Neural correlates exist for a basic component of logical formulae, PREDICATE(x).
Vision and
audition research in primates and humans shows two independent neural pathways;
one locates objects in body-centered space, the other attributes properties,
such as colour, to objects. In vision these are the dorsal and ventral
pathways. In audition, similarly separable ‘where’ and ‘what’ pathways exist. PREDICATE(x)
is a schematic representation of the brain’s integration of the two processes
of delivery by the senses of the location of an arbitrary referent object,
mapped in parietal cortex, and analysis of the properties of the referent by
perceptual subsystems.
The brain
computes actions using a few ‘deictic’ variables pointing to objects. Parallels
exist between such non-linguistic variables and linguistic deictic devices.
Indexicality and reference have linguistic and non-linguistic (e.g. visual)
versions, sharing the concept of attention. The individual variables of logical
formulae are interpreted as corresponding to these mental variables. In
computing action, the deictic variables are linked with ‘semantic’ information
about the objects, corresponding to logical predicates.
Mental
scene-descriptions are necessary for practical tasks of primates, and pre-exist
language phylogenetically. The type of scene-descriptions used by non-human primates
would be reused for more complex cognitive, ultimately linguistic, purposes.
The provision by the brain’s sensory/perceptual systems of about four variables
for temporary assignment to objects, and the separate processes of perceptual
categorization of the objects so identified, constitute a preadaptive platform
on which an early system for the linguistic description of scenes developed.
This
article argues for the following thesis:
Thesis: Neural evidence exists for predicate-argument structure as the core of phylogenetically and ontogenetically primitive (prelinguistic) mental representations. The structures of modern natural languages can be mapped onto these primitive representations.
The
idea that language is built onto pre-existing representations is common enough,
being found in various forms in works such as Bickerton (1998), Kirby (2000),
Kirby (1999), Hurford (2000b), Bennett (1976). Conjunctions of elementary
propositions of the form PREDICATE(x) have been used by Batali as
representations of conceptual structure pre-existing language in his impressive
computer simulations of the emergence of syntactic structure in a population of
interacting agents (Batali, 2002). Justifying such pre-existing representations
in terms of neural structure and processes is relatively new.
This
paper starts from a very simple component of the Fregean logical scheme, PREDICATE(x),
and proposes a neural interpretation for it. This is, to my knowledge, the
first proposal of a ‘wormhole’ between the hitherto mutually isolated universes
of formal logic and empirical neuroscience. The fact that it is possible to
show a correlation between neural processes and logicians’ conclusions about
logical form is a step in the unification of science. The discoveries in
neuroscience confirm that the logicians have been on the right track, that the
two disciplines have something to say to each other despite their radically
different methods, and that further unification may be sought. The brain having
a complexity far in excess of any representation scheme dreamt up by a
logician, it is to be expected that the basic PREDICATE(x) formalism is
to some extent an idealization of what actually happens in the brain. But,
conceding that the neural facts are messier than could be captured with
absolute fidelity by any formula as simple as PREDICATE(x), I hope to
show that the central ideas embodied in the logical formula map satisfyingly
neatly onto certain specific neural processes.
The
claim that some feature of language structure maps onto a feature of primitive
mental representations needs (i) a plausible bridge between such representation
and the structure of language, and (ii) a characterization of ‘primitive mental
representation’ independent of language itself, to avoid circularity. The means
of satisfying the first, ‘bridge to language’ condition will be discussed in
the next subsection. Fulfilling the second condition, the bridge to brain
structure and processing, establishing the language-independent validity of PREDICATE(x)
as representing fundamental mental processes in both humans and non-human
primates, will occupy the meat of this article (Sections 2 and 3). The article
is original only in bringing together the fruits of others’ labours.
Neuroscientists and psychologists will be familiar with much of the empirical
research cited here, but I hope they will be interested in my claims for its
wider significance. Linguists, philosophers and logicians might be excited to
discover a new light cast on their subject by recent neurological research.
The relationship between language and thought is, of course, a vast topic, and there is only space here to sketch my premises about this relationship.
Descriptions
of the structure of languages are couched in symbolic terms. Although it is
certain that a human’s knowledge of his/her language is implemented in neurons,
and at an even more basic level of analysis, in atoms, symbolic representations
are clearly well suited for the study of language structure. Neuroscientists
don’t need logical formulae to represent the structures and processes that they
find. Ordinary language, supplemented by diagrams, mathematical formulae, and
neologized technical nouns, verbs and adjectives, is adequate for the
expression of neuroscientists’ amazingly impressive discoveries. Where exotic
technical notations are invented, it is for compactness and convenience, and
their empirical content can always be translated into more cumbersome ordinary
language (with the technical nouns, adjectives, etc.).
Logical
notations, on the other hand, were developed by scholars theorizing in the
neurological dark about the structure of language and thought. Languages are
systems for the expression of thought. The sounds and written characters, and
even the syntax and phonology, of languages can also be described in concrete
ordinary language, augmented with diagrams and technical vocabulary. Here too,
invented exotic notations are for compactness and convenience; which syntax
lecturer has not paraphrased S
NP
VP into ordinary English for the benefit of a first-year class? But the
other end of the language problem, the domain of thoughts or meanings, has
remained elusive to non-tautological ordinary language description. Of course,
it is possible to use ordinary language to express thoughts --- we do it all
the time. But to say that ‘Snow is white’ describes the thought expressed by
‘Snow is white’ is either simply wrong (because description of a thought
process and expression of a thought are not equivalent) or at best
uninformative. To arrive at an informative characterization of the relation
between thought and language (assuming the relation to be other than identity),
you need some characterization of thought which does not merely mirror
language. So logicians have developed special notations for describing thought
(not that they have always admitted or been aware that that is what they were
doing). But, up to the present, the only route that one could trace from the
logical notations to any empirically given facts was back through the
ordinary language expressions which motivated them in the first place. A
neuroscientist can show you (using suitable instruments which you implicitly
trust) the synapses, spikes and neural pathways that he investigates. But the
logician cannot illuminatingly bring to your attention the logical form of a
particular natural sentence, without using the sentence itself, or a paraphrase
of it, as an instrument in his demonstration. The mental adjustment that a
beginning student of logic is forced to make, in training herself to have the
‘logician’s mindset’, is absolutely different in kind from the mental
adjustment that a beginning student of a typical empirical science has to make.
One might, prematurely, conclude that Logic and the empirical sciences occupy
different universes, and that no wormhole connects them.
Despite
its apparently unempirical character, logical formalism is not mere arbitrary
stipulation, as some physical scientists may be tempted to believe. One logical
notation can be more explanatorily powerful than another, as Frege’s advances
show. Frege’s introduction of quantifiers binding individual variables which
could be used in argument places was a great leap forward from the
straightjacket of subject-predicate structure originally proposed by Aristotle
and not revised for over two millennia. Frege’s new notation (but not its
strictly graphological form which was awfully cumbersome) allowed one to
explain thoughts and inferences involving a far greater range of natural
sentences. Logical representations, systematically mapped to the corresponding
sentences of natural languages, clarify enormously the system underlying much
human reasoning, which, without the translation to logical notation, would
appear utterly chaotic and baffling.
It
is necessary to note a common divergence of usage, between philosophers and
linguists, in the term ‘subject’. For some philosophers (e.g. Strawson, 1974,
1959), a predicate in a simple proposition, as expressed by John loves Mary,
for example, can have more than one ‘subject’; in the example given, the
predicate corresponds to loves and its ‘subjects’ to John and Mary.
On this usage, the term ‘subject’ is equivalent to ‘argument’. Linguists, on
the other hand, distinguish between grammatical subjects and grammatical
objects, and further between direct and indirect objects. Thus in Russia
sold Alaska to America, the last two nouns are not subjects, but direct and
indirect object respectively. The traditional grammatical division of a
sentence into Subject+Predicate is especially problematic where the ‘Predicate’
contains several NPs, semantically interpreted as arguments of the predicate
expressed by the verb. Which argument of a predicate, if any, is privileged to
be expressed as the grammatical subject of a sentence (thus in English
typically occurring before the verb, and determining number and person
agreement in the verb) is not relevant to the truth-conditional analysis of the
sentence. Thus a variety of sentences such as Alaska was sold to America by
Russia and It was America that was sold Alaska by Russia all
describe the same state of affairs as the earlier example. The difference
between the sentences is a matter of rhetoric, or appropriate presentation of
information in various contextual circumstances, involving what may have been
salient in the mind of the hearer or reader before encountering the sentence,
or how the speaker or writer wishes to direct the subsequent discourse.
Logical
predicates are expressed in natural language by words of various parts of
speech, including verbs, adjectives and common nouns. In particular, there is
no special connection between grammatical verbs and logical predicates. The
typical correspondences between the main English syntactic categories and basic
logical terms are diagrammed below.

Common
nouns, used after a copula, as man in He is a man plainly
correspond to predicates. In other positions, although they are embedded in
grammatical noun phrases, as in A man arrived, they nonetheless
correspond to predicates.
The
development of formal logical languages, of which first order predicate logic
is the foremost example and hardiest survivor, heralds a realization of the
essential distance between ordinary language and purely truth-conditional
representations of ‘objective’ situations in the world. Indeed, early
generations of modern logicians, including Frege, Russell and Tarski, believed
the gap between ordinary language and logical, purely truth-conditional
representations to be unbridgable. Times have changed, and since Montague there
have been substantial efforts to describe a systematic mapping between truth
conditions and ordinary language. Ordinary language serves several purposes in
addition to representation of states of affairs. My argument in this article
concerns mental representations of situations in the world, as these
representations existed before language, and even before communication.
Thus matters involving how information is presented in externalized utterances
is not our concern here. The exclusive concern here with pre-communication
mental representations absolves us from responsibility to account for further
cognitive properties assumed by more or less elaborate signals in communication
systems, such as natural languages. For this reason also, the claims to be made
here about the neural correlates of PREDICATE(x) do not relate at all
directly to matters of linguistic processing (e.g. sentence parsing), as
opposed to the prelinguistic representation of events and situations.
Bertrand
Russell was, of course, very far from conceiving of the logical enterprise as
relating to how non-linguistic creatures represent the world. But it might be
helpful to note that Russell’s kind of flat logical representations, as in
x [KoF(x)
& wise(x)] for The king of France is wise [1], are
essentially like those assumed by Batali (2002) and focussed on in this
article. Russell’s famous controversy with Strawson (Russell, 1905, 1957; Strawson,
1950) centered on the effect of embedding an expression for a predicate in a
noun phrase determined by the definite article. Questions of definiteness only
arise in communicative situations, with which Strawson was more concerned. A
particular object in the world is inherently neither definite nor indefinite;
only when we talk about an object do our referring noun phrases begin to have
markers of definiteness, essentially conveying “You are already aware of this
thing”.
The
thesis proposed here is that there were, and still are, pre-communication
mental representations which embody the fundamental distinction between
predicates and arguments, and in which the foundational primitive relationship
is that captured in logic by formulae of the kind PREDICATE(x). The
novel contribution here is that the centrality of predicate-argument structure
has a neural basis, adapted to a sentient organism’s traffic with the world,
rather than having to be postulated as ‘logically true’ or even Platonically
given. Neuroscience can, I claim, offer some informative answers to the
question of where elements of logical form came from.
The
strategy here is to assume that a basic element of first order predicate logic
notation, PREDICATE(x), suitably embedded, can be systematically related
to natural language structures, in the ways pursued by recent generations of
formal semanticists of natural language, for example, Montague (1970, 1973),
Parsons (1990), Kamp and Reyle (1993). The hypothesis here is not that all
linguistic structure derives from prelinguistic mental representations. I argue
elsewhere (Hurford, 2002) that in fact very little of the rich structure of
modern languages directly mirrors any mental structure pre-existing language.
In
generative linguistics, such terms as ‘deep structure’ and ‘surface structure’,
‘logical form’ and ‘phonetic form’ have specialized theory-internal meanings,
but the basic insight inherent in such terminology is that linguistic structure
is a mapping between two distinct levels of representation. In fact,
most of the complexity in language structure belongs to this mapping, rather
than to the forms of the anchoring representations themselves. In particular,
the syntax of logical form is very simple. All of the complexities of phonological
structure belong to the mapping between meaning and form, rather than to either
meaning or form per se. A very great proportion of morphosyntactic
structure clearly also belongs to this mapping --- components such as
word-ordering, agreement phenomena, anaphoric marking, most syntactic category
distinctions (e.g. noun, verb, auxiliary, determiner) which have no
counterparts in logic, and focussing and topicalization devices. In this
respect, the view taken here differs significantly from Bickerton’s (in Calvin
and Bickerton (2000) that modern grammar in all its glory can be derived, with
only a few auxiliary assumptions, from the kind of mental representations
suitable for cheater detection that our prelinguistic ancestors would have been
equipped with; see Hurford (2002) for a fuller argument.
Therefore,
to argue, as I will in this paper, that a basic component of the representation
of meaning pre-exists language and can be found in apes, monkeys and possibly
other mammals, leaves most of the structure of language (the complex
mappings of meanings to phonetic signals) still unexplained in evolutionary
terms. To argue that apes have representations of the form PREDICATE(x)
does not make them out to be language-capable humans. Possession of the PREDICATE(x)
form of representation is evidently not sufficient to propel a species into
full-blown syntactic language. There is much more to human language than
predicate-argument structure, but predicate-argument structure is the semantic
foundation on which all the rest is built.
The
view developed here is similar in its overall direction to that taken by
Bickerton (1990). Bickerton argues for a ‘primary representation system (PRS)’
existing in variously developed forms in all higher animals. “In all probability,
language served in the first instance merely to label protoconcepts derived
from prelinguistic experience” (91). This is entirely consistent with the view
proposed here, assuming that what I call ‘prelinguistic mental predicates’ are
Bickerton’s ‘protoconcepts’. Bickerton also believes, as I do, that the
representation systems of prelinguistic creatures have predicate-argument
structure. Bickerton further suggests that, even before the emergence of
language, it is possible to distinguish subclasses of mental predicates along
lines that will eventually give rise to linguistic distinctions such as
Noun/Verb. He argues that “[concepts corresponding to] verbs are much more
abstract that [those corresponding to] nouns” (98). I also believe that a
certain basic functional classification of predicates can be argued to give
rise to the universal linguistic categories of Noun and Verb. But that
subdivision of the class of predicates is not my concern here. Here the focus
is on the more fundamental issue of the distinction between predicates and
their arguments. So this paper is not about the emergence of Noun/Verb
structure (which is a story that must wait for another day). (Batali’s (2002)
impressive computer simulations of the emergence of some aspects of natural
language syntax start from conjunctions of elementary formulae in PREDICATE(x)
form, but it is notable that they do not arrive at anything corresponding to a
Noun/Verb distinction.)
On
top of predicate-argument structure, a number of other factors need to come
together for language to evolve. Only the sketchiest mention will be given of
such factors here, but they include (a) the transition from private mental
representations to public signals; (b) the transition from involuntary to
voluntary control; (c) the transition from epigenetically determined to learned
and culturally transmitted systems; (d) the convergence on a common code by a
community; (e) the evolution of control of complex hierarchically organized
signalling behaviour (syntax); (f) the development of deictic here-and-now talk
into definite reference and proper naming capable of evoking events and things
distant in time and space. It is surely a move forward in explaining the
evolution of language to be able to dissect out the separate steps that must be
involved, even if these turn out to be more dauntingly numerous than was
previously thought. (In parallel fashion, the discovery of the structure of DNA
immediately posed problems of previously unimagined complexity to the next
generation of biologists.)
In the view adopted here, a predicate corresponds, to a first approximation, to a judgement that a creature can make about an object. Some predicates are relatively simple. For a simple predicate, the senses provide the brain with input allowing a decision with relatively little computation. On a scale of complexity, basic colour predicates are near the simple end, while predicates paraphrasable as sycamore or weasel are much more complex. Mentally computing the applicability of complex predicates often involves simpler predicates, hence relatively more computation.
Some
ordinary languages predicates, such as big, depend for their
interpretation on the prior application of other predicates. Generically
speaking, a big flea is not big; this is no contradiction, once it is admitted
that the sentence implicitly establishes two separate contexts for the
application of the adjective big. There is ‘big, generically speaking’,
i.e. in the context of consideration of all kinds of objects and of no one kind
of object in particular; and there is ‘big for a flea’. This is semantic
modulation. Such modulation is not a solely linguistic phenomenon. Many of our
higher-level perceptual judgements are modulated in a similar way. An object or
substance characterized by its whitish colour (like chalk) reflects bright
light in direct sunlight, but a light of lower intensity in the shade at dusk.
Nevertheless, the brain, in both circumstances, is able to categorize this
colour as whitish, even though the lower intensity of light is reflected by a
greyish object or substance (like slate) in direct sunlight. In recognizing a
substance as whitish or greyish, the brain adjusts to the ambient lighting
environment. Viewing chalk in poor light, the visual system returns the
judgement ‘Whitish, for poor light’; in response to light of the same
intensity, as when viewing slate in direct sunlight, the visual system returns
the judgement ‘Greyish, for broad daylight’. A similar example can be given
from speech perception. In a language such as Yoruba, with three level lexical
tones, high, mid and low, a single word spoken by an unknown speaker cannot
reliably be recognized as on a high tone spoken by a man or a low or mid tone
spoken by a woman or child. But as soon as a few words are spoken, the hearer
recognizes the appropriate tones in the context of the overall pitch range of
the speaker’s voice. Thus the ranges of external stimuli which trigger a mental
predicate may vary, systematically, as a function of other stimuli present.
This
article will be mainly concerned with 1-place predicates, arguing that they
correspond to perceived properties. There is no space here to present a fully
elaborated extension of the theory to predicates of degree greater than 1, but
a few suggestive remarks may convince a reader that in principle the theory may
be extendable to n-place predicates (n > 1).
Prototypical
events or situations involving 2-place predicates are described by John
kicked Fido (an event) or The cat is on the mat (a situation). Here
I will take it as given that observers perceive events or situations as unified
wholes; there is some psychological reality to the concept of an atomic event
or situation. In a 2-place predication (barring predicates used reflexively),
the two participant entities involved in the event or situation also have
properties. In formal logic, it is possible to write a formula such as
x
y [kick(x,
y)], paraphrasable as Something kicks something. But I claim that it
is never possible for an observer to perceive an event of this sort without
also being able to make some different 1-place judgements about the
participants. Perhaps the most plausible potential counterexample to this claim
would be reported as I feel something. Now this could be intended to
express a 1-place state, as in I am hungry; but if it is genuinely
intended as a report of an experience involving an entity other than the
experiencer, I claim that there will always be some (1-place) property of this
entity present to the mind of the reporter. That is, the ‘something’ which is
felt will always be felt as having some property, such as sharpness, coldness
or furriness. Expressed in terms of a psychologically realistic logical
language enhanced by meaning postulates, this amounts to the claim that every
2-place predicate occurs in the implicans of some meaning postulate
whose implicatum includes 1-place predicates applicable to its
arguments. The selectional restrictions expressed in some generative grammars
provide good examples; the subject of drink must be animate, the object
of drink must be a liquid.
In
the case of asymmetric predicates, the asymmetry can always be expressed in
terms of one participant in the event or situation having some property which
the other lacks. And, I suggest, this treatment is psychologically plausible.
In cases of asymmetric actions, as described by such verbs as hit and eat,
the actor has the metaproperty of being the actor, cashed out in more basic
properties such as movement, animacy and appearance of volition. Likewise, the
other, passive, participant is typically characterized by properties such as
lack of movement, change of state, inanimacy and so forth (see Cruse (1973) and
Dowty (1991) for relevant discussion). Cases of asymmetric situations, such as
are involved in spatial relations as described by prepositions such as on,
in and under, are perhaps less obviously treatable in this way.
Here, I suggest that properties involving some kind of perceptual salience in
the given situation are involved. In English, while both sentences are
grammatical, The pen is on the table is commonplace, but The table is
under the pen is studiously odd. I would suggest that an object described
by the grammatical subject of on has a property of being taken in as a
whole object comfortably by the eye, whereas the other object involved lacks
this property and is perceived (on the occasion concerned) rather as a surface
than as a whole object.
In
the case of symmetric predicates, as described by fight each other or as
tall as, the arguments are not necessarily distinguished by any properties
perceived by an observer.
I
assume a version of event theory (Parsons, 1990,; Davidson, 1980), in which the
basic ontological elements are whole events or situations, annotated as e,
and the participants of these events, typically no more than about three,
annotated as x, y and z. For example, the event described by A
man bites a dog could be represented as
e, x, y,
bite(e), man(x), dog(y), agent(x), patient(y). In clumsy English, this
corresponds to ‘There is a biting event involving a man and a dog, in which the
man is the active volitional participant, and the dog is the passive
participant.’ The less newsworthy event would be represented as
e, x, y,
bite(e), man(x), dog(y), agent(y), patient(x). The situation described by The
pen is on the table could be represented as
e, x, y,
on(e), pen(x), table(y), small_object(x), surface(y).
In
this enterprise it is important to realize the great ambiguity of many ordinary
language words. The relations expressed by English on in An elephant
sat on a tack and in A book lay on a table are perceptually quite
different (though they also have something in common). Thus there are at least
several mental predicates corresponding to ordinary language words. When in the
histories of natural languages, words change their meanings, the overt
linguistic forms become associated with different mental predicates. The
predicates which I am concerned with here are prelinguistic mental predicates,
and are not to be simply identified with words.
Summarizing
these notes, it is suggested that it may be possible to sustain the claim that n-place
predicates (n > 1) are, at least in perceptual terms, constructible
from 1-place predicates. The core of my argument in this article concerns
formulae of the form PREDICATE(x), i.e. 1-place predications. My core
argument in this article does not stand or fall depending on the correctness of
these suggestions about n > 1-place predicates. If the suggestions
about n > 1-place predicates are wrong, then the core claim is
limited to 1-place predications, and some further argument will need to be made
concerning the neural basis of n > 1-place predications. A unified
theory relating all logical predicates to the brain is methodologically
preferable, so there is some incentive to pursue the topic of n >
1-place predicates.
Here
are two formulae of first order predicate logic (FOPL), with their English
translations.
CAME(john) ![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
(Translation:
‘John came’)
x[TALL(x)
& MAN(x) & CAME(x)]
(Translation:
‘A tall man came’)
The
canonical fillers of the argument slots in predicate logic formulae are
constants denoting individuals, corresponding roughly to natural language
proper names. In the more traditional schemes of semantics, no distinction
between extension and intension is made for proper names. On many accounts,
proper names have only extensions (namely the actual individuals they name),
and do not have intensions (or ‘senses’). “What is probably the most widely
accepted philosophical view nowadays is that they [proper names] may have
reference, but not sense.” (Lyons, 1977:219) “Dictionaries do not tell us what
[proper] names mean --- for the simple reason that they do not mean anything”
(Ryle, 1957) In this sense, the traditional view has been that proper names are
semantically simpler than predicates. More recent theorizing has questioned
that view.
In
a formula such as CAME(john), the individual constant argument term is
interpreted as denoting a particular individual, the very same person on all
occasions of use of the formula. FOPL stipulates by fiat this absolutely fixed
relationship between an individual constant and a particular individual entity.
Note that the denotation of the term is a thing in the world, outside the mind
of any user of the logical language. It is argued at length by Hurford (2001)
that the mental representations of proto-humans could not have included terms
with this property. Protothought had no equivalent of proper names. Control of
a proper name in the logical sense requires Godlike omniscience. Creatures only
have their sense organs to rely on when attempting to identify, and to
reidentify, particular objects in the world. Where several distinct objects,
identical to the senses, exist, a creature cannot reliably tell which is which,
and therefore cannot guarantee control of the fixed relation between an object
and its proper name that FOPL stipulates. It’s no use applying the same name to
each of them, because that violates the requirement that logical languages be
unambiguous. More detailed arguments along these lines are given in Hurford
(2001, 1999), but it is worth repeating here the counterargument to the most
common objection to this idea. It is commonly asserted that animals can
recognize other animals in their groups.
“The following quotation demonstrates the prima facie attraction of the impression that animals distinguish such individuals, but simultaneously gives the game away.
‘The speed with which recognition of individual parents can be acquired is illustrated by the ‘His Master’s Voice’ experiments performed by Stevenson et al. (1970) on young terns: these responded immediately to tape-recordings of their own parents (by cheeping a greeting, and walking towards the loudspeaker) but ignored other tern calls, even those recorded from other adult members of their own colony.’ (Walker, 1983:215)
Obviously, the tern chicks in the experiment were not recognizing their individual parents --- they were being fooled into treating a loudspeaker as a parent tern. For the tern chick, anything which behaved sufficiently like its parent was ‘recognized’ as its parent, even if it wasn’t. The tern chicks were responding to very finely-grained properties of the auditory signal, and apparently neglecting even the most obvious of visual properties discernible in the situation. In tern life, there usually aren’t human experimenters playing tricks with loudspeakers, and so terns have evolved to discriminate between auditory cues just to the extent that they can identify their own parents with a high degree of reliability. Even terns presumably sometimes get it wrong. ‘ ... animals respond in mechanical robot-like fashion to key stimuli. They can usually be ‘tricked’ into responding to crude dummies that resemble the true, natural stimulus situation only partially, or in superficial respects.’ (Krebs and Dawkins, 1984:384) ” (Hurford, 2001)
The logical notion of an individual constant permits no degree of tolerance over the assignment of these logical constants to individuals; this is why they are called ‘constants’. It is an a priori fiat of the design of the logical language that individual constants pick out particular individuals with absolute consistency. In this sense, the logical language is practically unrealistic, requiring, as previously mentioned, Godlike omniscience on the part of its users, the kind of omniscience reflected in the biblical line “But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered” (Matthew, Ch.10).
Interestingly,
several modern developments in theorizing about predicates and their arguments
complicate the traditional picture of proper names, the canonical argument
terms. The dominant analysis in the modern formal semantics of natural
languages (e.g. Montague (1970), Montague (1973)) does not treat proper names
in languages (e.g. John) like the individual constants of FOPL. For
reasons having to do with the overall generality of the rules governing the
compositional interpretation of all sentences, modern logical treatments make
the extensions of natural language proper names actually more complex than,
for example, the extensions of common nouns, which are 1-place predicates. In
such accounts, the extension of a proper name is not simply a particular
entity, but the set of classes containing that entity, while the extension of a
1-place predicate is a class. Concretely, the extension of cat is the
class of cats, while the extension of John is the set of all classes
containing John.
Further,
it is obvious that in natural languages, there are many kinds of expressions
other than proper names which can fill the NP slots in clauses.
“Semantically then PNs are an incredibly special case of NP; almost nothing that a randomly selected full NP can denote is also a possible proper noun denotation. This is surprising, as philosophers and linguists have often treated PNs as representative of the entire class of NPs. Somewhat more exactly, perhaps, they have treated the class of full NPs as representable ... by what we may call individual denoting NPs.” (Keenan (1987:464))
This
fact evokes one of two responses in logical accounts. The old-fashioned way was
to deny that there is any straightforward correspondence between natural
language clauses with non-proper-name subjects or objects and their
translations in predicate logic (as Russell (1905) did). The modern way is to
complicate the logical account of what grammatical subjects (and objects),
including proper names, actually denote (as Montague did).
In
sum, logical formulae of the type CAME(john), containing individual
constants, cannot be plausibly claimed as corresponding to primitive mental
representations pre-existing human language. The required fixing of the
designations of the individual constants (‘baptism’ in Kripke (1980)’s terms)
could not be practically relied upon. Modern semantic analysis suggests that
natural language proper names are in fact more complex than longer noun phrases
like the man, in the way they fit into the overall compositional systems
of modern languages. And while proper names provide the shortest examples of
(non-pronominal) noun phrases, and hence are convenient for brief expository
examples, they are in fact somewhat peripheral in their semantic and syntactic
properties.
Such
considerations suggest that, far from being primitive, proper names are more
likely to be relatively late developments in the evolution of language. In the
historical evolution of individual languages, proper names are frequently, and
perhaps always, derived from definite descriptions, as is still obvious from
many, e.g. Baker, Wheeler, Newcastle. It is very rare for languages to
lack proper names, but such languages do exist. Machiguenga (or Matsigenka), an
Arawakan language, is one, as several primary sources (Snell, 1964; Johnson,
2003) testify.
“A most unusual feature of Matsigenka culture is the near absence of personal names (W. Snell 1964: 17-25). Since personal names are widely regarded by anthropologists as a human universal (e.g. Murdock 1960: 132), this startling assertion is likely to be received with skepticism. When I first read Snells discussion of the phenomenon, before I had gone into the field myself, I suspected that he had missed something (perhaps the existence of secret ceremonial names) despite his compelling presentation of evidence and his conclusion:
‘I have said that the names of individual Machiguenga, when forthcoming, are either of Spanish origin and given to them by the white man, or nicknames. We have known Machiguenga Indians who reached adulthood and died without ever having received a name or any other designation outside of the kinship system. ... Living in small isolated groups there is no imperative need for them to designate each other in any other way than by kinship terminology. Although there may be only a few tribes who do not employ names, I conclude that the in Machiguenga is one of those few (W. Snell 1964: 25).
Experience has taught me that Snell was right. Although the Matsigenka of Shimaa did learn the Spanish names given them, and used them in instances where it was necessary to refer to someone not of their family group, they rarely used them otherwise and frequently forgot or changed them. (Johnson, 2003)
Joseph
Henrich, another researcher on Machiguenga tells me “This is a well established
fact among Machiguenga researchers.” (personal communication).
In this society there is very little cooperation, exchange or sharing beyond the family unit. This insularity is reflected in the fact that until recently they didn’t even have personal names, referring to each other simply as ‘father, ‘patrilineal same-sex cousin’ or whatever.” (Douglas, 2001:41)
The
social arrangements of our prelinguistic ancestors probably involved no
cooperation, exchange or sharing beyond the family unit, and the mental
representations which they associated with individuals could well have been
kinship predicates or other descriptive predicates.
In
Australian languages, people are usually referred to by descriptive predicates.
“Each member of a tribe will also have a number of personal names, of different types. They may be generally known by a nickname, describing some incident in which they were involved or some personal habit or characteristic e.g. ‘[she who] knocked the hut over’, ‘[he who] sticks out his elbows when walking’, ‘[she who] runs away when a boomerang is thrown’, ‘[he who] has a damaged foot’. But each individual will also have a sacred name, generally given soon after birth.” (Dixon, 1980:27)
The
extensive anthropological literature on names testifies to the very special
status, in a wide range of cultures, of such sacred or ‘baptismal’ proper
names, both for people and places. It is common for proper names to be used
with great reluctance, for fear of giving offense or somehow intruding on a
person’s mystical selfhood. A person’s proper name is sometimes even a secret.
“the personal names by which a man is known are something more than names. Native statements suggest that names are thought to partake of the personality which they designate. The name seems to bear much the same relation to the personality as the shadow or image does to the sentient body.” (Stanner, 1937, quoted in Dixon, 1980:28)
It is hard to see how such mystical beliefs can have become established in the minds of creatures without language. More probably, it was only early forms of language itself that made possible such elaborate responses to proper names.
Hence,
it is unlikely that any primitive mental representation contained any
equivalent of a proper name, i.e. an individual constant. We thus eliminate formulae
of the type of CAME(john) as candidates for primitive mental
representations.
This
leaves us with quantified formulae, as in
x
[MAN(x) & TALL(x)]. Surely we can discount the universal quantifier
as a
term in primitive mental representations. What remains is one quantifier, which
we can take to be implicitly present and to bind the variable arguments of
predicates. I propose that formulae of the type PREDICATE(x) are
evolutionarily primitive mental representations, for which we can find evidence
outside language.
It
is high time to mention the brain. In terms of neural structures and processes,
what justification is there for positing representations of the form PREDICATE(x)
inside human heads? I first set out some groundrules for correlating logical
formulae, defined denotationally and syntactically, with events in the brain.
Representations
of the form PREDICATE(x) are here interpreted psychologistically;
specifically, they are taken to stand for the mental events involved when a
human attends to an object in the world and classifies it perceptually as
satisfying the predicate in question. In this psychologistic view, it seems
reasonable to correlate denotation with stimulus. Denotations
belong in the world outside the organism; stimuli come from the world outside a
subject’s head. A whole object, such as a bird, can be a stimulus. Likewise,
the properties of an object, such as its colour or shape, can be stimuli.
The
two types of term in the PREDICATE(x) formula differ in their denotations.
An individual variable does not have a constant denotation, but is assigned different
denotations on different occasions of use; and the denotation assigned to
such a variable is some object in the world, such as a particular bird,
or a particular stone or a particular tree. A predicate denotes a constant
property observable in the world, such as greenness, roundness, or the
complex property of being a certain kind of bird. The question to be posed to
neuroscience is whether we can find separate neural processes corresponding to
(1) the shifting, ad hoc assignment of a ‘mental variable’ to different
stimulus objects in the world, not necessarily involving all, or even many, of
the objects’ properties, and (2) the categorization of objects, once they
instantiate mental object variables, in terms of their properties, including
more immediate perceptual properties, such as colour, texture, and motion, and
more complex properties largely derived from combinations of these.
The
syntactic structure of the PREDICATE(x) formula combines the two types
of term into a unified whole capable of receiving a single interpretation which
is a function of the denotations of the parts; this whole is typically taken to
be an event or a state of affairs in the world. The bracketing in the PREDICATE(x)
formula is not arbitrary: it represents an asymmetric relationship between the
two types of information represented by the variable and the predicate terms.
Specifically, the predicate term is understood in some sense to operate on, or
apply to, the variable, whose value is provided beforehand. The bracketing in
the PREDICATE(x) formula is the first, lowest-level, step in the
construction of complex hierarchical semantic structures, as provided, for
example, in more complex formulae of FOPL. The innermost brackets in a FOPL
formula are always those separating a predicate from its arguments. If we can
find separate neural correlates of individual variables and predicate
constants, then the question to be put to neuroscience about the validity of
the whole formula is whether the brain actually at any stage applies the
predicate (property) system to the outputs of the object variable system, in a
way that can be seen as the bottom level of complex, hierarchically organized brain
activity.
The
evidence cited here is mainly from vision. Human vision is the most complex of
all sensory systems. About a quarter of human cerebral cortex is devoted to
visual analysis and perception. There is more research on vision relevant to
our theme, but some work on hearing has followed the recent example of vision
research and arrived at similar conclusions.
Research
on the neurology of vision over the past two decades has reached two important
broad conclusions. One important message from the research is that vision is
not a single unified system: perceiving an object as having certain properties
is a complex process involving clearly distinguishable pathways, and hence
processes, in the brain (seminal works are Trevarthen (1968), Ungerleider and
Mishkin (1982), Goodale and Milner (1992)).
The
second important message from this literature, as argued for instance by Milner
and Goodale (1995), is that much of the visual processing in any organism is
inextricably linked with motor systems. If we are to carve nature at her
joints, the separation of vision from motor systems is in many instances
untenable. For many cases, it is more reasonable to speak of a number of
visuomotor systems. Thus frogs have distinct visuomotor systems for orienting
to and snapping at prey, and for avoiding obstacles when jumping (Ingle, 1973,
1980, 1982). Distinct neural pathways from the frog’s retina to different parts
of its brain control these reflex actions.
Distinct
visuomotor systems can similarly be identified in mammals:
“In summary, the modular organization of visuomotor behaviour in representative species of at least one mammalian order, the rodents, appears to resemble that of much simpler vertebrates such as the frog and toad. In both groups of animals, visually elicited orienting movements, visually elicited escape, and visually guided locomotion around barriers are mediated by quite separate pathways from the retina right through to motor nuclei in the brainstem and spinal cord. This striking homology in neural architecture suggests that modularity in visuomotor control is an ancient (and presumably efficient) characteristic of vertebrate brains.” (Milner and Goodale (1995):18-19)
Coming
closer to our species, a clear consensus has emerged in primate (including
human) vision research that one must speak of (at least) two separate neural
pathways involved in the vision-mediated perception of an object. The
literature is centred around discussion of two related distinctions, the
distinction between magno and parvo channels from the retina to the primary
visual cortex (V1) (Livingstone and Hubel, 1988), and the distinction between
dorsal and ventral pathways leading from V1 to further visual cortical areas
(Ungerleider and Mishkin (1982), Mishkin et al. (1983)). These channels and
pathways function largely independently, although there is some crosstalk
between them (Merigan et al. (1991), Van Essen et al. (1992)) , and in matters
of detail there is, naturally, complication (e.g. Johnsrude et al. (1999),
Hendry and Yoshioka (1994), Marois etal. (2000)) and some disagreement (e.g.
Franz et al. (2000), Merigan and Maunsell (1993), Zeki (1993)). See Milner and
Goodale (1995:33-39, 134-136) for discussion of the magno/parvo-dorsal/ventral
relationship. (One has to be careful what one understands by ‘modular’ when
quoting Milner and Goodale (1995). In real brains modules are neural entities
that modulate, compete and cooperate, rather than being encapsulated processors
for one “faculty” (Arbib, 1987)). It will suffice here to collapse under the
label ‘dorsal stream’ two separate pathways from the retina to posterior
parietal cortex; one route passes via the lateral geniculate nucleus and V1,
and the other bypasses V1 entirely, passing through the superior colliculus and
pulvinar. (See Milner and Goodale (1995:68).) While it is not obvious that both
divergences pertain to the same functional role, the proposals made here are
not so detailed or subtle as to suggest any relevant discrimination between
these two branches of the route from retina to parietal cortex. The dorsal
stream has been characterized as the ‘where’ stream, and the ventral stream as
the ‘what’ stream. The popular ‘where’ label can be misleading, suggesting a
single system for computing all kinds of spatial location; as we shall see, a
distinction must be made between the computing of egocentric (viewer-centred)
locational information and allocentric (other-centred) locational information.
Bridgeman et al. (1979) use the preferable terms ‘cognitive’ (for ‘what’
information) and ‘motor-oriented’ (for ‘where’ information). Another suitable
mnemonic might be the ‘looking’ stream (dorsal) and the ‘seeing’ stream
(ventral). Looking is a visuomotor activity, involving a subset of the
information from the retina controlling certain motor responses such as
eye-movement, head and body orientation and manual grasping or pointing. Seeing
is a perceptual process, allowing the subject to deploy other information from
the retina to ascribe certain properties, such as colour and motion, to the
object to which the dorsal visuomotor looking system has already directed
attention.
“... appreciation of an object’s qualities and of its spatial location depends on the processing of different kinds of visual information in the inferior temporal and posterior parietal cortex, respectively.” (Ungerleider and Mishkin (1982):578)
“... both cortical streams process information about the intrinsic properties of objects and their spatial locations, but the transformations they carry out reflect the different purposes for which the two streams have evolved. The transformations carried out in the ventral stream permit the formation of perceptual and cognitive representations which embody the enduring characteristics of objects and their significance; those carried out in the dorsal stream, which need to capture instead the instantaneous and egocentric features of objects, mediate the control of goal-directed actions.” (Milner and Goodale (1995):65-65)
Experimental and pathological data support the distinction between visuo-perceptual and visuomotor abilities.

Figure 1. [From Milner and Goodale (1995).] Schematic diagram showing major routes whereby retinal input reaches dorsal and ventral streams. The inset [brain drawing] shows the cortical projections on the right hemisphere of a macaque brain. LGNd, lateral geniculate nucleus, pars dorsalis; Pulv, pulvinar nucleus; SC, superior colliculus.
Patients
with cortical blindness, caused by a lesion to the visual cortex in the
occipital lobe, sometimes exhibit ‘blindsight’. Sometimes the lesion is
unilateral, affecting just one hemifield, sometimes bilateral, affecting both;
presentation of stimuli can be controlled experimentally, so that conclusions
can be drawn equally for partially and fully blind patients. In fact,
paradoxically, patients with the blindsight condition are never strictly
‘fully’ blind, even if both hemifields are fully affected. Such patients
verbally disclaim ability to see presented stimuli, and yet they are able to
carry out precisely guided actions such as eye-movement, manual grasping and
‘posting’ (into slots). (See Goodale et al. (1994), Marcel (1998), Milner and
Goodale (1995), Sanders et al. (1974), Weiskrantz (1986), Weiskrantz (1997).
See also Ramachandran and Blakeslee (1998) for a popular account).
These
cited works on blindsight conclude that the spared unconscious abilities in
blindsight patients are those identifying relatively low-level features of a
‘blindly seen’ object, such as its size and distance from the observer, while
access to relatively higher-level features such as colour and some aspects of
motion is impaired [2].
Classic blindsight cases arise with humans, who can report verbally on their
inability to see stimuli, but parallel phenomena can be tested and observed in
non-humans. Moore et al. (1998) summarize parallels between residual vision in
monkeys and humans with damage to V1.
A
converse to the blindsight condition has also been observed, indicating a
double dissociation between visually-directed grasping and visual
discrimination of objects. Goodale et al.’s patient RV could discriminate one
object from another, but was unable to use visual information to grasp
odd-shaped objects accurately (Goodale et al. (1994)). Experiments with normal
subjects also demonstrate a mismatch between verbally reported visual
impressions of the comparative size of objects and visually-guided grasping
actions. In these experiments, subjects were presented with a standard
size-illusion-generating display, and asserted (incorrectly) that two objects
differed in size; yet when asked to grasp the objects, they spontaneously
placed their fingers exactly the same distance apart for both objects (Aglioti
et al. (1995)). Aglioti et al.’s conclusions have recently been called into
question by Franz et al. (2000); see the discussion by Westwood et al. (2000)
for a brief up-to-date survey of nine other studies on this topic.
Advances
in brain-imaging technology have made it possible to confirm in
non-pathological subjects the distinct localizations of processing for object
recognition and object location (e.g. Aguirre and D’Esposito (1997) and other
studies cited in this paragraph). Haxby et al. (1991), while noting the homology
between humans and nonhuman primates in the organization of cortical visual
systems into “what” and “where” processing streams, also note some
displacement, in humans, in the location of these systems due to development of
phylogenetically newer cortical areas. They speculate that this may have
ramifications for “functions that humans do not share with nonhuman primates,
such as language.” Similar homology among humans and nonhuman primates, with
some displacement of areas specialized for spatial working memory in humans, is
noted by Ungerleider et al. (1998), who also speculate that this displacement
is related to the emergence of distinctively human cognitive abilities.
The
broad separation of visual pathways into ventral and dorsal has been tested against
performance on a range of spatial tasks in normal individuals (Chen et al.
(2000)). Seven spatial tasks were administered, of which three “were
constructed so as to rely primarily on known ventral stream functions and four
were constructed so as to rely primarily on known dorsal stream functions”
(380) For example, a task where subjects had to make a same/different judgement
on pairs of random irregular shapes was classified as a task depending largely
on the ventral stream; and a task in which “participants had to decide whether
two buildings in the top view were in the same locations as two buildings in
the side view” (383) was classified as depending largely on the dorsal stream.
These classifications, though subtle, seem consistent with the general tenor of
the research reviewed here, namely that recognition of the properties of
objects is carried out via the ventral stream and the spatial location of
objects is carried out via the dorsal stream. After statistical analysis of the
performance of forty-eight subjects on all these tasks, Chen et al. conclude
“... the specialization for related functions seen within the ventral stream and within the dorsal stream have direct behavioral manifestations in normal individuals. ... at least two brain-based ability factors, corresponding to the functions of the two processing streams, underlie individual differences in visuospatial information processing.” (Chen et al. (2000):386)
Chen et al. speculate that the individual differences in ventral and dorsal abilities have a genetic basis, mentioning interesting links with Williams syndrome (Bellugi et al. (1988), Frangiskakis et al. (1996)).
Milner
(1998) gives a brief but comprehensive overview of the evidence, up to 1998,
for separate dorsal and ventral streams in vision. For my purposes, Pylyshyn
(2000) sums it up best:
“... the most primitive contact that the visual system makes with the world (the contact that precedes the encoding of any sensory properties) is a contact with what have been termed visual objects or proto-objects ... As a result of the deployment of focal attention, it becomes possible to encode the various properties of the visual objects, including their location, color, shape and so on.” (Pylyshyn (2000):206)
Less
research has been done on auditory systems than on vision. There are recent
indications that a dissociation exists between the spatial location of the
source of sounds and recognition of sounds, and that these different functions
are served by separate neural pathways.
Rauschecker
(1997), Korte and Rauschecker (1993) and Tian and Rauschecker (1998)
investigated the responses of single neurons in cats to various auditory
stimuli. Rauschecker concludes
“The proportion of spatially tuned neurons in the AE [= anterior ectosylvian] and their sharpness of tuning depends on the sensory experience of the animal. This and the high incidence of spatially tuned neurons in AE suggests that the anterior areas could be part of a ‘where’ system in audition, which signals the location of sound. By contrast, the posterior areas of cat auditory cortex could be part of a ‘what’ system, which analyses what kind of sound is present.” (Rauschecker (1997):35)
Rauschecker suggests that there could be a similar functional separation in monkey auditory cortex.
Romanski
et al. (1999) have considerably extended these results in a study on macaques
using anatomical tracing of pathways combined with microelectrode recording.
Their study reveals a complex network of connections in the auditory system
(conveniently summarized in a diagram by Kaas and Hackett (1999)). Within this
complex network it is possible to discern two broad pathways, with much
cross-talk between them but nevertheless somewhat specialized for separate
sound-localization and higher auditory processing, respectively. The sound
localization pathway involves some of the same areas that are centrally
involved in visual localization of stimuli, namely dorsolateral prefrontal
cortex and posterior parietal cortex. Kaas and Hackett (1999), in their
commentary, emphasize the similarities between visual, auditory and
somatosensory systems each dividing along ‘what’ versus ‘where’ lines[3]. Graziano
et al. (1999) have shown that certain neurons in macaques have spatial
receptive fields limited to about 30cm around the head of the animal, thus
contributing to a specialized sound-location system.
Coming
to human audition, Clarke et al. (2000) tested a range of abilities in four
patients with known lesions, concluding
“Our observation of a double dissociation between auditory recognition and localisation is compatible with the existence of two anatomically distinct processing pathways for non-verbal auditory information. We propose that one pathway is involved in auditory recognition and comprises lateral auditory areas and the temporal convexity. The other pathway is involved in auditory-spatial analysis and comprises posterior auditory areas, the insula and the parietal convexity.” (Clarke et al. (2000):805)
Evidence
from audition is less central to my argument than evidence from vision. My main
claim is that in predicate-argument structure, the predicate represents some
judgement about the argument, which is canonically an attended-to object. There
is a key difference between vision and hearing. What is seen is an object,
typically enduring; what is heard is an event, typically fleeting. If
language is any guide (which it surely is, at least approximately) mental sound
predicates can be broadly subdivided into those which simply classify the sound
itself (rendered in English with such words as bang, rumble, rush), and
those which also classify the event or agent which caused the sound (expressed
in English by such words as scrape, grind, whisper, moan, knock, tap).
(Perhaps this broad dichotomy is more of a continuum.) When one hears a sound
of the first type, such as a bang, there is no object, in the ordinary sense of
‘object’, which ‘is the bang’. A bang is an ephemeral event. One cannot attend
to an isolated bang in the way in which one directs one’s visual attention to
an enduring object. The only way one can simulate attention to an isolated bang
is by trying to hold it in memory for as long as possible. This is quite
different from maintained visual attention which gives time for the ventral
stream to do heavy work categorizing the visual stimuli in terms of complex
properties. Not all sounds are instantaneous, like bangs. One can notice a
continuous rushing sound. But again, a rushing sound is not an object.
Logically, it seems appropriate to treat bangs and rushing sounds either with
zero-place predicates, i.e. as predicates without arguments, or as predicates
taking event variables as arguments. (The exploration of event-based logics is
a relatively recent development.) English descriptions such as There was a
bang or There was a rushing tend to confirm this.
Sounds
of the second type, classified in part by what (probably) caused them, allow
the hearer to postulate the existence of an object to which some predicate
applies. If, for example, you hear a miaow, you mentally classify this sound as
a miaow. This, as with the bang or the rushing sound, is the evocation of a
zero-place predicate (or alternatively a predicate taking an event variable as
argument). Certainly, hearing a miaow justifies you in inferring that there is
an object nearby satisfying certain predicates, in particular CAT(x).
But is it vital to note that the English word miaow is two-ways
ambiguous. Compare That sound was a miaow with A cat miaowed, and
note that you can’t say *That sound miaowed or *That cat was a miaow.
Where the subject of miaow describes some animate agent, the verb
actually means ‘cause a miaow sound’.
It
is certainly interesting that the auditory system also separates ‘where’ and
‘what’ streams. But the facts of audition do not fit so closely with the
intuitions, canonically involving categorizable enduring objects, which I
believe gave rise to the invention by logicians of predicate-argument notation.
The idea of zero-place predicates has generally been sidelined in logic
(despite their obvious applicability to weather phenomena); and the extension
of predicate-argument notation to include event variables is relatively recent.
(A few visual predicates, like that expressed by English flash, are more
like sounds, but these are highly atypical of visual predicates.)
We
have now considered both visual and auditory perception, and related them to
object-location motor responses involving eye-movement, head-movement, body
movement, and manual grasping. Given that when the head moves, the eyes move
too, and when the body moves, the hands, head and eyes also move, we should
perhaps not be surprised to learn that the brain has ways of controlling the
interactions of these bodyparts and integrating signals from them into single
coherent overall responses to the location of objects. Given a stimulus
somewhere far round to one side, we instinctively turn our whole body toward
it; if the stimulus comes from not very far around, we may only turn our head;
and if the stimulus comes from quite close to our front, we may only move our
eyes. All this happens regardless of whether the stimulus was a heard sound or
something glimpsed with the eye. Furthermore, as we turn our head or our eyes,
light from the same object falls on a track across the retina, yet we do not
perceive this as movement of the object. Research is beginning to close in on
the areas of the brain that are responsible for this integrated location
ability. Duhamel et al. (1992) found that the receptive fields of neurons in
lateral intraparietal cortex are adjusted to compensate for saccades.
“One important form of spatial recoding would be to modulate the retinal information as a function of eye position with respect to the head, thus allowing the computation of location in head-based rather than retina-based coordinates. ... by the time visual information about spatial location reaches premotor areas in the frontal lobe, it has been considerably recalibrated by information derived from eye position and other non-retinal sources.” (Milner and Goodale (1995):90)
The evidence that Milner and Goodale (1995) cite is from Galletti and Battaglini (1989), Andersen et al. (1985), Andersen et al. (1990) and Gentilucci et al. (1983). Brotchie et al. (1995) present evidence that in monkeys
“... the visual and saccadic activities of parietal neurons are strongly affected by head position. The eye and head position effects are equivalent for individual neurons, indicating that the modulation is a function of gaze direction, regardless of whether the eyes or head are used to direct gaze. These data are consistent with the idea that the posterior parietal cortex contains a distributed representation of space in body-centred coordinates” (Brotchie et al. (1995):232)
Gaymard et al. (2000) report on a pathological human case which “supports the hypothesis of a common unique gaze motor command in which eye and head movements would be rapidly exchangeable.” (819) Nakamura (1999) gives a brief review of this idea of integrated spatial representations distributed over parietal cortex. Parietal cortex is the endpoint of the dorsal stream, and neurons in this area both respond to visual stimuli and provide motor control of grasping movements (Jeannerod et al. (1995)). In a study of vision-guided manual reaching, Carrozzo et al. (1999) have located a gradual transformation from viewer-centered to body-centered and arm-centered coordinates in superior and inferior parietal cortex. Graziano et al. (1997) discovered ‘arm+visual’ neurons in macaques, which are sensitive to both visual and tactile stimuli, and in which the visual receptive field is adjusted according to the position of the arm. Stricanne et al. (1996) investigated how lateral intraparietal (LIP) neurons respond when a monkey makes saccades to the remembered location of sound sources in the absence of visual stimulation; they propose that “area LIP is either at the origin of, or participates in, the transformation of auditory signals for oculomotor purposes.” (2071) Most recently, Kikuchi-Yorioka and Sawaguchi (2000) have found neurons which are active both in the brief remembering of the location of a sound and in the brief remembering of the location of a light stimulus. A further interesting connection between visual and auditory localization comes from Weeks et al. (2000), who find that both sighted and congenitally blind subjects use posterior parietal areas in localizing the source of sounds, but the blind subjects also use right occipital association areas originally intended for dorsal-stream visual processing. Egly et al. (1994) found a difference between left-parietal-lesioned and right-parietal-lesioned patients in an attention-shifting task.
The
broad generalization holds that the dorsal stream provides very little of all
the information about an object that the brain eventually gets, but just about
enough to direct attention to its location and enable some motor responses to
it. The ventral stream fills out the picture with further detailed information,
enough to enable a judgement by the animal about exactly what kind of object it
is dealing with (e.g. flea, hair, piece of grit, small leaf, shadow, nipple, or
in another kind of situation brother, sister, father, enemy, leopard, human). A
PET scan study (Martin et al. (1996)) confirms that the recognition of an
object (say, as a gorilla or a pair of scissors) involves activation of a
ventral occipitotemporal stream. The particular properties that an animal
identifies will depend on its ecological niche and lifestyle. It probably has
no need of a taxonomy of pieces of grit, but it does need taxonomies of fruit
and prey animals, and will accordingly have somewhat finely detailed mental
categories for different types of fruit and prey. I identify such mental
categories, along with non-constant properties, such as colour, texture and
movement, which the ventral stream also delivers, with predicates.
Some
information about an object, for example enough about its shape and size to
grasp it, can be accessed via the dorsal stream, in a preattentive process. The
evidence cited above from optical size illusions in normal subjects shows that
information about size as delivered by the dorsal stream can be at odds with
information about size as delivered by the ventral stream. Thus we cannot say
that the two streams have access to exactly the same property, ‘size’;
presumably the same is true for shape. Much processing for shape occurs in the
ventral stream, after its divergence from the dorsal stream in V1 (Gross
(1992)) ; at the early V1 stage full shapes are not represented, but rather
basic information about lines and oriented edges, as Hubel and Wiesel (1968)
first argued, or possibly about certain 3D aspects of shape (Lehky and
Sejnowski, 1988). Something about the appearance of an object in peripheral
vision draws attention to it. Once the object is focally attended to, we can
try to report the ‘something’ about it that drew our attention. But the
informational encapsulation (in the sense of Fodor (1983)) of the
attention-directing reflex means that the more deliberative process of
contemplating an object cannot be guaranteed to report accurately on this
‘something’. And stimuli impinging on the retinal periphery trigger different
processes from stimuli impinging on the fovea. Thus it is not clear whether the
dorsal stream can be said to deliver any properties, or mental predicates, at
all. It may not be appropriate to speak of the dorsal stream delivering representations
(accessible to report) of the nature of objects. Nevertheless, in a clear
sense, the dorsal stream does deliver objects, in a minimal sense of
‘object’ to be discussed below. What the dorsal stream delivers, very fast, is
information about the egocentric location of an object, which triggers motor
responses resulting in the orientation of focal attention to the object. (At a
broad-brush level, the differences between preattentive processes and focal
attention have been known for some time, and are concisely and elegantly set
out in Ch.5 of Neisser (1967).) In a functioning high-level organism, the
information provided by the dorsal and ventral streams can be expected to be
well coordinated (except in the unusual circumstances which generate
illusions). Thus, although predicates/properties are delivered by the ventral
stream it would not be surprising if a few of the mental predicates available
to a human being did not also correspond at least roughly to information of the
type used by the dorsal stream. But humans have an enormous wealth of other
predicates as well, undoubtedly accessed exclusively via the ventral stream,
and bearing only indirect relationships to salient attention-drawing traits of
objects. Humans classify and name objects (and substances) on the basis of
properties at all levels of concreteness and salience. Landau et al. (1988),
Smith et al. (1996), Landau et al. (1998a) and Landau et al. (1998b) report a
number of experiments on adults’ and children’s dispositions to name familiar
and unfamiliar objects. There are clear differences between children and
adults, and between children’s responses to objects that they in some sense
understand and to those that are strange to them. Those subjects with least
conceptual knowledge of the objects presented, that is the youngest children,
presented with strange objects, tended to name objects on the basis of their
shape. Smith et al. (1996) relate this disposition to the attention-drawing
traits of objects:
“Given that an adult is attending to a concrete object and producing a novel name, children may interpret the novel name as referring to ‘whatever it is about the object that most demands attention.’ An attentional device that produces this result may work well enough to start a child’s learning of a specific object name.” (Smith et al. (1996:169)
This is not unexpected. Higher-level features and categories are learned, and once learned, can be applied in extending names to things. The youngest humans, having learned few or no higher-level categories, have only the most basic features to appeal to, those corresponding to information gleaned by the dorsal stream. See Bloom (2000) for a recent commentary on this literature, emphasizing a different theme, but consistent with the hypothesis that children’s earliest naming tendencies capitalize strongly on attention-drawing traits of objects.
But
doesn’t talk of ‘attention-drawing traits of objects’ undermine my central
argument, by locating some ‘traits’ (alias properties) within the class of
information delivered by the dorsal stream? A position diametrically opposed to
mine would be that ultimately there is no distinction at all to be made between
objects and properties. A philosophical argument for such a position might
appeal to English terms such as ‘objecthood’, meaning the property of being an
object. Advanced logical systems can play havoc with basic ontological
categories, such as object and property, by various devices such as
type-raising. Such devices may be appropriate in the analysis of elaborated
human languages and the systems of thought that they make available. Yes,
humans can treat properties as objects, by reification, and objects as
properties (by ‘Pegasizing Pegasus’, as Quine put it). But I would claim that
an ape’s mental traffic with the world is in terms of two broadly
non-interconvertible ontological categories, object and property.
A
more psychologically plausible argument against my position might claim that any
property of an object that one could give a name to could in principle be an
attention-drawing trait. This would potentially attribute to the dorsal stream
any information conveyed by a predicate, thus destroying the hypothesis that it
is the ventral stream that delivers predicates. I emphasize that such issues
should be addressed with empirical (neuro-)psychological evidence, rather than
purely philosophical argumentation. Some relevant evidence exists, pointed out
by O’Brien and Opie (1999), in connection with blindsight, as follows.
“Consider the comments made by Weiskrantz’ subject D.B., after performing well above chance in a test that involved distinguishing between Xs and Os presented in his scotoma. While D.B. maintained that he performed the task merely by guessing:
‘If pressed, he might say that he perhaps had a “feeling” that the stimulus was either pointing this or that way, or was "smooth" (the O) or “jagged” (the X). On one occasion in which “blanks” were randomly inserted in a series of stimuli ... he afterwards spontaneously commented he had a feeling that maybe there was no stimulus present on some trials. But always he was at a loss for words to describe any conscious perception, and repeatedly stressed that he saw nothing at all in the sense of “seeing”, and that he was merely guessing (Weiskrantz et al. 1974, p.721).
Throughout
D.B.’s verbal commentaries there are similar remarks. Although he steadfastly
denies “seeing” in the usual way when presented with visual stimuli, he
frequently describes some kind of concurrent awareness. He talks of things
“popping out a couple of inches” and of “moving waves”, in response to single
point stimuli (Weiskrantz 1986, p.45). He also refers to “kinds of pulsation”
and of “feeling some movement” in response to moving line stimuli (Weiskrantz
1986, p.67).
Consequently, while blindsight subjects clearly do not have normal visual experience in the ‘blind’ regions of their visual fields, this is not to say that they don’t have any phenomenal experience whatsoever associated with stimuli presented in these regions. What is more, it is not unreasonable to suggest that what little experience they do have in this regard explains their residual discriminative abilities. D.B., for example, does not see Xs or Os (in the conventional sense). But in order to perform this task he doesn’t need to. All he requires is some way of discriminating between the two stimulus conditions q some broad phenomenal criterion to distinguish ‘Xness’ from ‘Oness’. And as we’ve seen, he does possess such a criterion: one stimulus condition feels ‘jagged’ while the other feels ‘smooth’. Thus, it is natural to suppose that he is able to perform as well as he does (above chance) because of the (limited) amount of information that is consciously available to him” (O’Brien and Opie (1999)
Unlike O’Brien and Opie, I am not mainly concerned with consciousness. I am content to concede that O&O have a point, and to fall back on the reservation that a formula as simple as PREDICATE(x) cannot be expected to mirror exactly all the processes of such a complex organ as the brain. The stark contrast between the blindsight patient’s experience and his performance is evidence that the brain separates sub- or semi-conscious awareness of the bare presence of an object from the vast array of judgements that can be made by a normal person about the properties of an object. Perhaps training can boost the set of properties which can act as attention-drawing traits. But I would predict that only a tiny subset of properties are natural attention-drawing properties, and that any properties added to this set by practice or training are likely to swing into action significantly more slowly than the primal attention-drawing properties. This prediction conflicts with a prediction of Milner and Goodale’s in their final chapter addressing further research questions prompted by the dorsal/ventral distinction. They write “It is unlikely that the dorsal stream plays the major role in mediating this initial [attention] selection process, since object recognition and ‘semantic’ knowledge may have to be taken into account.” (Milner and Goodale, 1995:202) With due dererence to M&G, I suggest that their implicit premise that all ‘semantic’ recognition takes place in the ventral stream may be too strong, and that a very limited set of primal properties can be accessed by the dorsal stream. I would further claim that access to these primal attention-drawing properties is highly encapsulated, unlike access to properties delivered by the ventral stream. It is an intuition of this difference that gives rise to the logician’s postulate that the fundamental logical structure is an asymmetric relation between two distinct logical types, predicate and argument.
As
an interim summary, the formula PREDICATE(x) is a simplifying schematic
representation of the integration by the brain of two broadly separable
processes. One process is the rapid delivery by the senses (visual and/or auditory)
of information about the egocentric spatial location of a referent object
relative to the body, represented in parietal cortex. The eyes, often the head
and body, and sometimes also the hands, are oriented to the referent object,
which becomes the instantiation of a mental variable. The other process is the
somewhat slower analysis of the delivered referent object by the perceptual
(visual or auditory) recognition subsystems in terms of its properties. The
asymmetric relationship between the predicate and the variable, inherent in the
bracketing of the formula, also holds of the two neural processes:
“From the genetical and functional perspectives the two modes of processing are asymmetrically related: while egocentric evaluation of ‘where’ need not take into account the identity of objects, the perception of ‘what’ usually proceeds through an intermediate stage in which objects are dynamically localized.” (Bridgeman et al. (1994))
There
is an interesting parallel (more than merely coincidental) in the uses of the
term ‘binding’ in logic and neuroscience. The existence of a blue dot can be
represented in FOPL as
x
[BLUE(x) & DOT(x)]. (The ordering of the conjuncts is immaterial.) Here
the existential quantifier is said to ‘bind’ the variable x immediately
after it, and, importantly, all further instances of this variable must fall
within the scope, indicated by brackets, of the quantifier. The variable and
its binding quantifier thus serve to unite the various predicates in the
formula, indicating that they denote properties of the same object.
Logical binding is not a relationship between a predicate and its argument, but
a relationship between all predicates in the scope of a particular quantifier
which take the bound variable as argument. In neuroscience, “Binding is
the problem of representing conjunctions of properties. ... For example, to
visually detect a vertical red line among vertical blue lines and diagonal red
lines, one must visually bind each line’s color to its orientation.” (Hummel,
1999) Detection of properties is generally achieved via the ventral stream. The
dorsal stream directs attention to an object. Once attention is focussed on a
particular object, the ventral stream can deliver a multitude of different
judgements about it, which can be represented logically by a conjunction of
1-place predications. The bare drawing of attention to an object, with no
category judgements (yet) made about it, corresponds to the ‘
x’
part of the logical formula.
Evidently,
the brain does solve the binding problem, although we are not yet certain
exactly how it does it. The claim advanced here for a connection between
predicate-argument structure and the ventral/dorsal separation does not depend
on what, in detail, the brain’s solution to the binding problem turns out to be.