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For Presentation at the Symposium on Pragmatism and Idealism. Académie du Midi and the Institut für Philosophie at Alet les Bains, France, June 1-5, 1998.

Peirce's Discursive Realism

James Liszka
Dept. Philosophy
University of Alaska Anchorage
3211 Providence Dr.
Anchorage, AK 99508
e-mail: afjjl@uaa.alaska.edu
fax: 907-786-4383
homepage: http://cwolf.uaa.alaska.edu/~afjjl/JamesLiszka.htm

     I believe, in part, Peirce's aim is to give us a metaphysical picture which makes sense of two contradictory claims: that there is a reality that exists independently of our representations of it-- that is, the principal thesis of realism--and that the real is that which is dependent upon our representations of it–the classical thesis of idealism. The clash of the two theses is nicely expressed in Peirce's "Consequences of the Four Incapacities": "...there is no thing which is in-itself in the sense of not being relative to the mind, though things which are relative to the mind doubtless are, apart from the relation" (5.311).

     Peirce's attempt at making the two claims coherent is what I would like to call discursive realism. It is opposed to what might be called the discursive idealism of Rorty or Foucault, in which there is neither a privileged discourse, nor can any representational system that can mirror a reality external to such a system. It is also opposed to the standard metaphysical realism which argues that the true is that representation which corresponds to something that exists externally to any system of representation. Instead, I believe it can be argued, that Peirce claims, that although there is a reality external to any system of representation, it is only in that capacity a dynamism, a secondness; consequently, its being is not complete, but completed in its representation, which is gained through a discursive process of inquiry. "The real, then, is that which, sooner or later, information and reasoning would finally result in, and which is therefore independent of the vagaries of mea an you. Thus, the very origin of the conception of reality shows that this conception essentially involves the notion of a COMMUNITY, without definite limits, and capable of a definite increase of knowledge" (CP 5.311). Or, as he says in "How to Make Our Ideas Clear ": "The opinion which is fated to be ultimately agreed to by all who investigate, is what we mean by the truth, and the object represented in this opinion is the real. That is the way I would explain reality" (CP 5.407). But Peirce continues that, nonetheless, "reality is independent, not necessarily of thought in general, but only of what you or I or any finite number of men may think about it," that, "though the object of the final opinion depends on what that opinion is, yet what that opinion is does not depend on what you or I or any man thinks" (CP 5.408).

      For Peirce, making coherence out of ostensibly contradictory claims–that reality is independent of representation, yet dependent upon it, rests on his claim that there are three modalities of being : possibility, actuality and generality (CP 1.23ff), and that it is only in representation that the third can be realized, and the place where all three are unified. It must be kept in mind that for Peirce, "a reality which has no representation is one which has no relation and no quality" (CP 5.312). It is only through representation that a quality can be conveyed, and a generalization established. Thus, the representational system at the end of inquiry serves to complete the real, not simply to correspond to it. The real becomes fully real in an through its true representations, and true representations are found at the end of inquiry.

      The inconsistent claims that reality is independent of representation but dependent upon it is made coherent, if we understand that one modality of reality, secondness is the only modality independent of representation. Understanding the character and role of secondness in Peirce's system is vital, then, to understanding its coherence, and its unique position. It is the misunderstanding of secondness, after all, which Peirce blames for Hegel's error–Peirce says, after all, that he could agree with Hegel save for the absence of secondness in his system (CP 1.368; 1.42). Peirce also attributes Kant's errors to the same source (cf. (CP 6.95).

      Secondness –the "Outward Clash"--is that which makes us realize that there is something external to our representational systems, and gives us access to that mode of being–actuality. A metaphysics which ignores secondness is useless; if a philosophy, in principle, cannot entertain the reality in the insistence of disease, or the imperviousness of a brick wall, or the gravity of the mountain, then it cannot tell us anything truthful about the world. At the same time, the goal of inquiry is not simply to acknowledge the dumb brutishness of life, but to live in it, and not in the way in which a pin ball might live in the confines of its machine, but in the way that achieves comprehension and control in our lives. It is in generality that such things are possible, and it is this modality of reality that emerges in true representational systems. Consequently, we are motivated to investigate, to engage in discursive practices precisely for this reason.

      The enormously important question, then, is what makes a representational system true? But the even more important question is why do we want true representations? But, as it turns out, the very idea of investigative discourse, as Peirce soon discovers, must carry with it certain normative presuppositions–finding the truth as it turns out, commits us to a certain way of being together, certain normative guidelines that are intractable. The reason why we want the truth is that its pursuit yields a normatively qualitative way of life. How is this conclusion reached?

      In order for discourses to generate true representations, its mode of inquiry must be conducive to 2ndness. 2ndness provides only constraint and limit on representations; its says nothing positive to us, there is no content to 2ndness; our goal then is not to know the dynamic object, but to at least minimally arrange our discourses so that the 2ndness of the dynamic object can limit or constrain the representations within our discourses. This requires that our investigative discourses involve methods and processes that are both receptive and designed to be amenable to secondness. For Peirce, at least, science, so far as it involves operationalization, experimentation and observation, conforms to such a model.

      Secondly, in order for inquiry to generate true representations–accurate generalizations-- it must proceed with the right sort of reasoning, one that can wrest the truth from 2ndness. Peirce elaborates a three-pronged, interconnected cycle of reasoning that, once again, is modeled in science: abduction, the reasoning which allows us to develop new representations in light of the shock, surprise and anomaly of our old ones; deduction, which allows us to develop, systematically, those things which we should expect from our existing representations, and, induction, which is the measure of which representations we should keep, and which ones we should discard.

      But what Peirce discovers in following the process of inquiry further, is what grounds these processes of reasoning? We cannot, without inconsistency, prove these processes of reasoning without employing them. The ultimate leading principles of the three principles of reasoning all turn out to require the presupposition of an indefinitely extended community of inquiry, and the hope in such a process, a final opinion will be reached. For example, the ultimate leading principle of deduction is that if a particular logical principle is valid, then in no analogous case will it lead to a false conclusion from true premises (CP 2.204, 2.267, 4.477, W4: 246). In other words the validity of a necessary inference depends on its tendency to generate true conclusions in all analogous circumstances. In effect this is a principle of induction, since it requires a universal confirmation of all analogous cases on the basis of a finite set. The ultimate leading principle of induction is that a method such as as induction , "if steadily adhered to, would at length lead to an indefinite approximation to the truth, or, at least, would assure the reasoner of ultimately attaining as close an approach to the truth as he can, in any way, be assured of attaining" (CP 2.204; cf. CP 1.93). This is, again, based on the principle expressed in the "law of large numbers," that a whole is better known as we know more and more of its parts, a convergence will take place as more and more observations are made, or more and larger samples are employed. The ultimate leading principle of abduction is that the human mind is akin to the truth in the sense that in a finite number of guesses human minds will light upon the correct hypothesis (CP 5. 172, 5. 173), but, again, the proof of it requires success in the long run, that is, the proof is in the ability of a community of investigators to guess successfully most of the time; of course, since our guesses cannot be shown to be right unless they are inductively selected, then the principle of induction, with its need for an indefinitely extended investigation , is the keystone to the entire edifice.

      How, then, could induction be justified on this basis? Only if indeed we successfully reached the end of inquiry–that would be proof that the principle of induction was indeed the right road to truth all along. And how is that possible? Only if we have an indefinitely extended community of inquirers, where the community is so constituted that it promotes and does not block the road of inquiry. In the end, Peirce's critical logic rests on his universal rhetoric, in the sense of articulating the formal structure of discursive practices. As Peirce points out in "The Fixation of Belief," communities that would block the road of inquiry are evident: communities that simply exclude hypotheses or opinions by fiat, those which justify by means of authority. The community which does not block the road of inquiry, then, is one that does not justify ultimately by authority, but by publicly accessible, repeatable and openly demonstrative evidence; it is a community that is open to criticism, and adopts a fallibilistic attitude; it is one that stresses the equality and symmetry of inquirers to propose, refute and support claims. In general, in order to maintain the indefiniteness of inquiry and to insure that the right sort of reasoning is taking place, the community must be normatively structured in a certain way in order to assure the success of inquiry. The search for truth, the last representation, commits us to living in a community with a certain normative structure, and all inquiry has its grounds in norms.

      This sounds fine, except that it generates what Manley Thomson called "the paradox of Peirce's realism": if Peirce's realism requires the real is knowable, then "nothing can remain ultimately unkowable only if an ultimately unknowable fact is assumed, viz,, the indefinite continuation of intellectual inquiry" (1952: 138). In other words, the foundation of Peirce's discursive realism rests on the actuality of an indefinite community of inquirers and their success at inquiry. If we want to find the truth , we are committed to inquire by employing certain forms of reasoning which, in turn, commits us to a certain sort of normatively structured community; the assurance, then, that we will find the truth rests on the claim that such a normatively structured community will be successful. Yet to justify any claim, including this one, we must appeal to the success of the community that we want to be assured of.

      Peirce, I think, tries to address this issue in a couple of different ways–as we'll see shortly. But I think the one that proves to be the most secure in this respect is the approach that changes it away from a empirical or even a metaphysical question to a normative one, that is, to a practical question–in Kant's sense of the term. The representability of the real at the end of inquiry becomes a practical postulate, in the sense that it is a necessary presupposition for the sense of inquiry. Its presupposition is not its guarantee, but its presupposition commits its practitioners to a certain way of life that, like happiness or flourishing, has endotelic or self-justifying reasons–one is not happy for the sake of something else, nor does one flourish for any reason than to flourish–it is a reason that answers all other reasons, and so satisfies the aesthetic ideal. For Peirce, such a community achieves a "concrete reasonableness" even if it is not successful at acquiring the truth. Such a community is endotelic and generates a life that has Socratic worthiness ("life without inquiry is not worth living").

      Let me unpack some of these claims by looking at Peirce's argument for the practical postulate of the community of inquirers, and his possible solutions to Thomson's paradox. One way of framing this problem, is to imagine Peirce trying to answer Meno's dilemma, found in Plato's dialogue of the same name (although I can't find any place where Peirce mentions it specifically). After inquiring into the nature of virtue, Meno is convinced by Socrates that he (Meno) does not know what virtue is–although at one time he thought he had; and Socrates confesses that he doesn't know either. Meno then poses the following dilemma: why inquire then? If we know something already, certainly there is no need to inquire, but if we don't know something, how would we ever know that we knew it–even if we came across it by accident, how would we recognize that it is the true answer to our inquiry? Of course, Plato's answer involves going between the horns of the dilemma with the theory of recollection–so that we are in a state of neither knowing nor not-knowing, but simply forgetting what we already know. Kant answers it differently. Kant's Critique of Pure Reason begins from a very basic paradox at the foundation of human knowledge: how do we know what we know if all we have is our representations of things? If we rely on the so-called correspondence theory (adaequatio rei et intellectus) we could never give Meno a satisfactory answer, since to employ that criterion we must already know the nature of things to which our concepts or our propositions or our representations prove adequate. Unless we can somehow magically step outside of our representations of those objects in order to see them as they really are, then is no hope that this criteria can serve as a foundation for human knowledge. Kant's solution, of course, is to suggest that rather than the foundation of our knowledge lying in the conformity of our concepts to objects, the objects conform to the form of our concepts. But less this lapse into the worst sort of subjective idealism, the objects must be phenomenal objects, that is, the object as it is experienced by us, rather than a real or noumenal object. The price of a foundation to our knowledge is the limit of what we can know. We are limited to our own experiences, reasoning beyond experience is antinimous and speculative.

      But, as we know, although Peirce begins with Kant's problematics, and makes many of his same assumption, he doesn't come to the same solution. Peirce, I think, gives three different types of answers to this dilemma, one a practical answer, a second an empirical one, and a third a normative one.

      The practical answer (really a pragmatic answer in the sense of Kant –cf. Critique of Pure Reason B852 ) goes something like this: why should we inquire? Because it would be completely insane or irrational not to. It's there–we can inquire, and if there is any possibility of knowing the real it is through inquiry–so why not? This argument suggests that for any rational decision-maker it is perfectly rational to hope that inquiry will succeed. The choice could be perceived as a rational choice in the sense that you are more likely to have success if inquiry is so constituted, and it is rational to choose those practices that are more likely to succeed at what you want (cf. Putnam 1987: 82). There are several passages in Peirce that use this sort of reasoning (some of which have been already cited–excuse the redundancy):

"But every fact of a general or orderly nature calls for an explanation; and logic forbids us to assume in regard to any given fact of that sort that it is of its own nature absolutely inexplicable. This is what Kant calls a regulative principle, that is to say, an intellectual hope. The sole immediate purpose of thinking is to render things intelligible; and to think and yet in that very act to think a thing unintelligible is a self-stultification. It is as though a man furnished with a pistol to defend himself against an enemy were, on finding that enemy very redoubtable, to use his pistol to blow his own brains out to escape being killed by his enemy. Despair is insanity. True, there may be facts that will never get explained; but that any given fact is of the number, is what experience can never give us reason to think; far less can it show that any fact is of its own nature unintelligible. We must therefore be guided by the rule of hope, and consequently we must reject every philosophy or general conception of the universe, which could ever lead to the conclusion that any given general fact is an ultimate one. We must look forward tot he explanation, not of al things, but of any given thing whatever. there is no contradiction here, any more than there is in our holding each one of our opinions, while we are ready to admit that it is probable that not all are ture; or any more than there is in saying that any future time will sometime be passed, though there never will be a time when all time is past." (CP 1.405)

The following passage is in this vein too, but it does leak over into some of the other types:

"There cannot be a scintilla of evidence to show that at some time all living beings shall not be annihilated at once, and that forever after there shall be thorough out the universe any intelligence whatever. Indeed, this very assumption involves itself a transcendent and supreme itnerest, and therefore from its very nature is unsusceptible of any support from reasons. This infinite hope which we all have...is something so august and momentous, that all reasoning in reference to it is a trifling impertinence. We do not want to know what are the weights of reasons pro and con–that is, how much odds we should wish to receive on such a venture in the long run–because there is no long run in the case; the question is single and supreme, and ALL is at stake upon it. We are in the condition of a man in a life and death struggle; if we have not sufficient strength, it is wholly indifferent to him how he acts, so t hat the only assumption upon which he can act rationally is the hope of success. So this sentiment is rigidly demanded by logic. If its object were any determinate fact, any private interest, it might conflict with the results of knowledge and so with itself; but when its object is of a nature as wide as the community can turn out to be, it is always a hypothesis uncontradicted by facts and justified by its indispensableness for making any action rational." (CP5.357)

But, as Putnam points out in his interpretation of Peirce's claim here (1987: 82ff), the only hope is that an answer will be achieved in the long run; consequently, for each individual, it is irrational to inquire, since it is unlikely that even a satisfactorily enough questions will be answered in the person's life time. This solution forces the individual into a supererogatory, an altruistic commitment to the community. Thus, in order, to make this argument stand, Peirce must show why an individual ought to be committed to a community which, for him or her, would have limited benefit in this regard.

      The second type of argument is empirical, in the sense of actually trying to show on the basis of induction that inquiry, if definitely extended, and performed with the right method in the right community, will succeed in this respect. However, Peirce does seem to waver on this a bit–at some points he feels it cannot be shown–as it is clear in (CP 5.357) quoted above, but in other places he claims it can be shown ( CP8.43). But, in general, the empirical argument proceeds as if it were an scientific investigation, and so involves the interrelation of abduction, deduction and induction.

      An abduction that solves Meno's dilemma would be the following hypothesis: if we can't know the real, then certainly there is no sense in inquiry, but if we can know the real then inquiry makes sense. Thus, inquiry makes sense only if the real is knowable. It might be said that given this abduction, Peirce then engages in the following set of deductions from it: if the real can be known, then it is representable; if the real can be known only through inquiry, then it is what is represented at the end of inquiry; inquiry would end when there was a general, universal consensus that it has. Thus, if the real is knowable, consensus or the settlement of opinion must occur: the knowablility of the real predicts consensus. The real, then, is that which would be "represented in a true representation" (CP 5.312) i.e., at the end of inquiry. The set of deductions here can be more fine-tuned:

If there is a reality, it is knowable.

If something is knowable it is representable.

If something is knowable and representable, it can be known through inquiry.

If something is known and represented in inquiry, then inquiry will stop.

Therefore, the end of inquiry would be a necessary, though not sufficient condition for having a true representation of the real.

     Inquirers might end inquiries for all sorts of reasons, but they would end inquiry if they could agree that the answer to the inquiry had been obtained, i.e., that there was consensus on this issue. The consensus, of course, is a consensus not based on pure agreement–as in the sense of an arbitrary convention-- but based on methods of reasoning which allow, in principle, the real to be representable, specifically in terms of operationalizing claims so that the regular effects of the real on our perceptions can be observed and secondness–which is the source of that which is independent of our representations–can properly guide the inquiry.

      The empirical proof that the real is knowable would require, as the last step, inductive proof that consensus and settlement of opinion does in fact occur, that it could occur in regard to all inquiries. Even though Peirce seems at times to argue against the possibility, he does give such proofs. First, there is his claim about mathematics as the exemplar of types of investigations that lead to genuine consensus:"Never, in the whole history of the science [of mathematics], has a question whether a conclusion followed mathematically from given premisses, when once started, failed to receive a speedy and unanimous reply" (4.243). But there is this long and involved account:

In the first place, then, upon innumerable questions, we have already reached the final opinion. How doe we know that? Do we fancy ourselves infallible? Not at all; but throwing off as probably erroneous a thousandth or even a hundredth of all the beliefs established beyond present doubt, there must remain a vast multitude in which the final opinion has been reached. Every directory, guide-book, dictionary, history, and work of science is crammed with such facts. In the history of science, it has sometimes occurred that a really wise man has said concerning one question or another that there was reason to believe it ne er would be answered. The proportion of these which have in point of fact been conclusively settled very soon after the prediction has been surprisingly large. Our experience in this direction warrants us in saying with the highest degree of empirical confidence that questions that are either practical or could conceivably become so are susceptible of receiving final solutions provided the existence of the human race be indefinitely prolonged and the particular question excite sufficient interest. As for questions which have no conceivable practical bearings, as the question whether force is an entity, they meaning nothing and may be answered as we like, without error. We may take it as certain that the human race will ultimately be extirpated; because there is a certain chance of it every year, and in an indefinitely long time the chance of survival compounds itself nearer and nearer zero. But, on the other hand, we may take it as certain that other intellectual races exist on other planets,–if not of our solar system, then of others; and also that innumerable new intellectual races have yet to be developed; so that on the whole, it may be regarded as most certain that intellectual life in the universe will never finally cease. The problem whether a given question will ever get answered or not is not so simple; the number of questions asked is constantly increasing, and the capacity for answering them is also on the increase. If the rate of the latter increase is greater than that of the [former] the probability is unity that any give question will be answered; other wise the probability is zero. Consideration too long to be explained here lead me to think that the former state of things is the actual one. In that case, there is but an infinitesimal proportion of questions which do not get answered, although the multitude of unanswered questions is forever on the increase."....From this practical and economical point of view, it really makes no difference whether or not all questions are actually answered, by man or by God, so long as we are satisfied that investigation has a universal tendency toward the settlement of opinion" 8.43.

Or elsewhere:

"If investigation cannot be regarded as proving that there are Real things, it at least does not lead to a contrary conclusion........"Experience of the method has not led us to doubt it, but, on the contrary, scientific investigation has had the most wonderful triumphs in the way of settling opinion. These afford the explanation of my not doubting the method or the hypothesis which it supposes...." 5.384.

But there is an ultimate flaw here in the reasoning here–remember that it is the assurance of success which justifies the principle of induction, yet we are using the principle of induction to give us the assurance. Like the first approach, this one is also ultimately unsatisfying.

      But, in addition to these practical and empirical arguments for consensus and the settlement of opinion, there is a formal one that rests on the notion of presupposition. The commitment to the normative structure of the community of inquiry is based on an intractable presupposition– which makes it a practical postulate, in Kant's sense of the term. Just as the fact that one must presuppose freedom in order to have the possibility of ethics commits one to treat it as a practical postulate, so, one must presuppose the solution to all inquiries as a practical postulate for any such discursive practice. Commitment to that postulate, then, commits one to the normative structure of the community of inquiry. I believe that this is the more fundamental argument of all three. For example, here in the context of Meno's dilemma, it can be argued that Meno's dilemma itself is already embedded in certain presuppositions of inquiry generally: the claim that we cannot know if we know, presupposes that we can know the answer to that question. The presupposition of a solution to all inquiries is intractable.

      This can be argued somewhat differently. All three forms of reasoning, abduction, deduction, and induction, presuppose an indefinitely extended community of inquirers of a certain sort. Peirce calls these presuppositions "indispensable requirements of logic" (2.655). In a certain sense they cannot be questioned, since they form the framework of questioning–much in the sense in which Collingwood talks about "absolute presuppositions" (as opposed to relative ones). The test of this is their intractability to questioning. For example, every inquiry presupposes an answer to inquiry, yet if one inquires about that claim, one presupposes it. Questions about the knowability of the real (claiming that the real is incognizable is nonsense according to Peirce), and of an indefinitely extended community of inquiry are of these sort. Peirce sometimes argues like this: "Nobody....can really doubt that there are Reals, for, if he did, doubt would not be a source of dissatisfaction. The hypothesis, therefore, is one which every mind admits." 5.384. Disclaiming the real calls up the contradictory of those disclaimers. Peirce says,

...there exists a division among facts, such that in one class are all those which are absolutely essential as guiding principles, while in the others are all which have any other interest as objects of research. This division is between those which are necessarily taken for granted in asking why a certain conclusion is thought to follow from certain premisses, and those which are not implied in such a question....As these are facts which we must already know before we can have any clear conception of reasoning at all, it cannot be supposed to be any longer of much interest to inquire into their truth or falsity" 5.369

Thus, like Collingwood's absolute presuppositions( 1979), they set the framework for the very discourse of questioning, and so in questioning them, one must call them up–they are beyond inquiry because they are presupposed in all inquiry.

      But, I think that such presuppositions rather than being purely logical are practical in Kant's sense of the term. To make sense of the practice of inquiry, one must presuppose and be committed to an indefinitely extended community of inquiry with the sort of structure outlined above. Manley Thomson argues this too: "paradox of Peirce's realism is resolved in so far as the assumption of such a community can be made a necessary presupposition, rather than a possible object, of such inquiry...." (1952:141). "A satisfactory resolution of the paradox, therefore, requires development of the view that Peirce's assumption is a presupposition of valid induction–perhaps in the nature of a sentiment or hope, but at any rate a condition antecedent to all actual inquiry" (1952: 139).

      Discursive idealisms. such as Richard Rorty's (1979), argue that truths are relative to representational systems so, consequently no representational system can ever transcend itself. If truth represents the real, and the real is that which is something independent of representation, then, in principle, it cannot be said whether any representational system is true in that sense, since we would have to step outside of our representations in order to judge that correspondence. The ability of our representations or signs to refer to something outside of the sign seems to be impossible in principle, since the very act of referring , and what counts as the object of reference is conditioned by the system of representation. Peirce certainly agrees with this:

"..No proposition relates to an object of representation , or even thoroughly pretend to relate, to any object otherwise than as the object is represented" (CP 6.95).

However, if it were not for the modality of secondness, we could not then distinguish dreaming from waking, and if discursive idealism is correct, then all is a dream. The proof of secondness is that I cannot simply do anything I wish to do; I cannot wish away cancer or dissolve a tumor by analyzing it into its constituent parts. I can think anything I wish, but if I choose to act on what I think, I can always expect surprise, resistance, and defeat.

      Peirce's discursive realism should also be distinguished from Hilary Putnam's internal realism–although it has some things in common with it. Putnam argues that although one cannot escape from some representational schema, and that truth is relative to some conceptual schema, still there is something that exists independently of agents who employ those schemata that will determine something to be true or not , relative to that schema. For Putnam, that which exists independently is, so to speak, the consistency of that schema, and what its commitment entails. In Peirce's discursive realism, secondness is the source of that which is independent of our conceptual schemata or representations; secondness is, as Peirce suggests, "jabs you perpetually in the ribs" (CP 6.95). In the end, Putnam's position commits him to most of the positions of "bad" relativism that he wants to overcome, and leaves the basis of his edifice without support: he must resort to Wittgenstein's dictum that : "this is where my spade is turned."

      Like discursive idealism, and internal Peirce's discursive realism allows the possibility of a variety of representational systems that may complete being, but unlike radical relativism, 2ndness must set a limit and constraint to their number; and, as opposed, to both internal realism and discursive idealism, it shows how it might be possible to ground something without the inherent paradoxes of foundationalism.


Collingwood, R.G.. An Essay on Metaphysics. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1979.
  1. Immanuel. 1781. Critique of Pure Reason. Translated by Norman Kemp Smith. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1965.
Peirce, Charles Sanders. Abbreviated references refer to the following:
  1. The Collected Papers of Charles S. Peirce. 8 vols. Edited by Charles Hartshorne and Paul Weiss (vols. 7 and 8 by A. Burks) (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1965).
  2. The Writings of Charles S. Peirce. 5 vols. to date. Edited by M. Fisch, C. Kloesel, et al. (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1982 to present).
  3. Semiotics and Significs. Edited by C.S. Hardwick (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1977).
  4. The New Elements of Mathematics. 4 vols. Edited by Carolyn Eisele. The Hague: Mouton, 1976.

  1. Manuscript numbers correspond to the Annotated Catalogue of the Papers of Charles S. Peirce. Richard S. Robin. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1967.
  2. References to the correspondence of Peirce.
Putnam, Hilary. 1987. The Many Faces of Realism. La Salle: Open Court.
  1. Rorty, Richard. 1979. Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Thomson, Manley. 1952. The Paradox of Peirce's Realism. Studies in the Philosophy of Charles Sanders Peirce. Edited by P. Wiener and F. Young. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

END OF: James Liszka, "Peirce's Discursive Realism"

Posted to Arisbe website on May 20, 1998


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