE SYMBOLIC GAP.
As we saw above, the gap is manifest as repression on the level of wild language, but now we can see
that it is also manifest as inversion on the level of language proper. It might be helpful to think of the
gap as something like a magnetic field, like a zone of negativity, so that when something passes
140
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
through the gap its valence is inverted. That is, when something is transformed from the natural state
into the civilized state it is not only symbolically removed from the state of nature, but it is also symbolically marked as civilized in various negative ways as a function of the negativity of the symbolic
gap. And one of the ways of marking something as civilized is by inversion. Thus the passive voice is
more civilized than the active voice precisely because it is an inversion of the wild voice. Or, in other
words, the passive voice is not the natural voice. Or to attach the negative where it belongs, the passive voice is the not-natural voice.
In this last way of formulating the inversion we can see the negative operator that is at the root
of the logic of the inversion. The passive is the not-active, just as the false is the not-true, the bad is
the not-good, etc. So the word “passive” is a kind of lexicalization of the concept “not-active” and the
passive form of a sentence is the grammaticalization of the logic of the “not-active” on the sentential
level. And the object is promoted to the position of the subject, while the real subject is demoted to
the position of the object, or even eliminated entirely. Thus “I speak” becomes “It is spoken by me”
or even “It is spoken.” These are among the myriad ways the “Thou shalt not” of the gap is manifest
in the form of civilized language. Thus at bottom the gap is a function of negation. Or to put it the
other way around, marks of the symbolic gap are functions of the symbol of negation, which is the
first symbol, the seminal symbol, the prototypical symbol.
I will return to the negativity of the gap below, but it might be helpful to point out here that the
pivotal role of negation in the evolution of the symbolic realm was explained by Freud in his little
essay on negation (“Negation” SE XIX, 235-239), among other places. In that essay he began by
pointing out that there are many different kinds of phenomena in ordinary language in which, even in
ordinary discourse, negation is taken as a sign of affirmation, along the lines of the “me thinks the
lady doth protest too much” phenomenon. For example, when someone asserts that what he is about
to say is not an insult, along the following lines,
Now you’ll think I mean to say something insulting, but really I’ve no such intention. (p. 235)
such an assertion implies, by undoing the negation, that it will be an insult. Freud explains the reasoning of the speaker of this speech act thus:
this is a rejection, by projection, of an idea that has just come up.
While Freud is right, this is a superficial characterization of the reasoning of the speaker, and in order
to illuminate the point that is presently under discussion I think it will be useful to analyze the reasoning of the speaker in more detail.
In trying to sort out the logic of this speech act the first thing we must note that there are two
types of negation in Freud’s explanation - projection and rejection. Let me first explain how it is that
projection is a kind of negation. What motivates this projective distortion of the speaker’s thought is
that prior to this speech act the speaker becomes aware of the fact that what he is about to say is an
insult and he does not want to be responsible for the insult. So at the extreme, the remedy is to censure the speech act altogether and not say anything at all. This would be a total repression. But he also
wants to say it, so he finds a compromise remedy in which he can say it, and at the same time disown
that bad aspect of his speech act. So he projects that bad aspect of the speech act onto the other.
We can analyze the logic and the grammar of projection as a function of the displacement of
negation as follows. To develop this line of reasoning we have to reconstruct an approximation of the
internal dialogue that takes place in the mind of the speaker before he performs the overt speech act
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
141
The Dialogical Context
cited above. First, the speaker intends to say X. Then he realized that X is insulting. So he reasons, if
I say X, I will be insulting you. Then he formulated the following desire, which we might formulate
as follows, and this is what underlies his overt speech act.
I intend to say X, but [I do not want [to think that [I am insulting you]]]
For our purposes we must reconstruct the missing subject of the verb “think” in the underlying logical
form of the sentence expressing the desire to get the following.
[I do not want [I think [I am insulting you]]]
Now it is well known in linguistics that these verbs are transparent to the negative so that the negative
can be displaced onto any of the subordinate verbs without significantly changing the meaning of the
sentence. Thus the following are different ways of saying the same thing as the above.
[I want [I not think [I am insulting you]]] = I want to not think that I am insulting you
[I want [I think [I am not insulting you]]] = I want to think that I am not insulting you.
These are what might be called “legal” displacements of the negative because they do not violate the
connection between meaning and form. In other words, these are different ways of saying the same
thing. Now projection is also a displacement of the negative, but it is an illegal displacement of the
negative, because it changes the meaning of the sentence. And, of course, that is the whole point of
projection—to change the meaning. Specifically,
PROJECTION IS THE DISPLACEMENT OF THE NEGATIVE ONTO THE FIRST PERSON SUBJECT OF A LOWER SENTENCE.
In this case the projection is effected by the following transformation.
[I do not want [I think [I am insulting you]]] "
[I want [not-I think that [I am insulting you]]]
And then, since “not-I” = “you”, by substitution of equivalents, and by elision of the expression of
intent, “I want”, which is similar to the normal elision of performatives, we get the surface form
You think that I am insulting you.
So this explains how the projection of the offending thought is a type of negation, and then the
speaker distances the offending thought even further by denying it, and thus having been twice
negated, twice marked, it is permitted to be spoken in what the speaker considers to be civilized dialogue.
You think that I am insulting you, but it is not true.
According to Freud the principle that is at work here is this:
the content of a repressed image or idea can make its way into consciousness, on condition that it is negated.
(Italics in SE version. Verneinen in original.)
I want to suggest that this is the principle of the gap, and that this one act of negation governs the two
different manifestations of the gap—the repression of wild language and the transformation of civilized language. Wild language is repressed by the negation that derives civilized language and at the
same time wild language is marked by the negation in the process of being transformed into civilized
142
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
language. So wild language is cut off by symbolic negation, and civilized language is marked by the
same cut of symbolic negation. So there are not two acts or two forces at work here, but rather we are
looking at the same act and the same force from two different points of view. The symbolic cut has
sometimes been likened to a two-edged sword which simultaneously cuts between this and that and
thereby derives the two sides of the symbolic coin. So Freud’s statement as a general principle we can
rephrase it in the terminology of the present discussion as follows:
An element of wild language can make its way into civilized language,
on condition that it is negated.
Of course, I do not mean to say, nor did Freud, that an element of civilized language must be overtly
and literally negated in the sense of adding the word “no,” but rather that it must be negated in the
larger sense that includes all of the various forms of negation, such as those mentioned above - projection, inversion, elision, opposition, etc.1 And in saying that there is one cut, I mean to say that
there is one type of symbolic cut and that it cuts two ways at the same time. The concrete forms of
civilized languages are derived by the application of many many cuts, small cuts and large cuts, phonological cuts, grammatical cuts, semantic cuts, and pragmatic cuts. These myriad cuts are manifest
as the marks which comprise the form of language. This includes every element of language down to
and including the phoneme, which, as has been clear to linguists since the beginning of linguistics,
the phoneme has no positive substance, but is rather wholly negative and oppositive. A phoneme is
nothing but a position in a matrix of intersecting oppositions.
Thus every element of language is marked by the negativity of the symbolic gap. And thus the
inversion of active and passive and the inversion of the priority of speech and hearing as a function of
the gap is not at all unusual or unexpected. On the contrary, it is precisely what is predicted by the
above principle.
Before we move on, I would like to add that I think it is useful to think of the mark of the symbolic gap in the following terms, as explained by Freud:
To negate something in a judgement is, at bottom, to say: ‘This is something which I should prefer to repress.’ A
negative judgement is the intellectual substitute for repression; its ‘no’ is the hallmark of repression, a certificate
of origin - like, let us say, ‘Made in Germany’. (p. 236)
So by implication, a mark in the form of civilized language is like a certificate of symbolic legitimacy
that says, “This form is civilized.” Thus a mark is a sign of a symbol.
I would like to point out that it is possible to make sense of the inversion of speech and hearing without going into the depths of the human psyche and the logic of markedness. The inversion of
the priority of speech and hearing can be explained in a simple way as follows. Wild language is nat1. By the way, the most literal way of marking something as civilized is by an actual physical cut in the body, as in circumcision, tattooing, or other forms of ritualistic scarring. Such a cut is inflicted as the crux of a rite de passage, as
sign that one has passed from the wild state into the civilized state. And the scar is the mark of civilization. This is the
most literal form of the symbolic cut.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
143
The Dialogical Context
ural, whereas civilized language is unnatural, or, in other words, conventional. Therefore, the child’s
mastery of wild language comes naturally. The child can ascertain on the basis of forestland experience what feels good and what works. In the realm of wild language, the direct experience of satisfaction is the standard of correctness. But when the child confronts the symbolic level, since the
relationship between sign and referent is unnatural, being dictated by convention, correctness is in the
hand of the other. So for the child to function in harmony with the other, for the child to play the role
he is being cast in by the other, the child, who is totally dependent upon the other for his very life,
must take the passive position and subordinate his speech to the dictates of the other. He can only
ascertain what is the correct way to use sounds in interacting with the other by hearing, and only then
can he learn how to produce them in speaking. Thus on the level of language the child must hear and
understand as a precondition to speaking. So when the child wants to take part in the adult game, he
must take a type of position that is prescribed in the symbolic universe of discourse, and at the beginning he can only take a passive position, which means that he must begin by hearing, so that he can
learn what is considered to be correct in the alien world of the other, and only then will he be in a
position to begin to learn how to speak correctly so that he can play what is considered to be an active
role in this fundamentally passive frame of reference. So in this way, in the civilized realm the passive comes to be prior to the active, and hearing comes to be prior to speech.
Let me recapitulate. First, to clear the ground, contrary to the conventional conceptualization
as represented in Figure 12, speaking and hearing are not in a symmetrical relationship of mutual
interdependence. They are in an asymmetrical relation. From the beginning on the level of wild language speech is prior to hearing, but on the symbolic level the relationship is inverted such that hearing is prior to speech. This asymmetrical relation is manifest in language as a sequence of stages in
the diachronic dimension and as hierarchical structure in the synchronic dimension. In a sense then,
the relation between hearing and speech on the level of language replicates the relation between wild
language and language, i.e., the latter is subsequent to the former, the latter derives from the former,
and the latter is a subset of the former. We can add this new dimension of complexity to our representation of the linguistic situation as in Figure 14.
In a moment we will look at some examples of some phenomena which can only be made
sense of by sorting them out in terms of a conceptualization of the linguistic situation such as this.
But before we look at those examples, I would like to point out some of the general implications of
the linguistic situation that follow from this new dimension of complexity.
First, it is now clear that the way we represented the stage of child language development
where the child is struck dumb (Figure 8, Figure 9, and Figure 10) is misleading in regard to the
dimension of hearing. These representations are misleading in part because they left hearing out of
the picture, but they are also misleading in that they lead one to overlook the vital role hearing plays
in the process of the child’s being struck dumb. Or in other words, in the process of repression. To
begin with, it should be made clear that when the child is struck dumb, whether totally dumb or partially dumb, he is not correspondingly deaf. That is, to be quite explicit, we will cite numerous examples that show that the child can hear the very sounds with respect to which he is struck dumb. That
there is this asymmetry would have been clear from the beginning if we had been discussing these
phenomena in German because the name for this stage of child language acquisition in German is
“Hörstummheit”, which, as Jakobson noted, means “comprehension without speech.” (p. 23) So it
would be more accurate to represent this stage of “Hörstummheit” as in Figure 15. This should not be
144
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
FIGURE 14.
The Relationship between Hearing and Speech in Language
FIGURE 15.
The Stage of Hearing without Speech
taken to imply that the above representations are simply false, but that they are incomplete. They are
guilty of having left out some important aspects of the situation, but then all representations necessarily leave out many important aspects of the situation, for that is inherent in the nature of representation.
This clarification of the situation in which the child is struck dumb permits us to be more precise about the process by which the child is struck dumb. We have already described this process as a
matter of language taking over a certain area of the child’s natural phonetic capability. Now we can
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
145
The Dialogical Context
see that this “taking over” is more precisely a function of hearing. That is, one might suppose that
these sounds are not available for the expressive and appeal functions of wild language because they
are being used for representational functions in civilized language. But now we can see that one cannot maintain this view because at this stage of development those sounds are not being used at all,
neither in wild language nor in civilized language. So we must suppose that this area of wild language
is identified and claimed as a function of hearing and through the agency of hearing it is removed
from the sphere of wild language before it is put to use in speech. Hearing acts as an agent of civilized
language, as Columbus was an agent of the government of Spain. And, like Columbus, hearing
locates the uncivilized area, and claims it in the name of civilized language, and drives out the native
peoples or enslaves them, and thus lays the ground for the subsequent development of a new productive colony of civilization. In short,
THE REALM OF LANGUAGE IS FRAMED BY HEARING.
Thus the phonological dimension of language is primarily a function of hearing, and only secondarily
a function of speech. And of course it follows, mutatis mutandis, that the same is true of every facet
of language that is downstream from the phonological dimension, which, formally speaking at least,
is all of language.
I would like to point out one last implication that falls out from this clarification of the role of
hearing in language. From the beginning of the discipline of linguistics there has been an ambivalence in linguistic theory due to the fact that there are two possible ways to characterize the features
of sound that are distinctive in the phonology of language. The sound of language can be characterized, more or less equivalently in most cases, either in terms of articulatory phonetics or in terms of
acoustic phonetics. And in practice most linguists shift back and forth or mix the two systems
together as a matter of terminological convenience or typographical convenience or some other
extrinsic standard. Of course, such ambivalence is intolerable theoretically, but I think linguists have
ignored the issue because there has not been any compelling reason to prefer one system of representation to the other. Or, in other words, until now there has not been a theoretical frame of reference in
which it has been possible to frame the issue in such a way as to make it clear what the implications
of this choice of representations might be. The present theoretical frame of reference clearly implies
that the distinctive features of sound are framed first in acoustic terms and then subsequently transformed into articulatory terms. Thus the acoustic representation of language is prior to, dominates,
and governs the articulatory representation.
And again it must be made clear that the point is not that this is a newly discovered fact, as I
will show in a moment, but that this another important fact about the nature of language that follows
from and is explained by the present theory and that this property of language is integrated into the
system of language as seen in the present theory in such a way that it could not be otherwise. Therefore, the fact that the distinctive features of the phonology of language are framed in acoustic terms
first and in articulatory terms second is in turn proof of the validity and utility of the theory being put
forth here.
That this is a fact was argued in Fundamentals of Language by Jakobson and Halle reasoning
from the basic principles of communication and information. They argue that it follows from the
nature of communication that the speech event unfolds in a series of stages or levels. And they argue
that
the information conveyed by the sound-chain...determines the operational hierarchy of levels in their decreasing
pertinence: perceptual, aural, acoustical, and motor (p. 34)
146
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
In terms of this hierarchy of these “stages of the speech event”, they point out that
The specification of distinctive oppositions may be made with respect to any stage of the speech event, from
articulation to perception...(but)...The distinctive features have been portrayed only on the motor and acoustic
level, because these are the only two aspects for which we so far possess detailed information...But since articulation is to acoustic phenomenon as means to effect, the classification of motor data must be made with reference to the acoustic patterns. (p. 34-35, emphasis added)
On the basis of this argument Jakobson and Halle maintained that the traditional articulatory categorization of the sounds of language must be replaced in the theory of language with the conceptually
more fundamental acoustic categories (hence the title Fundamentals of Language). Thus they proposed that the labials and velars are to be distinguished from the dentals and palatals in terms of the
acoustic distinction between grave and acute. And the velars and palatals are to be distinguished from
the labials and dentals as compact to diffuse.
In his subsequent writings Jakobson consistently held this view, insisting on the priority of
hearing to speech in language, and over the years he added many new arguments. For example he
cited numerous arguments in his discussion of this issue in The Sound Shape of Language (1979,
especially p. 60-64), which began with the following assertion:
The perceptual value of the distinctive features control their physicomotor aspect and is directly linked with the
acoustic level (p. 60).
In other words, in the realm of language hearing is prior to speech.
A Survey of Facts which Evidence the Symbolic Gap
In this section I will survey some of the various different kinds of linguistic facts which motivate the conceptualization of the linguistic situation sketched above. To begin with, the first and most
general facts which speak to this matter, as I discussed in detail above, is the sequence of stages in
child language acquisition: First, free and fluent sound production; Second, a sudden inhibition of
more or less general scope; Third, the ability to hear words of adult language; Fourth, the ability to
pronounce the words of adult language.
These general stages are also manifest in a number of more fragmentary way in a wide variety
of phenomena. For example, we mentioned that stage fright and stuttering are manifestations of the
oscillation between the stage of inhibition and the stage of adult language. These phenomena show
that the inhibition is not a biological phenomenon, but a function of frame of mind, because it is possible to overcome the inhibition merely by changing one’s frame of mind. Another example, I would
argue, is that the difficulty of hearing and pronouncing sounds in a foreign language is a manifestation of the stage of repression and inhibition. But such general claims are not very forceful, and rather
than getting caught up in what would be a lengthy argument here, I would prefer to cite a variety of
specific facts which evidence the complex structure which I have posited.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
147
The Dialogical Context
The Basic Characteristics of Stuttering
Let us recall the little dialogue which I cited at the beginning of our discussion of wild language (page 111), which I repeat here for convenience.
MacKay (1970b:320) cites the dialogue of a mother with her child, who months earlier had been able to produce
[f] and [p] in his babbling and now asked her to “give me my pork” (meaning fork); when she handed him his
fork, saying in his style “Here is your pork,” she received the answer: “No, no! Pork! Pork!
I would like to cite my own observation of this phenomena in one of my own children. When one of
my sons was six months old we lived in an apartment that had a metal heating vent in the floor which
became hot in the winter (but not dangerously hot). As he crawled around on the floor he often
approached this heating vent, and we warned him loudly and often to stay away from this vent by
saying “Hot!”, which of course he understood in his own way, but not as we intended it. Then one
day as I watched him crawl over to this hot vent for the five thousandth time and reach out his hand to
touch it while looking at me to watch me jump, I pretended that I was reading and I did not prevent
him from touching it, so he did touch it, and he quickly drew his hand back in shock, and then you
could see the dawning of understanding come over his face and he said clearly and precisely “Hot!”
For many months after that he spent much of his time pointing to that heating vent and saying “Hot!”
When strangers came to visit he would insist on drawing their attention to that heat vent and instructing them that it is “Hot!” And he soon generalized it to refer to food that was too hot. Now it is crucial
to note that he pronounced the word correctly and with great precision, in perfect imitation the pronunciation we had used, with exactly the same exaggerated loudness and tone and exactly the same
careful and hypercorrect articulation, i.e. with stronger than normal friction on the /h/ and with a precisely articulated and strongly aspirated final /t/.
Then all of a sudden when he was about one year old, he was struck with this mysterious inhibition Jakobson is talking about and he could no longer pronounce this word correctly. Of particular
note, he could no longer pronounce the syllable final consonant in this word. So he was reduced to
saying /ha/ instead of /hat/. And while he certainly did not understand what had happened, he was
aware of the fact that he was no longer able to pronounce this word correctly and it became a source
of great frustration, especially because he could hear the difference in my pronunciation between
/hat/ and /ha/ and, when I said /ha/ in imitation of him when he said /ha/ but was trying to say /hat/, he
became furious and insisted that I pronounce the word correctly saying to me,
Say /ha/, not /ha/.
148
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
Having observed this paradoxical speech act in my own child, and having dismissed it as an
idiosyncratic peculiarity, I was all the more struck by the subsequent discovery in reading Jakobson’s
works that the very same paradoxical speech act has been observed in many other children. Jakobson
(1979) cites a number of examples from published studies of child language learning that are exactly
the same. For example he cites a study of a Czech child who could not pronounce /r/ as opposed to /l/,
so he would pronounce words like Ilenka and Irenka the same way using /l/ for both, and yet the child
readily commented on our incorrect interpretation and demanded the distinguishing of the two liquids in our
speech though he himself was content with the realization of one of them. (p. 159)
In another example Jakobson cites a child who said
“Not fis, fis!” instead of fish.
Here is another example he cites, and this one mentions the pre-inhibition stage. In
the dialogue of a mother with her child, who months earlier had been able to produce [f] and [p] in his babbling
and now asked her to “give me my pork” (meaning his fork); when she handed him his fork, saying in his style,
“Here’s your pork,” she received the answer: “No, no! Pork! Pork!” (p. 159)
Now here we see another characteristic of symbolic learning. First, as we saw above, it
involves an inhibition of capability, and second, as we now see, this inhibition is asymmetrical. For
example, in this case there was an inhibition of ability to produce syllable final consonants, but not
syllable initial consonants. And there was an inhibition of ability to pronounce final consonants, but
not an inability to hear them.
The Dynamics of the Symbolic Gap
Logically the gap is paradox. Pragmatically the gap is inhibition and frustration. Emotionally the gap
is fear and anxiety.
According to Jakobson from the beginning the child has the desire to communicate. But the
gap appears when the child adds the desire to communicate something. So the gap is a function of the
third element. It is not a function of manifestation, nor of appeal. It is a function of representation and
of the paradoxical logic of the symbolic type of sign function.
Wilderness vs. the City in the Bible
Not many people are aware of the fact that, according to the Bible, the first city was built by Cain.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
149
The Dialogical Context
Genesis 4:16 And Cain went out from the presence of the LORD, and dwelt in the land of Nod, on the east of
Eden. 17 And Cain knew his wife; and she conceived, and bare Enoch: and he builded a city, and called the name
of the city, after the name of his son, Enoch.
Most people know Cain as the first murderer, the character who first brought the error of Adam and
Eve to its natural consequences. The first murderer built the first city, and thus the city is established
as the symbol of the fruition of man’s error. It is thus opposed to the garden of Eden, the original wilderness which God provided for man in the beginning, the place of which God said, “It is good.” This
symbolic opposition between the wilderness and the city is one of the major threads of which the fabric of the Bible is woven.
And the relevance of this duality to the present discussion is that it correlates with and sheds
light upon the distinction between wild language and civilized language in many different ways. Not
least among them is the fact that the language of the Bible is itself very wild. By contrast, a scientific
treatise or a legal argument would be the epitome of the civilized style of language. What is more, it
should be made clear that the wildness of the language of the Bible is not just coincidental; is integral
to the purpose of the text, for the purpose of the Bible is to lead people from the land of civilized suffering back to the land of natural benevolence, and it is only natural to do so by means of wild language. Indeed, one cannot get there by means of civilized language. Civilized language goes around
and around inside the city.
So I will point out some of the places where this duality is manifest on the surface of the fabric
of the Bible.
Perhaps the fullest and most explicit statement of the association of the city with language and
the association of both language and the city with rebellion against God is in the story of the Tower of
Babble.
Gen 11:1 And the whole earth was of one language, and of one speech. 2 And it came to pass, as they journeyed
from the east, that they found a plain in the land of Shinar; and they dwelt there. 3 And they said one to another,
Go to, let us make brick, and burn them throughly. And they had brick for stone, and slime had they for mortar. 4
And they said, Go to, let us build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven; and let us make us a
name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth. 5 And the LORD came down to see the city
and the tower, which the children of men builded. 6 And the LORD said, Behold, the people is one, and they
have all one language; and this they begin to do: and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have
imagined to do. 7 Go to, let us go down, and there confound their language, that they may not understand one
another's speech. 8 So the LORD scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth: and they left
off to build the city. 9 Therefore is the name of it called Babel; because the LORD did there confound the language of all the earth: and from thence did the LORD scatter them abroad upon the face of all the earth.
So far we have only dealt with the city part of the opposition, so let us discuss the wilderness
part. There are several different Hebrew words that have been translated into English as “wilderness”,
and sometimes the same word has been translated as “wilderness” and sometimes in another way.
One of these cases which is of particular relevance to the present issue, since adult language is essentially form and not substance, is the word “tohu.” This word has been translated as “wilderness” in De
32:10 and Job 12:24, but as “without form” in the second verse of Genesis.
Gen 1:1 In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. 2 And the earth was without form, and void; and
darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.
150
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language, Wild Language and the Gap
The point is not that there is anything wrong with this translation, but rather that the variability of
translation demonstrates that “formlessness” and “wilderness” are the same. And thus we can add the
following opposition to our paradigm.
Wilderness
formless
City
formal
KJV Isa 51:3 For the LORD shall comfort Zion: he will comfort all her waste places; and he will
make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the LORD;
joy and gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving, and the voice of melody.
Num 1:1 And the LORD spake unto Moses in the wilderness
Psa 107: 4 They wandered in the wilderness in a solitary way; they found no city to dwell in.
Isa 51:1 Hearken to me, ye that follow after righteousness, ye that seek the LORD: look unto the rock
whence ye are hewn, and to the hole of the pit whence ye are digged.
2 Look unto Abraham your father, and unto Sarah that bare you: for I called him alone, and blessed
him,
and increased him.
3 For the LORD shall comfort Zion: he will comfort all her waste places; and he will make her wilderness
like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the LORD; joy and gladness shall be found therein,
thanksgiving, and the voice of melody.
Lev 16:10 But the goat, on which the lot fell to be the scapegoat, shall be presented alive before the LORD, to
make an atonement with him, and to let him go for a scapegoat into the wilderness.
21 And Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of the live goat, and confess over him all the iniquities of
the children of Israel, and all their transgressions in all their sins, putting them upon the head of the goat, and
shall send him away by the hand of a fit man into the wilderness:
22 And the goat shall bear upon him all their iniquities unto a land not inhabited: and he shall let go the goat in
the wilderness.
Num 14:32 But as for you, your carcases, they shall fall in this wilderness.
33 And your children shall wander in the wilderness forty years, and bear your whoredoms, until your carcases
be wasted in the wilderness.
Psa 95:8 Harden not your heart, as in the provocation, and as in the day of temptation in the wilderness:
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
151
The Dialogical Context
Isa 43:19 Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in
the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.
Mat 4:1 Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil.
2 And when he had fasted forty days and forty nights, he was afterward an hungred.
3 And when the tempter came to him, he said, If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made
bread.
4 But he answered and said, It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth
out of the mouth of God.
Heb 13:11 w-n ga.r eivsfe,retai zw,|wn to. ai-ma peri. a`marti,aj eivj ta. a[gia dia. tou/ avrciere,wj( tou,twn ta. sw,mata
katakai,etai e;xw th/j parembolh/j)
Heb 13:11 For the bodies of those beasts, whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high priest for sin, are
burned without the camp.
12 Wherefore Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, suffered without the gate.
13 Let us go forth therefore unto him without the camp, bearing his reproach.
14 For here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to come.
3925 parembole {par-em-bol-ay'}§ 1) an encampment 1a) the camp of Israel in the desert 1a1) used
for the city of Jerusalem, inasmuch as that was to the Israelites what formerly the encampment had
been in the desert 1a2) of the sacred congregation or assembly of Israel, as it had been gathered formerly in camps in the wilderness 1b) the barracks of the Roman soldiers, which at Jerusalem were in
the castle of Antonia 2) an army in a line of battle
and this
152
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
CHAPTER 4
The Pragmatics of Language
In this chapter we will explore the duplicity of the pragmatic dimension of language in the
framework of the theory of signs.
We will begin with a brief review of the point of view we are taking here, i.e. the theory of
signs as put forth by Peirce. Then we will explain how the pragmatic dimension of language is situated in the framework of the theory of signs. Then we will go on to explore the duplicity of the pragmatic dimension of language.
Our basic frame of reference is the tripartite logic of categories - firstness, secondness, and
thirdness - which was discovered and explored by C. S. Peirce. The theory of signs is derived from
the logic of categories, as we described in Chapter 2. As we pointed out in that section, Peirce identified the primitive operator in the theory of signs, as “the cut”. There are, of course, three types of
cuts. The basic idea of the cut is the mental operation by we take something as a sign. To take something as a sign is to “cut” that something in the following sense. When we take something as a sign,
we take it as a sign of something else, i.e., as a sign of something other than what it is. Thus we take
it in its role as a representative, or an agent, or a manifestation of that other thing, rather than regarding it simply as it is in its own being. In this way the mental operation, the cut, that constitutes the
something as a sign divides our conceptualization of the something into a dualistic frame of reference, in the first level of which the something remains what it is, and in the second level of which the
something is taken as a representative of something else, which it is not. So to the extent that we take
a something as a sign, we cut it off from its own intrinsic nature.
For example, if we take a black cat as a sign of bad luck, then when a black cat comes toward
us we might shout at it or throw something at it to make it go away. If we behave this way in relation
to the cat we would be treating the cat as the very embodiment of bad luck, instead of treating it
merely as a sign of bad luck, or, better yet, as a cat. When we shout and throw things at the cat we
think we are chasing bad luck away, but in reality we are chasing a cat away. In reality there is no
relation whatever between the cat and bad luck, and yet taking the cat as a sign of bad luck transforms
the cat into a manifestation of bad luck, and thus cuts between the cat as a sign and the cat as a cat, at
On the Duplicity of Language (Draft of 10/14/99)
153
The Pragmatics of Language
least in our conceptualization of the cat, and most importantly, for the cat, in our behavior toward the
cat. In this way taking something as a sign separates it from its own nature. It is a paradox. And that is
why Peirce described this cut that constitutes the sign in terms of the paradox of “the cut in the
uncut”. The cut did not really cut the cat, and yet the cat suffers from having been cut just the same.
There are several aspects of the dualistic situation engendered by the cut that one could profitably explore. First, there is the cut itself. As with everything else in the realm of signs, the cut is not
just one thing, but a system of things. There are three types of cuts corresponding to the three types of
signs, which combine and iterate to evolve into the system of cuts we know as language. So there are
many different genera and species of cuts, some are sheerly iconic, like the cat example, but some are
also physical. Some examples: A footprint is the shape of a foot that has been physically forced, or
cut, into the mud; a cut is physically made in a cow’s ear as a mark of ownership; the various marks
of identity which we physically cut into our own skin such as tatoos, and circumcision; some of us
used animal skins as tokens of value, such a wampum; in modern times we engrave our tokens of
value on paper, such as money, and we also cut checks.
Then there is the alienation engendered by the cut. In the universe of discourse where the
black cat is taken as a sign of bad luck, the cat is considered to be bad luck, not a cat. Thus in that universe of discourse the cat is alienated from its own being. And of course as the complexity of the system of cuts evolves, the alienation evolves accordingly. So the human realm is a system of all three
types of alienation combined and iterated in all sorts of complex ways.
But the aspect of the logic of the cut that we are focusing on here in this book is the duplicity
of the cut. We are focusing on the fact that the frame of reference engendered by the cut is not just
dualistic in the numerical sense, but also false. It is false in consequence of the intrinsic conflict and
confusion between the verbs “to be” and “to represent”. And since something is necessarily what it is,
to the extent that something is being taken as a representative of something else, it is not being taken
as what it is, and therefore it is being taken falsely. Thus the frame of reference that is engendered by
the cut is intrinsically duplicitous.
Now, since all signs are the function of this cut, all signs are intrinsically duplicitous. And
since language is a system of signs, language is intrinsically duplicitous. And from this it follows that
the pragmatic dimension of language must be duplicitous. Therefore, in order to understand the pragmatics of language, we must try to understand the duplicity of the pragmatics of language. So the purpose of this chapter is to explore and try to understand the duplicity of the pragmatics of language.
The purpose of this exploration of the pragmatic dimension of language three-fold. At one
level the purpose is to flesh out and further validate the theoretical point of view being developed
here by showing how we can better understand the pragmatic dimension of language by looking at it
from this point of view. At another level the purpose is to use the conventional conceptualization of
the pragmatic dimension of language as an example to illustrate the depth and the pervasiveness of
the duplicity of language by showing that the conventional conceptualization of the pragmatic dimension of language is confused and misleading as a function of the duplicity of language. At yet another
level, the purpose is to try to develop a coherent understanding of the pragmatics of language as a
basis for understanding language in general and the human situation in general. But in the end these
are not really three different purposes, but three different ways of looking at the same purpose.
154
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Framing the Pragmatic Dimension of Language
Framing the Pragmatic Dimension of Language
In this section we will describe the duplicity of the pragmatics of language in a general way,
and we will explain how the pragmatic dimension of language is situated in the framework of the theory of signs.
The pragmatic dimension of language is the first of the three categories - pragmatics, semantics, and syntax1 - into which the machinery of language is divided by linguists, philosophers, etc. We
will offer a precise characterization of this tripartite system of categories in a moment, but roughly
speaking, syntax is concerned with the form signs, semantics is concerned with the meaning and
value of signs, and pragmatics is concerned with the function and force of signs. These are the three
branches of the science of signs.
The fact that there is a pragmatic dimension of language was first pointed out by Charles Morris in Foundations of the Theory of Signs (1938, p. 6) in which he tried, unsuccessfully, to recast
Peirce’s theory of signs in the framework of behavioristic psychology.2 He defined pragmatics as the
study of “the relation of signs to interpreters”, semantics as the study of “the relation of signs to the
objects to which signs are applicable”, and syntax as the study of “the formal relations of signs to one
another”.
It should be noted that, although Morris defined these words as referring to branches of study,
they are commonly used ambiguously, like “biology” and “physics” for example, to refer either to the
study of a certain category of phenomena or to the phenomena itself. So just as “biology” is either
“the science of the processes of life” or “the processes of life”, so too, “pragmatics” is either “the science of the relations of signs to interpreters” or “the relations of signs to interpreters”.
Now as we consider these three categories of linguistic phenomena, we must emphasize that,
whereas the names that we give to the categories is to some extent arbitrary, the idea of dividing language into these three categories is not arbitrary, nor is it just a vestige of Western intellectual tradition. This tripartite categorization of linguistic phenomena follows from Peirce’s tripartite theory of
signs. Recall Perice’s definition of a sign cited in Chapter 2:
A SIGN REPRESENTS SOMETHING TO SOMEONE.
The line of reasoning by which the tripartite categorization of the phenomena of language follows
from this definition of the sign can be seen in the following statement by Rudolph Carnap, the
renowned philosophical logician.
we distinguish three fields of investigation of languages. If in an investigation explicit reference is made to the
speaker, or, to put it in more general terms, to the user of a language, then we assign it to the field of pragmatics.
1. The third part has traditionally been called “syntax” in the universe of discourse of philosophy and linguistics. But
there is a serious problem with this term. I will argue below that this part should be called “form”.
2. It should be clear in the present context why such an effort is bound to fail. Behavioristic psychology is based on the
conventional line of reductionist reasoning, which is to say, it is based on the premise that human behavior is entirely a
function of biological laws, which are in turn a function of chemical laws, which are in turn a function of physical laws.
I am arguing here that the laws of physics, chemistry, and biology are almost entirely irrelevant to human language,
because language is a function of truth. From this it follows that human thought and human behavior are to a large
extent a function of truth, and not the laws of physics, chemistry, and biology. Thus it is psychology that should be
recast in the framework of the theory of signs, rather than the theory of signs that should be recast in the framework of
behavioristic psychology.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
155
The Pragmatics of Language
(Whether in this case reference to designata is made or not makes no difference for this classification.) If we
abstract from the user of the language and analyze only the expressions and their designata, we are in the field of
semantics. And if, finally, we abstract from the designata also and analyze only the relations between the expressions, we are in (logical) syntax. (1942, p. 9, parentheses in original)
I note that there are a few insignificant terminological differences between Morris’s definition and
Carnap’s definition. Carnap uses “designata” where Morris uses “objects to which signs are applicable”. Carnap refers to the “speaker” or “user” where Morris uses “interpreter”. And Carnap uses
“expressions” where Morris uses “signs”. But putting these trivial terminological differences aside,
these two scholars are obviously trying to describe the same system of categories.
However there is a crucial difference in the way they conceptualize the relationships between
these three categories. Morris seems to think of the three categories as being subdivisions on the same
conceptual level, like circles in a Venn diagram, or squares on a chess board, whereas Carnap thinks
of them as three different levels. And further, Carnap’s description implies an ordering of the three
levels as a function of the relation of exclusion over the three elements of the sign relation.
One might suppose that the ordering of these categories in Carnap’s description is no more
than an expository device. It is logically possible, in terms of abstract logical possibilities, to derive a
different ordering from the same definition of the sign in the following way. One could start with a
category that includes all three elements, then leave out the sign to derive a second category, which
would include only the user and the designata. And then from the second category one could leave
out the designata to derive a third category, which would include only the user. But because of the
inherent relations of priority and dependence between subject, object, and indirect object, these categories are logically impossible. It is impossible to conceive of the idea of a designata without the idea
of a sign. Indeed, the very word “de-sign-ata” formally incorporates the word “sign”. And it is
equally impossible to conceive of the idea of a user without the idea of the thing the user uses. Therefore, while it might be possible in some abstract sense to imagine a different way of categorizing the
three elements of the sign, any other system of categories would be logically incoherent. So the order
which Carnap attributes to these categories is not just an expository convenience, but follows from
the logical nature of the phenomena being categorized.
Given Carnap’s characterization, then, we can represent this tripartite categorization of the
phenomena of language as in Figure 16, “The Dimensions of Pragmatics, Semantics, and Form,” on
page 157.
Let us be very precise about how these three dimensions are related. The first layer here, the level of
pragmatics, is the most basic and the most inclusive; it includes all three of the basic elements of the
sign relation. The second layer is derived from the first by means of the conceptual process which
Carnap described thus: “we abstract from the user of the language.” This abstraction process leaves
us with two of the three elements, signs and referents, at the level of semantics. And the third dimension is derived from the second thus: “we abstract from the designata also”. This leaves us with only
one of the three elements, signs, at the level of what Morris and Carnap, in keeping with tradition,
called syntax, and what I am calling, more generally, form.
I should like to discuss two terminological matters in regard to framing the pragmatic dimension before we go on to explore the pragmatics of language.
First, I would like to point out that it is only a small step from Carnap’s way of describing
these three dimensions of language to a description in terms of Peirce’s concept of the cut. In this
156
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Framing the Pragmatic Dimension of Language
FIGURE 16.
The Dimensions of Pragmatics, Semantics, and Form
FORM
signs
SEMANTICS
signs and referents
PRAGMATICS
signs, referents, and users
context, Peirce’s “cut” means exactly the same thing as Carnap’s “abstract from”. So using the term
“cut” we can say that the second frame of reference, that of semantics, is derived from the first by cutting out the user. And the third frame of reference, that of syntax, is derived from the second by cutting out the referent.1
Second, I would like to address the problem of what to call the third level of phenomena. In
the technical terminology of linguistics and logic, as we saw in the quotes from both Morris and Carnap above, the third level is called “syntax”. I would like to take the time at this point to explain why
I think it is more appropriate to refer to the third dimension of language as “form” rather than as “syntax”, in spite of the fact that this use of the term “syntax” is a conventional practice of long standing
in both the philosophical and linguistic universes of discourse. The problem is this. It is true that the
word “syntax” refers to formal relations among signs, but it only refers to half of the system of formal
relations.
The system of formal relations in language is organized along two intersecting vectors or axes
which are known in linguistics as “syntagmatic” and “paradigmatic”. Obviously, “syntax” is the
nominal form of the adjective “syntagmatic”, so the term “syntax” only refers to one of these two
axes of form. So in addition to the “syntax” of forms there is also the “paratax” of forms. We cannot
explore these two axes of form in detail here, but in order to clarify the issue we will cite a couple of
examples to illustrate these two axes of form, we will show how these two axes relate to the conventional frame of reference of the ordinary user of language, and we will explain how they relate to the
theory of signs.
Let us consider the sentence “Ducks fly”. The relation between “ducks” and “fly” in this sentence, which is the relation between subject and verb, or more generally, the relation of being next to
1. Note by the way that the word “cut” is used with exactly this meaning in the common idiom, “He didn’t make the cut”,
meaning that he was eliminated from the category.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
157
The Pragmatics of Language
something, is a syntagmatic relation. The relation between “duck” and “s” in the word “ducks”,
which is the relation between a noun and its plural suffix, is another syntagmatic relation. And the
relation between “d” and “u” in “ducks” is another syntagmatic relation. And in general, any relation
of proximity in the form of language is a syntagmatic relation.
Turning to paradigmatic relations, since “Geese fly” is also a well-formed sentence in
English, the relation between “ducks” and “geese”, the relation of being subject to the same verb, or
more generally, the relation of substitutability in the same syntagmatic frame of reference, is a paradigmatic relation. The relation between “G” and “g” is another paradigmatic relation. And the relation between the “ee” and the “oo” in “geese” and “goose”, the relation between singular and plural,
is another paradigmatic relation.1 And the relation between “m” and “g” as in “moose” and “goose”
is another paradigmatic relation. And the relation between “fly” and “eat” is another paradigmatic
relation. And in general, any relation of substitutability, or commutativity, in the form of language, or
any symbolic system, is a paradigmatic relation. So the form of language is a function of the interplay
of these two axes.
In addition to their role in governing the form of language, these two basic axes of form
underlay the conventional conceptualization of the form of space. In the idealized, sheerly symbolic
conceptualization of space known as Euclidian geometry the syntagmatic axis corresponds to the horizontal axis and the paradigmatic axis corresponds to the vertical axis. This can be seen in terms of
the way we conceptualize the space in which we write in English. In terms of the space of this piece
of paper we think of these two axes of the form of language as representedin Figure 17.
The Paradigmatic and Syntagmatic Axes of Form
Paradigmatic Relations
FIGURE 17.
birds
fly
geese
eat
owls
see
Syntagmatic Relations
And in the conventional conceptualization of the physical parameters of the real physical universe, the syntagmatic axis corresponds to time and the paradigmatic axis corresponds to space.
In the framework of Peirce’s theory of signs, these two axes of form are a function of the logic
of signs, which is a function of the logic of the basic categories. Specifically, in terms of the logic of
1. Note parenthetically that this example illustrates that these two dimensions of language are interdependent because the
same semantic value (here plural) can be represented in the same language sometimes in a syntagmatic form
(“duck+s”) and sometimes as a paradigmatic relation (“geese”). In this regard note also that the type of substitutability
in terms of which a paradigm is defined, i.e. symbolic substitutability, is a function of a syntagmatic frame of reference. In other words, a paradigm is the class of forms which can go in a certain syntagmatic context. So at the level of
symbolic form, context is a function of the syntagmatic axis. So at the level of symbolic form, the syntagmatic axis is
prior to the paradigmatic axis. Jakobson has pointed this out many times. This is, of course, an inversion of the natural
priority of these relations, as we will see in a moment.
158
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Framing the Pragmatic Dimension of Language
the basic categories, the paradigmatic axis is a function of relations of firstness (similarity) and the
syntagmatic axis is a function of relations of secondness (physical contact). Roman Jakobson, in his
extensive explorations of these two axes of the form of language, referred to them as “similarity” and
“contiguity” respectively. In terms of the typology of signs, the paradigmatic axis is a function of
iconic relations and the syntagmatic axis is a function of indexical relations.
So the structure and dynamics of form in language is a function of the interplay between the
syntagmatic and the paradigmatic types of relationships. And thus it is inappropriate and misleading
and ineffective to think of the level of formal relations in language as “syntax”. Therefore, in spite of
the fact that it is traditional in philosophy and linguistics to call this “syntax”, we must use a more
general name. It is for this reason that, as I said above, I think this category of linguistic phenomena
should be called “form”, a name which encompasses both the paradigmatic axis of form and the syntagmatic axis of form.
I must admit, however, that there is one sense in which this name is not altogether satisfactory: the word “form” does not conform to the formal pattern established by the other words in the
paradigm, “pragmatics” and “semantics”. These words are longer and sound more scientific than
“form”. From the point of view of paradigmatic harmony, the perfect name for this third category of
phenomena would be “morphetics”, which is from morfhv, the Greek word meaning “form”, with “tics” stuck on the end. This “-tics” does not add anything to the meaning of the word, but it makes the
form of word fit in the paradigm. Nevertheless, I am reluctant to use this unfamiliar and formally
unnatural monstrosity as the name of this category of phenomena just so that we can have formal paradigmatic harmony. And what is more important, in its usage in ordinary English the word “form”
has acquired a number of important implications and associations, which make it semantically, and
pragmatically more appropriate. We will encounter several instances of such associations below, but
I just mention by way of example in passing that one reason we want to call this level of linguistic
phenomena “form” is because the expression “sheer formalism” conveys exactly the implications we
want, i.e., pointless conformity to form just for the sake of form. So I will call this third level, “form”.
The Displacement of Interest from Pragmatics to Form
Now, given the frame of reference as represented in Figure 16, the first point I want to make
about the pragmatics of language is that there is an inconsistency in regard to the normal degree of
interest in and awareness of the pragmatic dimension of language. In spite of the fact that pragmatics
is the most important part of the machinery of language, it is the least well known part of language.
Or, rather, given the essential duplicity of language, we should not say that it is in spite of the fact
that pragmatics is the most important part of language that it is least well known, but because of the
fact that pragmatics is the most important part of language that it is the least well known. In other
words, the most fundamental pragmatic function of the duplicity of language is to lure our attention
away from the most important part of language, pragmatics, and to get us to focus our attention
instead on the least important part of language, form. In short, the duplicity of language gets us to
substitute a concern for the form of language for a concern for the pragmatics of language. So instead
of transacting in desires we transact in forms. And this displacement of our interest from function to
form is the fundamental pragmatic dynamic of language.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
159
The Pragmatics of Language
If it is not already obvious from the above framing of the pragmatics of language, we will
make abundantly clear below that the pragmatic dimension of language is the most important part of
language because that is where the fundamental forces which drive and govern language are to be
found. The pragmatic dimension of language is where our desires sets out to find satisfaction by symbolic means. In this sense, the pragmatic dimension is where language begins and where it ends, if it
ends. Language begins with desire and if it ends, it ends with satisfaction. And the semantic and formal machinery of language is merely the means by which we try to satisfy our desires symbolically.
So the pragmatic dimension is where whole vast duplicitous machine of language comes into contact
with naked reality, or as we might say, with naked truth.
And so, as a function of the duplicity of language, there is a systematic tendency to ignore the
pragmatic dimension of language. There is a reversal of valence in language: the pragmatic core of
language is charged with a kind of reverse gravitational force, a kind of centrifugal revulsion, which
drives our attention and interest away from the very place where desires and satisfactions are transacted. The duplicity of the pragmatics of language inverts our desire from a force of attraction to a
force of revulsion. And vice versa: this same duplicitous dynamic of displacement draws our interest
and attention toward the superficial form of language, the empty shell of language, where desire cannot possibly find satisfaction. This is, of course, an instance of what Freud called “displacement.”
One can see this dynamic of displacement at work in the following ways. At the level of common knowledge in our society, the mere fact that there is a pragmatic dimension of language is virtually unknown: Although most people have some awareness of the less important semantic and formal
dimensions of language, the pragmatic dimension is a vast black hole in the awareness of the ordinary
person. At the level of the typical highly educated person, such as a lawyer or a physicist, the pragmatic dimension of language is also virtually unknown, although such a person is likely to have fairly
sophisticated knowledge about the semantic and formal dimensions of language, because those
dimensions are included in the standard college curriculum, but pragmatics is not. Finally, at the level
of language specialists, such as linguists and philosophers, the pragmatic dimension of language has
only recently emerged as a field of study, but even at that level of sophistication the pragmatics of
language is still considered to be of marginal interest. The focus of establishment linguistics and philosophy is still firmly fixed upon the form of language.
Stephen Levinson made this point in his 1983 textbook on Pragmatics:
within the history of linguistics, pragmatics is a remedial discipline born, or reborn, of the starkly limited scope
of Chomskyan linguistics. (p. xii)
What he meant more specifically is that the recent interest in pragmatics has been re-born in the
framework of modern linguistics in reaction to the narrow focus on form, which is the fundamental
premise of Chomskyan theory, because the inadequacy of that theory has become more and more
obvious and compelling. And in harmony with the point of view I am trying to establish here, he
characterized the “attitudes of most of the current practitioners in the field” as one of “historical myopia.”
What I am suggesting here is that this systematic tendency to look away from the pragmatics
of language is integral to the pragmatic dynamic of language as a function of the duplicity of language. Everyone knows that duplicity works by distracting the attention of the prospective dupe away
from what is really going on by framing the situation in such a way as to get the dupe to focus his
attention on some part of the situation that is irrelevant. Thus the pragmatics of language, i.e., the way
160
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Framing the Pragmatic Dimension of Language
language works, is by getting us to focus our attention on the superficial form of language so that we
will not see what is really going on at the underlying level of the pragmatics of language. In language
we are induced to focus on the form of the signs of desire which we are exchanging, so that we will
not realize that signs of desire do not satisfy, being mere signs, and what is worse, so that we will not
realize that the exchange of signs of desire actually betrays the very desire they are designed to satisfy. This is the duplicity of the pragmatics of language in a nutshell. The purpose of this chapter will
be to explain and elaborate and exemplify this duplicitous dynamic more fully.
I would like to bring our attention to focus upon the pragmatics of language by considering
the kinds of questions that are relevant to each level of analysis beginning with the superficial level of
form. At the level of form, obviously the basic question to be asked of any symbolic sign is this.
What is its form?
And from the immediately proceeding discussion of the two axes of symbolic form, it is clear that this
question can be broken down into two more specific questions, which can be formulated thus:
What form is prior to what form?
What form is substitutable for what form?
Moving down to the level of semantics, in accord with Peirce’s definition of the sign, the
basic question to be asked of a symbolic sign is this.
What does it represent and/or how does it represent?
The conventional belief is that the most basic type of representation is that of ostensive reference in
the sense that the word “duck” is supposed to mean duck by reference to an actual duck, just as one
might use ones finger to point at a duck. This idea of semantics is based upon a mythological idea of
the origin or words, which includes, for example, the quaint notion that a child learns what a word
means through the following sort of dialogue: The child hears people say “duck”; The child says
“What is a duck?”; Someone says, “That is a duck”, pointing at a duck. But this conventional idea of
the semantics of language is typical of the conventional view of language in general: it is superficial
and credulous and tendentious. The error of this idea is glaringly obvious in the framework of
Peirce’s theory of signs: this kind of representation cannot be the most basic because it is like pointing, i.e., it is an indexical sign function, and the iconic sign function is conceptually prior to the
indexical sign function.
More generally speaking, by framing the semantic question in the context of Peirce’s theory
of signs, we are led to expect to find a complex system of species and genera of types of representation which has evolved by iteration from and is structured in accord with the tripartite logic of sign
functions - iconic, indexical, symbolic. To illustrate some of the subsystems of the semantic dimension of language, there are three modes of representation that follow from the three basic sign functions - metaphoric, metonymic, and literal. Symbolic signs can convey reference not only by direct
conventional association, but also by implication and there are three types of implication - abduction,
induction, and deduction. Etc. So the fact is that the semantic dimension of language is an extremely
complex system of representation, a system of systems, about which there are myriad questions to be
asked and answered, but at bottom they all are variants of the basic semantic question, which is how
do signs represent and what do they represent.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
161
The Pragmatics of Language
Now we come to the pragmatics of language, which is the most fundamental level. At the
pragmatic level of language the basic question, in keeping with the root meaning of the word “pragmatics” (from Greek prassein, “to do”), is this:
What does language actually do?
What effect does it have in reality? What force does it have? How does it have force? What work does
it do? What does it change? Who does it change? How does it change?
The pragmatic question is sometimes posed in terms of motive: What is the speaker’s motive
for saying that? What does he hope to gain? How does his saying that do what he wants it to do?
Or, the pragmatic question is sometimes posed in terms of function. What is the function of a
particular speech act? What is the function of a sequence of speech acts? What is the function of language in general? What is language used for?
As we consider these pragmatic questions, the answer that springs to mind, the word that
clamors to be spoken, is “communication”. This is so because “communication” is the word that fundamentally frames the conventional conceptualization of language in our modern American scientific
world-view. In our current universe of discourse, language is conceived of as a means of communication.
There are many kinds of evidence that this is the prevailing view. If you ask ordinary linguistically naive people what the function of language is, they invariably say “communication”, and wonder why you are asking, because they consider it to be as obvious as the sun in the sky. If you look it
up in the standard reference books, you find the same thing. If you go to school, you will find that at
all levels from kindergarten, to high school, to university, they teach that language is a means of communication. If you ask the most sophisticated and most knowledgeable and most experienced experts
on language, such as those who are professional users of language (lawyers, journalists, advertisers,
etc.), or those who are professional scholars of language (linguists, philosophers, psychologists, etc.),
or those who are professional conveyors of language (telephonic engineers, information mathematicians, computer scientists, etc.), you will find almost universal agreement that the essential function
of language is as a means of communication.
In other words, one of the most basic premises of the modern American universe of discourse,
i.e., the modern American world-view, is the belief that it is in the realm of communication that language does whatever it does. Or, in yet other words, the conventional premise is that language only
does things in the realm of communication, as distinct from the realm of reality. Or, to put it bluntly,
the conventional premise is that language does not really do anything. Thus from the conventional
point of view, if you shoot someone, something happens in reality, but if you say something to someone, nothing at all happens in reality. So, in the conventional point of view, there is no real pragmatics of language. Language has no real force. Language has no real function. Language does not really
do anything. It just refers to real things. So at bottom the conventional belief that language is essentially a means of communication is tantamount to the belief that language has no pragmatic dimension, that it is a sheerly symbolic phenomena, which is to say that it is a sheerly formal phenomenon.
So at bottom, the conventional view sees language as form.
I will show here that this view of language is held not only by ordinary linguistically naive
speaker of language, but that it is also the common view at the most sophisticated intellectual levels
of our society. I will do this by showing that this is the views of several of the most sophisticated
162
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
scholars of language and communication, including Claude Shannon, Gregory Bateson, and H. P.
Grice.
I will argue that this view is wrong in that it has inverted the natural priority of these three
dimensions of language. The conventional point of view focuses first upon form, and then considers
semantics as an after thought, and relegates pragmatics to the status of a distant, and ephemeral, third.
The correct order, as represented in Figure 16 is the reverse: Pragmatics is the most basic level of language, because it is at the level of pragmatics where we find the motives and forces that govern the
whole machine, whereas the semantics and form of language are just the components, the wheels and
levers, of which the machine is constructed. As I said above, it is at the level of pragmatics that we
find the beginning and the end of language; the semantics and form are just the means.
Further, I will try to show here that the conventional conceptualization of language is not just
wrong as a consequence of a lack of empirical evidence, or as a consequence of incidental oversight,
or as a consequence of the misleading influence of prescientific tradition, but that it is wrong as a systematic function of the duplicity of language. The essential dynamic of language, the essential purpose of the whole machine, is to make its representations credible, to persuade or lure or induce
people to take its representations at face value. So the fact that the conventional point of view is
wrong in taking language at face value is an integral element of the pragmatic dynamics of language.
Language has pragmatic force as a function of the conventional error in attributing value to its representations. Therefore, we will begin to explore the pragmatic dimension of language by considering
the conventionally predominant idea that language is essentially a means of communication.
Language as Means of Communication
The basic point I want to make about the conventional idea that language is essentially a
means of communication is that the word “communication” here functions at the pragmatic level as a
Trojan Horse. Note that in making this assertion I am not asserting that language is not a means of
communication. That would be false, because language most certainly is a means of communication.
The point is that language is a means of communication in precisely the same sense as the Trojan
Horse was a horse.
The point is that taking language as a means of communication, in the conventionally prescribed sense of communication, is an error which subverts our desire to understand. Therefore, in
order to fulfill our desire to understand, we must try to subvert the subversion of the word “communication”. We have to see beneath the superficial meaning of the word “communication”, so that we
can understand the underlying pragmatic function of language.
When we begin to dig under the surface of the word “communication” as it is conventionally
used in the current universe of discourse, we immediately run into another layer of subterfuge of
exactly the same kind, as follows. When we ask what communication is, the answer that springs
immediately to mind, the answer that the dictionaries give, and the answer upon which the vast
majority of ordinary people and experts agree is that communication is conveying information. To
communicate is to convey information. Although this answer seems to satisfy most people, even most
experts, some of who’s views we will discuss shortly, as a matter of fact, this idea is just as subversive as the idea of communication. Thus the word “information” as it is conventionally intended, is
another Trojan Horse. The idea that communication is conveying information not only does it not
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
163
The Pragmatics of Language
move us forward in our understanding of the pragmatics of language, but it opens up another dimension of obfuscatory distraction, taking us farther away from the pragmatic, and getting us more
deeply involved in the intricacies of the form of language. So as we dig down into the meaning of
“communication” we will also have to dig down into the meaning of “convey” and “information”.
By way of fleshing out our understanding of the conventional conceptualization of language,
let us consider the implications of some of the typical sentences which make up the conventional dialogue, beginning with the basic premise,
Language is a means of communication.
If “communication” means “conveying information”, then by substitution of equivalent predicates we
get
Language is a means of conveying information.
Communication is conveying information.
Holding these predicates constant, note that we can substitute the following subjects:
The telephone is a means of communication
The telephone is a means of conveying information
So too,
Television is a means of conveying information
A satellite is a means of conveying information
The cable network is a means of conveying information
The computer is a means of conveying information.
Now, by the principle of paradigmatic equivalence, those words which can be used as subjects of the
same predicate are considered to be the same in relation to that predication. This is nothing more than
saying, for example, that we think of everything that we call a bird to be a bird. For example, the fact
that the following are all well-formed sentences of English,
A duck is a bird
A sparrow is a bird
A pelican is a bird
implies that in the conventional world-view of English the subjects of these sentences are all considered to be the same in that they are birds.
By the same reasoning, we conclude from the above sentences that in the conventional worldview of English, language is considered to be the same kind of thing as the telephone, television,
computer, etc. in that they are all means of communication and means of conveying information. And
there are many other ways one can see that in the conventional world-view language is considered to
be the same kind of thing as the telephone and the computer. For example, the sentence
Good communication is vital to a successful business.
is used in modern English ambiguously as between the following senses:
164
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
The ability to use language effectively is vital to a successful business
Having a good telephone system is vital to a successful business
Similarly the contemporary usage of the word “networking” is ambiguous as between making a network of relationships with various people by means of talking or making a network of relationships
with various computers by means of wires. In this way, to anyone who is familiar with the contemporary preoccupation with the “communication revolution”, the shift from “a manufacturing economy
to an information economy”, the “information explosion”, “information theory”, “artificial intelligence”, “virtual reality”, etc., it is clear that in the contemporary universe of discourse, language is
considered to be a component of the machinery of the “information highway”.
Now, in order to really understand what all this means, let us try to bring this highly sophisticated, scientifical conceptualization of language down to the level of the sort of crude, earthy language that we all have a gut feeling for by translating it into ordinary everyday English. I suggest that
the idea that
Language is a means of conveying information
is equivalent word for word to
A truck is a means of conveying potatoes.1
So language is conventionally conceptualized as a truck-like machine, or a complex of truck-like
machines, the function of which is to physically move things from one place to another. And the
things which language is supposed to move is conceptualized as discrete little potato-like objects,
called “bits” in the technical terminology of information theory.
It is impossible to succinctly describe the depth and the richness of the absurdity of this conceptualization of language, of communication, and of information, for which reason we are going to
discuss it at some length. But we can convey a rough idea of its absurdity as follows. It is true that the
sentence
A truck is a means of conveying potatoes
is equivalent to the sentence
1. Instructively, the word “truck” itself is ambiguous along the lines of the same semantic duplicity we are looking at in
regard to the function of language, viz, superficially a means of conveyance, but also a system of exchange. According
to the OED, the modern word “truck” is the confluence of two distinct historical lines of development. The older sense
of the word “truck” was borrowed into English from French troquer in the 13th century. It was originally used as a
verb meaning “to give in exchange for something else; to exchange (one thing) for another; also to exchange (a thing)
with a person”. The latter sense refers to the slave trade as in “to truck in slaves”. This word came to be use more generally to mean any sort of “traffic, intercourse, communication”. The other, currently more common, sense of the word
“truck”, first came into English as a borrowing from Latin and/or Greek trochus, meaning “wheel”, used at first as a
nautical term referring to the wheel of a cannon on a ship. Then it came to be used more generally to refer to wheels, in
competition with the native word “wheel”, and eventually came to be used, in American English, to refer to heavy duty
vehicles of conveyance in general. Of course, in modern English “my wheels” is entirely ambiguous as between “my
car” and “the wheels of my car” in just this same way. So in modern English the word “truck” is ambiguous between
“to buy and sell in the market” and “to transport to the market”. The latter is the superficial sense of communication we
are focusing upon here. The former sense, “to exchange (one thing) for another”, is the deeper sense of communication
we want to uncover. And the ultimate sense of communication is “to exchange (a thing) with a person”, i.e., to substitute. We will get to these senses below.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
165
The Pragmatics of Language
Language is a means of conveying information
in the sense that in both cases something really does physically move from one place to another, i.e.
potatoes in the former case and sound (to take the most elementary situation, which is face to face
vocal communication) in the latter. But to focus on the fact that something physically moves from
one place to another entirely misses the ultimate point in the case of language, as it does in the case of
a truck. In neither case is the purpose of the movement to be found in the sheer fact of movement.
People do not talk simply to get sound from one place to another, nor do they truck potatoes simply to
get them from one place to another. The ultimate point of the movement in both cases is made more
evident by the semantic and structural similarity of both of the above sentences with the following
sentence.1
A gun is a means of conveying lead.
While it is true that a gun, like a truck, and like language, does convey something from one place to
another, the purpose of a gun is not in the transportation of lead, but in the arrival of lead, and especially in the effect that the lead has upon the recipient when it gets there. So too, the purpose of a
truck is not in the transportation of potatoes from Idaho to San Francisco, but in the arrival at the market place, and especially in the selling of the potatoes. In other words, the potatoes are trucked in
order to be trucked. So too, while it is true that language does involve the conveyance of sound from
one place to another, the purpose of language is not in the transportation of sound, but in the arrival of
sound in the marketplace of ideas, and especially in the selling that takes place there. Thus in sum, the
function of language is not to convey something, but to sell something.
Lining up these three sentences so that we can see the underlying similarity between the pragmatics of language and a truck and a gun uncovers the underlying dimension of force, and aggression,
and even violence, in the communicative function of language.2 Of course, language is not commonly considered to be an instrument of force, let alone an instrument of violence. On the contrary,
we spend a good deal of effort trying to bury the violence of language under the mass of information.
But that is the point of this discussion. The fact that we are not commonly aware of this dimension of
language is not a coincidence. It is a function of the duplicitous deceptiveness of language, which is
exactly the dynamic in language which we are trying to get at here. That is, the suppression of the
awareness of the dimension of force in language is the means whereby language comes to have force,
for as we have been emphasizing from the beginning, the essential thrust of language is the suppression of and violence against truth. And in the present case, the words “communication” and “information” are the means.
So if we want to look at the function of language in terms of the movement of something, the
essential kind of movement is not that of sound or information or anything else from the speakers
1. By the way, the kind of reasoning we are looking at here, which is also the kind of reasoning we are doing here, is one
of the many important aspects of logic which was first discovered by C.S. Peirce. It is commonly known as thinking by
analogy. Peirce called it “abduction”, and he pointed out that it is iconic reasoning of the type of firstness, because its
only operator is the relation of similarity, or identity. He pointed out that it is also conceptually prior to, dominates, and
is more forceful than the more commonly known “induction”, which is indexical reasoning of the type of secondness,
and “deduction”, which is symbolic reasoning of the type of thirdness. So the conventional idea of language as a means
of communication is an erroneous abduction.
2. See Lecercle’s The Violence of Language and Lacan’s “Aggressivity in Psychoanalysis” in Écrits.
166
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
mouth to the addressee’s ear, but the movement of something in the minds of the speaker and/or the
addressee. This is the crux of Lacan’s theory of language; he stated explicitly that
the function of language is not to inform but to evoke...What I seek in speech is the response of the other. (Écrits,
p. 86)
For example,
if I call the person to whom I am speaking by whatever name I choose to give him, I intimate to him the subjective function that he will take on in order to reply to me, even if it is to repudiate this function. (p. 86)
Because,
the first object of desire is to be recognized by the other. (p. 58)
Note particularly that the point is that the work that a speaker intends his talk to do is as much in the
mind of the speaker himself as it is in the mind of the addressee, or rather, since ego is the internalized image of the other, “I” is the other.
And the essential kind of power in language is not the power that transports sound or information or anything else from the speaker to the addressee, but the power that maintains or changes the
structure of the mind of the addressee, whether he is someone else or not. The sound or information
that is conveyed from the speaker to the addressee is merely the instrument by which the speaker tries
to effect the mind of the addressee. So in sum, the essential work of language is to change the mind of
the addressee by inducing the addressee to ex-change new representations for older one, which at bottom means to exchange representations of truth for truth itself.
We will explore these underlying layers of the function of language under two heads below.
“Language as Instrument of Force” on page 192 and“Language as Medium of Substitution” on
page 194. But first, we will return to explore the conventionally predominant idea of language as a
means of communication.
In considering the idea of language as a means of communication, which is the conventionally
predominant idea in our culture, it should be noted that this idea is not by any means a cultural universal. Other cultures have a radically different idea of the function of language. Further, this idea is
not even universal in our own culture, being limited to the more sophisticated and elevated levels of
our own culture. This is so because this idea of language is the product of the conventionally predominant scientific world-view, which is to say, the scientific world-view that has evolved on the basis of
the premise that the science of physics is the preeminent science.
Given the dominance of the world-view of the science of physics in our universe of discourse,
when we come to consider language and its function in the communication situation, it is only to be
expected that we would be inclined to conceptualize the communicative situation in physical terms
and to focus our attention upon the central physical features of the communicative situation. And it is
obvious that the central physical element of the communicative situation is the physical signal which
is conveyed from the speaker to the addressee. This is why the conceptualization of language, communication, and information in our universe of discourse tends to center upon the physical signal, and
to be broadened to include other aspects of the communicative situation only as secondary factors,
and only as needed to account for properties of the physical signal, which in this point of view is considered to be the communication. That is, if we talk about “the meaning of this communication”, for
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
167
The Pragmatics of Language
example, then we are presupposing that meaning is one thing and communication is another. It is
analogous to talking about “the potatoes on this truck”. So in this frame of reference, the physical signal is the communication. Thus from the point of view which is conventionally predominant in our
culture, which is the point of view of the science of physics, the essence of language is the physical
substance in which the signs of language are embodied.
Let us explore this point more fully, for this is the crux of the issue that we are trying to
address in this book as seen at the level of social institutions, because the fact of the matter is that if
one looks without prejudice at the way language actually works, it is perfectly clear that the physical
signal is not the essence of language. In language proper, which is to say, in language as a system of
symbolic signs, to the exclusion of the underlying levels of iconic and indexical signs functions, the
physical characteristics of the signal that conveys a linguistic communication is a trivial aspect of the
communicative function. As we have seen, in the symbolic type of sign there is a gap between the
medium and the message. Or, to put in other words, between the messenger and the message. Or, to
put it in more literal terms, the physical embodiment of a symbol is irrelevant to its function as a symbol. This goes to the very heart of the logic of the symbolic type of sign, for the very essence of the
symbolic sign as defined in sign theory is that there is no natural relation between the value of a symbolic sign and its mode of physical embodiment. To put it another way, the physical embodiment of a
symbolic sign is an entirely separate phenomenal dimension from that of its functional value as a
symbolic sign. This is the point of Saussure’s seminal insight at the beginning of the science of linguistics, which is in his terms that the relation between the signata and the signatum in the linguistic
sign is arbitrary. And as he pointed out, to be arbitrary is to be unnatural. This is the same point that
was made independently more recently by Grice (1957), who distinguished between natural and nonnatural meaning, and argued that the kind of meaning that is characteristic of human language is nonnatural meaning. (We will discuss Grice’s argument more fully below.)
To see that there is no natural relation between a symbol and its physical embodiment, consider the Trojan Horse as a prototype of the symbol. It is obvious that the Trojan Horse was not made
of wood because of any natural relation between wood and horses, or between wood and the idea of
representation, or between wood and the conveying of soldiers. The fact that the Trojan Horse was
made of wood was incidental to either its superficial function as an offering to the goddess Athena
(compare “the calves of your lips” in Hosea) or to its underlying function as a duplicitous stratagem.
It was made of wood because of the technological capabilities of the Greeks and the limited choice of
materials which happened to be available. And it was shaped like a horse because of the beliefs of the
Trojans. By contrast, for example, if Odysseus had wanted to make an image of a fish that floated for
similar strategic purposes, there would have been some natural relation between the thing he made
and the stuff he made it out of, because wood floats. But even in this case, neither the shape nor the
function of such a symbolic fish would be a function of the physical material it was made of. Thus the
physical embodiment of the symbol, both as to its shape and the material it is made of, is a trivial
aspect of its symbolic function.
The same point follows from the fact that the same word can be represented in a wide variety
of physical modes. For example, the word “dog” can be represented and conveyed in the medium of
sound, in writing, by flashing lights, by signal flags, by various systems of hand signals, etc. Also the
word could be transformed into all sorts of special codes, such as Morris code, Pig Latin, etc., which
would radically change its physical shape without materially changing its symbolic function. These
various modes of physical transformation and transmission do change the value of a communication
at the level of iconic and indexical sign functions, but not its symbolic value. Such transformations of
168
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
the physical shape of a symbol cannot possibly have any effect upon its symbolic value for symbolic
value resides in the realm of the ideal, which is to say, in the realm of the imaginary, the epiphenomenal, the duplicitous. Therefore, the physical properties of the signal which conveys a linguistic sign
are essentially irrelevant to the communicative function of language qua a system of symbolic signs.
Nevertheless, we tend to focus upon the physical signal which conveys the communication
between speaker and listener. Of course, at the most basic conceptual level of analysis this perverse
tendency to shift our focus of attention toward the superficial and away from the essence of the communication, this displacement, to use Freud’s term, is a function of the systemic duplicity of language. Duplicity works by distracting our attention, deflecting our attention away from the
underlying level of what is really going on in communication and luring us to concentrate exclusively
on the most superficial and most trivial aspect of communication, which is, as we have pointed out,
the physical signal.
Let us consider this perverse tendency to displacement of attention at the level of social institutions. First, as we have mentioned, this tendency is institutionalized in the dominance of the physical sciences over the social sciences. It is manifest in the dominance of the sciences over the nonsciences. And within the scientific universe of discourse it is manifest in the dominance of what are
considered to be hard facts over soft facts in both the physical and the social sciences.
Second, this tendency is also manifest in the business world in the priority that is given to the
physical parameters of doing business. The business dialogue tends to focus on the physical dimension, such as product design, manufacture, shipping, etc., to the almost total exclusion of social, cultural, and linguistic aspects, i.e., to the exclusion of the realm of signs.1 And, of course, when
business does address the inevitable problems of communication, the tendency to focus upon the
superficial physical parameters persists. As a result, generally speaking, business enterprises invest
almost all of their assets in trying to conceptualize and to solve all of their problems in physical
terms, even when they are addressing communication problems.
Third, the institutionalization of this interest in focusing exclusively upon the physical parameters of the universe which science and business have in common, the child of their mutual institutional bias, is the discipline of engineering. The discipline of engineering brings the physical
conceptualization of the universe which has evolved in the scientific frame of reference to bear upon
practical problems of everyday life which the business world endeavors to solve for profit. And,
when the problem being addressed is actually a physical problem, as for example the problem of
physically conveying potatoes from Idaho to San Francisco, the engineering approach is capable of
working wonders in terms of highways and vehicles of transportation. In other words, if it is a question of good roads and bad roads in the physical sense, the engineering approach works.
However, when the problem being addressed is not actually a physical problem, as for example the in the deeper levels of communicative interaction, in the realm of intersubjective interaction in
situations of conflict, where sometimes the good road is the bad road and the bad road is the good
road, as depicted in Figure 36, “The Strategic Paradox,” on page 308, the engineering approach is
worse than useless. It is worse than useless because it cannot solve the problem, and it is almost cer-
1. See Peters and Waterman (1982) and Pfeffer (1994), who argue that there is this systematic bias in the business world
and that it is an costly mistake.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
169
The Pragmatics of Language
tain to make the problem worse, and yet it gives one the misleading feeling that something useful is
being done.
So the tendency to displace attention from the pragmatics of communication to the superficial
physical form of communication is preeminently institutionalized in our society in the discipline of
engineering. The engineering conceptualization of communication has come to be the norm in our
society. That is it has come to be the conventional conceptualization of communication. As such, it is,
like all conventional conceptualizations, not taken as just another theoretical point of view, but rather
it is presupposed as the self-evidently correct way of looking at communication. The engineering
point of view is commonly considered to be the way things are. Therefore it is taken for granted as
the correct way of looking at communication, by the ordinary person, by dictionaries and encyclopedias, etc. And what is of the greatest relevance here, the engineering point of view is also tacitly
assumed to be the correct way of looking at communication at the most sophisticated intellectual levels in our society.
I want to look at the work of three of the most prominent intellectual figures in this area of
scholarship as a way of exploring the engineering conceptualization of communication and at the
same time as a way of showing how this conceptualization has dominated and distorted the way we
think about language in our society. I will look first at the very general theory perspective developed
by the biologist-anthropologist-psychologist Gregory Bateson, second at Information Theory in the
technical sense as developed by Claude Shannon, and third at two fairly specific principles of the
pragmatics of language which the philosopher H. P. Grice has discovered.
I hasten to add that I have not chosen to review the work of these three scholars as examples
because I intend to diminish the value of their contribution to our understanding of language and
communication. On the contrary, they are qualified to serve as exemplars of the point I am trying to
make precisely because of the value of their insights into the workings of language and communication, under the principle that, if the thinking of most insightful students of communication has been
detrimentally influenced by the dominance of the engineering point of view, how much more has the
thinking of ordinary linguistically naive persons been detrimentally influenced by the engineering
point of view.
Gregory Bateson’s Steps to an Ecology of Mind
We will begin with Gregory Bateson because the scope of his work is very broad, and the
principles he tried to grasp were very deep, which will allow us to attain the broadest and deepest perspective in regard to the issue at hand. Bateson’s thinking was most generally represented in the collection of essays which he had written over a period of some thirty years, which he selected and put
together, and which he characterized in its title as Steps to an Ecology of Mind. In the introduction he
said that he realized retrospectively that these essays
combine to propose a new way of thinking about ideas and about those aggregates of ideas which I call ‘minds’.
This way of thinking I call the ‘ecology of mind’, or the ecology of ideas. It is a science which does not yet exist
as an organized body of theory or knowledge. (p 21, italics in original)
170
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
So the purpose of Bateson’s life-long intellectual endeavor was to develop a “new way of thinking”
about a category of phenomena which he variously called, “ideas”, “minds”, and “mind”.
Of course, a new conceptualization of the category of phenomena about which he wanted to
develop a new way of thinking was integral to the new way of thinking. Or, at least, it was new in
relation to the conventional categorization of things that was built into language, the traditional categorization which dominated our old way of thinking. For one thing, his new way of thinking led him
to include an extraordinarily wide range of things in the category of minds, or mind, or whatever it
was that he was trying to get at. For another, it led him to cut up the whole phenomenological pie in
an unconventional way, a way which cut across, and thus called into doubt, the traditional academic
system of bureaucratizing mind into the departments of biology, anthropology, psychology, psychiatry, philosophy, linguistics, etc. Bateson insisted on positing this iconoclastic category of things as
the sine qua non of his new way of thinking thus:
here at the beginning let me state my belief that such matters as the bilateral symmetry of an animal, the patterned arrangement of leaves in a plant, the escalation of an armaments race, the process of courtship, the nature
of play, the grammar of a sentence, the mystery of biological evolution, and the contemporary crises in man’s
relationship to his environment, can only be understood in terms of such an ecology of ideas as I propose.1 (p.
21)
And a little later in the introduction he makes this point in a different way, by mentioning some of the
areas in which he had done research on aspects of this new way of thinking.
I had found that in my work with primitive peoples, schizophrenia, biological symmetry, and in my discontent
with the conventional theories of evolution and learning, I had identified a widely scattered set of bench marks or
points of reference from which a new scientific territory could be defined. (p. 22)
He had an intuitive sense of the kind of things he wanted to include. He recognized in them a
certain distinct quality, like a flavor or smell, the sort of quality you can recognize with absolute certainty when you encounter it, but which is difficult to define in objective terms. This intuitive sense
guided him in choosing what phenomena to include and what to exclude. So in his various essays,
which wandered all over the intellectual map, he said in effect, “This is an example of what I am talking about”. One of his most durable contributions to the development of his new way of thinking was
gathering together widely disparate examples of the new category he wanted to think about and
explaining what it is about them that qualifies them to belong in this new category. In this way he
staked out the parameters of his new scientific territory indexically, but he never did manage to do so
symbolically. That is, he never managed to give this category a wholly satisfactory name. He sometimes called it “mind” as above, but that was just a term of convenience. He sometimes talked about it
in terms of “pattern” or “order”, but that too was just an expedient term, which he himself pointed out
“only begs the question” (p. 22). His last book, Mind and Nature, was largely devoted to trying to
1. Let me parenthetically point out that the first sign of the error we want to focus on is evident here in this list. In the
framework we are developing here, in context of Peirce’s theory of signs, with which Bateson does not seem to have
appreciated (although he does talk about Peirce’s discovery of abduction in some of his later publications), we are led
to observe that there is a categorial difference between the escalation of an armaments race, the human process of
courtship, the grammar of a sentence, and man’s environmental crisis and the other things in this list because these
things are to some extent a function of the symbolic type of signs, whereas the other things are purely natural sign phenomena. Of course, it is legitimate to consider all of these things together in regard to the lower order iconic and indexical sign functions, but one cannot make sense of those lower order functions unless one sorts them out from the higher
order symbolic functions. The error then is the failure to distinguish symbolic sign phenomena from iconic and indexical sign phenomena.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
171
The Pragmatics of Language
characterize the new category of things, but in my view, although it was suggestive and full of interesting observations and examples, it did not manage to satisfactorily characterize or name the new
scientific territory.
However, in my view, he did give a clear and succinct description of the revolution he was
trying to foment, and a perfectly appropriate name for the new category of phenomena, more or less
incidentally in an anecdotal description of his idea which he mentions at the end of the introduction
we have been considering. He described there how he used to describe his new way of thinking in his
lectures to classes of psychiatric residents in terms of the classical “form and substance” opposition.
The conservative laws for energy and matter concern substance rather than form. But mental processes, ideas,
communication, organization, differentiation, pattern and so on, are matters of form rather than substance. (p. 31)
He pointed out that since the world-view of the physical sciences (the “substance” sciences) came to
dominate the universe of discourse in Western cultures, the “behavioral sciences” (his term) have
inappropriately tried to explain matters of form in terms of the metaphoric use of concepts borrowed
from the physical sciences such as ‘energy’. (A prime example of this is Freud’s theory of psychodynamics, which is not wrong in using concepts taken from physics, just metaphorical.) Speaking in
these terms he characterized the error of the old way of thinking as focusing on
the wrong half of the ancient dichotomy between form and substance. (p. 31, italics in original)
What he is saying here is that the traditional scientific world-view is based on the premise that form is
empty, and thus excludes it from the category of things that are significant, which is ironic, for in
actual fact the opposite is the case: it is form that is significant and substance which is not significant.
Significance is precisely the function of the realm of form, or as we are calling it here, the realm of
signs. Bateson’s revolutionary idea is that this premise is wrong, and that there should be a new
branch of science which tries to apply the scientific method to form. And so the name of the scientific
territory he wants to open up, the name of the object of the new way of thinking that he wants to
develop, is “form”.
Unfortunately, he only mentioned this way of looking at his new way of thinking in passing,
in this one place, and he did not elaborate it further. Instead he went on in the next paragraph, and in
the rest of his research, to try to frame his new way of thinking in more scientific terms, specifically
in terms of “cybernetics and systems theory” and “information”, which is, of course, the engineering
way of talking about form. Thus the word “form” was displaced in his conceptualization of his new
way of thinking by the word “information”.1 And the word “information”, in the sense in which Bateson used it, which was the technical engineering sense as developed by Shannon in his research at
Bell labs, is a creature of the traditional scientific world-view, which is to say, that it defines information as a function of the properties of the substance of the message. So in this way, Bateson’s effort to
conceptualize a new science of form was surreptitiously subverted by the concept of information
which was based on a notion of form as defined by substance in the framework of the old science of
substance. In short, his endeavor to develop a new science was sabotaged by his failure to be consistent. He should have tried to develop a formal concept of form, instead of accepting the convention-
1. Note that there is a formal relation between “form” and “information”. Note also that this relation is analogous to the
formal relation between “true” and “truistical”, etc. as discussed below, and that therefore the semantic relation
between “form” and “information” is analogous too. Thus “information” is “not form”, which is the formal crux of
Bateson’s unfortunate mental error.
172
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
ally predominant substantial concept of form. But in any case, as I understand his new way of
thinking, the category of phenomena to which he wanted to apply his new way of thinking is the category of form. And the new science he was trying to develop is the science of form.
Now we come to the issue that we are particularly interested in here, which is the conceptual
premises upon which Bateson tried to construct his new way of thinking about mind, or form. In the
introduction to Steps to an Ecology of Mind he specifically identifies three categories of what he calls
“fundamentals”. The first is mathematics, the epistemological status of which he characterized in a
very strange, and therefore significant way:
Among the truistical propositions I included the ‘Eternal Verities’ of mathematics where truth is tautologically
limited to the domains within which man-made sets of axioms and definitions obtain:’ If numbers are appropriately defined and if the operation of addition is appropriately defined: then 5 + 7 = 12’. (p. 24, italics in original)
It is not easy to figure out exactly what he means by this, or why he bothered to say it. Why not just
assume mathematics like everyone else does and go on? What work is this statement intended to
accomplish?
I think it is instructive to dissect this statement in order to try to understand what he is trying
to do here. First, note that he put the expression ‘Eternal Verities’ in quotation marks, which means
that he does not want to be responsible for uttering those words; he is merely quoting the words of
others. This suggests that he considers these words to be inappropriate in some way. And, note also
that he adorns these words with capital letters, a symbolic device which nowadays is commonly used
to mark things as articles of faith. Taken together these extraordinary marks suggest that he intends to
assert that the eternal verity of mathematics is somewhat questionable.
Second, note that in using the word “truistical”, as opposed to the default norm, “true”, he
implies that mathematics is somehow not exactly true, that it is like truth, or to put it bluntly, that it is
not true.1 He also characterizes mathematical truth as “tautological”, to which he subsequently
opposes “empirical” truth.
Third, note that he says that mathematics is limited to the domain of man-made axioms and
definitions, i.e., that mathematics it is limited to the domain of what we would call in the framework
of Peirce’s theory of signs, the symbolic. Or, in other words, he seems to be saying that mathematical
truth is merely symbolic.
As I read this characterization of mathematics, which he lists as the first of the fundamentals
of his new way of thinking, it seems to me that he is saying that he recognizes that mathematics is
commonly considered to be a fundamental of self-evident and unquestionable veracity, but that he
considers it to be of a dubious species of veracity and of limited usefulness. In corroboration of this
reading I point out that, as far as I am aware, Bateson never used any mathematical reasoning at any
1. This by the way is an iconic sign like the plural in English as discussed (somewhere). The underlying principle is this:
Since the false is more complex than the true, to complexify a form is a sign falseness. Thus an abnormally complex
derivative (truistical) of a normal word (true) implies that there is a sense in which the word is false. Therefore, to say
that something is truistical is to say it is false. Likewise, for example, to say that someone is “speechifying”, as
opposed to “speaking” is to imply that he is speaking insincerely. Similarly, to say “He is eating a food-like substance”,
implies that what he is eating is not food. To say, “His ideas are scientistic” implies that they are not really scientific.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
173
The Pragmatics of Language
time in any of his writings. So he mentions mathematics here as a “truistical” fundamental, but he
never actually uses it.
After mathematics he lists among the conceptual fundamentals which he assumes the commonly accepted scientific propositions, by which he means especially the propositions of physics, a
few of which he mentions, such as
the conservation ‘laws’ for mass and energy, the Second Law of Thermodynamics, and so on. (p. 25).
These, as I mentioned, he characterizes as “empirically true”, as distinct from mathematics, which is
merely “tautological” and “truistical”. Although he does not accuse these scientific propositions of
being “truistical”, he does not really use them much either. He alludes to them from time to time in
his writings, but they have little direct relevance to the phenomena he is interested in trying to make
sense of.
Finally, we come to his third class of conceptual fundamentals, those which “are not easily
classified as either empirical or tautological”, and this is where we find the fundamental assumption
which is really critical to the framing of his new way of thinking. It is a curious fact about the style of
his discussion of fundamentals, however, that when he comes to this vital assumption, he only mentions it in a subordinate clause, and then only as an apparent afterthought.
The ‘laws’ of probability cannot be stated so as to be understood and not be believed, but it is not easy to decide
whether they are empirical or tautological; and this is also true of Shannon’s theorems in Information Theory. (p.
25)
It is also curious to note that the main clause of this sentence is uncharacteristically convoluted. What
I think is going on here is that the obtuseness and complexity of his style is a manifestation of the
contradiction underlying his reasoning. On one hand, he gives evidence both in the above statement
and in his actual work, that he does not think much of the practical utility of mathematics in his new
way of thinking. He does not think much of mathematical thinking and he does not think mathematically. And yet Shannon’s Information Theory is a mathematical theory. He defines information as a
probabilistic phenomena. So in establishing the fundamentals of his new way of thinking, Bateson
wants to say that mathematics is of dubious utility, but he also wants to assume Shannon’s concept of
information, which is a mathematical concept, and so he can do both so long as he does it in indirect
ways so as to make the contradiction unclear. In this way he can convey the idea that he believes that
mathematics is irrelevant to his new way of thinking and he can also convey the idea that he assumes
Shannon’s theory of information as a fundamental, without actually saying either, and thus avoid the
contradiction. And, of course, it is clear from his many other texts, or in other words, it is clear from
what he does, that that is what he means. For example, in “The Cybernetics of ‘Self’: A Theory of
Alcoholism”, one of the essays in Steps to an Ecology of Mind, he says:
In the present essay it is suggested: (1) that an entirely new epistemology must come out of cybernetics and systems theory, involving a new understanding of mind, self, human relationship, and power... (p. 280)
In another essay he describes the various ideas which taken together comprise what I am calling the
engineering conceptualization of communication and information thus:
We may call the aggregate of these ideas cybernetics, or communication theory, or information theory, or systems theory. The ideas were generated in many places: in Vienna by Bertalanffy, in Harvard by Wiener, in Princeton by Von Neumann, in Bell Telephone labs by Shannon, in Cambridge by Craik, and so on. (p. 450)
And he characterized the advent of information theory as one of the most significant events ever:
174
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
I think that cybernetics is the biggest bite out of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge that mankind has taken in the
last two thousand years. (p. 452)
So I think we are justified in concluding that Bateson assumed as the foundation of his new way of
thinking the theory of communication that evolved from these various schools of thought, the theory
of communication which has been developed in the framework of the physical sciences, and for the
most part by engineers. And the fundamental element of this theory of communication is the concept
of information as defined by Claude Shannon. Let us then consider this engineering conceptualization of information, and communication.
Claude Shannon’s Theory of Information
To begin we must note that there are two different concepts of information: the ordinary concept of information and the technical concept of information as defined in Shannon’s theory of information. And, of course, as is inevitably the case in language, there is some confusion of these two
concepts. And most people who try to make sense of communication, including Bateson, come to the
task with the premise that the technical sense of the word as defined in Information Theory is the ultimate scientifically legitimate sense, and therefore they feel that it is necessary to take that sense as the
basis of their thinking about communication. However, as I have been arguing, while this scientifical
sense of “information” is valid as far as it goes, it does not go far enough. It focuses upon the most
superficial machinery of communication, and entirely excludes the vital essence of communication.
Therefore this technical definition of information is a scientifically valid sense of the word, and it is a
pragmatically useful sense of the word in regard to the machinery of conveying information, but it is
not the only scientifically valid sense information, nor is it of any use whatever in regard to understanding the pragmatic dimension of communication in general, or the pragmatic dimension of
human communication, which is, after all, the part of communication that we human beings are particularly interested in.
It is important to realize that Shannon developed this conceptualization of communication as
an employee of Bell Telephone Labs, where his job was to study things that might contribute to the
profitability of the telephone company. If we bear this fact in mind as we look at the impartial
description of Information Theory which I have extracted from an encyclopedia below, it becomes
perfectly obvious that this technical way of conceptualizing communication is governed by the desire
to solve the problems of the telephone company, or in other words, to increase the profitability of the
telephone company. I do not in the least mean to imply that there is anything nefarious or ignoble
about this interest in the well being of the telephone company. The point is that it is a very narrow and
specialized interest, and it is very far from my vital interests, or the vital interests of any other human
being, unless they happen to own stock in the telephone company.
As we will see, Information Theory is concerned with the efficiency of the transmission and
processing and storage of the commodity that is conveyed over telephone lines, or by radio waves,
etc., the commodity which it defines as “information”. The purpose of information theory is to reduce
the amount of error in transmission due to noise (keep information from being damaged in transit)
and to maximize the capacity of available channels (find ways to pack more information the same
truck), etc. In other words, as I said above, the idea of conveying information as it is conceived in
information theory is analogous to the idea of conveying potatoes in the trucking industry.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
175
The Pragmatics of Language
In corroboration of this characterization of Information Theory, I cite the following description of Information Theory from Microsoft’s encyclopedia, Encarta.
(Information Theory is)... concerned with the mathematical laws governing the transmission and processing of
information. More specifically, information theory deals with the measurement of information, the representation of information (such as encoding), and the capacity of communication systems to transmit and process information. Encoding can refer to the transformation of speech or images into electric or electromagnetic signals, or
the enciphering of messages to ensure privacy.
Information theory was first developed in 1948 by the American electrical engineer Claude E. Shannon in his
article, “A Mathematical Theory of Communication”. The need for a theoretical basis for communication technology arose from the increase in the complexity and the crowding of communication channels, such as telephone and teletype networks and radio communication systems. Information theory also encompasses all the
other existing forms of information transmission and storage, including television and the electrical impulses
transmitted in computers and in magnetic and optical data recording. The term information refers to the transmitted messages: voice or music transmitted by telephone or radio, images transmitted by television systems, digital
data in computer systems and networks, and even nerve impulses in living organisms. More generally, information theory has found application in such varied fields of inquiry as cybernetics, cryptography, linguistics, psychology, and statistics.
The most extensively studied type of communication system consists of several components. An information
source (such as a person speaking) produces information, or a message, that is to be transmitted. A transmitter,
such as a telephone and amplifier, or a microphone and radio transmitter, converts the message into electronic or
electromagnetic signals. These signals are transmitted through the channel, or medium, such as a wire or the
atmosphere. The channel, in particular, is susceptible to interference issuing from many sources, which distorts
and degrades the signals. (Examples of interference, known as noise, include the static in radio and telephone
reception and the “snow” in television picture reception.) The receiver, such as a radio receiver, reconstructs the
signal back into the original message. The final component is the destination, such as a person listening to the
message.
Two of the major concerns of information theory are the reduction of noise-induced errors in communication
systems, and the most efficient use of total channel capacity.
A fundamental concept in information theory is that the amount of information in a message, called information
content, is a well-defined, measurable mathematical quantity. The term content does not refer to the meaning of
the transmitted message, but to the probability that a given message will be received from a set of possible messages. The highest value for the information content is assigned to the message that is the least probable. If a
message is expected with certainty its information content is 0. If a coin is tossed, for example, the combined
message “heads or tails,” describing the result, has no information content. The two separate messages “heads”
or “tails,” on the other hand, are equally probable and have probabilities of one-half. In order to relate information content (I) to probability, Shannon introduced a simple formula:
I = log 2 × 1 ⁄ p
in which p is the probability of a message being transmitted and log2 is the logarithm of 1/p to a base 2. (Log2 of
a given number is the exponent that has to be given to the number 2 in order to obtain that given number. Log2 of
8 = 3, for example, because 23 = 8.) Using this formula it is found that the messages “heads” or “tails” have an
information content equal to log22 = 1.
The information content of a message can be understood in terms of the number of possible symbols that represent a message. In the example above, if “tails” is represented by a 0, and “heads” by a 1, there is only one choice
to represent the message: 0 or 1. The 0 and the 1 are the digits of the binary system (see Boolean Algebra; Number Systems), and the choice between those two symbols corresponds to the so-called binary information unit, or
bit.
176
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
If messages are transmitted consisting of random combinations of the 26 letters of the English alphabet, the
space, and five punctuation marks, and if it is assumed that the probability of each message is the same, the
entropy H = log232 = 5. This means that five bits are needed to encode each character, or message: 00000,
00001, 00010 … 11111. Efficient transmission and storage of information require the reduction of the number of
bits used for encoding. This is possible when processing English texts because letters are far from being completely random. The probability is extremely high, for example, that the letter following the sequence of letters
“informatio” is an “n”
I would like to discuss four points in the above characterization of information theory that are
of particular relevance to the present argument. First, note that it describes the need, or the problem,
which information theory addresses thus:
The need for a theoretical basis for communication technology arose from the increase in the complexity and the
crowding of communication channels, such as telephone and teletype networks and radio communication systems.
And it describes the solution to this problem in a general way thus:
Two of the major concerns of information theory are the reduction of noise-induced errors in communication
systems, and the most efficient use of total channel capacity.
And it says that the motive for developing the concept of the “bit” as a way of measuring information
is to provide a means of conceptualizing the efficiency of a transmission, as is seen for example in
this statement.
Efficient transmission and storage of information require the reduction of the number of bits used for encoding.
So the motive of information theory is not to try to understand how communication works, but to try
to figure out how to get it from point A to point B in the most efficient way.
Second, note that information theory considers all “transmitted messages” to belong to the
same category of things. Listed by way of example in the above are “voice or music”, visual
“images”, “digital data”, and “nerve impulses”. In terms of the frame of reference being developed in
the present work, this is an error because it fails to discriminate among the three logical types of messages - iconic, indexical, and symbolic. In terms of the ordinary idea of communication it is an error
because it makes no attempt whatever to distinguish between transmitted messages as to what would
in ordinary language be considered to be the essential part of information, namely, validity, intent,
value, force, function, effect, etc. Of course, to keep things straight, this does not imply that information theory is wrong or useless. I am just pointing out in another way that information theory looks at
information the same way the trucking business looks at a prospective load of freight: It is interested
in the goods being shipped only in so far as the character of those goods has a direct bearing on the
maximization of profit. The point is to get the goods there in good condition in good time at the least
cost, and what happens to it after it gets there is of no relevance to either information theory or to the
trucking industry.
Third, note that information theory tries to conceptualize the communicative situation as a
physical event, rather than as an intersubjective act. This is exactly contrary to common sense, and to
the most basic premise of linguistic theory, which takes the intersubjective act as the essence of
human communication, the physical aspect being merely the messenger that carries the information.
Nevertheless, information theory conceives of the basic element of communication as a unidirectional movement which begins with transmission and which ends with reception, like the throwing of
a rock, or the shipping of potatoes. This is evident in the specification of the components of a commu-
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
177
The Pragmatics of Language
nication system. The above quote mentions seven components: a “source” which produces a “message”, which is conveyed by a “transmitter”, in the form of a “signal”, which travels along a
“channel”, to a “receiver”, which is then passed along to the “destination”. To this we must add a crucial eighth component, which, not incidentally, got left out of the above analysis of the communicative situation, and which generally tends to get left out, and that is the code, or, to put it in other
words, the universe of discourse, the system of signs within which a given sign is to be taken as a
sign, which in the case of human communication would be the language. As I say, it is not coincidental that the properties of the code are commonly considered to be marginal in information theory, in
spite of the fact that the code is integral to the technical definition of information, because the code is
not a physical element of the communicative situation. The code is, to be precise, a presupposition of
the communicative situation.
The definition of information given above is “transmitted messages”. This definition, together
with this conceptualization of the components of the communicative situation, frames the communicative situation as beginning with the transmitted message and ending with the received message. So
in information theory, communication is a relationship between a transmitter and a receiver, and a
communication is considered to have taken place when a message is received. This is, of course, consistent with the idea of communication as the conveyance of information, but it is radically different
from the conceptualization of communication that is of interest to the ordinary person, where it is crucial at a minimum for a conveyed message to have had an effect on the addressee in order for it to be
a communicative event. Speaking in terms of human communication, at the least the addressee has to
have understood the message to consider it to be communication. If someone spoke to me in a language I do not know, a communicative event, in the ordinary sense, would not have taken place,
because I would not have understood it; but a communicative event in the information theory sense
would have taken place, because I would have received the signal. We will discuss this difference
more below.
Fourth, consider this sentence, and the definition that follows in the above description of
information theory.
The term content does not refer to the meaning of the transmitted message, but to the probability that a given
message will be received from a set of possible messages.
Note that this reinforces the second point above, which is that from the point of view of information
theory the meaning, or the function, or the value of the message is irrelevant. The only evaluative
standard in information theory, and this is the crux of information theory, is the “amount” of information in a message as measured in “bits”, which corresponds to pounds or tons in the trucking industry,
because this is the measure that determines how much it will cost to convey the information.
Note also that it is in defining the “bit” that the code, or the presupposed universe of discourse, comes into play in that “the set of possible messages” is the universe of discourse in the context of which the probability of any given message is calculated. That is, the information content of a
message is a function of the universe of discourse that the message presupposes. One example discussed above is the coin-toss situation, where there are only two possibilities, so the probability of
either possibility is 1/2, and the information content of any possible message in that universe of discourse is 1, meaning that any possible message can be conveyed in one binary bit, either head or tail.
Note also that since the kind of probability being discussed here is a function of a presupposed
code or universe of discourse, it is a sheerly hypothetical kind probability, as distinct from the real-
178
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
world kind probability. That is, it is a measure of probability in the hypothetical universe defined by a
code, not in the real universe. It is merely a hypothetical factoid about a code, not a pragmatic fact
about the real world. In the coin-toss example, which is always trotted out to demonstrate the probabilistic idea of information, the probabilities of the hypothetical universe and the real universe happen
to correspond, which is, of course, why this example is always used. This is so because the coin-toss
situation itself is an artificially contrived situation to begin with, since there are no coins in nature.
But one can easily think of situations where the probabilities of messages in the universe of the code
and the probabilities of messages in the real universe do not correspond. In fact, excepting such artificial game-like situations as the coin-toss situation, the probabilities of the universe of discourse and
the probabilities of the real universe never correspond, except perhaps by chance. Indeed, the whole
point of this book is, in these terms, that there is a systematically deviant relationship between the
universe of the code and the real universe. And it is precisely in the framework of this disparity that
the real function of communication takes place, and therefore it is for this reason that information theory entirely misses the point of communication.
Consider for example a situation like that in which Paul Revere was involved, in which there
were also only two possible messages, “One if by land, two if by sea”. Information theory would conceptualize this situation thus: there are two possible messages in this set of messages, so the probability of receiving either message is one of two, or 1/2, the same as that in every binary universe of
discourse, or binary code. But in the real universe in which this real communicative interaction was
really played out, there was no way of calculating the probability of which event would actually
occur, and therefore there was no way of calculating the probability of which message would actually
be sent. Indeed, the whole point of the communicative act was to convey information, the probability
of which was unknown and unknowable prior to the actual event which the information was about.
Thus information in the sense in which it is defined in information theory is a function of the
code, which we already know, and therefore is merely tautological. This is totally distinct from information in the ordinary sense, which is about the real world, about things we do not already know, and
therefore is in the sphere of empirical claims, which is to say, claims that may be false, and claims
which must be verified by empirical testing. In sum, the whole point of conveying a message in this
situation, as in any communicative situation, is that its real-world probability is unknown.
So the point I want to make here about the technical idea of information as it is conceptualized
in information theory is that if we look at it from the broader point of view of the theory of signs we
can see that it is framed and bounded by the presupposition of a code, or in other words, it is framed
by a symbolic universe of discourse. As a consequence, it is an error to take information theory as the
foundation of a general theory of communicative interaction, because the essential dynamics of communicative interaction take place outside of the code. To put it concisely, communication is not a
function of the code, the code is a function of communication. And information, in the information
theory sense of information, is in turn a function of the code. So communication is prior to the code,
and the code is prior to information, so it is an error to try to conceptualize communication in terms of
information, in the engineering sense of information.
Now, if we abandon the engineering conceptualization of communication and information,
then we are left with the problem of developing better way of thinking about communication and
information. But of course that is just what we are in the process of doing. We are arguing that instead
of trying to develop a theory of communication and information in the context of physics and mathe-
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
179
The Pragmatics of Language
matics, it would be better to try to develop a theory of communication and information in the context
of the theory of signs, and in particular in the context of an awareness of the essential duplicity of
signs.
What is Information Then?
If information as we use it in everyday life is not what the telephone engineers think it is, then
the question naturally arises as to what information is. Let us address this question before we go on to
consider Grice’s principles.
In order to illustrate the range of information in the pragmatic sense, as distinct from information in the engineering sense, and by way of opening up the way to a consideration of the deeper
aspects of human communication, I would like to mention three facts about information which are
troublesome for the currently prevailing theory of information, and which a general theory of information would have to take into account. First, there is the fact that everything is information. Second,
there is the fact that false information is information. Third, there is the fact that nothing is information. Let us consider these three categories of information.
First, absolutely every thing in the universe conveys information. And what is more, every
thing conveys not just one bit of information but lots of information about lots of other things. But
things only convey information if they are taken as signs and as a function of their being taken as
signs. For example, a cloud in the sky can be taken as a sign of rain. And at the same time it can be
taken as a sign of the direction of the wind. And at the same time it can be taken as a sign of the season of the year. And at the same time it can be taken as a sign that this is a bad day for a picnic. But
the cloud does not exist in order to convey this information. The cloud is just a manifestation of the
interaction of natural forces. The cloud only conveys information as a function of someone’s interpretation of the implications of that manifestation of those natural forces in the context of an awareness of the laws of the interconnectedness of the universe. So everything can convey information to
someone who is capable of interpreting it as a sign. And thus information is a by-product of the unity
of the universe. And at the same time information is also a function of the interests and the desires of
the interpreter, for information does not fall like rain on rocks and trees and ducks and people alike,
but rather is gleaned from the universe like food in answer to hunger. So what is information to a person might not be information to a duck, and what is information to a duck might not be information to
a tree, and of course, rocks do not transact in information at all. So information does not exist as a
physical commodity, like a rock. It is an interactive function of life, and it is a sign function. Something does not convey information until some living organism takes it as a sign. And anything can be
taken as a sign. So anything can convey information. But that is not to say that everything communicates, of course, for although the cloud does convey information to me, it would not be correct to say
that the cloud communicates with me. We will see how Grice tries to clarify this distinction below.
Second, there is a troublesome paradox in the logic of information and communication in
regard to the various species of false information, such as half-truths, distortion, disinformation, lies,
etc. Let me try to illustrate the paradox this way. It is a general principle of categorization that something which is merely similar to X is not an X. For example, a geometric figure that is not exactly
round, such as an ellipse, is not a circle. Similarly a wax thing that looks like an apple is not an apple.
And an image of an apple is also not an apple. But an image of a wax thing that looks like an apple is,
180
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
or at least can be, indistinguishable from an image of an apple. Therefore, in the realm of images it is
possible for that which is not X to be X. An image of a wax apple is an image of an apple. The same
is true in the realm of information, where it is possible for that which is not information to be information. And vice versa.
Look at it another way. The dictionary defines information as knowledge, facts, data. Knowledge is what we know, and, although dictionaries tend to define the verb “know” loosely to include
“believe strongly”, technically “know” it is a factive verb, which means that it, like “realize” and
“discover”, presupposes the truth of its complement. So the first of the following sentences
*Bob knows the earth is flat, but it is really round.
Bob believes the earth is flat, but it is really round.
is logically incoherent because the verb “know” in the first clause presupposes that its complement,
the proposition “the earth is flat”, is true, but the second clause implies that it is false. However, the
second sentence is not logically incoherent because the verb “believe” does not presuppose the truth
of its complement. Therefore, because “know” is a factive verb, we can only say that we “know”
something if we consider that something to be true. So for something to be knowledge it must be true.
And the same holds for facts and data. A fact that is not true is not a fact. And data that is not true is
not data. Thus “true knowledge” and “true fact” “true data” are redundant and “false knowledge” and
“false fact” and “false data” are contradictions. Therefore, it follows from the dictionary definition of
information that, if something is information, then it must be true. Thus the expression “true information” should be redundant, but it is not, and “false information” should be a contradiction, but it is
not. And in keeping the above facts, we have such strange terms as “misinformation” and “disinformation”, but not “*mis-knowledge”, “*misdata”, or “*misfact”. And so, perplexingly, misinformation is information, and disinformation is information. In other words, false information is
information.
For example, consider the case of the angler fish. Does he convey information to the dupe
fish? He certainly conveys something, and I do not see any grounds for claiming that it is not information just because it is false. He conveys the equivalent of the assertion, “This is a worm”, and
given the world-view of the dupe, this assertion has hortative force equivalent to “Come and eat it.”
Further, at least some of the time, he is successful in persuading the dupe to believe it. And thus the
angler fish not only conveys false information to the dupe, but by means of false information he communicates with him in the most literal sense, i.e., they become one. Thus this is an example of false
information that is information. And also an example of miscommunication that is successful communication.
Or consider another case. There is a restaurant that had two entrances. The owners decided
that it would be more efficient to use only one entrance, so they changed the seating arrangement and
kept the other door locked all the time. But it was still a door, so people who were not aware of the
intentions of the owners tried to get in or out of that other door, which caused some confusion and
embarrassment, so the owners put a sign on the door which said “This is not a door.” (Note by the
way that such a sign would be utterly meaningless on anything but a door. In other words, there
would be no point in denying that something was a door unless it was a door, or at least, looked like a
door.) So this is another example of false information that is information. And once again, it also successfully performs its communicative intent.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
181
The Pragmatics of Language
A final example. Communication experts advise us that we must tell the truth in order to really
communicate with people. This advise is predicated on the naive assumption that lies do not convey
any information, or that they convey false information, and thus they do not contribute to our mutual
understanding, which is the purpose of communication. This view is naive in the first place in that it
makes the assumption that understanding is necessarily the purpose of communication, and it is naive
in the second place that it makes the assumption that it is the mutuality of understanding that is
sought. In actual practice, the purpose of communication is commonly for me to understand you, but
not necessarily vice versa. In the typical case, I do not want you to really understand me, I want you
to take me as I represent myself. In the third place, and what is more to the immediate point, this view
is also naive in assuming that lies do not convey information, or that they convey only false information. The truth value of the information that one gleans from a bit of information depends not so much
on the truth of the information itself as on the skill of the one who interprets the information. As we
have seen so many times there are layers and layers of information and the fact of the matter is that
both lies and truth necessarily convey truth. So if one is willing to try to understand by looking
beneath the surface of a lie, it is possible to glean the truth from a lie. And on the contrary, given a
mind that is willing to misunderstand, it is possible to misconstrue the truth. Thus it is a fact that a lie
conveys true information to one who can interpret it properly, but what is more, a lie not only conveys true information, but it conveys a more valuable kind of information than the truth, because a lie
is a sign of something that is particularly important to the speaker and also something that the speaker
wants to hide. So a lie is like a red flag which says “Here is an important secret.” And further, if the
interpreter reads the lie properly, if he inverts it in the correct way, it provides as clear a statement of
the sensitive fact that the speaker wants to hide as any explicit and true statement would. In this way
a lie is particularly conducive to deeper levels of communication because it provides a pathway
through the defenses which usually inhibit meaningful communication. So once again we see that
false information is information.
Let us turn now to the third fact about information, which is that it is quite possible for nothing to be information. There is the well known example of the Sherlock Holmes story in which the
clue, or sign, which lead to the solution of the crime was the dog that didn’t bark. Holmes reasoned
thus: if the bark of a dog is a sign of the intrusion of a stranger, then the no-bark of a dog is a sign
either that no one intruded, or that the someone who intruded was not a stranger. Therefore the fact
that the dog did not bark is information.
And there is nothing extraordinary about this example. Indeed, although it is not a matter of
common knowledge, nothing is integral to the logic of information in the sense that information is a
function of the interplay between nothing and something.1 Just to take a random example, if I am
thinking about going for a walk and I look up and see that there are no clouds in the sky, then the
absence of clouds is a sign that it will not rain, and thus is a sign that it would be a good time to take
1. We cannot go into this principle in detail here, but it is worth pointing out that the fact that this is not common knowledge is another example of the pattern of unawareness that is a function of the duplicity of language. This principle is
virtually unknown in the conventional world-view and yet it perfectly obvious and it also has been known and studied
and publicized throughout history. In recent times I mention Umberto Eco (1986), who said explicitly that information
is a “dialectic of presence and absence” on page 19 and explores this dialectic in the context of Peirce’s theory of signs
throughout the book. I mention Jacques Lacan, who got the idea from Freud’s explanation of how one of his grandchildren learned phonemes. And, going back a few thousand years, I mention the Heart Sutra (Trans. Conze, 1958) which
described this principle in terms of the interdependency between form and emptiness (r7pa and q7nyata).
182
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
a walk. So, in other words, where clouds is a sign of rain, no clouds is a sign of no rain. Clouds and
no-clouds are paradigmatic variants.
And it must not be supposed that this sort of interplay is merely an incidental or marginal
aspect of information. Consider the interplay between silence and sound in language as an example of
the interplay between nothing and something. I mention two well known studies of the meaning of
silence: The Silent Language by Edward Hall and The World of Silence by Max Picard. The most
important point to realize about this interplay is that, contrary to the conventional belief, which is that
nothing is merely the absence of something, or in other words, that something is first and then by contrast nothing is second, when we come to silence and sound it is perfectly obvious that silence is prior
to sound, that silence contains sound, and that it is not that silence is the absence of sound but that
sound interrupts silence. As Max Picard said, “Silence is the firstborn of the basic phenomena”, and
“Silence can exist without speech, but speech cannot exist without silence”. And anyone who is
familiar with the subtleties of verbal interaction knows that silence does not just convey information
by default as a function of the absence of sound, but rather silence conveys a very powerful message
in and of itself, for silence is the sound of truth. Thus silence is innocent, because it cannot be
exchanged, and thus it does not lend itself to be used deceptively. And therefore to the guilty, silence
interrogates. Silence accuses. Silence compels confession. This is what Picard means by saying
Man does not put silence to the test; silence puts man to the test.
This is why most people cannot tolerate silence. If we did not know better, we might think people talk
precisely in order to obscure the compelling message of silence.
As a final illustration of the meaning of nothing, I should like to point out that a great deal of
the information conveyed by a message is a function of what is not said. It is very often the case that
the essence of a message is not what is said, but is what is not said. At the extreme, for example, saying nothing at all to someone is the verbal counterpart of annihilation. It means, “You are non-existent to me.” A less extreme case of not saying something took place in a recent interview of vice
president Al Gore which went something like this:
Al Gore
Interviewer
Al Gore
Interviewer
Al Gore
Interviewer
I am against Proposition 187.
The same issue came up in the past when you were in the senate.
Didn’t you vote for it at that time?
Because this proposition is mean-spirited and would turn teachers and school administrators into informers and would cause
innocent children to suffer and possibly even die from lack of
medical care, etc., etc.
But how did you vote when you were in the senate?
The Republicans are just using those who are different in a partisan way to get elected and they don’t care about the people at all,
etc., etc.
I take that as a “Yes”?
What is going on here is that the interviewer is taking the fact that Al Gore did not reply to his question as a piece of information that means “Yes.”
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
183
The Pragmatics of Language
These examples make it clear, I hope, that nothing is integral to the very logic of information,
and that nothing itself can convey information. Before we go on, I would like to point out that the fact
that nothing is information is a problem for the Information Theory concept of information. One way
to look at the problem is in terms of the concept of binarity which is assumed in the Information Theory definition of information. The binary concept assumed by Information Theory is like that
between heads and tails of a coin, or that between “One if by land, and two if by sea”. But this is a
different type of relation than that between something and nothing, and the latter type is more basic.
In regard to the relation of priority between the two types of binarity, the binary choice
between heads and tails presupposes a coin. You can not have either a head or a tail until you have a
coin. And therefore the [head/tail] relation is conceptually down stream from the [no-coin/coin] relation. Similarly, “one” and “two” are modifiers that presuppose a noun, so the question is, “One or two
what?” In this case, the answer is lights, so the binary choice [no-light/light] is prior to the binary
choice [one/two].
In regard to the difference between these two types of binarity, the prior type is a relation of
asymmetrical opposition and the subsequent is a relation of symmetrical opposition. That is, like the
relation between silence and sound, nothing is prior to something, so no-coin is prior to coin and nolight is prior to light. Their relation is asymmetrical opposition. But there is no relation of priority or
preference between head and tail, so they are in a relation of symmetrical opposition. And although
the number “one” is prior in sequence to “two”, they are of equal status as numbers, and so their relation of opposition in Paul Revere’s code is symmetrical.
We cannot explore the implications of these two types of opposition for Information Theory
here, but let me close this discussion of nothing as information by making the following two observations. First, the fact that there are two types of binarity, and the fact that the logic of asymmetrical
binarity is prior to the logic of symmetrical binarity implies that there is a theory of information that
is more basic than the prevailing theory of information. Second, we can relate these two types of
binarity to the frame of reference we are developing here by pointing out that symmetrical opposition
is a relation of the type of thirdness, or in other words, it is a function of the logic of symbolic signs
only. Asymmetrical opposition, however, is the logic of the type of firstness, or in other words, it is
the logic of signs in general. And this most primitive kind of asymmetrical opposition is the logic of
duplicity, which is our central focus of interest here. So the logic of duplicity is the logic of the dialectic between nothing and something, which is the logic that should be used to try to make sense of
information and communication.
H. P. Grice’s Principle of Cooperation
The philosopher H. P. Grice has contributed significantly to our understanding of the pragmatics of language by his formulation of two basic principles, the principle of cooperation and the
principle of non-natural meaning. I would like to briefly discuss these two principles for two reasons.
First, I would like to use these principles as examples to show how the thinking of even such a
sophisticated and profound student of language as Grice has been dominated and distorted by the
conventionally predominant engineering conceptualization of information and communication. Second, I would like to use these principles as a pathway which we can follow down into the deeper lay-
184
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
ers of the pragmatics of language underlying the facade of communication as mere conveyance of
information.
Grice was led to discover the principle of cooperation by his struggle to try to make sense of
the
divergences of meaning between... the FORMAL devices... and natural language (Grice, 1975, caps in original)
What he means by “formal devices” here are the devices of the sheerly formal, symbolic type of logic
which has traditionally been the exclusive focus of philosophical logicians, which devices are represented by logicians as ~, ∧, ∨, ⊃, ∃, and which correspond to not, and, or, if, and some in natural language. And the problem is that natural language systematically and persistently “diverges” from the
principles of this sheerly symbolic logic. For example, in terms of sheerly symbolic logic “~ ~ x”
means the same thing as “x”, but in natural language is does not. “He is not unhappy” does not mean
the same as “He is happy”. And what is more perverse, in natural language you can’t even say “He is
unsad”, let alone “He is not unsad.” Or another example. In sheerly symbolic logic order is meaningless in the sense that “x ∧ y” means the same as “y ∧ x”, but that is not true in natural language. “He
ate the mushrooms and they made him sick” is not the same as “They made him sick and he ate the
mushrooms” because in natural language formal order implies chronological sequence. These are the
sorts of divergences, and they are truly legion, which lead Grice to say that there seem to be “two logics”, and “not only do they differ, but sometimes they come into conflict” (p. 43). But allowing two
logics is not a solution to the problem, because if logic is the laws of reasoning, and if there are two
conflicting logics, then there really is no law of reasoning. And yet some instances of reasoning are
clearly wrong and some right, so there must be some law of reasoning. This is the dilemma that is
manifest in the divergences of meaning that Grice is trying to address here.
This systematic divergence is the basis of the long standing dichotomy among logicians
between what have traditionally been called the “logical positivist” school and the “ordinary language” school. Grice calls them “the formalist and the informalist groups.” The idea implicit in this
terminology is that the former group thinks the meanings of formal logic are better whereas the latter
group thinks the meanings of ordinary everyday language are better. I would like to point out that
Grice’s terminology is not only more appropriate and more meaningful than the traditional terminology (Why “positivist”?), but it also meshes precisely with our conceptualization of the situation as
represented in Figure 16, “The Dimensions of Pragmatics, Semantics, and Form,” on page 157. The
fact of the matter is that the formalists are those who try to make sense of thinking and of language by
focusing exclusively upon the form of language, whereas the informalists think it is necessary to
include everything, particularly the pragmatics of language. So, although Grice does not use this term
to describe his own thinking, or this “informalist” school of philosophy, I think it is perfectly appropriate to reframe this divergence of meaning, and the corresponding philosophical dichotomy, in
terms of the distinction between the formal and the pragmatic dimensions of language as represented
in Figure 16. In this frame of reference, then, we would say that what Grice is trying to do is to
explain the divergence between formal symbolic logic and the logic of natural language as a function
of underlying pragmatic factors. This has been the implicit practice in linguistics, where the work of
ordinary language philosophers, “informalists”, such as Austin and Searle, and Grice in particular,
has been taken as being about the pragmatics of language. Indeed, the work of these “informalists”
has been being incorporated into linguistics as the basis on which linguists have been trying to
develop an understanding of the pragmatics of language, a trend of thought covering some twenty
years now which is admirably summed up in Levinson’s Pragmatics. So when Grice talks about this
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
185
The Pragmatics of Language
divergence in terms of “two logics”, we will take that as a reference to the formal symbolic type of
logic as distinct from the pragmatic type of logic as represented in Figure 16.1
Grice suggested explaining at least some of these divergences as a function of a loosely
defined distinction he tries to make between conventional meaning and conventional implication on
one hand and what he called “nonconventional implicatures” or “CONVERSATIONAL implicatures” on the other hand.2 He cites the example, “He is in the grip of a vice” which has two meanings:
the more conventional meaning “some part of x’s person was caught in a certain kind of tool” and the
less conventional meaning “x was unable to rid himself of a certain kind of bad character trait”. He
suggests that the latter meaning is an implication that is a function of principles of discourse as
opposed to conventional implications which are strictly a function of formal logic. He mentions an
example of what he calls conventional implication: “He is an Englishman; he, therefore, brave”
implies “Englishmen are brave.” So his idea is that conventional implication is a function of the laws
of logic, and conversational implication is a function of the laws of discourse.
And once again, as we try to understand the distinction he is trying to make here in the present
context, particularly in the frame of reference of Figure 16, we are led to reframe the distinction not
as conventional/logical meaning vs. nonconventional/conversational meaning but as formal vs. pragmatic. So the distinction he is trying to make is between meanings and implications that are a function of the superficial level of literal meaning and formal logic on one hand as distinct from the
deeper level of meanings and implications that are a function of pragmatic value and pragmatic implications on the other. So reframing his suggestion in these terms, what he is suggesting is that there are
two systems of implication, divergent and sometimes contradictory, because there are two systems of
principles, namely, the principles of form and the principles of pragmatics. The question then is what
are the operative laws of pragmatics which govern the system of what Grice calls “conversational
implicatures.”
In answer to this question Grice suggests that there is a natural pragmatic principle governing
verbal interaction, and perhaps all purposive interaction, which he calls the “COOPERATIVE PRINCIPLE”
which participants will be expected (ceteris paribus) to observe, namely: Make your conversational contribution
such as is required, at the stage at which it occurs, by the accepted purpose or direction of the talk exchange in
which you are engaged. (p. 45)
Following the order of Grice’s presentation let us briefly describe the COOPERATIVE PRINCIPLE
(henceforth abbreviated as CP) then we will consider its metaphysical status, then we will see how it
works in explaining the troublesome divergences of meaning Grice calls “conversational implicature.”
First, Grice suggests defining the CP in terms of four maxims corresponding to Kant’s basic
categories of Quantity, Quality, Relation, and Manner. The maxim of Quantity stipulates that you
must
1. Of course there are three levels in Figure 16. But Grice only distinguishes two types of logic, and since our purpose
here is not to explain logic but to explore Grice’s thinking, we will have to tolerate this oversimplification. We cannot
do everything at the same time.
2. He himself states, “I shall, for the time being at least, have to assume to a considerable extent an intuitive understanding...” of this distinction.
186
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
1.
2.
Make your contribution as informative as is required (for the current purpose of the exchange).
Do not make your contribution more informative than is required.
The maxim of Quality stipulates:
1.
2.
Do not say what you believe to be false.
Do not say that for which you lack adequate evidence
The maxim of Relation has only one stipulation:
1.
Be relevant.
And the maxim of Manner has several stipulations including these:
3.
Avoid obscurity of expression.
Avoid ambiguity.
Be brief (avoid unnecessary prolixity).
4.
Be orderly.
1.
2.
Second, moving on to consider the metaphysical status of the CP, the question is what kind of
law it is. Is it natural law? Is it logical law? Is it conventional law? This is where Grice’s discussion
becomes confused: it is confused in part by his assumption of the naive physicalist view that a situation must necessarily be monoplicitous and it is confused in part by his naive assumption of the engineering view of language, which is that language is essentially a means of communication and
communication is the exchange of information.
Grice observes that there are
all sorts of other maxims (aesthetic, social, or moral in character), such as ‘Be polite’, that are also normally
observed by participants in talk exchanges, and these may also generate nonconventional implicatures. (p. 47)
But he wants to suggest that the CP is different in that it is
specially connected (I hope) with the particular purposes that talk (and so, talk exchange) is adapted to serve and
is primarily employed to serve. I have stated my maxims as if this purpose were a maximally effective exchange
of information: this specification is, of course, too narrow, and the scheme needs to be generalized to allow for
such general purposes as influencing or directing the actions of others. (p. 47, his parentheses, my emphasis)
And he restates the same idea a little later thus:
I would like to be able to show that observance of the CP and maxims is reasonable (rational) along the following
lines: that any one who cares about the goals that are central to conversation/communication (e.g., giving
and receiving information, influencing and being influenced by others) must be expected to have an interest,
given suitable circumstances, in participation in talk exchanges that will be profitably only on the assumption
that they are conducted in general accordance with the CP and the maxims. (p. 49, his parentheses, my emphasis)
Grice is suggesting that those other maxims mentioned above, such as “Be polite”, are incidental to
the real purpose of talk whereas the CP is “specially connected” with the purpose of talk in the sense
that the CP describes the way one must act in order to fulfill the purpose of talk. And he assumes that
the central purpose of talk is “a maximally effective exchange of information”.
The idea that the central purpose of talk is “a maximally effective exchange of information”
is, of course, the view of talk that was developed in the engineering framework as we showed above.
I do not want to suggest that Grice adopted the engineering theory of talk intentionally or knowingly
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
187
The Pragmatics of Language
as a considered position that followed from a critical evaluation of the facts. Rather I would suggest
that Grice came to hold this view, like Bateson, and most other modern intellectuals, unconsciously
and uncritically as part of the modern conventional world-view. But at the same time he is aware of at
least some of the facts which are inconsistent with this view, and he is honest enough that he finds
himself caught in a confusing dilemma as to the purposes of language and as to the metaphysical status of the CP. He wants to say that the CP is a universal natural law in some sense, but he cannot reconcile the various contradictions he sees in a monoplicitous conceptualization of the situation. And
consequently his discussion of the status of the CP reflects this confusion and contradiction.
Let us consider the confusions and contradictions in regard to the purposes of talk. In the
above quotes Grice wants to say that the purpose of talk is the efficient exchange of information but
he knows that language is also used to influence, and, as we will discuss shortly, there is a contradiction between these two purposes. It is evident that Grice is aware that there is a problem with his idea
of the purpose of talk because he says that he formulates the CP “as if” (the counterfactual conditional) the efficient exchange of information were the purpose of talk, and so he feels obliged to qualify this by saying that it is “too narrow”. But in so qualifying his characterization of the purpose of
talk he is still holding the assumption that “a maximally effective exchange of information” is the
central purpose of talk; he is merely allowing that there might be other, secondary purposes such as
“influencing or directing the behavior of others.”
I would like to point out that in mentioning this “influencing and directing” he alludes to the
dimension of force in language, which I suggest is closer to the central purpose of talk than the
exchange of information. That is, when people talk they are more concerned with the influencing and
directing that goes on than with the efficiency of the exchange of information. And as we will see as
this discussion proceeds, people are more than willing to sacrifice efficiency to gain force. Indeed,
the lure of cooperation and efficiency in interpersonal relations is not only commonly used as a
means of exercising force, it is the very crux of linguistic force. We discuss language as an instrument
of force in the next section.
I would also like to note that, whereas Grice mentions that one can use talk to influence others, he does not mention that one can use talk to influence one’s self. By this omission he implies
either that there is no such thing as self-directed talk, or that other-directed talk is more important
than self-directed talk. But as a matter of fact, the self (I, first person) is conceptually prior to the
other (you, second person), just as one is prior to two. So the self-directed aspect of talk is prior to the
other-directed aspect of talk. In other words, whether one tries to influence others or not, the fundamental springs of talk are in the self, so talk is always addressed primarily at the self.
Given these two observations about the purpose of talk, it is apparent that Grice’s conceptualization of the purpose of talk is eccentric in two ways. He puts the efficiency of the exchange of information prior to the force of information, but in fact force is prior to efficiency. And, he puts the other
prior to the self, but in fact the self is prior to the other. Bearing in mind these errors in the characterization of the purpose of talk, let us return to consider Grice’s discussion of the metaphysical status of
the CP.
Given that the CP is specially connected with the purpose of talk, Grice goes on to consider
a fundamental question about the CP and its attendant maxims, namely, what the basis is for the assumption we
seem to make.
His first answer is this.
188
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
A dull but, no doubt at a certain level, adequate answer is that it is just a well recognized empirical fact that people DO behave in these ways; they have learned to do so in childhood and not lost the habit of doing so; and,
indeed, it would involve a good deal of effort to make a radical departure from the habit. (p. 48, my emphasis, his
capitalization)
This is a perplexing claim. It is perplexing in the first place because it is false: it is NOT an empirical
fact and what is more it is “well recognized” that it is not an empirical fact. On the contrary, it is common knowledge that people commonly say what they believe to be false, say that for which they lack
adequate evidence, speak ambiguously, are unnecessarily prolix, are irrelevant, etc. And what makes
this claim most perplexing is that on the very next page, where Grice comes to the point of this essay,
he points out that conversational implicature is conveyed as a function of violations of the CP. He
outlines the various ways in which talk fails to obey the CP (violating, opting out, clashing, flouting),
and he explains how it is that such violations convey conversational implicatures. His point is that
there is a whole dimension of meaning in natural language whereby people convey implications by
intentional, systematic violations of the CP in various ways, a process which he calls “exploitation.”
In other words, Grice’s basic point here is that there is a system of meaning in natural language that is
a function of the interplay between the obligation to obey the COOPERATIVE PRINCIPLE and the
exploitation of the COOPERATIVE PRINCIPLE by violating it. So there is a striking conflict in his
thinking here between his claim that it is an empirical fact that people do behave in conformity with
the CP and his explanation of conversational implicature as a function of systematic violations of the
CP.
I would like to suggest that the key to resolving this conflict is the phrase “at a certain level”
with which he qualifies his assertion that the CP is a statement of empirical fact in the above quote.
As we are trying to argue in this book, in order to make sense of anything in language one must analyze it as a function of levels of duplicity. I would like to suggest that the claim Grice makes in the
above quote is true at the deepest level of analysis: the CP is a natural and universal principle of interaction in the sense that any interaction that is cooperative must follow the CP because the CP is a
description of what it means to cooperate. However, we must realize that in practice the CP is necessarily suspended in the complex space of intersubjective contingency because cooperation is necessarily a contingent interaction between two parties.
Given the intersubjective dimension of interaction it becomes clear that the CP must be conceptualized in the logic of intersubjectivity as represented in Figure 36, “The Strategic Paradox,” on
page 308. In other words, the force of the CP is necessarily contingent: If the party of the first part (I)
is going to cooperate, then the party of the first part must obey the CP. But the party of the first part
will not agree to cooperate with the party of the second part (you) unless the party of the second part
agrees to cooperate with the party of the first part, and vice versa. So in actual practice the CP only
has force in the context of an agreement to cooperate. This is what Grice is trying to get at when he
talks about the CP as having contractual force:
I was attracted by the idea that observance of the CP and the maxims, in a talk exchange, could be thought of as
a quasi-contractual matter, with parallels outside the realm of discourse... But while some such quasi-contractual
basis as this may apply to some cases, there are too many types of exchange, like quarreling and letter writing,
that it fails to fit comfortably. It is much easier, for example, to tell the truth than to invent lies. (p. 48)
Although his feeling that cooperation is a contractual matter is a penetrating insight into the metaphysical status of the CP, he abandons his insight almost at once because he is unable to reconcile the
conflict between the contractual obligation to cooperate and the fact that people quarrel in the context
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
189
The Pragmatics of Language
of the monoplicitous world-view which he has uncritically taken as his frame of reference. In order to
reconcile this conflict one must try to make sense of it in the duplicitous frame of reference.
Everyone knows that in reality talk, as well as all other kinds of interaction, is not necessarily
a cooperative enterprise. It depends on the purposes of the two parties involved and how their purposes fit together and the strategy adopted by each of the two parties. The fact is that talk, as well as
other kinds of interaction, constantly slides or oscillates or jumps back and forth between cooperation
and conflict, between conformity to the CP and violation of the CP. Indeed, it is normal for cooperation and conflict to be going on at the same time in different ways at different levels of analysis. Or in
other words, it is normal for a single sentence, or even a single word, to both conform to the CP and
to violate the CP. And, as we will see shortly, in spite of the fact that Grice was not able to make
sense of the contradictory metaphysical status of the CP in the one-level theory of language he had
adopted, this is precisely the point Grice is trying to make in this essay, for it is by means of the
simultaneous conformity to and violation of the CP that language conveys what Grice calls conversational implicature.
In developing an understanding of the way conversational implicature works, it would be useful to illustrate how co-operation and conflict are layered in the logic of contingent intersubjectivity.
At the first level, at the level of what is naturally so, we have the COOPERATIVE PRINCIPLE as a
simple fact of life more or less as stated by Grice: It is good to cooperate and so it is in our best interest to obey the COOPERATIVE PRINCIPLE. At this level the CP is just a statement of fact, as Grice
said in the quote above, although it is not an empirical fact about what people do, it is a fact about
what it is good for people to do. For example, in regard to the truth part of the CP, it is always good to
know the truth, and it is in principle good to tell the truth, but it is not always good to tell the truth in
practice, at least not directly, and in fact people commonly do not tell the truth. In this same sense it is
a fact that it is good to cooperate: it is always good for other people to cooperate with me, and it is in
principle good for me to cooperate with other people, but it is not always good for me to cooperate
with other people in practice, and in fact people commonly do not cooperate. Thus the CP is a statement of fact that is of the same metaphysical order as the statement that the good road is good in the
example discussed in connection with Figure 36, “The Strategic Paradox,” on page 308. And, as we
saw in that example, when we add to the basic conceptualization of the situation the possibilities that
arise as a function of the interaction of living organisms, especially human beings, where the dynamic
of contingent intersubjectivity comes into play, what is good can be bad and what is bad can be good.
So the basic fact is that it is good to cooperate. And therefore, the natural foundation of our
interpersonal interaction, including talk interaction, is the tacit contract to cooperate with each other.
And unless there is some reason to overcome the natural presumption, we are inclined to obey the CP.
However, the contract is contingent on performance, so if it looks like you are violating the CP, then
the basis of our relationship is removed, I will at least tentatively suspend my agreement to the contract, and I will not be obliged to obey the CP. At this point it is unclear whether our continued interaction will be one of cooperation or conflict or what, so in order for me to decide how to govern my
behavior I have to try to decide what you are doing by violating the tacit contract to obey the CP. I
have to undertake a pragmatic reassessment of the situation. Are you declining to relate to me by opting out of the contract, or are you just stupid, or are you trying to manipulate me by pretending to
agree to the CP while secretly exploiting my willingness to obey the contract, or are you just playing
with me by pretending to violate the contract? It is this latter type of violation of the CP which Grice
identifies as the means by which by which the CP is used, “exploited” is Grices’ term, to convey conversational implicature. So in regard to the metaphysical status of the CP, although it subject to the
190
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Means of Communication
contingencies of intersubjective duplicity, at bottom the Cooperative Principle is a natural law. It is
good to cooperate.
Now, turning to the question of how conversational implicature is conveyed by the violation
of the CP, I would like to cite the description of the convoluted reasoning involved that is given by
Stephen C. Levinson in his textbook Pragmatics (1983, p. 102), as it is much more detailed than
Grice’s description.
in most ordinary kinds of talk these principles are oriented to, such that when talk does not proceed according to
their specifications, hearers assume that, contrary to appearances, the principles are nevertheless being adhered
to at some deeper level. An example should make this clear:
A:
Where’s Bill?
B:
There’s a yellow VW outside Sue’s house.
Here B’s contribution, taken literally, fails to answer A’s question, and thus seems to violate at least the maxims
of Quantity and Relevance. We might therefore expect B’s utterance to be interpreted as a non-co-operative
response, a brushing aside of A’s concerns with a change of topic. Yet it is clear that despite this apparent failure
of co-operation, we try to interpret B’s utterance as nevertheless co-operative at some deeper (non-superficial)
level. We do this by assuming that it is in fact co-operative, and then asking ourselves what possible connection
there could be between the location of Bill and the location of a yellow VW, and thus arrive at the suggestion
(which B effectively conveys” that, if Bill has a yellow VW, he may be in Sue’s house.
In cases of this sort, inferences arise to preserve the assumption of co-operation; it is only by making the assumption contrary to superficial indications that the inferences arise in the first place. It is this kind of inferences that
Grice dubs an implicature, or more properly a conversational implicature. So Grice’s point is not that we always
adhere to these maxims on a superficial level but rather that, wherever possible, people will interpret what we say
as conforming to the maxims on at least some level.
And as Grice makes clear by numerous examples, the mechanism of conversational implicature is not
limited to strange exchanges as this, but pervades every kind of linguistic function.
For example, he points out that a letter of recommendation written for a candidate for a philosophy
job that says
Dear Sir, Mr. S’s command of English is excellent, and his attention at tutorials has been regular. Yours, etc.
conveys the implication that the candidate is no good at philosophy. And he points out that metaphor,
irony, meiosis, hyperbole, etc. work by means of the logic of conversational implicature. So the
duplicitous logic of the apparent violation of the CP in order to convey conversational implicatures
pervades language.
One final point should be made by way of limiting the presumption that talk exchange is
always cooperative, even when it appears not to be cooperative, and that is that talk exchange is not
always cooperative. I grant that it is an objective fact that it is good to cooperate, but it is also a fact
that there are occasions when we merely pretend to cooperate, when we use language as a means of
exploiting the naive good will of others so that we can influence and manipulate them to further our
own personal interests. And when we consider the truly non-cooperative use of language, when we
consider the dynamics of surreptitious conflict, when we consider the sorts of duplicitous maneuvers
we use to try to secretly manipulate others, and ourselves, we see that there is an intrinsic conflict
between the purpose of efficiently conveying information and the purpose of efficiently manipulating. If we want to cooperate then we must try to effect a maximally efficient exchange of information.
Bit if we want to manipulate, then we must try to effect a maximally efficient exchange of misinfor-
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
191
The Pragmatics of Language
mation, particularly in regard to our motives. So once again in the end we come to the essential
duplicity of language: cooperation and conflict, and information and misinformation are inextricably
intertwined in the paradoxical logic of duplicity.
Language as Instrument of Force
If communication is not the essential function of language, then what is the essential function
of language? We will frame our approach to this question in the context of the characterization of the
function of language by of Edward Sapir, who is commonly considered to have been the most deeply
insightful of the patriarchs of modern linguistics.
To begin with let us note that Sapir was in agreement with the premise of this discussion,
which is that communication is not the essential function of language.
It is difficult to see adequately the functions of language, because it is so deeply rooted in the whole of human
behavior...The primary function of language is generally said to be communication...(but)... the purely communicative aspect of language has been exaggerated. It is best to admit that language is primarily a vocal actualization
of the tendency to see realities symbolically...(1985, p. 15, my parentheses and my emphasis.)
And Sapir explained what he meant by “symbolically” in his essay entitled “Symbolism” in the Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences:
Amid the wide variety of senses in which the word is used there seem to emerge two constant characteristics.
One of these is that the symbol is always a substitute for some more closely intermediating type of behavior,
whence it follows that all symbolism implies meanings which cannot be derived directly from the contexts of
experience. The second characteristic of the symbol is that it expresses a condensation of energy, its actual significance being out of all proportion to the apparent triviality of meaning suggested by its mere form. This can be
seen at once when the mildly decorative function of a few scratches on paper is compared with the alarming significance of apparently equally random scratches which are interpreted by a particular society as meaning “murder” or “God”. This disconcerting transcendence of form...(1985, p. 564)
I would like to orient our discussion of the function of language here in terms of the four main
characteristics of the symbol as Sapir described them in this quote (and in his writings generally).
First, the meaning of the symbol is not “derived directly from the context of experience.” That is, the
value of a symbol does not flow directly from its relation to any aspect of our immediate experience.
What he is getting at here is that the function of the word “duck” is not a function of ducks. This is so
because, second, the symbol is a substitute for something else. As a consequence, third, the symbol
“expresses a condensation of energy.” In other words, a symbol is charged with an inappropriate level
of energy because that energy has been transferred to it by the process of condensation from the
something else for which it is a substitute. And fourth, this process of condensation and substitution
yields symbolic objects in which there is an inappropriate and “disconcerting transcendence of form.”
Let me point out, if it is not already apparent, that the framework of duplicity which we have
been developing already incorporates these four aspects of the symbolic process. Sapir’s condensation and substitution are the same as Peirce’s firstness and secondness, Jakobson’s similarity and contiguity, and Freud’s condensation and displacement. We discussed the “disconcerting transcendence
of form” in the pragmatics of language explicitly in “The Displacement of Interest from Pragmatics
to Form” on page 159. And to be a victim of the duplicity of language means to take the representa-
192
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Instrument of Force
tions of language at face value, which is to say in terms of their outer form. And finally, the crux of
the duplicity of language is the separation between the value a linguistic object is supposed to have
and the one it really has. So in framing our discussion of the function of language in Sapir’s terms we
are not changing to a new frame of reference. We are just shifting our focus to aspects of the dynamic
of language which had previously been allowed to remain in the background.
In particular I would like to focus our exploration of the function of language upon two points.
First, in regard to the process that Peirce called Firstness, and Sapir (probably following Freud) called
“condensation”, I would like to shift our focus from the logic of the relation of condensation - similarity - to the idea that what is being condensed is “energy.” Second, in regard to the process that
Peirce called Secondness, and Sapir called “substitution,” I would like to shift our focus from the
relation between the two elements being substituted, to focus on the logic of the process of substitution in general. In the rest of this section I will discuss the role of energy in the function of language
and in the next section I will discuss the role of substitution in the function of language.
In describing the function of language in these terms Sapir wrote emphatically about
how completely the life of man as an animal made over by culture is dominated by the verbal substitutes for the
physical world. (1985, p. 16)
In regard to this function, Sapir considered language to be
a great force of socialization, probably the greatest that ever exists.
Note that the idea that language is a force of socialization implies that language exerts a force on
behalf of society. And the idea that language is a force of socialization would seem to imply that
there is some work being performed which changes the natural state of things. It implies a conflict of
forces. If language is a force of socialization, then, since the opposite of society is the individual, this
idea implies that language is a force which is exerted on behalf of society against the interests of the
individual, when the interests of the individual come into conflict with the interests of society. And
from the way Sapir talks about this idea it is clear that this is what he has in mind.
The function of language in relation to the individual, as seen from this point of view, then, is
to transform man from his natural condition into a social object. To cause him to conform to the dictates of conventionality. To cause him to be a subservient and obedient player of the roles dictated by
his society. In other words, from this point of view, language is seen as an instrument of the tyranny
of conventionality. Society uses language as an instrument of control and domination of the individual. So language is an instrument of force.
In regard to the way this conflict is unconsciously framed in the underlying semantics of
English, note that the word “individual” was borrowed into English via French from Latin individuus
(second i is long), which is from the prefix in- “not” and the verb dividere (first i is long) and means
“not divisible”. Recall that we pointed out in Chapter 2, in conjunction with our discussion of the etymology of “sign” as deriving from the Indo-European root meaning “second”, that “social” is from
the same root. Thus the semantics of English frames the relation of between the individual and society as one of asymmetrical binarity, or asymmetrical opposition, where the individual is the undivided one, which is to say, the first, as opposed to the social, which is second, which is to say,
duplicitous, and thus multiple. So when language forces an individual to become a social being, to
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
193
The Pragmatics of Language
adopt a social persona, it is forcing him to adopt a secondary persona, a second nature. And of course,
in the present context, it is obvious that a second nature is a false nature.
I would also like to mention that the idea that the idea that society oppresses the individual
through language is not by any means an unusual one. This is exactly the point which Freud tried to
make in his last great work, Civilization and its Discontent. He argued that all people are neurotic and
unhappy (or worse) because they have been profoundly inhibited, twisted, and dominated by society
through the instrumentality of language. I quoted Jacques Lacan in the introductory chapter to the
effect that “man is the subject that is captured and tortured by language.”
As I tried to show in Chapter 2, this is also the point of the story of the Trojan Horse and it is
the point of the Bible.
In the same vein, while it is undeniable that language transforms man from his natural state
into a pawn of society, it is at the same time undeniable that underneath his clothes he is just as naked
as he was at his nativity. What does this mean? It means that there are two kinds of society. There is
the society on stage and the society off stage. There is official society and unofficial society. There is
public society and private society. Language, and representation in general, dominate only in the
former. The more intimate the mode of social intercourse the more purely expressive the behavior is.
And conversely, the more fully representational an act is the more destructive it is of the mood of intimacy and the more forcefully it imposes the official frame of reference. Thus we are justified in distinguishing between an artificial kind of society and a natural kind of society.
I think it is interesting to think of language in relation to its function as an instrument of
energy and force in terms of a machine. A machine is
a device or contrivance serving the purpose of altering the magnitude or direction, or both, of a force.
According to this definition a language is a machine. Language uses relations of similarity to alter the
magnitude of force, i.e. condensation, and it uses relations of opposition to alter the direction of force,
i.e. displacement.
In the context of the knowledge that the processes of condensation and displacement are
duplicitous, or in other words, that they are inversions of truth, it is clear that the force that is being
manipulated by the machine we know as language is the force of truth. So language is a machine that
transforms the force of truth into the imaginary, the fantastic, etc. So one could characterize language
as a vast fantasy machine.
Finally, in regard to language as an instrument of force it is important to realize that in so far
as it is contrary to the truth language is an instrument of violence, mutilation, and destruction.
Language as Medium of Substitution
Now let us consider language as a substitutive mode of behavior. We can begin to explore this
idea by observing that if substitution is the primary function of language then the normal human child
194
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Medium of Substitution
must begin to do it at a very early age. We can then suppose that the child must realize at some very
early point in his development that he is capable of substituting, he must decide that substitution is a
good thing to do, and furthermore he must adopt substitution as a general policy. So we can hypothecate a foundation underlying language that consists of the prototypical sequence of events along the
following lines.
Discovery
Aha! I can substitute!
Evaluation
Substitution is good.
Policy
I will substitute as much as I can.
Of course this is all hypothetical, but then theories are made of hypotheses. And if language is
primarily a substitutive mode of behavior, then it must have a conceptual foundation something like
this. And these hypotheses flesh out the principles underlying substitution in somewhat specific
terms, which suggests lines of inquiry that we can follow in exploration of the hypothesis. For example, what motivates the child to evaluate substitution as a good thing? Exactly what sort of substitution does he have in mind? What does he intend to substitute for what? And at bottom, why
substitute? These are important questions, but before we can hope to answer them, we must have a
fuller understanding of the concept of substitution. We will thus defer the question of why until we
have had a chance to gain a fuller understanding of the concept and the mechanics of substitution.
In this frame of mind then, let us survey the territory encompassed by the concept of substitution. We can begin to amplify our understanding by looking at the word in the context of a full sentence such as this.
Someone substitutes something for something
In this fuller form we can see more of the components of the concept. And we can expand this view to
still another order of magnification by focusing upon the various points of vagueness or ambiguity.
For example, one might consider specifying “someone” as “the child”, though as we will see shortly
the identification of the subject is problematic. We will return to this problem shortly when we
explore the nouns in this sentence, but first let us contemplate the vagueness of the verb “substitutes”,
which, having been borrowed from Latin, is semantically opaque to the ordinary English speaker. We
can clarify it by substituting some semantically equivalent native English word. For example, one
could profitably consider the implications of
Someone puts something in place of something
which raises the very interesting question of what is meant by “place”.
Or one might consider the implications of the following somewhat legalistic sounding paraphrases:
Someone holds something forth as something else
Someone holds something out as something else
Here we see the intimations of another person (hold out to whom?) which we will return to. And at
the same time we also see the issue of truth begin to raise its head, for when we express the idea of
substitution in native English vocabulary the implication of fraud comes to the fore: “To hold something out as something else” is the way we describe fraud.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
195
The Pragmatics of Language
If we now add the other person we would get
Someone holds something forth to someone as something else
Someone holds out something to someone as something else.
where the second someone is the victim of the fraud.
We can bring our exploration back into more familiar linguistic territory by replacing “hold
forth” with the semantically equivalent “represent”.
Someone represents something to someone as something else.
This present context highlights a hitherto hidden aspect of this familiar word. Here we can see clearly
that there is a dark side to representation which we can explicitly bring out by taking advantage of
one of those infamous reversals of valence that we so often find in language. The following sentence
is semantically equivalent to the above sentence, even though the morphological semantics of the
verb is opposite.
Someone misrepresents something to someone as something else.
Here in this chain of substitutions we have evolved a clear and explicit characterization of the essential duplicity of language: To represent is to substitute and to substitute is to hold one thing forth as
another and to do that is to misrepresent. So this is the crux of the duplicity of language in a nutshell:
To represent is to misrepresent.
And this statement is not intended to be hyperbolic in the least. It is not that representation may misrepresent, but that representation does misrepresent. It is inherent in the nature of representation and
thus in the nature of language.
To see that this is so in another way consider the logic of substitution, or representation, in
formulaic terms. For example, consider an entity in language, “A”, which represents “X”.
A represents X
In the realm of language, if A represents X, then A is taken as X. That is, if A is to count as X, then it
must be considered to be X. Thus in the realm of language
A is X.
And, if A is X in language, then to avoid inconsistency, it must also be the case in language that
A is not A
and also that
X is not X.
But at the same time the following propositions are necessarily true by the law of identity.
A is A
X is X
A is not X.
196
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Medium of Substitution
The necessity of maintaining the validity of this collection of contradictory propositions is the knot of
confusion which lies at the heart of language. There are the following three paradoxes in the logic of
representation:
A is A and A is not A
X is X and X is not X
A is X and A is not X
And one can only make sense of this knot of confusion by adopting a duplicitous point of view which
permits one to separate and order these various propositions as in Figure 18.
FIGURE 18.
The Duplicitous Logic of Representation
A is X
therefore
A is not A
X is not X
Universe2=The World of Representation
A is A
X is X
A is not X
Universe1=The Real World
So if one examines the logic of representation carefully, it is obvious that when language represents X as A it necessarily misrepresents X, because A is A and it is not X. The only thing that
could truly represent X is X itself, but then we do not call the relation representation, but rather manifestation.
The Predicate of Differential Value: Prior
Now let us return to our sentences of substitution to investigate the nominal ambiguities mentioned above. When we consider the simple sentence
Someone substitutes something for something
it is obvious that the two somethings need to be disambiguated in some way, for they refer to two different things. Further, there is a systematic relationship between the two somethings that needs to be
clarified. The relationship is this: The first something must be of less value than the second something. (Presumably it is this “less” which is referred to by the “sub” of “substitute”.)
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
197
The Pragmatics of Language
A slightly different view of this relationship can be seen if we paraphrase the sentence with a
nominalization of “substitution” in the place of one of the somethings.
Someone put a substitute in the place of something
leads us to the notion that the second “something” is in some sense the original thing or the real thing
and is generally also of greater value in some sense or other. To take a specific example, in the sentence
Cubic zirconium is often substituted for diamonds in jewelry
diamond is the original thing for which cubic zirconium is substituted and diamonds are also more
valuable than cubic zirconium. In fact it is this differential of value which motivates the substitution.
So one of the things that we need in order to capture the essence of the idea of substitution is a predicate which can simply and precisely characterize the relation of differential value which must obtain
between the two somethings.
I would like to suggest that we disambiguate the two nominals by marking them with numerical indices like this.
Someone substitutes something² for something¹
Obviously these indices do take care of the ambiguity of reference, as would any other extraneous
appended marks. But I am suggesting that these numerical indices are more than coincidentally useful. What I want to suggest is that the semantics of the relationship between one and two taken as
indices of order, i.e., as cardinal numbers, precisely defines the relationship between the nominals so
marked in the sentence of substitution.
To be more explicit, the predicate which describes the relation between one and two is
“prior”. Thus in defining substitution we would say that just as 1 is prior to 2, so is the original prior
to the substitute. And, so is the real (diamond, or whatever) prior to an imitation. And so is the real
prior to the imaginary and the symbolic. And, so is the natural prior to the artificial, the manufactured, and the invented. And, so is natural law prior to the social contract, conventional law, legislative law, etc. And, in the technical sense used in linguistics, so is the unmarked prior to the marked.
And, so is the true prior to the false. And so on.
I want to suggest then that the relation of priority between the two somethings is integral to
the concept of substitution. And as we have pointed out many times, the relationship between the two
levels of duplicity is also one of priority. So it should be clear that we are moving toward the claim
that the logic of duplicity and the logic of substitution are the same, and that both are a function of the
fundamental relation of priority.
Before we go on to explore the idea of substitution further in terms of priority, it might be
expedient to parenthetically speak to the fact that this proposal is contrary to the belief widely held
among linguists, and others, that the phenomena of language could not possibly be described adequately in terms of any binary concept. At this point, I do not want to take the time to discuss specific
examples of phenomena which might be thought to be problematic for the concept of priority, but I
will discuss the issue in general terms and briefly demonstrate how some kinds of apparently nonbinary relationships can be generated by the binary concept of priority.
198
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Medium of Substitution
First let me frame this issue by pointing out that, as we have seen time and time again, there
are two distinct kinds of binary relations. There is a kind of binarity that is a function of language and
there is a kind that is prior to language. Again, this is not the place to go into detail, but the essence of
the difference is that the prior kind of binary relation is asymmetrical where the subsequent kind is
symmetrical.1
One of the consequences of this difference is that the relation of priority, being asymmetrical,
can be iterated to create complex networks of relations that are quite difference in appearance from
those generated by symmetrical relations, and can easily be mistaken for trinary or scalar relations.
Let me explain and illustrate this point.
The relation of priority can be iterated in two ways. The first mode of iteration is best thought
of as radial: beginning from any reference point taken as a first, it is possible to derive an infinite
number of seconds, thereby generating a set of one or more seconds related to a single first in the
same way as one or more points on a circle are related to its center. The second mode of iteration is a
kind of chaining: from any point taken as a first, a second can be derived, and that second can then be
taken as another first from which another second can be derived, etc., creating a chain of theoretically
indeterminate length, the elements of which differ in degree of priority, such that one can speak of a
second first, a third first, etc. and a first second, a second second, etc. And by combining these two
modes of iteration one can generate exactly the kinds of associative networks of semantic and syntactic relations which we find in language. And yet for every element, for every cluster of elements, and
for every chain of elements there will be a prior element, until one gets down to the first first, for
which there is no prior.
If we construct a new theory of language on the predicate of priority, that theory will provide
a logical explanation for the concepts of chaining and radial categories which Lakoff (1987) argued
on empirical grounds are necessary to describe the way language organizes categories. Being unable
to motivate, or even find a place for these relations, in the predominant theoretical framework, Lakoff
was compelled to go outside of the discipline of linguistics to find some sort of conceptual grounding
for his ideas. In the present framework, as I explained above, the iteration of the relation of priority
necessarily results in chaining and radial structures of categorization. In this way, the new theoretical
framework being proposed here logically explains these modes of categorization and explains the formerly anomalous facts of language which they describe. Thus, the powerful evidence marshaled by
Lakoff to prove that it is necessary to graft the concepts of radial and chaining categorization into the
theory of language can now be redirected in support of the more natural explanation offered by the
primitive predicate of priority.
1. Actually, what is commonly called a binary relation is not really a relation of two elements, but is rather a relation of
three elements. For example, linguists speak of the relation between (+animate) and (-animate) as being binary because
there are two possible marks. But those two marks are meaningless without being associated with the word “animate”
as they are here by linear juxtaposition and by brackets. Thus this kind of categorization is not really binary since it
needs three elements in order to function. Similarly, what is commonly called the binary number system is not purely
binary because it uses marks not only to encode the binary specification at each position in the sequence of marks, but
it also illicitly uses the order of marks to encode the category of each mark. That is, if you know that a certain mark is
(1), for example, that fact is uninterpretable unless you know the location of that mark. (101) is entirely different from
(011), not because the binary marks are different, but because the order of the marks is different. So each mark not only
conveys a binary choice, but it also conveys information about the address of each choice. Thus in addition to the
binary choice there is another choice, the address.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
199
The Pragmatics of Language
Let mention a few examples to show how priority works. In terms of the logic of priority, the
true is prior to the false and there is a categorical distinction between the true and the false. Strictly
speaking, there are no degrees of truth, yet there are degrees of falsehood. Beginning, for example,
with the sentence, “George Bush is president”, we would say in our ordinary reckoning that it is true,
whereas, “Bob Bush is president”, is false, and “Bob Smith is president” is even more false. Similarly, in ordinary reckoning we would say that “George Bush is a man” is true, “George Bush is a
woman” is false, and “George Bush is a potato” is even more false. In ordinary language we speak of
a “big lie”, a “white lie”, etc., but of “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth”, in keeping
with the unconscious recognition of the truth as one, but the false as many. In this way we can
account for the seemingly scalar character of truth and still account for the apparent oneness of truth.
The original/imitation relation is similar. There is only one original of Whistler's Mother, for
example, but there also a portrait of her. Of course, she is prior to the painting. And then there are
imitations of that portrait. These imitations are related to the original painting in the radial sense of
priority. Subsequently, as I understand it, some of these imitations became so valuable and famous
that they attained an independent identity of their own and then became the objects of imitation, giving us another layer of imitations. Some imitations, or even some fake imitations, would presumably
be more faithful to the original than others, and some might even be better than the original, but no
imitation could ever be more original than the original. One could impose a graduated scale on the
imitations by degree of imitation-hood, but originality would still be categorical, and so would imitation-hood.
Similarly, there is such a thing as a real horse. Then there are many kinds of non-real horses
which are unreal in different ways, such as the metaphorically real horses of the apocalypse, the proverbial horses which we do not want to change in mid stream, and fictional horses, such as Flicka.
And all of these unreal kinds of horses are somewhat more real than the unicorn, which is in turn
more real than a dragon. Yet in reality all unreality is equally unreal: it is no easier to ride on Flicka
than it is to ride on a dragon.
In his analysis of wild thought Levi-Strauss discussed the use of substitution in the framework
of sacrifice. He cited an example from the account of Nuer culture by Evans-Pritchard that is interesting to consider in the present context. Where the ritual sacrifice of an ox is required the Nuer substitute a cucumber, for obvious reasons, namely that a cucumber is of less value than an ox. And they
try to clothe this fraud in the trappings of social legitimacy by conspiratorial substitutive behavior.
When a cucumber is used as a sacrificial victim Nuer speak of it as an ox. In doing so they are asserting something rather more than that it takes the place of an ox. They do not, of course, say that cucumbers are oxen, and in
speaking of a particular cucumber as an ox in a sacrificial situation they are only indicating that it may be thought
of as an ox in that particular situation. And they act accordingly by performing the sacrificial rites as closely as
possible to what happens when the victim is an ox. The resemblance is conceptual, not perceptual. The 'is' rests
on qualitative analogy. And the expression is asymmetrical, a cucumber is an ox, but an ox is not a cucumber.
(Evans-Pritchard p. 128; in Levi-Strauss p. 224)
Note that the Nuer are not, contrary to the above, “asserting” anything. When they call a cucumber an
ox they are performing an act which posits a fictional world, a world in which representations take
priority over reality, a world in which a cucumber is an ox (A is X). And when they sacrifice the
cucumber as if it were an ox, they are performing another act in the same world of unreality.
One might suppose, as Levi-Strauss mentions, the cucumber and the ox being rather far apart
in most taxonomic systems, that the cucumber is related to the ox by a chain of substitutions;
200
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Medium of Substitution
a cucumber is worth an egg as a sacrificial victim, an egg a fish, a fish a hen, a hen a goat, a goat an ox. And this
gradation is oriented: a cucumber is sacrificed if there is no ox but the sacrifice of an ox for want of a cucumber
would be an absurdity. (224)
And, one can surmise from a general knowledge of the economy of sacrifice that the sacrifice of an ox
is a substitute for what is in the eyes of man the most valuable sacrifice, namely, the sacrifice of a
human being.
As a final example, in a more narrowly linguistic vein, consider the problem of how to categorize the vowels [a], [e], and [i]. For many years, they were thought of in terms of articulatory phonetics as a trinary distinction in degree of openness, with [a] most open, [i] least open, and [e]
intermediate in opening. However, well known phonological evidence has subsequently proven that
in categorizing these entities as phenomena in the realm of language, as opposed to in the realm of
physical sound, they must be conceptualized in terms of markedness such that [a] is considered to be
the first of all vowels, from which [i] is differentiated, and then [e] is subsequently differentiated
from [i]. Or, in other words, [a] is prior to [i] and [i] is prior to [e]. Thus what appears, incorrectly, to
be three degrees of openness, is actually a chain of two relations of priority. Where [e] appears on
physical grounds to be between [i] and [a], in terms of the internal logic of language, it is on the far
side of [i] from [a]. This is another example of etic vs. emic categorization.
We will let these few sketchy examples, together with the discussions of radial and chaining
categorization mentioned above in Lakoff (1987), suffice to illustrate the ability of this simpleminded
dual relation of priority to account for the subtle complexities of categorization found in language.
Hopefully we will be able to illustrate these complexities further in subsequent work.
Resuming the thread of our argument, recall that we have amplified our basic sentence representing the idea of substitution as follows.
Someone substitutes something² for something¹
With these diacritical marks we have disambiguated the two somethings and specified the nature of
their relationship as that of priority. There are still several areas that remain vague, most of which we
will not explore at all here. For example, although we have specified the nature of the relationship
between the two somethings, we have not investigated the evolution of their referents. Certainly children do not start out substituting cucumbers for oxen, so what do they start out substituting for what
and by what stages do they get to the point where they do substitute cucumbers for oxen.
Recall that we left another ambiguity dangling in some of the variants to our basic sentence,
namely, the ambiguity of the two “someones” which we saw in sentences such as
Someone holds something² forth to someone as something¹.
I want to suggest that the relation between the two “someones” is isomorphic with and is functionally
related to that of the two “somethings”, and thus, that it should be represented in the same way as in
the following.
Someone¹ holds something² forth to someone² as something¹
Someone¹ represents something² to someone² as something¹
Someone¹ misrepresents something² to someone² as something¹
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
201
The Pragmatics of Language
Someone¹ persuades someone² to accept something² as if it were something¹
By using the same indexical mark these representations implicitly claim that the relation between the
two pairs of nominals is the same. That is, it claims that someone¹ is to someone² as something¹ is to
something². Specifically it claims that someone¹ is prior to someone². This isomorphism then leads us
to the notion that there is a substitutive person in the same sense as there is a substitutive thing. However, this second persona must not be confused with the second person pronoun “you”. In an adult
transaction someone² might correspond to a “you”, or even a “him”, but there is a prior stage of
development which we want to get at here. Recall that we are trying to look at a very early point in
the development of the child's conceptual structure prior to language. At this stage the child does not
have the fully developed conceptual apparatus of the adult. We are at a point in the evolution of the
child's conceptualization of the world which is even prior to the emergence of the concept of a distinct other. The emergence in the child's logic of this someone² is the stage of development which
Freud designated as Narcissistic, by which name he meant to make clear that the other is not a real
other, but rather an imaginary other, a mere image of the first.
This second persona comes into existence through the duplicitous linguistic maneuver which
we have seen several times before: The child suspends his awareness of his original self and takes on
the role of this someone², who is conceptually necessary in order for the substitution to be valid.
There must be another world in which the substitution is valid and there must be a someone² in that
other world in whose eyes the substitution can be enjoyed, validated, and realized. In this way the
child alienates himself from his original self in order to identify with the victim of the fraudulent substitution. And this imaginary identity, this someone² is the conceptual prototype of the ego, or “I”, the
linguistically naive actor, who appears as the social actor in the representational social scene. And
someone¹ remains the prior one who fades into the background, the socially invisible person, the person behind the scenes off stage, the invisible unconscious one who writes the roles and directs from
off stage but never appears overtly in the scene. Someone¹ is the intrinsically nameless, the presupposed ancestral author of the speech act. Someone² is the one who is named and thereby entered into
the social register and invested with social legitimacy and burdened with the obligation to continue to
naively enact his social role as the dupe who believes in the representations of the other.
The Iconic Representation of Duplicity
While the exploration of the idea of substitution in terms of sentences has been helpful up to
this point, the logic of substitution has become so complex that algebraic representations are becoming more difficult to keep track of than they are worth. And what is more, they fail to represent certain
important principles which we have already observed. Therefore I will introduce at this point a geometrical representation of the logic of substitution, or, as we are justified in saying by this point, a
geometrical representation of the logic of the duplicity.
We will shift the focus of attention from the structure of sentences and words to look at these
phenomena in terms of the concept of “worlds” or equivalently, “world views”, “realities”, “universe
of discourse”, “frames of reference”, “points of view”, etc. For clarity of exposition, we will more or
less arbitrarily choose the term “universe of discourse”, which we will shorten to “universe”.
Once again we must take care to frame our discussion properly in terms of the basic duplicity
of language. There are two kinds of “universe”. There is prior universe, the one and only, which is
202
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Medium of Substitution
why it is called uni-verse, and then there are innumerable subsequent universes, which are a function
of substitution; the off stage universe, and the on stage universes; the real original natural universe
and imaginary imitative artificial universes. One must distinguish which sense is being used.
Looking at substitution in terms of the various universes which are involved one can formulate the following generalizations.
Universe¹ consists of someone¹ and something¹
Universe² consists of someone² and something²
Universe¹ is prior to universe²
Universe¹ contains universe²
Universe¹ dominates universe²
I assume the first two clauses need no explanation. The third clause follows from the fact that the substitute is subsequent to the original. But the fourth clause makes explicit for the first time a facet of
substitution which has been implicit throughout the discussion. The word “contains” is intended both
in the ordinary geometrical sense and also in the sense it is used in the argot of the con man to
describe the position of what they call variously pigeons, dupes, suckers, or, of particular relevance in
regard to linguistics, marks. They say, “The dupe is contained in the con.” There is a detailed exposition of the latter sense of “contain” in regard to frames of reference in Goffman's Frame Analysis (p.
83). Combining these two senses of “contain” allows us to represent the duplicity of representation in
the following simple form.
FIGURE 19.
The Elementary Structure of Duplicity
UNIVERSE2
Someone2 sees only something2
UNIVERSE1
Someone1 sees both something1 and something2
The idea here is that the awareness of someone² is limited to the boundaries of universe² such that he
is only aware of the object of substitution as something² and he is only aware of himself as someone2.
The awareness of someone¹ is similarly limited to universe¹, but since universe¹ contains universe²,
he is aware of both universes of discourse, their various entities and persons, and the relations
between them. As a result, someone¹ is able to transact with someone² in terms of either or both universes, which is to say that he has a much greater freedom of movement than someone², and thus
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
203
The Pragmatics of Language
someone¹ has in principle a distinct strategic advantage in his interactions with someone². This is one
of the several senses in which universe¹ dominates universe².
It should be said explicitly that this geometrical representation, like all representations, is somewhat
misleading, because the relation being represented is not really a geometrical relation. Or at least it is
not geometrical in the normal sense of Euclidian geometry. It is my contention that Euclidian geometry is the standard geometry because it is the geometry of universe², the geometry of symbolic or ideal
space, as distinct from the geometry of the relatively more real space of universe¹. In this figure we
are representing the geometry of duplicity in terms of the geometry of ideal space. I think it is a helpful representation, nevertheless, but one must be wary of the duplicity of all representations, including this one.
One of the important characteristics of in the geometry of duplicity is that the relations of
inside and outside are commutable. Which is which depends on where you start reckoning from, or in
other words, from where you consider your self to be, which is a function of identity. If I identify my
self with the role of someone2 in universe², then universe² is “here”, “this side”, “inside”, and, and
universe¹ is “there”, “that side”, and “outside”. If I take my self as a being of universe¹, then the orientation is reversed and universe¹ is “inside” and universe² is “outside”. However, in the geometry of
truth the relation is not commutable: universe¹ is prior, and the view that universe² is prior is wrong.
The space of duplicity is the space of language. Duplicity is to the word as the conventional
idea of space is to physical space. Truth is to language as the ground is to a building. The structure of
language consists of duplicities built upon the foundation of truth, and it tends by is very nature to be
drawn back down to the ground from which it arises.
Before we go on to explore the implications of this elementary structure of duplicity further,
in order to keep our argument oriented in relation to truth, we must pause to inject a parenthetical
framing of the present argument. For expository motives, I have permitted myself to indulge in a certain kind of duplicitous oversimplification of the situation. As our characterization of the duplicity of
language here is becoming more clear and more elaborate, this expository duplicity becomes progressively more difficult to hide.1 Having introduced the elementary structure of duplicity in Figure 1, we
are in a position to coherently describe this expository simplification and thus it would seem to be an
appropriate point in the development of the argument to explicitly acknowledge this duplicity and to
briefly describe it, so that the reader can bear it in mind as we proceed.
Note that I referred to the structure in Figure 19, “The Elementary Structure of Duplicity,” on
page 203, as elementary, intending it to be distinguished from the compound structure of duplicity. I
do not intend to explore this additional layer of compounded duplicity in this work. That will be the
purpose of the second work mentioned in the introduction, which will elaborate the implications of
this present argument in the logic of language. The purpose of the present work is to establish the
validity of the claim that language is duplicitous. The next work will explore that essential duplicity
further. Thus, after the following brief characterization of what I mean by compound duplicity, our
discussion will be allowed to fall back down into the more elementary universe of discourse where
we will indulge in the simplifying presumption that we need only deal with the elementary structure
of duplicity.
1. This seems to be a general law governing the sustainability of duplicity.
204
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Medium of Substitution
The additional complexity is this: In the structure of the duplicity of language there is a third
universe, which is the not-mentioned-universe. In the compound structure, there is a double duplicity,
or better, a duplicitous duplicity. There is a duplicity contained in a duplicity, the former being a
gross duplicity, the latter a subtle duplicity.
As Goffman, op cit, has pointed out, in the play of the con game an elementary duplicity is not
subtle enough to contain any but the most naive of dupes. To set up a con situation in such a way as to
contain the more sophisticated, there must be a duplicity inside of a duplicity – a relatively gross
duplicity contained inside of a more subtle duplicity. Thus, when the dupe breaks through the facade
of the gross duplicity, as he is intended to do, what he discovers is suffused with the feeling of revelation, which is the quality of truth, and so he feels that he has penetrated through the veil of the false
and that he has discovered the truth, when in fact he has broken through the gross duplicity only to be
caught in the web of the subtle duplicity.
In Figure 19 both universes are shown as bounded and contained. One might infer from this
that all universes are the same in being bound and contained in a prior universe, and thus that this logical relationship would entail an endlessly receding sequence of pairs of universes, an idea which has
been characterized as “The it-is-turtles-all-the-way-down theory of language”. This undesirable
implication is averted by the fact that the generalization is true of all universes of discourse except the
first. Since the prior universe contains but is not contained by the subsequent, the first universe has no
boundary and is not contained at all. (See the discussion of firstness and of the absolute first in
Peirce's discussion of his three categories.) Or, in other words, the very first universe is not of the
same logical type as subsequent universes: It is not a universe of discourse – it is just the universe, the
one and only, the uni-verse. Or, in other words, this difference between the first universe and all subsequent universes is the by now familiar difference between the natural universe and artificial universes, or between reality and the imaginary. The first universe is prior to and contains the universe of
discourse which we labeled Universe1, and is neither named nor represented nor marked in any way,
because whatever is marked or named or represented in any way is necessarily subsequent, because
that is the intrinsic nature of marks, names, and representations.
Thus in the case of the first first it would be inappropriate to represent it as being bound,
though that does not preventing it from functioning as a prior universe which overlooks and contains
a subsequent universe. Indeed one must suppose that every representation in every universe of discourse can be traced back through longer or shorter chains of binary relations of priority to that one
and only ultimate first. By this line of reasoning we must reject the idea that language is turtles all the
way down. And we must suppose, on the contrary, that there is an underlying natural background
with its fixed and immutable properties and that the structure of language, which is constructed on
that ground, must consist of materials which are ultimately derived from that ground and that the
structure of language must conform, even in its deviance, to the natural law of that underlying natural
universe.
For the reasons given, it is not possible to represent the first first because it is that for which something is substituted, hence prior to any substitution, hence prior to representation. But we can convey
some sense of its position in relation to the duplicity of language in terms of Figure 20.
Here I am taking the page upon which this figure is printed as the representation of the prior universe,
which contains universe¹, which contains universe². Thus the basic logic of language is that of a
duplicity contained in a prior unmentioned duplicity, which is to say, a twice divided universe, or a
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
205
The Pragmatics of Language
FIGURE 20.
The Compound Structure of Duplicity
UNIVERSE2
Someone2 sees only something2
UNIVERSE1
Someone1 sees both something1 and something2
THE REAL UNIVERSE
(THE PAPER ON WHICH THIS IS PRINTED)
triple universe. (In this triple universe we have the three logical categories underlying Peirce's theory
of signs.)
In ordinary discourse we would only focus on universe². The fact that it presupposes universe¹
would not be explicitly mentioned, though it may be alluded to indirectly. So the fact that universe¹ is
contained by the page is even farther from the normal focus of attention. Normally, the page is simply
taken for granted as part of what is thought of as the invisible and insignificant machinery of representation, and is not considered to be relevant to the point of the communication. But since we are
investigating the nature of representation, this background of the background becomes germane.
Here is another illustration. If the scene on stage is universe², then the scene which contains
the audience and the backstage, that is, the theater of the situation, is universe¹. Then there is still a
prior universe, outside of the theater, which contains universe¹, which is where one must locate himself in order to observe the observer in universe¹.
Just as the paper on which a text is written is not ordinarily in the awareness of the reader, so
the prior universe is generally not part of the conceptualization of the situation in language. But just
the same, the prior universe must necessarily be there as the background upon which the representation takes shape. There must be a prior from which the substitution deviates. And just as the letters on
this paper must be manifest in dark print, as an inverse function of the light background of the paper,
so are all representations of language marked as an inverse function of the prior background. Every
representation is embodied in and performs its function in its deviation from the standard of the prior.
And finally, just as a dream cannot be labeled a dream inside of the dream, the first cannot be
named in the universe of the second without violating both the nature of the first and the rules of
felicitous behavior in the second. Similarly, we do not ordinarily specify in our writing that it is paper
that we are writing on, nor in our speaking do we say that it is “I” who am speaking, nor do we say
206
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Medium of Substitution
that what I am saying is true. To name the first in the universe of the second creates the sort paradox
identified by Russell as an error of logical types. Nevertheless, in order to talk about the present phenomena, the prior ground of language, it is necessary to do so.
In order to affix an explicit label to this prior ground I have put the word “UNIVERSE” outside of the diagram and in a different typeface, intending this outsideness and difference in appearance to help to indicate that it is not part of the diagram but names the paper itself as the implicit prior
containing universe. But of course, every other feature of this diagram is also on the paper so this
kind of mark is not unambiguous, nor is it possible to mark the prior in an unambiguous way.
I have tried to make up for this intrinsic ambiguity by also representing the relations between
the three universes in terms of the numerical indices of their names: The universe marked “1” is prior
to the universe marked “2”, and the universe that is not marked with a numerical index at all is prior
to both. This mode of representation conveys the fact that the first universe is unmarked and that it is
not just prior in the same sense as the number 1 is prior to 2, but it is prior in a categorically different
sense, for it is not distinguished by being marked with a lower number, but rather it is distinguished
by the absence of any mark of relative priority and thus marked by the absence of a mark as being
prior to the entire realm of relative priority, i.e. prior to enumeration. Being thus unmarked conveys
the message that it does not come under the measure of marks of any kind, including enumeration,
because it is the prior ground from which the very concept of the mark arises.1
As important as it is, because it is so terribly confusing to talk about, we will allow our language to imperceptibly slide into the normal practice of ignoring this prior universe. However, we
must bear in mind that in doing so we are allowing ourselves to slip into the naive frame of mind with
the unavoidable consequence of a certain degree of distortion of the phenomena we are looking at.
However, in view of the fact that one cannot expect to swallow the whole thing in one bite, a limited
degree of distortion can be tolerated as long this simplified point of view is framed, as we have done,
as an expository distortion.
Why Substitute?
Now that we have a conceptual frame of reference which we can use to sort out the duplicities
of language, we can return to the infantile roots of language to take up a very important question
which I have ignored thus far, namely, the question of why substitute. If there is a commonly
accepted falsehood at the heart of language, how do people independently come to believe the same
thing, and why did they believe it in the first place, and why do they persist in believing in it?
In general we would assume that it is not possible for many people to come to believe the
same thing independently, unless it were true. But in the present case, the claim I am making is that
not only many people, but virtually all people come to hold the same false belief. And moreover, I am
claiming that it is a false belief that causes a great deal of pain and suffering. Therefore, I am claiming
1. This is the point of the following from the Diamond Sutra: “Wherever there is a possession of marks, there is fraud,
wherever there is no-possession of no-marks there is no fraud. Hence the Tathagata is to be seen from no-marks as
marks.” (Conze, p. 28)
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
207
The Pragmatics of Language
that all people hold a belief that is contrary to their own self interest. Why would anyone adopt a view
of the world that is self-defeating, let alone everyone? And why would they persist in holding so tenaciously to such a disastrous belief? These are the very basic questions that need some sort of explanation. In the following we will address these questions by trying to understand the primitive
motivations underlying the typical child's misguided policy decisions.
Before we address this question, I think it is necessary to frame our discussion with the following qualifications. Technically speaking, the question of why is extraneous to the theory of language, which is our immediate concern. If language is built upon the foundation of the policy of
substitution, then to try to delve beneath that policy is to go beyond linguistics. A proposed theory of
language must be judged in the framework of linguistics by the standard of explanatory adequacy in
terms of empirical evidence from language. The relevant theoretical question is “Does the theory
work?”, not “Why is it that way?” Therefore the validity of the explanations I offer here should have
no weight in the judgment of the validity of my proposal as a theory of language.
I am not suggesting that our thinking about language must necessarily be confined to the
boundaries of language, for I think it is useful in trying to understand the formal properties of substitution to understand something of the how and why of substitution. However, as we proceed beyond
linguistics we must bear in mind that we enter a different conceptual realm, which can be expected to
require different methods of investigation and to have different standards of evidence, etc.
It should also be born in mind that when we venture below language into the deepest roots of
human nature, we enter a realm where it is a matter of ancient and acrimonious dispute just who the
proper authorities really are. Philosophy claims this territory in the names of metaphysics, ontology,
epistemology, and ethics. Religion claims it in the names of God, Moses, Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, etc. Science claims it in terms of physiology, physics, psychology, etc. Therefore, when we
enter this realm we must tread lightly, we must be wary, and we must not expect more than the market can bear in the way of clarity of thought and validity of authority.
In consideration of the treacherous footing, my intention is to survey the factors underlying
substitution in the broadest outlines and to suggest lines of further investigation that one could pursue
in search of more detail if one were so inclined. This is not the place where we intend to ground the
force of our argument so we do not need to be concerned about the ultimate solidity of any of these
factors. Our purpose in this exploration of the pre-linguistic dimensions of human nature is to gain
some insight into the background of the basic principle that language is primarily a substitutive mode
of behavior, to gain some insight into the force, direction, and dynamic, of substitution and to provide
some suggestive answers to the question of why.
We have already seen that the semantic precursor to substitution is the differential assessment
of value. And what motivates the actual substitution is, of course, a desire for that which is judged to
be more valuable. This in turn implies that the one who contemplates the substitution must believe
that he has something which is of less value than something which he does not have, and that he can
replace what he has with something which is of greater value.
Now, if we were talking about apples and oranges, for example, this desire for that which is
more valuable could be satisfied in a relatively unproblematic way by means of the process of
exchange. Suppose one person has lots of apples but no oranges, and suppose another person has lots
of oranges but no apples. Each might devalue what he has simply because he has too much of it,
though it is still intrinsically valuable as food, and each might desire to eat some of what the other had
208
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Medium of Substitution
just for variety. In such a situation, each could satisfy both his own desire and the desire of the other
by exchanging some of what he has for some of what he does not have. Each gets something of
greater value in exchange for something that is of less value. This is, of course, the classical line of
reasoning which has been followed in thinking about exchange from Adam (Smith) on down, and it is
incorrectly taken as the basic dynamic which governs all exchange. What we have been calling substitution is not the same thing as exchange in this sense.
The problem with this line of thought is that it assumes incorrectly that the fundamental
dynamics of exchange can be conceptualized in terms of a hypothetical example of a trivial exchange
of concrete objects, such as apples and oranges. In the deeper, more primitive dimensions of
exchange we encounter a radically different scenario and so we must take care, especially as forewarned in the present context, to desist from substituting the superficial and subsequent for the deep
and prior.
What is the difference between superficial and deep exchange? This is yet another instance of
the familiar natural vs. artificial distinction: exchange1 and exchange2. First, at the deepest conceptual level, at the level of the infant beginning to come to grips with his world, it would be wrong to
assume that he has the conceptual machinery to accommodate the three points of view needed to juggle differential evaluations in the classical manner (that of the observer whose point of view contains
the points of view of the owners of the apples and oranges). At the beginning an infant is not involved
in any sort of exchange relationship in the conventional sense, precisely because he has not developed the conceptual sophistication yet. At the beginning, the infant neither gives, nor receives. Nor
does he trade, or buy, or steal. He has not eaten of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and
evil yet. It would be a serious error for us to explore the roots of exchange in terms of examples
which assume this conventional conceptual machinery, because it is the origin of this machinery
which we are trying to understand.
Second, even if we assumed that the child had this conceptual machinery available, we would
run into other problems, because primitive exchange deals with primitive values, and absolutely
primitive values do not vary as a function difference in point of view. Thus while we can grant that
people might legitimately disagree about the value of apples and oranges, we cannot hope to develop
a coherent understanding of anything on the premise that such fundamental things as the laws of
nature, the value of one's being, the value of truth, etc., are equally a function of accidental differences of point of view. For this reason, it is possible for there to be a reasonable, just, and equitable
exchange of apples and oranges, any yet an exchange of the most primitive values would be necessarily fraudulent. For what can truth be equitably exchanged? For what can one's own being be
exchanged? What kind of laws can be exchanged for the laws of nature? While the question of what
conceptual machinery a child comes equipped with might be debated, this second problem is fatal to
the belief that one can get at the concept of exchange more reliably by looking at trivial concrete
examples of exchange. The market value of apples is different in kind from the intrinsic value of
truth. Truth cannot be exchanged in any sense whatsoever. Thus the question of value and motivation
do not arise at all. If these primitive phenomena cannot be exchanged at all, then obviously the whole
realm of exchange, at least in regard to basic values, must be duplicitous, contradictory, and unreal
from the point of view of nature.
We can approach the inherent contradiction in exchange from another point of view. Consider
the following line of reasoning. First, we have said that something¹ is prior to something², from which
it follows that it must be more valuable. If we were speaking about truth, for example, we would say
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
209
The Pragmatics of Language
that the truth is more valuable than the false. Second, in order for there to be a motive to exchange,
something² must be considered to be more valuable than something¹. Between these two, there is
already a contradiction, but there is more. Third, it is inherent in the nature of exchange, as recognized in the law of contracts, for an exchange to be a legitimate exchange, as distinct from one or
another type of fraud, it must be equitable. In contract law, unless each party receives a more or less
equivalent value, an agreement to exchange does not constitute a contract. And in practice, if one
party thought he was getting less and giving more, he would not agree to the exchange. Thus, barring
ignorance, exchange must necessarily be equitable. But, of course, it is the point of this essay that it is
precisely the play of ignorance that is work in the logic of exchange.
Instead of trying to sort out the multiplicity of duplicitous ignorances and contradictions
which obtain among these three principles of exchange, let me try to convey a sense of the situation
in terms of an example. This tangle of duplicities is a frequent theme in literature. Take the story of
Aladdin and the magic lamp, which features the following offer of exchange:
New lamps for old.
Someone1 uses this inherently attractive offer as a device to try to defraud someone2. In this story
Aladdin is someone2, the prospective victim, and the bad guy is someone1. Someone1 hopes to persuade someone2 to exchange his old, but magic lamp, for a new, but otherwise perfectly ordinary one.
He designs his ploy on the basis of the assumption that all people have a general desire for gain. And
he hopes also that Aladdin does not know that the lamp he has is uniquely valuable. And he hopes
that Aladdin subscribes uncritically to the principle that the class of things called “lamp” is commutable. And he hopes that Aladdin subscribes to the common view that the new is better in principle
than the old. And, he hopes Aladdin is gullible enough not to recognize the blatant contradiction in
the offer, for it could not be as appealing as it appears to be unless it were to the disadvantage of the
offerer, and if it were disadvantageous to the offerer he would not make the offer. Thus the very fact
that the offer of exchange is so appealing should make one suspicious. So at bottom such an offer of
exchange is predicated on the assumption that Aladdin’s desire for gain will dominate his perception
of reality.
To put it in general terms, deep exchange is predicated on the assumption that the suckers’
desire will overcome his knowledge of reality: his desire to be a someone2, a someone who gains
something, will dominate his prior knowledge that he is really someone1, a someone who already has
the magic lamp and only stands to loose from the exchange. So there are two conflicting conceptualizations of the situation inherent in the logic of deep exchange as represented in Figure 21
FIGURE 21.
Aladdin’s Substitutive Exchange
NEW LAMPS FOR OLD LAMPS
MAGIC LAMPS FOR ORDINARY LAMPS
210
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Medium of Substitution
Because of this inherent contradiction in the logic of exchange, the desire to gain through
exchange thrusts one into a fractured and convoluted conceptual space. It is impossible to proceed
along this path without suffering fragmentation and distortion of one's conceptualization of the situation. Nevertheless, the differential of desire drives and/or lures us on.
Now that we have an understanding of the contradictory logic of exchange, let us consider the
kind of differential evaluation that might motivate the child to adopt the policy of exchange in regard
to language, in spite of the fact that it is an intrinsically duplicitous and maladaptive mode of functioning. In broad terms we can suppose that the infant is dissatisfied with the natural state things and
that this motivates him to seek some better state of affairs. This dissatisfaction instills a desire for
something else, and this desire for something else leads to the conception of something² in the imaginary world of his desires, which eventually is born in the symbolic realm of language. This kind of
thought is what we ordinarily call wishful thinking: In the infants mind, the world he wishes for is
brought into being in his imagination. In this way, his wishes are at least satisfied in his imagination,
which he considers to be better than not having them at all. This, I believe, is the faulty reasoning
which underlies and motivates the infant to adopt the false world view of Universe2 which leads to
the policy of substitution. Reducing this chain of thought to the simpleminded thinking of the sort an
infant might use, we get the following as the essence of his world view.
Universe1 is bad and universe2 is good.
Or in other words,
Nature is bad and language is good.
From this point of view, the malleability of images and representations is considered to be more valuable than the uncompromising manifestations of brute nature. And it is this relation of differential
value which governs the child's decision to pursue the elaboration of the representational version of
reality which evolves eventually into the adult version of language with which we are familiar. If we
were to represent this world view in terms of our paradigm of substitution, it would look like this.
FIGURE 22.
The Naive World-View
THIS UNIVERSE IS GOOD
THIS UNIVERSE IS BAD
This is the naive world-view that constitutes the foundation of language. This is the world-view
which motivates the infant to invest his being in the imaginary mode of substitutive behavior which
evolves into language as we know it. This is the paradoxical logic which constitutes the prototypical
entity of language and which thus governs the structure and use of language. And it governs the way
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
211
The Pragmatics of Language
most people think about language. This is the universal false folk theory of language which I spoke of
in the introduction.
This world-view is false, of course, because nature is prior to language. As we have pointed
out, language is our second nature. From this, by the principle that the prior is more valuable, it follows that nature is good and language is not so good. We have seen that duplicity is the very essence
of language. Language has no substance in itself, for every entity which language appropriates to uses
as a representation is by its own nature something else. That is to say that every A that is used to represent an X, is already an A by its nature. Thus when it is used to represent something else, it is being
misused. In sum, we can say that in relation to nature, language is precisely unnatural. The natural
world view which is prior to that of language can be represented as inFigure 23.
FIGURE 23.
The Right World-View
THIS UNIVERSE IS BAD
THIS UNIVERSE IS GOOD
To put this in other words, nature is prior to language, nature contains language, and nature dominates
language.
Now we have a clear and simple idea of the false theory of language which the child adopts.
As the naivete of his position, our position, the normal human position, becomes more and more
clear, the demand for an explanation becomes correspondingly more and more imperative.
We can reply to the demand for an explanation in part in the following way. That there is
some strange primeval factor which motivates people to adopt erroneous beliefs and foolish policies
can hardly be doubted by anyone with the slightest degree of objectivity. If there is any single characteristic, other than language, which most distinctively characterizes human nature, it the proclivity of
humans to hold erroneous beliefs and enact foolish self-destructive policies. This unfortunate proclivity has been the object of attention in literature, art, and science, and religion throughout history.
Every significant work or person throughout history in every culture gives unvarying testimony that
there is such a perverse seed in human nature.
But exactly what that primeval factor might be is another question. Innumerable explanations
have been given, but they are almost without exception totally useless. Some attribute the problems to
perverse gods or to fate, which amounts to the same thing. Some attribute the problem to a supposed
intrinsic self destructiveness in human nature - instinctive aggression, for example. Freud tried to
explain it by hypothecating an instinctive death instinct which he supposed to be of the same ontological order as the life instinct and in conflict with the life instinct. The Bible attributes it to Adam, who
attributed it to Eve, who attributed it to the serpent. None of these or any other explanation I have
seen fits with the argument that I have developed here nor furthers our understanding of the fundamental cause for this peculiar characteristic of human beings. With one exception.
212
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Language as Medium of Substitution
I have encountered one proposal which makes sense to me and which dovetails with the argument being developed here very nicely. The French psychoanalyst, Jacques Lacan, posited a very
early stage in the development of the child's world view which he called the “mirror stage”, which
refers to the episode in which the child identifies with his spectral image, which is the beginning of
the Narcissistic frame of mind. This Narcissistic image is the someone² which we saw above in the
logic of substitution. In Lacan’s discussion of this stage of development he suggests that the force
which drives the infant to this alienated identification, the force which motivates him to adopt an
incorrect world view, is a function of the physiological prematurely of human infants. The neurological apparatus of new-born human infants is not fully developed, so it does not work very well, so the
infant’s perception of the world is not merely incoherent, but according to Lacan’s reconstruction, it
is utterly chaotic, violent, spastic, explosive. From the infant’s point of view the world is chaotic,
frightening, unpleasant. This is why the infant adopts the belief that the original state of things, the
natural state of things is bad. It is bad - for him. And it is this evaluation of his situation which motivates him to seek something else, something more coherent, something that calms the chaos, something that satisfies. Because for the truth does not satisfy.
At some point, in Lacan’s reconstruction of the evolution of the infant’s world-view, the
infant becomes aware of the coherence of the visual image of that other who comes to be associated
with his attainment of satisfaction. It is the first sign of coherence in the infants world and the appearance of wholeness and solidity appeals to his desire to escape from the chaos of his intrinsic nature.
He cannot escape in reality, so he is pushed by the unpleasantness of his nature and pulled by the
apparent satisfaction of the image to seek to escape by a kind of self deception in which he contrives
to believe that what he sees is who he is. He identifies with the image of the one who grants satisfaction and thus comes to believe that nature is bad and the image of satisfaction is good. On this basis
he proceeds to construct his world-view in the image of the primary other. And in doing so he has
violated the first and the second of the Ten Commandments, and he suffers the consequences.
In this way the infant is set on a path of development which will lead him to invest himself in
more and more elaborate visions of imaginary coherence and competence. And at the next stage, in
order to reinforce this imaginary coherence, he will have to adopt symbolic representations and structures, and eventually he will come to the stage where he is in an all encompassing symbolic world
view, which he hopes will leave no room for the forces of chaos and fragmentation to intrude. Unfortunately, or fortunately, this beautiful structure is merely images and symbols. And not only is it
unreal, and thus unsuccessful in its intent, but ironically it perpetuates the very chaos and fragmentation and dissatisfaction which it was devised to escape from.
To summarize, the world view underlying and driving the substitutive mode of behavior, i.e.
language, believes that nature is bad and language is good. Every normal child is driven to hold this
world view because in the beginning of his life, in his state of physiological immaturity, he perceives
the world as chaotic and unpleasant, i.e. bad. In fact, for him it is bad. This motivates him to escape
from the unpleasantness of his reality, which he cannot do in reality. However, he hits upon the expedient of imaginary and symbolic escape, which seems to be better than nothing, so he decides to do
what he can do to better his situation even if it is only imaginary, for he feels that it is better to do
something than to do nothing, and since that it all he can do, he does it rather than wait. In his immature and incompetent state it is perhaps not a bad way of dealing with his situation.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
213
The Pragmatics of Language
However, as he matures it becomes progressively more and more inappropriate and more and
more incorrect. By the time he becomes an adult, he has become biologically mature, and thus a
competent independent being, and thus it is just plan wrong. This infantile theory of language and
nature, and his infantile theory of himself, perpetuates his infantile dependence and incompetence far
beyond its biological necessity. It inhibits his development and his ability to attain satisfaction, which
perpetuates his dissatisfaction, which perpetuates an expanding cycle of imaginary escape in the form
of substitution, with progressively greater distortion, and progressively greater violence against himself and his social and physical environment. The inappropriate retention of this infantile world view
is the root error which sustains and governs both of the most distinctive characteristics of human
nature. One of these is, of course, language. The other is the characteristic human proclivity to error,
in regard to which we have this saying.
TO ERR IS HUMAN
214
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
CHAPTER 5
A Survey of the Duplicities of
Language
In this chapter we will survey a wide variety of different kinds of linguistic phenomena in
order to illustrate the depth and variety of the duplicity of language, in order to flesh out our understanding of the duplicity of language, and in order to marshal an array of evidence in support of the
claim that language is intrinsically duplicitous.
A couple of procedural matters should be mentioned before we begin our survey. First, the
whole of Chapter 6 will be devoted to a study of the duplicity of the phonology of language, so I will
only touch upon a few extraordinary phonological phenomena in this chapter. Second, this is
intended to be a survey, not a systematic analysis, so it is intended to be exemplary rather than
exhaustive. And, the categories in terms of which I discuss the various different kinds of duplicity
have been chosen as a matter of expository convenience. So from a theoretical point of view, these
categories are sometimes incoherent, overlapping, etc. Also, as an expository principle I will begin
with relatively superficial kinds of duplicity, which are commonly recognized as being duplicitous
even by the ordinary person, and move down into deeper levels of language, of which the ordinary
person would normally be unaware, and which linguists consider to be the core of language.
Two Superficial Examples of the Duplicity of Language
With these preliminaries out of the way, I will begin by discussion two superficial, and therefore, commonly recognized types of duplicity.
Irony
As our first example, let us consider the following dialogue.
On the Duplicity of Language (Draft of 10/14/99)
215
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
Bob
Jim
Senator Blowhard said that we could rely on receiving social
security benefits when we retire.
Oh well, if he said so you can bank on it, because everyone
knows that Senators always tell the truth.
Jim is speaking ironically here, which is to say that he means the opposite of what he said. At the literal level he said, “Senators always tell the truth” but he really intended to convey the sentence “Senators do not always tell the truth.” Now a simpleminded person, such as a child or an obsessively
literal person, might naively take what Jim said at face value and think that he actually believed that
Senators always tell the truth. However, to correctly understand his intent one must not take it at face
value. One must realize that this speech act is to be taken in the frame of play. One must realize that
this is a play on the literal meaning. In other words, one cannot grasp the sense of this speech act if
one insist that it be either true or false, because that fact of the matter is that it is both true and false,
which is to say that it is duplicitous. And what is more the duplicity of this speech act is integral to its
force: this speech act derives its pragmatic force and its rhetorical quality from the particular way in
which it plays upon the contradictoriness of the two levels of meaningfulness. Thus one cannot
understand this ordinary kind of speech act, nor appreciate the force of the speech act, unless one
appreciates its duplicity. We can represent the duplicity of this speech act, and duplicity in general, as
in Figure 24.t
FIGURE 24.
The Duplicity of Irony
“Senators always tell the truth” means
Senators do not always tell the truth
Level 2 - Irony
“Senators always tell the truth” means
Senators always tell the truth
Level 1 - A Literal Speech Act
Polite Request
Next let us consider an ordinary request such as in the following dialogue.
Bob
Jim
216
Do you have a watch?
It is almost three o’clock.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
An Example of Duplicity Explained in Detail
In order to understand this dialogue we have to realize that there are two layers of meaning in Bob’s
question. At the literal level, Bob is asking a yes-no question as to whether Jim has a watch or not. If
Jim had taken Bob’s question at this literal level, he would have replied as follows.
Bob
Jim
Do you have a watch?
Yes.
But the fact that he replied in the way he did is evidence that he interpreted Bob’s question in a totally
different way. Jim took Bob’s question as a way of indirectly, and thus politely, asking Jim to tell him
the time. We can represent this type of duplicity, polite duplicity, as in Figure 25.
FIGURE 25.
The Duplicity of Polite Indirectness
“Do you have a watch?” means
Please, tell me the time.
Level 2 - Polite Indirectness
“Do you have a watch?” means
Do you have a watch.
Level 1 - A Literal Speech Act
Here again if one insists that the question either means what it appears to mean on the face of it or it
does not mean anything at all, then one would be unable to grasp what is going on here. The fact is
that this sentence both means what it appears to mean and it means something else. And so one can
only grasp the sense of this dialogue if one understands it duplicitously, for that is how it means what
it means.
Of course, these are only examples of superficial linguistic phenomena, but that is why they
are able to serve as introductory examples. And yet in as much as everything in language has the
same duplicitous character, these trivial examples can serve as well as anything else to illustrate the
logic of duplicity. We will explore some of the deeper aspects of the duplicity of language as our discussion proceeds, but these examples illustrate and exemplify the logic of the duplicity of language.
An Example of Duplicity Explained in Detail
I think it would be helpful now to look at an example in more depth and detail in order to
show how duplicity works. I have chosen to examine an example from the system of polite speech, a
system which is commonly recognized as being duplicitous, so much so that we even have a conventional term in ordinary English (as do many other languages) to designate, and exonerate, this partic-
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
217
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
ular species of duplicity, viz. “little white lies.” I will look at the greeting ceremony in standard
English.
In English when we meet someone for the first time we are supposed to say, “I am pleased to
meet you”, (or some semantically equivalent variant such as “I am glad to meet you”). And we are
supposed to say this whether we are really pleased or not. And because we are obliged to say this
whether it is true or not, it is simply a ritualistic formula, an empty formal act, a hollow pretense. Let
me put it in other terms: this speech act is the verbal equivalent of a mask which we are obliged to display momentarily by way of enacting the meeting ceremony. And like a mask, this ceremonial speech
act does not manifest and convey our true feelings because it is displayed for the performance of a
ceremonial function, and the same display cannot perform both as a manifestation of our personal
feelings and as a ceremonial act at the same time. So there are two levels of things here: the level of
the mask and the level of our real face. Second, the mask of the face is obviously derived from the
face. And third, there is a falseness here in that the mask looks like a face, but it is not a face. And
these are the three characteristics which constitute duplicity - doubleness and derivativeness and
falseness. This is the sense in which this speech act of greeting is duplicitous.
In reply to this duplicitous display the other party is obliged to reply in kind, “The pleasure is
all mine”, (or some semantically equivalent variant) whether he actually feels any pleasure or not.
And from this point the two parties may go on to exchange various subsequent duplicities, depending
on the situation, such as “Where are you from?”, “What do you do?”, “The weather is beautiful
today?”, “How about those Bears?”, etc. But in the prescribed universe of discourse this initial
exchange of duplicities is the minimal form of the greeting ceremony. Thus in the conventionally prescribed universe of discourse, in the ideal world, relationships are framed from the very beginning by
the exchange of duplicities.
Then on subsequent occasions, when we encounter that same person again, we are obliged to
say, “Hello. How are you?”, even if we do not care how he is. And he is obliged to answer in kind, “I
am just fine, thanks.”, even if he is not fine. Thus all of our subsequent meetings in the conventional
universe of discourse are framed by the exchange of duplicities.
And on the basis of these observations about the beginnings of relationships one can see that
the general implication of the fact that language is inherently duplicitous is this: to the extent that our
relationships are governed by convention, they will be framed by and consist entirely of the exchange
of duplicities.
Indeed, in the case of these speech acts of ceremonial greeting the presumption of duplicity is
so powerful that it is very difficult to overcome the presumption. So, if we greet someone whom we
genuinely care about in a formal situation, and if we really want to know how they are, we sometimes
have to go to great lengths to overcome the conventional presumption that such greetings are duplicitous.
In other words, in the context of the greeting ceremony the sentence “How are you?” has been
usurped by its ceremonial function to the extent that it is precluded from being used to mean “How
are you?”1 Likewise, “I am fine” is precluded from being used in the context of the greeting ceremony to mean “I am fine.” So if we really want to find out how the other party is in the context of a
greeting ceremony, we must overcome the normal presumption that the question “How are you?” is
duplicitous by adding something abnormal to convey our counterconventional sincerity. For example,
1. By the way this is an example of language colonization discussed in “Language, Wild Language and the Gap” beginning on page 109.
218
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
An Example of Duplicity Explained in Detail
we might add an extra word, as in “How are you, really?”, together with an exaggerated posture of
concern, exaggerated facial expression, and/or exaggerated voice qualities, etc. But unfortunately
such abnormal and exaggerated expressions are themselves interpretable as part of the duplicitous
pretense in accord with conventional standards, so the message of counterconventional sincerity
might not get through the filter of the conventional presumption of duplicity.
One sometimes sees the conflict between the normative presumption of duplicity and the genuine desire to express solicitude being played out in a dialogue such as the following.
Bob
How are you?
Jim
Just fine, thanks. And you?
Bob
No. I mean, how are you, really?
Jim
Oh, I'm fine.
Bob
No, I really mean, how have you been doing?
Jim
Well, I have been sick lately, my wife left me, and I lost my job.
And one sometimes sees the converse.
Bob
How are you?
Jim
I have been sick lately, my wife left me, and I lost my job.
Bob
(Probably to himself.) Who asked for your life history.
Such deviations from the norm as these clearly demonstrate that the speech acts of greeting are not
only duplicitous, but they are framed by a very powerful presumption of duplicity as well.
Now let us take one of these speech acts, “How are you?”, as an example that we can use to
see how its duplicity works. When we try to understand how this speech act works, it is obvious that
we must take its doubleness and its falsity into account. We have seen that it is false in the sense that
it is an insincere pretense, but it would be an error to think of it as simply being insincere, because it
is at the same time also sincere, or at least it can be sincere. This paradox is to be sorted out thus:
while this speech act is insincere as an expression of solicitude, it is, or can be sincere as a greeting.
Thus it is an error to apply the law of the excluded middle in trying to understand this speech act (or,
I am claiming, any speech act), because it is both sincere and insincere.
Similarly paradoxical, as we have seen in the greeting ceremony the sentence, “How are
you?” does not mean “How are you?” And yet it cannot mean anything other than “How are you?”
Thus in the greeting ceremony the sentence, “How are you?” does mean “How are you?” and at the
same time it does not mean “How are you?”
Similarly, in some greeting dialogues there are overt formal elements which cannot be
accounted for except by reference to the duplicity of these speech acts. For example, how could one
make sense of either of the dialogues above except in the framework of duplicity, for they both turn
on the fact that the initial “How are you?” can be taken in either of two senses. Consider in this regard
the second turn of Bob above: “No. I mean, how are you, really?” What does “No” do here? It negates
the presumption of pretense which conventionally frames the greeting ceremony. It means “No, you
misunderstand me. This is not merely a pretense of solicitude”. And what work does “really” do? It
refers to the conflict between the pretense of solicitude and the expression of real feelings of solicitude and it asserts that the speaker intends the sentence to be take as real, rather than mere pretense.
So in order to make sense of these various aspects of the sentence “How are you?” as it is used
in the greeting ceremony, one must suspend the law of the excluded middle, and one must evaluate it
in terms of a framework of duplicitous logic on two simultaneous levels of meaningfulness, two lev-
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
219
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
els of illocutionary force, etc. Figure 26 on page 220 is a visual representation of the duplicitous logic
of this example.
FIGURE 26.
The Duplicity of the Greeting Ceremony
“How are you?” = A pretense of solicitous inquiry
Level 2 - A Greeting
“How are you?” = A solicitous inquiry
Level 1 - A Sincere Speech Act
We will explain the logic of this representation in more detail as our discussion unfolds, but at
this point I would like to point out the most fundamental fact about the logic of duplicity, which is
that the two facets of duplicity are not symmetrically related, like two brothers, but rather are asymmetrically related, like mother and child. This relation of priority is the very crux of the logic of
duplicity.
The relation of priority is manifest in our example in the fact that the form, “How are you?”,
as a literal sentence is conceptually and historically prior to its being used as a greeting. So the literal
sense constitutes the very material1 from which the subsequent usage derives. This is the sense in
which use of the sentence, “How are you?”, as a greeting is a secondary level of usage. The image of
duplicity as in Figure 26 is intended to iconically represent the fact that Level 1 is prior to Level 2,
that Level 1 is the ground from which Level 2 arises, and that Level 1 is the very material of which
Level 2 consists. This is the image of the paradigm of duplicity.
Now it is important to realize that the duplicity of this ceremonial speech act is not incidental.
As we all know, some elements of language are more or less incidental. For example, the fact that the
second person pronoun, “you”, begins with the letter “y” is incidental. The second person pronoun
could just as well begin with “t”, as it does in French and as it did in Old English. So one might suppose that the duplicity of the greeting ceremony is incidental, but it is not. Duplicity is integral to the
semantic value and to the pragmatic dynamic of this speech act. To see how this is so, let us examine
this greeting a little further.
The key to understanding the value of the sentence “How are you?” when used as a greeting is
to observe that even though it is used in the greeting ceremony to mean something other than what it
appears to mean, it is used to mean that something other precisely because of what it appears to mean.
Putting this rather confusing fact in terms of a mask, if we want to make a mask of a smiling face, we
have to make it look like a smiling face. In our example we have a sentence that looks like an expression of solicitude, and that is precisely what qualifies that sentence to be used as a means to display an
1. Note that the word “material” comes from Latin “mater” meaning “mother”.
220
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
An Example of Duplicity Explained in Detail
expression of solicitude. Thus this sentence, “How are you?”, can be displayed as a greeting, i.e., used
as a mask of solicitude, because it is an expression of solicitude.
Let me explain the connection between the expression of solicitude and a greeting ceremony.
Although greetings vary from language to language, there are general underlying principles which
govern greetings in all languages. In other words, languages do not just take any arbitrary random
sentence and use it for a greeting, such as “My dog is wet” or “The earth was formed billions of years
ago”. There is a reason why expressions of solicitude are appropriate as greetings.
We must step back from this particular example momentarily and look at the underlying
dynamic of greeting ceremonies from a general, language universal perspective. Looked at from this
broad perspective, one can see that at bottom the greeting ceremony is a symbolic reenactment of the
role of mother. The role of mother, apart from giving birth, is to give the child food, to keep it warm
and safe, and generally to take care of it. Therefore, in order to enact the role of mother, one acts nurturing and solicitous. One can give things or offer to give things, such as food, drink, blessings, good
wishes, etc., or one can offer to be of service in a more general sense.
For example, in some cultures, e.g. Japanese, people bow in greeting as a token of subservience. It was not too long ago in English culture that people bowed in greeting, and said, “Your servant”, which was an elliptical form of “I am your servant”, which is an offer to serve, to take care of
the other. In some languages, e.g. Spanish “Buenos dias”, as in English, one can greet someone by
conferring upon them a benefactive wish for them to have a “Good day”. In Thai “Sawatdi kap”, one
confers good fortune. In some languages one invokes the blessing of God. In some languages one can
greet someone by offering to give them a cup of tea, even if it would be inappropriate or impossible to
actually do so. In some languages one bestows the wish to have many children. And in modern colloquial English we greet by offering an expression of solicitude as to the other's well being.
Thus the form, “How are you?”, functions as an element of the English greeting ceremony by
virtue of the fact that it is an expression of solicitude. And one who says, “How are you?”, is enacting
the role which is prototypically that of mother. By saying, “How are you?”, the speaker is saying by
implication “I am interested in your well being. I want you to be well. I want to take care of you.” It is
via these relational implications that are implicitly conveyed by saying, “How are you?”, that this
form functions as a greeting.
For our purposes, the pivotal point is that this duplicity is not simply an incidental misuse of
the sentence in question. The point is that the duplicity of the speech act is not extrinsic to the speech
act, but rather it is the very mechanism by which the speech act enacts greeting. The very essence of
the greeting is the performance of an act of solicitude. The point is that as a greeting it is not solicitude, but it is the performance of an act of solicitude, which uses the form which a genuine expression
of solicitude would use. The duplicity of the act of greeting is the essential dynamic of the act of
greeting.
Therefore, this greeting is an expression of solicitude, and it is not. It is sincere, and it is not. It
is a misuse of the sentence “How are you?”, and it is not. It is misleading and it is not. It is, in short,
duplicitous. And consequently unless one tries to sort out its many paradoxical facets of this speech
act in the framework of the two-layered logic of duplicity, one will become hopelessly confused, and
entangled, and disoriented. Thus this example illustrates my assertion that one cannot possibly make
sense of any element of language except by realizing that language is essentially duplicitous, and by
looking at language in the framework of the logic of duplicity.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
221
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
An Analysis of the Duplicity of the Word “Duplicity”
Now that we have seen down into the depths of duplicity, we can undertake an analysis of the
duplicity of the word “duplicity”. This will make it clear why the word “duplicity” is singularly
appropriate to serve as the paradigmatic focal point of a theory of language. To begin with the word
“duplicity” is appropriate because it refers to the duplicitous logical knot of which the fabric of language consists. But what is more, the word “duplicity” not only refers to duplicity, as the word
“duck” refers to a duck, but unlike the word “duck”, the word “duplicity” is itself an instance of that
which it refers to. That is, the word “duplicity” is a duplicity, whereas the word “duck” is not a duck.
Thus the word “duplicity” exemplifies that to which it refers. I will explain this in this section. Furthermore, as I will explain in a later chapter, the word “duplicity” is a duplicitous duplicity. That is,
there are two layers of duplicity, a gross duplicity contained in a subtle duplicity. So the word
“duplicity” is really triplicitous. Therefore the word “duplicity” is singularly appropriate to serve as
the paradigmatic word in a theory of language because it not only refers to duplicity, but also because
it exemplifies duplicity, and it does so duplicitously. Let us begin to unfold the layers of this word one
by one, beginning with an analysis of its etymology and morphology.
The word “duplicity” was borrowed into English from Latin “duplicit³s!” There are many
related words that were borrowed from Latin including “double”, “duple”, “duplex”, “duplicate”,
“dubious”, etc. These words obviously begin with the same morpheme, “du-” or “dou-”, meaning
“two”, which is from Latin “du-”. Latin “du-” and English “two” are etymological cognates both
deriving from the same Proto-Indoeuropean root, *dwi-, which meant “two”. Thus the first morpheme of “duplicity” means “two”.
The second morpheme of the word “duplicity” is “-plic-”, which means “fold”, and is also
seen in “duplicate”, “duplex”, “triplex”, “perplex”, “complex”, “simplicity”, etc. This morpheme is
from the Proto-Indoeuropean root “*plek-” meaning “to plait, braid”, which became the native
English word “flax”. This morpheme is the root of a verb in Latin, “plic³re“, meaning “to fold”.
Compare Greek “pleko”, plekw.
One might suppose that the “pl” in the words “duple”, “triple”, “simple”, which were borrowed from Latin “duplus”, “triplus”, “simplus”, and which also means “fold”, is from the same root
as the “pl” of “duplicity”, but it is not. This “pl” is descended from the same root as the “fol” of
English “fold”, which is Proto-Indoeuropean *pel- (Pokorney’s # 802), meaning “to fold”. Compare
Greek “diplous”, “haplous”.
Let me parenthetically comment on the apparently aberrant spelling of “double”. We would
expect English “duple” from Latin “duplus”. We do have the word “duple” in English, but we also
have the unexpected “double”. These facts are the result of two independent borrowings into English
from the same Latin “duplus”. The fact that the version spelled “double” is used in ordinary everyday
English whereas the spelling “duple” is only used as a technical term in logic and mathematics suggests that the former was borrowed from Latin indirectly through French by contact with the French
speaking Normans during the Norman domination of England, as were so many of the ordinary
English words of Latin origin, whereas “duple” was borrowed into English directly from Latin as a
scholarly term in the language of scholars who used Latin as a technical language in logic and mathematics, among other subjects. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the earliest attested occurrences of the common word “double”, the earliest being in 1225, were already spelled with “b”, and
this was after the beginning of the period of Norman domination. These facts, together with the fact
222
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
An Analysis of the Duplicity of the Word “Duplicity”
that the aberrant spelling, “double”, is exactly the same as the French spelling, confirms the above
explanation.
Getting back to the word “duplicity”, the last part of the word is “-ity”, which serves the grammatical function of marking the word as an attributive noun. It is the equivalent of “-ness” in English,
so the literal analytic meaning of the word “duplicity” is “double-ness”, or in purely English morphemes, “two-fold-ness.”
Now with the innards of this word laid out before us, we can get at the point I want to focus on
here, which is this. Although the word “duplicity” is commonly used to mean falseness, there is no
morpheme in the word that means “false.” So how does it come to mean “false”? Consider by contrast, for example, the word “falseness”, which means falseness because it has the morpheme “false”
in it. In this sense the semantics of the word “falseness” is transparent. Somewhat less transparent, the
word “fallacious” refers to falseness because it comes from a Latin word that has the morpheme “falsus” in it. Similarly, “pseudoscience” means “false science” because “pseudo” is the Greek morpheme for “false”. This is even less transparent because the morpheme that means “falseness” is not
even phonologically similar to the English morpheme “false”. Still less transparent are “misinformation” and “disinformation”, both of which mean “false information” because of the negative prefixes
“mis-” and “dis-”. These prefixes convey the meaning of falseness because they are negative, and
negativity and falseness are semantically equivalent. For example, “It is false that the book is on the
table” means virtually the same thing as “The book is not on the table”. So “information that is not
information” is virtually the same as “false information.”
But when we consider the word “duplicity” we do not find a morpheme that means “false”
and we do not find an element of negativity. The analytical meaning of the word is two-ness, and yet
it is used to mean false-ness. Its plain meaning is in the sphere of quantity, but it ends up in the sphere
of veracity. It is as if we put together the ingredients for a cake, pop it in the oven, and out comes a
bicycle. So the point I want to focus on here is that the word “duplicity” is duplicitous in that it
appears to mean one thing on the face of it, but something unseen happens such that in ordinary usage
it conveys a totally different meaning. (See Figure 27.)
FIGURE 27.
The Duplicity of the word “Duplicity”
Duplicity = False-ness
Level 2 - Derived Meaning
Duplicity = Two-fold-ness
Level 1 - Analytical Meaning
Given that there is some sort of sleight of hand in the meaning of the word “duplicity”, the
next question is how does this happen? What is the line of reasoning that goes on behind the scenes to
transform the semantic value of this word from twoness to falseness?
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
223
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
Of course, we, the speakers of English, all know intuitively how this magic trick works,
because we do it every time we use the word, but we go through it so automatically, and so unconsciously, that we are not normally aware that there is a semantic gap here, nor are we aware of how
we bridge the gap. Thus what we are trying to get at here is not some arcane or mysterious facts about
the word “duplicity”; rather we are trying to discover facts which we already know intuitively, but
which are buried under the surface of our awareness. We are trying to slow down the ordinary everyday semantic trick that is already integrated into the semantics of the word, so that we can see what is
actually going on, so that we can become aware of what we all already know intuitively about the
semantics of the word “duplicity.”
If we stop to think about this semantic jump from twoness to falseness, we realize that there
are many other familiar examples in English that make the same jump, such as “double-tongued”,
“forked-tongue”, “two-faced”, “double dealing”, “double agent”, “double talk”, etc. All of these are
examples where twoness is used to mean falseness. The fact that there are other cases of the same
jump shows that this is not an isolated arbitrary characteristic of this particular word, but rather is a
more general semantic process. The question is how general. Let us then hypothecate a semantic principle which holds that twoness implies falseness and consider what the general parameters of this
principle might be.
As we survey the boundaries of this semantic implication, we note by way of limitation that
not all references to twoness imply falseness. For example, a “two-way street” is not a false street, but
rather a street on which cars can go in two directions, as opposed to a one-way street. Similarly, “double chocolate cake” is not false chocolate cake, but cake with two times as much chocolate in it as a
normal chocolate. Thus the implication does not go through when twoness refers to a quantitative
property of the referent. This suggest that the generalization is that twoness implies falseness in the
absence of quantitative relevance. In other words, it is only when we are referring to the quality of
twoness, as opposed to the quantity of twoness, that it implies falseness. Thus we take the expression
“a two-faced man” to mean that the man is a liar, unless we can find some interpretation under which
he actually has two faces. For example, I once saw a two-headed goat, and of course it was also twofaced.
Next, we may observe that the generalization extends by inversion to the opposite. That is, as
twoness implies falseness, so does oneness imply truth. And these implications are symmetrical as
well, which is to say the reverse also holds: falseness implies twoness, and truth implies oneness.
There are numerous examples which evidence this more general form of the principle. For example,
the oath that witnesses are required to say in court is, “I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth.” The word “whole” implies that its referent, “truth”, is one thing. Contrast “*the
whole false”, which is incoherent because it is contradictory as a function of our semantic principle
because “false” implies twoness but “whole” implies” oneness.
Note also, by way of citing another example, the use of the word “incoherent” in the previous
sentence. The analysis of this word morpheme by morpheme is “in-co-herent”, which means “nottogether-sticking”, which means “not one”, which means by implication through our general principle, “not true”, which means “false”. To generalize from this example, the property of incoherence,
inconsistency, contradiction, etc. is taken as a sign of falsehood, and the property of coherence, consistency, non-contradiction, etc. as a sign of truth.
We may observe further that the relevant opposition is not really between the number one and
the number two, but more generally between the property of oneness, wholeness, unity, coherence on
one hand, and twoness, partiality, division, and chaos on the other hand. Further, when we refer to
twoness in this context, it is not the quantitative aspect of twoness, but the conceptual position of
224
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
An Analysis of the Duplicity of the Word “Duplicity”
twoness as the beginning of manyness. That is, if you begin with one - and you must begin with one,
because one is the beginning - and then if you divide that one, you get two, and then if you divide one
of the two, you get three, and if you divide one of the three, you get four, and so on. Thus twoness is
the product of division and thus is the beginning of manyness. It is the first sign of manyness. So in
this context, twoness should not be taken as a numerical operator, but rather is serving as a representation of the quality of manyness through its capacity as the first step on the way to manyness. In
other words, in this context, the concept of twoness that is relevant is not the position between oneness and threeness in the endless chain of numbers, but the second position in the pairwise opposition
between one and many. It is not the quantity of two that is relevant, but the quality of manyness that is
implicit in twoness as the first product of division.
These observations open up the way to the realization that the semantic principle we are considering here is a very general principle which governs a vast system of pairs of oppositions which
align with each other in accord with the semantic principle of similarity beginning with the true/false
vs. one/many relationship1. For example, by similarity with the one/many opposition we say, “He was
straight with me”, but we mean that he told me the truth. By opposition we say, “There is something
crooked about this story”, but we mean there is something false about the story. The similarity here is
a function of the fact that a straight line is one thing, whereas a crooked line has many facets. Therefore, straight is to crooked as one is to many as true is to false. And, of course, the straight/crooked
opposition does not just imply the opposition true/false, but it also implies good/bad. Specifically,
straight is to crooked as law-abiding-citizen/criminal.
Further, if we look at other languages we find the same system of implications, which leads us
to believe that this system of semantic implications is not just a convention of English, nor just a tradition of Western culture, but that it is a universal semantic principle which is manifest in every language, which is to say, it is a natural semantic law. In other words, the ubiquity of this system of
implications leads us to the conclusion that this law of implication governs universally in the realm of
language just as the law of gravity governs in the physical universe.
To see that this semantic law governs the same complex system of implications in other languages, consider the text of the Bible, which was written in Hebrew and Greek, as an example. Consider, Psalms 12:2 “with a double heart do they speak”. Or James 1:8 “A double minded man is
unstable in all of his ways”. Or consider the name of the devil, which in Greek is diabovlou, the root
meaning of which is “to pull apart”, which means “to divide”, which means by implication via our
general principle, “to generate falsehoods”, which is why the devil is called “the father of lies”.
On the surface, the language of the Bible appears to be wildly incoherent. One cannot make
sense of it unless one realizes that the text is incoherent on the surface and that its coherence is at a
deeper level of analysis, as a function of the system of oppositions and similarities we are considering
here. The whole text is an exposition as well as an exemplification of the dynamic of the conflict
between the truth and the false as this conflict is manifest in perception and in language in the properties of oneness and manyness.
This is not the place to undertake a systematic exegesis of the Bible, but I will mention a few
more examples to illustrate the denseness of the fabric of implication which is a function of the principle we are considering here. Consider the general theme of the scattered vs. the gathered which is
1. Some might realize that this is the same semantic system which Roman Jacobson talked about in terms of similarity vs.
contiguity and metaphor vs. metonymy. And also it is the same system as Freud called “primary process thinking” and
which he talked about in terms of condensation vs. displacement. We will discuss these relationships more fully at a
later stage of the discussion.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
225
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
woven throughout the text, as for example in the scattering of the whole human species which took
place at the tower of Babel by means of the confusion of language. In this regard, note that the root
meaning of the Greek word “lovgo”, used to mean “word” in the Koine Greek of the new testament,
which is etymologically cognate with “logic”, “legal”, “ligature”, etc., is “to gather”. This textual
play on the opposition of scattering vs. gathering is obviously parallel to the play of the one vs. the
many, the true vs. the false, etc.
Or consider one particular sentence that is often cited as an example of the ludicrous incoherence of the Bible, Genesis 27:11: “Esau, my brother, is an hairy man, and I am a smooth man.” In the
context of the general principle we are considering, we can immediately see that the point is that this
is a play on the manyness of hairiness vs. the oneness of smoothness. In the context of the story in
which it occurs, it conveys a value judgment in the pairwise relationship between the speaker, Jacob,
the smooth, who is the exemplar of good, as opposed to Esau, the hairy, who is the exemplar of evil.
After making this observation, Jacob proceeded to fool his father into thinking that he was Esau by
putting the hairy skin of goats upon his hands and upon the back of his neck so that when the father
touched Jacob’s hands and neck he would perceive the hairiness and think he, Jacob, was the hairy
brother, Esau. Note that this theme, hairy-ness-as-a-sign-of-evil, is not just random symbolization
because it becomes a very important element of the theme of substitutive sacrifice, which is played
out for example in the coat of many colors that Jacob gave to his favorite son Joseph, in the idea of a
scapegoat, of a hair shirt, etc.
Thus we see in ordinary English as well as in the Hebrew and Greek text of the Bible that
there is a general system of pairs of opposites, generated from the basic pattern “one is to many as
true is to false as good is to evil”, including gathered/scattered, straight/crooked, straight/twisted,
straight/tangled (“Oh, what a tangled web we weave...”), smooth/hairy, smooth/rough, etc. And we
find the same system in Latin, as we have seen in the Latin borrowings into English. These facts are
evidence in support of the belief that this is a universal, natural principle.
There is a possible counter argument which would follow from a certain way of thinking
about culture and language that enjoys a certain degree of popularity these days. One might counter
by claiming that the examples I have cited from different languages are not independent of each other,
but rather are all drawn from the same cultural system, the so-called Western Judeo-Christian culture.
In other words, the idea is that this same system of semantic implications is found in these various
languages, not because it is a function of natural semantic law, but because it was borrowed from biblical Hebrew into Greek and then into Latin and then into English, along with the religious ideas
which comprise the common core of Western Judeo-Christian culture. I will make three points in
reply to this counter argument.
First, as a matter of principle, this idea is ludicrous to anyone who is familiar with the historical dimension of these languages, or with language in general. Only someone who thinks of language
and culture as an arbitrary hodgepodge could seriously entertain the idea. The fact is that language
and culture is systematic both in its synchronic and its diachronic dimension. Consequently it is possible to precisely distinguish between inherited and borrowed elements, particularly in language. For
this reason, from an informed point of view, it is perfectly obvious that there is no such thing as a
Western Judeo-Christian system of language or culture. In the geographical area in question there are
several etymologically independent systems of language, the Semitic system, the Indoeuropean system, the Fino-ugric system, the Ural-altaic system, and the Basque system, and with few exceptions,
it is possible to distinguish alien borrowings from native structures, and the sort of borrowing that is
envisioned in this counter argument simply does not take place. Ideas have been borrowed from
Hebrew into English, but very few words or sentences were. The vocabulary that was borrowed into
226
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
An Analysis of the Duplicity of the Word “Duplicity”
English from Hebrew has almost entirely been filtered through Aramaic, then Greek, then Latin, and
then into English. As a result, the modern English vocabulary that is used in relation to the Hebrew
religion has very little relation to the Hebrew vocabulary of the Hebrew religion, not etymologically,
and not through borrowing. This paucity of relationship between Hebrew and English is especially
striking if one contrasts it to the massive borrowings into English from Latin and Greek in the vocabulary of philosophy and science. Thus these semantic structures have not been borrowed from
Hebrew into English. As I said, the idea is ludicrous.
Furthermore, whereas languages do borrow words, and sometimes phrases or sentences, from
other languages, they do not borrow systematic principles or structures. They do not even borrow the
smallest of systematic phonological elements. On the contrary, when words are borrowed which contain foreign elements those foreign elements tend to change to conform to the native system, not vice
versa. And to the extent that borrowed words do retain alien phonological features, they also retain
their alienness. For example, there are several words like “pneumonia” which English borrowed from
Greek, but in English we drop off the initial “p” in pronunciation because word initial “pn” violates
the rules of English phonology. So although English has borrowed many words like these which are
inconsistent with the prior rules of English, and although these words have been in English for hundreds of years, the phonology of English has not changed. In other words, English did not borrow a
general principle, or even relax its own native principle in accommodation to these illegal borrowings. Thus if language does not borrow even the smallest and most superficial of generalizations, how
much less likely is it to borrow the sort of deep and pervasive generalization we are considering.
Therefore, the idea that this system of associations was borrowed from Hebrew into Greek and then
into English is triply ludicrous as a matter of principle.
The second point I want to make in reply is a matter of fact. One can look at the native core of
contemporary English, which is still uncontaminated by borrowings, and one can look back at the old
English of the ninth century texts before the language had any contact with Hebrew or Greek or Latin,
and by means of the method of internal reconstruction one can look back at the proto-Germanic stage
of English, and even back to the Proto-Indoeuropean stage some four thousand years ago, and one
finds evidence of this same system of associations throughout. For example, the native English word
“truth” comes from a Proto-Indoeuropean root meaning “solid”, and is cognate with “tree” as a type
of solidity, which is why trees were worshipped in old Germanic cultures.
Further, and what is probably the most obviously devastating reply, the same system of associations can be found in every language throughout the whole world. And, as we are in the process of
showing, this general semantic principle which we are considering here is not just manifest in the lexical system of associations, nor just in the implications we are considering, but is the most fundamental principle of language, and thus is manifest in every element at every level of structure of every
language. To put it in a nutshell, the empirical evidence compels us to recognize that this is a natural
semantic law.
The third point I would like to make in reply to the idea that this principle is an arbitrary element of Western Judeo-Christian culture, neither a matter of principle or of fact, but a matter of selfevident truth. You do not have to know anything about language to realize that this principle is intrinsically valid. If you think about it, there are many ways in which falseness has the property of manyness. For example, a lie necessarily takes shape in imitation of the truth in relation to which it is false.
So a lie is necessarily secondary and parasitic in relation to truth, and thus a lie is necessarily a second
thing. Further, a lie creates a second, hypothetical world, the world in which the lie is taken as truth.
The creation of this second world sets in motion a theoretically endless sequence of possibilities,
implications, obligations, etc., in relation to the real world, and often in conflict with the real world.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
227
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
So in order to sustain the viability of the lie one must keep track of these possibilities, implications,
etc. in order to reconcile them with the real world. Thus it is self-evident that the false necessarily
entails many kinds of manyness.
Or another way one can arrive at the same conclusion is this. Suppose I am hungry, and I am
in a strange town, and suppose I ask someone to tell me where I can find a restaurant. If he tells me a
lie, and if I follow his directions, I will not find a restaurant. So my hunger will not be satisfied, so I
will have to ask again. But if he tells me the truth, I will find a restaurant, and I will eat, and my hunger will be satisfied, so one truth would satisfy. It is perfectly obvious from such an example that the
false necessitates repetition, i.e., manyness, whereas the truth satisfies, and thus is only necessary
once.1
So in conclusion, there is a natural law, a necessary law, a universal law, which is a self-evident consequence of the nature of the truth and the false, which holds that the truth is one and the false
is many. This law holds the same position in governing the realm of language and logic and semantics
as the law of gravity holds in governing the physical the world. For this reason, one must understand
how language is a function of this law in order to understand language and to use language effectively, just as one must tacitly understand how physical things conform to the law of gravity in order
to walk or throw a rock effectively. In other words, language presupposes this law, so one must play
the game of language in accord with this law.
We will, of course, encounter this law throughout our inquiry into the duplicity of language,
for it is inherent in the logic of duplicity, and in the structure and dynamic of language.
A Variety of Examples Mentioned by Roman Jakobson
The fact that language is fundamentally dualistic is one of the themes which Roman Jakobson
continually emphasized throughout his voluminous writings.
However, in spite of his appreciation of the dualism of language, and in spite of his legendary
breadth of knowledge and depth of insight into language, he was unable to accept the falseness that is
implicit in the duality of language. This is, as we have been arguing, the most basic principle of the
realm of signs: doubleness implies duplicity and singleness implies truth. Nevertheless, just as Jakobson frequently quoted Saussure's famous statement that every element of language is an “entité à
deux faces”, apparently without appreciating the implication of duplicity inherent in the expression,
so he was unable to appreciate the duplicity of the duality of language in general.
The only explicit reference I have found in his work to the idea that linguistic phenomena are
duplicitous, deceptive, distorting, etc. is a denial. In his article “Linguistics and Communication Theory” there is a very turgid paragraph in which he touches on a plethora of duplicitous phenomena. I
cite this paragraph here in full both because it is so dense and because it is richly suggestive.
When dealing with meanings, whether grammatical or lexical, we must be careful not to misuse the polar notions
-”regularity” and “deviation”. The idea of deviation frequently arises from a disregard for the stratified, hierarchic structure of language. There is, however, a substantial difference between secondariness and deviation. We
1. By the way, this helps to explain why Moses was so severely punished for the seemingly trivial crime of touching the
rock of truth twice.
228
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
A Variety of Examples Mentioned by Roman Jakobson
are not justified in envisaging as deviant either Kurylowicz's “syntactic derivation” with regard to the “primary
function”, or Chomsky’s “transforms” versus “kernels”, or Bloomfield's “marginal” (“transferred”) meanings in
relation to the “central” meaning of the word. Metaphoric creations are not deviations but regular processes of
certain stylistic varieties, which are subcodes of an overall code, and within such a subcode there is nothing deviant in Marvell’s figurative assignment of a concrete epithet to an abstract noun (properly a hypallage) - “a green
Thought in a green shade” - or in Shakespeare’s metaphoric transposition of an inanimate noun into the feminine
class - “the morning opes her golden gates” - or in the metonymic use of “sorrow” instead of “sorrowful while”,
which Putnam’s paper excerpts from Dylan Thomas (“A grief ago I saw him there”). In contradistinction to such
agrammatical constructions as “girls sleeps”, the quoted phrases are meaningful, and any meaningful sentence
can be submitted to a truth test, exactly in the same way as the statement, “Peter is an old fox” could lead to a
reply, “It is not true; Peter is not a fox but a swine; but John is a fox.” Incidentally, neither ellipsis nor reticence
or anacoluthon can be considered as deviant structures; they, and the slurred style of speech, a brachylogical subcode to which they belong, are merely lawful derivations from the kernel forms embedded in the explicit standard. (Volume II, p. 578-579, his italics)
Jakobson made this assertion within a frame of reference which did not recognize the fundamental
duplicity of language. Since the present context does recognize the duplicity of language, we can
transform his assertions into our frame of reference simply by reversing their polarity, and thus we
can reap a rich harvest of examples of the duplicity of language from his denial that language is
duplicitous.1
For example, he says that “there is a substantial difference between secondariness and deviation”. By reversing this assertion thus:
Secondness and deviation are essentially the same thing
we get a hypothetical principle which makes a general claim about the various semantic and formal
relations to be found in language. And, I am suggesting that this is exactly what we find: all secondness is deviant. We will discuss some of these kinds of duplicity in detail below. For now I will mention that in ordinary English the idea of secondness is often explicitly associated with deviance.
“Factory seconds” are goods that were not manufactured correctly. That is, they deviate from the
standard of quality. “Second hand evidence” is considered to be more likely to deviate from truth as
compared with “first hand evidence”. Sometimes one hears the expression “second nature”, which is
intended to mean that it is a nature that is just as good as first nature, but which also distinguishes it
from first nature, and thus conveys the idea that it is not nature, or in other words unnatural, or deviant from nature.
Jakobson says in the above quote that
Metaphoric creations are not deviations but are regular processes of certain stylistic varieties, which are subcodes
of an overall code...
1. At a deeper level of analysis, Jakobson’s denial here is an excellent example of repression, and thus an example of the
essential duplicity of negation. As Freud observed, when people begin a dialogue by saying, “I don’t mean this as an
insult...”, you can be sure it will be an insult. The general principle is this: “the content of a repressed image or idea can
make its way into consciousness, on condition that it is negated. Negation is a way of taking cognizance of what is
repressed; indeed it is already a lifting of the repression, though not, of course, an acceptance of what is repressed.”
And, “To negate something in a judgement is, at bottom, to say: ‘This is something which I would prefer to repress.’ A
negative judgement is the intellectual substitute (read ‘symbolic substitute’) for repression; its ‘no’ is the hall-mark of
repression, a certificate of origin - like, let us say, ‘Made in Germany.’ (Or, “Made in the Unconscious’) With the help
of the symbol of negation, thinking frees itself from the restrictions of repression and enriches itself with the material
that is indispensable for its proper functioning.” (italics in original, my parenthesis) SE XIX, 235-6.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
229
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
but it is quite clear that they are deviant. He himself cites the extremely deviant example, “a green
Thought in a green shade”, which alludes (duplicitously) to Chomsky's famous sentence, “Colorless
green ideas sleep furiously”, which Chomsky invented precisely for the purpose of illustrating deviance. If one did not consider these examples to be deviant, then the word “deviant” would be meaningless. And yet deviance is not meaningless. On the contrary, it is precisely deviance that is
meaningful, at least in the linguistic sense of meaningful. This goes to the very essence of the nature
of the symbolic kind of meaningfulness: In order to be symbolically meaningful something must in
principle deviate from its natural meaningfulness. For example, a tip of the hat can be an act of politeness precisely because it is not functional in any natural way, but an itch of the nose could not function as an act of politeness because it already has a natural function.
This confusion about deviance and meaningfulness can be easily sorted out by thinking about
metaphor in terms of the dual structure of duplicity as follows. First, as Jakobson mentioned, there
are two codes, and the literal code must be taken as prior to the metaphorical code. The literal code is
the code of universe¹, a universe that exists prior to the creation of the metaphor, and which provides
the substance of which the metaphor is created. Second, when a new metaphor is first created it has
something of the vital spontaneity of pure manifestation, as distinct from the dry correctness of literal
language. In the beginning it escapes from universe¹. The original thrust of its being is not one of
deviance, but rather one of a non-linguistic urge, a wild burst of creativity, which breaks the bonds of
language in manifesting itself. Or, the bonds of language are broken as a lamb is slaughtered at a
wedding feast. One would not want to say that the wedding took place in order to justify the slaughter
of the lamb. So too does Jakobson not want to say that metaphor is deviant. There, however a third
stage in which the metaphor is recaptured by language, it becomes institutionalized. It becomes a
conventionalized expression. And when this happens a subcode has been established, which is a new
universe², a deviant subuniverse of universe¹. Thus, while the urge which gives birth to metaphor
might not be deviant, even at its most sublime the metaphoric urge is deviant. And when this urge
becomes conventionalized, it does not cease to be deviant, it just becomes a conventionalized deviance. (This is what Freud called “sublimation”, or in another frame of reference we would call “taming” or “civilization.”) So metaphor is duplicitous, and deviant. As is everything in language.
In this sense, I want to claim that every second in language, every derived form, must be
understood as deviant from a prior standard. In order to understand any element of language, one
must look at it in terms of the bifocal framework of duplicity in which both universes of the duplicity
are held in view at the same time. That is, I am claiming that in order to sort out the confusion of the
duplicity of language, every entity in language must be seen in its essential duplicity.
However, in conflict with this theoretical necessity, is the absolutely primitive law that oneness is prior to twoness. The very notion of a law presupposes a homogenous uni-verse. It is the regularity of the universe which makes it a uni-verse. Even the structure of duplicity in language is
governed by the prior law of the unity of truth. In unconscious obedience to this primitive law, the
mind seeks to resolve duplicity into unity. In psychological terms this has been called “cognitive dissonance”, which refers to the unpleasant feeling of doubt and anxiety which accompanies the conflict
inherent in duplicity. And this unpleasant feeling provides the urge to resolve the conflict, sometimes
at the expense of truth, in favor of expedience, or social harmony, or one’s secret wishes. Thus, in
order to do linguistics one must struggle against this perfectly natural urge. One must sustain a dualistic point of view long enough to understand how it works in language. In this way, one can organically dissolve the conflict in the unity of real understanding, rather than impulsively grasping at one
230
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Symbolism
or another horn of the dilemma in an expedient, but false, and thus temporary, escape from the
unpleasantness of the dilemma.
I hasten to add, that this criticism of Jakobson's position is not intended to disparage his work
in the least. My purpose is quite the opposite. It is because I recognize and appreciate the force of his
work that I am trying to show how it only requires a slight adjustment in orientation to bring it to bear
in support of my position.
Symbolism
I want to explore one particular family of symbolic signs in some depth. I have in mind the
class of linguistic phenomena such as the use of the dove as a symbol of peace.
In common parlance this kind of symbolism is distinguished from ordinary symbolism by
calling it “symbolism”, as if there were symbolic and non-symbolic kinds of symbolism. In this common sense of the word “symbolic”, people speak of a “very symbolic act”, “symbolic language”,
“deeply symbolic poetry”, etc. as if there were symbolic acts, language, and poetry that were not
symbolic. This usage is incoherent in the same way as “very wet water” is incoherent, and yet there is
a certain way in which it makes sense. I suggest that it is not the symbolicity of these symbols that
distinguishes them in the ordinary mind from the general category of symbols. I suggest that these
symbols are distinct in the degree of prominence which they enjoy in the awareness of the ordinary
linguistically naive speaker of language. To put it another way, the ordinary naive speaker would say,
The sentence ‘The dove of peace” is not normal language, it is symbolic. The sentence ‘The dove is a bird’ is not
symbolic.
So the ordinary speaker is already aware of the fact that the use of the dove as a symbol of peace is a
deviant usage. And it is precisely this awareness that offers us a convenient point of departure from
which to begin our archeological dig down into the depths of symbolism.
So beginning with the dove as a symbol of peace, in order for the dove to function as a symbol
of peace, there has to be the concept of the dove as a bird, which means that there has to be a word
“dove” that refers to the bird in the ordinary sense. The first sentence below uses the word “dove” in
the basic literal symbolic sense, the sense which provides the standard from which the second sentence deviates in using the word “dove” in the secondary symbolic way that we are going to explore
here.
That bird is a dove.
May the dove inhabit your garden.
In this sense, this kind of symbolism is secondary.
However, this kind of secondary symbolic usage does not uniquely characterize a class of
symbolism apart from the symbolism of language in general, for this particular kind of secondary
symbolism uses the same mechanism which we have been arguing is the primitive dynamic of language in general. This kind of secondariness differs from the generic secondariness of language phenomena only in being relatively more prominent in the awareness of the ordinary linguistically naive
speaker, and correspondingly, in being relatively marginal to the core of language. And it is precisely
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
231
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
because it is a superficial and marginal type of linguistic duplicity that it is a particularly useful place
to begin.
The Dove
Most every normal person in our society knows that a dove is a kind of bird and that the dove
is used as a symbol of peace. Taking this as an ordinary and familiar example of a large class of symbols then, let us consider not the word “dove” but the use of the actual bird itself as a symbol of
peace.
There are certain occasions when people feel that it would be a good thing to display representations of peacefulness, for they believe that such a display will actually evoke a framework of peacefulness.1 For example, it is common in the opening ceremonies of international athletic competitions,
such as the Olympics, to frame the competition in its opening ceremonies by ostentatiously releasing
a large number of doves which fly up in the air in a spectacular display representing peace. Similarly,
the release of a pair of doves is part of the wedding ceremonies in various cultures.
The fact that this particular display should be used to represent peace is not accidental. There
are several associative similarities that provides the connection between the birds and the phenomenon of peace. There are at least three associative connections. First, not just any kind of dove can represent peace: it must be a white dove. The connection here is through the association of white with
goodness as opposed to black with evil: Peace is good, thus a white dove is associated with peace.
Second, the flight of birds is a natural manifestation of the freedom of movement, the joy, and the
exuberant surge of energy associated with peace, in contrast with war. In a state of war, or conflict in
general, one's freedom of movement is inhibited and a certain amount of one's energy must be dedicated to the conflict. The cessation of conflict, i.e. the onset of peace, thus releases a surge of exuberant energy and a freedom of movement which is eloquently expressed in the flight of birds. Third, the
release of the birds from their cages so that they can fly away corresponds to the release from conflict
which is characteristic of the coming of peace. This symbolism is represented in Figure 28.
The idea of Figure 28 is that the paper on which this text is being printed is supposed to represent the
real world and the picture of the dove flying is supposed to represent a real dove in the real world.
Universe1 is the conventional frame of reference in which the real flying dove is taken as a symbol of
peace.
The point I am making here is not that it is incorrect to use doves as symbols of peace, for as
we have just discussed, by its nature the dove is suited to being used as a symbol of peace. And the
desire to invoke peace by the representation of peace is certainly a laudable and benevolent purpose.
The point is that the symbolic conceptualization of the situation, whether well motivated or not, distorts our perception, induces violence, and inhibits our behavior.
In the first place the symbolic conceptualization of the situation leads us to evaluate the situation solely from the symbolically prescribed point of view of Universe1. We see the on-stage aspect
of the symbolic situation, and we totally ignore the off-stage part of the situation. We see the dove
being released and we thrill at the exuberance of the spectacle and we congratulate ourselves on our
1. This is of course the kind of magical thinking which moves language in general.
232
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Symbolism
FIGURE 28.
The Duplicity of the Dove as a Symbol of Peace
PEACE
Universe1 - Conventional Reality - Realm of Conventional Law
(The real flight of a real dove)
The Universe - Real Reality - Realm of Natural Law
benevolent intentions. But what about the dove itself? We do not see the dove, except as the embodiment of our desire to display representations of our intentions. We consider the dove to be an apt
embodiment of peace, but what does the dove think?
Second, we see the doves flying away with great exuberance, but we do not see them being
released. The flying part of the symbolic drama is on-stage, but the being released part is not. Of
course the doves fly away with exuberance; they have just been released from captivity, but we do
not want to see that part of the situation because that would mitigate the symbolic value of the event.
Third, in order to be released, the doves had to be captive. Our laudable desire to use doves
symbolically in our ceremony induces someone, someone else presumably, to catch them, put them
in cages, sell them, ship them to the scene, and take care of them until we are ready for them to attain
their moment of glory in our eyes. When the dove is used as a symbol of peace, when it is taken as the
embodiment of our representation in order to serve our symbolic ends, it is forced to submit to our
symbolic scenario.
In short, contrary to its nature, something¹, the dove in this case, is enslaved to its symbolic
role. And we do not normally see this dimension of symbolism, because we are cooperatively focusing our attention on the situation as it is being portrayed on stage. In this case it is only violence
against some birds, which might be considered a tolerable expense to bear in order to permit the show
to go on. Of course, the birds probably do not feel the same. And, besides, the point is that this is a
matter of general principle which holds in regard to all symbolism, not just that of the dove as a representation of peace. In some cases the role of the bird might be played by someone closer to home, in
which case, the enslavement and the sacrifice necessitated by symbolism might be considered to be
of greater significance. This is the dimension of symbolism to which Jacques Lacan is trying to direct
our attention in the quote cited in the introduction:
MAN IS THE SUBJECT THAT IS CAPTURED AND TORTURED BY LANGUAGE.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
233
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
Of course the use of the dove as a symbol is not by any means an isolated example. Animals
figure prominently in the symbolic structuring of the human world view in many different ways. On
one hand, our language leads us to associate certain stereotypical characteristics with certain animals.
For example, we have the conventional sayings
timid as a mouse
busy as a beaver
dirty as a pig
which have the authority of conventional wisdom, and so we believe that these are innate characteristics of those animals, and we interact with the animals accordingly. From an objective point of view,
the idea of the animal thus fostered by language is at best accidentally related to the nature of the animal itself, and upon investigation can be seen to be sheerly imaginary attributes motivated by considerations quite apart from reality. That this is true becomes strikingly apparent when we consider the
ludicrous characteristics attributed to animals by other cultures. Not so long ago, in Chaucer's
English, for example, one said
lecherous as a sparrow
which seems not just silly but so utterly inappropriate that it is hard to imagine anyone believing that
a sparrow could symbolize lechery. A bull, yes. Or, a horse. Or, a mink. Or, a goat. But a sparrow?
In this way we are led to conceptualize animals, and nature in general, in an incorrect way,
and thus to interact with animals in inappropriate ways, which often have violent results, which usually turn out to be to the detriment of the animal being cast in a symbolic role. Jacques Lacan has, as
usual, put it in what appears at first sight to be a provocative hyperbola, which turns out, after some
reflection, to be no more than the plain truth.In Lacan's words
le mot est la meurtre de la chose,
an assertion which he intended to be taken literally as applying even to wild animals that have been so
unfortunate as to have been named by human beings. This is clear from the fact that in one of his
seminars (Miller 1988, p. 178) Lacan talked about the murder of the thing where the thing in question
is the elephant. His point was explained by Jacques-Alain Miller thus:
the most important accident that happened to elephants in their lives was something they never knew: that we
have the word “elephant”, and that the moment we have the word “elephant” elephants begin to disappear.
Because we are now killing them, systematically. (Miller 1991, p. 30)
I will explain this point in more detail in the discussion of Figure 35, “The Naive (or Cooked) View of
the Phonology of the Word “See”,” on page 294.
Then, having imposed symbolic identities upon animals, language turns those symbols identities around and attributes them to people. In English men and women are said to fight like cats and
dogs, though cats and dogs only have particular enmity for each other in the stereotypical imagination
of English speakers. A man who is in trouble with his wife is said to be in the dog house. A man is
said to lead a dog's life. A man who is caught thinking or acting in a particularly licentious manner is
said to be a dirty dog. On the other hand, “kitten” is a common affectionate nick-name for women and
234
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Symbolism
“Pussy” is a slang term for a woman's genitals. “A cat fight”, when referring to humans, can only
mean a fight between two women.
A similar kind of animal symbolism, but one which is more explicitly elaborated and woven
into the social structure, is the phenomena known as totemism. This term is used by anthropologists
in several different senses to refer to different kinds of phenomena where individuals and/or groups
identify with certain animals and regulate their behavior in various ways in accord with that identification. For example, sometimes people must imitate their totemic animal in certain stereotypical
ways. Or, they might be forbidden to say the name of their totem, or forbidden to kill it, or forbidden
to eat it. All of these regulations follow as a consequence of identity: imitation of one's totemic animal is simply an enactment of the behavior of that which one is; the naming of ancestors is a common
prohibition in many cultures; killing one's totemic animal would be murder; and eating it would be
cannibalism.
The Rat Man
A less familiar level of animal symbolism can be seen in Freud's famous analysis of the rat
man in “A Case of Obsessional Neurosis” (SE Vol. X). This patient came to be called “the rat man”
because he unconsciously identified with the rat, an individual totemism. In his idiosyncratic worldview the rat figured as a kind of ancestral protosymbol in an astonishingly complex private system of
substitutive representations which Freud unearthed and interpreted over a long period of analytic
interaction. We cannot hope to do justice to the complexity of this system, but we can point out some
of its general features by way of illustration.
The general characteristic of any pathological system of symbolism is that it is deviant from
some prior standard; so from the standard point of view it appears to be chaotic and meaningless. A
deviant system such as this rat system is, in other words, a foreign language or a foreign code from
the point of view of some prior standard code. And like any other deviant system, any given deviant
system may be more or less deviant than another, but every symbolic system is deviant to some
degree, even standard symbolic systems. And like any foreign language, no deviant symbolic system
is intrinsically any less meaningful than any other. In fact, all languages are deviant and all languages
are foreign languages. So in order to understand what people are doing with their symbols, one must
learn to make sense of the particular style of deviance that characterizes each language. That is what
Freud did with this man’s private language and he discovered that the key to understanding many of
his unique expressions was the rat. He discovered that in this man's world view, the rat was the prototypical image in terms of which he constructed his identity. In his world-view he himself was a rat
and everything else was either a rat or a transformation of a rat. Freud cites specific details of this
man’s language in which the rat represented variously the man himself, the penis, father, feces,
money, children, punishment, etc. For example, in regard to money,
The patient gave an indication of this connection by reacting to the word 'Ratten” ('rats') with the association
'Raten” ('installments'). In his obsessional deliria he had coined himself a regular rat currency. When, for
instance, in reply to a question, I told him my fee for an hour's treatment, he said to himself (as I learned six
month's later): 'So many florins, so many rats'. Little by little he translated into this language the whole complex
of money interests which centered around his father's legacy to him; that is to say, all of his ideas connected with
that subject were, by way of the verbal bridge 'Raten - Ratten', carried over into his obsessional life and brought
under the dominion of his unconscious. (vol. X. p. 213)
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
235
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
Another example: an important connection flowed through the accidental formal fact that word 'Spielratte', meaning 'gambler', is a compound word consisting of the words for play and rat. This fact, and
the fact that his father had once lost money gambling, provided the pretext which justified his symbolic representation of his father as a “Ratte”. This representation also makes sense in terms of the
fact that he considered himself to be a rat, for it is a biological necessity that the father of a rat must
also be a rat. In addition, casting his father as a 'Spielratte' characterizes the father as one who is
involved in an illicit transaction, which is exactly the role of his father his unconscious dramatistic
mythology of the world.
There are numerous other linguistic manifestations of this private rat language, such as the
special associations in this language for a word like 'heiraten', which, because of a coincidental similarity of form, gets caught up in the network of rat associations, and is woven into the fabric of his
mythological world view. But we do not have time to explore them further here.
Before we go on, since we have this example before us, I would like to take the opportunity to
make a couple of general points about symbolism. First, there is no difference in kind between a standard collectively recognized symbol and an idiosyncratic individual symbol such as we have here in
the Rat Man. The logic and the structure and the dynamics is exactly the same. The difference is
solely a matter of how many people adopt a symbol. If one person thinks a particular man, in this case
himself, is a rat, we call him crazy. If two people think a particular man is a rat, we call that a “folie à
deux”. And. if a whole culture thinks a particular man is a rat, we call that totemism. On an individual
level we call it “illusion”, and on a collective level it is exactly the same thing. And that is exactly
what Sapir called this sort of thinking - “collective illusion.” (Selected Writings, p. 54)
Does this imply that every symbol is pathological? Yes, it does. We could put it another way:
a symbol is a symptom, and vice versa. That is the point I am trying to make here. However, one must
recognize that there are degrees of pathology: it is a function of the number of layers of duplicity by
which a given symbol deviates from the ground of truth. That is, degree of pathology is a function of
degree of falsehood.1 Thus the rat man's rat language is not intrinsically any more pathological than
any other language. What made his language and his world-view pathological was that it entangled
him in a world of duplicities which was so deviant from the real world that it almost completely
inhibited his ability to function in the real world and it caused him constant suffering. Normal languages do not normally deviate quite so far, and thus are not normally quite so severely inhibiting.
And since normal languages are normal, in the technical sense of being composed of norms, they are
not normally thought of as pathological by those who speak them. This normal point of view is the
common folk theory of language, of which I spoke at the beginning.
Incorporation
The consumption of food and drink, being such an important dimension of life, is rich in symbolic associations throughout all languages and cultures, so let us consider some examples.
1. See Reusch's Disturbed Communication: The Clinical: The Assessment of Normal and Pathological Communicative
Behavior where it can be seen that every kind of psychopathology is a function of falsehood.
236
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Symbolism
Consider the complex fabric of substitutive incorporation which makes up the text of the
Bible. The problem of evil is said to have been set in motion by the eating of the fruit of the tree of the
knowledge of good and evil by Adam and Eve. In compensation for that consummation, the eating of
the Passover lamb symbolically reenacts Abraham's sacrifice of his son, though he did not actually
carry it through, because God provided a substitute sacrificial lamb of His own. In the temple regular
sacrifices of animals was to be made as payment in substitution for the sins of the people, which sacrifices were said to be consumed by God, but which were actually eaten by the priests. The temple
itself was a substitutive symbol of the body, where the symbolic representation of God rested in the
deepest and most holy inner sanctum. To this day, Christians drink wine and eat bread, as a reenactment of the eating of the Passover lamb, and at the same time as a symbolic consumption of the blood
and body of Christ, who is considered by them to be the real sacrifice of whom the sacrificial Passover lamb was a representation. The purpose of this symbolic act of consumption is to partake of the
body of the sacrifice in order to become one with the sacrifice. That is, by the principle that you are
what you eat, by drinking the blood of Christ, they believe they incorporate themselves in the body of
Christ. By a kind of logical inversion, they get incorporated by what they eat: they become incorporated into that which they eat. And of course, putting aside this perplexing inversion, the most striking aspect of this symbolic eating is that it is a symbolic form of cannibalism?
In a similar way, throughout all cultures, food and drink commonly take on derivative symbolic values through association with the nurture of the mother. And as the mother is the prototypical
other, the first other, upon whom the helpless infant is totally dependent, food and drink commonly
come to represent the all-important love and/or hate of the primary other. (The father is the second
other, by the way.) In this way, consumption of food and drink takes on a representative function,
quite apart from its nutritive function, and becomes elaborately interwoven in the symbolic world.1
A common example from American culture is this. Many people feel hungry or thirsty for
motherly love, so they eat and drink as a symbolic reenactment of the feeling of satisfaction that
flowed in the form of mother's milk into their bodies as infants. But when they eat symbolically, their
hunger is symbolically satisfied, which is to say it is not satisfied. One cannot satisfy a hunger symbolically. And in this case, the hunger itself is symbolic, being a function of the prolonged infancy
and dependence that goes along with the standard world view, so how much less can one satisfy a
symbolic hunger. Thus these people struggle with their desire in the chaos of a confusion between
layers and varieties of real and symbolic hunger.
The offering of food and drink to a guest is a universal symbolic enactment of the original
form of hospitality, that is, the hospitality of the mother. The word “hospitality” is from an IndoEuropean form, *ghos-ti-, which became English “guest” and Latin “hostis”, meaning enemy, and
borrowed into English as “hostile”. In the same way, alcoholic drink can become a symbol of the
opposite of mother's milk, or better, can become a symbol of the poisonous milk of hostility. This
symbolism permits one to symbolically display an ostentatious symbolic disdain for the symbolic
other's symbolic hostility by willingly and eagerly gulping alcoholic beverage down in great quantities in order to prove one's symbolic independence and immunity. Unfortunately, this symbolic
behavior necessitates the real consumption of real alcohol, which is really toxic.
1. For examples and analysis of the cultural varieties of consumptive symbolism, see Sanday (1986) Douglas (1973),
Harris ( ) and ( ), and Levi-Strauss The Raw and the Cooked, (1969).
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
237
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
Turning to a more official sort of symbolic incorporation, let us consider the corporation, in
the sense in which General Motors, for example, is a corporation.
The word 'corporation' is borrowed from Latin 'corpus' and is related to 'corps', 'corpse', etc.
The etymological English cognate is 'belly', but the native English semantic equivalent is 'body'. Thus
to express the concept in native English vocabulary, 'a corporation' really means 'an embodiment', the
verb 'to incorporate' is really means 'to embody'. A corporation, then, is a symbolic body, which is to
say it is a symbolic being that is intended to be taken as if it were a member of society, though in reality it is not a body, nor a person, nor any thing at all. It is a duplicity.
The corporation is an unusual kind of symbolic duplicity because it is an instance in which the
law and the government explicitly conspire with individuals in instituting and enacting the duplicity.
In other words, the corporation, as defined in law, is a legal duplicity. Let us first consider the ontology of a legal corporation, and then we will consider the sense in which it is a symbolic duplicity.
Though a corporation is not a body in reality, it is defined as a body in the law and it is seen as
a body in the eyes of the government.1 The law defines a corporation as a legal fiction: specifically, a
fictive entity which is accorded the status in law of a juridical person. And, since the kind of law we
are speaking of here is the law of the government, this is the law which governs the behavior of the
government, including the perception of the government. By law the government is obliged to recognize the existence of these legal fictions and to interact with them as juridical persons. Thus a corporation, as a legal fictive entity, can appear in a court of law, can buy and sell property, can obtain
various kinds of licensees and permits, can (and must) pay local, state, and federal taxes, and so on.
The obvious question is why? Why does the law and the government explicitly conspire in the
complexity and confusion of fictive beings? This question is, as always, difficult to answer, but it
seems to be motivated by the same kinds of considerations which we discussed above as the motivation for symbolic substitution in general. However, here we are no longer looking into the mind of the
naive infant, but rather the mind of the sophisticated lawyer, a region which is proverbially obnebulous. And, when it comes to attributing motive, it does not seem quite so heinous to speak of duplicity
and strategic maneuver in relation to lawyers as it does in relation to infants. But before we can get at
motivation we must analyze this duplicity a little further in terms of our framework.
The universe in which the corporation exists, then, is in the eyes of the civil government, and
it is regulated by the law of the civil government, as distinct from natural law. However, the law that
governs the corporation is not contained in the same universe as the corporation, for the law recognizes a corporation as a legal fiction. Therefore, the universe in which the corporation exists must
also be contained in the universe of the law. Thus the corporation is in a univese2 in relation to the
universe1 of the law.
We must take care to keep in mind here that this universe1 of the law is not the first universe,
but is only the universe¹ that is conceptually prior to the universe² in which corporations exist as fictitious juridical persons. There is, as we discussed in Chapter 3, the real universe prior to this universe1,
to which this kind of law does not extend. That is, the law1, in the sense of civil law intended here, is
incapable in principle of recognizing or apprehending things prior to this universe1. I have tried to
represent this confusing situation in Figure 29 on page 240.
1. As if the government had eyes.
238
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Symbolism
My dictionary defines a corporation as
A body of persons granted a charter legally recognizing them as a separate entity having its own rights, privileges, and liabilities distinct from those of its members.
It is obvious that, 'a body of persons' and 'its members' is the someone¹ who perpetrates the fraud. The
'separate entity' is something², the corporation, that which is represented. The government is someone², the dupe in whose eyes something¹ is accepted as something². But it is not so obvious what
something¹ is. What is the thing that embodies the representation of the corporation?
One might suppose that something¹ is the physical substance of the corporation, the property
it owns and/or occupies, the machines it uses, the things it produces, etc. But just as I do not consist of
my house, my job, or even my foot, so too the corporation does not consist of the material things it
possesses or governs. The corporation must exist before it can purchase or occupy property, before it
can acquire machines, before it can hire employees, etc. It is true that these things do represent the
corporation in a secondary sense, just as my car can be said to represent me. All of these things are
part of the image of a corporation, but none of them are essential to its existence.
What is essential to its existence, and the pivotal legal requirement, is that the corporation
must have an officially registered name. To cause a corporation to come into being one must make up
a name, check with the appropriate government office to make sure the name has not been used by
another corporation, file the new name in that office, and pay a small registration fee.
Of course, the fact that this procedure is so similar to the requirements for the naming of a
newly born child is not coincidental. A child has a marginal existence in the law until it is born. And
even then it does not officially exist until it is given a name and that name is officially registered in
the books of the government. And since official existence is the only kind the government can recognize, the government obliges everyone to exist officially, i.e. to have an official name in the government’s books. Thus, in the eyes of the government, having an officially registered name is the
essence of existence. And this concept of existence permits the possibility that something could exist
in name only. This is the kind of existence which the legal corporation enjoys. So, the something¹ of
the corporation is the officially registered name (which, of course, can be totally different from the
name under which it holds itself forth to the public). We can represent this world of fictive existence
in terms of the structure of duplicity as in Figure 29.
Of course, a person who creates a corporation must not only be a real person, but he must also
be an officially existing person, and so must be a named someone¹ in universe¹. A person who is real
but who does not have an officially recognized name cannot act in any official capacity: Among other
thing, he cannot officially name another person, nor can he create a corporation. As we mentioned,
something¹ is the name that someone¹ chooses to give to his corporation. The corporation is something², which in this case is considered to be a legal, or juridical person.
This issue might seem irrelevant to linguistics, but it is not. The grammar of persons is the
geometry of dialogue. And the fabric of dialogue is a function of the grammar of persons as applied
to the various points of reference that are in play. And what is at issue here is precisely the very basis
of points of reference, which is the body. So the question is, when we say “body”, what are we referring to? This problem of the legal corporation makes it clear that there are at least two, if not three
distinct types of bodies that we might be referring to. And this is why Jacques Lacan insists that an
adequate theory of psychology must be a “two-body psychology”, and what is more, he insists that
“speech is the central feature” that mediates between the two types of bodies.1 In other words, when
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
239
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
FIGURE 29.
The Logic of the Duplicity of the Corporation
Someone2 is a corporation
and has an official name
Universe2 - Legal Reality - Realm of Civil Law
Someone1 is a real person
and has an official name
Universe1 - Psychological Reality - Realm of Conventional Law
Someone has/is a real body, but no name
The Universe - Real Reality - Realm of Natural Law
we use a pronoun, what does it actually refer to? When I say “I”, I might be referring to the real me,
to the official me, or to me as an agent of the corporation which employs me - Someone, Someone1,
or Someone2. So there are times when I say something, but it is not really me saying it. And there are
times when I am beside myself with anger. So it is absolutely necessary to understand the duplicity of
the body, one example of which is being discussed here, in order to be able to understand how pronouns are used.
Turning now, finally, to motivation, the obvious question is this: In practical terms, if not
moral ones, why conspire in the complexity of fictitious beings? What is to be gained? To see what is
to be gained one must look at the situation from the different points of view of the various actors. The
motive for someone¹ to conspire in this symbolic complexity is clear. It is a strategic complexity
which permits someone¹ to do something and to not do something at the same time. Clothed in this
fiction, he can act in the name of the corporation such that any desirable consequences can pass
through the fictive person to him and any undesirable consequences fall to the fictive person. The fictive facade is transparent in the face of good things and opaque in the face of bad things. In particular,
profits, tax benefits, glory, etc. will pass through to someone¹. But, if the venture fails and ends up
with unpayable debts, the corporation can declare bankruptcy, leaving unpaid debts, and the obligation to pay the debts does not pass through to someone¹. The creditors cannot, as the lawyers say,
“pierce the corporate veil”. The same is true of most other liabilities, even many criminal violations.
The fictive corporation is stuck with the debts, responsibilities, and guilt.1 The corporation is a shield
1. In regard to the need for a two-body psychology specifically see p. 90 in Lacan’s “Function and field of speech and language” in Écrits and also p. 11 in Lacan’s first seminar (Miller, 1988), and references there. However, the fact that the
concept of the self, and thus of the body, is essentially duplicitous follows in his theory from the duplicitous logic of
the mirror stage, which is the first stage of identification.
1. The major exception to this is that in regard to tax obligations the government does manage to see through the corporate veil.
240
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Symbolism
and a fall guy. In sum, from the point of view of someone¹, the corporation is a complex duplicity
which is of strategic benefit to him.
Motivation is also clear from the lawyer's point of view. The ordinary legally naive person
does not know of the existence of this realm of legal fictions. In fact, conventional law, as distinct
from formally codified law, prohibits intentional duplicity, and so the ordinary person would think
that a legal fiction would be an impossibility. In this sense, there is a barrier of conventional presupposition which insulates the realm of legal fictions from the knowledge of the ordinary person. In
other words, the existence of this realm of legal duplicity is set off from the ordinary world by its
socially reprehensible nature as a kind of dirty secret. And of course, in as much as it is a different
kind of world, it must have a different kind of law. In effect then, from the ordinary point of view the
realm of legal duplicity is a secret and its special laws are unknown. The lawyer, who knows how to
maneuver in this secret realm, can sell his knowledge and expertise to the ordinary people who are his
clients. In general the lawyer's professional interest is opposed to the natural inclination for clarity
and simplicity, because the more duplicitous complexity he can create, the more money he stands to
make.
This brings us to the question of the government's motivation for playing the role of someone², the dupe, whose credulity sustains this realm of legal duplicity. It might seem that the government must loose, because of the cost of sustaining and transacting in the additional layer of
complexity. However, in general bureaucracies tend to favor their own growth, so from the bureaucratic point of view, additional complexity would be considered a gain. And, in so far as the agents of
the government are lawyers, additional complexity would also be their gain. However, in so far as the
government is an agent of the people, the complexity of this realm of legal fictions is a dead loss. It
would seem to be a device that is wielded by lawyers and bureaucrats for the benefit of those with
enough money to hire a lawyer at the expense of the rest of the people. This duplicity, like all others,
implies a division between the perpetrators and the victims. In this case, the government plays the
role of the dupe on behalf of the people at large. The government represents the people who are the
victims of the strategic duplicity of the corporation.
Nuts as Money
One could profitably explore the myriad symbolic duplicities in which money takes part, but
here I propose to take money for granted and recount a situation in which nuts came to take on the
value of money. This is a simple example of the evolution of a symbol. And it actually happened,
though even as fiction it could have provided insight into the dynamics of representation.
There was this small group of friends who went on a fishing trip to a beautiful lake in the deep
forest far away from the nearest outposts of civilization, where they stayed in a small but comfortable
cabin. Being far away, they took everything that they thought they would need along with them. As
soon as they arrived, they all rushed out to go fishing. Everyone had a good time catching lots of nice
big fish. When night was approaching, they took the fish back to their cabin and ate them. They were
delicious. Everyone was relaxed and contented.
Soon, however, they began to get bored. So they decided to play some kind of game. Someone
had the foresight to bring a deck of playing cards, so they decided to play poker. They began to set up
everything they needed to play, table in the center of the room, chairs arranged, light, drinks, etc. As
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
241
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
they prepared things, it was not long before they ran into a problem. They all had money to bet with,
but no one had very much change. They wanted to gamble, in order to make the game interesting, to
invest the play with value, and as a way of keeping score. But they did not want to gamble for high
stakes. They only wanted to play a nickel-dime game. After all, it was only a game. They didn't want
anyone to get hurt or angry in the game, that would defeat the purpose of the game.
So they looked around for something to use as a substitutes for money. Someone suggested a
small stick could be used as a nickel and a bigger one as a dime. This suggestion was immediately
poked full of holes. “How big is big?”, someone asked. “What is to keep someone from going out and
getting all the sticks he wants?” another asked.
One of them suggested that if nothing else, they could always keep score on paper. But no one
liked that idea. That would rob the game of half of its fun. Unaware of exactly why, they all rejected
the idea. (What they were thinking about was that they wanted some tangible thing as a token of
value that would allow them to exploit its expressive possibilities. They wanted to be able to touch
and hold their valuables. To see them. To put them in heaps. To admire them. To display them. To
hoard them. They wanted to be able to commit them to the game with a casual toss into the center of
the table to express the nonchalance of a winning hand. To be able to shove a huge heap of them into
the game as a show of force. To gleefully rake in a huge mound of them when they won. To slam
them on the table, if need be. No, scores on paper would not do.)
They cast about hither and thither trying to find a substitute. Cans of beans would not work,
too few and too big. Pebbles from the beach would not work; too easy to get. Fishing hooks would
not work. etc., etc.
What they needed was something that was visible, tangible, durable, discreetly divided into
units, not too big and not too small. Something of which many could be held in the hand at one time,
and could be manipulated easily, possibly put in one's pocket.
Finally, they discovered that one of them, Bob, had brought a huge sack of nuts, peanuts, to be
exact. He was addicted to eating them as snacks. He knew that no one else liked them, so he brought
enough of them for himself to last for two weeks, and perhaps a little extra just to be sure.
Everyone instantly recognized that Bob's nuts was the perfect substitute, or at least as good as
they were likely to find under the circumstances. They were the right size, sufficient in number, and
there was no other source of supply. Everyone immediately began to make suggestions about how
they could use Bob's nuts as tokens of exchange.
Only Bob failed to join in the enthusiasm with which the others hailed the resolution to their
problem. He did not say anything against the idea because he didn't want to spoil the fun for everyone
else. And, he wanted to enjoy the camaraderie of the game as well himself. But he could see where
this line of reasoning led. At the very least, he was going to have to sacrifice his nuts.
Bob was caught in a dilemma, a conflict between two courses of action, either of which would
lead to unpleasant consequences. On one hand he would have to sacrifice his nuts, and the personal
pleasure which they might provide to him during the entire time they continued to play the game.
This personal sacrifice would be compensated for to some extent by the social pleasure he would gain
by being a participant in the game. On the other hand, if he refused to sacrifice his nuts and the personal pleasure which they could provide to him, he would suffer the social ostracism, the outrage at
his selfish attitude, which was sure to descend on his head for ruining the game for everyone else and
depriving them of their pleasure
242
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Symbolism
Everyone, of course, knew that Bob faced this dilemma, and spoke to him encouragingly.
That is, encouraging him to make the sacrifice. “The game is the thing,” someone said. “All for one
and one for all”, said another. “Good old Bob,” a third one said. “He is a guy you can always count
on,” for that is exactly what they were planning to do. Well, as one might expect, as usually happens,
Bob knuckled under to the wishes of the group.
They had the something¹ they needed to effect the substitution, but they were not finished
establishing everything that was needed to put the substitutive system to work in service of the game
of poker. They had accepted the principle of exchange and had decided on a medium of embodiment,
but that was not enough. They also had to establish a system of laws by which to govern the
exchange. Before they could start to play the game, it would be necessary for them to exchange the
money which they already had for the nuts which they did not have. Then they could use the nuts as
symbols of exchange during the course of play, exchanging these symbols according to the regulations of the game. During the weeks of the holiday they would keep their own nuts in their own care
from day to day, some players winning and some loosing, and at the end of the game, they would
want to exchange the nuts which they still had back into money. And presumably they might also
want to exchange during the course of the game.
This is perhaps a little confusing, so let me try to clarify it. We have two systems of exchange
in view here, two market places1. Market² is inside the game of poker, where tokens of value are
exchanged during the course of play under the government of the laws of the game. In the game the
tokens of value will be nuts: they will bet nuts, they will win nuts, and they will loose nuts. In the
context of the game, nuts is money.
Market¹ is outside of the game and contains it. In market¹ there is another system of exchange
where money and nuts are exchanged. This system must be set up and begin to operate prior to the
game, and be continued after the game, and even possibly, during the game.
The rules of poker, which govern market² were established prior to this situation, but now that
they have resolved to use nuts to represent money, they need to establish rules to govern the exchange
of nuts for money and money for nuts. Since Bob is an honest guy, and the nuts are his, they designate him to be the banker, the one who keeps the supply of nuts and who controls the exchange and
who is in charge of the money that has been exchanged for nuts during the course of play. They
decide that the rate of exchange will be ten nuts to one dollar.
However, as trustworthy as Bob might be, he could easily take some nuts from the bag of nuts
under his control and use them illegitimately for money. So they decide that they would all feel more
comfortable if Bob made an effort to keep the bag of nuts in plain sight of everyone so that no one can
manipulate their currency illegitimately to their own advantage.
Now they are ready, so they all buy some nuts, including Bob, and they start to play. The nuts
work out just fine. There is winning and loosing. They are filled with joy when they win nuts and they
grieve when they loose nuts. They count their nuts carefully. They find safe places to keep their nuts
when they are not playing poker and some decided to take their nuts with them in the boat when they
went fishing, just for peace of mind. After a while, nuts begin to take on the value of money, and were
accordingly treated like money, not like nuts. Nuts became money within this limited context.
1. Actually three systems of exchange, for there is the prior marketplace, the place where one can exchange money for
apples, clothes, and automobiles. This is the market in which the value of money is located.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
243
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
After a week or so, another friend, who had been delayed by his job, showed up. He got something do drink and sat next to a small table on which there sat a coffee can full of nuts, so he unthinkingly picked up a handful of them and started shelling them and eating them. The person to whom
those particular nuts belonged, a big winner, did not notice at first that his money was being eaten.
The others gleefully watched his fortune being eaten up and were eagerly waiting to see how he
reacted when he noticed what was going on. When he finally did notice, before he realized what he
was saying he blurted,
Don't eat my money!... Don't eat my nuts... They aren't really nuts...
Here, in the conflict between the point of view of an outsider and the point of view of an insider, the
deviance from reality of the symbolic point of view becomes strikingly evident. The outsider, looking
from the point of view of universe¹, takes the nuts naturally as something to eat, which they are. The
insider, from the point of view of universe², thinks the nuts are money, which they are not. In universe², nuts are not nuts. Nuts are money.
And lets not forget Bob, for he represents the ordinary person. The nuts were his from the
beginning and were really his during the game and were to have reverted to him after the game ass
over. But when they got caught up as representative tokens in the game, they ceased to be his in the
sense that he was no longer free to do with them as he wished. The demand of the group took priority
over his wishes. So in a sense the nuts were taken away from him, even though they remained in his
possession, because in the context of universe² he held them not as Bob the nut-eater, but as Bob the
banker.
Further, he is not only the original owner of the nuts, now transformed into the keeper of the
nuts, but he is also a player in the game. As a player in the game, he must buy his own nuts from himself, using his own money, so that he can transact with them in a third sense. Thus one can see how
submitting something of one's resources to be used symbolically entails the sacrifice of those
resources and divides one up into at least three different roles in relation to those resources.
Addendum: Tulip Bulbs as Money
Confusions of value like the above happen in what is commonly taken to be the real world
more than we might think. Consider the following example that is supposed to have really happened
as recounted by John Bollinger (Bollinger Capital Management, “Capital Growth Topics #122:
Grains!!!”, Published electronically on April 29, 1996 and broadcast by DBC data management system.)
This morning the rally in the grains made it onto National Public Radio where a bite of the noise in the Kansas
City grain pits was aired and a good solid swipe taken at the farm bill as if it had caused the rally. I am not certain
whether that broadcast marked the top or not, but there is sufficient reason to be suspicious.
We often take a contrarian approach to the markets here, as typified by the work of Humphrey Neil. Mr. Neil was
a great observer of crowds and he knew something crowds that seems to get lost these days. Namely that a crowd
can be right—perhaps for a long time. Thus it is not sufficient to identify a crowd and take an opposing position.
One has to wait for the crowd to hold an incorrect opinion, and then for a trigger to cause a reversal. For example,
in late 1982 nearly everyone turned bullish and correctly so. It was many months and many points before a top
was put in. Ultimately it was a rise in interest rates that triggered the ensuing decline, but not for many months
after the top had been reached.
244
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Euphemism
The basic tenant of contrarian opinion is that the majority will be wrong. But it is not sufficient to identify a
widely held opinion, it must be a widely held erroneous opinion. Even then there is the additional requirement—
something must trigger a reversal. It is said that in the great Dutch tulip craze a seaman who had been away
for years and knew nothing of the madness called tulipomania returned from a voyage. While waiting to
report to the master he plucked a tulip bulb valued at more than $10,000 from the master’s desk and,
thinking it was an onion, ate it. Thus was the bubble punctured. In retrospect it seems obvious that a tulip
bulb was not worth that amount. However in the heat of the craze they were meant to be traded not eaten,
and in the eating the veil was lifted.
Euphemism
In common usage there seems to be some confusion about the relationship between euphemism, the subject of this section, and indirect speech, which is to be the subject of the next section.
However, they are quite distinct in principle, for, although they are related, they refer to different
parts of the dynamic of substitution: euphemism refers to a motive for substitution and indirect
speech refers to the strategy of vicarious duplicity. So the same phenomena can be both euphemistic
and indirect. To be more exact, all euphemism is indirect, but not all indirectness is euphemistic.
Another difference in common usage: the term euphemism tends to be used more in reference to
word level phenomena and indirect speech to sentence level phenomena. But as we are interested in
these concepts only as a means of organizing our exploration of examples of the duplicity of language, we need not be bothered by a little incoherence in categorization. In this section we will focus
on the formal consequences of the euphemistic motive for substitution and in the next we will focus
on the strategic motives for non-euphemistic substitutive indirectness.
The word 'euphemism' was borrowed from Greek, where it meant 'good speech'. My dictionary defines it as follows:
1. The substitution of an inoffensive term for one considered offensively explicit. 2. The term thus substituted;
“Euphemisms such as 'slumber room'... abound in the funeral business.” (Jessica Mitford)
Let us begin by illustrating the structure of duplicity in terms of the above quoted example. Universe¹
is the level of usage where the words 'death' and 'slumber' are used literally. In universe¹ there is also
a prohibition against speaking of death. In conflict with this prohibition, someone¹ wants to speak of
death. This conflict is what motivates someone¹ to seek a substitution for the prohibited word. When
casting about for suitable substitutive alternatives, one's mind naturally flows along the lines of associative similarity, where it soon comes upon the similarity between sleep and death. This natural
iconic similarity provides the pretext which motivates someone¹ to choose terms of sleep as substitutes for terms of death, in this case 'slumber room' for 'death room'. In this way the superficial form
of the speech of someone¹ does not violate the prohibition and yet it indirectly conveys the prohibited
meaning. This permits a someone² to see only sleep in the scene portrayed by the language of someone¹, and yet to be secretly aware that it is death behind the facade. In this way, the desire of someone¹ to speak of death was satisfied without overtly violating the prohibition. Through the devise of
substitution someone¹ both obeyed and disobeyed.
In some ways euphemism is similar to metaphor. They are similar in that both use associative
similarity as the link between the prior and the subsequent. But they are totally different in motive.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
245
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
Metaphor is creative, whereas euphemism is obsequious. The force of metaphor is that of self expression. The force of euphemism is duplicitous evasion whereby one seeks both to obey and to disobey,
and in fact succeeds in doing neither. Metaphor violates and sacrifices language to the higher demand
of vitality. Euphemism also violates and sacrifices language, but as a means of compromise.
“Good speech” can mean so many different things. It could mean true speech, or persuasive
speech, or clear speech, or entertaining speech, or beautiful speech, or respectful speech. But what it
has come to mean in practice, in the case of “euphemism”, is speech that is obedient to the dictates of
social fashion as to what is proper and what is not. In other words, it is an instrument through which
society induces people to obey its dictates and submit to its world view. It is an instrument of control
through the repression and distortion and distraction of natural urges, as we will see shortly. I think it
is the unconscious realization of this tyrannical quality of euphemistic language which has induced a
countervailing trend of intentionally obscene and impolite speech in our society.
I suppose it is necessary to state that I do not condone totally free speech as the antidote to
euphemistic repression. Politeness and consideration of others are natural to an extent. Even animals
have certain rites that govern their interactions with each other. But there is a time for politeness and
delicacy, and there is a time for crude and brutal bluntness. And what the rebels do not realize is that
those who oppose a stupid dictate of language are governed by that dictate just as much as those who
obey it. “I am against him”, is ambiguous between a friendly apposition and a hostile opposition.
The Dynamics and Formal Mechanism of Euphemism
The formal manifestations of euphemism are various. The basic process underlying euphemism is ellipsis. When a person is being careful of his speech, before he says something aloud, it
comes up before his mind's eye for review. If his censor considers it to be offensive, it is not permitted to be spoken aloud. In this way the natural expression of himself as it evolves from a spontaneous
urge to a fully matured manifestation, in the form of language in this case, is interrupted. It is not that
the form of his expression never existed. The form has to exist, for it is the linguistic form that is
reviewed by the censor. It is not the urge, or the intent that is censored, but the form. Both the urge
and the form that the urge has taken exist prior to the ellipsis, and they are still there after the ellipsis.
It is only the overt performance of the speech act that is inhibited. Or as we would say in terms of
generative linguistic theory, euphemistic ellipsis is late in the ordering of syntactic transformations.
Psychologically speaking, this superficial ellipsis is the mechanism of what Freud called
“repression”. In fact, he defined it in the same way, as a prohibition against the overt verbalization of
forbidden impulses. According to Freud, this prohibition, and its formal instrument, ellipsis, is the
mechanism that creates and sustains the division between conscious and unconscious sectors of the
mind, for the unconscious is the collection of forbidden urges embodied in their unborn linguistic
forms. In his theory of psycho dynamics, although these repressed forms disappear from consciousness, that is, from the prescribed social dialogue, they do not become extinct. On the contrary, ellipsis
is too superficial to totally curtail the urge. It cuts the branches, but leaves the root intact. And the
effect is not to eliminate the urge, but to dam it up, and make it more powerful, and cause it to seek
other routes by which it might make itself manifest.
In this way, the euphemistic inhibition of the act sets in motion the dynamic of euphemistic
substitution. The urge and the unspoken form are not annihilated; they are restrained, just as the dove
246
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Euphemism
is restrained. The urge thus frustrated strives to manifest itself all the more energetically, and in doing
so the form of the urge becomes more or less radically transformed. Or, in more graphic terms, the
form becomes more or less violently distorted and mutilated in the conflict.
In the extreme of euphemistic ellipsis, the distortion of the censured form does not show up on
the surface of language, because nothing at all is overtly manifest of the repressed urge. For example,
suppose a person is suddenly exposed to the overpoweringly bad breath of his boss. Perhaps he involuntarily backs away while his reaction begins to form itself on his lips something like this.
Whew! Your breath is enough to gag a dead dog!
Perhaps he is quick witted enough to completely squelch his spontaneous verbalization, in which case
there would be no overt distortion in the flow of their dialogue. His abrupt withdrawal would then be
the only sign of distortion, but that would not be a linguistic sign.
However, very often, especially where there are sudden and powerful forces at work, or when
the censor is not very alert, at least part of the verbal response comes out before one realizes that it
would not be a good thing to say in the present context. If he manages to stop himself soon enough he
might be able to cover up his intent with a more or less appropriate substitute continuation like this.
Whew! Your.... absolutely right!
Here we can see euphemistic distortion in the sentence right on the surface. First, the end of the first
sentence is torn off and a different ending is grafted on. It happens in this example that the first and
second parts of the sentence grammatically fit pretty well, in spite of the fact that “your” is not grammatically equivalent to “you're”. But aside from grammatical coherence, it is almost impossible that
the two parts would fit smoothly together in every respect. Even though I have made this example
quite harmonious appearing, the emotional energy of the first part would be inappropriate for the second part. Thus at the least, the speed, rhythm, and intonation of the sentence would be distorted. In
addition, the informal tone of “Whew” is not consistent with a subordinate's approbation of his superior.
Second, there is almost always a gap between the two parts; there is a period of silence after
the first sentence is cut off, which is the time it takes the speaker to formulate a suitable substitute.
This gap is another kind of distortion of the form of the sentence in the sense that it is unmotivated
grammatically or semantically. That is, it deviates from the grammatical and semantic standards of
well formedness.
Given the principle that euphemistic substitution induces distortion in the form of language,
then by reversing this principle we can derive another. When one encounters distortion in the form of
a linguistic act, or any other for that matter, that distortion is a diagnostic symptom of euphemistic
substitution. This can be interpreted in a perfectly general way as the fundamental principle which
governs all of language. It is the desire to substitute something good for something bad which motivates language in the first place. And, conversely, everything that is considered to be good in language results from a distortion of the prior. Or in other words, in language goodness is a function of
deviance. This is the conclusion that euphemism leads us to, and thus the analysis of euphemism supports the general theoretical argument being put forth here.
But we must not allow the force of our argument rest on one or two examples. Let us go on in
the light of this general analysis of the dynamics and mechanisms of euphemism to consider a variety
of examples.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
247
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
Various Examples of Euphemistic Distortion.
Perhaps we should begin our survey of examples by returning to consider the stereotypical
ideal kind of euphemism that was exemplified in the dictionary quotation above, where “slumber
room” is used euphemistically in the place of something more blunt like “death room”. The ordinary
person would not ordinarily consider this to be deviant or distorted. He would transact so automatically, unconsciously making the appropriate grammatical and semantic calculations, that it would not
register in his consciousness as remarkable in any way. Or if it occurred to him that it might be
slightly deviant, it would be considered to be a harmless kind of deviance, in the same category as the
“white lie”: it would be considered to be an innocent, and moreover a socially condoned, perhaps
even a conventionalized, distortion.
This is, of course, the socially predominant linguistically naive point of view, which is what
led the people who wrote the dictionary to choose this particular example out of the millions they
might have chosen. From our linguistically sophisticated point of view it does not matter if it is a
white or black lie. It does not matter if it is an innocent and harmless distortion. It does not matter if it
is socially condoned or socially condemned. And it does not matter if it is a single isolated example,
the conventional practice of one single individual, a particular sub-group of a society, a whole society, or even of all societies.
The technical issue is this: is it a duplicity? It is deviant? Is it a distortion? Is it violent? And
the answer is unequivocally, yes, to all of these questions. Then, after we have seen the true nature of
euphemistic phoneme, we can ask the secondary questions of whether it is a white or black duplicity,
whether it is pathologically deviant, whether it is innocent violence. If we were to judge this single
example in isolation, we would have to conclude that it is indeed a trivial violence. But it should be
obvious by now that it would be a great mistake to consider this example in isolation.1 To get a realistic idea, one must weigh the systemic duplicity, deviance, distortion, and violence of language as a
whole.
In this case, there are two kinds of isolation. As I mentioned this example should not be considered by itself. And, secondly, a lexical euphemism such as this would never be used in isolation. It
would always appear in a larger context. When one considers these lexical euphemisms in their natural context, the distortion becomes much more evident. To set the prior standard frame of reference,
let us suppose that the origin of this euphemism arose from a hypothetical offensive interaction such
as the following.
The widow: (Appearing at the funeral home to attend to her dead husband.)
The funeral director: The body is laying in the death room.
Instead of this blunt statement, the funeral director would say something like this:
Your loved one is in the slumber room.
On the face of it this seems like it is just as coherent as the prior sentence. But in the first sentence the
choice of the expression “the body” as opposed to the more usual “Mr. Smith” or “your husband” is
appropriate because it implies that the subject of the sentence is no longer “Mr. Smith” nor “your hus1. Freud said that isolation is the essential defensive technique which insulates duplicity from discovery. Another example of “divide and conquer”.
248
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Euphemism
band”. It implies that the subject is not a person, but a body, i.e. a dead person. Thus the fact that the
subject is located in the death room is consistent. However, the second sentence is not only at odds
with the truth, but it is also internally inconsistent. There is no semantic connection between the fact
that the subject is loved and the fact that he is located in the sleeping room. There is no motivation for
mentioning either fact, nor for connecting them in one sentence, except the unifying fact that he is
dead. Thus even such a seemingly innocent euphemism, is in fact a distorted representation of the
prior suppressed sentence.
A slightly more explicit distortion can be seen in the following mundane example, which was
actually said by one of my children.
The dog went to the bathroom under the table.
Of course one can calculate the meaning of this sentence quite easily, but that does not alter the fact
that it is an extremely complex agglomeration of euphemistic distortions. Does “bathroom” mean a
room in which there is a bath or a room in which one urinates? It would seem that in either case, there
must be a room of some kind under the table. But of course, in this case, the word “room” does not
refer to a room at all. And the dog did not “go” anyplace.
Moving on to a different kind of euphemistic process, there is a kind of euphemistic pronominalization. In speaking we sometimes substitute a pronoun for a forbidden noun for euphemistic reasons and not for reasons of anaphora. For example, “Eat it” in adolescent English means “eat shit”.
“Doing it” means “fucking”. The general semantic rule that emerges from such examples, in accord
with the above mentioned principle, is that any grammatically unmotivated pronoun is to be interpreted as having a bad referent.
Similarly, in the expression, “We went all the way”, the grammatically obligatory adverb of
place is not pronominalized, but is just left unsaid. In accord with the rule for interpreting deviance,
the resulting vagueness is to be filled in with some forbidden subject. In this case, it means “we went
all the way to the end of the sequence of forbidden things”, hence it means, “we fucked”.
A similar example is this: “I have to go” which is derived by euphemistic ellipsis from “I have
to go to the bathroom” which is itself a euphemism. “Go” then means “do number one or number
two” which is a euphemism for “urinate or defecate”, which is a euphemism for “piss or shit”.
This brings us to another family of euphemistic substitutions, namely, euphemistic foreignization. This is a very interesting topic, which I would like to explore further, but to do it justice would
require a whole book of its own. And, as euphemistic foreignization is a diagnostic feature of high
class English, it is familiar enough that we can make the point that is relevant here by connecting the
euphemistic motive with the mechanism of substituting foreign words for native English words.
The point is that foreign words imported into English as substitutes for native words are originally secondary, and they remain secondary. Being originally they fulfill the requirement of secondariness that any substitute must have and so they remain secondary in performing that function. They
do not hold equal standing in the lexical structure of English with native words, but comprise a complex sub-system of alienated representations which remain systematically exceptional to the canonical form of native words. “Intestines” functions as a euphemistic substitute for “guts” precisely
because it does not have the associative force of the native English word. And its multi-syllabic form,
as distinct from the typical mono-syllabic form of native words, marks it as an alien word. This is in
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
249
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
exact accord with our fundamental hypothesis that the linguistically naive world view is driven by the
assumption that what is first is bad and what is second (= other = alien) is good.
I would like to mention parenthetically, that this particular euphemistic mechanism seems to
be more common among the languages of the world than could be attributed to accident. To cite a
few examples consider the following. In relation to English, it is primarily Latin and French which
play the role of the other whose words are considered better than our own native words. For the
French, it is of course Latin. For the Romans it was Greek. And for the Greeks it was Egyptian. In a
similar way, for Christians in English society, Latin is superior to English, Greek is superior to Latin,
and Hebrew is superior to Greek. Moving to a different linguistic theater, for Tibetans, Burmese,
Thais, Laos, and Cambodians, it is Sanskrit that fulfills the role of the superior other language. For
most Indonesians it was Sanskrit, but now it is Arabic, except in Bali.1 For the Vietnamese and Japanese it is Chinese.
I suggest that the reason this phenomenon is so wide spread is that it is a function of natural
psychological processes which are inherent in the logic of interpersonal and cultural development. In
particular, this phenomenon is a manifestation of what Freud called “secondary identification”, as
distinct from the kind of primary narcissistic identification which we discussed briefly above.2 This
second identification, or as we might say in the present context, secondary duplicity, is when the
child identifies with a powerful and dangerous other whom he feels he must conciliate in order to
avoid being harmed and to gain favor. In the case of a child, this role is ordinarily played by the
father. In the case of cultural development, it is played by a neighboring culture that is militarily
and/or intellectually dominant. In the case of English, this secondary identification took place during
the period of several hundred years when French speaking Normans were the dominant social force
in England.
In the other cases I have cited, there were similar intercultural relationships. The Japanese, for
example, at the point in history when their culture was beginning to emerge as a coherent social unity,
when they first looked at themselves from the point of view of the other, the predominant other in
their case was the Chinese. At that time Chinese culture was already extremely sophisticated, intellectually superior, militarily superior, and superior in every other way. The Japanese recognized the
superiority of Chinese culture and they thus became foreigners in relation to Chinese culture. They
went there in droves to study the alien superior language and culture, and they brought back the
knowledge of what they thought was superior about Chinese, and they proceeded to incorporate it in
the framework of Japanese culture. Thus Japanese government and less official social regulations
imitated the Confucian idea of social order. The Chinese version of Buddhism, Zen Buddhism, was
imported and had a tremendous social impact, although it never was the religion of the masses.
Indeed, just as it was originally the religion of the external superior, when it was imported it remained
1. By the way, Arabic is unusual in being a socially powerful language which does not exhibit this phenomenon. Presumably this is because its power flows from the Koran and the other teachings of Mohammad, which are written in Arabic. One could make the case that Arabic is now in the process of incorporating English as the superior other. Also, I
believe Chinese has little systematic foreignization. As did German, until World War II.
2. Freud defined “identification” as a kind of incorporation, or eating, or embodiment. Consider this process in the context of the analysis of incorporation above. The first identification is an imaginary incorporation of the image of the
mother, the second identification is a symbolic incorporation of the symbolic father. In the logic of language, one can
control the other by symbolic means through becoming him symbolically. This phenomenon is seen overtly in the
“Stockholm syndrome”, where captives identify with their captors.
250
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Euphemism
the religion of the internal superior, i.e. politically, intellectually, or militarily superior classes. Along
with Zen the Japanese borrowed the characteristic Zen approach to art in painting, architecture, ceremonial gardens, martial arts, etc. Even the Tea Ceremony was borrowed. This is not to belittle the
Japanese contribution to these dimensions of art, for no one can seriously doubt the genuine creativity
of their Zen art. But it is, just the same, a world view which they learned about from the Chinese.
And, finally, at the core of this incorporation of the superior other is language: The Japanese writing
system was borrowed from Chinese, as were something over half of its vocabulary.
The Euphemistic Mutilation of Phonological Form
There is a system of phonological euphemization in English that I think is particularly revealing in regard to the dynamics and formal machinery of euphemism. The ordinary linguistically naive
speaker is almost entirely unaware of this system, and as far as I am aware, it has barely been noticed
by linguists. It would be inappropriate here to comprehensively explore this system, so I will consider
one example in depth and point out some of the outer dimensions of the system.
As a member of modern American society, I have had occasion to interact with a variety of
people who try to be obedient to what they consider to be the laws of Christianity. One of the things
that they are concerned with is good speech. Of course, they strive to avoid obscenity, as do we all,
and they also strive to avoid blasphemy. I have observed a striking kind of euphemism in the speech
of these people which arises from their desire to obey the prohibition against blasphemy, as they conceive of it.
In their desire to avoid forbidden expressions, it is common for these people to use what they
consider to be mild and meaningless expletives such as “gosh”, “golly”, “gee”, “dang”, “darn”, etc.
This practice however is nothing more than a hypocritical euphemistic duplicity, which they permit
themselves to believe so that they can violate their own prohibitions under the facade of piety.
If one looks in many ordinary dictionaries such “informal” words are not even listed, and
when they are listed, they are often defined vaguely as “mild expletive”. The Oxford English Dictionary, however, clearly defines each of them as a “perversion” or “substitute”, for “God” and “damn”.
No doubt these people would argue in their defense that just because a dictionary says that “golly”
came from the word “god”, that does not make it so, and even if it were so, a person cannot be held
accountable for being aware of every little detail, and what is more an ordinary person cannot be
expected to know what words meant way back in history. One might be inclined to accept such a
defense if it were not for the fact that these people do not normally consider the matter of blasphemy
to be a minor detail. It is an issue into which they invest a lot of energy and with respect to which they
condemn other people and act as if they were holier because they say “golly” instead of “God”.
Furthermore, I do not buy the claim that these substitutions are dead historical events nor do I
buy the claim that an ordinary person could not possibly be aware of the original meaning of these
words. Once again, it is true that if one considers these terms in isolation, it is easier to persuade oneself that they really are meaningless inventions like “jabberwocky” or “gobbeldy gook”. However, if
one takes the trouble to consider them systematically, it is perfectly obvious that they are euphemistic
transformations of forbidden expressions.
Let us take the forbidden expression, “God damn it”, which is held by these people to be a
particularly objectionable invective. There are numerous euphemistic transformations of this form,
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
251
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
which are known to any normal English speaking person. The following variations show a relatively
small degree of mutation.
Gosh darn it
Gol dang it
Only the syllable final consonants in the offensive words are slightly altered. In the first, the [d] of
“god” becomes [š] and the [m] of “damn” = [dam] becomes [rn]. In the second, the [d] becomes [l]
and the [m] becomes [ng].
A much more radically mutated example is
Dag nab it.
Here the euphemistic substitute for “God” has been derived by reversing the order of the consonants,
together with a change in the quality of the vowel. The substitute for “damn” was derived by a metathesis of the nasality, but with retention of the point of articulation, of the consonants of “damn”.
That is, the initial dental stop [d] becomes a dental nasal [n], and the final labial nasal [m] becomes a
labial stop [b].
An even more radically mutated substitute is
Dog gone it.
This variant also offers the added advantage that, although it appears to be as meaningless as the
above variants, the mutilated forms coincidentally look like existing words. Thus one can flesh out
the pretense that it is not a substitute for “God damn it” by pretending that it has something to do with
dogs being gone. In other words, the fact that these mutilated forms look like existing words helps to
disguise its origin.
We can represent the structure of these examples as follows.
In this situation, something1 is the form “God damn it” and there are several something2s which are
derived from it by the various processes of phonological mutilation. Thus someone1 can substitute
any of the various forms of something1, and since it appears on the surface to be unrelated to the
original forbidden expression, he can hold it forth to someone², which is the persona of his own hypocritical self, as well as any one else who conspires with him in giving credibility to the duplicitous
view of universe².
The most unfortunate dimension of this situation is that in struggling with the superficial prohibition of law², and the superficial duplicity it engenders, whether one obeys it or flaunts it, one gets
caught up in a struggle that is contained in a more subtle duplicity. There is a law¹ prior to the above
mentioned Law². In fact, Law² is a misunderstanding of the intent of law¹ in regard to the name of
God. If we take God as the first first, then we can say that it is not a particular pronunciation of the
name of the first first that is prohibited but the fact of naming the first first. That is, where law² says
that you should not do something, law¹ says that you cannot do something. Just as you cannot walk
on water, you cannot name the first first.
Moses asked God what his name was and God said something that is physically unpronounceable -YWH - and which meant “I am”. Therefore, the point of the commandment that says “Thou
shalt not take the name of the lord thy God in vain” is not that one should not pronounce the name of
God, for that is impossible. Nor does it mean that one should not say the word “God”. It means that
252
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Euphemism
FIGURE 30.
Euphemistic Phonological Mutilation
Dog gone it
Dag nab it
Gol dang it
Gosh darn it
2
Universe - Legal Fiction
You should not say “God damn it"
Universe1 - Legal Reality - Realm of Conventional Law
You cannot name the first first
The Universe - Real Reality - Realm of Natural Law
one who is not “I am” should not call himself “I am”, for to do so would be to attribute being to nonbeing. That is, this law¹ is not about crime, it is a law about error. The point is that it is an error to
think that an unnamed someone is the same as someone¹ and that they both are the same as someone².
And it is another error to think that you can represent the prior someone in the same sense as you can
represent a something¹ by a something². Thus “God damn it” is not wrong so much because it is blasphemy, as because it misses the point.1 And if “God damn it” misses the point, then “Gosh darn it”
misses the universe in which the point exists. Both someone¹ and someone² are concerned with the
superficial problem of good language vs. bad language, when the deep problem is language per se.
The gross duplicity of the euphemistic structure is contained in the much more subtle duplicity of language itself.
A Justification of the Term “Mutilation”
Perhaps some readers are troubled by my persistence in using radical terminology such as
“violence” and “mutilation” in reference to trivial linguistic phenomena that are conventionally
thought of, when they are thought of at all, in more neutral terms such as “change” or “variation” or
“transformation”. My choice of terminology is intentional, and it is integral to the force of the argument. In the present argument terminology is not just an instrument which we are using to get at
something else. Here the issue is terminology itself. Does “representation” intrinsically mean “mis1. By the way, according to my dictionary the Hebrew word for “sin” is from the root, (in transliteration) chââ’, which
means “to miss”. The Greek word for “sin” is, (in transliteration) hamartan, meaning “to miss the mark” or “to miss
the point”.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
253
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
representation”, or is just a coincidence? Is language intrinsically duplicitous, or is its doubleness
coincidentally related to its misleading character? Is the relation of secondness of which language is
constructed a natural relation, or is it artificial? Are the two phases of the situation in language related
like phases of the weather? Or are they related as the true to the false, the real to the imaginary? If the
former were the case, if the two phases were equally natural, then we could accurately refer to this
relationship as “change” or “variation”.
But they are not equally natural. This is the crux of the point here. And to comply with the
conventional point of view in using conventional terminology vitiates the point. The second is second
in the sense that it comes into being through a transformation that violates the nature and the law of
the prior, hence a violent transformation. And since the purpose of this violent transformation is to
remove the identifying marks of the prior - to twist, distort, or deform the prior - it is precisely a
mutation. To call once again on the extremity of the language of Jacques Lacan:
the symbol manifests itself first of all as the murder of the thing (p. 104)
One of the reasons we do not appreciate this phenomenon as a mutilating violence is because
it is conventionally approved violence. It is legal violence. In other words, one is free to use violence,
but only when it is conventionally condoned. Social institutions, including language, arrogate to
themselves the authority to use violence. And, what is most important, from the point of view of the
subsequent, the violent is not considered to be violent. That is, something² is not seen in universe² as
a mutation of something¹, for the awareness of someone² is limited to universe², which excludes an
awareness of something¹ as something¹. From the point of view of universe² there is no violation of
the nature of something¹ and no violation of the law¹ of universe¹. In the normal course of events, a
normal person is not aware of this violence.
However one can gain a feeling for the sense of violence in these phenomena by playing with
it in ways that are not conventionally condoned. Under these circumstances, one can readily see that
when there is no conventional sanction we cannot freely violate even something as trivial as the phonological forms of language. Consider the force of the punitive reaktion that is provolked when
someone violates the language by mispelling a word, for examble. The violence of the reaction is all
out of proportion to the actual harm caused by the trivial violation of spelling rules. In this case, there
is really no harm at all, because the misspellings do not materially effect the communicative function;
one can interpret every word perfectly. Indeed the rigidity with which we normally conform to the
laws of form in language is truly obsessive.
This force of social sanction can also be readily mobilized by mispronunciation, misnaming,
incorrect morphological construction, syntactic incorrectness, etc. For example, in computer English
the name of the predominant computer operating system is DOS, an acronym which according to
English spelling rules could be pronounced to rhyme with “most” or with “moss”. It happens that one
of these alternatives has been arbitrarily chosen as the prescribed standard and computer people react
to the other with a force that is inversely proportional to the degree of justification for choosing one
over the other. Or, try saying “Dag roming” instead of “Good morning” and see how far you get. In
view of the obsessive rigidity with which the rules of language are normally enforced, the notion that
“Dag nab it” could be considered to be some sort of free-floating change, like the change of weather,
a kind of change that does not necessitate the violation of laws would be ludicrous if it were not so
serious.
254
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Euphemism
It is the force of conventional presupposition that precludes us from seeing these phenomena.
But that does not mean they are not there. Speaking in regard to phonology alone, there is a vast
unconscious world of imaginary and symbolic relationships which governs our thinking and speaking
in myriad detailed ways of which we are usually entirely unaware.1 We saw above in the case of the
rat man how higher level symbolic structure follows the lines of the prior structure of phonological
associations of similarity and contiguity That is, words that sound like “rat” become salient in his
efforts to construct a rat identity, and thus become incorporated in the structure of his mythological
rat persona. This is essentially the process of naive, or folk etymology.
Of course, in terms of the folk theory of language one is inclined to isolate such examples, setting them apart from the sphere of ordinary language, under the assumption that the conceptual
machinery of pathological language is different from ordinary language. However, in the present context that barrier of isolation is undermined, for we are claiming that all language is pathological.
Freud addressed this barrier long ago in his most popular book, The Psychopathology of Everyday
Life, in which he gathered together numerous examples to show that the same processes are at work
in normal people that are at work in abnormal people. That book cites numerous examples that illustrate the extent to which mental processes are a function of trivial phonological similarities and contiguities. Indeed, the literature of psychoanalysis is can be seen from the linguistic point of view as a
vast compendium of such phenomena. But in pursuing our discussion of euphemistic mutilation so
far, we have strayed from the area of euphemistic phonological processes into the area of phonology
in general. Thus instead of discussing a large quantity of examples of phonological mutilation, I will
close the justification for using the term “mutilation” by citing two examples that I think are of exceptionally forceful quality as examples of phonological mutilation.
The two examples I have in mind were described by Freud in his two major case studies: the
first is from the case of the Wolf Man (vol. XVII); the second is the case of the Rat Man (vol. X),
whose rat economy we touched upon above. As both examples are complex and deeply embedded in
the bizarre world view of these individuals, it would be impossible to fully lay out all of the specific
facts and lines of reasoning which underlies these phonological analyses. For that one must consult
the original case studies.
Let me cite these examples first as described by Lacan in his essay on the “Function and field
of speech and language”.
language is not immaterial. It is a subtle body, but body it is. Words are trapped in all the corporeal images that
captivate the subject…2
What is more, words themselves can undergo symbolic lesions and accomplish imaginary acts of which the
patient is the subject. You will remember the Wespe (wasp), castrated of its initial W to become the S. P. of the
Wolf Man's initials at the moment when he realizes the symbolic punishment whose object he was on the part of
Grusha, the wasp.
You will remember also the S that constitutes the residue of the hermetic formula into which the conjuratory
invocations of the Rat Man became condensed after Freud had extracted the anagram of the name of his beloved
from its cipher, and which, tacked on to the final 'amen' of his jaculatory prayer, externally floods the lady’s
name with the symbolic ejection of his impotent desire. (p. 87, my emphasis)
1. See Jakobson (1979) for a detailed discussion of sound symbolism, synesthesia, verbal taboo, etc.
2. Consider the relationship between “body” and “corporeal” in the sense intended here and the concept of the corporation discussed above.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
255
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
In the first example, Lacan is referring to the following passage in Freud's analysis of the Wolf Man.
He confirmed the connection between the Grusha scene and the threat of castration by a particularly ingenious
dream, which he himself succeeded in deciphering. 'I had a dream,' he said, 'of a man tearing off the wings of an
Espe.' “Espe?' I asked; 'What do you mean by that?' 'You know; that insect with yellow stripes on its body, that
stings.' I could now put him right: 'So what you mean is a Wespe [wasp].' 'Is it called a Wespe? I really thought it
was called an Espe.' (Like so many other people, he used his difficulties with a foreign language as a screen for
his symptomatic acts.) 'But Espe, why, that's myself: S.P.' (which were his initials). The Espe was of course a
mutilated Wespe. (vol. XVII, p. 94)
In the second example, Lacan is referring to an expression which had become conventionalized in the
speech of the Rat Man, described by Freud thus:
When he first masturbated he had an idea that it would result in an injury to someone he was fond of (his cousin).
He therefore pronounced a protective formula constructed... from various short prayers and fitted with an isolated 'amen'. We examined it. It was Glejisamen. (vol X, p. 280)
This formula, “Glejisamen”, like “Dag nab it”, is as meaningless on the surface in German as it is in
English. And the patient himself was only able to give vague and improbable suggestions as to its
interpretation. However, this is another example which shows that isolating a linguistic phenomenon
from its context contributes to the maintenance of its veil of confusion, and that if one considers even
such a seemingly meaningless bit of language as this in the larger dialogical context, it can sometimes
reveal connections that provide the key to unraveling the knot and dispelling the fog. What makes
this example particularly interesting is that through the course of his analysis of this patient Freud
was able to gather together enough details of the patients dialogical context, his private world view,
to permit one to reconstruct the conceptual evolution of its form and of its pragmatic function.
The key to deciphering the form of this formula is the fact that the forbidden object of his love
was named “Gisela”. Given this fact, as Freud pointed out,
It is easy to see that this word is made up of
GISELA
S AMEN
and that he united his 'Samen' ['semen'] with the body of his beloved, i.e., putting it bluntly, had masturbated with
her image. He was of course convinced and added that sometimes the formula had secondarily taken the shape of
Giselamen, but that he had only regarded this as being an assimilation to his lady's name (an inverted misunderstanding). (p. 281)
Thus in this magical formula, through the violent manipulation of the phonological form of his formula he is able to symbolically enact in the body of the word the event which he is forbidden to enact
in the body of reality. He enacts symbolic sexual intercourse by metonymic association (Jakobson’s
‘contiguity’) of the name of his beloved with the name of that which he wishes to associate with his
beloved, this latter name, ‘samen’, being a further metonymic substitute for himself). He enacts sexual intercourse through the juxtaposition of words, and then he obscures this symbolic act even further, and simultaneously consummates the sexual merger by mutilating the two words and blending
them together in one.
256
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Indirect Speech Acts
As to the ostensible pragmatic force of this formula, in the quote above Freud says that the Rat
Man uttered it as a “protective formula”. From this it would appear to be intended with the same kind
of force as, “May God protect her” “God bless her”. However, this characterization is the one that the
Rat Man put on it. It is certainly not Freud's assessment of its intended force. To understand the
dynamics of this kind of magical language, one must look back in the patients dialogue to its inception. In this case, and probably in all others, it springs from the dialectical conflict between love and
hate. The way this conflict is played out in language is clearly seen in the following segment of
Freud's description of this patent's behavior.
At the time of the revival of his piety... he made up prayers for himself, which took up more and more time and
eventually lasted for an hour and a half. The reason for this was that he found, like an inverted Balaam1, that
something always inserted itself into his pious phrases and turned them into their opposite... E.g., if he said, 'May
God protect him,' an evil spirit would hurriedly insinuate a 'not'.... In the end he found his way out of his embarrassment by giving up the prayers and replacing them by a short formula concocted out of the initial letters or
syllables of various prayers. He then recited this formula so quickly that nothing could slip into it. (p. 193)
And in another place Freud notes that the patient became aware of the disturbing element of hostility
which injected itself into his intended benefactions.
The words he wanted to use in his prayer were, 'May God protect her', but a hostile 'not' suddenly darted out of
his unconscious and inserted itself into the sentence; and he understood that this was an attempt at a curse. (p.
242)
Nevertheless, in spite of his elaborate linguistic precautions, in the particular formula we are looking
at, his semen still manages to insert itself into Gisela, against his wishes. Or at least against the
wishes of himself in the role of someone² who conveniently accepts his symbolic interjection as
meaningless. But at the level of someone¹ his blessing can be seen as a curse, and his meaningless
formula as a symbolic enactment of that which he wishes to do, but is forbidden from doing. The
mutilation which his words suffer as they force their way through the violence of his conflict are the
manifestation in the symbolic medium of the mutilation of his soul.
Now that we can see this symbolic mutilation as an integral component of the larger dialogical
structure of this person we can see that it is very similar to the euphemistic mutilation of “Dag nab it”.
For one thing, both are magical formulas which were mutilated in order to permit someone¹ to perform a forbidden act while appearing to someone² to not be performing that act. Also, both appear to
be meaningless and harmless on the surface, but are essentially hostile and violent in intent. The main
difference is that the Rat Man's formula is a private conventional mutilation, whereas “Dag nab it” is
a more public conventional mutilation. The former is an idiosyncratic illusion, the latter a collective
illusion.
Indirect Speech Acts
There is a class of phenomena which have come to be called “indirect speech acts” in the technical language of linguistics. However, this terminology suffers from the same incoherence as the
terms “symbolism” and “euphemism”. As we saw in the beginning of this chapter, the conventional
1. Freud is referring to the fact that "Balaam came to curse and stayed to bless" as he explains in a later footnote.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
257
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
use of the term “symbolism” to refer exclusively to the class of superficial symbolic phenomena,
such as the dove as peace, incorrectly implies that the rest of language is not symbolic, or is symbolic
in a different way, whereas the fact is that these superficial symbols use the same duplicitous logic as
the rest of language. Thus that class of phenomena is not distinct in being symbolic, but in being
superficially symbolic. Similarly, we saw that the term “euphemism” is conventionally used to refer
to a limited class of substitutive phenomena in which it is supposed that the motive is “good speech”.
While this term, “euphemism”, is correct in attributing this motive to the phenomena to which it
refers, it incorrectly implies that the rest of language is not euphemistic, whereas the fundamental
point I am trying to make here is that this euphemistic motive is what drives the entire machine of
language. In the same vein, while it is true that the class of phenomena called “indirect speech acts”
are indirect, this usage of the expression implies that the rest of language is not indirect, whereas the
fact is that everything in language is indirect. There is nothing in language that is not indirect, for language is precisely mediated behavior, which is to say, behavior that does not get at something
directly but rather gets at it through the agency of something else, i.e., through a symbol, or a representation.
In spite of this incorrectness of the conventional terminology, there is a coherent class of phenomena which linguists have intuitively distinguished to which the conventional terminology refers.
So the question is, if it is not indirectness that distinctively characterizes the class of phenomena
called “indirect speech acts”, what does?
The characteristic of an indirect speech act which motivates the name “indirect” is, in informal terms, that it is an act in which a person says one thing but means another. In technical terms, an
indirect speech act is a speech act in which there is a duplicity in the function of language such that
there is a split between the semantics of the act and its actual intended force. Or, in other words, the
semantics of the act is distorted in the service of pragmatic motives.
Since the chief mechanism of politeness in language is indirectness, one can observe innumerable highly conventionalized, and thus familiar, examples in polite language. For example, when
uttered to a companion at dinner,
Can you pass the salt?
has the pragmatic force of a request for the addressee to give him the salt, but it is semantically a
question about either the ability of the addressee to move the salt from one place to another, or the
legality of it. Thus one could legally reply to this speech act in three different ways.
1. Yes, I can.
2. Yes, you can.
3. Here it is. (while passing the salt,)
However, although these replies are all legal, they are also all illegal: The first two replies would be
semantically legal, but would be pragmatically illegal. And the latter reply would be semantically
illegal, but pragmatically legal.
In this way, this kind of duplicity, the duplicity of indirectness, imposes a dialogical dilemma
upon its addressee: He must choose semantic harmony at the expense of pragmatic harmony, or he
must choose pragmatic harmony at the expense of semantic harmony. In short, the indirect speech act
is characterized by pragmatically motivated semantic distortion, i.e., functional duplicity.
258
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Indirect Speech Acts
We can sort out the various elements of this kind of duplicity, and represent their logical and
dynamic relationships in terms of our elementary structure of duplicity.
FIGURE 31.
The Duplicity of Indirectness
Can you pass the salt? = a request
Can you pass the salt? = a question
Give me the salt? = a command
LAW: You should not command others
To understand the relationships between the elements here, let us describe the evolution of this situation. In the beginning, prior to the emergence of universe², there were two formally, semantically, and
pragmatically unrelated forms: “Can you pass the salt?” which was a question about the addressee’s
capability (leaving the other sense of “can” aside as irrelevant to the present history), and the command, “Give me the salt!”.
Now, one of the basic principles of politeness, which helps to sustain the bonds of the social
fabric, is that one must not intrude upon the ego of another. Each person’s ego must be permitted its
sovereignty. This is basic to the social contract: I will permit you to have your ego, and help you to
make it look real, but only if you permit me to have my own ego, and help me to make mine look real.
A direct command violates this principle, and is thus forbidden in socially polite language.
Nevertheless, most people want to control the behavior of other people, which gives rise to the
conflict that motivates indirectness: for certain reasons one wants to control the behavior of others
and for certain reasons one does not want to control the behavior of others. The mechanism of duplicity, in this case, duplicitous indirectness permits one to do both, or at least it permits one to control
the behavior of other people without appearing on the surface to do so. Here, “on the surface” means
in universe².
Thus someone¹ takes the sentence “Can you pass the salt?” which was originally found in universe¹ and uses it to represent another sentence in universe¹, and thereby creates a universe² in which
the former something¹ is now a something² in the eyes of a someone². As a result, in universe², the
sentence “Can you pass the salt?” no longer means “Can you pass the salt?”, because it has been captured and put to use in the service of politeness to mean “Give me the salt!”. That captured sentence is
no longer available for free use, because it has been dedicated in the eyes of the new law of universe²
to serve as the representation of another sentence. And, in universe² it is illegal to interpret that captured sentence in its underlying, more natural, semantic sense. One must treat it in terms of the value
which it has been assigned in universe². And, finally, in universe², the sentence, “Give me the salt!”,
is not recognized as a legitimate entity. It is an illegal alien. It does not exist. And with this banish-
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
259
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
ment, we have rounded out the provisions of the (conventionally) legal duplicity which comprises
universe².
The phenomenon of indirectness has received a good deal of attention in linguistics in the last
decade or two, but the focus of attention has always been upon the relation between the indirect
speech act and the speech act for which it is the substitute. Why is this particular sentence chosen as
the substitute? What is the process of reasoning by which one decides that a sentence is not being
used for itself, but rather as an indirect way of referring to another sentence? And, and by what process of reasoning does one conclude which other sentence is being referred to? The connection
between sentence¹ and sentence² in the above example has been conventionalized, so its interpretation would seem to be merely a conventional matter. But conventionalized indirectness is only a
superficial layer of the phenomenon, and as is always the case with conventions, whatever becomes
conventionalized must have occurred previously as a spontaneous phenomenon. Thus, conventionalized indirectness is merely that class of indirectness which has become ossified as social institutions.
However, in practice, the same kind of substitutive duplicity pervades normal speech to an extent that
is far beyond the bounds conventionally recognized as indirectness. In fact, more or less spontaneous
instances of indirect speech acts are such a ubiquitous and vital component of ordinary conversation
that indirectness is more normal in ordinary conversation than is directness. That is, the notion that
ordinary language is direct and that indirectness is a marginal phenomena is a stereotype, or a myth,
of the predominant folk world view. And thus the problem of how one calculates the relations
between sentence¹ and sentence² becomes correspondingly vital to an understanding of how language
actually works.
Nevertheless, as important as it is to understand the logic and semantics of indirectness, I
think it is more important to understand its pragmatic dynamics. I think it is more important because
the pragmatic dynamics is prior to and governs and motivates the logical and semantic distortions of
indirectness. Therefore, without dismissing the logical and semantic problems, we will focus exclusively on the pragmatic dynamics.
Focusing then on the dynamics of indirect speech acts, we can make the following general
observations, which will frame our further exploration. First, as we have already seen in several different examples, indirectness arises in situations of conflict. A corollary of this fact is that indirectness only arises in what we might call tendentious situations. And in the contrary case, where there is
no particular purpose, indirectness cannot occur. Thus, an indirect phatic communication, an indirect
ceremonial speech, or an indirect offering in an aimless meandering conversation, etc. would be an
impossibility. The notion that there could be an indirect way of greeting someone, for example,
makes not sense. How could one say “Hello” indirectly?
Second, indirectness is a strategic maneuver. By this I mean that it is a positional move in the
play of a situation of conflict which is intended to out flank the opposition, or to circumvent the opposition, or to undermine it, or to subvert it. It is a strategic maneuver as distinct from what is conventionally considered the only possible alternatives, namely, continuation of conflict (fight),
submissively abandoning ones desires (flight), or compromise. Paraphrasing Klausewitz’ famous dictum, an indirect speech act is the pursuit of one’s objectives by other means. In the realm of concepts,
the realm in which words and sentences are the issues and the weapons, in a situation where neither
overt war, i.e., physical violence, nor diplomacy can overcome the opposition, indirectness is the
strategy of guerrilla warfare. It is the strategy of the Trojan horse. It is the strategy of pretense,
duplicity, distortion, evasion. It is the strategy of attacking from an unexpected and undefended flank.
260
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Indirect Speech Acts
The Indirect Speech Act as a Strategic Maneuver
The examples we have been looking at thus far are very tame and ordinary, because they are
conventionalized, and because they are evasive in intent. The framework of conflict in all these cases
has been the same, namely, a conflict between an egotistical objective and an inhibiting social prohibition. Naturally the character of the indirectness created to circumvent this rather mundane kind of
conflict will be correspondingly mundane. However, there are other basically different kinds of conflict, and correspondingly other species of indirectness. One prominent kind of verbal conflict is a
more or less symmetrical conflict between individuals, groups of individuals, or points of view, etc.
Such conflicts are sometimes staged between individuals, who fight in a highly stylized manner, as
representatives of higher or larger ends, as in a court of law. Or, the individuals might fight as representatives of their societies in lieu of more general war. Or, as a prelude to general war1. Or, perhaps
such a battle might be for the hand of a fair maiden. Or, or perhaps it might be a merely personal
power struggle. Or, perhaps it might be sheer play, just for the fun of the battle.
In any case, the parameters of this kind of conflict are quite different from euphemistic conflict, and so is the nature of the strategic indirectness. In this kind of verbal warfare one sees a much
more creative, aggressive, and insidious kind of duplicity, as opposed to the more obsequious kind of
indirectness seen in politeness. And, of signal importance, whereas euphemistic conflict is seen as
somewhat pathetic, aggressive symmetrical conflict is considered to be not only entertaining, but also
it is considered to be of mystical significance, in the sense that victory is considered to be a sign of
the truth and superiority of the victor. Of course these two kinds of indirectness are not necessarily
mutually exclusive: in verbal battle anything can be used to gain advantage, and sometimes the most
clever attacks are disguised as refined and attentive shows of politeness, and are thus all the more difficult to counter, without appearing to be rude and stupid. In a more or less conventionalized expression, the weapon which one wields in this kind of polite verbal duel is called “rapier-like wit” in
appreciation of the fact that, while such conflict may be subtle, it’s intent is nevertheless aggressive
and violent.
One must recognize also, that verbal battle, like any other kind, is often not conducted with
strategic acumen. Often verbal battle is overt, blunt, direct, and correspondingly brutal, ineffective,
and unentertaining. The structural prototype of this kind of uninspired conflict is blunt assertion
countered with blunt denial:
Person A
Person B
Yes it is.
No it isn’t.
This kind of conflict does not persuade any one, or reveal anything, or make any progress. It is the
verbal counterpart of stalemate: Uninteresting, unproductive, and brutal.
But when conflict is played with strategic skill it can be penetrating, insightful, and decisive, and it
can be very amusing, for the prototypical structure of strategic indirectness is the structure of the
joke. The evolutionary structure is this: first, the situation is framed in such a way as to be brought to
an impossible conflict, i.e., a dilemma; then the punch-line reframes the situation in such a way that
the conflict collapses, and the energy bound up in the dilemma is suddenly released with an upsurge
of delight and exhilaration. This is the feeling that people want to get from humor and from battle.
1. See Bohannan Law & Warfare for a sampling of the ethnological variety of this kind of conflict.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
261
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
Obviously these are the outer parameters of symmetrical conflict. Most verbal battles are
somewhere between being crudely blunt and being strategically brilliant. But in order to understand
the dynamics of any particular instance of indirectness in verbal battle, we must be able to see it in
terms of a general framework.
Before we go on to consider some examples, we must look at one more aspect of the framework of indirectness, namely, the relationship between universe¹ and universe². It will be useful, I
think, to characterize the relationship between these two points of view, and to correlate this relationship with some other well known concepts.
We can begin with the distinction that philosophers have made between use and mention. The
classical example is the following pair of sentences.
Socrates is a man.
Socrates has eight letters.
The point is that although the word “Socrates” is formally identical in these two sentences, two totally
different functions are being performed. In the first, the word is being used in a sentence, and in the
second the word is being referred to, or as the philosophers say, it is being mentioned.
However, linguists have found this distinction to be far more complex than is implied in this
way of talking about it, and that the philosophical terminology is rather confusing in a way which I
will specify shortly.
The distinction which seems to be more generally applicable is that the first sentence is in
English, whereas the second sentence is about English. The first “Socrates” refers to Socrates, but the
second “Socrates” refers to the word that refers to Socrates. Thus in the logic of the second sentence
there is an additional layer of reference, hence, it is called a metalinguistic sentence.
It would seem to make more sense then, to say that in the first sentence the word “Socrates” is
spoken in English, and the second the word is used to speak about English. Instead of “use vs. mention”, it would be better to characterize these two modes of linguistic behavior “spoken vs. used”.
In precisely the same sense, an indirect speech act is not a speech act in language, it is a
speech act which uses language. When one says “Can you pass the salt?” he does not mean what he
says, he uses what he says to mean something else. An indirect speech act is thus a metalinguistic act.
It is an act which transcends language. It is an act which is motivated from outside of language, comprehends the situation from a point of view outside of language, and manipulates language duplicitously in accord with laws outside of language - the laws of strategy. The very evaluation of
“indirectness” implies a point of view outside of language. In terms of the broadest frame of reference, the distinction here is between playing in the game, and playing with the game. There is an act
or move in the game, and there is a higher order act or move that merely uses the game as a medium
or instrument or weapon.
Now we are in a position to properly locate the conventional assumption that the primary
function of language is to communicate. Communication is the purpose in the game of language. But
there is a whole world that is prior to and contains and dominates the game of language, namely, the
real world, the natural world. And, of course, that prior world has its own prior motives and laws.
Thus we cannot possibly hope to understand language by limiting our analysis to the framework of
the game of language. We must be able to look at linguistic phenomena both from the point of view
inside the game and the point of view outside of the game, that is, universe² and universe¹. We must
262
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Indirect Speech Acts
analyze a speech act in terms both of its function in the narrow sense as an act in language and its
broader metafunction as a real maneuver in reality. The former is the realm of the law of language,
the realm of semantics, information, consensus, correctness of form, etc.; the latter is the realm of
natural law, the realm of pragmatics, force, truth, effectiveness, etc.
Let me illustrate the strategic dynamics of the indirect speech act first by a fairly deep look at
one simple, stereotypical example, and then by superficially looking at a variety of more subtle examples.
For the first example, which is a verbal version of the fabled Trojan horse strategy, lets look at
a trick which lawyers and prosecuting attorneys like, at least on TV, which involves the incorrect use
of a performative verb, as in the following exchange.
Police: Do you admit that you saw Bob?
Max: I don't admit it, I say it.
What is wrong with the question is that the verb “admit” is grammatical only if its complement is the
description of an event that is a crime, or at least a failure, such as
I admit that I stole the diamonds
I admit that I failed to keep my promise
I admit that I forgot.
It is ungrammatical to use “admit” where the complement is a simple description of fact, so unless a
pretext had been established which made it a crime to be six feet tall or for today to be Tuesday the
following would be ungrammatical.
*I admit that I am six feet tall
*I admit today is Tuesday.
Thus the use of “admit” where its complement is the innocent fact that Max saw Bob is ungrammatical, and as a result, this way of asking the question appears on the face of it to be dysfunctional. That
is, to be precise, it appears to be dysfunctional in terms of the simple minded idea that the function of
language is to exchange information or to communicate.
It is dysfunctional in the first place because it makes the question more complicated and thus
more difficult to understand and thus more likely to fail in its ostensible intent to elicit information.
Second, it makes it more complex for Max to compose his reply: it forces Max to calculate whether to
accept or ignore the incorrect use of the verb or to correct it, and if the latter, how to correct it. Third,
if he does correct it, as he did above, the formal structure of his reply would also be more complex
than it would otherwise have to be, thereby complicating the form and the semantic structure of his
part of the dialogue, and making the next stage of the exchange more complex in turn. Finally, if the
police were to persist in their misuse of the verb “admit” it might make Max angry and uncooperative
and eventually he might refuse to answer any questions.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
263
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
All of the above complexity would be dysfunctional from the point of view of a hypothecated
desire on the part of the police to get information from him as compared with the relative simplicity
and overt functional effectiveness of the following alternative dialogue.
Police
Max
Did you see Bob?
Yes.
This would be the most effective way for them to get information, but of course we all know that the
police are not playing the game of getting information. They are playing the much deeper game of
attributing guilt. And what they accomplish by their incorrect dysfunctional way of speaking is that
they can indirectly accuse Max of a crime, an accusation which they presumably could not justify
making explicitly, or else they would do so. And by doing it indirectly they also obscure the fact that
they are making an accusation by hiding it behind a mask of complexity, which most people would
not be linguistically sophisticated enough to be able to penetrate. The ordinary linguistically naive
person would probably not be consciously aware that he was being accused of a crime. He would
unconsciously grasp that fact, and would probably feel uncomfortable, but in the speed and the heat
of the dialogue, he would not be able to precisely identify the cause of his discomfort, and he would
not therefore be able to defend himself effectively.
This aspect of the strategy is similar to the Trojan horse. By wording their accusation in this
way they insidiously posit the existence of guilt in the addressee. Having posited guilt in him, the
police can attack him both from inside and from outside. Now that his guilt has entered the universe
of discourse, no matter how, they can refer to it, build on it, and treat it as if they had not introduced
it. And, if he refers to this guilt in any way whatsoever, he only contributes to its substantiality.
In addition to the covertness of the accusation, if Max were able to figure out that he is being
indirectly accused of something, he would be faced with the confusing fact that what he is being
accused of does not make sense: How could seeing Bob be a crime? Since it is not a crime, he could
not possibly be being accused of that crime. Thus he must conclude that the police are referring to
another crime, to some as yet unspecified crime. And, since everyone is guilty of something, everyone is vulnerable to the vague accusation of guilt, quite independently of the crime the police have in
mind. So by making this covert and vague accusation, what the police are trying to do is to get at
Max's feeling of guilt, to get around the defensive barriers of secrecy which he, and everyone else,
erects around their guilt, to agitate him and get him scared, to get him confused, to get him hot, to get
him to panic, and perhaps to confess. That is what function of their dysfunction is. It is a strategic
maneuver get inside his defenses, to bypass his resistance, and to induce him to confess.
Furthermore, the incorrectness can also serve as a defensive shield. If Max should be perceptive enough to realize that he was being accused of a crime, and if he were to accuse the police of
having made a false accusation, because their construction is incorrect in the first place, the police
could plead lack of knowledge, or inadvertence, or dismiss it as an unimportant semantic detail, or
simply deny that the question conveys an accusation.
And, finally, the fact that no accusation appears on the surface of the question permits the
police to frame the situation in such a way that anything Max might say to defend himself could be
turned into weapon against him. In order to defend himself against the covert accusation, Max would
have to say something about accusation or crime or guilt or something else relevant to the covert
accusation. Whatever he might say can then be misinterpreted in accord with their frame of reference
264
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Indirect Speech Acts
as the first mention of the subject and thus as proof that he felt guilty and that they were right in the
first place for doing what they are pretending they didn't do. For example:
Police
Max
Police
Max
Police
Max
Police
Do you admit that you saw Bob?
I don’t admit it, I say it. What is wrong with that? I is not a crime.
Who said anything about a crime?
You indirectly accused me.
I didn’t accuse you of anything, but if you are not guilty of anything, you
have nothing to worry about.
I’m not worried.
Who said you were worried?
And so on and so on. In such a struggle, because the attack is by indirect means, and because of the
fundamental asymmetry of guilt and innocence, it is impossible to either defended oneself or to counterattack in any effective way. On the contrary, because of the duplicitous framing of the situation,
the force of any defensive effort can easily be turned back against the accused. It is for this reason
that silence is really the only defense.
As can be seen even in this simple example, the conventional idea that the main function of
language is to exchange information is hopelessly naive. In fact, the very idea of function, as it is
ordinarily thought of, is itself naive, for in the rough and tumble of real life, whatever idea of function
one might assume becomes the basis for expectations that can be strategically exploited by violating
those assumptions. Thus in the larger framework, linguistic dysfunction can actually be pragmatically
functional.
This is not an unusual example by any means. The classical question used to illustrate an
unfair question is an example of this Trojan horse strategy.
When did you stop beating your wife?
This question presupposes that the addressee regularly beat his wife for a period of time that ended at
some point prior to the present, and asks for a specification of that point in time. According to the
rules of grammar, which are enforced in a court of law when a hostile witness is being questioned, the
only possible responsive answer would be a date. And an attempt to deny the presuppositions of the
sentence would be technically ungrammatical, perhaps enforced by certain penalties.
The general strategic principle here is this. Logical presupposition, as distinct from assertion,
provides a convenient technique by which one can place saboteurs in the enemy camp. In as much as
presuppositions are prior to the central point of a speech act, they are off stage, or in other words, they
are normally out of our awareness. Therefore, such saboteurs are normally hidden from our awareness. And what is more, even if we do become aware of an insidious presupposition, it is legally protected from attack by virtue of its privileged grammatical position as a presupposition. What I mean
by this is that it is grammatically illegal to negate, deny, question, or even assert a presupposition. In
other words, the rules of grammar force you to accept the insidious attack by presupposition. In order
to effectively respond to such an insidious attack, one must violate the rules of grammar.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
265
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
In more general terms, the attack is duplicitous in that it appears to be playing the game of language, when in fact it is really using language, or rather mis-using language, by performing a speech
act which presupposes things that are false. To effectively reply to the attack, one must go outside of
language and reply in a grammatically inappropriate way. The only appropriate reply is an inappropriate reply. That is to say, one must realize that the power of the duplicitous attack is a function of
the victim’s mistaken belief that they are playing the game of language. To defend himself, the victim
of the attack must realize that there is a difference between a game in language and a war which uses
language. He must realize that there is a difference between appropriateness¹ and appropriateness².
Both examples of this Trojan horse strategy that we have discussed are relatively stereotypical, and both have to do with officials of the law. Lest one draw the incorrect inference that this strategy is limited in some way, I will briefly mention a few examples.
There is another class of indirectness which uses a strategy that is quite distinct, almost opposite to the Trojan horse strategy. Instead of using implication to attack the integrity of the other by
planting an agent of sabotage within the other, this strategy attacks the conceptual framework of the
other by insidiously reframing his position or his character or his beliefs, etc., through implication. In
other words, this strategy imposes insidious categorizations upon the other. One example is from an
episode of the TV comedy “Cheers”. John Cleese was playing the role of a marriage counselor. He
had just met a woman in a superficial social relationship, and he had no more than exchanged the
usual polite words, when she said something rather insulting to him. He instantly replied, in a manner
which was totally unresponsive and inappropriate, grammatically speaking, thus:
My ex-wife had a dress just like the one you are wearing.
On the face of it, this might be taken as a mere factual observation. And one could suppose that his
statement flowed spontaneously from a sudden realization of the fact, and that it was not intended to
be a response to her insult at all. One could, of course, only accept such an interpretation as a collusive attempt to maintain the facade of social harmony. This superficially innocent observation is an
insidious counterattack in the guise of a factual observation. He is imposing on her, through the
agency of his indirect representation, the identity of his ex-wife.
The works of Stephen Potter, who invented the concept of “one-upsmanship”, are a rich
source of insight into and examples of strategic maneuver on the interpersonal level of interaction. He
cites numerous varieties of the present strategic maneuver. In a chapter on “Conversationship” he discusses one-up conversational openings, i.e., opening remarks designed to frame the other’s position
in an undesirable and/or disadvantageous way. (1970, p. 88)
Another opening, more difficult to guard against, is the encouraging personal remark aimed at
your chief rival, e.g. “Good lord, how do you always manage to look so well? There are many variants. ‘I’m glad to see you looking so fit’ can suggest that at last your friend has cut down to a bottle of
whisky a day. More subtle, and more difficult to answer is:
Lifeman
You are looking wonderfully relaxed.
What makes this kind of maneuver so brilliant is that it exploits the intrinsic duplicity of language in
such a way that it permits one to attack without revealing the slightest sign of attack on the surface of
the speech act. That is, in the above example, an attack is disguised as an innocent factual observation. However, it is a factual observation which does not fit in the flow of the dialogue. It is inappropriate. This inappropriateness is the sign that something devious is going on. In this case, there is no
266
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
Indirect Speech Acts
disguise, for these attacks not only look like complements, they are complements in the sense that the
speech act itself would be identical in form whether one was truly intending to complement the
addressee or to attack him. This kind of attack is not really indirect in the sense of there being two
forms. This is not a duplicity of form, but a duplicity of the very force of the speech act. This strategy
exploits the intrinsic duplicity of language, rather than a specially contrived duplicity of form, to
make its insidious attack.
The logic of this strategy is as follows. Let us begin to reason this out from the basic principle
that language is intrinsically duplicitous. From this it follows that every element of language is
duplicitous and is necessarily suspended in the framework of doubt. As a consequence of its duplicity, every sentence is semantically ambiguous and the force of every speech act is ambivalent. This
property of language can be formulated as a corollary pragmatic principle thus:
Every speech act is both what it appears to be and the opposite.
Therefore, to properly comprehend the force of a given speech act one must bear in mind its duplicitous ambivalence. The effect of this ambivalence is that every complement is also an insult, and every
promise is also a threat, every praise is also criticism, etc. In general, in the framework of language,
every good thing can be interpreted as a bad thing and vice versa. Every gift has strings attached
which convert it into an obligation.1
One need not be intending to insult the other to become entangled in this bewildering chaos of
reversals and inversions. In fact, whenever one enters into the realm of language, he necessarily finds
himself in this chaotic realm. From the point of view of the addressee it is impossible to determine the
intentions of the speaker, so the addressee must decide what intentions to attribute to the speaker on a
priori grounds. Thus whether one takes an offering as a gift or as a trap is a function of the prior
framework in which one evaluates the offering. And language can be of no help in disambiguating.
On the contrary, since every element of language is ambiguous and ambivalent, at bottom there is no
linguistic sign which can be used to unambiguously represent anything. In the realm of language, the
message is ambiguous, and the metamessage which is intended to frame the message is itself ambiguous. So too is any higher order message about metamessages. There is no way to escape from the
intrinsic ambiguity of language by means of language.
It is this intrinsic duplicity of language which Potter’s attack exploits. The following sentence,
Good lord, how do you always manage to look so well?
praises the addressee for looking so well. But in doing so, it implies that there is some unmentioned
prior debilitating condition that the addressee overcomes at great expense of effort. The speech act
appears to be delicate in not mentioning what this debilitating condition is, but in being delicate it
implies that the condition is the sort of thing that a polite person would not mention. It implies that
this condition, whatever it might be, is socially reprehensible. And, in being vague, after having por1. The premise that a gift necessarily conveys an obligation along with its benefit is the fundamental premise of the prevailing theories of social exchange. In effect, this premise holds that there is no such thing as a gift, in the proper sense
of something given freely; it is held that what appears to be a gift is merely a disguised form of purchase. See the discussion in Mauss’ classic The Gift.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
267
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
trayed the general character of this offensive condition, it leaves plenty of room for the imagination to
work. A variety of possibilities pass through the back of one’s mind, such as a disease of some kind,
perhaps leprosy; or, a particularly burdensome family life, perhaps a drug addict son; or, perhaps it is
simply poverty that he manages to overcome.
Because there is absolutely no formal difference between the speech act as a compliment and
the speech act as an insult, an attack of this kind is impossible to uncover. There is no sign on the surface that is a direct manifestation of the intent of the speaker. There is no leakage. And for this reason, this strategy is, as Potter states, is very difficult to counter. This smooth attack duplicitously
frames the situation in such a way that any sort of direct response on the part of person², the victim of
the attack, would not merely be ineffective, but it would be turned against person². For example, the
following replies,
Don’t insult me.
There is nothing wrong with me.
I’m not particularly well.
What are you getting at?
all cast person² in the role of a hypersensitive paranoid person who reads insults into everything. In
effect, if person² makes any direct response, he will be portraying himself as exactly the kind of person that he was implicitly characterized as in the original attack.
Potter mentions a possible, though not particularly effective, defensive maneuver. It is a symmetrical counter used by experienced one-upsmen, which results in a stalemate, which is typical of
symmetrical conflicts. Potter said, “I have noted J. Pinson’s reply (known as ‘Pinson’s reply’) to this
clever gambit:”
Lifeman
Pinson
Lifeman
(counterreposting)
Pinson
Lifeman
You’re looking wonderfully relaxed...I thought something good had happened to you.
You’re looking tremendously relaxed too.
Ah, but I’m not looking nearly so relaxed as you are.
Oh, I don’t think I’m very relaxed.
Oh, yes, you are.
Two lifemen may go on in this way for twenty minutes, but to a layman the statement that he is
relaxed can suggest that normally he is nervy and abstracted, if not on the verge of a breakdown.
I would like to close this discussion of indirect strategic maneuver in the realm of language by
emphasizing a point that I have repeatedly made, namely, that this topsy turvy logic of inversion only
obtains within the bounds of language. The duplicity, ambiguity, and ambivalence of the speech act
is a function of the duplicitous frame of reference consisting of two competing points of view, universe¹ and universe². In other words, the duplicity exists only from the point of view of the secondary
universe of discourse. In reality, a gift is a gift. If someone wants to attach strings to a gift, then that is
a secondary evaluation that takes place in the context of universe². In nature there are no strings.
268
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
On the Duplicity of The Word
What is good is good and what is bad is bad. The realm of chaotic inversion and confusion is entirely
a function of the symbolic frame of reference.
On the Duplicity of The Word
The word is the crux of language, in both senses of the word. The word is the crux of language
in that it is the central point in the structure of language where the two dimensions of language, symbolic form and symbolic meaning, are joined together in symbolic union. And the word is the crux of
language in that it is the central paradox of language. Thus the word is the symbol par excellence, the
prototypical symbol. And, as is perfectly obvious, the word is essentially duplicitous.
As a basis on which to develop our understanding of the duplicity of the word, let us consider
how Ferdinand de Saussure, one of the founders of the discipline of linguistics, characterized the
word in his lectures given in the first decade of this century.1
Saussure begins, by observing (p. 65), as do all linguists, that the common idea of the word is
“naive” (his word), and proceeds to distinguish the linguistic idea therefrom. The common idea was,
and it is still the common idea, that a word grows out of the naming process. Saussure mentions several respects in which this idea of the word is naive. First, this idea of the word is naive in that it
assumes “that ready-made ideas exist before words” when in fact an idea is one of the two parts of a
word. Just as the head of a baby and the body of a baby come into being at the same time, so ideas
and words come into being simultaneously. Saussure says bluntly,
There are no pre-existing ideas (p. 112)
and that
Language can also be compared with a sheet of paper: thought is the front and sound the back; one cannot cut the
front without cutting the back at the same time...2 (p. 113)
Second, the common idea of the word is naive in that it assumes
that the linking of a name and a thing is a very simple operation - an assumption that is anything but true. (p. 65)
However, Saussure allows that the “naive approach” is right in that it highlights the fact
that the linguistic unit is a double entity, one formed by the association of two terms.
But it is wrong in that the two terms that are united in the word are not a thing and a name. Rather,
Saussure said, it “must be emphasized” that
1. Saussure, 1959. Saussure uses the words “word” and “sign” as more or less equivalent. Thus he uses the word “sign.”
in a different way from the way Peirce uses it and different from the way I am using it. Technically, Saussure’s “sign”
is the same as Peirce’s “symbolic type of sign.” In the present discussion one can take Saussure’s “sign” to be equivalent to “word.”
2. It is interesting to note that Saussure and Peirce use the same imagery in the same way independently. Language, as a
universe of discourse, is likened to a sheet of paper and the elements of language are pieces that have been cut or sliced
from the whole. For a detailed explanation of how Peirce integrated the concept of universe of discourse as a “sheet of
assertions” and “cuts” of such sheets into his logic see Robert’s study of The Existential Graphs of Charles S. Peirce.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
269
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
both terms involved in the linguistic sign are psychological and are united in the brain by an associative bond. (p.
66)
To be more specific:
The linguistic sign unites, not a thing and a name, but a concept and a sound-image. The latter is not the material
sound, a purely physical thing, but the psychological imprint of the sound, the impression it makes on our senses.
Or, as we would say in modern linguistic terminology, the sound-image is not the material sound, a
purely physical thing, but a phoneme.
The linguistic sign is then a two-sided psychological entity that can be represented by the drawing:
Concept
Sound-image
Saussure then suggests (p. 67) that it would be better to replace these terms as follows:,
Signified
Signifier
because these latter two terms
have the advantage of indicating the opposition that separates them from each other and from the whole of which
they are parts.
And Saussure cites a specific example of a word as follows
arbor
Of course, Saussure went on from this basic characterization of the word to develop numerous important insights into the machinery of language, but this basic characterization is sufficient for our
present purpose, which is just to make it clear that the word is essentially duplicitous and to develop a
basic idea of the nature of its duplicity.
Now I assume that it is clear, not just on the authority of Saussure’s assertions above, but
because it is patently obvious, that the word is essentially a two-part entity. And, while Saussure is
right to focus on the doubleness of the word, his decision to focus on the doubleness of the word and
270
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
On the Duplicity of The Word
his decision to represent that doubleness as above are ad hoc. By contrast, the theory of signs compels
us to focus on the doubleness of the word. The theory of signs motivates the hypothesis that the word
is not just double, but that it is duplicitous. And it motivates us to represent the duplicity of the word
in the same way as we have represented the other duplicities of language. Therefore, to provide a preliminary hypothesis of the duplicity of the word, subject to subsequent refinement, let us transform
Saussure’s characterization of the word into the logic of duplicity as in Figure 32.. Note, by the way,
FIGURE 32.
Saussure’s Idea of the Word Reframed in the Logic of Duplicity
Universe2 - The Level of the Signified
tree
Universe1 - The Level of the Signifier
that I have thought it appropriate to substitute English “tree” for Latin “arbor.”
There are several features in this representation which are wrong and/or misleading, and there
are a number of ways in which it is at odds with Saussure’s representation, and there are a number of
ways in which it is at odds with prevailing linguistic theory, and there are a number of ways in which
it is at odds with conventional thinking. So I propose to discuss some of these features as a way of
developing a fuller and more accurate conceptualization of the duplicity of the word. I will divided
the discussion into three sections. First, I will discuss the object that is at the level of Universe1, then
I will discuss the object that is at the level of Universe2, then I will discuss the relationship between
them.
The Signifier of a Word
The signifer part of a word consists of a complex of phonological elements, which have come
to be called “phonemes” in linguistics. Of course, as all linguists well know, the typical naive speaker
oscillates between the error of thinking that the signifier of a word is made up of letters on one hand,
and the error of thinking that the signifer of a word is made up of actual sounds on the other hand. Of
course, a word can be represented orthographically, but as I have pointed out above, orthographic
representations are ontogenetically and phylogenetically subsequent to phonological elements. So the
prototypical signifier of the word is not letters. And on the other hand, as Saussure states above, the
signifier part of a word is not sounds. The signifier of a word consists of neither letters nor of sounds,
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
271
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
but of what Saussure called “sound-images”, a concept which was a precursor to the concept of the
phoneme.
It should be noted that Saussure’s representations above are misleading in this respect because
he used letters to represent the signifier part of the word, but he can be forgiven because he did not
have the concept of the phoneme available.
We will discuss the phoneme in great detail in Chapter 5, so here I will just try to establish a
general idea of what the phoneme is by way of elaborating the duplicity of the word. First, the phoneme is not a sound, but a category of sound. It is, as Saussure said above, not a “physical thing”, but
a “psychological” thing.1 And it might seem trivially obvious when considered in the abstract that a
category of sound is not a sound, but as I will explain in Chapter 5, language works by virtue of the
systematic confusion of the physical sound with the psychological thing, and as a consequence there
is a normal tendency for the naive speaker to confuse sound and the linguistic categories of sound,
i.e., phonemes. So the linguistic point of view departs from the normal naive point of view in the rigorous insistence that the signifier part of a word consists not of sounds but of categories of sounds.
Second, Saussure described the phoneme as a “sound-image”, and I think it is likely that the
image of sound does play a role in the genesis of the phoneme, but a full fledged phoneme is not simply an image of a certain sound, but rather it is a conventionalized or idealized image. Perhaps one
could say that the phoneme is not an actual sound-image, but rather an abstract sound-idea, or an
ideal of a sound. Each different phonemic ideal, or phoneme, is characterized by a set of distinctive
identifying features, or marks. For example, in English the phoneme ideal that we write as /t/ is distinctively characterized as a voiceless alveolar stop consonant. So if a certain sound has these distinctive marks, then it would be considered by an English speaker to be a /t/. But it is really just a sound.
Similarly, if a certain piece of paper has the appropriate distinctive marks, it would be considered to
be a dollar. But it is really just a piece of paper.
Third, I must make it clear that the prevailing linguistic theory holds that the object on the
level of Universe1 should be formally represented as a matrix of distinctive features. From this point
of view, a phonemic representation like /tri/ for “tree” would be considered to be merely an informal
way to represent the proper representation, which would be a matrix like the following. (This is just a
simplified version of what the real matrix of the word “tree” would look like.)
consonant
sonorant
stop
diffuse
voice
t
+
+
+
-
r
+
+
i
+
+
+
1. For an explanation of what it means to say that the phoneme is a “psychological” thing in the present frame of reference, see “On the Psychological Reality of the Phoneme” beginning on page 314
272
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
On the Duplicity of The Word
In this representation the definition of the phoneme /t/ would be the set of distinctive feature specifications in the first column, the definition of the phoneme /r/ would be the set of distinctive feature
specifications, in the second column, and the definition of the phoneme /i/ would be the set of distinctive feature specifications in the third column.
If one believes that a matrix of this sort is the best way to represent the phonological part of a
word, there is nothing preventing one from formulating a theory of language that specifies that the
object on the level of Universe1 is such a matrix. However, I am convinced that a matrix of this sort is
theoretically inadequate. I do not think it is appropriate to go into this issue in detail here, but I will
briefly outline my reasoning.
In my view there is one general type of problem with this sort of representation, but there are
several different ways to talk about it. The general problem is that a matrix misrepresents the facts.
To be more specific, the problem with a matrix is that all of the columns and all of the rows and all of
the cells are the same, and thus a matrix claims that every feature and every segment and every specification is the same, but that is not true. There are several different kinds of groupings of segments
and features and specifications, and there are hierarchical relationships between segments and groups
of segments, between features and groups of features, and between specifications and groups of specifications. This dimension of phonology has been largely ignored because it does not fit into a square
matrix, but it was most comprehensively and systematically described by Jakobson (1968) in the section entitled “Stratification of the phonological system.”
For example, it is common knowledge that there is a hierarchy of distinctive features as a
result of which there are sheerly mechanical redundancies in feature specifications, e.g., it is physically impossible for a sonorant to be a stop. And then there are the hierarchical redundancies known
as markedness phenomena. On the paradigmatic axis of the matrix, the intra-segmental axis, it is
physically possible for a vowel to be voiceless, but a phonemic distinction between a voiced and
voiceless vowel is a rare as hen’s teeth. And on the syntagmatic axis of the matrix, the inter-segmental axis, the matrix claims that every segment is the same as every other segment, but everyone knows
that vowels and consonants are radically different, opposite in fact, and that they perform radically
different roles. As everyone knows, each vowel is the nucleus of a syllable and is capable of standing
alone, but a consonant must be attached to a vowel. A consonant like /t/ is inaudible except as an
appendage of a vowel. Thus to assert, as this sort of matrix does, that the /i/ and the /t/ of the word
“tree” are the same type of segment, as if we were dealing with a string of beads, is profoundly wrong
in every possible dimension.
In sum, the problem with a matrix is that it is the wrong kind of space. Indeed, it is a function
of the wrong kind of geometry. A matrix is a space of discrete and symmetrical and homogenous categories. It is a square space. And the geometry underlying a square matrix is, in terms of Peirce’s categories, a function of the geometry of thirdness, of the conventional kind of three dimensional
Euclidean geometry, or in other words, of symbolic logic. But the categories of language, and thus
the categories of the phonology of language, are not discrete and not symmetrical and not homogenous. Language is not square. And language does not grow out of the logic of thirdness. On the contrary, the logic of thirdness, symbolic logic, is the logic of language. Language, and the logic of
language, grows out of the logic of firstness and secondness. Therefore, in order to make sense of language one must think of language as a function of the logic of firstness and secondness.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
273
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
That is the line of reasoning that leads me to the conclusion that the square matrix is the wrong
type of conceptual machinery for the task at hand. And, on the positive side, it also leads me to the
hypothesis that the logic of duplicity is exactly the type of conceptual machinery that is needed to
account for the complex tree-like pair-wise hierarchical stratification of the phonological system as
described by Jakobson.
The Signified of a Word
As Saussure said in the above quotes, the naive speaker erroneously believes that a word is a
relationship between sound and a thing. But as we saw above, the signifier of a word is not sound.
And just as the signifier is not sound, so too the signified is not a thing. As Saussure said a word is an
abstract, psychological thing. And from this it follows that the parts of a word are the same kind of
abstract, psychological thing.
It is interesting to note that at about the same time as Saussure was giving his lectures in
Europe, C. S. Peirce was putting the same observations in writing in America.
We speak of writing or pronouncing the word “man”, but it is only a replica, or embodiment of the word, that is
pronounced or written. (2.291)
Further, as we saw in Chapter 2 in Peirce’s theory of signs the word is the prototypical symbolic type
of sign, and
A symbol...cannot indicate any particular thing, it denotes a kind of thing. Not only that, but it is itself a kind and
not a single thing. (2.301)
So just as the signifier is a not a sound but a category of sound, so too the signified is not a thing but a
category of things.
Preliminarily, then, we can characterize the signified category as an idea, or ideal. Just as the
signifier is a sound-image, or better, a sound-idea, so too the signified is a thing-image, or a thingidea, or an ideal of a thing. And just as linguists have subsequently conceptualized sound-ideas, i.e.
phonemes, in terms of the logic of a matrix of distinctive sound-features, so too have linguists conceptualized thing-ideas in terms of a matrix of distinctive semantic features, known as semantic
fields. As an example, let us consider the word “tree” in terms of a semantic matrix.
In my dictionary “tree” is defined as “a perennial woody plant having a main trunk and usually a distinct crown.” So the idea of “tree”, as distinct from “shrub” and “grass” and “duck”, might
be characterized in terms of a semantic field as follows.
.
living
274
tree
shrub
grass
duck
+
+
+
+
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
On the Duplicity of The Word
plant
woody
trunk
crown
+
+
+
+
+
+
-
+
-
-
Now, if one were so inclined, there is nothing to prevent one from using a matrix to characterize both parts of a word and putting them together as in Figure 33 below. As a matter of fact I think
FIGURE 33.
A Representation of the Duplicity of the Word “Tree” Using Matrices
living
+
plant
+
woody
+
trunk
+
crown
+
2
Universe - The Level of the Signified
consonant
+
-
-
sonorant
-
-
+
stop
+
-
-
diffuse
+
+
+
voice
-
+
+
Universe1 - The Level of the Signifier
this is what most linguists assume the lexical entry of a word looks like. However, in my view, just as
the logic of a matrix is inappropriate for the signifier, as I argued above, so too is a matrix inappropriate for the signified, and for the same reasons. Just as the form of words is structured in terms of hierarchical strata, rather than a square matrix of square boxes, so is the semantics of words. The fact is
that there are many different kinds of hierarchical structures both internal to the word and external to
the word, and on both the paradigmatic and syntagmatic axes, and on both the synchronic and diachronic axes. And the point is that these intersecting systems of hierarchical structures seem to be a
function of the same types of relationships whether internal or external and whether paradigmatic or
syntagmatic, etc. That is, the same relationships that are found within the idea of one word are also
found between different words, and the same relationships that are found within a paradigm of the
same type of words are also found in the syntagmatic relations between different types of words.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
275
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
For example, according to the dictionary the first, and most basic, meaning of the word “star”
is “a self-luminous celestial body”, but this word also has a secondary meaning, “a famous movie
actor.” So we can use the same word to characterize both a celestial body and a human body.
Orion is a star.
Bob is a star.
One of the perplexities of the significance of words that can be seen in this word is this. We think of
the first sentence as the background, the paradigm, in the context of which the second is metaphorically derived, whereby a person is metaphorically characterized as a celestial body. But in doing so
we overlook the fact that Orion was originally the name of a person and that the sentence “Orion is a
star” was originally the metaphorical characterization of a celestial body as a human being. So when
we ask the question of whether the star is a metaphor of the person or the person is a metaphor of the
star, we run into a paradox. So to answer the question we must suspend the law of the excluded middle and realize that the answer is that each is a metaphor of the other. This shows that symbolic significance is circular. And therefore it shows that the square logic of a matrix is incapable of
characterizing circular nature of symbolic significance.
Another problem is this. If we take the meaning “famous movie actor” as a metaphorical
derivative of the basic meaning, then we can assume that at some time in the past “star” did not have
this secondary meaning, then at some time it came to be used metaphorically to refer to famous
movie actors, then that usage of the word became conventionalized, so now we consider this to be
one of the internal meanings of the word, and we no longer think of this meaning as metaphorical. By
contrast, the metaphorical usage of the word “gazelle” to mean “fast” which I mentioned at the beginning of this book is not conventionalized, and thus we think of this meaning of “gazelle” as a derivative meaning that is external to the word. Because of this difference we can say, for example, “In this
movie, a star is born”, but we cannot say, “In this track meet, a gazelle is born.” Thus what was once
an external derivative meaning of the word “star” is now an internal derivative meaning. And the
same theoretical machinery should be used to account for the same phenomenon whether internal to
the meaning of a word or external.
Similarly, as I have pointed out, the word “language” was borrowed from Latin, where it had
the basic meaning “tongue”, but was also used metonymically in Latin to refer to the system of
speech. So this was only a secondary meaning in Latin. But the naive speaker of English is not aware
of this and takes the metonymic meaning as the basic meaning of the word. However, there are still
traces of this connection in English as in the medical usage of “lingual” to refer to the tongue, of
which the naive speaker might become aware.
Now, this same semantic relationship is found in the native English word “tongue.” The original meaning is, “The fleshy, movable, muscular organ, attached in most vertebrates to the floor of
the mouth, that is the principal organ of taste, an aid in chewing and swallowing.” But it is used metonymically to mean “the system of speech” as in “the French tongue”, “English is my mother
tongue”. etc. Thus what was a process of derivation in Latin that has found its way into English in a
fragmented form and is mirrored in the native vocabulary. And presumably, once again, the same theoretical machinery should account for both instances of what appears to be the same phenomenon.
Obviously we are getting into some very deep and murky water here, but it is important not to
allow our thinking about the significance of words to be dominated by the conventional simpleminded and naive idea of the significance of words just because we cannot replace it with a better
276
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
On the Duplicity of The Word
simpleminded and naive idea. The fact is, and this is the main point that I want to make about the significance of words, that one cannot characterize the significance of any word in isolation, or any other
element of language for that matter. The fact is that the significance of words is an intricate fabric of
bewildering, paradoxical complexity. And while the patterns of the fabric of the significance of
words in certain times, in certain languages, in certain personalities, tend to manifest certain characteristic styles or families of styles (such as the hysterical family of styles - baroque, rococo, etc. - or
the obsessive family of styles - functional, scientific, etc. - or the narcissistic family of styles, or the
paranoiac family of styles, etc.) at bottom all of the styles of symbolic significance are essentially of
diabolical and maniacal complexity. And so we must take care not to get entangled and caught up in
the intricacies of the fabric of significance. So I propose to escape from the web of symbolic significance after making two observations.
First, I would like to make it clear that, although the fabric of significance is paradoxical, circular, and of maniacal complexity, it is not necessarily mysterious or obscure. It is only mysterious
and obscure from the conventional point of view, i.e. the point of view that assumes that language is
rational and reasonable. From the point of view that recognizes the essential duplicity of language,
the tortured fabric of significance is obvious and easy to see. As the above examples suggest, one can
easily see the stratification of associations, the paradoxical complexity, and the circularity of the significance of words by looking in the dictionary. What one finds there in the main entry is a list of the
layers and layers of derivative meanings. Some of the derivative meanings are metaphorical, some
are metonymic, some are ironic, etc.1 And after the main entry one finds a discussion of the layers
and layers of etymological relationships. And one finds all sorts of cross references to morphologically and semantically related words, synonyms, antonyms, homonyms, etc. And as to the circularity
of significance, everyone has probably been struck at one time or another by the realization that one
cannot look up a word in the dictionary in order to find out how to spell it unless one already knows
how to spell it, and that one cannot really understand the definition of a word in the dictionary unless
one already knows what the word means. So one can see the fabric of significance of words in any
dictionary. But, of course, dictionaries only scratch the surface of the fabric of significance because
they restrict themselves to the network of more or less conscious associations.
Second, I would like to point out that Saussure and Peirce, independently, at about the same
time, but on different continents were describing the fabric of significance in language in very similar
ways. And I would like to suggest that the outlines of a theory of symbolic significance, such as the
following, can be arrived at by considering their observations together.
The Relation Between Signifier and Signified
The relationship between signifier and signified is more commonly known as “meaning.” So
another way of describing what we are doing here is this: We are developing the basic framework for
a theory of the symbolic type of meaning in the context of the theory of signs.
From Chapter 2 we have a general idea of how significance fits in Peirce’s theory of signs.
Given the definition of a sign (“A sign represents something to someone”), then the significance of a
1. A sample of the various kinds of derivative meanings one might find can be seen in the quote from Jakobson on
page 228.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
277
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
sign is that which the sign represents. Now you will recall that in the case of an iconic sign, such as
the visual image of the moon, it is obvious and trivial that the image of the moon represents the moon.
And in the same sense it is obvious and trivial that the quacking of a duck is an indexical sign that
represents the duck itself. However, as we have already seen, the symbolic type of sign is a different
kettle of fish. As we quoted from Peirce above,
A symbol...cannot indicate any particular thing, it denotes a kind of thing. Not only that, but it is itself a kind and
not a single thing. (2.301)
Where the quack of a duck is a particular thing that refers indexically to the particular duck that emits
the quack, the sentence “That is a duck” does not refer to any particular duck. In order to felicitously
use such a sentence, one’s speech act must be complemented by some sort of indexical sign, such as
an act of pointing, which would signify which particular duck “that duck” is intended to refer to. Thus
the word “duck” does not and cannot refer to a particular duck. And if the word “duck” does not refer
to a duck then the question is what does it refer to. That is the question that requires a theory of symbolic significance.
In one place Peirce characterized the significance of the third type of signs, symbolic signs, of
which the word is the prototype, in the following way.1
A sign stands for something to the idea which it produces, or modifies. Or, it is a vehicle conveying into the mind
something from without.2 That for which it stands is called its object; that which it conveys, its meaning; and the
idea to which it gives rise, its interpretant. The object of representation can be nothing but a representation of
which the first representation is the interpretant. But an endless series of representations, each representing the
one behind it, may be conceived to have an absolute object at its limit. The meaning of a representation can be
nothing but a representation. In fact, it is nothing but the representation itself conceived as stripped of irrelevant
clothing. But this clothing never can be completely stripped off; it is only changed for something more diaphanous. So there is an infinite regression here. Finally, the interpretant is nothing but another representation to
which the torch of truth is handed along; and as representation, it has its interpretant again. Lo, another infinite
series. (1.339, italics in original)
This extremely dense paragraph should not be read as an attempt to explain the significance of symbolic signs, but rather, I suggest, it is a concise statement of the theory of significance which follows
from his theory of signs. I will not try to develop this theory of significance in any systematic way
here, but even on the face of it one can see that his view of significance is similar in many respects to
the well known views of Saussure, the relevant portions of which I will lay out here for comparison,
and then I will point out some of the important ways in which the views of Peirce and Saussure agree.
In speaking of linguistic value Saussure said the following.
Let us take signification as it is generally understood and as it was pictured on (page 270). As the arrows in the
drawing show, it (i.e. the significance of the word) is only the counterpart of the sound image. Everything that
occurs concerns only the sound-image and the concept when we look upon the word as independent and selfcontained. (p. 114, parentheses added, page number in quote refers to present text.)
For ease of reference I reproduce the “drawing” he is referring to below.
And he continues:
1. Unfortunately, as the editors of his Collected Works note, this paragraph was found as an “unidentified fragment” and,
as far as I have been able to figure out, he did not develop these ideas in a systematic way.
2. Like a Trojan Horse.
278
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
On the Duplicity of The Word
Signified
Signifier
But here is the paradox: on the one hand the concept seems to be the counterpart of the sound-image, and on the
other hand the sign itself is in turn the counterpart of the other signs in language.
Language is a system of interdependent terms in which the value of each term results solely from the simultaneous presence of the others, as in the diagram:
Signified
Signifier
Signified
Signifier
Signified
Signifier
Obviously what he is trying to suggest is that the relationship represented by vertical arrows in the
first drawing is the same as the relationship represented by the horizontal arrows in the second drawing. That is, he wants to suggest that the relationship between signifier and signified in a symbolic
sign is the same as the relationship of implication or other kinds of associations between one sign and
another sign, but he realizes that this is paradoxical and so he says,
It seems impossible to liken the relationships represented here by horizontal arrows to those represented above
by vertical arrows. (p. 115)
But he wants to do it anyway, and so he suggests that the paradox can be resolved by thinking of the
realm of signs, the universe of discourse, in terms of a sheet of paper, very much as Peirce does.
Putting it another way - and again taking up the example of the sheet of paper that is cut in two (see page 269) it is clear that the observable relation between the different pieces A, B, C, D, etc. is distinct from the relation
between the front and the back of the same piece as in A/A⁄ , B/B⁄ , etc. (p. 115, I have substituted the page number
referring to present text for the page number in original.)
And he characterizes these two dimensions of value in yet another way:
all values are apparently governed by the same paradoxical principle. They are always composed:
(1) of a dissimilar thing that can be exchanged for the thing of which the value is to be determined; and
(2) of similar things that can be compared with the thing of which the value is to be determined. (italics in original)
And he gives an analogy of the two dimensions of value in terms of money:
Both factors are necessary for the existence of a value. To determine what a five-franc piece is worth one must
therefore know:
(1) that it can be exchanged for a fixed quantity of a different thing, e.g. bread; and
(2) that it can be compared with a similar value of the same system, e.g. a one-franc piece, or with coins of
another system (a dollar, etc.).
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
279
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
Now, there are many things that are not entirely clear about these two characterizations of the
significance of words, but there are a few points which I think are clear, and which I would like to
suggest as points of reference in trying to develop a theory of the significance of words, and of symbolic signs in general.
1.
2.
There are two types of value: Symbolic value and natural value. Saussure distinguishes two types
of value in language, both based on relations of exchange, but one where the exchange is between
things of the same type, and the other where the exchange is between things of different types. In
his examples, cited above, the exchange of one five-franc piece for five one-franc pieces is an
exchange of things of the same type, and the exchange of bread for money is an exchange of things
of different types. The former is a symbolic type of exchange, which is the type of exchange that
determines the symbolic value of symbolic signs. And the latter is an exchange of a symbolic
object for a different type of object, i.e. an object which has real and natural value, and which
therefore determines the value of symbolic signs in terms of real and natural values.
Symbolic value is arbitrary. Saussure’s distinction between the two types of value corresponds to
the distinction in Peirce’s theory of signs between the man-made, symbolic type of sign on one
hand and the natural indexical and iconic types of signs on the other.1 As was explained in Chapter
2, the difference is that a symbolic sign refers to its referent by virtue of a stipulation or convention, whereas an indexical or iconic sign refers to its referent by virtue of a relation of physical
contact or similarity. Thus in Peirce’s theory the significance of a symbolic sign is arbitrary,
whereas the significance of an indexical or iconic sign is intrinsic and naturally motivated. Saussure also insisted that symbolic value is arbitrary. Saussure posits as the first of the two “primordial characteristics” (p. 67) of the linguistic sign what he calls “Principle I”, which is that
The bond between the signifier and the signified is arbitrary. Since I mean by sign the whole that results from the
associating of the signifier with the signified, I can simply say: the linguistic sign is arbitrary (p. 67, italics in
original)
and he explains what he means by “arbitrary” thus:
I mean that it is unmotivated, i.e. arbitrary in that it actually has no natural connection with the signified. (p. 69)
Finally, Saussure makes it clear that he calls this “Principle I” because
Principle I dominates all the linguistics of language; its consequences are numberless. (p 68)
3.
Symbolic value is tautological, or synthetic. Symbolic exchange, which is the exchange of symbol
for symbol, is totally enclosed in the symbolic realm, therefore symbolic value is totally a function
of symbolic value. That is, symbolic value is circular, or tautological. Thus it is an immutable law
that a five-franc piece will always and forever be worth five one-franc pieces, and that five onefranc pieces will be worth one five-franc piece. But such a law is merely a tautology, a synthetic
truth, and has no bearing on reality. In reality a five-franc piece might buy five loafs of bread at
1. By the way, this also corresponds to Freud’s distinction between secondary and primary process thinking. And instructively, where Saussure speaks of exchanging francs for bread, Freud speaks of “children of nature who refuse to accept
the psychical in place of the material, who, in the poet’s words, are accessible only to ‘the logic of soup, with dumplings for arguments’” (SE VolXII, p. 166).
280
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
On the Duplicity of The Word
4.
one time, and only one loaf of bread at another time, and it might be of no more value than a scrap
of yesterdays newspaper at yet another time. So the symbolic value of a symbolic sign is a function
of the other symbolic signs for which it can be exchanged.
Symbolic value is a function of chains of extrinsic associations. The symbolic significance of a
symbol is a function of the endless chains of exchange in which that symbol could possibly be
implicated. So the symbolic value of a symbolic sign is a function of the whole symbolic system.
A symbolic object has no value in and of itself, but only as an element in the system of symbolic
objects. As Peirce said in the above quote, speaking of symbolic signs, the meaning of a sign is
another sign, and the meaning of that sign is another sign, etc., in an infinite series. An infinite
chain of associations.1 Saussure cites several concrete examples to illustrate this characteristic of
symbolic significance. For example, he points out that French mouton does not have the same
value as English “mutton” even though the two words refer to the same animal because English
also has the word “sheep”, and thus in English “mutton” only refers to the pre-cooked, or raw,
form of the animal, but not the living form of the animal. So the meaning of “mutton” is different
in English because there is another associated word “sheep.”
The value of just any term is accordingly determined by its environment (p. 118)
5.
The symbolic value of a symbol is a function of that to which a symbol is opposed. It follows
from the foregoing points that symbols do not have value because of what they are, but because of
what they are not. So the symbolic value of a symbol is a function of all of the other symbols to
which it is opposed. That is what the sort of matrix represented above is trying to get at: the pluses
and minuses are supposed to represent the valence of some of the main oppositions in which a
given symbolic object participates. Thus, in Saussure’s words,
Everything that has been said up to this point boils down to this: in language there are only differences. (p. 120)
6.
And at the bottom of the whole system of oppositive symbolic relations, the fundamental thing to
which everything is opposed, the ground from which the whole system arises, is truth. Therefore at
bottom symbolic value is a function of truth, an inverse function of truth.
Real natural value is different. It is crucial to realize that pre-symbolic or sub-symbolic value is a
different type of value from symbolic value. We saw in Chapter 2 that there are duplicities on the
level of iconic and indexical signs, and we saw that there are chains of iconic and indexical associations, but these types of chains are seldom very long, and there is always something real at the
end of a chain of indexical and/or iconic associations. That is, to put it in terms of the example
Saussure gave above, you can eat bread, and be satisfied. But words in and of themselves are of no
value at all. And that is why the chain of symbolic associations, driven by the quest for symbolic
satisfaction, goes on and on without end. The chain of symbolic associations is endless because it
never attains satisfaction. That does not mean there is no satisfaction; it means that there is no symbolic satisfaction. Truth satisfies, but symbols are entirely enclosed in the universe of symbolic
duplicity.
1. Since language, unlike the real universe, is finite, one might wonder how there could be infinite chains of associations
in language. It is possible only because symbolic chains of associations can be reflexive, circular, conjoined, embedded, etc.Or in other words, the chains of symbolic associations go around and around, back and forth, in and out, weaving the fabric of symbolic significance, and yet one never really goes anywhere or gets anywhere.
On the Duplicity of Language(Draft of 10/14/99)
281
A Survey of the Duplicities of Language
The chains of symbolic associations flow along two opposing and intersecting axes. These two
vectors, or axes, are similar to the vertical and horizontal axes of conventional geometry in that
they are opposite and intersecting, but these axes are also different in certain critical ways and
must not be confused with conventional geometric axes. The axes we are talking about here are
different from conventional geometric axes in that the latter are governed by conventional, or symbolic, logic, whereas the former are governed by the logic of duplicity. These axes have been
described variously, but equivalently, as firstness and secondness (Peirce), as similarity and difference (Peirce and Saussure), paradigmatic and syntagmatic1 (Saussure), iconic and indexical
(Peirce), condensation and displacement (Freud), similarity and contiguity (Jakobson), metaphor
and metonymy (Jakobson and Lacan), imaginary and symbolic (Lacan), etc. Because of the essential bivalence of associations, the same relationships can be seen in either or both axes, a certain
relationship in one dimension can be transformed into the other one, etc. One general example of
this: Jakobson’s explanation of the difference between prose and poetry is that the latter is a mode
of language that is characterized by a greater than normal degree of transformation and projection
of paradigmatic relations onto the syntagmatic dimension. And this is the bivalent frame of reference in terms of which Saussure resolved the paradox cited above: he can say that the arrows in the
above drawings represent the same sign relationship in spite of the fact that in one case they are
vertical and the other they are horizontal. To be more specific, in the bivalent network of associations the signifier of a word can be associated with the signified of a word to comprise a single
unity which we know as the word in exactly the same sense as a word taken as a whole can be
associated with another word. In short, the whole fabric of associations which comprises the significance of symbolic signs is a function of the duplicitous logic of the theory of signs.
8. A word is one of the links in the chain of associations. As we know, there are iconic associations,
indexical associations, and conventional associations. A word is a conventional association where
a sound-idea, consisting of a phoneme or complex of phonemes, is linked with a thing-idea. As I
said at the beginning of this section, the word is the central link in the system of symbolic associations, it is the central type of symbolic sign, but at the same time it is still an association and as
such it is like all the other associations.
9. A phoneme is a signified, as well as a signifier. It is commonly supposed that a phoneme, as the
signifier of a word, is a different type of thing than the signified of a word. But it obviously follows
from the above discussion, and both Saussure and Peirce agree, that a phoneme is the same type of
thing as a signified. In other words, a phoneme is not the b