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<h2> CHAPTER XII. TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD </h2>
<p>Our knowledge of truths, unlike our knowledge of things, has an opposite,
namely <i>error</i>. So far as things are concerned, we may know them or
not know them, but there is no positive state of mind which can be
described as erroneous knowledge of things, so long, at any rate, as we
confine ourselves to knowledge by acquaintance. Whatever we are acquainted
with must be something; we may draw wrong inferences from our
acquaintance, but the acquaintance itself cannot be deceptive. Thus there
is no dualism as regards acquaintance. But as regards knowledge of truths,
there is a dualism. We may believe what is false as well as what is true.
We know that on very many subjects different people hold different and
incompatible opinions: hence some beliefs must be erroneous. Since
erroneous beliefs are often held just as strongly as true beliefs, it
becomes a difficult question how they are to be distinguished from true
beliefs. How are we to know, in a given case, that our belief is not
erroneous? This is a question of the very greatest difficulty, to which no
completely satisfactory answer is possible. There is, however, a
preliminary question which is rather less difficult, and that is: What do
we <i>mean</i> by truth and falsehood? It is this preliminary question
which is to be considered in this chapter. In this chapter we are not
asking how we can know whether a belief is true or false: we are asking
what is meant by the question whether a belief is true or false. It is to
be hoped that a clear answer to this question may help us to obtain an
answer to the question what beliefs are true, but for the present we ask
only 'What is truth?' and 'What is falsehood?' not 'What beliefs are
true?' and 'What beliefs are false?' It is very important to keep these
different questions entirely separate, since any confusion between them is
sure to produce an answer which is not really applicable to either.</p>
<p>There are three points to observe in the attempt to discover the nature of
truth, three requisites which any theory must fulfil.</p>
<p>(1) Our theory of truth must be such as to admit of its opposite,
falsehood. A good many philosophers have failed adequately to satisfy this
condition: they have constructed theories according to which all our
thinking ought to have been true, and have then had the greatest
difficulty in finding a place for falsehood. In this respect our theory of
belief must differ from our theory of acquaintance, since in the case of
acquaintance it was not necessary to take account of any opposite.</p>
<p>(2) It seems fairly evident that if there were no beliefs there could be
no falsehood, and no truth either, in the sense in which truth is
correlative to falsehood. If we imagine a world of mere matter, there
would be no room for falsehood in such a world, and although it would
contain what may be called 'facts', it would not contain any truths, in
the sense in which truths are things of the same kind as falsehoods. In
fact, truth and falsehood are properties of beliefs and statements: hence
a world of mere matter, since it would contain no beliefs or statements,
would also contain no truth or falsehood.</p>
<p>(3) But, as against what we have just said, it is to be observed that the
truth or falsehood of a belief always depends upon something which lies
outside the belief itself. If I believe that Charles I died on the
scaffold, I believe truly, not because of any intrinsic quality of my
belief, which could be discovered by merely examining the belief, but
because of an historical event which happened two and a half centuries
ago. If I believe that Charles I died in his bed, I believe falsely: no
degree of vividness in my belief, or of care in arriving at it, prevents
it from being false, again because of what happened long ago, and not
because of any intrinsic property of my belief. Hence, although truth and
falsehood are properties of beliefs, they are properties dependent upon
the relations of the beliefs to other things, not upon any internal
quality of the beliefs.</p>
<p>The third of the above requisites leads us to adopt the view—which
has on the whole been commonest among philosophers—that truth
consists in some form of correspondence between belief and fact. It is,
however, by no means an easy matter to discover a form of correspondence
to which there are no irrefutable objections. By this partly—and
partly by the feeling that, if truth consists in a correspondence of
thought with something outside thought, thought can never know when truth
has been attained—many philosophers have been led to try to find
some definition of truth which shall not consist in relation to something
wholly outside belief. The most important attempt at a definition of this
sort is the theory that truth consists in <i>coherence</i>. It is said
that the mark of falsehood is failure to cohere in the body of our
beliefs, and that it is the essence of a truth to form part of the
completely rounded system which is The Truth.</p>
<p>There is, however, a great difficulty in this view, or rather two great
difficulties. The first is that there is no reason to suppose that only <i>one</i>
coherent body of beliefs is possible. It may be that, with sufficient
imagination, a novelist might invent a past for the world that would
perfectly fit on to what we know, and yet be quite different from the real
past. In more scientific matters, it is certain that there are often two
or more hypotheses which account for all the known facts on some subject,
and although, in such cases, men of science endeavour to find facts which
will rule out all the hypotheses except one, there is no reason why they
should always succeed.</p>
<p>In philosophy, again, it seems not uncommon for two rival hypotheses to be
both able to account for all the facts. Thus, for example, it is possible
that life is one long dream, and that the outer world has only that degree
of reality that the objects of dreams have; but although such a view does
not seem inconsistent with known facts, there is no reason to prefer it to
the common-sense view, according to which other people and things do
really exist. Thus coherence as the definition of truth fails because
there is no proof that there can be only one coherent system.</p>
<p>The other objection to this definition of truth is that it assumes the
meaning of 'coherence' known, whereas, in fact, 'coherence' presupposes
the truth of the laws of logic. Two propositions are coherent when both
may be true, and are incoherent when one at least must be false. Now in
order to know whether two propositions can both be true, we must know such
truths as the law of contradiction. For example, the two propositions,
'this tree is a beech' and 'this tree is not a beech', are not coherent,
because of the law of contradiction. But if the law of contradiction
itself were subjected to the test of coherence, we should find that, if we
choose to suppose it false, nothing will any longer be incoherent with
anything else. Thus the laws of logic supply the skeleton or framework
within which the test of coherence applies, and they themselves cannot be
established by this test.</p>
<p>For the above two reasons, coherence cannot be accepted as giving the <i>meaning</i>
of truth, though it is often a most important <i>test</i> of truth after a
certain amount of truth has become known.</p>
<p>Hence we are driven back to <i>correspondence with fact</i> as
constituting the nature of truth. It remains to define precisely what we
mean by 'fact', and what is the nature of the correspondence which must
subsist between belief and fact, in order that belief may be true.</p>
<p>In accordance with our three requisites, we have to seek a theory of truth
which (1) allows truth to have an opposite, namely falsehood, (2) makes
truth a property of beliefs, but (3) makes it a property wholly dependent
upon the relation of the beliefs to outside things.</p>
<p>The necessity of allowing for falsehood makes it impossible to regard
belief as a relation of the mind to a single object, which could be said
to be what is believed. If belief were so regarded, we should find that,
like acquaintance, it would not admit of the opposition of truth and
falsehood, but would have to be always true. This may be made clear by
examples. Othello believes falsely that Desdemona loves Cassio. We cannot
say that this belief consists in a relation to a single object,
'Desdemona's love for Cassio', for if there were such an object, the
belief would be true. There is in fact no such object, and therefore
Othello cannot have any relation to such an object. Hence his belief
cannot possibly consist in a relation to this object.</p>
<p>It might be said that his belief is a relation to a different object,
namely 'that Desdemona loves Cassio'; but it is almost as difficult to
suppose that there is such an object as this, when Desdemona does not love
Cassio, as it was to suppose that there is 'Desdemona's love for Cassio'.
Hence it will be better to seek for a theory of belief which does not make
it consist in a relation of the mind to a single object.</p>
<p>It is common to think of relations as though they always held between two
terms, but in fact this is not always the case. Some relations demand
three terms, some four, and so on. Take, for instance, the relation
'between'. So long as only two terms come in, the relation 'between' is
impossible: three terms are the smallest number that render it possible.
York is between London and Edinburgh; but if London and Edinburgh were the
only places in the world, there could be nothing which was between one
place and another. Similarly <i>jealousy</i> requires three people: there
can be no such relation that does not involve three at least. Such a
proposition as 'A wishes B to promote C's marriage with D' involves a
relation of four terms; that is to say, A and B and C and D all come in,
and the relation involved cannot be expressed otherwise than in a form
involving all four. Instances might be multiplied indefinitely, but enough
has been said to show that there are relations which require more than two
terms before they can occur.</p>
<p>The relation involved in <i>judging</i> or <i>believing</i> must, if
falsehood is to be duly allowed for, be taken to be a relation between
several terms, not between two. When Othello believes that Desdemona loves
Cassio, he must not have before his mind a single object, 'Desdemona's
love for Cassio', or 'that Desdemona loves Cassio ', for that would
require that there should be objective falsehoods, which subsist
independently of any minds; and this, though not logically refutable, is a
theory to be avoided if possible. Thus it is easier to account for
falsehood if we take judgement to be a relation in which the mind and the
various objects concerned all occur severally; that is to say, Desdemona
and loving and Cassio must all be terms in the relation which subsists
when Othello believes that Desdemona loves Cassio. This relation,
therefore, is a relation of four terms, since Othello also is one of the
terms of the relation. When we say that it is a relation of four terms, we
do not mean that Othello has a certain relation to Desdemona, and has the
same relation to loving and also to Cassio. This may be true of some other
relation than believing; but believing, plainly, is not a relation which
Othello has to <i>each</i> of the three terms concerned, but to <i>all</i>
of them together: there is only one example of the relation of believing
involved, but this one example knits together four terms. Thus the actual
occurrence, at the moment when Othello is entertaining his belief, is that
the relation called 'believing' is knitting together into one complex
whole the four terms Othello, Desdemona, loving, and Cassio. What is
called belief or judgement is nothing but this relation of believing or
judging, which relates a mind to several things other than itself. An <i>act</i>
of belief or of judgement is the occurrence between certain terms at some
particular time, of the relation of believing or judging.</p>
<p>We are now in a position to understand what it is that distinguishes a
true judgement from a false one. For this purpose we will adopt certain
definitions. In every act of judgement there is a mind which judges, and
there are terms concerning which it judges. We will call the mind the <i>subject</i>
in the judgement, and the remaining terms the <i>objects</i>. Thus, when
Othello judges that Desdemona loves Cassio, Othello is the subject, while
the objects are Desdemona and loving and Cassio. The subject and the
objects together are called the <i>constituents</i> of the judgement. It
will be observed that the relation of judging has what is called a 'sense'
or 'direction'. We may say, metaphorically, that it puts its objects in a
certain <i>order</i>, which we may indicate by means of the order of the
words in the sentence. (In an inflected language, the same thing will be
indicated by inflections, e.g. by the difference between nominative and
accusative.) Othello's judgement that Cassio loves Desdemona differs from
his judgement that Desdemona loves Cassio, in spite of the fact that it
consists of the same constituents, because the relation of judging places
the constituents in a different order in the two cases. Similarly, if
Cassio judges that Desdemona loves Othello, the constituents of the
judgement are still the same, but their order is different. This property
of having a 'sense' or 'direction' is one which the relation of judging
shares with all other relations. The 'sense' of relations is the ultimate
source of order and series and a host of mathematical concepts; but we
need not concern ourselves further with this aspect.</p>
<p>We spoke of the relation called 'judging' or 'believing' as knitting
together into one complex whole the subject and the objects. In this
respect, judging is exactly like every other relation. Whenever a relation
holds between two or more terms, it unites the terms into a complex whole.
If Othello loves Desdemona, there is such a complex whole as 'Othello's
love for Desdemona'. The terms united by the relation may be themselves
complex, or may be simple, but the whole which results from their being
united must be complex. Wherever there is a relation which relates certain
terms, there is a complex object formed of the union of those terms; and
conversely, wherever there is a complex object, there is a relation which
relates its constituents. When an act of believing occurs, there is a
complex, in which 'believing' is the uniting relation, and subject and
objects are arranged in a certain order by the 'sense' of the relation of
believing. Among the objects, as we saw in considering 'Othello believes
that Desdemona loves Cassio', one must be a relation—in this
instance, the relation 'loving'. But this relation, as it occurs in the
act of believing, is not the relation which creates the unity of the
complex whole consisting of the subject and the objects. The relation
'loving', as it occurs in the act of believing, is one of the objects—it
is a brick in the structure, not the cement. The cement is the relation
'believing'. When the belief is <i>true</i>, there is another complex
unity, in which the relation which was one of the objects of the belief
relates the other objects. Thus, e.g., if Othello believes <i>truly</i>
that Desdemona loves Cassio, then there is a complex unity, 'Desdemona's
love for Cassio', which is composed exclusively of the <i>objects</i> of
the belief, in the same order as they had in the belief, with the relation
which was one of the objects occurring now as the cement that binds
together the other objects of the belief. On the other hand, when a belief
is <i>false</i>, there is no such complex unity composed only of the
objects of the belief. If Othello believes <i>falsely</i> that Desdemona
loves Cassio, then there is no such complex unity as 'Desdemona's love for
Cassio'.</p>
<p>Thus a belief is <i>true</i> when it <i>corresponds</i> to a certain
associated complex, and <i>false</i> when it does not. Assuming, for the
sake of definiteness, that the objects of the belief are two terms and a
relation, the terms being put in a certain order by the 'sense' of the
believing, then if the two terms in that order are united by the relation
into a complex, the belief is true; if not, it is false. This constitutes
the definition of truth and falsehood that we were in search of. Judging
or believing is a certain complex unity of which a mind is a constituent;
if the remaining constituents, taken in the order which they have in the
belief, form a complex unity, then the belief is true; if not, it is
false.</p>
<p>Thus although truth and falsehood are properties of beliefs, yet they are
in a sense extrinsic properties, for the condition of the truth of a
belief is something not involving beliefs, or (in general) any mind at
all, but only the <i>objects</i> of the belief. A mind, which believes,
believes truly when there is a <i>corresponding</i> complex not involving
the mind, but only its objects. This correspondence ensures truth, and its
absence entails falsehood. Hence we account simultaneously for the two
facts that beliefs (a) depend on minds for their <i>existence</i>, (b) do
not depend on minds for their <i>truth</i>.</p>
<p>We may restate our theory as follows: If we take such a belief as 'Othello
believes that Desdemona loves Cassio', we will call Desdemona and Cassio
the <i>object-terms</i>, and loving the <i>object-relation</i>. If there
is a complex unity 'Desdemona's love for Cassio', consisting of the
object-terms related by the object-relation in the same order as they have
in the belief, then this complex unity is called the <i>fact corresponding
to the belief</i>. Thus a belief is true when there is a corresponding
fact, and is false when there is no corresponding fact.</p>
<p>It will be seen that minds do not <i>create</i> truth or falsehood. They
create beliefs, but when once the beliefs are created, the mind cannot
make them true or false, except in the special case where they concern
future things which are within the power of the person believing, such as
catching trains. What makes a belief true is a <i>fact</i>, and this fact
does not (except in exceptional cases) in any way involve the mind of the
person who has the belief.</p>
<p>Having now decided what we <i>mean</i> by truth and falsehood, we have
next to consider what ways there are of knowing whether this or that
belief is true or false. This consideration will occupy the next chapter.</p>
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