Descriptions in Disguise

One might have thought that the description theory of names had been bashed enough; I propose to bash it some more. It hasn’t been bashed from every angle; indeed, it positively invites further bashing, given its audacity. The theory is quite disrespectful to names, insinuating that descriptions are the superior semantic citizen. We can break the question down into three parts, corresponding to three locutions that crop up in these investigations: disguise, synonymy, and abbreviation. Names are said to be disguised descriptions, synonymous with descriptions, and abbreviations of descriptions—are any of these statements true? Each locution denotes a two-place relation: are names and descriptions really related by these relations? I am not discussing the usual questions of speaker knowledge, referential rigidity, and scope distinctions; I am focusing on the correct characterization of the relation between names and descriptions—is it one of disguise, synonymy, and abbreviation?

First, disguise: is it true that a name is a description in disguise? This implies that you might be fooled by a name into thinking it is not a description when it really is one. It doesn’t look like a description, but we are told that it is one. But how is that possible given the theory? For synonymy is not open to the possibility of disguise: if “a” is synonymous with “b”, then anyone competent with both expressions will know that they are synonymous; it will be quite self-evident. If you know what “bachelor” means and you know what “unmarried man” means, then you know a priori and with certainty that they are synonyms; you can’t wonder whether they are. But you can wonder whether the name “Plato” is synonymous with the description “the teacher of Aristotle”—that is why it is a philosophical question whether it is. So, the name can’t be a description in disguise, because then it would be an open question whether the name is synonymous with the description; but it can’t be an open question if they are really synonyms. The two ideas are inconsistent. And how is the disguise supposed to work—is it like some sort of mask? How does a description disguise itself as a name—that is, how does the meaning of a description disguise itself as the meaning of a name? Does it pretend to belong to a different semantic category by curling up into a ball or by wearing a different outfit? The whole notion of disguise here is pure metaphor. How can meanings come in disguises? If they do, they can escape detection and pass for another kind of meaning; but that is incompatible with the description theory, which insists on synonymy. Synonymy is transparent, but disguise is opaque. And don’t say the disguise takes the form of a different word, because that is true of ordinary synonyms, which are semantically transparent. Theorists have opted for the word “disguise” because names are plainly not ordinary synonyms of descriptions, so they need to introduce some machinery to explain this fact. Are there any bona fide cases of semantic disguise in language—cases in which we would all agree that one kind of expression is disguising itself as another? Not that I can see; the idea is manifestly ad hoc. The word “bachelor” is not a simple noun that acts as a disguise for the adjective-noun combination “unmarried male”; there is nothing misleading or deceptive about it. We don’t have to rip off the disguise to reveal the synonymy.

Second, synonymy itself: are names and descriptions synonymous? We know about the counterexamples that have been produced against this claim (Kripke et al), but there is another way to question it. The relation of synonymy is symmetrical, so descriptions must be synonymous with names, actual or possible. So, why don’t we have name theories of descriptions? The description means the same as the name (suppose we started with a direct reference theory of names). Then we would have a non-descriptive purely referential theory of the meaning of definite descriptions! Dialectically, we have begged the question against the direct reference theory. But there is this further point: why aren’t all descriptions synonymous with names not just some? For every name there is a corresponding description (allegedly), but why not conversely? There could be if speakers wanted it that way—just introduce one! The name is really always loitering in latent form, waiting to be recognized; the semantic category of names is implicit in the semantic category of descriptions, in virtue of the alleged synonymy. But that seems implausible: names look like a genuine enrichment of the semantic resources of a language. And why bother with the category of descriptions if you already have the category of names that are synonymous with them? Surely, we are dealing with two distinct categories of expression. Descriptions are not disguised names! Why are some descriptions synonymous with (existing) names while some are not? That is puzzling under the description theory.

Now we reach the nub of the description theory of names: names are said to abbreviate descriptions. The disguise comes from this because an abbreviation doesn’t look or sound like what it abbreviates; and the reason names don’t exist for every description is that speakers don’t need convenient abbreviations for all descriptions. Names exist in the presence of descriptions because they are a handy condensation of their lengthier brethren. It is a pragmatic matter. Names are not semantically useful—there is nothing they can do semantically that descriptions can’t do better–but they are pragmatically useful. That is the reason for the apparent difference, and the excuse for the metaphor of disguise. But this is a terrible idea—absolutely pathetic, in fact. There are two points, both perfectly obvious, yet devastating. First, names are not syntactically or orthographically or aurally abbreviations of descriptions—they look and sound nothing like descriptions. The name “Mike” is an abbreviation of “Michael”, but it is not an abbreviation of “the guy who owns the local pawn shop”; it is a distinct expression entirely. Second, names are not always shorter than descriptions, and certainly not necessarily shorter: people sometimes have long names! Even when they are relatively short people sometimes prefer to use a description, because it is more informative. Names are not short forms of descriptions in any meaningful sense. This is just a lazy label cooked up to paper over a glaring weakness in the description theory, namely that names are nothing like descriptions syntactically. We concede too much to the description theory if we let this patch-up job pass.

There is a more general point to be made: if a description theory of demonstratives is incorrect and seldom advocated, why should a description theory of names be thought compulsory? Names are naturally akin to demonstratives, so why not group them with demonstratives instead of descriptions? Neither type of expression requires extensive knowledge of the referent; names are commonly introduced via a demonstrative (“this child”); and context plays an important role in both cases—so why not align these two categories semantically? This is a semantic natural kind, unlike the natural kind of definite descriptions, which belongs with indefinite descriptions and other descriptive devices. It would surely be highly implausible to suggest that a demonstrative like “that man” is synonymous with some description referring to the person’s famous deeds or some such. Does “he” as uttered on an occasion mean “the guy drinking a martini”? So, it is a reasonable challenge to the description theorist to explain why he insists on that theory for names but not for demonstratives. There are clearly more referential devices in natural languages than those provided by the definite description, which anyway seems destined for a Russellian paraphrase and doesn’t refer at all. Enough bashing.[1]

[1] Why is that in philosophy all the best theories are false? The description theory is a nice theory, but it is riddled with problems. Likewise, materialism is an excellent theory, if it weren’t for the falsity. Ditto for emotivism, nominalism, panpsychism, phenomenalism, and all the rest.