Lot's wife and the pillar of salt: a question of identity

Great Debates
101

Vorlon,

Let me expand upon my “game” explanation a bit further. I’ll agree that Ring-around-of-Rosy can be thought of as a game if we define a game as any rule based activity. But, tell me this - in what way is a very simple game like Ring-around-a-Rosy similar to games such as chess, or baseball, or Monopoly, or hide-and-seek? Ring-around-a-Rosy and baseball can both be thought of as games, but what makes them games? Both are rule based, but baseball has a definite objective (score more runs than your opponent), while Ring-around-a-Rosy does not.

If we limit our definition of a game to those activities which are rule based, then what’s to stop us from including such activities as mowing the lawn? Shopping for groceries? Baking a cake? Making love? Interviewing for a job? Where do we draw the line?
(And, in fact, we can think of those activities as games - “Making love is just a game…”).

If we expand our definition of game to include an activity that is rule based and has a specific goal or outcome, then what about Ring-around-a-Rosy? Do we now need to stop referring to it as a game?

Generally, most people would not have any trouble discerning the meaning of the statement “Making love is just a game” - it’s just that people would have a different conception of the statement based on their understanding/knowledge of what a “game” is to them (and likewise, their understanding/knowledge of making love as well). For some, the methaphor conjured would be Ring-around-the-Rosy; for others, baseball, or some other notion of what a game is. Granted, one could reject the notion that “making love is just a game” for numeous reasons: It’s a silly metaphor - making love isn’t anthing like a game (in what way?) or making love is hard work - games are always fun (again, in what way?), etc., etc.

I agree that at some point we have to set our definitions so as to be clear in our communication (and have meaning to what we say), but where to draw the line and how we do so is the difficult task. I don’t think there’s a clear-cut, satisfactory way for us as humans given our limitations and the limitations of our language. There’s always going to be a fair amount of “leakage” or “slippage” in our langauge due to the muliplicity of meanings that can be attached to words.

I don’t think it’s erisolver’s contention to play fast-and-lose with definitions (or meanings) - its just that it’s not so clear regarding the definitive definition (or meaning). At least, that’ my impression.

Then again, maybe it is his intention to play fast-and-lose with definitions (or meanings). Gah - I’d better stay clear of this discussion lest I start slipping into a deconstruction minset a la Derrida if that’s the case :slight_smile:

102

The objective of Ring-around-the-Rosy: enjoying oneself.

All of those tasks can be games if they’re done with the ultimate purpose of having fun.

There is, of course, another meaning to game: a competitive, rule-based activity whose objective is to ‘win’ by fulfilling set criteria.

I’m not sure what we should call a solitary activity (such as Solitare) if enjoyment isn’t the ultimate purpose… I’m sure that doesn’t happen often.

103

“Lot’s wife is not Lot’s Wife.” You don’t see the paradox? Well, if you insist on a definitive definition of “Lot’s Wife” you should see it: A is not A.

Then let’s play a game of catch.

Depends on what you mean by “Lot’s Wife”. There was nothing (but hypothetical people) known as Lot’s wife until Lot got married—if we are looking at it like that. Of course, Lot’s wife was Lot’s wife even before she became his wife: she is the person she always has been, since a child, and we just refer to her as his wife now.

Do “Lot’s fiancee” and “Lot’s Wife” and (let’s hypothesize her name is Sarah) “Sarah” refer to different people, or just different aspects? And what aspects may we change and still retain the meaning you seek? A wife must always be a person—if we are talking about the institution of marriage. A wife could be a child—if we were talking about who our wife was before she was married.

Is “wife” a metaphysical constant?

Who isn’t settling on a definition?! I have settled on several: whatever definition was appropriate to the parties doing the identifying at the time. Whatever those criteria were, that was the definition. It just isn’t the definition, of which (I assert) there cannot be.

So this is the ultimate criterion of “a game”? This is the end of the analysis? And if it is, is each activity one engages in for pleasure a game? If not, then how do we distinguish games from other pleasurable behavior (like sex)? Pleasureable behavior guided by rules?—and what about the man who engages in mathematical pursuits for fun in his spare time? What distinguishes this behavior from “a game”? (Or is it a game? Is this how we use the word? I can’t think of an instance when it was used like that, except perhaps in an analogy: “He treats it like a game”, but of course that doesn’t assert it is one.)

Running for political office? Surviving in a jungle or on an island when stranded/shipwrecked? Living? How about trying to raise one’s grade point average (competing with one’s previous grades)? Given this set of rules, what isn’t a game?

Well, is Russian Roulette a game? I think we’d be hard pressed to put enjoyment here.

104

eponymous

But we do it all the time in everyday speech and you don’t notice its difficulty (because it isn’t difficult). The lines we draw are simply the context of the conversation: an error is corrected with, “I didn’t mean it like that.” Which is to say: though it is possible that one could mean that, I do not.

Philosophy makes such line-drawing hard because it seeks finality and clarity. But what is so unclear about identifying something? I mean, don’t we do it every day? Well, yes: but now, what do we do exactly? Do we enumerate properties?

Indeed it is not. But maybe some day, Derrida is third on my list (after I finish with Quine and Merleau-Ponty). :smiley:

Also, Vorlon, I said above in my post to you,

This is a contradiction as stated (a logical contradiction), but the paradox is semantic: If the sentence means something, then the first “Lot’s wife” doesn’t mean the same thing as the second “Lot’s Wife” (otherwise, imagine explaining what you meant: “This here is ‘Lot’s Wife’, and as you can see, it is no longer ‘Lot’s Wife’”). Of course, if we simply abandon the rather metaphysically complicated and epistemologically impossible requirement that Lot’s Wife has a final, and complete, definition that we know and that we mean when we use the symbol, then the statement is fine as it is, and the logical form of the sentence is no longer a contradiction (if there is an obvious logical form of the sentence that can, in fact, encapsulate all the relationships you assert define “Lot’s Wife”).

105

*Originally posted by erislover *

You’re right (about philosophy and line-drawing) - that’s what I was trying to say, but I guess I myself became “bewitched” by my own language. I figured I’d botch Wittgenstein sooner or later :slight_smile:

I’d recommend reading cursory summaries of Derrida’s work before reading his stuff head-on - he can be a bit daunting (I’ve only gotten through bits and pieces myself). But since you seem comfortable with Wittgenstein, I don’t think you’d have too much trouble.

106

Ah, I think maybe I understand what you’re saying. We refer to both Lot’s Wife and the pillar of salt as ‘Lot’s Wife’, because she was turned into the pillar and therefore it has become a placeholder for her in our minds. So it is Lot’s Wife. Am I even close, erislover?

107

You understand me well, Fatwater Fewl. To demonstrate that Lot’s Wife is no longer Lot’s wife, the pillar of salt needs to be Lot’s Wife, and then we compare the properties and relationships we feel define identity to show the error… but the mistake is already made, since we’ve already identified the pillar as Lot’s Wife. If we don’t define the pillar as Lot’s Wife, then why are we even making the comparison? We might as well say this rock isn’t Lot’s Wife either, or this bedsheet. But then what of the phrase we are dealing with, that she turned into a pillar of salt? It demands a comparison! But to then make the comparison, the pillar of salt needs to be Lot’s Wife. And then the question is answered.

In some way, we might consider this an expediency based on our inability to prove a negative, but that seems to be grasping for an objective metaphysic where only the scantest of evidence presents itself, and it still won’t do anything to explain the report that his wife turned into the pillar.

And it isn’t that I don’t think there is some metaphysical sense in which we may identify Lot’s Wife, but in doing so we will still abstract away things (like time, for one example) that at other times we would feel are important. And yet this is no improvement on my approach, for my approach itself was to recognize the way we approached identifying as being the definition.

108

I should also note that the problem is not just epistemological. When we think of people, or identify them (or think of anything or identify anything), I don’t believe there can be a sense in which we mean all those properties and relationships—even if we don’t know them (except, perhaps, when we are doing philosophy!). And this is not a limitation of our brains, for example (it is not a physiological problem). What we mean at any given time is a slice of not all the ways something can be identified but a slice of all the ways we would identify it.

And to be clear, I am not denying any properties that we may use to identify someone or something; I am denying that we use all of them (and even the hypothesis that there is some finite set or choice function for properties and relationships demands a justification I don’t see as possible) all the time to make definitions, and that those are the necessary properties and relationships, that they are definitive. A rose is red, for example. And a rose is red in the dark, too. Now, do you positively see this red in the dark before you? And would you ever choose to identify a rose in the dark by “the red one, not the yellow”? If you did, would your description be more complete? Well, there would be more things said. But how am I to use “red” as a description—as an identifier—in the dark? And now when we turn on the light, the position of it in the room ceases to be a description that is offered: it is the red one, you can see where it is clear enough.