Truth, in logic, metaphysics and the philosophy of language, the
property of sentences, assertions, beliefs, thoughts, or propositions that are
said, in ordinary discourse, to agree with the facts or to state what is the
case.
Truth is the aim of belief;
falsity is a fault. People need the truth about the world in order to thrive.
Truth is important. Believing what is not true is apt to spoil a person’s plans
and may even cost him his life. Telling what is not true may result in legal
and social penalties. Conversely, a dedicated pursuit of truth characterizes
the good scientist, the good historian, and the good detective. So what is
truth, that it should have such gravity and such a central place in people’s
lives?
The correspondence
theory
The classic suggestion comes from Aristotle (384–322 bce): “To say of
what is that it is, or of what is not that it is not, is true.” In other words,
the world provides “what is” or “what is not,” and the true saying or thought
corresponds to the fact so provided. This idea appeals to common sense and is
the germ of what is called the correspondence theory of truth. As it stands,
however, it is little more than a platitude and far less than a theory. Indeed,
it may amount to merely a wordy paraphrase, whereby, instead of saying “that’s
true” of some assertion, one says “that corresponds with the facts.” Only if
the notions of fact and correspondence can be further developed will it be
possible to understand truth in these terms.
Unfortunately, many philosophers doubt whether an acceptable explanation
of facts and correspondence can be given. Facts, as they point out, are strange
entities. It is tempting to think of them as structures or arrangements of
things in the world. However, as the Austrian-born philosopher Ludwig
Wittgenstein observed, structures have spatial locations, but facts do not. The
Eiffel Tower can be moved from Paris to Rome, but the fact that the Eiffel
Tower is in Paris cannot be moved anywhere. Furthermore, critics urge, the very
idea of what the facts are in a given case is nothing apart from people’s
sincere beliefs about the case, which means those beliefs that people take to
be true. Thus, there is no enterprise of first forming a belief or theory about
some matter and then in some new process stepping outside the belief or theory
to assess whether it corresponds with the facts. There are, indeed, processes
of checking and verifying beliefs, but they work by bringing up further beliefs
and perceptions and assessing the original in light of those. In actual
investigations, what tells people what to believe is not the world or the facts
but how they interpret the world or select and conceptualize the facts.
Coherence and
pragmatist theories
Starting in the mid-19th century, this line of criticism led some
philosophers to think that they should concentrate on larger theories, rather
than sentences or assertions taken one at a time. Truth, on this view, must be
a feature of the overall body of belief considered as a system of logically
interrelated components—what is called the “web of belief.” It might be, for
example, an entire physical theory that earns its keep by making predictions or
enabling people to control things or by simplifying and unifying otherwise
disconnected phenomena. An individual belief in such a system is true if it
sufficiently coheres with, or makes rational sense within, enough other
beliefs; alternatively, a belief system is true if it is sufficiently
internally coherent. Such were the views of the British idealists, including
F.H. Bradley and H.H. Joachim, who, like all idealists, rejected the existence
of mind-independent facts against which the truth of beliefs could be
determined (see also realism: realism and truth).
Yet coherentism too seems inadequate, since it suggests that human
beings are trapped in the sealed compartment of their own beliefs, unable to
know anything of the world beyond. Moreover, as the English philosopher and
logician Bertrand Russell pointed out, nothing seems to prevent there being
many equally coherent but incompatible belief systems. Yet at best only one of
them can be true.
Some theorists have suggested that belief systems can be compared in
pragmatic or utilitarian terms. According to this idea, even if many different
systems can be internally coherent, it is likely that some will be much more
useful than others. Thus, one can expect that, in a process akin to Darwinian
natural selection, the more useful systems will survive while the others
gradually go extinct. The replacement of Newtonian mechanics by relativity
theory is an example of this process. It was in this spirit that the
19th-century American pragmatist philosopher Charles Sanders Peirce said:
“The opinion which is fated to be ultimately agreed to by all who
investigate, is what we mean by the truth, and the object represented in this
opinion is the real.”
In effect, Peirce’s view places primary importance on scientific
curiosity, experimentation, and theorizing and identifies truth as the imagined
ideal limit of their ongoing progress. Although this approach may seem
appealingly hard-headed, it has prompted worries about how a society, or
humanity as a whole, could know at a given moment whether it is following the
path toward such an ideal. In practice it has opened the door to varying
degrees of skepticism about the notion of truth. In the late 20th century
philosophers such as Richard Rorty advocated retiring the notion of truth in
favour of a more open-minded and open-ended process of indefinite adjustment of
beliefs. Such a process, it was felt, would have its own utility, even though
it lacked any final or absolute endpoint.
Tarski and truth
conditions
The rise of formal logic (the abstract study of assertions and deductive
arguments) and the growth of interest in formal systems (formal or mathematical
languages) among many Anglo-American philosophers in the early 20th century led
to new attempts to define truth in logically or scientifically acceptable
terms. It also led to a renewed respect for the ancient liar paradox
(attributed to the ancient Greek philosopher Epimenides), in which a sentence
says of itself that it is false, thereby apparently being true if it is false
and false if it is true. Logicians set themselves the task of developing
systems of mathematical reasoning that would be free of the kinds of
self-reference that give rise to paradoxes such as that of the liar. However,
this proved difficult to do without at the same time making some legitimate
proof procedures impossible. There is good self-reference (“All sentences,
including this, are of finite length”) and bad self-reference (“This sentence
is false”) but no generally agreed-upon principle for distinguishing them.
These efforts culminated in the work of the Polish-born logician Alfred
Tarski, who in the 1930s showed how to construct a definition of truth for a
formal or mathematical language by means of a theory that would assign truth
conditions (the conditions in which a given sentence is true) to each sentence
in the language without making use of any semantic terms, notably including
truth, in that language. Truth conditions were identified by means of
“T-sentences.” For example, the English-language T-sentence for the German
sentence Schnee ist weiss is: “Schnee ist weiss” is true if and only if snow is
white. A T-sentence says of some sentence (S) in the object language (the
language for which truth is being defined) that S is true if and only if…,
where the ellipsis is replaced by a translation of S into the language used to
construct the theory (the metalanguage). Since no metalanguage translation of
any S (in this case, snow is white) will contain the term true, Tarski could
claim that each T-sentence provides a “partial definition” of truth for the
object language and that their sum total provides the complete definition.
While the technical aspects of Tarski’s work were much admired and have
been much discussed, its philosophical significance remained unclear, in part
because T-sentences struck many theorists as less than illuminating. But the
weight of philosophical opinion gradually shifted, and eventually this
platitudinous appearance was regarded as a virtue and indeed as indicative of
the whole truth about truth. The idea was that, instead of staring at the
abstract question “What is truth?,” philosophers should content themselves with
the particular question “What does the truth of S amount to?”; and for any
well-specified sentence, a humble T-sentence will provide the answer.
Deflationism
Philosophers before Tarski, including Gottlob Frege and Frank Ramsey,
had suspected that the key to understanding truth lay in the odd fact that
putting “It is true that…” in front of an assertion changes almost nothing. It
is true that snow is white if and only if snow is white. At most there might be
an added emphasis, but no change of topic. The theory that built on this
insight is known as “deflationism” or “minimalism” (an older term is “the
redundancy theory”).
Yet, if truth is essentially redundant, why should talk of truth be so
common? What purpose does the truth predicate serve? The answer, according to
most deflationists, is that true is a highly useful device for making
generalizations over large numbers of sayings or assertions. For example, suppose
that Winston Churchill said many things (S1, S2, S3,…Sn). One could express
total agreement with him by asserting, for each of these sayings in turn,
“Churchill said S, and S,” and then asserting, “And that is all he said.” But
even if one could do this—which would involve knowing and repeating every
single saying Churchill made—it would be much more economical just to say,
“Everything Churchill said was true.” Similarly, “Every indicative sentence is
either true or false” is a way of insisting, for each such sentence (S), S or
not S.
Despite their contention that the truth predicate is essentially
redundant, deflationists can allow that truth is important and that it should
be the aim of rational inquiry. Indeed, the paraphrases into which the deflationary
view renders such claims help to explain why this is so. Thus, “It is important
to believe that someone is ill only if it is true that he is” becomes “It is
important to believe that someone is ill only if he is.” Other broad claims
that appeal to the notion of truth can likewise be paraphrased in illuminating
ways, according to deflationists. “Science is useful because what it says is is
true” is a way of simultaneously asserting an indefinitely large number of
sentences such as “Science is useful because it says that cholera is caused by
a bacterium, and it is” and “Science is useful because it says that smoking
causes cancer, and it does” and so on.
While deflationism has been an influential view since the 1970s, it has
not escaped criticism. One objection is that it takes the meanings of sentences
too much for granted. According to many theorists, including the American
philosopher Donald Davidson, the meaning of a sentence is equivalent to its
truth conditions (see semantics: truth-conditional semantics). If deflationism
is correct, however, then this approach to sentence meaning might have to be
abandoned (because no statement of the truth conditions of a sentence could be
any more informative than the sentence itself). But this in turn is contestable,
since deflationists can reply that the best model of what it is to “give the
truth conditions” of a sentence is simply that of Tarski, and Tarski uses
nothing beyond the deflationists’ own notion of truth. If this is right, then
saying what a sentence means by giving its truth conditions comes to nothing
more than saying what a sentence means.
As indicated above, the realm of truth bearers has been populated in
different ways in different theories. In some it consists of sentences, in
others sayings, assertions, beliefs, or propositions. Although assertions and
related speech acts are featured in many theories, much work remains to be done
on the nature of assertion in different areas of discourse. The danger,
according to Wittgenstein and many others, is that the smooth notion of an
assertion conceals many different functions of language underneath its bland
surface. For example, some theorists hold that some assertions are not truth
bearers but are rather put forward as useful fictions, as instruments, or as
expressions of attitudes of approval or disapproval or of dispositions to act
in certain ways. A familiar example of such a view is expressivism in ethics,
which holds that ethical assertions (e.g., “Vanity is bad”) function as
expressions of attitude (“Tsk tsk”) or as prescriptions (“Do not be vain!”)
(see ethics: Irrealist views: projectivism and expressivism). Another example
is the constructive empiricism of the Dutch-born philosopher Bas van Fraassen,
according to which some scientific assertions are not expressions of belief so
much as expressions of a lesser state of mind, “acceptance.” Accordingly,
assertions such as “Quarks exist” are put forward not as true but merely as
“empirically adequate.” If some such views are correct, however, then an
adequate theory of truth will require some means of distinguishing the kinds of
assertion to which it should apply—some account, in other words, of what
“asserting as true” consists of and how it contrasts, if it does, with other
kinds of commitment.
Even if there is this much diversity in the human linguistic repertoire,
however, it does not necessarily follow that deflationism—according to which
the truth predicate applies redundantly to all assertions—is wrong. The
diversity might be identifiable without holding the truth predicate
responsible. “Vanity is bad” or “Quarks exist” might contrast with “Snow is
white” in important respects without the difference entailing that the first
two sentences are without truth value (neither true nor false) or at best true
in other senses.
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