This week's New York Observer features an article by Anna Schneider-Mayerson, on Columbia Law School's current efforts to recruit major scholars, including Lani Guinier (at left, photo courtesy of Cornell Chronicle), the eminent Harvard Law School professor and leading scholar of progressive civil rights policies and practices, such as proportional voting systems. The piece covers the sort of ground that once would have been the purview of the now defunct magazine Lingua Franca. It discusses Columbia Law's creation of a new center civil-rights center and its desire to vault its intellectual reputation (back) into the topmost ranks with Yale's, Harvard's, and Stanford's law schools, in part via the intellectual and cultural work of Guinier.
What interested me most about the article beyond the tidbits about Columbia's institutional anxieties and the cultivation process of star faculty members was its recitation of the infamous episode in 1993 when right-wingers caricatured Guinier's scholarship and theories, labeling her "Quota Queen" and causing such a brouhaha that Bill Clinton, who'd nominated her to be Assistant Attorney General, withdrew the nomination. (Another aspect to this story that I'll never forget, beyond Bill Clinton's cowardice, was how super-operator Hillary Clinton's supposedly addressed Guinier, her former Yale Law School classmate and friend, in a white House hallway after her public humiliation and the president's rescission of the nomination: instead of consolation, the Senator and presidential wannabe flippantly and patronizingly called out, "Hey Kiddo!") Few Republicans in the White House, Congress or among the chattering class will admit to their shameful behavior towards Guinier or her ideas and work, or towards numerous other worthy, outstanding Clinton Cabinet and judicial nominees, which is one reason I laugh at their whining about legitimate Democratic Congressional inquiry into and opposition to the extremist views and rulings of Alito. One of the GOP lackeys claimed that Senator Ted Kennedy's questioning of Alito's membership in the Concerned Alumni of Princeton (CAP) was "nasty," "unfair" and "mean," among other ridiculous statements (especially given that Alito could remember his rulings perfectly but not only lied about not remembering his association with CAP, but recited Republican National Committee talking points about his desire to support ROTC--which had returned to Princeton by the time he joined CAP), but nothing that came out of Kennedy's or any other Democratic Judicial Committee's mouths has approached the nasty, distorting--mendacious--comments made about Guinier. The partisan poisoning of the well, so to speak, during the Clinton years has only worsened in recent years, with the Swift Boating of John Kerry and most recently Congressman John Murtha, and the character-assassination of any critics of the Warrantless Wiretapper.
Meanwhile, Guinier didn't look back. She went on to become the first Black woman tenured to the Harvard Law School faculty, and has continued to produce the kinds of important work that has so interested Columbia Law School. Voting systems much like the ones that brought her right-wing condemnation are in place throughout the world, and increase democratic representation were they in place across the United States.
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Today's New York Times Arts Section included a piece on another eminent figure in academe, the philosopher Saul Kripke (at right, courtesy of UNICAMP, Brazil), formerly of Rockefeller and Princeton Universities and now a distinguished professor at the City University of New York Graduate Center, which recently spent two days celebrating his achievements. The article, a two-page affair by Charles McGrath, titled "Philosopher, 65, Lectures Not About 'What Am I?' but 'What Is I?'," opens with a recitation of Kripke's boy-genius story--the son of an Omaha rabbi, he was publishing important philosophical papers while in his teens and teaching MIT graduate students while a Harvard undergraduate (though there's no mention of his having briefly been the roommate of the Unabomber, Theodore Kaczynski)--then goes on to describe, in impressionist terms, Kripke's method and his lecture, while managing to say only a little about his important work in modal logic and the philosophy of language, which is the source of his cultlike appeal. (He also includes a rather Eurocentric quip about how an ideal philosopher should look, which is hardly surprising given that this is McGrath piece.)
Kripke's most famous text is Naming and Necessity (Harvard, 1975, 1980, 2005), which collects three lectures from the early 1970s. Among its other accomplishments, this text detailed a causal theory of reference, as against the standing descriptivist theory of reference set forth by Sir Bertrand Russell and others, with respect to proper names; according to Kripke's reading, a name refers to an object as a result of a causal connection with the object, as mediated by a chain of reference through a community of speakers. As a result a proper name constitutes a rigid designator, which holds for what it refers regardless of any particular facts about the holder of the name and in all possible worlds. It was this particular Kripkean insight that dazzled me some years ago. (The other assertions in the book, on a posteriori necessities, were over my head.) Once I'd understood I thought I'd somehow entered some magical community of understanding, though after trying to properly restate the outlines of the theory to others, I quickly disabused myself of that. But I also became fascinated in Kripke's story, and, after reading Brent Staples' account of tracking Saul Bellow around the campus of Chicago (which I continue to believe Bellow transposed into the utterly indelible and racist confrontation scene in Mr. Sammler's Planet), I thought of writing a screenplay, titled (KRIPKE), that turned on a young (Black) man who was so fascinated by Kripke's philosophy that he literally followed Kripke around his lecture circuit across the US, recording his experiences with reference to Kripke's theories and discussions, with the tale culminating in his finally meeting and chatting with Kripke on a walkway in Princeton (but not at the University). One of the people I'd mentioned this to was a musician and author I knew, Sean H., who was familiar with Kripke's work, but he agreed with me that it perhaps was not the most dramatic story (even in documentary form), and that it would be difficult to convey Kripke's ideas in cinematic terms, and that in any case once I'd solved all the technical and formal script problems, there was the issue of salability. Who on earth would produce such a film? Not that I've completely given up the thought, but... I do wonder if transcripts of Kripke's fascinating-sounding talk will be part of a future volume edited by someone at the CUNY Grad Center.
Speaking of ideas over one's head, I'm sure your explanation of Kripke's causal theory of reference made a gazillion tons of sense to everyone else who reads this blog, but could you maybe think of a concrete example of the theory (for the slower kids, like me)?
ReplyDeleteKai in NYC
Kai,
ReplyDeleteI'm not so sure if it made any sense, which is one reason I sort of held off on the film. But to take the example of Kripke himself, let me try. When Kripke is born, his parents named him "Saul Kripke." As a result, this name becomes fixed. Kripke calls it a "baptism," but other terms would suffice. The parents tell others--friends, family members, teachers--the child's name is "Saul Kripke." Eventually Kripke himself tells others his name is Saul Kripke. "Saul Kripke" thus becomes the rigid designator for Saul Kripke throughout his life, regardless of any changes (short of death) in his personhood, or any knowledge that anyone--you, me--may have about specific aspects of his personhood. The name becomes fixed to the referent by being linked to the original parental act of naming via a causal chain among a community of speakers (Americans, people who know and do philosophy, readers of this blog, etc.). The proper name "Saul Kripke" thus refers to the philosopher "Saul Kripke" and him alone whether we know anything more or less about him than that he's a philosopher, lived in New Jersey, has taught in Israel, likes candy (I made that up), etc. There's is a qualification that the causal chain may be broken, and that another grounding or baptism takes place, in Kripke's presence. In a way this sounds almost self-evident, but prior theories of reference, such as the descriptive theory of reference, have had serious flaws that Kripke pointed out. For example, we can properly refer to people about whom we have no descriptive attributes (I can refer to you as Kai though I know nothing about you, except that you have baptized yourself--grounded yourself, through these exchanges--as "Kai (in NYC)." You clarified for me that you were not the other Kai (Wright). In a world in which we meet in person, or in the virtual world of the Internet (simulacral and real), you remain Kai (in NYC but not Kai Wright). Another point that Kripke makes is that the rigid designator Saul Kripke could refer to Saul Kripke based not on descriptions of what we know has happened to Saul Kripke (he published a mathematical paper at the age of 17, etc.), but what we think would or might happen to the person. So no fixed description is necessary. There's another key point he makes but I can't remember it. Even if you were to come up with a range of descriptions--a constellation of them, say--they might not apply, whereas Kripke's theory avoids this. I was thinking that it also works in fiction too, but that's another matter, I guess. Did this make any sense?
Actually, I shouldn't say "short of death," because a name inheres even after death. William Shakespeare remains the rigid designator for William Shakespeare four centuries after he lived, as does Harriet Tubman for Harriet Tubman, or Martin Luther King, Jr., etc. So in all possible worlds...
ReplyDeleteOk, I think I follow your example, although I don't think I quite get how the causal is an advancement over the descriptive theory. Isn't it the case that a proper name is simply the "description" prior to all others for a given object/subject, and that is why we can use it to refer to a given object/subject even when knowing nothing else about it/him/her? (If these questions are exasperatingly simpleminded, imagine it as rehearsal for making your screenplay comprehensible to undereducated masses. That's a joke. Sort of. I'm asking because I want to participate in the excitement you felt, but it's like those jokes the grownups were telling each other when you four- years-old: terribly exciting when the adults started cracking up. But why?)
ReplyDeleteKai in NYC
Kai, I'll try to be clearer tomorrow when I have a free moment.
ReplyDeleteOkay, Kai, the descriptive theory suggests that
ReplyDelete-in referring to the referent we refer to some definite descriptive aspect of her or him (Kripke is a professor of philosophy at CUNY Grad Center and has a white beard);
-we refer to referents for whom the sole identifying descriptions we know refer to the person as we believe they should (Kripke was the mentor of X, Kripke has eaten many times at the Princeton Inn, Kripke lived in Cambridge from 1958-1962, etc.)
-a definite description does not refer to the referent hypothetically (If Kripke had received a doctorate at MIT he might have stayed there and never taught at Princeton)
With the causal theory, the first case is avoided because the name is affixed initially and passed on, through multiple groundings, regardless of any definite descriptive aspect of Kripke.
In the second case, we could say we know we're referring to Kripke whether or not anyone else satisfies these definite descriptions.
In the third case, the fact that he taught for years at Princeton might be viewed as a key aspect of the meaning of who Kripke is, where as in the causal theory the name "Kripke" refers rigidly to the person we know as Kripke, no matter what facts exist about Kripke, or if there are any particular facts (except his essential being in the world, and his having been "baptized" or "dubbed" and subsequently "grounded" as "Kripke") at all. Kripke does talk to some extent about the problems of this theory, but I gather that it was pretty important then (and still is, as it can be used, in terms of non proper-names) and still is, at least in the philosophy of language.
I actually am writing a short story, of a very different sort, that plays with this idea a little, to dangerous ultimate effect. When I'm done with it perhaps I'll post it. If I am not clear, my apologies. There are even greater subtleties in Kripke's thoughts on this matter in NAMING AND NECESSITY, so if you are up for some philosophical heavy lifting, I'd say check out the book.
I'm dying to see where this all goes. Perhaps I'll check out the book. What I think I see you arguing, John (or saying that he argues) is that the name holds some meaning beyond what goes with it. Is this right? Or is he arguing that the name stands in for and then fixes a person's identity to the other facts we know about him or her?
ReplyDeleteThank you, John. I think I will head over to B&N to sit in the cafe and puzzle over the book for an hour or two.
ReplyDeleteKai in NYC
Mendi, I think you're right on in saying that the name stands in for and then fixes a person's identity--a particular person as a natural kind--to it, both in addition to and regardless of any any other facts we know about her. So Mendi O. is always Mendi O., and every grounding of Mendi O. extends the unique natural kind--the referent--referred to by Mendi O. Even though there could be another person with very similar experiences, facts, and so on to your own. Other philosophers of language extended this to other kinds of semantic references, such as tree, water, house, etc.--I have only a basic working knowledge of the philosophy of language, but it does fascinate me quite a bit.
ReplyDeleteI'm a philosophy undergaduate at Cal Poly SLO in California, US; currently taking a Philosophy of Langauge course. I'm writing a short paper on Kripke's "Naming and Necessity" right now, and it's giving me fits. I feel like I am close to having a firm grasp on Kripke's causal theory, but am not quite there yet. He seems to refute descriptivism, yet I wonder if he isn't borrowing a bit from it for his own theory. Maybe I'm misunderstanding... Am wondering if maybe some of the theses of descriptivism might not be as easily refuted as Kripke claims they are, particularly theses (2) and (4)... Still struggling with digesting and understanding this text. (How to summarize & critique it in 3-4 pages? Ugh)... Any comments/thoughts would be appreciated, even if they are posthomous to my submitting this paper... Props to Kripke, he is the man.
ReplyDelete