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We are up against trouble caused by our way of expression.
We are up against trouble caused by our way of expression.


Another such trouble, closely akin, is expressed in the sentence: “I can only know that I have personal experiences, not that anyone else has”. – Shall we then call it an unnecessary hypothesis that anyone else has personal experiences? – But is it an hypothesis at all? For how can I even make {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,80}} the hypothesis if it transcends all possible experience? How could such a hypothesis be backed by meaning? (Is it not like paper money, not backed by gold?) – It doesn't help if anyone tells us that, though we don't know whether the other person has pains, we certainly believe it when, for instance, we pity him. Certainly we shouldn't pity him if we didn't believe that he had pains; but is this a philosophical, a metaphysical, belief: Does a realist pity me more than an idealist or a solipsist? – In fact the solipsist asks: “How can we believe that the other has pain; what does it mean to believe this? How can the expression of such a supposition make sense?” Now the answer of the common sense philosopher (which, N.B., is not the common sense man, who is as far from realism as from idealism) the answer of the common sense philosopher is that surely there is no difficulty in the idea of supposing, thinking, imagining, that someone else has what I have. But the trouble with the realist is always that he does not solve but skip the difficulties which his adversaries see, though they too don't succeed in solving them. The realist answer, for us, just brings out the difficulty; for who argues like this overlooks the difference between different usages of the words “to have”, “to imagine”. “A has a gold tooth” means that the tooth is in A's mouth. Now the case of his toothache, of which I say I am not able to feel it because it is in his mouth, is not analogous to the case of the gold {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,81}} tooth. It is the apparent analogy, and again the lack of analogy, between these cases which causes our trouble. And it is this troublesome feature in our grammar which the realist does not notice. It is conceivable that I feel pain in a tooth in another man's mouth; and the man who says that he cannot feel the other's toothache is not denying this. The grammatical difficulty which we are in we shall only see clearly if we get familiar with the idea of feeling pain in another person's body. For otherwise, in puzzling about this problem, we shall be liable to confuse our metaphysical proposition “I can't feel his pain” with the experiential proposition, “We can't have (haven't as a rule) pains in another person's tooth”. In this proposition the word “can't” is used in the same way as in the proposition “An iron nail can't scratch glass”. (We could write this in the form “experience teaches that an iron nail doesn't scratch glass”, thus doing away with the “can't”). In order to see that it is conceivable that one person should have pain in another person's body, one must examine what sort of facts we call criteria for a pain being in a certain place. It is easy to imagine the following case: When I see my hands I am not always aware of their connection with the rest of my body. That is to say, I often see my hand moving but don't see the arm which connects it to my torso. Nor do I necessarily, at the time, check up on the arm's existence in any other way. Therefore the hand may, for all I know, be connected to the {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,82}} body of a man standing beside me (or, of course, not to a human body at all). Suppose I feel a pain which in the evidence of the pain alone, e.g., with closed eyes, I should call a pain in my left hand. Someone asks me to touch the painful spot with my right hand. I do so and looking round perceive that I am touching my neighbour's hand (meaning the hand connected to my neighbour's torso.)
Another such trouble, closely akin, is expressed in the sentence: “I can only know that I have personal experiences, not that anyone else has”. – Shall we then call it an unnecessary hypothesis that anyone else has personal experiences? – But is it an hypothesis at all? For how can I even make {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,80}} the hypothesis if it transcends all possible experience? How could such a hypothesis be backed by meaning? (Is it not like paper money, not backed by gold?) – It doesn't help if anyone tells us that, though we don't know whether the other person has pains, we certainly believe it when, for instance, we pity him. Certainly we shouldn't pity him if we didn't believe that he had pains; but is this a philosophical, a metaphysical, belief: Does a realist pity me more than an idealist or a solipsist? – In fact the solipsist asks: “How ''can'' we believe that the other has pain; what does it mean to believe this? How can the expression of such a supposition make sense?” Now the answer of the common sense philosopher (which, N.B., is not the common sense man, who is as far from realism as from idealism) the answer of the common sense philosopher is that surely there is no difficulty in the idea of supposing, thinking, imagining, that someone else has what I have. But the trouble with the realist is always that he does not solve but skip the difficulties which his adversaries see, though they too don't succeed in solving them. The realist answer, for us, just brings out the difficulty; for who argues like this overlooks the difference between different usages of the words “to have”, “to imagine”. “A has a gold tooth” means that the tooth is in A's mouth. Now the case of his toothache, of which I say I am not able to feel it because it is in his mouth, is not analogous to the case of the gold {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,81}} tooth. It is the apparent analogy, and again the lack of analogy, between these cases which causes our trouble. And it is this troublesome feature in our grammar which the realist does not notice. It is conceivable that I feel pain in a tooth in another man's mouth; and the man who says that he cannot feel the other's toothache is not denying ''this''. The grammatical difficulty which we are in we shall only see clearly if we get familiar with the idea of feeling pain in another person's body. For otherwise, in puzzling about this problem, we shall be liable to confuse our metaphysical proposition “I can't feel his pain” with the experiential proposition, “We can't have (haven't as a rule) pains in another person's tooth”. In this proposition the word “can't” is used in the same way as in the proposition “An iron nail can't scratch glass”. (We could write this in the form “experience teaches that an iron nail ''doesn't'' scratch glass”, thus doing away with the “can't”). In order to see that it is conceivable that one person should have pain in another person's body, one must examine what sort of facts we call criteria for a pain being in a certain place. It is easy to imagine the following case: When I see my hands I am not always aware of their connection with the rest of my body. That is to say, I often see my hand moving but don't see the arm which connects it to my torso. Nor do I necessarily, at the time, check up on the arm's existence in any other way. Therefore the hand may, for all I know, be connected to the {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,82}} body of a man standing beside me (or, of course, not to a human body at all). Suppose I feel a pain which in the evidence of the pain alone, e.g., with closed eyes, I should call a pain in my left hand. Someone asks me to touch the painful spot with my right hand. I do so and looking round perceive that I am touching my neighbour's hand (meaning the hand connected to my neighbour's torso.)


Ask yourself: How do we know where to point to when we are asked to point to the painful spot? Can this sort of pointing be compared with pointing to a black spot on a sheet of paper when someone says: “point to the black spot on this sheet.” Suppose someone said “You point to this spot because you know before you point that the pains are there”; ask yourself “What does it mean to know that the pains are there?” The word “there” refers to a locality; – but in what space, i.e., a “locality” in what sense? Do we know the place of pain in Euclidian space, so that when we know where we have pains we know how far away from two of the walls of this room, and from the floor? When I have pain in the tip of my finger and touch my tooth with it, is my pain now both a toothache and a pain in my finger? Certainly in one sense the pain can be said to be located on the tooth. Is the reason why in this case it is wrong to say I have toothache, that in order to be in the tooth the pain should be one sixteenth of an inch away from the tip of my finger? Remember that the word “where” can refer to localities in many different {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,83}} senses. (Many different grammatical games, resembling each other more or less, are played with this word. Think of the different uses of the numeral “1”.) I may know where a thing is and then point to it by virtue of that knowledge. The knowledge tells me where to point to. We here conceived this knowledge as the condition for deliberately pointing to the object. Thus one can say: “I can point to the spot you mean because I see it”, “I can direct you to the place because I know where it is; first turning to the right, etc.” Now one is inclined to say “I must know where a thing is before I can point to it”. Perhaps you will feel less happy about saying: “I must know where a thing is before I can look at it”. Sometimes of course it is correct to say this. But we are tempted to think that there is one particular psychical state or event, the knowledge of the place, which must precede every deliberate act of pointing, moving towards, etc. Think of the analogous case: “One can only obey an order after having understood it”.
Ask yourself: How do we know where to point to when we are asked to point to the painful spot? Can this sort of pointing be compared with pointing to a black spot on a sheet of paper when someone says: “point to the black spot on this sheet.” Suppose someone said “You point to this spot because you know before you point that the pains are there”; ask yourself “What does it mean to ''know'' that the pains are there?” The word “there” refers to a locality; – but in what space, i.e., a “locality” in what sense? Do we know the place of pain in Euclidian space, so that when we know where we have pains we know how far away from two of the walls of this room, and from the floor? When I have pain in the tip of my finger and touch my tooth with it, is my pain now both a toothache and a pain in my finger? Certainly in one sense the pain can be said to be located on the tooth. Is the reason why in this case it is wrong to say I have toothache, that in order to be in the tooth the pain should be one sixteenth of an inch away from the tip of my finger? Remember that the word “where” can refer to localities in many different {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,83}} senses. (Many different grammatical games, resembling each other ''more'' or ''less'', are played with this word. Think of the different uses of the numeral “1”.) I may know where a thing is and then point to it by virtue of that knowledge. The knowledge tells me where to point to. We here conceived this knowledge as the condition for deliberately pointing to the object. Thus one can say: “I can point to the spot you mean because I see it”, “I can direct you to the place because I know where it is; first turning to the right, etc.” Now one is inclined to say “I must know where a thing is before I can point to it”. Perhaps you will feel less happy about saying: “I must know where a thing is before I can look at it”. Sometimes of course it is correct to say this. But we are tempted to think that there is one particular psychical state or event, the knowledge of the place, which must precede every deliberate act of pointing, moving towards, etc. Think of the analogous case: “One can only obey an order after having understood it”.


If I point to the painful spot on my arm, in what sense can I be said to have known where the pain was before I pointed to the place? Before I pointed I could have said “The pain is in my left arm”. Supposing my arm had been covered with a meshwork of lines numbered in such a way that I could refer to any place on its surface. Was it necessary that I should have been able to describe the painful spot by means of these co-ordinates before I could point to it? What I wish to say is that the act of pointing determines a place of pain. This {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,84}} act of pointing, by the way, is not to be confused with that of finding the painful spot by probing. In fact the two may lead to different results.
If I point to the painful spot on my arm, in what sense can I be said to have known where the pain was before I pointed to the place? Before I pointed I could have said “The pain is in my left arm”. Supposing my arm had been covered with a meshwork of lines numbered in such a way that I could refer to any place on its surface. Was it necessary that I should have been able to describe the painful spot by means of these co-ordinates before I could point to it? What I wish to say is that the act of pointing ''determines'' a place of pain. This {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,84}} act of pointing, by the way, is not to be confused with that of finding the painful spot by probing. In fact the two may lead to different results.


An innumerable variety of cases can be thought of in which we should say that someone has pains in another person's body; or, say, in a piece of furniture, or in any empty spot. Of course we mustn't forget that a pain in a particular part of our body, e.g., in an upper tooth, has a peculiar tactile and kinaesthetic neighbourhood; moving our hand upward a little distance we touch our eye; and the word “little distance” here refers to tactile distance or kinaesthetic distance, or both. (It is easy to imagine tactile and kinaesthetic distances correlated in ways different from the usual. The distance from our mouth to our eye might seem very great “to the muscles of our arm” when we move our finger from the mouth to the eye. Think how large you imagine the cavity of your tooth when the dentist is drilling and probing it.)
An innumerable variety of cases can be thought of in which we should say that someone has pains in another person's body; or, say, in a piece of furniture, or in any empty spot. Of course we mustn't forget that a pain in a particular part of our body, e.g., in an upper tooth, has a peculiar tactile and kinaesthetic neighbourhood; moving our hand upward a little distance we touch our eye; and the word “little distance” here refers to tactile distance or kinaesthetic distance, or both. (It is easy to imagine tactile and kinaesthetic distances correlated in ways different from the usual. The distance from our mouth to our eye might seem very great “to the muscles of our arm” when we move our finger from the mouth to the eye. Think how large you imagine the cavity of your tooth when the dentist is drilling and probing it.)
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When I said that if we moved our hand upward a little, we touch our eye, I was referring to tactile evidence only. That is, the criterion for my finger touching my eye was to be only that I had the particular feeling which would have made me say that I was touching my eye, even if I had no visual evidence for it, and even if, on looking into a mirror, I saw my finger not touching my eye but, say, my forehead. Just as the “little distance” I referred to was a tactile or kinaesthetic one, so also the places of which I said, “they {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,85}} lie a little distance apart” were tactile places. To say that my finger in tactile and kinaesthetic space moves from my tooth to my eye then means that I have those tactile and kinaesthetic experiences which we normally have when we say “my finger moves from my tooth to my eye”. But what we regard as evidence for this latter proposition is, as we all know, by no means only tactile and kinaesthetic. In fact if I had the tactile and kinaesthetic sensations referred to, I might still deny the proposition “my finger moves … etc. …” because of what I saw. That proposition is a proposition about physical objects. (And now don't think that the expression “physical objects” is meant to distinguish one kind of physical object from another.) The grammar of propositions which we call propositions about physical objects admits of a variety of evidences for every such proposition. It characterises the grammar of the proposition “my finger moves etc.” that I regard the propositions “I see it move”, “I feel it move”, “He sees it move”, “He tells me that it moves”, etc. as evidence for it. Now if I say “I see my hand move”, this at first sight seems to presuppose that I agree with the proposition “my hand moves”. But if I regard the proposition “I see my hand move” as one of the evidences for the proposition “my hand moves”, the truth of the latter is, of course, not presupposed in the truth of the former. One might therefore suggest the expression “It looks as though my hand were moving” instead of “I see my hand moving”. But this expression, {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,86}} although it indicates that my hand may appear to be moving without really moving, might still suggest that after all there must be a hand in order that it should appear to be moving; whereas we could easily imagine cases in which the proposition describing the visual evidence is true and at the same time other evidences make us say that I have no hand. Our ordinary way of expression obscures this. We are handicapped in ordinary language by having to describe, say, a tactile sensation by means of terms for physical objects such as the word “eye”, “finger”, etc. when what we want to say does not entail the existence of an eye or finger etc.: We have to use a roundabout description of our sensations. This of course does not mean that our ordinary language is insufficient for our purposes, but that it is slightly cumbrous and sometimes misleading. The reason for this peculiarity of our language is of course the regular coincidence of certain sense experiences. Thus when I feel my arm moving I mostly also can see it moving. And if I touch it with my hand, also that hand feels the motion, etc. (The man whose foot has been amputated will describe a particular pain as pain in his foot.) We feel in such cases a strong need for such an expression as: “a sensation travels from my tactile cheek to my tactile eye”. I said all this because, if you are aware of the tactile and kinaesthetic environment of a pain, you may find a difficulty in imagining that one could have toothache anywhere else than in one's own teeth. But if we {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,87}} imagine such a case, this simply means that we imagine a correlation between visual, tactile, kinaesthetic, etc., experiences different from the ordinary correlation. Thus we can imagine a person having the sensation of toothache plus those tactile and kinaesthetic experiences which are normally bound up with seeing his hand travelling from his tooth to his nose, to his eyes, etc., but correlated to the visual experience of his hand moving to those places in another person's face. Or again, we can imagine a person having the kinaesthetic sensation of moving his hand, and the tactile sensation, in his fingers and face, of his fingers moving over his face, whereas his kinaesthetic and visual sensations should have to be described as those of his fingers moving over his knee. If we had a sensation of toothache plus certain tactile and kinaesthetic sensations usually characteristic of touching the painful tooth and neighbouring parts of our face, and if these sensations were accompanied by seeing my hand touch, and move about on, the edge of my table, we should feel doubtful whether to call this experience an experience of toothache in the table or not. If, on the other hand, the tactile and kinaesthetic sensations described were correlated to the visual experience of seeing my hand touch a tooth and other parts of the face of another person, there is no doubt that I would call this experience “toothache in another person's tooth.”
When I said that if we moved our hand upward a little, we touch our eye, I was referring to tactile evidence only. That is, the criterion for my finger touching my eye was to be only that I had the particular feeling which would have made me say that I was touching my eye, even if I had no visual evidence for it, and even if, on looking into a mirror, I saw my finger not touching my eye but, say, my forehead. Just as the “little distance” I referred to was a tactile or kinaesthetic one, so also the places of which I said, “they {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,85}} lie a little distance apart” were tactile places. To say that my finger in tactile and kinaesthetic space moves from my tooth to my eye then means that I have those tactile and kinaesthetic experiences which we normally have when we say “my finger moves from my tooth to my eye”. But what we regard as evidence for this latter proposition is, as we all know, by no means only tactile and kinaesthetic. In fact if I had the tactile and kinaesthetic sensations referred to, I might still deny the proposition “my finger moves … etc. …” because of what I saw. That proposition is a proposition about physical objects. (And now don't think that the expression “physical objects” is meant to distinguish one kind of physical object from another.) The grammar of propositions which we call propositions about physical objects admits of a variety of evidences for every such proposition. It characterises the grammar of the proposition “my finger moves etc.” that I regard the propositions “I see it move”, “I feel it move”, “He sees it move”, “He tells me that it moves”, etc. as evidence for it. Now if I say “I see my hand move”, this at first sight seems to presuppose that I agree with the proposition “my hand moves”. But if I regard the proposition “I see my hand move” as one of the evidences for the proposition “my hand moves”, the truth of the latter is, of course, not presupposed in the truth of the former. One might therefore suggest the expression “It looks as though my hand were moving” instead of “I see my hand moving”. But this expression, {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,86}} although it indicates that my hand may appear to be moving without really moving, might still suggest that after all there must be a hand in order that it should appear to be moving; whereas we could easily imagine cases in which the proposition describing the visual evidence is true and at the same time other evidences make us say that I have no hand. Our ordinary way of expression obscures this. We are handicapped in ordinary language by having to describe, say, a tactile sensation by means of terms for physical objects such as the word “eye”, “finger”, etc. when what we want to say does not entail the existence of an eye or finger etc.: We have to use a roundabout description of our sensations. This of course does not mean that our ordinary language is insufficient for our purposes, but that it is slightly cumbrous and sometimes misleading. The reason for this peculiarity of our language is of course the regular coincidence of certain sense experiences. Thus when I feel my arm moving I mostly also can see it moving. And if I touch it with my hand, also that hand feels the motion, etc. (The man whose foot has been amputated will describe a particular pain as pain in his foot.) We feel in such cases a strong need for such an expression as: “a sensation travels from my tactile cheek to my tactile eye”. I said all this because, if you are aware of the tactile and kinaesthetic environment of a pain, you may find a difficulty in imagining that one could have toothache anywhere else than in one's own teeth. But if we {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,87}} imagine such a case, this simply means that we imagine a correlation between visual, tactile, kinaesthetic, etc., experiences different from the ordinary correlation. Thus we can imagine a person having the sensation of toothache plus those tactile and kinaesthetic experiences which are normally bound up with seeing his hand travelling from his tooth to his nose, to his eyes, etc., but correlated to the visual experience of his hand moving to those places in another person's face. Or again, we can imagine a person having the kinaesthetic sensation of moving his hand, and the tactile sensation, in his fingers and face, of his fingers moving over his face, whereas his kinaesthetic and visual sensations should have to be described as those of his fingers moving over his knee. If we had a sensation of toothache plus certain tactile and kinaesthetic sensations usually characteristic of touching the painful tooth and neighbouring parts of our face, and if these sensations were accompanied by seeing my hand touch, and move about on, the edge of my table, we should feel doubtful whether to call this experience an experience of toothache in the table or not. If, on the other hand, the tactile and kinaesthetic sensations described were correlated to the visual experience of seeing my hand touch a tooth and other parts of the face of another person, there is no doubt that I would call this experience “toothache in another person's tooth.”


I said that the man who contended that it was impossible {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,88}} to feel the other person's pain did not thereby wish to deny that one person could feel pain in another person's body. In fact, he would have said: “I may have toothache in another man's tooth, but not his toothache”.
I said that the man who contended that it was impossible {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,88}} to feel the other person's pain did not thereby wish to deny that one person could feel pain in another person's body. In fact, he would have said: “I may have toothache in another man's tooth, but not ''his'' toothache”.


Thus the proposition “A has a gold tooth” and “A has toothache” are not used analogously. They differ in their grammar where at first sight they might not seem to differ.
Thus the proposition “A has a gold tooth” and “A has toothache” are not used analogously. They differ in their grammar where at first sight they might not seem to differ.


As to the use of the word “imagine” – one might say: “Surely there is quite a definite act of imagining the other person to have pain”. Of course we don't deny this, or any other statement about facts. But let us see: If we make an image of the other person's pain, do we apply it in the same way in which we apply the image, say, of a black eye, when we imagine the other person having one? Let us again replace imagining, in the ordinary sense, by making a painted image, (This could quite well be the way certain beings did their imagining.) Then let a man imagine in this way that A has a black eye. A very important application of this picture will be comparing it with the real eye to see if the picture is correct. When we vividly imagine that someone suffers pain, there often enters in our image what one might call a shadow of a pain felt in the locality corresponding to that in which we say his pain is felt. But the sense in which an image is an image is determined by the way in which it is compared with reality. This we might call the method of projection. Now think of comparing an image of A's toothache with his {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,89}} toothache. How would you compare them? If you say, you compare them “indirectly” via his bodily behaviour, I answer that this means you don't compare them as you compare the picture of his behaviour with his behaviour.
As to the use of the word “imagine” – one might say: “Surely there is quite a definite act of imagining the other person to have pain”. Of course we don't deny this, or any other statement about facts. But let us see: If we make an image of the other person's pain, do we apply it in the same way in which we apply the image, say, of a black eye, when we imagine the other person having one? Let us again replace imagining, in the ordinary sense, by making a painted image, (This could quite well be ''the'' way certain beings did their imagining.) Then let a man imagine in this way that A has a black eye. A very important application of this picture will be comparing it with the real eye to see if the picture is correct. When we vividly imagine that someone suffers pain, there often enters in our image what one might call a shadow of a pain felt in the locality corresponding to that in which we say his pain is felt. But the sense in which an image is an image is determined by the way in which it is compared with reality. This we might call the method of projection. Now think of comparing an image of A's toothache with his {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,89}} toothache. How would you compare them? If you say, you compare them “indirectly” via his bodily behaviour, I answer that this means you ''don't'' compare them as you compare the picture of his behaviour with his behaviour.


Again, when you say, “I grant you that you can't know when A has pain, you can only conjecture it”, you don't see the difficulty which lies in the different uses of the words “conjecturing” and “knowing”. What sort of impossibility were you referring to when you said you couldn't know? Weren't you thinking of a case analogous to that when one couldn't know whether the other man had a gold tooth in his mouth because he had his mouth shut? Here what you didn't know, you could nevertheless imagine to know; it made sense to say that you saw that tooth although you didn't see it; or rather, it makes sense to say that you don't see his tooth and therefore it also makes sense to say that you do. When on the other hand, you granted me that a man can't know whether the other person has pain, you do not wish to say that as a matter of fact people didn't know, but that it made no sense to say they knew (and therefore no sense to say they don't know). If therefore in this case you use the term “conjecture” or “believe”, you don't use it as opposed to “know”. That is, you did not state that knowing was a goal which you could not reach, and that you have to be contented with conjecturing; rather, there is no goal in this game. Just as when one says “You can't count through the whole {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,90}} series of cardinal numbers”, one doesn't state a fact about human frailty but about a convention which we have made. Our statement is not comparable, though always falsely compared, with such a one as “it is impossible for a human being to swim across the Atlantic”; but it is analogous to a statement like “there is no goal in an endurance race”. And this is one of the things which the person feels dimly who is not satisfied with the explanation that though you can't know … you can conjecture ….
Again, when you say, “I grant you that you can't ''know'' when A has pain, you can only conjecture it”, you don't see the difficulty which lies in the different uses of the words “conjecturing” and “knowing”. What sort of impossibility were you referring to when you said you ''couldn't'' know? Weren't you thinking of a case analogous to that when one couldn't know whether the other man had a gold tooth in his mouth because he had his mouth shut? Here what you didn't know, you could nevertheless imagine to know; it made sense to say that you saw that tooth although you didn't see it; or rather, it makes sense to say that you don't see his tooth and therefore it also makes sense to say that you do. When on the other hand, you granted me that a man can't ''know'' whether the other person has pain, you do not wish to say that as a matter of fact people didn't know, but that it made no sense to say they knew (and therefore no sense to say they don't know). If therefore in this case you use the term “conjecture” or “believe”, you don't use it as opposed to “know”. That is, you did not state that knowing was a goal which you could not reach, and that you have to be contented with conjecturing; rather, there is no goal in this game. Just as when one says “You can't count through the whole {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,90}} series of cardinal numbers”, one doesn't state a fact about human frailty but about a convention which we have made. Our statement is not comparable, though always falsely compared, with such a one as “it is impossible for a human being to swim across the Atlantic”; but it ''is'' analogous to a statement like “there is no goal in an endurance race”. And this is one of the things which the person feels dimly who is not satisfied with the explanation that though you can't know … you can conjecture ….


If we are angry with someone for going out on a cold day with a cold in his head, we sometimes say: “I won't feel your cold”. And this can mean: “I don't suffer when you catch a cold”. This is a proposition taught by experience. For we could imagine a, so to speak, wireless connection between the two bodies which made one person feel pain in his head when the other had exposed his to the cold air. One might in this case argue that the pains are mine because they are felt in my head; but suppose I and someone else had a part of our bodies in common, say a hand. Imagine the nerves and tendons of my arm and A's connected to this hand by an operation. Now imagine the hand stung by a wasp. Both of us cry, contort our faces, give the same description of the pain, etc. Now are we to say we have the same pain or different ones? If in such a case you say: “We feel pain in the same place, in the same body, our descriptions tally, but still my pain can't be his”, I suppose as a reason you will be inclined to say: {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,91}} “because my pain is my pain and his pain is his pain”. And here you are making a grammatical statement about the use of such a phrase as “the same pain”. You say that you don't wish to apply the phrase, “he has got my pain” or “we both have the same pain”, and instead you will perhaps apply such a phrase as “his pain is exactly like mine”. (It would be no argument to say that the two couldn't have the same pain because one might anaesthetize or kill one of them while the other still felt pain.) Of course, if we exclude the phrase “I have his toothache” from our language, we thereby also exclude “I have (or feel) my toothache”. Another form of our metaphysical statement is this: “A man's sense data are private to himself”. And this way of expressing it is even more misleading because it looks still more like an experiential proposition; the philosopher who says this may well think that he is expressing a kind of scientific truth.
If we are angry with someone for going out on a cold day with a cold in his head, we sometimes say: “I won't feel your cold”. And this can mean: “I don't suffer when you catch a cold”. This is a proposition taught by experience. For we could imagine a, so to speak, wireless connection between the two bodies which made one person feel pain in his head when the other had exposed his to the cold air. One might in this case argue that the pains are mine because they are felt in my head; but suppose I and someone else had a part of our bodies in common, say a hand. Imagine the nerves and tendons of my arm and A's connected to this hand by an operation. Now imagine the hand stung by a wasp. Both of us cry, contort our faces, give the same description of the pain, etc. Now are we to say we have the same pain or different ones? If in such a case you say: “We feel pain in the same place, in the same body, our descriptions tally, but still my pain can't be his”, I suppose as a reason you will be inclined to say: {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,91}} “because my pain is my pain and his pain is his pain”. And here you are making a grammatical statement about the use of such a phrase as “the same pain”. You say that you don't wish to apply the phrase, “he has got my pain” or “we both have the same pain”, and instead you will perhaps apply such a phrase as “his pain is exactly like mine”. (It would be no argument to say that the two couldn't have the same pain because one might anaesthetize or kill one of them while the other still felt pain.) Of course, if we exclude the phrase “I have his toothache” from our language, we thereby also exclude “I have (or feel) my toothache”. Another form of our metaphysical statement is this: “A man's sense data are private to himself”. And this way of expressing it is even more misleading because it looks still more like an experiential proposition; the philosopher who says this may well think that he is expressing a kind of scientific truth.


We use the phrase “two books have the same colour”, but we could perfectly well say: “They can't have the same colour, because, after all, this book has its own colour, and the other book has its own colour too”. This also would be stating a grammatical rule, – a rule not in accordance with our ordinary usage. The reason why one should think of these two different usages at all is this: We compare the case of sense data with that of physical bodies in which case we make a distinction between: “this is the same chair that I saw an hour ago” and “this is not the same chair, but one exactly {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,92}} like the other”. Here it makes sense to say, and it is an experiential proposition: “A and B couldn't have seen the same chair, for A was in London and B in Cambridge; they saw two chairs exactly alike”. (Here it will be useful if you consider the different criteria for what we call the “identity of these objects”. How do we apply the statements: “This is the same day … ”, “This is the same word … ”; “This is the same occasion … ”, etc.?)
We use the phrase “two books have the same colour”, but we could perfectly well say: “They can't have the ''same'' colour, because, after all, this book has its own colour, and the other book has its own colour too”. This also would be stating a grammatical rule, – a rule not in accordance with our ordinary usage. The reason why one should think of these two different usages at all is this: We compare the case of sense data with that of physical bodies in which case we make a distinction between: “this is the same chair that I saw an hour ago” and “this is not the same chair, but one exactly {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,92}} like the other”. Here it makes sense to say, and it is an experiential proposition: “A and B couldn't have seen the same chair, for A was in London and B in Cambridge; they saw two chairs exactly alike”. (Here it will be useful if you consider the different criteria for what we call the “identity of these objects”. How do we apply the statements: “This is the same day … ”, “This is the same word … ”; “This is the same occasion … ”, etc.?)


What we did in these discussions was what we always do when we meet the word “can” in a metaphysical proposition. We show that this proposition hides a grammatical rule. That is to say, we destroy the outward similarity between a metaphysical proposition and an experiential one, and we try to find the form of expression which fulfills a certain craving of the metaphysician which our ordinary language does not fulfill and which, as long as it isn't fulfilled, produces the metaphysical puzzlement. Again, when in a metaphysical sense I say “I must always know when I have pain”, this simply makes the word “know” redundant; and instead of “I know that I have pain”, I can simply say “I have pain”. The matter is different of course if we give the phrase “unconscious pain” sense by fixing experiential criteria for the case in which a man has pain and doesn't know it, and if then we say (rightly or wrongly), that as a matter of fact nobody has ever had pains which he didn't know of.
What we did in these discussions was what we always do when we meet the word “can” in a metaphysical proposition. We show that this proposition hides a grammatical rule. That is to say, we destroy the outward similarity between a metaphysical proposition and an experiential one, and we try to find the form of expression which fulfills a certain craving of the metaphysician which our ordinary language does not fulfill and which, as long as it isn't fulfilled, produces the metaphysical puzzlement. Again, when in a metaphysical sense I say “I ''must'' always know when I have pain”, this simply makes the word “know” redundant; and instead of “I know that I have pain”, I can simply say “I have pain”. The matter is different of course if we give the phrase “unconscious pain” sense by fixing experiential criteria for the case in which a man has pain and doesn't know it, and if then we say (rightly or wrongly), that as a matter of fact nobody has ever had pains which he didn't know of.


When we say “I can't feel his pain”, the idea of an {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,93}} insurmountable barrier suggests itself to us. Let us think straight away of a similar case: “The colours green and blue can't be in the same place simultaneously”. Here the picture of physical impossibility which suggests itself is, perhaps, not that of a barrier; rather we feel that the two colours are in each other's way. What is the origin of this idea? – We say three people can't sit side by side on this bench; they have no room. Now the case of the colours is not analogous to this; but it is somewhat analogous to saying: “3 × 18 inches won't go into 3 feet”. This is a grammatical rule and states a logical impossibility. The proposition “three men can't sit side by side on a bench a yard long” states a physical impossibility; and this example shows clearly why the two impossibilities are confused. (Compare the proposition, “He is six inches taller than I” with “6 feet are 6 inches longer than 5 foot 6”. These propositions are of utterly different kinds, but look exactly alike.) The reason why in these cases the idea of physical impossibility suggests itself to us is that on the one hand we decide against using a particular form of expression, on the other hand we are strongly tempted to use it, as, firstly, it sounds English, or German, etc. all right, and, secondly, there are closely similar forms of expression used in other departments of our language. We have decided against using the phrase, “They are in the same place, etc.”; on the other hand this phrase strongly recommends itself to us through the analogy with {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,94}} other cases, so that, in a sense, we have to turn out this form of expression by force. And this is why we seem to ourselves to be rejecting a universally false proposition. We make a picture like that of the two colours being in each other's way, or that of a barrier which doesn't allow one person to come closer to another's experience than observing his behaviour; but on looking closer we find that we can't apply the picture which we have made.
When we say “I can't feel his pain”, the idea of an {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,93}} insurmountable barrier suggests itself to us. Let us think straight away of a similar case: “The colours green and blue can't be in the same place simultaneously”. Here the picture of physical impossibility which suggests itself is, perhaps, not that of a barrier; rather we feel that the two colours are in each other's way. What is the origin of this idea? – We say three people can't sit side by side on this bench; they have no room. Now the case of the colours is not analogous to this; but it is somewhat analogous to saying: “3 × 18 inches won't go into 3 feet”. This is a grammatical rule and states a logical impossibility. The proposition “three men can't sit side by side on a bench a yard long” states a physical impossibility; and this example shows clearly why the two impossibilities are confused. (Compare the proposition, “He is six inches taller than I” with “6 feet are 6 inches longer than 5 foot 6”. These propositions are of utterly different kinds, but look exactly alike.) The reason why in these cases the idea of physical impossibility suggests itself to us is that on the one hand we decide against using a particular form of expression, on the other hand we are strongly tempted to use it, as, firstly, it sounds English, or German, etc. all right, and, secondly, there are closely similar forms of expression used in other departments of our language. We have decided against using the phrase, “They are in the same place, etc.”; on the other hand this phrase strongly recommends itself to us through the analogy with {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,94}} other cases, so that, in a sense, we have to turn out this form of expression by force. And this is why we seem to ourselves to be rejecting a universally false proposition. We make a picture like that of the two colours being in each other's way, or that of a barrier which doesn't allow one person to come closer to another's experience than observing his behaviour; but on looking closer we find that we can't apply the picture which we have made.


Our wavering between logical and physical impossibility makes us make such statements as this: “If what I feel is always my pain only, what can the supposition mean that someone else has pain?” The thing to do in such cases is always to look how the words in question are actually used in our language. We are in all such cases thinking of a use different from that which our ordinary language makes of the words. Of a use, on the other hand, which just then for some reason strongly recommends itself to us. When something seems queer about the grammar of our words, it is because we are alternately tempted to use a word in several different ways. And it is particularly difficult to discover that an assertion which the metaphysician makes expresses discontentment with our grammar when the words of this assertion can also be used to state a fact of experience. Thus when he says “only my pain is real pain”, this sentence might mean that the other people are only pretending. And when he says “this tree doesn't exist when nobody sees it”, this might mean: “this {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,95}} tree vanishes when we turn our backs to it”. The man who says “only my pain is real”, doesn't mean to say that he has found out by the common criteria – the criteria, i.e., which give our words their common meanings – that the others who said they had pains were cheating. But what he rebels against is the use of this expression in connection with these criteria. That is, he objects to using this word in the particular way in which it is commonly used. On the other hand, he is not aware that he is objecting to a convention. He sees a way of dividing the country different from the one used on the ordinary map. He feels tempted, say, to use the name “Devonshire” not for the county with its conventional boundary, but for a region differently bounded. He could express this by saying: “Isn't it absurd to make this a county, to draw the boundaries here?” But what he says is: “The real Devonshire is this”. We could answer: “What you want is only a new notation, and by a new notation no facts of geography are changed”. It is true, however, that we may be irresistibly attracted or repelled by a notation. (We easily forget how much a notation, a form of expression, may mean to us, and that changing it isn't always as easy as it often is in mathematics or in the sciences. A change of clothes or of names may mean very little and it may mean a great deal.)
Our wavering between logical and physical impossibility makes us make such statements as this: “If what I feel is always ''my'' pain only, what can the supposition mean that someone else has pain?” The thing to do in such cases is always to look how the words in question ''are actually used in our language''. We are in all such cases thinking of a use different from that which our ordinary language makes of the words. Of a use, on the other hand, which just then for some reason strongly recommends itself to us. When something seems queer about the grammar of our words, it is because we are alternately tempted to use a word in several different ways. And it is particularly difficult to discover that an assertion which the metaphysician makes expresses discontentment with our grammar when the words of this assertion can also be used to state a fact of experience. Thus when he says “only my pain is real pain”, this sentence might mean that the other people are only pretending. And when he says “this tree doesn't exist when nobody sees it”, this might mean: “this {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,95}} tree vanishes when we turn our backs to it”. The man who says “only my pain is real”, doesn't mean to say that he has found out by the common criteria – the criteria, i.e., which give our words their common meanings – that the others who said they had pains were cheating. But what he rebels against is the use of ''this'' expression in connection with ''these'' criteria. That is, he objects to using this word in the particular way in which it is commonly used. On the other hand, he is not aware that he is objecting to a convention. He sees a way of dividing the country different from the one used on the ordinary map. He feels tempted, say, to use the name “Devonshire” not for the county with its conventional boundary, but for a region differently bounded. He could express this by saying: “Isn't it absurd to make ''this'' a county, to draw the boundaries ''here''?” But what he says is: “The ''real'' Devonshire is this”. We could answer: “What you want is only a new notation, and by a new notation no facts of geography are changed”. It is true, however, that we may be irresistibly attracted or repelled by a notation. (We easily forget how much a notation, a form of expression, may mean to us, and that changing it isn't always as easy as it often is in mathematics or in the sciences. A change of clothes or of names may mean very little and it may mean a great deal.)


I shall try to elucidate the problem discussed by realists, idealists, and solipsists by showing you a problem closely related to it. It is this: “Can we have unconscious thoughts, {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,96}} unconscious feelings, etc.?” The idea of there being unconscious thoughts has revolted many people. Others again have said that these were wrong in supposing that there could only be conscious thoughts, and that psychoanalysis had discovered unconscious ones. The objectors to unconscious thought did not see that they were not objecting to the newly discovered psychological reactions, but to the way in which they were described. The psychoanalysts on the other hand were misled by their own way of expression into thinking that they had done more than discover new psychological reactions; that they had, in a sense, discovered conscious thoughts which were unconscious. The first could have stated their objection by saying, “We don't wish to use the phrase ‘unconscious thoughts’; we wish to reserve the word ‘thought’ for what you call ‘conscious thoughts’”. They state their case wrongly when they say: “There can only be conscious thoughts and no unconscious ones”. For if they don't wish to talk of “unconscious thought” they should not use the phrase “conscious thought”, either.
I shall try to elucidate the problem discussed by realists, idealists, and solipsists by showing you a problem closely related to it. It is this: “Can we have unconscious thoughts, {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,96}} unconscious feelings, etc.?” The idea of there being unconscious thoughts has revolted many people. Others again have said that these were wrong in supposing that there could only be conscious thoughts, and that psychoanalysis had discovered unconscious ones. The objectors to unconscious thought did not see that they were not objecting to the newly discovered psychological reactions, but to the way in which they were described. The psychoanalysts on the other hand were misled by their own way of expression into thinking that they had done more than discover new psychological reactions; that they had, in a sense, discovered conscious thoughts which were unconscious. The first could have stated their objection by saying, “We don't wish to use the phrase ‘unconscious thoughts’; we wish to reserve the word ‘thought’ for what you call ‘conscious thoughts’”. They state their case wrongly when they say: “There can only be conscious thoughts and no unconscious ones”. For if they don't wish to talk of “unconscious thought” they should not use the phrase “conscious thought”, either.


But is it not right to say that in any case the person who talks both of conscious and unconscious thoughts thereby uses the word “thoughts” in two different ways? Do we use a hammer in two different ways when we hit a nail with it and, on the other hand, drive a peg into a hole? And do we use it in two different ways or in the same way when we drive this peg into this hole and, on the other hand, another peg into {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,97}} another hole? Or should we only call it different uses when in one case we drive something into something and in the other, say, we smash something? Or is this all using the hammer in one way and is it to be called a different way only when we use the hammer as a paper weight? – In which cases are we to say that a word is used in two different ways and in which that it is used in one way? To say that a word is used in two (or more) different ways does in itself not yet give us any idea about its use. It only specifies a way of looking at this usage by providing a schema for its description with two (or more) subdivisions. It is all right to say: “I do two things with this hammer: I drive a nail into this board and one into that board”. But I could also have said: “I am doing only one thing with this hammer; I am driving a nail into this board and one into that board”. There can be two kinds of discussions as to “whether a word is used in one way or in two ways”: (a) Two people may discuss whether the English word “cleave” is only used for chopping up something or also for joining things together. This is a discussion about the acts of a certain actual usage. (b) They may discuss whether the word “altus”, standing for “deep” and “high” is thereby used in two different ways. This question is analogous to the question whether the word “thought” is used in two ways or in one when we talk of conscious and unconscious thought. The man who says “surely, these are two different usages” has already decided to use a two-way {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,98}} schema, and what he said expressed this decision.
But is it not right to say that in any case the person who talks both of conscious and unconscious thoughts thereby uses the word “thoughts” in two different ways? Do we use a hammer in two different ways when we hit a nail with it and, on the other hand, drive a peg into a hole? And do we use it in two different ways or in the same way when we drive this peg into this hole and, on the other hand, another peg into {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,97}} another hole? Or should we only call it different uses when in one case we drive something into something and in the other, say, we smash something? Or is this all using the hammer in one way and is it to be called a different way only when we use the hammer as a paper weight? – In which cases are we to say that a word is used in two different ways and in which that it is used in one way? To say that a word is used in two (or more) different ways does in itself not yet give us any idea about its use. It only specifies a way of looking at this usage by providing a schema for its description with two (or more) subdivisions. It is all right to say: “I do ''two'' things with this hammer: I drive a nail into this board and one into that board”. But I could also have said: “I am doing only one thing with this hammer; I am driving a nail into this board and one into that board”. There can be two kinds of discussions as to “whether a word is used in one way or in two ways”: (a) Two people may discuss whether the English word “cleave” is only used for chopping up something or also for joining things together. This is a discussion about the acts of a certain actual usage. (b) They may discuss whether the word “altus”, standing for “deep” and “high” is ''thereby'' used in two different ways. This question is analogous to the question whether the word “thought” is used in two ways or in one when we talk of conscious and unconscious thought. The man who says “surely, these are two different usages” has already decided to use a two-way {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,98}} schema, and what he said expressed this decision.


Now when the solipsist says that only his own experiences are real, it is no use answering him: “Why do you tell us this if you don't believe that we really hear it?” Or anyhow, if we give him this answer, we mustn't believe that we have answered his difficulty. There is no common sense answer to a philosophical problem. One can only defend common sense against the attacks of philosophers by solving their puzzles, i.e., by curing them of the temptation to attack common sense; not by restating the views of common sense. A philosopher is not a man out of his senses, a man who doesn't see what everybody sees; nor on the other hand is his disagreement with common sense that of the scientist disagreeing with the coarse views of the man in the street. That is, his disagreement is not founded on a more subtle knowledge of fact. We therefore have to look round for the source of his puzzlement. And we find that there is puzzlement and mental discomfort, not only when our curiosity about certain facts is not satisfied or when we can't find a law of nature fitting in with all our experience, but also when a notation dissatisfies us, – perhaps because of various associations which it calls up. Our ordinary language, which of all possible notations is the one which pervades all our life, holds our mind rigidly in one position, as it were, and in this position sometimes it feels cramped having a desire for other positions as well. Thus we sometimes wish for a notation which stresses a difference {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,99}}
Now when the solipsist says that only his own experiences are real, it is no use answering him: “Why do you tell us this if you don't believe that we really hear it?” Or anyhow, if we give him this answer, we mustn't believe that we have answered his difficulty. There is no common sense answer to a philosophical problem. One can only defend common sense against the attacks of philosophers by solving their puzzles, i.e., by curing them of the temptation to attack common sense; not by restating the views of common sense. A philosopher is not a man out of his senses, a man who doesn't see what everybody sees; nor on the other hand is his disagreement with common sense that of the scientist disagreeing with the coarse views of the man in the street. That is, his disagreement is not founded on a more subtle knowledge of fact. We therefore have to look round for the ''source'' of his puzzlement. And we find that there is puzzlement and mental discomfort, not only when our curiosity about certain facts is not satisfied or when we can't find a law of nature fitting in with all our experience, but also when a notation dissatisfies us, – perhaps because of various associations which it calls up. Our ordinary language, which of all possible notations is the one which pervades all our life, holds our mind rigidly in one position, as it were, and in this position sometimes it feels cramped having a desire for other positions as well. Thus we sometimes wish for a notation which stresses a difference {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,99}}


more strongly, makes it more obvious, than ordinary language does, or one which in a particular case uses more closely similar forms of expression than our ordinary language. Our mental cramp is loosened when we are shown the notations which fulfill these needs. These needs can be of the greatest variety.
more strongly, makes it more obvious, than ordinary language does, or one which in a particular case uses more closely similar forms of expression than our ordinary language. Our mental cramp is loosened when we are shown the notations which fulfill these needs. These needs can be of the greatest variety.


Now the man whom we call a solipsist and who says that only his own experiences are real, on the one hand does not thereby disagree with us about any practical question of fact, he does not say that we are simulating when we complain of pains, he pities us as much as anyone else, and at the same time he wishes to restrict the use of the epithet “real” to what we should call his experiences; and perhaps he doesn't want to call our experiences “experiences” at all (again without disagreeing with us about any question of fact). For he would say that it was inconceivable that experiences other than his own were real. He ought therefore to use a notation in which such a phrase as “A has real toothache” (where A is not he) is meaningless, a notation whose rules exclude this phrase as the rules of chess exclude a pawn's making a knight's move. The solipsist's suggestion comes to using such a phrase as “there is real toothache” instead of “Smith (the solipsist) has toothache”. And why shouldn't we grant him this notation. I needn't say that in order to avoid confusion he had in his case better not use the word “real” as opposed to “simulated” at all; which just means that we shall have to provide for the {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,100}}
Now the man whom we call a solipsist and who says that only his own experiences are real, on the one hand does not thereby disagree with us about any practical question of fact, he does not say that we are simulating when we complain of pains, he pities us as much as anyone else, and at the same time he wishes to restrict the use of the epithet “real” to what we should call his experiences; and perhaps he doesn't want to call our experiences “experiences” at all (again without disagreeing with us about any question of fact). For he would say that it was ''inconceivable'' that experiences other than his own were real. He ought therefore to use a notation in which such a phrase as “A has real toothache” (where A is not he) is meaningless, a notation whose rules exclude this phrase as the rules of chess exclude a pawn's making a knight's move. The solipsist's suggestion comes to using such a phrase as “there is real toothache” instead of “Smith (the solipsist) has toothache”. And why shouldn't we grant him this notation. I needn't say that in order to avoid confusion he had in his case better not use the word “real” as opposed to “simulated” at all; which just means that we shall have to provide for the {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,100}} distinction “real”, “simulated” in some other way. The solipsist who says “only I feel real pain”, “only I really see (or hear)” is not stating an opinion; and that's why he is so sure of what he says. He is irresistibly tempted to use a certain form of expression; but we must yet find ''why'' he is.
 
distinction “real”, “simulated” in some other way. The solipsist who says “only I feel real pain”, “only I really see (or hear)” is not stating an opinion; and that's why he is so sure of what he says. He is irresistibly tempted to use a certain form of expression; but we must yet find why he is.


The phrase “only I really see” is closely connected with the idea expressed in the assertion “we never know what the other man really sees when he looks at a thing” or this, “we can never know whether he calls the same thing ‘blue’ which we call ‘blue’”. In fact we might argue: “I can never know what he sees or that he sees at all, for all I have is signs of various sorts which he gives me; therefore it is an unnecessary hypothesis altogether that he sees; what seeing is I only know from seeing myself; I have only learnt the word to mean what I do”. Of course that is just not true, for I have definitely learned a different and much more complicated use of the word “to see” than I here have professed. Let us make clear the tendency which guided me when I did so, by an example from a slightly different sphere: Consider this argument: “How can we wish that this paper were red if it isn't red? Doesn't this mean that I wish that which doesn't exist at all? Therefore my wish can only contain something similar to the paper's being red. Oughtn't we therefore to use a different word instead of ‘red’ when we talk of wishing that something were red? The imagery of the wish surely shows us something less definite, something hazier, than the reality {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,101}} of the paper being red.
The phrase “only I really see” is closely connected with the idea expressed in the assertion “we never know what the other man really sees when he looks at a thing” or this, “we can never know whether he calls the same thing ‘blue’ which we call ‘blue’”. In fact we might argue: “I can never know what he sees or that he sees at all, for all I have is signs of various sorts which he gives me; therefore it is an unnecessary hypothesis altogether that he sees; what seeing is I only know from seeing myself; I have only learnt the word to mean what I do”. Of course that is just not true, for I have definitely learned a different and much more complicated use of the word “to see” than I here have professed. Let us make clear the tendency which guided me when I did so, by an example from a slightly different sphere: Consider this argument: “How can we wish that this paper were red if it isn't red? Doesn't this mean that I wish that which doesn't exist at all? Therefore my wish can only contain something similar to the paper's being red. Oughtn't we therefore to use a different word instead of ‘red’ when we talk of wishing that something were red? The imagery of the wish surely shows us something less definite, something hazier, than the reality {{BBB TS reference|Ts-309,101}} of the paper being red.