J.L. Austin proposed a method of doing philosophy in a new way. He devised procedures for researching how we talk about troublesome concepts to see whether we could unsnarl the language underlying philosophical problems.
For some students, including me, his ideas were fascinating.
His essay “A Plea for Excuses” is, in my mind, the defining example of Ordinary Language Philosophy. Instead of tackling the whole field of ethics, the business of distinguishing good and bad, right and wrong, Austin looked at a small slice of it. What are we doing when we make an excuse? How is doing something that might be wrong but excusable under certain circumstances different from making a mistake?
When I read the paper decades ago, I thought Austin’s methods offered hope for solving problems that have persisted for as long as thinkers have recording thoughts.
Unfortunately, the paper that everyone agrees is an outstanding example of Ordinary Language Philosophy could also be viewed as the school’s high-water mark. Austin died at 48 in 1960. His students carried on his work.
One of the most interesting parts of M.W. Rowe’s new biography recounts Austin’s work on the problem of causation. Everyone talks of cause and effect.
Austin researched the question of what happens when we talk of causes and their consequences or results, as opposed to their effects. Does the different language change the picture?
He and his colleagues looked at sentences such as “The effects of the explosion could be felt for miles.” They substituted “consequences” and “results” for “effects.” They noted what happened when the sentence is modified, considering “unfortunate” and “voluntary” effects, consequences and results.
The research produced insights into our use of language but didn’t do much for our understanding of the philosophical problem.
Rowe’s biography is 617 pages. I think the outline above is a fair summary of Austin’s work. I’d like to know what philosophers think about why these methods failed.
I found real pleasure in two things.
First, some of the details of Austin’s life were wonderful. He was a reserved man who used “Austin” when everyone else was on a first-name basis. I would have loved to have seen him when he was visiting Harvard and was invited to a softball game. Not knowing the rules, but being athletic, he stepped up to the plate and lined a shot over second base.
His host expect him to stop at first, but he made it to second, standing up, after tagging first — with his hand.
Second, I loved the minor characters, especially some of the philosopher professors, now almost forgotten, who wandered into his life. I’ll post an example tomorrow.
• Source: M.W. Rowe, J.L. Austin: Philosopher & D-Day Intelligence Officer; Oxford University Press, 2023. The anecdote of the softball game is on page 529. Several notes, beginning Nov. 6, 2023, mention the biography.
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