Toshihiko Ise
To be presented in July 1998 at the University of Edinburgh
In his treatment of promises, Hume seems to assign an important role to the verbal expression "I promise".* We often use a sentence beginnig with "I promise" in making a promise. It would not sound unnatural to call a sentence of that form "the conventional formula" of a promise, even if we do not specify what we mean by the word "conventional". So Hume seems to think promises are conventional in the sense that they depend on the conventional formula. This way of understanding Hume's argument naturally induces us to attribute to him the view that the conventions on which promises depend are the rules that govern the use of the conventional formula. To show that this attribution is mistaken, I will first compare with Hume's view John Austin's suggestion that the use of a conventional formula is essentially involved in the definition of a promise. (section I) Next I will examine and finally reject two lines of interpretation that try to find in Hume a version of the view that promises are rule-governed. Promises can not be completely analyzed in terms of rules because fully rule-governed acts have also rules that fix the context in which they take place, while the context of a promise is embedded in and inseparable from the context of common life. Promises are not conventional in the Austinian sense of the word. (section II)
Hume may seem to think much the same way as Austin, when he says, in the third Book of the Treatise, that a certain "form of words constitutes what we call a promise," and that when "a man says he promises any thing, he in effect expresses a resolution of performing it; and along with that, by making use of this form of words, subjects himself to the penalty of never being trusted again in case of failure." (T 522)
It appears then that Hume agrees with Austin on two things. First, he says that the use of the performative formula constitutes a promise, namely, that it is the use of the formula "I promise that ..." that makes a promise what it is. Second, he would agree to call a promise conventional in one sense or another.
We must further ask, though, whether these apparent agreements are genuine, and how much light this comparison throws on Hume's concept of conventions. We will set out to answer these questions in the next section.
According to a way of thinking that many philosophers of language of mid-twentieth century share, the importance of the conventional formula for promising might be explained in terms of rules. The idea is that promising is a rule-governed practice and the rules governing the practice defines the conventional formula as something that makes a promise what it is. If we could extract from Hume's text a form of argument along this line, we could justifiably say that Hume regards promises as conventional also in the Austinian sense, though the relation between the two senses of conventionality would then still have to be explained. Hume's text seems to suggest two possibilities, which we will shortly discuss.
Before going into the discussion, it will be convenient to cite two paragraphs towards the end of Treatise III, ii, 5 that are highly pertinent to our discussion. These are presented as additional reflections that confirm that the obligation of promises is not natural. Let us name them (R1) and (R2), respectively.
(R1) focuses on the complex relationship between the speaker's intentions and the obligation of a promise, while (R2) compares promises to religious ceremonies like transubstantion and holy orders. I show the text of these two paragraphs in full in the tnote.*
(R1) [Introduction to the paragraph] To confirm this, we may subjoin some other reflexions concerning that will, which is suppos'd to enter into a promise, and to cause its obligation. [Presentation of the general rule] The expression being once brought in as subservient to the will, soon becomes the principal part of the promise; nor will a man be less bound by his word, tho' he secretly give a different direction to his intention, and with-hold himself both from a resolution, and from willing an obligation.
[Qualification step 1] But tho' the expression makes on most occasions the whole of the promise, yet it does not always so; and one who shou'd make use of any expression of which he knows not the meaning, and which he uses without any intention of binding himself, wou'd not certainly be bound by it.
[Qualification step 2] Nay, tho' he knows its meaning, yet if he uses it in jest only, and with such signs as shew evidently he has no serious intention of binding himself, he wou'd not lie under any obligation of performance; but 'tis necessary that the words be a perfect expression of the will, without any contrary signs.'
[Qualification step 3] Nay, even this we must not carry so far as to imagine, that one, whom, by our quickness of understanding, we conjecture, from certain signs, to have an intention of deceiving us, is not bound by his expression or verbal promise, if we accept of it; but must limit this conclusion to those cases where the signs are of a different kind from those of deceit.
[Conclusion of the paragraph] All these contradictions are easily accounted for, if the obligation of promises be merely a human invention for the convenience of society; but will never be explain'd, if it be something real and natural, arising from any action of the mind or body. (T 523f.)
(R2) I shall further observe, that, since every new promise imposes a new obligation of morality on the person who promises, and since this new obligation arises from his will; 'tis one of the most mysterious and incomprehensible operations that can possibly be imagin'd, and may even be compar'd to transubstantiation or holy orders, where a certain form of words, along with a certain intention, changes entirely the nature of an external object, and even of a human creature. But tho' these mysteries be so far alike, 'tis very remarkable that they differ widely in other particulars, and that this difference may be regarded as a strong proof of the difference of their origins. As the obligation of promises is an invention for the interest of society, 'tis warp'd into as many different forms as that interest requires, and even runs into direct contradictions, rather than lose sight of its object. But as those other monstrous doctrines are mere priestly inventions, and have no public interest in view, they are less disturb'd in their progress by new obstacles; and it must be own'd, that, after the first absurdity, they follow more directly the current of reason and good sense. Theologians clearly perceiv'd that the external form of words, being mere sound, require an intention to make them have any efficacy; and that this intention being once consider'd as a requisite circumstance, its absence must equally prevent the effect, whether avow'd or conceal'd, whether sincere or deceitful. Accordingly they have commonly determin'd, that the intention of the priest makes the sacrament, and that when he secretly withdraws his intention, he is highly criminal in himself; but still destroys the baptism, or communion, or holy orders. The terrible consequences of this doctrine were not able to hinder its taking place; as the inconvenience of a similar doctrine, with regard to promises, have prevented that doctrine from establishing itself. Men are always more concern'd about the present life than the future; and are apt to think the smallest evil which regards the former more important than the greatest which regards the latter. (T 524f.)
First, assimilation to a game. In (R2) Hume compares promises to religious ceremonies like transubstantiation and holy orders. Such ceremonies are supposed to bring changes in the nature of things and persons, but the presumed changes have no significance outside the religious practice of which such ceremonies are parts. Thus, we may say that the supposed changes are the results of moves in a game and they are unintelligible independently from the rules of the game. In such a game, the use of a certain form of words constitutes a supposed change by virtue of the rules. Why, then, does Hume compare promises to such moves in a game? Because, according to him, the obligation of promises does not arise from any natural act of the mind, or natural motive. Thus, the conventional formula of a promise represents nothing that is naturally intelligible. If it can constitute a promise, then it must be by virtue of a set of rules that give it its significance as a move in the game.
Second, the rules of language. In (R1), Hume discusses the circumstances in which the utterance of words fails to constitute a promise, and mentions the knowledge of the meaning of words and the showing of a serious intention to bind oneself as necessary conditions for a promise. Though Hume's discussion is too brief and unsystematic to extract from it a set of necessary and sufficient conditions for promising, the rough picture seems not unlike John Searle's analysis of promises as a type of illocutionary acts.* Searle provides his analysis by way of giving the necessary and sufficient conditions for the utterance of a sentence to constitute a promise. Of the nine conditions of successful promising that he proposes, the first condition that mentions linguistic competence of the parties involved, and the sixth, the seventh, and the eighth conditions that mention several sorts of intentions, seem to have counterparts in Hume's (R1). The most crucial, though, to his argument that connects by means of the rules of language the meaning of an expression to the illocutionary force of the act performed in its utterance, is the ninth condition. It says, "The semantical rules of the dialect spoken by [the speaker] S and [the hearer] H are such that [the sentence] T is correctly uttered if and only if [the other eight] conditions [...] obtain." Thus, it is the semantical rules governing the verbal expression that play the central role in making its utterance a promise. The other conditions serve to supply the appropriate context for the application of the rules.
As to the first suggestion, the analogy between a promise and a move in a game is only partial. This we can understand by looking closely at Hume's own comparison of promises and religious ceremonies. In (R2) Hume contrasts the complexity of the conditions that determine the obligation of promises with the neatness of the rules that govern the alleged effect of a rite. The sacrament requires the intention of the priest who makes it and the absence of the intention prevents the effect. The relation between the speaker's intention and the effect of the utterance is more complex in the case of promises, where deceitful promises equally bind, though therein the intention of carrying them out is absent, as Hume observes in (R1). The difference, then, seems to be defined in terms of the connection between the effect and the act of mind that is supposed to produce it. The presence of the mental act is the necessary and sufficient condition for the sacrament to take place, but this is not the case with regard to promises.
If this is all Hume wanted to say in (R2), though, typical examples of games like chess or baseball seem to be on the same side with promises rather than that of religious ceremonies. If one of the players moves a piece to a certain relative position with regard to the opponent's king, it is a checkmate because of the publicly observable positions of pieces, rather than because of the player's secret intention. Still, games like chess, as well as religious rites, contrast with promises by the neatness and explicitness of their rules. Then, the cause of the difference must lie somewhere else. Let us now turn to the account of the "many different forms" that the obligation of promises is said to be "warp'd into" that is given in (R1).
As we have schematically shown above, the "contradictions" accompanying the obligation of promises are described by way of formulating prima facie general rules and presenting their exceptions, which are in their turns accommodated in additional general rules, to which exceptions are again found. What Hume refers to when he talks about "contradictions" is the fact that every time a rule is proposed we find an exception to it.
As far as we look at the first formulation of the rule in (R1), the analogy between games and promises seems pretty close. One might think of putting the rule in the "count-as" form proposed by Searle.* Thus, a person's utterance of a certain verbal expression counts as a promise. Similarly, we can put many rules of a game in the form "X counts as Y." For example, "An umpire's raising the right hand counts as judging a runner out." This formulation is, of course, quite rough and incomplete. At the very least, the rule of judging a runner out does not really make sense unless it is supplied with the qualifying phrase, "in a baseball game." To generalize this point, a rule of the form "X counts as Y" must be attended with a phrase that describes the appropriate situation in which X counts as Y. The general form of count-as rules would then be "X counts as Y in C," where C stands for the appropriate context for X to count as Y.
As we have seen above, Hume's argument in (R1) implies that a promise will not be completely analyzed in terms of a rule of the form "X counts as Y in C", because no complete specification of C is available. In Searle's idea, the rule of promising is a constitutive, "count-as" rule. It is roughly of the form, "the utterance of T count as a promise in the context where such and such conditions obtain." Searle presupposes the existence of a linguistic community in which there is a fixed relationship between utterances and their contexts, but in (R1) Hume pays attention to indeterminacy of that very relationship. The analysis of a promise along Searle's line, therefore, is anything but satisfactory from the Humean point of view. Thus, we can not read into Hume neither of the two versions of Austinian conventionalism.
Well, yes and no. Certainly we can make a promise only by meaning something, in most cases with words, and to suppose there is a count-as rule would be a convenient way to describe how meaning gives rise to obligation. We must, though, beware of being misled by the idea of a rule. When we talk of a rule, we are easily tempted into thinking that making a promise is more a matter of using a fixed form of words required by a predetermined code than a matter of conveying certain meaning by one or another of indefinitely many possible ways. Let me explain. If you are the foreman of the jury in court, you can bring in a verdict by saying "guilty"* at the right moment, but can not do this by saying "criminal," "responsible," and so on. By contrast, I can promise to give a watch to someone, by saying "I will give you this watch" or maybe even "This watch will be yours" instead of using the so-called conventional formula. What makes my utterance of one of these sentences a promise, rather than a threat, or a simple statement of a fact, is that my giving the watch to the hearer is in the future, that it is within my power to do so, that it is to her advantage and so on. This list can be continued indefinitely. In short, it is the existence of an appropriate situation or context, and not a rule governing the conventional formula that makes the utterance of a sentence a promise. Granted, my utterance of any one of these sentences can fail to constitute a promise, for example, if I have already promised her to give the watch and then confirm by the present utterance my obligation that already exists. In that case, though, I am no more capable of making a new promise by the utterance of the conventional formula, than by the utterance of one of the other sentences. Besides, as even Searle is well aware, we can use the formula "I promise," and make a threat rather than a promise, depending upon the context.** Thus, we do not go any further in explaining the function of words in promise-making by supposing that there are rules that govern the so-called conventional formula.
This alternative interpretation, though, goes against Hume's description of the convention that establishes the scheme of promise making and keeping, which appears in the next paragraph. "All of them, by concert, enter into a scheme of actions, calculated for common benefit, and agree to be true to their word; nor is there any thing requisite to form this concert or convention,* but that every one have a sense of interest in the faithful fulfilling of engagements, and express that sense to other members of the society." (T 522f.) Here Hume says that the convention is a concert by which people enter into a scheme of actions, and this concept of a convention does not imply a rule that governs a certain form of words. Thus, it is an act of entering into agreement that establishes a system, but is distinct from the system itself or one of its rules.
Before concluding, let us look at a further reason conventions resist attempts to write them into rules. The reason is that non-natural communication is involved in conventions. In a convention, people express to each other the sense of interest common to them all. This communication of the sense of interest must have the intentional and non-natural character that is typically shown in linguistic communication. Because, as Hume says, "a man, unacquainted with society, could never enter into any engagements with another, even tho' they could perceive each other's thoughts by intuition," (T 516) and if he is capable of entering into conventions, he will be no longer "unacquainted with society," the knowledge of other minds necessary for conventions must be acquired not by intuition or other non-social means but by non-natural, intentional communication which is essentially social.
It might sound strange to say that conventions resist writing into rules because of intentional communication involved, since intentional communication is typically done by means of language, and language is often considered quintessentially rule-governed behaviour. We have, though, seen above how hopeless an attempt is to analyze in terms of rules even such speech acts as promises, which some philosophers regard as obvious examples of rule-governedness of language. The outcome of such an attempt will be irreducibly open-ended, and at the core of this open-endedness lies the essential feature of conventions, that is, the very intentionality of social communication.
In conventions, people intentionally express their sense of interest to each other. Here, though, any person has no guarantee that her expression will be understood and accepted by others, nor does she know whether she understands properly the others' sense of interest. Since there is no predetemined code that ensures the success of communication, entering into conventions is always, to some extent, a leap in the dark. Once a scheme of actions is established by conventions, people try to make it stable by means of codes of morality and laws. These moral and legal edifice, though, is built on the network of intentions of people who keep trying to understand, and make themselves understood to, each other. Promises, though they are supported by previous conventions, remind us of the fallibility of trust in the rules, since they involve trust in future actions that are by nature not yet realized.