4.

Russell’s Theory of Definite Descriptions

Russell’s philosophical method has at its core the making and testing of hypotheses through
the weighing of evidence. Hence Russell’s comment that he wished to emphasize the
“scientific method” in philosophy. His method also requires the rigorous analysis of
problematic propositions using the machinery of first-order logic. It was Russell’s belief that
by using the new logic of his day, philosophers would be able to exhibit the underlying
“logical form” of natural-language statements. A statement’s logical form, in turn, would
help resolve various problems of reference associated with the ambiguity and vagueness of
natural language.
Since the introduction of the modern predicate calculus, it has been common to use three
separate logical notations (“Px”, “x = y”, and “∃x”) to represent three separate senses of the
natural-language word “is”: the is of predication, e.g. “Cicero is wise”; the is of identity, e.g.
“Cicero is Tully”; and the is of existence, e.g. “Cicero is”. It was Russell’s suggestion that,
just as we use logic to make clear these distinctions, we can also use logic to discover other
ontologically significant distinctions, distinctions that should be reflected in the analysis we
give of each sentence’s correct logical form.
On Russell’s view, the subject matter of philosophy is then distinguished from that of the
sciences only by the generality and a prioricity of philosophical statements, not by the
underlying methodology of the discipline. In philosophy, just as in mathematics, Russell
believed that it was by applying logical machinery and insights that advances in analysis
would be made.
Russell’s most famous example of his new “analytic method” concerns so-called denoting
phrases, phrases that include both definite descriptions and proper names. Like Alexius
Meinong, Russell had initially adopted the view that every denoting phrase (for example,
“Scott,” “the author of Waverley,” “the number two,” “the golden mountain”) denoted, or
referred to, an existing entity. On this view, even fictional and imaginary entities had to be
real in order to serve as truth-makers for true sentences such as “Unicorns have exactly one
horn.” By the time his landmark article, “On Denoting,” appeared in 1905, Russell had
modified his extreme realism, substituting in its place the view that denoting phrases need
not possess a theoretical unity. As Russell puts it, the assumption that every denoting phrase
must refer to an existing entity was the type of assumption that exhibited “a failure of that
feeling for reality which ought to be preserved even in the most abstract studies” (1919a,
165).
While logically proper names (words such as “this” or “that” which refer to sensations of
which an agent is immediately aware) do have referents associated with them, descriptive
phrases (such as “the smallest number less than pi”) should be viewed merely as collections
of quantifiers (such as “all” and “some”) and propositional functions (such as “x is a
number”). As such, they are not to be viewed as referring terms but, rather, as “incomplete
symbols.” In other words, they are to be viewed as symbols that take on meaning within
appropriate contexts, but that remain meaningless in isolation.
Put another way, it was Russell’s insight that some phrases may contribute to the meaning
(or reference) of a sentence without themselves being meaningful. As he explains,
If “the author of Waverley” meant anything other than “Scott”, “Scott is the author
of Waverley” would be false, which it is not. If “the author of Waverley” meant “Scott”,
“Scott is the author of Waverley” would be a tautology, which it is not. Therefore, “the
author of Waverley” means neither “Scott” nor anything else – i.e. “the author of Waverley”
means nothing, Q.E.D. (1959, 85)
If Russell is correct, it follows that in a sentence such as
(1) The present King of France is bald,
the definite description “The present King of France” plays a role quite different from the
role a proper name such as “Scott” plays in the sentence
(2) Scott is bald.
Letting K abbreviate the predicate “is a present King of France” and B abbreviate the
predicate “is bald,” Russell assigns sentence (1) the logical form
(1′) There is an x such that

i. Kx,
ii. for any y, if Ky then y=x, and
iii. Bx.
Alternatively, in the notation of the predicate calculus, we write
(1″) ∃x[(Kx & ∀y(Ky → y=x)) & Bx].
In contrast, by allowing s to abbreviate the name “Scott,” Russell assigns sentence (2) the
very different logical form
(2′) Bs.
This distinction between logical forms allows Russell to explain three important puzzles.
The first concerns the operation of the Law of Excluded Middle and how this law relates to
denoting terms. According to one reading of the Law of Excluded Middle, it must be the case
that either “The present King of France is bald” is true or “The present King of France is not
bald” is true. But if so, both sentences appear to entail the existence of a present King of
France, clearly an undesirable result, given that France is a republic and so has no king.
Russell’s analysis shows how this conclusion can be avoided. By appealing to analysis (1′′),
it follows that there is a way to deny (1) without being committed to the existence of a
present King of France, namely by changing the scope of the negation operator and thereby
accepting that “It is not the case that there exists a present King of France who is bald” is
true.
The second puzzle concerns the Law of Identity as it operates in (so-called) opaque contexts.
Even though “Scott is the author of Waverley” is true, it does not follow that the two
referring terms “Scott” and “the author of Waverley” need be interchangeable in every
situation. Thus, although “George IV wanted to know whether Scott was the author
of Waverley” is true, “George IV wanted to know whether Scott was Scott” is, presumably,
false.
Russell’s distinction between the logical forms associated with the use of proper names and
definite descriptions again shows why this is so. To see this, we once again let s abbreviate
the name “Scott.” We also let w abbreviate “Waverley” and A abbreviate the two-place
predicate “is the author of.” It then follows that the sentence
(3) s=s
is not at all equivalent to the sentence
(4) ∃x[(Axw & ∀y(Ayw → y=x)) & x=s].
Sentence (3), for example, is a necessary truth, while sentence (4) is not.
The third puzzle relates to true negative existential claims, such as the claim “The golden
mountain does not exist.” Here, once again, by treating definite descriptions as having a
logical form distinct from that of proper names, Russell is able to give an account of how a
speaker may be committed to the truth of a negative existential without also being committed
to the belief that the subject term has reference. That is, the claim that Scott does not exist is
false since
(5) ~∃x(x=s)
is self-contradictory. (After all, there must exist at least one thing that is identical to s since it
is a logical truth that s is identical to itself!) In contrast, the claim that a golden mountain
does not exist may be true since, assuming that G abbreviates the predicate “is golden”
and M abbreviates the predicate “is a mountain,” there is nothing contradictory about
(6) ~∃x(Gx & Mx).
Russell’s most important writings relating to his theory of descriptions include not only “On
Denoting” (1905), but also The Principles of Mathematics (1903), Principia
Mathematica (1910) and Introduction to Mathematical Philosophy (1919). (See too Kaplan
1970, Kroon 2009 and Stevens 2011.)

Descriptions
First published Tue Mar 2, 2004; substantive revision Wed Sep 21, 2022
The analysis of descriptions has played an important role in debates about metaphysics,
epistemology, semantics, psychology, logic and linguistics ever since the publication of
Bertrand Russell’s paper “On Denoting,” in 1905. Despite the apparent simplicity of definite
and indefinite descriptions, the past 100+ years have seen heated debates about their proper
analysis. For example, some philosophers and linguists treat definite descriptions as
referential expressions, others treat them as quantificational expressions, and some treat them
as predicational expressions. Other analyses of descriptions have held that the determiners
‘the’ and ‘a’ do not make a semantical contribution, but rather a pragmatic contribution to
what is communicated. Some recent work in linguistics has even called into question the idea
that definite and indefinite determiners correspond to logical elements in natural language.
As we will see, none of this undermines the idea that some expressions in natural language
are referential and others quantificational, or that the analysis of these questions isn’t
relevant to Russell’s epistemological and metaphysical projects, but it is to suggest that the
role of the English words ‘the’ and ‘a’ (and their counterparts in other languages) may be
less clear than philosophers in the century following Russell’s paper have imagined.

1. What are Descriptions?

Ordinarily, when philosophers talk about descriptions, they have two kinds of expressions in
mind: definite descriptions—understood to be phrases of the form ‘the F’ (and their
equivalents in other languages), and indefinite descriptions—understood to be phrases of the
form ‘an F’ (and their equivalents in other languages). As we will see, this way of carving up
the kinds of descriptions is far too simple. First, there are many kinds of expressions that
appear to have this form but that are often argued not to be descriptions. For example, in the
expression ‘John is a lawyer’ it is often claimed that ‘a lawyer’ is not a genuine description,
but is rather something different—a predicate for example.
Second, it is arguable that there are many expressions having surface forms quite different
from ‘the F’ or ‘an F’ that could count as being descriptions. For example, it seems quite
plausible that possessives like ‘my father’ are descriptions (as in ‘the father of me’). Russell
also proposed that ordinary proper names could be construed as definite descriptions in
disguise. Thus a name like ‘Aristotle’ might be taken as shorthand for ‘the student of Plato
who taught Alexander, wrote The Nichomachean Ethics etc.’. Furthermore, as we will see, it
has been argued that pronouns like ‘it’ might “stand proxy” for descriptions. So, for example,
the pronoun in (1) might be taken to stand proxy for the corresponding definite description
(indicated by square brackets) in (1′).
(1) A man came in the room. He turned on the TV.
(1′) A man came in the room. [The man who came in the room] turned on the TV.
Similarly, Ludlow (2001) suggested that temporal anaphors like ‘then’ and modal anaphors
like ‘that’ (in ‘that would have been unfortunate’) are descriptions in disguise.
Finally, as noted above, some recent analyses of descriptions have converged on the view
that the contributions the determiners ‘the’ and ‘a’ make are not semantical, but rather
pragmatic or even syntactic in nature. All of these possibilities will be discussed in due
course, but for now we will begin with the analysis of ‘the F’ and ‘an F’ first taken up in
Russell (1905, 1919).
2. Russell’s Theory of Descriptions
The key idea of Russell’s proposal is that a sentence like (2) containing an indefinite
description, is understood to have the logical form in (2′),
(2) An F is G.
(2′) ∃x(Fx & Gx)
and a sentence like (3) containing a definite description is understood to have the logical
form in (3′).
(3) The F is G.
(3′) ∃x(Fx & ∀y(Fy → x=y) & Gx)
Boiled down to its simplest non-technical form, the idea is that an expression of the form in
(3) is shorthand for the conjunction of three claims:
(3a) There is an F.
(3b) At most one thing is F.
(3c) Something that is F is G.
(Following Neale (1990) we will find it useful to substitute (3c′) for (3c), which retains
Russell’s truth conditions and (as we will see) allows us to extend the theory to plural
descriptions in a natural way.)
(3c′) Everything that is F is G.
Thus tweaked, Russell’s analysis is that the semantics of a definite description in a sentence
involves an existence claim, a uniqueness claim, and a maximality claim.

3. Motivations for Russell’s Theory of

Descriptions
There are three main motivations for the theory of descriptions; the first is metaphysical, the
second involves semantical concerns in the philosophy of language, and the third is
epistemological.

3.1 Metaphysical motivations for Russell’s theory of

descriptions
Consider a negative existential sentence like (4).
(4) The present king of France does not exist.
Because definite descriptions are devices of quantification on Russell’s view, they can enter
into scope relations with other operators—in this case, for example, negation. Accordingly,
there is a kind of ambiguity in (4): on one reading it can be interpreted as asserting that it is
not the case that the present king of France exists, while on another reading it can be
interpreted as asserting, about the present king of France, that he doesn't exist. These two
reading can be captured by a difference in logical form, i.e., by representing the difference
using the following two logical forms.
(4a) not ([the x: x is a present king of France] x exists)
(4b) [the x: x is a present king of France] not (x exists)
Here we are using the restricted quantifier notation adopted in Neale (1990). So for example,
we read:
(5) [the x: Fx](Gx)
as saying “the x such that x is F, is such that x is G”. The material in the square brackets
gives the restriction on the quantifier, and the formula in parentheses after the bracket
constitutes the scope of the restricted quantifier. (We sometimes drop the outer parentheses
when it is clear what the scope of the restricted quantifier is, and we sometimes add
parentheses around the entire formula for disambiguation.) Thus, (4a) captures the fact that
the negation has wide scope in a manner that can be glossed thus: it is not the case that
the x such that x is the present king of France exists. Whereas (4b) gives the restricted
quantifier wide scope, in a manner that can be glossed this way: the x such that x is the
present king of France does not exist.
If one wants to avoid the ontological entanglements of nonexistent objects, then one is free to
say that (4b) is false (since it involves quantifying over things that don’t exist) but that (4a) is
true (since it is not the case that there is a present king of France). What is negated in (4a) is
not a claim about some particular individual, but rather a general claim about the world—in
effect a claim that the world contains exactly one individual that is presently the king of
France and that whoever is presently the king of France exists.

3.2 Semantical motivations for Russell’s theory of

descriptions
Russell also had a number of concerns that today we might call “semantical”. Consider the
expressions ‘the Morning Star’ and ‘the Evening Star’. Both refer to (or at least denote) the
planet Venus, but there are contexts in which it seems incorrect to say that they have the
same meaning. For example, it was an astronomical discovery that the Morning Star was
identical to the Evening Star, so it would be odd to treat an expression like ‘The Morning
Star is the Evening Star’ as merely asserting some object to be self-identical. In a similar
vein, if we utter (6),
(6) George wondered whether the Morning Star is the Evening Star.
we are most likely not saying that George was curious about whether Venus was identical to
itself.
Frege proposed that that the solution to this puzzle involved the introduction of senses—
abstract objects that fix the referents of these expressions, each having a different cognitive
significance. In the case of (6), the Fregean solution would be to say that there are different
senses attached to ‘the Morning Star’ and ‘the Evening Star’. If we take these expressions to
be standing proxy for definite descriptions, then (6) can be unpacked as in (6′).
(6′) George wondered whether the star that appears in the morning is identical to the star
that appears in the evening.
Russell saw that scope relations are relevant here. So, for example, sentences like (6) evince
what are sometimes called de dicto/de re ambiguities. There are circumstances under which
George has some object in particular in mind and is wondering, of that object, whether it is
the star that appears in the evening. We can use (6) to report this fact as well; In this case we
may think of the description as taking wide scope relative to the propositional attitude verb
‘wondered’ yielding a logical form like (7).
(7) The star x that appears in the morning is such that George wondered whether x is
identical to the star that appears in the evening.
Alternatively, if George has gone mad and is in fact wondering about the law of identity, this
may be represented as in (8), where both descriptions have wide scope.
(8) The star x that appears in the morning is such that the star y that appears in the evening
is such that George wondered whether x is identical to y.
These considerations speak to a particular semantic consequence, but as Coppock
(forthcoming) notes, the analysis of descriptions has also become an inflection point in
global disputes around semantic frameworks. For example Coppock notes that the analysis of
descriptions may provide evidence in the choice between Situation Semantics (and
presumably, Davidson-style event-based semantic theories) and Dynamic Semantics.

3.3 Epistemological motivations for Russell’s theory of

descriptions
Metaphysical and semantical concerns were important to Russell in his 1905 paper, but
epistemological concerns were no less significant. This became particularly clear when he
authored his (1910–11) paper “Knowledge by Acquaintance and Knowledge by
Description.” In that paper, Russell distinguished between objects that we are directly
acquainted with and objects that we only know under a description. So, for example, I might
know myself by acquaintance, but I know the tallest man in Iowa only under a description.
Ludlow (2002) argued that the Cartesianism in Russell’s psychology and epistemology led
him into difficulties here. The problem is that we can be in error as to whether we are
directly acquainted with someone (did I really have lunch with a colleague or was that a
sophisticated hologram?) and this concern (coupled with the Cartesianism that Russell held
at that point in his career) propelled Russell to radically minimize the class of cases where
we have acquaintance—down to what he called “egocentric particulars,” which is basically
to say I’m only acquainted with myself and sense data. This in turn led Russell to extend the
theory of descriptions to almost all uses of names—treating them as definite descriptions in
disguise.
Russell could have saved himself from some of the more troubling consequences of his view
if he had jettisoned the Cartesianism and opted for a more liberal notion of acquaintance.
Alternatively, if Hawthorne and Manley (2012) are correct, the true mistake would have
come in at the beginning—with the linking of acquaintance and reference. In their view a
case can be made that reference comes much cheaper than Russell imagined. It would follow
that descriptions need not be relied upon as heavily as he imagined