Consider this real-life sentence:
- Once your dog knows what "sit" means, he will be happy to please you.
- The dog knows what "sit" means.
- The dog knows that "sit" means ....
Now it could be that this is something special about meaning, that we simply say that someone or something knows what something means provided simply that he, she or it grasps it, without him, her or its having to know any semantic proposition. But I've also toyed with the idea that when we say "x knows what/where/when n V" (where "n" is a noun and "V" is a verb), this should not be analyzed as attributing to x knowledge of the relevant proposition of the form <n V m>. (In the above case, n is a word and "V" is "means".)
Sam was Gettiered in his coming to believe that 9x8=72. His innumerate teacher was saying "7x10=70, and 9x8=70, too", and Sam heard it as "7x10=70, and 9x8=72." And Sam never acquired any other relevant evidence. Then Sam does not know that 9x8=72. But maybe we should say that Sam knows what 9x8 is. For it doesn't seem right to say Sam doesn't know what 9x8 is.
Or suppose Spike has just heard a genuinely powerful argument for external world scepticism. It hasn't made him lose his beliefs, but the argument provided a defeater for his knowledge. So Spike doesn't know he has ten fingers, though he correctly believes it. It doesn't seem right to say Spike doesn't know how many fingers he has (i.e., what the number of his fingers is, to put it in the form I used above).
There is another possibility. It could be that to know what/where/when n V does require knowing that n V m for an appropriate m, but that we use "doesn't know what/where/when" to indicate something stronger than the denial of this knowledge.
I am not very secure in my intuitions about Sam and Spike, actually.
"Consider this real-life sentence: Once your dog knows what "sit" means, he will be happy to please you. So it appears that the following sometimes happens: The dog knows what "sit" means. But surely dogs don't know semantic propositions. So, (2) does not entail that anything of the following form is true: The dog knows that "sit" means .... Dogs don't need to know semantic propositions to understand commands."
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a teenager, I had an Irish Setter who knew "sit" in three languages. English, Latvian and French. This dog was very keen when the command as given in French. I had a cat, Buddy. Buddy tried to sneak out of my back yard, and I literally ordered him to come back in as though I were speaking to a child. He obeyed me, but he was angry with me and let me know by the way he sat down, hissed and growled. My thoroughbred/quarterhorse cross, Baltic Storm, was quite keen and had learned verbal commands in English, Latvian and Russian. He was quite keen to obey the one I would give him in Russian. The thoroughbred I had before him, Merlin, was quite keen on understanding when I spoke Latvian commands to him. I do know that animals such as dogs and horses can aquire a working vocabulary though a limited one. Merlin and I did develope a way to communicate with each other on many levels. I have studied some of what is called natural horsemanship, while I'm far from being a total horse-wisperer, I have come to understand how to develope a language between myself and these two horses. It is a language worked out by body posture, facial expression, muscle tension, voice tone, an understnading of the others limits and vulnerabilities and actual words and at a higher level thoughts and prayers. There was a time during a riding lesson when under saddle, Merlin, bacame flustered by a complicated manuever between ground poles that I was trying to take him through. So I dismounted and on while on foot with gestures and how I held a dressage whip (in terms of angle and direction) in my hand I explained to Merlin this more complicated manuever. He understood at once what I wanted him to do. So, I climbed back on board, and he did it flawlessly under saddle. You should have seen the look on my riding instructor's face! My best prayers have been with Merlin. I remember several times praying vespers with Merlin as the sun was going down. Merlin's nose was in my Book of Christian Prayer and his lips were moving. On another occasion, I was praying the Rosary. Merlin and three other horses who often had spats with each other and were never nice to each other in any way, all had their noses together on that Rosary. I felt a great Peace come upon the horses and myself at that moment. And a great calm came upon these quarrelsome creatures. Then when I finished the Rosary, alas, they all went back to business as usual. There were other times when I was cantering around on Merlin, and my hip joint would suddenly feel funny. Merlin would then slow to a walk until I felt better. Merlin was my traveling companion on my spiritual journey. As for Spike not knowing that he has ten fingers ... All of my animals knew they had four legs.