Copyright © 2005 Bruce W. Hauptli

In his "Can the Skeptic Live His Skepticism?"1 Myles Burnyeat considers the traditional objection to skepticism which holds that skeptics propound a view that they can not put into practice. In raising this objection, Hume says that "...though a Pyrrhonian may throw himself or others into a momentary amazement and confusion by his profound reasonings; the first and most trivial event in life will put to flight all his doubts and scruples, and leave him in the same, in every point of action and speculation, with philosophers of every other sect...."2  Burnyeat contends that while this objection is frequently raised, it is not generally supported by any argument.  While a skeptical life seems an impossibility, Sextus and other Pyrrhonists recognize this objection but deny its force; and, thus, a detailed argument that such a human life is impossible is called for.  Burnyeat’s article is a rich examination of the classical skeptical orientation and of this traditional objection, and he attempts to provide the requisite anti-skeptical argument.  I believe that his argument does not succeed in showing the impossibility of living the life of a Pyrrhonistic skeptic, and I support that contention here.

     Burnyeat contends that the Pyrrhonistic skeptics intend to meet the objection that their actions belie their claim that they have no beliefs.3  According to him, instead of believing, Pyrrhonians assent only where they are constrained to do so:

look through a sample of skeptic arguments and you will find that a great number of them end by saying that one is forced to suspend judgment, the word most commonly used being "anagkazo," the same word as describes our passive relationship to an impression of sense and the assent it engages.  The skeptic assents only when his assent is constrained; and equally, when he withholds assent, suspends judgment, this is because he finds himself constrained to do so.  A marked passivity in the face of both his sensations and his own thought processes is an important aspect of the skeptic’s detachment from himself. (p. 131)
Burnyeat maintains that Sextus meets the traditional criticism not by recommending lethargy but, rather, by ...acknowledging the role of bodily drives like hunger and thirst and by the rest of the fourfold scheme of activity,4 saying that of course the skeptic will have his preconceptions, the result of being brought up in certain forms of life...and these will prompt him to act one way or the other.  But the point is that he does not identify with the values involved.  He notes that they have left him with inclinations to pursue some things and to avoid others, but he does not believe there is any reason to prefer the things he pursues over those he avoids. (p. 132) The Pyrrhonistic skeptic avoids "dogmatic belief" because she recognizes that the arguments offered for and against a belief are equally compelling.  Lacking a criterion of truth, she neither believes nor disbelieves.  This suspension of belief does not lead to a suspension of action however. When she acts, she "follows appearances."

     The Pyrrhonian skeptic who follows appearances is not limited to the following sensory appearances.  In addition to this "guidance of nature," Burnyeat points out, Sextus speaks of the compulsion of bodily drives, the constraints imposed by law and custom, and the constraints imposed by one’s profession.  These constraints allow for activity not by legitimating belief but, rather, by compelling the skeptic to "follow the appearances."  She does not claim to believe (claim that what she assents to is true) but rather, explains her action by appealing to these constraints.  While the belief that p and the belief that not p are equally warranted, "...things that appear lead us to assent (sc. to them) aboluetos, without our willing it, in accordance with the impression they affect us with...." (p. 129).

     There is, of course, a difference between "assenting to appearances" and "following them."  Burnyeat maintains that "the skeptic assents only when his assent is constrained" (p. 131) and he contends that this assent: simply the acknowledging of what is happening to him, and the compulsion to assent, to acknowledge what is happening to him, is equally simple. It is not that there is resistance to overcome, but that there can be no dispute about the what the impression is; it is azetetos, not open to inquiry. The impression is just the way something appears to one, and assent to it is just acknowledging that this is indeed how the thing appears at the moment. (p. 130) Such simple assenting is not acting (or, at least, it would appear to be no more than an inward act).  Since the Pyrrhonist is supposed to "follow the appearances," the assent which is compelled must also engender action.  Burnyeat speaks both of assent as compelled (pp. 130-131) and of the compulsion of percipience, bodily drives, customs, and professional practices which provide the appearances which constitute "the criterion by which" (p. 126) the Pyrrhonist lives her life.

     Burnyeat is simply following Sextus’ lead at this point however.  In one discussion Sextus appears to begin by speaking of simple assent saying that " one, I suppose, disputes that the underlying object has this or that appearance; the point in dispute is whether the object is in reality such as it appears to be."5  But the next sentence (and the ensuing discussion) seems to speak of action: "adhering, then, to appearances we live in accordance with the normal rules of life, undogmatically, seeing that we cannot remain wholly inactive." (PH I 23).  The next sentence discusses the fourfold types of compulsions, and, then, Sextus rounds out the passage by saying that:

nature’s guidance is that by which we are naturally capable of sensation and thought; constraint of the passions is that whereby hunger drives us to food and thirst to drink; tradition of customs and laws, that whereby we regard piety in the conduct of life as good, but impiety as evil; instruction of the arts, that whereby we are not inactive in such arts as we adopt. But we make all these statements undogmatically. (PH I 24) It is not clear whether there are two compulsions here (one compelling simple assent and another compelling action given the perception, passion, tradition, or professional practice [and/or the compelled assent]), or whether there is one compulsion which compels both assent and action.  The most recent citation perhaps suggests a single compulsion—assenting to the appearance of hunger (without committing oneself to the belief) appears to drive one to seek food.  Moreover Sextus introduces the above discussion by maintaining that the Skeptic’s "standard of action" (or criterion) is "...the appearance, giving this name to what is virtually the sense-perception." (PH I 22)  However many compulsions are involved, however, Burnyeat seems correct when he contends that Sextus would respond to Hume’s objection " acknowledging the role of bodily drives...and by the rest of the fourfold scheme of activity...." (p. 132).6

     Like Hume, then, the Pyrrhonian skeptic recognizes the strength of nature, but for her it determines assent and not belief (since the latter is connected with truth).  What she objects to is not assenting to the appearances but, rather, accepting any of them as true.  She would avoid dogmatic belief by detaching herself from the search for truth and assenting only where constrained to do so.  She offers skeptical arguments designed to produce suspension of belief—arguments designed to show that each belief claim has a contrary which has equal force of reason behind it.  While she recommends suspension of belief, she allows for assent where one is constrained (by the appearances), and, thus, she is able to act.

     Burnyeat argues that while this line of argument may rescue the Pyrrhonian from the traditional charge that her doctrine is incoherent with her day-to-day practice, it yields incoherence on a "higher level."  That is, he maintains that while the Pyrrhonist’s "first-level assents" may fall short of beliefs (and thus allow her to act without sacrificing her commitment to suspension of belief), this suspension is premised upon the acceptance of some "second-level" beliefs:

remember that we know perfectly well why it appears to the skeptic that any dogmatic claim has a contrary equally worthy or unworthy of acceptance.  It is the result of a set of arguments designed to show, compellingly, that this is in fact the case.  Such arguments can compel him to suspend judgment because they compel him to accept their conclusion—to accept, that is, that in each and every case dogmatic claims are indeed equally balanced and hence that one ought to suspend judgment.  (Which is often enough, of course, the way Sextus does conclude his arguments.)  But accepting the conclusion that p is true on the basis of a certain argument is hardly to be distinguished from coming to believe that p is true with that argument as one’s reason.  In being shown that there is as much, or as little, reason to believe the first-level proposition that honey is bitter as that it is sweet, the skeptic has been given reason to believe the second-level proposition that the reasons for and against are equally balanced.  In being shown, both on general grounds and by the accumulation of instances, that no claim about real existence is to be preferred to its denial, one has, again, been given reason to believe that generalization true.  Certainly it appears to him that dogmatic claims are equally balanced, but this appearance, so called, being the effect of argument, is only to be made sense of in terms of reason, belief and truth—the very notions the skeptic is most anxious to avoid. (p. 138) While on the first-level the Pyrrhonian skeptic may be able to consistently claim that it appears that honey is sweet while not believing this (assenting to it because of the compulsion of the appearances without believing it), the overall attainment of first-level belief-suspension requires that she accept, on the second-level, claims like "contrary claims have equal strength."  In the case of these claims, however, one may not distinguish assent from belief.  If the Pyrrhonist were to attempt to do so, ...he is detaching himself from the person (namely, himself) who was convinced by the argument, and he is treating his own thought as if it were the thought of someone else, someone thinking thoughts within him.  He is saying, in effect, "It is thought within me that p, but I do not believe it."  In the right circumstances, that could be said.  But not all the time, for every appearance/thought one has. (p. 140) According to Burnyeat, then, the skeptical life is impossible because the first-level belief-suspension will be possible only if the Pyrrhonist believes various second-level claims as the result of her arguments.  Thus the traditional objection is sustained (albeit for different reasons from those traditionally advanced).

     I believe that there are two lines of response open to the Pyrrhonist.  First, she may modify her view saying that (or contending that she always meant to say that) what we should strive for is "first-level belief-suspension" (that we should accept no first-level beliefs).  While consistency is purchased at the price of explicitly accepting Burnyeat’s argument, this may not be as unsatisfactory a skeptical position as it may first appear to be.  According to Burnyeat, acceptance of the second-level beliefs requires accepting certain seemingly analytic statements (for example, that arguments which establish that claims are equally balanced require suspension of belief since claims of equal warrant deserve equal treatment), and believing that arguments are available which will show that contrary first-level claims have equal strength.  The Pyrrhonist could allow that Burnyeat is right that on the second-level one can not distinguish assent and belief, but the Pyrrhonist would contend that this explains why a skeptic could allow such beliefs without sacrificing much of her position—her primary claim (she would contend) is that first-level "dogmatic" beliefs (which posit particular real existences) must not be accepted.  Since the second-level beliefs do not posit such real existences, believing them constitutes little (or no) deviation from the recommended suspension of belief.

     One can motivate this sort of response by appeal to Burnyeat’s own remarks.  As he comments upon the arguments which Sextus advances regarding first-level beliefs, he notes that they are best construed as reminders intended to aid us as we seek tranquility.  According to Sextus, these argument patterns are meant to develop

a capacity for bringing into opposition, in any way whatever, things that appear and things that are thought, so that, owing to the equal strength of the opposed items and rival claims, we come first to suspend judgment and after that to atagraxia (tranquility, freedom from disturbance).7 They are not intended to express beliefs about real existences.  Instead, they are intended to aid us in avoiding first-level belief (to aid us in living a life without first-level belief).  Such a life is not easily lived—constant attention is required to avoid moving from assent to belief on the first-level (and the Pyrrhonist’s arguments are intended to help serve to inhibit this movement).  While Burnyeat might be right that one can not distinguish assent and belief on the second-level, it is important to correctly characterize what it is that the Pyrrhonist would believe on the second-level.  Rather than believing propositions about real existences, she may contend, she believes certain analytic statements (which make no claims about real existences) and believes that certain argument forms will be generally conducive toward the goal of inhibiting the move on the first-level from assent to belief. As Burnyeat notes, time and time again Sextus warns that skeptic formulae such as "I determine nothing" and "No more this than that" (PH I 15), or the conclusion of skeptic arguments like "Everything is relative (PH I 135), or indeed the entire contents of his treatise (PH I 4), are to be taken as mere records of appearance.  Like a chronicle (PH I 4), they record how each thing appears to the skeptic, announcing or narrating how it affects him (his pathos) without committing him to the belief or assertion that anything really and truly is as it appears to him to be (cf. also PH I 197). (p. 127) Speaking of the Pyrrhonist’s pronouncements, Sextus informs his readers that "...most important of all, in his enunciation of these formulae, he states what appears to himself and announces his own impression in an undogmatic way, without making any positive assertion regarding the external realities" (PH I 15].  Rather than inconsistently adhering to second-level beliefs which show that the Pyrrhonistic life of avoidance of first-level beliefs about real existence can not be lived, then, the Pyrrhonist’s second-level beliefs enable her to live a consistent life.

     Secondly, the Pyrrhonist could, instead, contend that her assent on the second-level is itself constrained.  That is, contra Burnyeat, she might claim that the second-level arguments and claims are not believed but, rather, assented to.  Here it would be the practices and customs of thought which constrain assent (whereas on the first-level it was percipience, desire, custom, and professional training).  Instead of claiming that certain philosophical arguments and beliefs are true, she would contend that skeptical inquiries and examinations lead her to assent to claims like "No more this than that," and "Everything is relative."  This response to Burnyeat’s argument is both more interesting and more promising because it addresses his claim that on the second-level one can not distinguish belief and assent.  The Pyrrhonist could contend that the tendency to move from assent to belief on the second-level would itself be a function of the forces which compel our assent on this level, and the "methodological" remarks which Sextus offers about the second-level assertions would be intended to block the tendency to slide from assent to belief on this level.

     Of course this response raises the specter of a regress—Burnyeat could reply that it merely delays the problem since the assent on the second-level will be the result of some third-level beliefs which the skeptic accepts as true.  Clearly, a life based on acceptance of beliefs on some higher-level is not a life without belief, and since the Pyrrhonist’s life is to be one which avoids belief, the Pyrrhonist can not live such a life if she believes on some higher level.  This argument presumes that the skeptic accepts (rather than assents) on the higher level, however, and this claim deserves closer scrutiny.

     Burnyeat offers three arguments for the claim that the Pyrrhonist’s lower-level assent must be based upon higher-level belief.  First he claims that "...accepting the conclusion that p is true on the basis of a certain argument is hardly to be distinguished from coming to believe that p is true with that argument as one’s reason." (p.138)  Second, he claims that if the Pyrrhonist did not have higher-level beliefs as the result of her arguments that contrary lower-level claims are equally balanced, it is hard " see why this should produce tranquility rather than acute anxiety." (p. 139)  That is, if the Pyrrhonist really was pulled equally by contrary claims on the lower-level, and if she did not have any higher-level beliefs, then it is as likely that she would be agitated by this as it is that she would suspend judgment (and achieve tranquility).  According to Burnyeat, "...ataraxia is hardly to be attained if he is not in some sense satisfied...that no answers are forthcoming, that contrary claims are indeed equal.  And my question is: How can Sextus then deny that this is something he believes?" (p. 140)  Third, Burnyeat claims that while the distinction between assent and belief may make sense on the lower-level where one may distinguish between the sensory impression, one’s assent to it, and one’s belief that it is true:

in the philosophical case, the impression, when all is said and done, simply is my assent to the conclusion of an argument, assent to it as true.  That is the danger of allowing talk about appearances or impressions of thought: it comes to seem legitimate to treat states which are in fact states of belief, presupposing assent, as if they were independent of assent in the way that sense-impressions can be.  For if, beneath its disguise as a mere passive affection, the philosophical impression includes assent, it ought to make no sense for the skeptic to insist that he does not assent to it as true.  That would be to contemplate a further act of assent to the assent already given.  If the skeptic does insist, if he refuses to identify with his assent, he is as it were detaching himself from the person (namely, himself) who was convinced by the argument.... (p. 140) If the Pyrrhonist’s response regarding the higher-level "assents" is to hold much promise, then, the distinction between assent and belief must, contra Burnyeat, make sense here.  The picture Burnyeat paints of the Pyrrhonist’s second-level moves portrays her as employing rational arguments to establish the equipollence of contrary first-level claims.  Thus she is hoist by her own petard—employing the apparatus of philosophical argumentation, she seeks to warrant meta-level claims about the object-level and, at best, may claim that object-level beliefs are to be eschewed.  Here the Pyrrhonist is portrayed as using reason to attempt to establish the poverty of reason (here another of the traditional critiques of skepticism looms), and the self-refuting character of her endeavor seems to warrant the claim that the life-style which she champions is an impossible one.

     In evaluating this picture of the Pyrrhonist’s procedure on the second-level we must recall the many warnings which Sextus provides regarding the non-dogmatic character of the Pyrrhonist’s pronouncements.  Suppose we take him at his word when he says that in "...none of our future statements do we positively affirm that the fact is exactly as we state it, but we simply record each fact, like a chronicler, as it appears to us at the moment." (PH I 1).  Chroniclers do not generally present rational arguments.  Instead they tell tales.  Good chroniclers, of course, tell tales which report events which did occur—thus the distinction between chronicles and works of historical fiction.  Sextus would offer a unique sort of chronicle however.  First, the "events" which are chronicled are philosophical arguments—the Pyrrhonist records arguments which are about first-level claims.  Second, like all chroniclers, the Pyrrhonist has a purpose in mind.  Indeed, like most chroniclers, her purpose is one of "moral education."  But whereas ordinary chroniclers portray lives or historical events in order to educate us (whether by good or bad example) as to how life ought to be led, the Pyrrhonist chronicles philosophical arguments with the same end-in-view.

     It is important to note that there is all the difference in the world between chronicling arguments and arguing however.  The Pyrrhonistic chronicler reports (indeed, reports appearances according to Sextus) rather than argues.8  As every instructor of introductory philosophy knows, students too frequently fail to distinguish philosophical argumentation from the chronicling of the same—they mistakenly believe that they may chronicle arguments when their instructors demand that they advance arguments.  Should the Pyrrhonist accept the philosophy instructors’ demands however?  If she does (if she advances arguments as reasons for certain second-level theses), she falls prey to Burnyeat’s critique.  Suppose, however, that she refuses the philosophy instructors’ demands (and offers a chronicle rather than an argument).  In that case her second-level remarks will not constitute an attempt to advance a philosophical thesis by reasoned argument, and her first-level assent would not be based upon argumentation in the manner Burnyeat imagines.  Instead of arguing (and, thus asserting) on the higher-level, she would report how the arguments appear to her, and from this appearance her suspense of judgment would result.

     Her technique for bringing about this state (and ultimately the tranquility which she seeks) would not be by arguing but, rather, by chronicling philosophical argumentation.  Instead of arguing for the conclusion that " each and every case dogmatic claims are indeed equally balanced and hence that one ought to suspend judgment" (p. 138), she would chronicle various philosophical arguments, and this chronicle would be offered to aid both her and others in forestalling the move on the first-level from assent to belief.

     Burnyeat maintains that "...accepting the conclusion that p is true on the basis of a certain argument is hardly to be distinguished from coming to believe that p is true with that argument as one’s reason." (p.138)  He also claims that the Pyrrhonist uses "reason to...destroy all trust in reason itself" (p. 133) and he speaks of the individual who lives without belief as someone who has been "converted by the skeptic arguments." (p. 126)  I do not want to deny that someone may well advance the arguments which the Pyrrhonist chronicles.  Nor do I wish to deny that some skeptics may advance exactly the sorts of arguments which Burnyeat puts in the mouths of the Pyrrhonist.9  What I wish to deny is Burnyeat’s claim that the Pyrrhonist’s methodological remarks must be taken as assertions (as beliefs that certain higher-level claims are in fact true).

     If we construe the Pyrrhonist’s remarks along the lines of chronicle rather than argumentation, then these remarks need not be construed as assertions—they may be reports of how the philosophical arguments appear to the Pyrrhonist.  Moreover, these appearances may compel the Pyrrhonist’s assent no less than the appearances which arise out of the senses, the passions, the traditions, and the professional practices.

     Tranquility rather than anxiety can be produced by such a chronicle or report just because it does not argue.  The preferred moral is not drawn from the tale by deduction (after all, one may be able to "deduce" that "the race will go to the swift if they remain awake" with as much ease as one may be able to draw the traditional "conclusion").  Instead, the moral flows from the chronicle or report given the chronicler’s skill in telling the story.  It is in the telling of (or hearing of) the tale that one is "led" to the chosen moral, and the Pyrrhonist would tell a tale which would aid both herself and us in suspending judgment and, thus, achieving tranquility.

     In speaking of assent without belief, the Pyrrhonist need not recommend an impossible detachment from herself.  Were she attempting to advance arguments without assertion and belief, she would indeed be attempting such an impossible task.  Since she is not advancing arguments, the detachment she recommends is not impossible (at least not on the cited grounds).  On the higher-level, as on the lower-level, the chronicling Pyrrhonist recommends that we assent only where compelled.  Moreover, she claims, the chronicle which she sets out for us compels us to assent to the appearance that the lower-level claims are equally warranted and, thus, leads us to suspend judgment.  The chronicling Pyrrhonist recognizes the human tendency to move from assent to belief, indeed it is just this move she would forestall. She need not make this move on the second-level to forestall it on the first one however.  Her chronicles of the philosophical arguments do not constitute an attempt to divorce an arguer and her argumentative conclusions but, rather, they are meant to facilitate a self-conscious and consistent marriage of appearances and the appeared-to individual—a condition wherein one attends to the philosophical appearances and assents to them only when compelled to do so.

     The compulsion fostered by the appearances on the higher-level, is not significantly different from the compulsion on the lower level.  Assent is actively compelled by our capacity for percipience only when we are perceiving.  Similarly we will be compelled to assent on the second-level only when the various chronicles are clearly set out before us.  In chronicling the various second-level arguments, the Pyrrhonist is attending to these appearances in order to foster the suspension of belief on the first-level and, thus, attain tranquility.  The skeptic’s plight here is not that she must argue for her skepticism but, rather, that she must constantly keep the chronicle of the philosophic appearances before her so that she will not be led from first-level assent to first-level belief.  Attending to such appearances, and assenting to them, however, does not amount to asserting or believing on the second-level (nor on any higher-level).  Instead, the chronicler records the appearances in hopes that they will facilitate the purposes of the chronicle.

      Of course, if what I offer here is an adequate response to Burnyeat’s argument, it can not constitute a third-level Pyrrhonistic argument. It must itself be a chronicle, report, or description of the Pyrrhonistic methodology—a meta-chronicle told not to argue for Pyrrhonism but, rather, to facilitate the suspension of belief and the attainment of tranquility.  But for the human tendency to move from assent to the appearances to belief in real existences, these Pyrrhonistic "ladders" could be finally discarded.  Given this tendency, however, constant reminders are necessary if dogmatism (on any level) is to be avoided.  If this skeptical response is consistent, it may help philosophers understand the necessity for the sort of attack which philosophers like Wittgenstein and Quine mount against skepticism.10  Rather than arguing against the skeptics, these philosophers offer differing sorts of therapy designed to show how the skeptics’ orientations are fundamentally misconceived.  Chronicles are not refuted, they are shown to be inadequate records by alternate chronicles which more adequately reflect the appearances.  But this, of course, is a different story.  


1 This article originally appeared in Doubt and Dogmatism, eds. M. Schofield, M. Burnyeat, and J. Barnes (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980).  It is reprinted in The Skeptical Tradition, ed. Myles Burnyeat (Berkeley: University of California, 1983), pp. 117-148; and all citations to it here are to that source.   Back

2 David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding [1748], Section XII.  Cited from Hume's Enquiries, ed. L.A. Selby-Biggie (Oxford, Oxford U.P., 1902), p. 160.   Back

3 Burnyeat maintains that contemporary discussions of skepticism take the skeptics’ target to be knowledge rather than belief.  According to him, the Pyrrhonian skeptics wished to claim not merely that we should not claim to know, but that we should not believe either (cf., pp. 118-119).   Back

4 See below for an explanation of the “fourfold scheme.”   Back

5 Outlines of Pyrrhonism I 22 in volume I of Sextus Empiricus volumes I-IV, trans. R.G. Bury (Cambridge: Harvard U.P.; v. I: 1933, v. II: 1935, v. III: 1936, v. IV: 1949).  Citations or references to Sextus which are not from Burnyeat’s article will be from R.G. Bury’s translation and they will be followed by PH and the appropriate reference.   Back

6 Cf., PH I 25-30, PH II 246, and Against the Ethicists 162-166 (in v. III of Bury’s translation—often cited as AM (or M) XI 162-166).   Back

7 This passage is translated by Burnyeat on p. 120 of his article.  Cf., PH I 8.   Back

8 Burnyeat recognizes that Sextus would treat his treatise as a chronicle and he draws the reader’s attention to the fact that Sextus does not mean to limit “appearances” to “sensory appearances:” “...the practice of argumentative inquiry is so considerable a portion of the skeptic’s way of life that they must certainly be included under the skeptic criterion.  They are one outcome, surely, and a most important outcome, of his natural capacity for percipience and thought.” (p. 127)  Indeed, my disagreement with Burnyeat is sparked by his own discussion—I agree that it is important that we recognize that the Pyrrhonists wished to talk about the compelling nature of our thoughts as well as our perceptual experiences.  I disagree with Burnyeat as to whether this compulsion requires that one assert as well as assent.   Back

9 Indeed Sextus sometimes encourages the interpretation Burnyeat offers.  In PH II 79 he says that while in setting up “counter-arguments” against the dogmatists’ arguments “...we do not positively affirm either that they are true or that they are more plausible than their opposites, yet because of the apparently equal plausibility of these arguments and of those propounded by the Dogmatists, we deduce suspension of judgement.”  Burnyeat could contend, of course, that to “deduce” the suspension of judgment is to follow exactly the course he has charted (and to commit oneself to second-level beliefs).  While this and similar passages allow for Burnyeat’s reading, I contend that when Sextus is speaking of his methodology most carefully his remarks are most naturally construed along the chronicling metaphor.   Back

10 Cf., L. Wittgenstein’s On Certainty, trans. G.E.M. Anscome and G.H. von Wright (New York: Harper, 1969), and W.V. Quine’s “Things and Their Place in Theories,” in his Theories and Things (Cambridge: Harvard U.P., 1981).   Back

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