The two dogmas
There is no sharp line between analytic and synthetic truths, and no statement faces experience alone. Knowledge is a whole that meets experience only at its edges.
The Twentieth Century to Today · 1908 – 2000
蒯因 · Willard Van Orman Quine
The two dogmas of empiricism overturned: no analytic–synthetic distinction, no isolated statement facing experience; translation is indeterminate, 'to be is to be the value of a variable', and philosophy is continuous with science.
To be is to be the value of a variable.
Source: On What There Is (1948)
Quine was born in Akron, Ohio, to a manufacturer and a schoolteacher. He studied mathematics at Oberlin, was captivated by logic after reading Russell, and in 1932 took his doctorate at Harvard in two years with a study of Principia Mathematica under Whitehead. A travelling fellowship then took him for a year to Vienna, Prague and Warsaw, where he heard Carnap lecture and met Tarski and the Polish logicians; that year fixed his direction.
He became a Harvard instructor in 1936 and stayed for over sixty years, professor from 1948, Peirce Professor from 1956 until his retirement in 1978. During the war he did cryptanalysis for the Navy. He wrote several logic textbooks and built his own set theory, New Foundations, while changing philosophy with a series of short papers. 'On What There Is' (1948) gave the criterion of ontological commitment: a theory is committed to whatever its quantifiers must range over; 'to be is to be the value of a bound variable'.
'Two Dogmas of Empiricism' (1951) is among the most influential philosophical papers of the century. The first dogma is the analytic–synthetic distinction, and Quine argued that 'analytic' cannot be defined without circularity; the second is reductionism, the idea that each statement can face experience alone. He replaced both with holism: our knowledge is a web that touches experience only at its edges, any statement can be held true given enough adjustment elsewhere, any can be given up, and the difference between logic and physics is one of degree. There is no boundary between philosophy and science.
Word and Object (1960) proposed the 'indeterminacy of translation': a linguist facing a wholly unknown language hears a native say 'gavagai' as a rabbit runs past and cannot settle whether it means rabbit, a rabbit time-slice or undetached rabbit parts; several incompatible translation manuals fit all the behavioural evidence, so there is no fact of the matter about meaning itself. 'Epistemology Naturalized' (1969) argued that epistemology should become a chapter of psychology, studying how people get from sensory stimulation to scientific theory. He visited over a hundred countries, spoke many languages and wrote all his life on the same typewriter. Davidson, Kripke, Putnam and the whole of contemporary analytic philosophy are replies to him.
There is no sharp line between analytic and synthetic truths, and no statement faces experience alone. Knowledge is a whole that meets experience only at its edges.
To be is to be the value of a bound variable. What a theory says exists is whatever its quantifiers must range over for it to be true.
Several incompatible translation manuals fit all the behavioural evidence, so there is no independent fact of the matter about meaning. Meaning lies in public dispositions to behaviour.
There is no first philosophy above science. Epistemology is part of science, studying how we get from sensory stimulation to theories of the world.
Like sailors we must rebuild our ship at sea, never in dry dock. Knowledge has no external foundation and can be revised only plank by plank from within.
He heard Carnap lecture in Prague in 1933 and called it his 'first intellectual engagement'; his life's work was a running argument with Carnap that ended by dismantling the analytic–synthetic distinction.
Principia Mathematica was his boyhood initiation; his doctoral thesis was a simplification of its logical system.
In his Dewey Lectures of 1968 he traced his naturalism to Dewey: knowledge, mind and meaning are natural phenomena to be studied by scientific method.
Quine was his teacher at Harvard and lifelong interlocutor; 'radical interpretation' reworks Quine's 'radical translation', understanding meaning from behaviour but through truth-conditions rather than stimulus meaning.
'Incommensurability' is the counterpart in the history of science of Quine's indeterminacy of translation: the terms of different paradigms cannot be fully translated into one another.
The argument of Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature rests on Quine's demolition of the analytic–synthetic distinction and Sellars's critique of the 'myth of the given', which together knock out the foundations of epistemology.
Quine had dismissed the essentialism of modal logic as an 'Aristotelian swamp'; Kripke's semantics put quantified modal logic on its feet and rehabilitated essentialism.