Wittgenstein cum suis.
Some readers may have wondered why they have not encountered a single word about the most ubiquitous exponent of the philosophy of language, Wittgenstein. The reason is very simple: he and his colleagues cannot contribute much to the basic topic of this book, the foundations of social decision-making, mainly because their writings are not directly translatable into, or applicable to the functional view of information in general and of language in particular. Let me explain.
Take for instance Wittgenstein's conclusion of his ‘Tractatus’: ‘Worüber man nicht reden kann, darüber muss man schweigen.’ If that ‘worüber’ is totally irrelevant to social decision-making, then we can ignore it in this book. In decision-making the rule for keeping mum would be: ‘Worüber man nicht reden muss, darüber darf man schweigen!’ If, on the other hand, that ‘worüber’ is a decisive element of whatever decision we have to take as a society, then the saying should be: ‘Worüber man nicht schweigen kann (oder darf), darüber muss man reden.’ Question: can we talk in any meaningful way about all subjects relevant to social decision-making? The answer depends on the criterion we use to define ‘meaningful’.
Let me in a nutshell say how I read his Tractatus. Facts are facts, they just are. Whatever we add beyond pointing at them is of our own making. If we have agreed on a language with a vocabulary pointing at those facts, and a syntax and semantics defining expressions and giving them a meaning, then we can talk about facts, and the expressions we use come quite close - in terms of clearness of meaning - to the activity of pointing to the facts themselves. We can expect others to attach - at least as far as we can notice - the same meaning to the same expressions; we can think about these expressions without losing track of what we are doing, and thus come to conclusions.
As soon as we talk about other subjects, which are not facts or statements about facts, in a language as defined above we lose track of the meaning, we have no way of knowing what meaning other people attach to what we say; nor do we have any way of knowing that the meaning we give to their messages is the meaning they intended to convey. In fact, we cannot know if we talk about anything real at all. That applies to unquestionably metaphysical subjects such as morals or aesthetics, but - and this is a real, practical, problem - it also applies to the language itself. As soon as we attempt to talk about the meaning which we must attach to our conventions of vocabulary, syntax, and especially semantics, we are building on shifting sand. We can talk in a logical way about facts, but we cannot do so about logic.
In his ‘Investigations’, Wittgenstein retreated from this extreme scepticism, but it is not quite clear by what he replaced it. And one can hardly expect otherwise. For as soon as we take a more functional view of knowledge and communication, progress in that field depends on progress in the understanding of how people create knowledge and how they learn a symbolic language. That is the field of a very young science, not of philosophy.