Caledonian: The statement “x is true” could be properly reworded as “X corresponds with the world.” The statement “I believe X” can be properly reworded as “X corresponds with my mental state.” Both are descriptive statements, but one is asserting a correspondence between a statement and the world outside your brain, while the other is describing a correspondence between the statement and what is in your brain.
There will be a great degree of overlap between these two correspondence relations. Most of our beliefs, after all, are (probably) true. That being said, the meanings are definitely not the same. Just because it is not sensible for us to say that “x is true” unless we also believe x (because we rarely have reason to assert what we do not believe), does not mean that the concepts of belief and truth are the same thing.
It is meaningful (if unusual) to say: “I believe X, but X is not true.” No listener would have difficulty understanding the meaning of that sentence, even if they found it an odd thing to assert. Any highly reductionist account of truth or belief will always have difficulty explaining the content that everyday users of English would draw from that statement. Likewise, no normal user of English would think that “I believed X, but it isn’t true,” would necessarily mean, “X used to be true, but now it is false,” which seems like the only possible reading, on your account.
It is meaningful (if unusual) to say: “I believe X, but X is not true.” No listener would have difficulty understanding the meaning of that sentence, even if they found it an odd thing to assert. Any highly reductionist account of truth or belief will always have difficulty explaining the content that everyday users of English would draw from that statement. Likewise, no normal user of English would think that “I believed X, but it isn’t true,” would necessarily mean, “X used to be true, but now it is false,” which seems like the only possible reading, on your account.
It is meaningful (if unusual) to say: “I believe X, but X is not true.”
I challenge this. Or, rather, the sense in which I agree with it is so extended as to be actively misleading.
If someone says “I believe this ball is green, but really it’s blue,” I won’t think they’re spouting gibberish, agreed. But I also won’t think they believe the ball is green, or even that they meant to express that they believe the ball is green.
Assuming nothing else unusual is going on, I will probably think they’re describing an optical illusion… that the ball, which they believe to be blue, looks green.
“But how can they be wrong about their own beliefs?”
I’m not saying they are. I’m saying they constructed the sentence sloppily, and that a more precise way of expressing the thought they wanted to express would be “This ball, which I believe to be blue, looks green.”
I could test this (and probably would) by asking them “You mean that the ball, which is blue, looks green to you?” I’d expect them to say “Right.”
If instead they said “No, no, no: it looks blue, and it is blue, but I believe it’s green” I would start looking for less readily available explanations, but the strategy is similar.
For example, maybe they are trying to express that they profess a belief in the greenness of the ball they don’t actually have. (“I believe, ball; help Thou my unbelief!”) Maybe they’re mixing tenses and are trying to express something like “It’s blue, but [when I am having epileptic seizures] I believe it’s green.” Maybe they’re just lying. Etc.
I could test each of these theories in turn, as above. If each test failed, I would at some point concede that I don’t, in fact, understand the meaning of that sentence.
Things in the world are things in the world. Beliefs about things in the world are beliefs about things in the world. Assertions about beliefs about things in the world are assertions about beliefs about things in the world. These are all different. So are perceptions and beliefs about perceptions and assertions about perceptions and assertions about beliefs about assertions about perceptions of things in the world.
Our normal way of talking doesn’t expect us to keep these categories distinct, so when we hear an utterance that superficially asserts something absurd, but which could assert something meaningful if we assumed that a category-slip happened while constructing the utterance, we’re likely to assume that.
This is analogous to (and for all I know shares a mechanism with) metonymy (e.g., “The ham sandwich in aisle 3 wants a Coke.”)… taken literally, it’s absurd, so we don’t take it literally; taken metonymicly there’s a plausible reading, so we assume that reading.
The original comment was simply refuting the claim that “X is true” and “I believe that X” have the same meaning. It was expecting you to take at face value “I believe X, but X is not true”. Though it seems like that’s an inconsistent sort of thing for someone to assert, it is meant to draw out the distinction between the meanings of those two clauses. (compare to “X is true, but X is not true”—a very different sort of contradiction)
Caledonian: The statement “x is true” could be properly reworded as “X corresponds with the world.” The statement “I believe X” can be properly reworded as “X corresponds with my mental state.” Both are descriptive statements, but one is asserting a correspondence between a statement and the world outside your brain, while the other is describing a correspondence between the statement and what is in your brain.
There will be a great degree of overlap between these two correspondence relations. Most of our beliefs, after all, are (probably) true. That being said, the meanings are definitely not the same. Just because it is not sensible for us to say that “x is true” unless we also believe x (because we rarely have reason to assert what we do not believe), does not mean that the concepts of belief and truth are the same thing.
It is meaningful (if unusual) to say: “I believe X, but X is not true.” No listener would have difficulty understanding the meaning of that sentence, even if they found it an odd thing to assert. Any highly reductionist account of truth or belief will always have difficulty explaining the content that everyday users of English would draw from that statement. Likewise, no normal user of English would think that “I believed X, but it isn’t true,” would necessarily mean, “X used to be true, but now it is false,” which seems like the only possible reading, on your account.
Excellent points.
I challenge this. Or, rather, the sense in which I agree with it is so extended as to be actively misleading.
If someone says “I believe this ball is green, but really it’s blue,” I won’t think they’re spouting gibberish, agreed. But I also won’t think they believe the ball is green, or even that they meant to express that they believe the ball is green.
Assuming nothing else unusual is going on, I will probably think they’re describing an optical illusion… that the ball, which they believe to be blue, looks green.
“But how can they be wrong about their own beliefs?”
I’m not saying they are. I’m saying they constructed the sentence sloppily, and that a more precise way of expressing the thought they wanted to express would be “This ball, which I believe to be blue, looks green.”
I could test this (and probably would) by asking them “You mean that the ball, which is blue, looks green to you?” I’d expect them to say “Right.”
If instead they said “No, no, no: it looks blue, and it is blue, but I believe it’s green” I would start looking for less readily available explanations, but the strategy is similar.
For example, maybe they are trying to express that they profess a belief in the greenness of the ball they don’t actually have. (“I believe, ball; help Thou my unbelief!”) Maybe they’re mixing tenses and are trying to express something like “It’s blue, but [when I am having epileptic seizures] I believe it’s green.” Maybe they’re just lying. Etc.
I could test each of these theories in turn, as above. If each test failed, I would at some point concede that I don’t, in fact, understand the meaning of that sentence.
Things in the world are things in the world. Beliefs about things in the world are beliefs about things in the world. Assertions about beliefs about things in the world are assertions about beliefs about things in the world. These are all different. So are perceptions and beliefs about perceptions and assertions about perceptions and assertions about beliefs about assertions about perceptions of things in the world.
Our normal way of talking doesn’t expect us to keep these categories distinct, so when we hear an utterance that superficially asserts something absurd, but which could assert something meaningful if we assumed that a category-slip happened while constructing the utterance, we’re likely to assume that.
This is analogous to (and for all I know shares a mechanism with) metonymy (e.g., “The ham sandwich in aisle 3 wants a Coke.”)… taken literally, it’s absurd, so we don’t take it literally; taken metonymicly there’s a plausible reading, so we assume that reading.
The original comment was simply refuting the claim that “X is true” and “I believe that X” have the same meaning. It was expecting you to take at face value “I believe X, but X is not true”. Though it seems like that’s an inconsistent sort of thing for someone to assert, it is meant to draw out the distinction between the meanings of those two clauses. (compare to “X is true, but X is not true”—a very different sort of contradiction)
Well, I certainly agree that “X is true” and “I believe that X” have different meanings.
My point was just that asserting their conjunction doesn’t mean anything, except metonymically.
So it sounds like I misunderstood the original point. In which case my comment is a complete digression for which I should apologize.
Thanks for the clarification.