Uncorrect Proofs For Relevance Volume - Stamped
Uncorrect Proofs For Relevance Volume - Stamped
Uncorrect Proofs For Relevance Volume - Stamped
2019
3.2 Description
A first crucial step is to sort out terminology. Recognising that usage varies widely,
we will simply stipulate: a factive verb is one such that, in the right linguistic
context, the complement of that verb is analytically entailed by the truth of the
matrix sentence. ‘Know’ is the paradigm example, but other factive verbs include
‘inform’, ‘recall’, ‘recognise’, ‘regret’, etc. A factive sentence, on the other hand,
is one in which the linguistic context is right, so that the complement of the fac-
tive verb actually is analytically entailed. Thus (3.3) and (3.4) both contain factive
verbs and are factive sentences:
(3.3) Juanito knows that Ottawa is the capital of Canada
(3.4) Rifat informed her mother that Ottawa is the capital of Canada
Crucially, as we use the terminology, there can be non-factive sentences which
contain factive verbs. (3.5) is not a factive sentence, nor is (3.6):
(3.5) Juanito knows whether Regina is the capital of Canada
(3.6) If Rifat purchases a house and a condo, she will regret
buying a condo
Quasi-factives fall within this genus of cases. Our species is especially
interesting because it is hard not to hear our sentences as factive.1 Said out of
the blue, (3.1) and (3.2) are understood as very strongly suggesting the truth of
the complement. Indeed, the hearer might easily report the speaker of (3.1) and
(3.2) as having ‘said’ that Obama has been arrested; relatedly, the truth of the
complement may naturally be heard as ‘main point’.2 All of this presumably
1
Does the term ‘quasi-factive’ apply to a kind of sentence type or to (potential) utterances of a
certain sort? Are quasi-factives, like factive sentences, united by a properly logico-semantic set
of features, or are they a ‘pragmatic kind’? In this introductory description, we leave such issues
open, so as not to beg too many questions.
2
In the earliest discussion of the facts that we are aware of, Hooper (1975: 97ff.) recognises,
albeit using different terminology, that the complement of ‘I’m not surprised that the dog bit the
mailman’ may easily be heard not only as ‘said’ but as ‘main point’ – with ‘I’m not surprised
that’ being understood as merely parenthetical. For additional early discussion, see Green
(1976). Simons (2007) addresses in compelling detail similar sorts of phenomena.
has something to do with the fact that suggesting the truth of the comple-
ment is part of the usual usage of (3.1) and (3.2) – as contrasted with one-off
particularised conversational implicatures. A final and seminal feature of our
quasi-factives is this: if one stops and pays attention, one notices that (3.1) and
(3.2) are not factive sentences in our sense. More than that, in the case of (3.1),
the falsehood of the complement entails the truth of the whole. Thus, though it
sounds humorous, there is no contradiction in saying:
(3.7) It isn’t widely known that Obama has been arrested, because
he hasn’t been arrested!
(3.8) Please do not acknowledge at the press conference that Obama
has been arrested, because he hasn’t been arrested!3
There are numerous sub-varieties of our quasi-factives (Barceló & Stainton
2016). The factive verbs may involve propositional attitudes or discourse. The
propositional attitude verbs, in their turn, divide into cognitive/perceptual ones
(such as ‘forget’, ‘notice’, ‘know’, ‘recall’, ‘recognise’, ‘realise’ and ‘see’) and
emotional/evaluative ones (e.g., ‘amuse’, ‘be proud’, ‘bother’, ‘care’, ‘excite’
and ‘find it odd/surprising/terrific/tragic/unacceptable/wonderful’). Examples
of the discourse sub-variety, beyond ‘acknowledge’, include ‘admit’, ‘confide’,
‘confirm’ and ‘reveal’. (Some speakers hear ‘confess’, ‘note’ and ‘report’ as
discourse-reporting factive verbs too.)
There are also various syntactic configurations which yield quasi-factive
sentences. The verbs can take clausal complements – including finite ones (as
in our original examples), but also infinitival clauses and small clauses:
(3.9) I1 can’t recall [S e1 being shot]
(3.10) I1 don’t regret [S e1 leaving]
(3.11) No one saw [SC him nude]
And the complements don’t have to be clausal:
(3.12) I didn’t recognise [NP Clarice]
(3.13) Have you been informed about [NP Carson’s forced resignation]?
(3.14) I am not pleased about [NP the recent imprisonment of the Governor]
Also, the cancelling negative environment need not be a plain-old negative
particle, as in (3.1) and (3.2). Equally effective is a negative lexical entry or a
negating quantifier phrase:
3
See Carston (1998a) for a more developed argument supporting the claim that sentences like
(7) are not contradictory.
(3.15) It’s seldom reported that Queen Elizabeth was born in Germany
4
The generalisation seems to be that negative contexts, in the sense at issue, are those which
license negative polarity items (NPIs). We won’t explore that observation here. As an interesting
aside, notice that quasi-factives can embed within each other, as in (3.17). The effect of the
complement seeming-to-be-said is retained even in such cases.
5
We set aside in this brief paper a complication noted by Karttunen (1971: 56ff), namely that
the complement of the factive verb may consist of an open sentence, one bound by a quantifier
higher up in the matrix sentence. His example is [Some1 senators regret that [they1 voted for
the SST]]. In such cases, it isn’t strictly the case that the complement considered in isolation is
guaranteed to be true by the factive nature of the verb.
claim. Let’s put things schematically, and then work through an example. A fac-
tive sentence of the form AΦ(p) entails {[AΦ1(p) & AΦ2(p) & AΦ3(p) & …] & p}.
Hence ~AΦ(p), a schema for our quasi-factives, entails ~{[AΦ1(p) & AΦ2(p) &
AΦ3(p) & …] & p}. Now, the negation of a conjunction is logically equivalent
to a disjunction of negations: De Morgan’s law states that ~(q & r) is equiva-
lent to (~q v ~r). Applying this, ~{[AΦ1(p) & AΦ2(p) & AΦ3(p) & …] & p}
is equivalent to {~[(AΦ1(p) & AΦ2(p) & AΦ3(p) & …] v ~p}. Applying the
law a second time, to the first complex disjunct, we get as the entailment of a
quasi-factive:
(3.22) [~AΦ1(p) v ~AΦ2(p) v ~AΦ3(p) v …] v ~p
Applying this abstract machinery to an example, (3.23) below entails the
negation of a conjunctive claim: ~{[(Rob believes that Obama is in jail) &
(Rob has good justification for believing that Obama is in jail) & (Rob’s jus-
tification and belief about Obama being in jail are connected in the right way)
& …] & (Obama is in jail)}.
(3.23) Rob doesn’t know that Obama is in jail
This is equivalent to {~[(Rob believes that Obama is in jail) & (Rob has good
justification for believing that Obama is in jail) & (Rob’s justification and belief
about Obama being in jail are connected in the right way) & …] v ~(Obama
is in jail)}. And that, in turn, leaves us with two potential truth-makers for
(3.23): [~(Rob believes that Obama is in jail) v ~(Rob has good justification
for believing that Obama is in jail) v ~(Rob’s justification and belief about
Obama being in jail are connected in the right way) v …] on the one hand and
~(Obama is in jail) on the other.6
The psychological bit is even more complex. We will therefore lay it out in
two steps. Importantly, the two (major) negative disjuncts differ, and along two
axes. In the cases that work most effectively, the complement p is surprising.
This makes the negation, ~p, unsurprising: that the Queen was not born in
Germany, e.g., is hardly newsworthy. In comparison, the negation of the rela-
tional bit, i.e., of the first (major) disjunct in (3.22), will be more noteworthy.
Suppose Elizabeth the Second was born in Germany; it would be surprising if
this curious and important fact were seldom reported. The first contrast between
6
A logico-metaphysical subtlety merits mentioning, one suggested by Soames’ (1977: 276) criti-
cism of Wilson (1975). Strictly speaking, there are many potential truth-makers for a sentence
like (3.23): e.g., ~[(Obama is in jail) v (Rob has good justification for believing that Obama is in
jail)] would render the sentence true. We hold, however, that such logical combinations are not
among the most psychologically accessible potential truth-makers – any more than ~[(Obama
is in jail) v (32=11)] is, though it too is sufficient for the truth of ‘Rob doesn’t know that Obama
is in jail’. Thus, it is the psychological aspect of our story, not the logical bit, that leaves only
two salient options.
7
In effect, this is the inverse phenomenon of what Grice (1981) called ‘conversational
tailoring’: instead of ignoring the implicit conjuncts that are already part of the common
ground, here we ignore the implicit disjuncts.
8
Speaking of ‘special contexts’, it may seem problematic for our account that there is a kind
of case where the ‘quasi-factive effect’ does not show up. Karttunen (1971: 63) noted them in
passing: he pointed out that ‘John didn’t regret that he had not told the truth’ need not inevitably
suggest the complement’s veracity, e.g., when the issue of whether John regretted not telling
the truth has been explicitly raised. In fact, far from posing an objection, we think such cases
provide additional support for our account. It explains these exceptions quite nicely. If someone
out-and-out asks ‘Does Rob know that Obama is in jail?’ then answering with (3.23) need not
be heard as quasi-factive because the mental representation /rob knows that obama is in jail/ is
already activated; the necessary cognitive processing has already taken place. So, a correction
with the fully spelled-out sentence is no longer as unduly demanding, and the pay-off is higher
because a salient issue has been wholly and explicitly addressed.
multiple trees underlying (3.1), such that the hearer is tricked by an equivoca-
tion between them. (For instance, some theorists might postulate an underlying
tree where the complement clause has been fronted, and another in which it
remains in situ; others might posit one tree which has [neg] being the sister of
the verb, and another which has [neg] as the sister to the matrix sentence. In
both cases, the former tree actually would be factive, while the latter would
not – thence the verbal sleight of hand.) Our account agrees on how quasi-
factive sentences are heard (i.e., as suggestive of a scope-of-negation ambi-
guity), but we do not explain the phenomenon in any such way. To phrase
our proposal another way, the hearer accesses a narrow-negation content in
processing the utterance, and for cognitive-pragmatic reasons. (Compare: the
sentence [S That is not a bachelor] is surely not syntactically ambiguous among
[[neg][A male]], [[neg][A adult]], [[neg][A human]] and [[neg][A unmarried]].)
not even ‘weakly’, from the sentence she uses. We would equally echo two of
her arguments for this approach. First, the class of quasi-factive constructions
is heterogeneous in terms of grammatical structure. Along with Wilson, we
think that’s because what they really have in common is something about
which of their potential truth-makers are pragmatically appropriate – rather
than anything about shared syntactic form. Second, our mutual pragmatics-
oriented approach explains why the ‘support’ we find in quasi-factives is so
weak that it allows for cancellation: it’s because there isn’t logico-semantic
support after all. Cancellation is just what one expects from a pragmatic phe-
nomenon: the hearer draws a non-monotonic inference based on available evi-
dence; the speaker then provides additional evidence, explicitly ruling out the
inference’s conclusion via cancellation; what had seemed the most plausible
hypothesis about speaker meaning thereby gets rejected.
Closely related is Wilson’s Grice-inspired position on the role of conventional
linguistic meaning in fixing what people naturally ‘hear’ as the meaning. In
many cases, people ‘hear’ as part of sentence-meaning what is actually supplied
pragmatically. Our view on quasi-factives dovetails with her stance. We do
not believe that a sentence like (3.1) has, as a matter of its standing linguistic
meaning, a ‘reading’ on which it (weakly) requires the truth of the proposition
OBAMA HAS BEEN ARRESTED. Syntax and compositional semantics do not
yield any such encoded ‘reading’. Instead, cognitive-pragmatic factors make it
such that people tend to interpret typical utterances this way. Connecting even
more directly, Wilson noticed forty years ago that (3.27), a paradigm example
of a quasi-factive sentence, does not logically entail (3.28):
(3.27) Mary doesn’t regret that her grandmother was trampled by
an antelope
(3.28) Mary’s grandmother was trampled by an antelope
She held that the first sentence is logically equivalent to:
(3.29) Either the grandmother was trampled and Mary doesn’t regret it, or
the grandmother wasn’t trampled.
Hence (3.27), she says, is simply true if no trampling occurred. This, of course,
represents the heart of our view.9
9
In fact, what Wilson is implicitly proposing here differs slightly. The way that she phrases
example (3.29) suggests that she takes the logical equivalent of the quasi-factive sentence
~AΦ(p) to be {[(p & (~AΦ1(p) v ~AΦ2(p) v ~AΦ3(p) v …)] v ~p}. This contrasts with our pre-
sent account because p appears as a conjunct within the first (major) disjunct. In this respect, the
view seems closer to a position we pursued in Barceló and Stainton (2016: 73ff.). An advantage
of this approach is that it explains directly why p is heard as said, once the second (major) dis-
junct has been set aside by the hearer on the grounds of cognitive inefficiency. There is then no
need for our ‘second psychological step’.
is no threat to the reality and specialness of quasi-factives that there are other
similar means to ‘con’ hearers.) The other avenue, the one we presently incline
towards, is that all these cases are united by more than the superficial simi-
larities: there is something shared at the level of psychological processing.
Specifically, the general cognitive efficiency story can be told in all cases – it’s
only the specifics of the logical bit which will vary. (Again, see Barceló &
Stainton 2016.)
Acknowledgements
Drafts of this paper were presented at: the Mutual Belief in Pragmatics
Conference, Shan’xi University; Linguistic Talks at Western, in London,
Ontario; a philosophy of language discussion group at Universidad de
los Andes; and the Faculty of Linguistics, Philology and Phonetics at the
University of Oxford. We are grateful to the organisers and to all those pre-
sent. We must especially single out Santiago Amaya, Ash Asudeh, Tomás
Barrero, Lesley Brown, Mitch Green, Mandy Simons and Elizabeth Allyn
Smith for very fruitful suggestions. Thanks also to Adam Sennet, for encour-
agement and tutorials on presupposition; to David Bourget, Robyn Carston,
Angela Mendelovici and Chris Viger for detailed comments on the penulti-
mate draft; and to the editors and an anonymous referee for helpful feedback.
Special thanks are owed to our dear friend and philosophical co-conspirator
Ángeles Eraña Lagos, to whom we dedicate our work on this project. The
research behind this paper was partially funded by DGAPA Project ‘Términos
numéricos e implicatura escalar’ IN401115 and by a grant from the Social
Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.
Our many and varied debts to Deirdre Wilson, sine qua non, go without
saying; but they are implied throughout.