Well, the “does a tree make a sound when it falls in the forest with nobody there to hear it?” question is really about a different issue than this matter of what is the truth-value of dictionary definitions of words. When Bishop Berkeley posed that original question and said “no,” he was asserting an idealistic philosophical perspective that I doubt few of the readers of this blog are particularly sympathetic with, although a lot of mathematician readers are probably bigger Platonists than they might be willing to admit (Did you “discover” that proof?).
Regarding dictionaries and common usage and Caterpillar assertions of “I can make a word mean whatever I want it to mean,” well, certainly dictionaries do ultimately simply report reasonably common usages, with the possibility of these simply expanding for any given word. Most of the time these new usages simply evolve in spontaneous and oddly linked ways through similarities between the newer and the older usages.
Things get a bit odd when we have consciously made changes of meaning a la the Caterpillar. Sometimes these are ironic or hip or whatever, often playing off or against an established meaning ironically. This can lead to confusion if the new meaning gets added on with the older ones, especially if the new meaning is somehow logically or factually at odds with older meanings. This means that users of the word will have to be careful about contexty and audience, if they wish to avoid confusion. Sometimes this is conscious, such as “bad” meaning “really coolly good,” although I doubt that usage has made it to the OED, if it ever will. Others with deeper historical roots are mysteries. Thus, why do both “inflammable” and “flammable” mean the same thing? And then we have words that have evolved to mean just the opposite of their original meaning, such as “pretty,” whose Old English root, “praetig,” apparently meant more like “ugly,” although I may be slightly off on that one. But, such cases are definitely out there. Should the original person to use some form of “pretty” to mean what it does today have been punished, and why did his or her listeners go along with such an extreme change of meaning (which probably happened sort of gradually anyway)?
Well, the “does a tree make a sound when it falls in the forest with nobody there to hear it?” question is really about a different issue than this matter of what is the truth-value of dictionary definitions of words. When Bishop Berkeley posed that original question and said “no,” he was asserting an idealistic philosophical perspective that I doubt few of the readers of this blog are particularly sympathetic with, although a lot of mathematician readers are probably bigger Platonists than they might be willing to admit (Did you “discover” that proof?).
Regarding dictionaries and common usage and Caterpillar assertions of “I can make a word mean whatever I want it to mean,” well, certainly dictionaries do ultimately simply report reasonably common usages, with the possibility of these simply expanding for any given word. Most of the time these new usages simply evolve in spontaneous and oddly linked ways through similarities between the newer and the older usages.
Things get a bit odd when we have consciously made changes of meaning a la the Caterpillar. Sometimes these are ironic or hip or whatever, often playing off or against an established meaning ironically. This can lead to confusion if the new meaning gets added on with the older ones, especially if the new meaning is somehow logically or factually at odds with older meanings. This means that users of the word will have to be careful about contexty and audience, if they wish to avoid confusion. Sometimes this is conscious, such as “bad” meaning “really coolly good,” although I doubt that usage has made it to the OED, if it ever will. Others with deeper historical roots are mysteries. Thus, why do both “inflammable” and “flammable” mean the same thing? And then we have words that have evolved to mean just the opposite of their original meaning, such as “pretty,” whose Old English root, “praetig,” apparently meant more like “ugly,” although I may be slightly off on that one. But, such cases are definitely out there. Should the original person to use some form of “pretty” to mean what it does today have been punished, and why did his or her listeners go along with such an extreme change of meaning (which probably happened sort of gradually anyway)?