This is another post in my series on semantic granularity. The others so far, in chronological order, are:
If meanings properly get carved up at
different granularities, as I maintain, what are the implications for
the 'the principle of compositionality'? I believe that granularity
considerations can shed light on the status and application of this
principle, and clear up much of the confusion surrounding it.
This confusion appears to be
considerable. Witness Daniel Cohnitz ('Is Compositionality an A
Priori Principle?'):
A superficial look
at the literature on the principle of compositionality [...] could
suggest that the discussion is as confused as a discussion can be.
I will now quote some classic and some
typical formulations of the principle, and then indicate what we can
say about it in light of granularity.
From the Tractatus:
I conceive the proposition—like Frege and Russell—as a function
of the expressions contained in it. (3.318)
To understand a proposition means to know what is the case, if it is
true.
(One can therefore understand it without knowing whether it is true
or not.)
One understands it if one understands its constituent parts. (4.024)
It is essential to propositions, that they can communicate a new
sense to us. (4.027)
Frege,
in a letter to P.F. Jourdain, probably written in 1914:
The
possibility of our understanding [my emphasis] propositions which we
have never heard before rests evidently on this, that we construct
the sense of a proposition out of the parts that correspond to the
words.
Theo
Janssen, 'Compositionality':
The
principle of compositionality reads, in its best known formulation:
The
meaning of a compound expression is a function of the meanings of its
parts.
But
this omits something. The way the parts are put together, not just
their meaning, goes into determining the meaning of the whole. ('John
loves Mary' means something different from 'Mary loves John'.)
This
is the point made by 3.141 of the Tractatus:
The proposition is not a mixture of words (just as the musical theme is not a mixture of tones).
The proposition is articulate.
The
following instances do not omit this:
B.H.
Partee, handout for Ling 310 The Structure of Meaning, Lecture 1,
February 20, 2006 p.1:
The
Principle of Compositionality: The meaning of an expression is a
function of the meanings of its parts and of the way they are
syntactically combined.
'Compositionality',
The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy:
[T]he
meaning of a complex expression is fully determined by its structure
and the meanings of its constituents.
We
have now seen the principle of compositionality stated in various
ways.
One
idea I want to suggest is that, at a maximally fine granularity, the
principle of compositionality can be thought of as guaranteed to
hold – a blanket, a
priori principle.
However, once we relax the granularity, compositionality can begin to fail in many cases.
However, once we relax the granularity, compositionality can begin to fail in many cases.
This
would give us an avenue by which to approach the confusion about
whether the principle of compositionality is just a conceptual truth
about how all languages – everything we would call a language –
must work, or an ideal which is sometimes met and sometimes not, or
just something which occurs sometimes (i.e. for some languages, or
parts of languages) and not others, without necessarily being an
ideal: from a fine-grained point of view, it can be construed as
something which applies without exception, but from courser-grained
points of view, we can make distinctions between cases where it holds
and cases where it doesn't. (The stuff about being an ideal versus
not being an ideal can then be considered using this as a basis.)
The
proposal I just indicated – that at a maximally fine granularity,
compositionality can be thought of as holding a priori
and across the board – while it has a certain theoretical appeal,
is problematic: it might seem straightforwardly false (in light of
the existence of idioms, for example), but of course replies can be
made to that (for example, that semantically, idiomatic phrases have
less, or just different, parts or constituents than they would appear
to have considered literalistically). I do not want to be dogmatic
about this, and I suspect there is room for “having it both ways”
by means of careful disambiguation.
Some
of the points I want to make here can be made without any such strong
principle (that is, without the proposal above – call it 'the
blanket proposal'). I will therefore do that first, and then come
back and reconsider the blanket proposal.
Compositionality Can Depend on Granularity
The
proposal summed up in this heading is weaker than the blanket
proposal (the proposal that granularity holds a priori across
the board at maximally fine granularity but can fail in cases as the
granularity is coarsened): all that is claimed is that some
complex expressions are such that compositionality may be said to
hold of them, given a certain granularity of individuation of their
components' meanings, but also such that compositionality then fails
to hold at a coarser granularity.
Consider
this bit of dialogue from season 2 of Flight of the Conchords:
Murray: Now, we've known each other for
quite some time in the professional realm. I'd like to push things
forward in the friendship realm.
Jemaine: What's the friendship realm?
Murray: Well, you've heard of a realm?
Bret: Mm.
Murray: Yep?
Jemaine: Yes.
Murray: Well this is like a friendship
one.
What
makes this sequence is the way Murray's compositional "explanation"
of 'the friendship realm' fails drastically. Is this, then, a
“counterexample to compositionality”? Not really; or at least, to
say that would not be to tell the whole story.
I
think we can take two views of this case, and many others like it: a
compositional/fine-grained view and a
non-compositional/course-grained view.
On
the first conception, we think: Murray means something here, he has
put together a meaningful proposition. 'Friendship' and 'realm' here
are clearly functioning in a way that is continuous with and related
to a great many other occurrences of these words. Therefore, whatever
this proposition means, that
'friendship' and 'realm' contribute in the way they do, or that
they
appear here in the way they do, in a proposition with this meaning,
is part
of
– or an aspect of – the meaning, or the use, of these words
(given fineness of grain).
Taking
this viewpoint does not commit us to saying that these fine-grained
component meanings were fully present before the phrase 'friendship
realm' was ever used: depending on the details of the case, we could
say that some people attached those meanings to the component terms
already and some attached others (but that the difference never
showed up, or slightly, but not in such a way as to prevent mutual
understanding), or that no one used the words with exactly those
meanings before the phrase was used, but that they were spontaneously
arrived at when the phrase was coined (and understood, if we change
the case and suppose it was understood by Jemaine and Brett, as would
be more likely in real life) – that is, the meanings of
'friendship' and 'realm' were spontaneously and slightly extended.
On
the second conception, by contrast, we think: 'friendship' and
'realm' are familiar words, and they were both presumably around for
a long time before 'friendship realm' was ever used. Putting these
two meaningful words together, however, doesn't all by itself yield
one and only one possible meaning. There is room for going different
ways here. ('The friendship realm', for instance, might be used
differently from how Murray uses it, to mean some mythical realm in
which everyone is friends.) Of course, when 'friendship realm' does
end up meaning some particular thing, this will not be unrelated to
'friendship' and 'realm' – they guide the meaning, without
determining it. The gap between what they provide and the meaning of
'friendship realm' must be filled by semantic developments pertaining
to 'friendship realm'. But we needn't say that these developments
affect the meanings of 'friendship' and 'realm' taken by themselves –
we can maintain that they
haven't taken on new meanings.
(It
may be that compositionality doesn't necessarily fail according to
this second conception: perhaps the gap between what the pre-existing
meanings of 'friendship' and 'realm' and a meaning for 'friendship
realm' can be thought of as being filled by a structure
or mode
of composition,
if we construe this as going beyond surface syntax.)
Now,
what does this get us, i.e. what does it get us to see that there is
all this room for manoeuvring here?
One
thing it gets us is a way of explaining a large class of putative
counterexamples to the principle of compositionality, without denying
any natural point of view. In fact, we have before us two ways
of accounting for the idea that this is a counterexample to
compositionality. Rather than two equally good ways of accounting for
exactly the same thing, I think they cover different sorts of cases,
different instances of the idea that this is a counterexample to
compositionality; compositionality can be said to fail here in two
senses:
(1)
While compositionality may be said to hold at a very fine
granularity, it can be said not to hold at a coarser one. So, one
thing that might be going on when we think we have a counterexample
to compositionality is that we are operating at a granularity at
which it is a counterexample – and if someone disagrees, we might
be talking at crossed granularities.
(2)
A dynamic, temporal sense. We make no bones about the fact that now
we have some new complex expression, we can say that the meanings of
its parts, plus its structure, determines the meaning of the whole.
(Thus we are operating at the finer granularity.) But we insist that
when it was introduced, its meaning wasn't so determined: rather, it
induced spontaneous semantic development. So, we can call a use of
language non-compositional in this sense if it involved such
development – and we may relativize this to a thinker or speaker, a
listener, etc. Something compositional for me might be
non-compositional for you at first, but my saying it induces
spontaneous semantic development on your side so that it becomes
compositional after the fact. We might use 'dynamic compositionality'
for this idea; when spontaneous semantic innovations occur involving
complex expressions, we can say that those expression uses were
dynamically non-compositional.
Neither sense conflicts with the claim that, at fine-grain and timelessly, 'friendship realm' and similar cases are perfectly compositional.
Neither sense conflicts with the claim that, at fine-grain and timelessly, 'friendship realm' and similar cases are perfectly compositional.
These
considerations may also shed some light on the issue of whether, or
in what circumstances, compositionality is to be regarded as an ideal
to be striven towards, if not attained. In some cases, we may have as
an ideal that no spontaneous semantic innovation – no guesswork, we
might say, from an interpreter's perspective – be required for a
certain language-game (use of language), for example in parts of
science, certain personal encounters, or in parts of legislature.
That is, dynamic compositionality may be desired. But it is just as
clear that sometimes we want dynamic non-compositionality.
Or
we might want a language, or a part of language, to be so simple that
there is no room for granularity shifting: each expression has a
couple of clear rules attached to it, and if you change any of them,
it's just not natural to say that the meanings stayed the same. We
might be able to ensure this by laying it down that compositionality
must not fail. (If we're aware of granularity considerations, we
might say 'must not fail at any reasonable granularity', but we need
not be aware of them to pull off the trick.)
So,
the above considerations get us a few things. What remains?
We
have seen that many cases where compositionality seems to fail –
such as Murray's use of 'friendship realm' – may be explained away
by saying: if you individuate the components' meanings at a finer
granularity, this is no longer a counterexample. But the question
remains: can that be done in every case? That is, does the
blanket proposal hold?
By
getting clearer about the blanket proposal, we will get clearer about
the nature or meaning of the principle of compositionality. In this
connection, we should consider idioms, metaphors and similes, sarcasm
and the like, and semantic “outgrowths” like 'Wednesday is fat'
and 'The letter a is yellow'.
Such
linguistic phenomena also suggest that there may be more to say about
the notion of compositionality as an ideal.
The Blanket Proposal
A
proponent of the blanket proposal might say that, when
compositionality fails, we have decided to bundle together as having
one meaning expressions, or possible occurrences of expressions,
which on a more fine-grained conception would be regarded as having
(perhaps only slightly) different meanings. But is this really
plausible in every case?
Here are some difficult types of cases:
Idioms:
Consider phrases like 'spitting image', 'dead ringer', 'nest egg',
'piece of cake', 'funny farm', 'loose cannon', 'no dice', 'from
scratch', 'kick the bucket'.
Propositions
like 'He is a loose cannon'
'Pull
strings' a bit more flexible. Frozen metaphor.
Sarcasm
and the like: A sarcastic utterance of 'That's just great' may seem
to be a kind of counterexample to compositionality: what is meant is
that something is terrible, but this depends not just on the meanings
of the components and how they are put together, but also on the
context: it might be meant non-sarcastically.
But
we can invoke an intensional (internal semantic) analogue of Kripke's
distinction between speaker's reference and semantic reference here,
and insist that what this expression means, even in the
sarcastic use, is that the thing in question is very good, even
though what the speaker means by it is something else.
From
the point of view of expression-meaning, then, sarcasm and the like
do not threaten compositionality in the least. But there is nothing
stopping us talking about compositionality in connection with
speaker-meaning, and saying that it fails in this case ('That's just
great').
Or,
we may say that what the speaker means by the whole is determined by
what the speaker means by the parts, together with their mode of
composition, by maintaining that by 'great' the speaker means
'terrible'.
But
other cases seem different. Suppose someone takes something to be
very obvious, but, by way of parody of some other group who may doubt
it, might sarcastically say, 'Of course, empirical studies may prove
me wrong' (let's suppose they're quite nerdy). Here, the meaning is
something like 'Come on, we know this!', but the sarcasm cannot be
located, so to speak, in any particular phrase. The whole
construction is bound up with the sarcasm – what is
literally meant cannot aptly be stated using the same syntactic form,
only negated (e.g. 'Of course, it's not the case that empirical
studies may prove me wrong', or some other placement of negation).
For now I remain agnostic.
A Final Observation about Wholes and Parts and Granularity
Observation:
Two propositions - or more generally, complex expressions - can be
identical in meaning at one granularity, while none of their parts
have the same meaning at any reasonable granularity. Or less
extremely, while few of their parts, or none of their "key
words", have the same meaning at any reasonable granularity. Or
again, while their overall structure and arrangement of parts is
quite different.
For
example: 'Get out!' and 'Leave at once!'.