Philosophy 115

Fall 2019
Identity

1. Introduction

We added the quantifiers and the quantifier rules to our system of logic because we came across
arguments which could not be proven valid in TFL. Does that mean we should enrich our system
whenever we encounter a valid inference we cannot yet accommodate? Many logicians and
philosophers are disposed to answer yes. Their answer accounts for the proliferation of "enriched" or
"extended" logics, logics which, in their ability to represent and validate inference, go beyond the
system we have studied so far: modal logics, which permit the validation of inferences turning on
"modal" notions such as possibility and necessity; tense logics, which permit the validation of inferences
turning on temporal notions; and even deontic logics, which permit the validation of certain inferences
turning on moral notions. These are exciting developments, and in enlarging our power to validate
inference they express the important connection between the concept of logic and the concept of
validity. But there is another aspect to the concept of logic, one which resists these developments. This
is the topic-neutrality of logic—logic's status as the most abstract or general science, whose doctrine and
techniques can be applied to the evaluation of inference in any domain of inquiry. As logic is enriched
to accommodate more and more inferences, it threatens to lose its topic-neutrality. "John is a
procrastinator; therefore he tends to put things off" is a valid inference; but does that mean we should
enrich our logic to include the notion of procrastination? The inference turns on what might be called
the "logic" of procrastination, but should the inference be represented and validated in a system of
logic?

We are about to look at an enrichment of logic that is less controversial than others, because the
enrichment involves a notion that seems to be as topic-neutral as negation, disjunction, and
quantification. This is the notion of identity. We have already seen the notion at work in several
arguments (as in the most recent "Arguments in ordinary language"); consider the following one:

Superman is more powerful than a locomotive.

Clark Kent is not more powerful than a locomotive.
Therefore Clark Kent is not Superman.

The kind of identity at work in this argument is numerical identity, the kind of identity enjoyed by
things that are one and the same in number, rather than in kind or quality. Using the constants 'm' and
'c', and the open sentences 'Lx' (for 'x is a locomotive'), 'Pxy' (for 'x is more powerful than y'), and 'Ixy'
(for ‘x is identical to y'), the argument can be symbolized as follows:

"x(Lx É Pmx)
~"x(Lx É Pcx)
Therefore ~Icm.

The translation shows that to a certain extent we can already accommodate the notion of identity. We
can simply include it in our dictionary or symbolization key whenever we find that we need it. To
enrich our logic—to extend FOL into a system of "first-order logic with identity"— is, in part, to
eliminate the need for including the notion of identity in our dictionaries. We introduce the open
sentence 'x=y' (for 'x is identical to y') into our symbolism. The argument can now be symbolized in the
following way, on the basis of a dictionary that includes only 'm', 'c', 'Lx,' and 'Pxy':

"x(Lx É Pmx)
~"x(Lx É Pcx)
Therefore ~(c=m). '~(c=m)' can also be written 'c¹m'.
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2. Translation

Introducing identity into our symbolism brings about an impressive increase in its expressive power.
We already know how to symbolize "There is at least one god." The sign of identity allows us to say
there are at least two, at most two, and exactly two:

There are at least two gods.

There is an x which is a god and a y which is a god, and x and y are not the same.
$x$y[(Gx & Gy) & ~(x=y)].

There are at most two gods.

For any x, for any y, and for any z, if all three are gods, then at least one of the three
is the same as another.
"x"y"z[((Gx & Gy) & Gz) É (((x=y) v (y=z)) v (x=z))].

There are exactly two gods.

This means that there are least two and at most two, and it can therefore be symbolized by
conjoining the previous two translations. But it can put more elegantly as follows:
$x$y[((Gx & Gy) & ~(x=y)) & "z(Gz É ((z=x) v (z=y)))].

These translations can serve as paradigms for translating statements involving higher numbers: "Last
night there were at least seven suspicious-looking Yale students carrying construction paper in the
Harvard section"; "Last night there were exactly eight suspicious-looking Yale students carrying
construction paper in the Harvard section"; "Last night there were at most nine suspicious-looking Yale
students carrying construction paper in the Harvard section"; and so on.

3. Properties of identity

The relation of identity has a number of interesting properties. It is, for example, symmetrical: if x is
identical to y, then y is identical to x. It is also transitive: if x is identical to y, and y is identical to z,
then x is identical to z. Finally, identity is reflexive: if there is some y such that x is identical to it (if x,
in other words, enters into the relation of identity), then x is identical to itself. Relations that are
symmetrical, transitive, and reflexive are known as equivalence relations. Identity is an equivalence
relation, but it is far from the only one. Sameness is weight is another: if x is equal in weight to y, then
y is equal in weight to x; if x and y are equal in weight, and so are y and z, then x and z must be as
well; and if x enters into the relation of sameness in weight (if there is, in other words, some y such
that x is equal in weight to y), then x is equal in weight to itself.

If identity and sameness in weight are both equivalence relations, how do they differ? The relation of
identity has at least two properties that sameness in weight lacks. First, the relation of identity is not
merely reflexive, but totally reflexive: everything is identical to itself. The relation of sameness in
weight is reflexive—everything with weight weighs the same as itself—but it is not totally reflexive
because some things do not enter into it. Numbers do not have weight, and as a result they do not
enter into the relation of sameness in weight. The fact that the number 4 is not equal in weight to itself
proves that sameness in weight is not totally reflexive, even though it is reflexive. The total reflexivity
of identity is an indication of its topic-neutrality.

The second important property of identity is sometimes referred to as the indiscernibility of identicals. If
x and y are the same, then they must be indiscernible: that is, whatever is true of one must be true of
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the other. Descartes exploited this principle in one of his famous proofs that his mind and his body
were two distinct things: if my mind and my body were one and the same, he said, then whatever is
true of my body would be true of my mind. But my body can be divided into spatial parts and my mind
cannot. Therefore my body and my mind are not the same. The indiscernibility of identicals should be
distinguished, as we have noted in the past, from the identity of indiscernibles, according to which
things with exactly the same properties are one and the same. According to the identity of
indiscernibles, which played an important role in the metaphysical system of Leibniz, it is impossible for
two things to differ in number only: there is always a qualitative difference underlying numerical
difference. Unlike the indiscernibility of identicals, the identity of indiscernibles is controversial. (As I
explain in forallx: yale, one Leibnizian argument in favor of the identity of indiscernibles rests on the
principle of sufficient reason. If x and y are distinct, Leibniz insisted, there must be a reason why they
are distinct—a reason why they are two rather than one. But x and y are exactly alike—if each is in
every respect a duplicate of the other—there can be no such reason. Hence if x and y are distinct, they
cannot be exactly alike.)

If we take some of the properties of identity and enshrine them in rules, our system of logic will be able
to validate arguments that turn on the notion of identity. The first property to be so enshrined will be
symmetry. Where a and b are constants,

a=b
Therefore b=a.

The second property will be identity's total reflexivity. Where c is a constant,

Therefore c=c.

This means that for any constant c, the identity c=c can be entered at any point in a proof. The final
property will be the indiscernibility of identicals:

a=b
A(...a...a...)
Therefore A(...b...b...)

where a and b are constants, and A(...a...a...) is any context in which a occurs. The constant b can be
used to replace any or all of the occurrences of a in A(...a...a...). The three rules just presented will be
part of a super-rule called "Identity," and abbreviated ‘Id'. The super-rule (which will include two other
parts, to be revealed below) is more flexible than the rules for identity laid down in forallx: yale (pp.
157-8 and 177); it is the super-rule that I would always like you to use. The new rule of Identity allows
us to validate the inference about Superman and Clark Kent on p. 1 above:

1. "x(Lx É Psx)
2. ~"x(Lx É Pcx)
3. c=m
4. m=c Id 3
5. "x(Lx É Pcx) Id 1, 4
6. ~"x(Lx É Pcx) R 2
7. ~(c=m) ~I 3-6

This is, of course, a bad argument, but not because it is invalid. If Lois Lane were to make the
argument her mistake would not be relying on the indiscernibility of identicals, but believing that Clark
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Kent is not more powerful than a locomotive. Clark Kent is more powerful than a locomotive (even if
Lois doesn't know that) because Clark Kent is Superman.

Can the indiscernibility of identicals be reconciled with the fact that things change in intrinsic character
even though they remain the same thing? (This is sometimes called "the problem of change," or "the
problem of temporary intrinsics.") Can Superman be the same person as Superboy if Superman is a
mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper and Superboy is a high school student?
The best reply, I think, is that Superman is a reporter at a certain time (or for a certain period of time);
Superboy is also a reporter at that time.

4. Definite Descriptions

Up to now, the singular terms (terms denoting single individuals) we have worked with have been, for
the most part, names. Another kind of singular term is a definite description. Examples of such terms
are 'the present king of France', 'the artist formerly known as Prince', 'the discoverer of the quantifier',
and 'the strange visitor from another planet who came to earth with powers and abilities far beyond
those of mortal men'. It is sometimes hard to tell whether an expression is a name or a definite
description, but the difference between them might be put as follows: a definite description singles out
an individual not by "tagging" it, as a name does, but by presenting us with a description true of that
individual and no other. 'The author of Waverley' is not the name of Sir Walter Scott, even though it
appears in place of Scott's name on some of his title pages. The description refers to Scott because
Scott is the one and only person who wrote Waverley. 'Sir Walter Scott' also refers to Scott, but being a
name it does not do so by presenting us with a description true of Scott and no one else. Both 'Sir
Walter Scott' and 'the author of Waverley' pick out the same individual, but they do so in different ways.
As Gottlob Frege proposed, although the two expressions have the same reference, they do not have the
same sense. Just how 'Sir Walter Scott' manages to refer to Scott is a question actively debated by
philosophers.

Consider the definite description 'the discoverer of the quantifier', which refers, as you know, to Frege.
If we abbreviate the predicate or sentence-frame 'x discovers the quantifier' by 'Dx', the description
might be symbolized as follows:

ixDx,

where the place before the initial 'x' is occupied by an upside-down iota. The new expression is read as
follows: 'the x such that . . .' . Note that although the new expression looks very much like '"xDx' and
'$xDx,' unlike them it is not a sentence but a singular term. It behaves very much like a constant, so
that if we wanted to say that the discoverer of the quantifier was a philosopher we could place a 'P' in
front of it (for 'Px', symbolizing 'x is a philosopher'). We will not, however, introduce the upside-down
iota into our symbolism. We will instead adopt a proposal of Bertrand Russell, known as the "theory of
descriptions."

According to Russell, the sentence "The discoverer of the quantifier was a philosopher" means three
things: first, that someone discovered the quantifier; second, that only that someone discovered the
quantifier; and third, that the someone in question was a philosopher. "The discoverer of the quantifier
was a philosopher" can therefore be represented in our symbolism without the upside-down iota, using
the sign of identity:

There is an x such that Dx, and for every y, if Dy then y is identical with x, and Px.
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$x{[Dx & "y(Dy É (y=x))] & Px}.

Russell's theory of descriptions amounts to a definition of the word 'the'. It does not define the word by
giving us a symbol we can substitute for the word defined, as the dictionary does when it defines 'peep'
as 'small sandpiper of the genus Calidris'; instead it defines the word contextually, by showing how
sentences in which the word appears can be translated into sentences in which it does not appear.

So far I have papered over an important distinction, that between a term that purports to refer to a
unique individual and a term that actually succeeds in doing so. 'The present king of France', for
example, purports to refer to a unique individual, but in fact it fails to do so, because there is no
present king of France. One attraction of Russell's theory of descriptions is that it allows us to deal with
sentences involving definite descriptions that fail to refer to a unique thing. "The present king of
France is bald," for example, becomes

$x[(Kx & "y(Ky É (y=x))) & Bx].

So understood, the sentence is false. According to Russell's theory it is also false to say that the author
of Principia Mathematica was a logician. Principia Mathematica had two authors, Russell and Alfred
North Whitehead; it is therefore not the case that one and only one person was the author.

Some philosophers have objected that sentences such as "The present king of France is bald" and "The
author of Principia Mathematica was a logician" should be counted as neither true nor false. They
therefore reject the theory of descriptions, at least as a device for understanding ordinary language.
We will look further into this question in later weeks.

5. Invalidity

I mentioned long ago that the method of expansions cannot establish the invalidity of every invalid
argument. In the case of arguments involving the notion of identity, the method as it stands faces a
problem even more severe: it invalidates some valid arguments. Consider the following case:

Fa
a=b
Therefore Fb.

Since the argument contains no quantifiers, it serves as its own expansion. It is clearly valid, because
'Fb' follows from the premisses by a single application of Id. Yet the premisses and the conclusion are
distinct simple statements, and if we assign T to 'Fa' and 'a=b' and F to 'Fb', the premisses come out
true and the conclusion false. The problem, of course, is that it isn't really possible for 'Fa' and 'a=b' to
be assigned the value T when 'Fb' is assigned the value F. But the method of expansions is not sensitive
to this.

6. The final version of our identity rule (Id)

Here is the full version of our new rule of Identity, which supersedes the identity rules presented in
forallx: yale. Every element in this five-part super-rule rests on a defining property of identity:

A(...a...a...) A(...a...a...)
a=b or b=a ~A(...b...b...) a=b a¹b
\ A(...b...b...) \ a¹b or b¹a \ c=c \ b=a \ b¹a
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7. Our final homework and problem set

Homework for November 14

Translate the following sentences into the symbolism, using the sign of identity.

1. All entrants will win. There will be at most one winner. There is at least one entrant. Therefore,
there is exactly one entrant. (Ex: x is an entrant. Wx: x will win.)

2. The fastest running person is a Scandinavian. Therefore, anyone who is not a Scandinavian can be
outrun by someone or other. (Sx: x is a Scandinavian. Px: x is a person. Fxy: x can run faster than y.)

3. If identity is totally reflexive then it is reflexive. [A relation Rxy is reflexive if and only if
"x($yRxy É Rxx). A relation Rxy is totally reflexive if and only if "xRxx.)

4. My body is spatially divisible. My mind is not spatially divisible. Therefore my mind is not my body.
(m; b; Dx: x is spatially divisible.)

5. God creates everything other than his or her own self. Creation is an asymmetrical relation. [A
relation R is asymmetrical if and only if "x"y(Rxy É ~Ryx).] Therefore nothing creates God. (Cxy: x
creates y; g.)

6. There are exactly three pigeons. There are exactly two holes. Every pigeon is in a hole. Therefore
there are at least two pigeons in the same hole. (Px; Hx; Ixy: x is in y.)

Problem set #4, due at 5 pm on Tuesday, November 19

1. Prove that 1, 2, 4, and 5 are valid, and that 3 is a logical truth. Correct translations of 1 through 5
will be posted (or discussed in lecture) on November 14.

2. Prove that the following maxim of Joseph Butler is a logical truth: "Everything is what it is and not
another thing." (To put Butler's maxim less memorably but more perspicuously: "for every x, x is the
same as itself, and for any y that is not the same as x, x is not the same as y.")

3. This is part of a famous argument from Plato's Republic:

Part of my soul bids me to drink.

Part of my soul does not bid me to drink.
Therefore my soul has at least two parts.

Use 'a' for ‘my soul'; 'Pxy' for ‘x is a part of y'; and 'Bx' for 'x bids me to drink'. Translate the argument
into the symbolism and prove that it is valid.

4. Optional. Prove that 6 above is valid. (Caution: the derivation is quite long.)