What is a Context?

Steven Gross

Abstract In this chapter, I examine a variety of criteria for context individuation,

with an eye towards identifying and distinguishing various theoretical projects in
semantics and pragmatics for which they would be appropriate. The discussion is
organized around six possible desiderata for contexts: (1) that they metaphysically
determine proposition expressed, (2) that they be non-trivial (in a sense explained
in the text), (3) that they provide epistemic illumination of how hearers understand
what proposition was expressed, (4) that they be (in various senses) finite, (5) that
they be non-intentionally characterized, and (6) that they be context-insensitively
characterized. Particular attention is directed to the conceptions of context
developed by Lewis, Stalnaker, and Davidson(ians).

Keywords Context
Semantics
Pragmatics
Lewis
Stalnaker
Davidson

1 Introduction

Language users occasionally utter sentences. In attempting to explain this

behavior, theorists about language often advert to various features of these occa-
sions under the rubric: the context of utterance. What is a context?
Let’s narrow our scope somewhat. Sentences are uttered as parts of various
speech-acts, and features of the occasion may be invoked to explain what deter-
mines which speech-act is performed. Suppose, though, we just assume it given

This paper originally appeared as Chapter II of my 1998 Harvard Ph.D. Dissertation, which was
subsequently published as Gross (1998/2001). Many thanks to Alessandro Capone for the
invitation to reprint it here.

S. Gross (&)
Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, US
e-mail: [email protected]

A. Capone et al. (eds.), Perspectives on Pragmatics and Philosophy, 113

Perspectives in Pragmatics, Philosophy & Psychology 1,
DOI: 10.1007/978-3-319-01011-3_5,
 Springer International Publishing Switzerland 2013
114 S. Gross

that the speech-act in question is assertion. Now, a typical instance of assertion

involves (1) an utterance of a sentence with a certain standing meaning in a
language, in order thereby (2) to express a proposition, and perhaps in addition (3)
to communicate pragmatically some further proposition(s). Features of the occa-
sion of utterance may be invoked in explaining facts at any of these three levels—
the pre-semantic, semantic, and post-semantic, as they might be called.1 But
suppose we focus just on level (2): what determines what proposition is expressed,
given the meaning of the sentence uttered. (It’s clear that natural language sen-
tences are pervasively context-sensitive in this sense: what propositions speakers
express in uttering them is not determined by their meaning alone. ‘The kettle is
black’ can be used to express a variety of propositions, depending for instance on
the kettle in question, the time of utterance, whether the layer of soot matters (the
speakers might be photographers composing a black-and-white still-life, or they
might be kettle collectors wondering whether, beneath its sooty exterior, this is a
rare white 1924 model XYZ), and more.) Our focus thus narrowed, how ought we
to characterize and individuate contexts?
The primary point of this chapter is to argue that this is a bad question—at least
until we specify what we want a notion of context for. Contexts are just (repre-
sentations of) bundles of facts. There’s no sense to inquiring into their proper
individuation conditions without an idea of what questions we hope to answer in
part through adverting to context. Only given an idea of the task to which they will
be put can we debate what information they should encode. We thus can say what
a context is only after clarifying our theoretical aims.
Our preliminary narrowing has already illustrated how context may be invoked
to help explain different aspects of linguistic behavior. In what follows, we shall
see that even after this narrowing there remains room for different notions of
context, corresponding to different questions one might want answered. Since the
proper characterization of context depends on one’s particular explanatory ends,
certain debates about context lose their point: conceptions of context are not in
competition, if they are meant to serve different ends. Showing this is fruitful not
only because it helps clarify—indeed dissolve—certain disputes, but also because,
in forcing a clarification of these varying explanatory ends, it elicits a sharper
delineation of the varying projects aimed at those ends.2
I begin by listing six desiderata one might want an account of context to
satisfy.3 I then turn to three accounts of context (identified with Lewis, Stalnaker,

1
Cf. Kaplan (1989: 575–576). The first level is ‘‘pre-semantic’’ in that what must be explained is
what sentence (with what meaning) has been uttered; that sentence’s semantic properties are only
then put to use at the next level, where propositional content is fixed.
2
I shall assume, or stipulate, that contexts don’t shift across utterances of individual sentences.
(Stanley and Williamson (1995) argue that quantifier domains, and thus contexts, shift in the
utterance of such sentences as ‘Everyone converted someone’ (suppose we’ve been talking about
what the evangelists did upon entering the park). But why not say instead that the context
includes a sequence of domains?)
3
I don’t claim that this list is exhaustive.
What is a Context? 115

and Davidson) to see how they fare. (Assessing the theoretical potential of these
three conceptions of context in particular is thus a secondary aim of this chapter.)
What will be crucial to note is that whether these desiderata ought to be accep-
ted—whether they place legitimate constraints on an account of context—depends
on what work one’s notion of context is supposed to do. Without a clear con-
ception of this, one cannot assess whether a failure to satisfy some desideratum
should count as an objection. We shall see that the three conceptions of context are
addressed to three different theoretical tasks, which require satisfying three dif-
ferent sets of desiderata.

2 Six Desiderata

The first desideratum is the minimal demand that the context, given the meaning of
the sentence, determine or fix the proposition expressed. What was said ought to
supervene on context plus sentence meaning. If this weren’t the case, then one and
the same sentence, with the same meaning, could be uttered in one and the same
context, and yet express a different proposition. But then, presumably, there was
some further factor that in part determined what proposition was in fact expressed.
We should then include this factor—or something that determines it—in the
context. That is, we want contexts to be (if you will) complete with respect to the
task of determining the proposition expressed, given the meaning of the sentence
uttered. I say that this is the minimal demand on contexts, because it simply
amounts to a restatement of the task on which I suggested above we focus our
sights.
Second, we might require that contexts not be trivial. Contexts are trivial if they
are characterized in a way that begs the questions we want to answer. For example,
a trivial way of satisfying the demand for determination is to characterize contexts
in terms of what proposition is expressed. What proposition is expressed will of
course supervene on itself, but what is wanted presumably is some characterization
of propositional determination in independent terms. Perhaps it could be argued
that no such account is forthcoming, at least none meeting other suitable con-
straints. But until such an argument is compellingly made, the explanatory aspi-
ration embodied in the first desideratum will seem reasonable and worthy of
pursuit. Similarly for whatever other explanatory aspirations we might have: if
there is some question we want answered, we will want it answered, if possible, in
a non-trivial manner.
Third, we might require that contexts be characterized in a manner that is
epistemically illuminating. For example, we might require that the features con-
stituting context be among those language users actually track in understanding
one another—or, at least, that they be such that they could in principle enable such
understanding, given our cognitive capacities. This would require both that the
features be epistemically accessible and that their bearing on propositional content,
given sentence-meaning, be apparent (at least upon reflection) to normal speakers
116 S. Gross

of the language. Suppose what proposition is expressed on any given occasion

happens to supervene on some complex microphysiological state of the speaker.
Contexts comprising just this state would satisfy the determination requirement in
an epistemically unilluminating way, since this state would neither be (in general)
epistemically accessible to hearers capable of understanding what is said nor such
that those hearers would or could (in general) grasp its bearing on content (even if
the state were epistemically accessible to them).
Fourth, we might require that contexts be finite, that they comprise a finite
number of features. (If contexts are represented as n-tuples, the requirement would
thus be that n be finite.) This requirement could stem from various sources. For
instance, it might arise as a constraint imposed by the form semantic theorizing
might take. If our task is to articulate all the ways contextual features may affect
propositional content, its completion might require finiteness.4 Or a finiteness
constraint might be motivated by learnability considerations.
Now, it may be noted that finiteness seems all too easy to satisfy: one can
always replace an infinite sequence with a finite one that contains one object—viz.,
the infinite sequence itself. So, we might want rather to require that contexts be
finitely grounded, that they comprise a finite number of features that themselves
comprise a finite number of features, and so on for a finite number of levels. There
are two other relevant refinements perhaps worth mentioning here. One might
want to require that the number of features be not only finite, but also fixed, so that
no change in the set of relevant utterances (e.g., in anticipation of possible changes
in the language) would require the addition of contextual features. Further, one
might require not only that contexts be finite, or finitely grounded, but in addition
that they be manageable—that is, that the list of features be reasonably short.
A finite, but utterly unwieldy list might be practically useless, at least for some
purposes; and its lack of perspicuousness might render the account of which it is a
part unilluminating.5

4
I hedge because I am simplifying. Perhaps we should allow an infinite number of contextual
features so long as they are recursively specifiable—such as: the first demonstrated object, the
second demonstrated object, the third demonstrated object, etc. (Suppose we are considering
sentences of the form ‘I’ll have one of those, and one of those, and one of those,….’)
5
One might also require that each feature admit only a finite number of values. It is arguable, in
fact, that such a limit follows from the requirement of epistemic illumination, given our finite
cognitive capabilities. But, as will emerge below, it is also arguable that we are capable of being
in an infinite number of intentional states at once. Now, if one allows features capable of
countably infinite variation, it’s possible to code an arbitrarily large finite number of features into
a single feature. And continuous variation enables the coding of countably many—indeed,
continuum-many—features into one. But note that such codings will typically not preserve
epistemic illumination, since so characterized the bearing of context on content will be opaque to
normal speakers. (The reduction of features by coding can still be accomplished even if the
variation within a feature is finite: the single feature into which the others are coded will just have
to admit as much variation as the product of the variation the multiple features allow. But again
the point about the failure to preserve epistemic illumination will often apply.)
What is a Context? 117

Fifth, we might require that contexts be characterized in non-intentional terms.

Like the finiteness requirement, this constraint might have a variety of motiva-
tions. For instance, one’s semantic theorizing might be intended to subserve a
broader reductionist project. Intentional characterizations will be precluded if
one’s naturalizing strategy, for example, is to reduce the mental to the linguistic
and then the linguistic to the non-intentional.6 Or the requirement might stem from
a desire to advert only to relatively epistemically uncomplicated contextual fea-
tures—in particular, features not subject to the epistemological holism of the
mental. Finally, at least in the case of certain intentional terms, the constraint may
simply follow from the previously mentioned fear of triviality, as we shall see
below.
The last possible desideratum I will mention is that the characterization of
context be itself context-insensitive. The worry behind this constraint is that a
theory that adverts to context-sensitively characterized contexts will itself be
context-sensitive, so that what the theory itself says will vary across contexts—or,
rather, there won’t be any one theory put forward in these terms. It doesn’t follow
just from this that a context-sensitive characterization of context precludes a
general theory, one that is about utterances and contexts generally. For perhaps
from a distinguished context (the contribution to content of context-sensitive terms
fixed by that context), a theory can be put forth that achieves this generality. But if
so, then it is straightforward to supply context-insensitive replacements—e.g., by
stipulating, as a new technical sense for the terms, that they context-insensitively
contribute to content what the terms in their non-technical sense context-sensi-
tively contribute in the distinguished context. This desideratum, then, requires that
this—or something equivalent—can be done.7

3 Three Conceptions of Context

Let me now introduce three conceptions of context found in the literature.8 The
first is due to David Lewis, the second to Robert Stalnaker. The third—perhaps not
due to any one person in particular—is the notion of context required by what I
consider the best version of (neo-)Davidsonian semantics. The Lewis and

6
Sometimes this strategy permits the reduction of public language to the mental, but then argues
that the mental must be reduced to something with linguistic structure, a ‘‘language of thought.’’
(See, e.g., Field 1978.) The constraint would thus apply only to any contextual features invoked at
that level.
7
Appeals to context are criticized in Hornstein (1984: 144–145) on account of the context-
sensitivity of ‘context.’ Unfortunately, he simply claims that there is such context-sensitivity, and
that semantical theories presuppose that there isn’t, without exploring the conceptions of context
such theories in fact deploy
8
Again, there’s no claim to exhaustiveness here.
118 S. Gross

Stalnaker conceptions of context are easily introduced. Getting the Davidsonian

conception on the table will require a few words about his semantic program.
A context, for Lewis, is an ordered triple: the ‘‘location—time, place, possible
world—where a sentence is said.’’9 According to Stalnaker, a context is a
speaker’s presuppositions, ‘‘the propositions whose truth he takes for granted as
part of the background of the conversation.’’10 Stalnaker favors representing such a
context as the set of possible worlds compatible with what is presupposed; but this
is a further step, independent of the basic conception of context.
On the Davidsonian conception, a context comprises the features adverted to by
a truth-theory that assigns truth-conditions for the sentences of a given language.11
These truth-conditions are captured by ‘‘T-sentences’’ derivable within the theory.
For context-sensitive sentences, which possess variable truth-conditions, such
T-sentences take the following ‘‘normal form’’12:
(u)(x)(y)… (z)[If uR(S, x, y,…, z), then {u is true iff F(x, y,…, z)}].

(In something closer to English: For any utterance of a sentence S and any con-
textual features x, y,…, and z, if those features obtain on the occasion of utterance
(and meet whatever other relevant constraints there might be), the utterance is true
if and only if x, y,…, and z satisfy F.) The features constituting a context would be
the values of variables x, y,…, and z. For example, consider the context-sensitivity
arising from the variable reference of ‘it’ in ‘It’s green’ (ignore other sources of
context-sensitivity). Its T-sentence would be:
(u)(x)If u is an utterance of ‘It’s green’ in which ‘it’ refers to x, then (u is true iff x is
green).

The T-sentence requires that contexts be at least individuated according to what

object is referred to by ‘it’ on that occasion. The T-theory as a whole commits one
to individuating contexts according to whatever features are thus adverted to
within it.13
How well do these three conceptions of context fare in satisfying the various
desiderata listed above?14

9
Lewis (1980: 79). As we will see, Lewis advocated a different conception of context in earlier
work. Lewis’ later notion of context should not be confused with what he calls an index, which
basically provides a circumstance of evaluation.
10
Stalnaker (1978: 84).
11
See, e.g., Davidson (1967).
12
Such conditionalized T-sentences are found in Burge (1974). I follow Higginbotham (1988) in
speaking of normal forms here. Context-sensitivity and truth-theoretic accounts of semantic
competence are further discussed in Gross (1998/2001: Chap. III)
13
We needn’t say that, since different features may appear in the T-sentences for different
sentences, these sentences require different conceptions of context; for we may conglomerate
these features into one conception of context and consider some of them suppressed for
simplicity’s sake when they are irrelevant.
14
Begging the reader’s indulgence, I won’t discuss the six desiderata in the order presented
above, but will rather let expository convenience determine the order in each case.
What is a Context? 119

(a) Lewis
Lewis’ conception of context as location clearly satisfies desiderata 1, 2, 4, and
5. What proposition is expressed certainly supervenes on the utterance’s having
occurred at that place, time, and world15; these three features are clearly non-
trivial—at least so far as content-determination goes—in that they don’t invoke
what requires explanation; they are finite in number, finitely grounded, presumably
fixed, and, being only three, manageable; and they are obviously non-intentional.
Whether desideratum 6 is satisfied—whether such contexts can be context-
insensitively characterized—is, however, not so obvious. There are two issues
here. First, specifications of place and time are context-sensitive as to their rele-
vant extent: how extensive are the place and time that in part constitute the
speaker’s location? I won’t dwell on this, however; perhaps a reasonable stipu-
lation will settle the matter. Second, it is unclear whether we can context-insen-
sitively refer to an arbitrary world. Location in space–time does not pose this
problem, since we may avail ourselves of a coordinate system (dubbed with a
name—once an origin, orientation, and unit magnitude are stipulated16). But
context-insensitively picking out a location in the space of possible worlds is not
so easy. We may provide our world the context-insensitive name ‘@,’ and like-
wise take care of some others we have first context-sensitively picked out. But we
seem to lack the means to refer context-insensitively to an arbitrary world.17
But is this a problem? Lewis has, after all, context-insensitively characterized what
contexts are (supposing the first concern addressed): they are places, times, and
worlds.18 This suffices to individuate contexts, even if we lack the means context-
insensitively to refer to arbitrary contexts. This second problem, then, is really only a
problem if there is some reason Lewis need be committed to our having such an ability.
We thus see that there is a distinction to be drawn between context-insensitively
characterizing what contexts are and context-insensitively characterizing (arbitrary)
particular contexts in a manner sufficient to single them out. Identifying what suffices to
determine propositional content (given sentence-meaning) requires only the first. Even
if your aspirations include articulating a theory that enables the context-insensitive
specification, for an arbitrary utterance in a context, of the proposition it would express,
this in fact would suffice. Articulating the theory doesn’t require the ability to refer
context-insensitively to arbitrary contexts: it doesn’t even require the ability to refer to
arbitrary contexts simpliciter (whether context-sensitively, or context-insensitively).

15
Indeed, what sentence is uttered with what meaning supervenes on the utterance’s Lewisian
location as well!
16
Of course, there would be no bar to employing context-sensitive terms in thus fixing the
name’s referent.
17
There are more worlds than we could name, in any case.
18
There are indeed questions about how worlds are individuated. (Lewis himself takes up the
matter in his (Lewis 1986: 69–81).) But, arguably, providing an answer in this case—unlike in the
case of a place and a time’s extent—requires not a stipulation as to the use of a context-sensitive
term, but rather a clarification of the individuation criteria with which a context-insensitive
expression—viz., ‘possible world’—is associated.
120 S. Gross

However, if you lack this ability, you’ll only be in a position to apply the theory to
utterances entered in contexts to which you could refer.
The failure of Lewis’ conception of context to satisfy desideratum 3—the
requirement that contexts be epistemically illuminating—is more obvious. Lewisian
location is certainly knowable (minimally, we can demonstratively identify our
current spatial, temporal, and modal whereabouts). But from the fact that P super-
venes on Q, it doesn’t follow that finite agents, who as it happens can recognize that
Q, can thereby learn that P. And indeed knowledge of these features, combined with
knowledge of what sentence was uttered with what meaning, does not in general
enable normal competent speakers to recover propositional content. Knowing that ‘I
love you,’ for instance, was uttered in our world at precisely noon on January 12,
1879 in room 17 of the Dakota off Central Park obviously does not enable me to know
what proposition was expressed.19 Lewis’ conception of context, though it may help
answer questions requiring only the determination of propositional content, seems
ill-suited to addressing how speakers succeed in understanding what is said.20
But is this a criticism of Lewis? Not if addressing how speakers succeed in
understanding what is said just isn’t his aim—or at least not his aim in advancing this
conception of context. So what is his aim? Lewis tells us that his advancing this
conception of context subserves his attempt to provide ‘‘part of a systematic restate-
ment of our common knowledge about our practices of linguistic communication […
that] assign[s] semantic values that determine which sentences are true in which
contexts.’’21 Providing that part that covers our understanding of what others say is
simply not the task he sets himself here. Indeed, in other work, he seems to hold that at
least part of this task requires something like Stalnaker’s conception of context.22
(b) Stalnaker
Let’s turn then to Stalnaker’s conception of context as the set of propositions
the speaker presupposes to be mutual among participants in the conversation. The
first point to note is that for Stalnakerian contexts generally to satisfy desideratum
1—for them to determine propositional content, given sentence-meaning—it is
arguable that an assumption of normality must be made. A context is normal—or,
as Stalnaker puts it, ‘‘non-defective’’—when the speaker’s presuppositions are in
fact the same as her audience’s.23 When the context is defective, it can be that it is
rather the hearer’s presupposition set that determines the proposition expressed—
at least this is a defensible position in some cases.24 The most likely such cases are

19
That it might conceivably suffice for some super-intelligent being with extraordinary powers
is neither here nor there.
20
Thus Stalnaker (1998: 15), referring to Montague (1968) and Lewis (1970, 1980), comments
that ‘‘nothing was explicitly said in the theory about the epistemic status of such a context.’’
21
Lewis (1980: 79) (emphasis added).
22
See Lewis (1979).
23
Stalnaker (1978: 85).
24
But only in some cases. The point is not that the hearer’s presuppositions are what matter in
all defective contexts. This is the point of the qualifier ‘generally’ above.
What is a Context? 121

ones in which the hearer’s presuppositions are very reasonable, but some of the
speaker’s are not. For instance, if Tommy and Suzy are playing with Suzy’s mar-
bles, and Tommy declares ‘‘All the red ones are mine,’’ it is unclear that the fact that
he has in mind rather the marbles he left at home should suffice to render them the
domain of discourse relevant to the assessment of the proposition expressed (per-
haps as opposed to the proposition he meant).25 It is unreasonable of Tommy to
expect Suzy to share the relevant background beliefs in this case; Suzy’s most likely
assumption—that he is falsely claiming ownership of the perceptually salient red
marbles, the ones before them that they’ve been playing with for the past hour—is
much more reasonable. Perhaps one should conclude in such cases rather that it is in
some sense indeterminate what proposition was expressed.26 Then there would be
no objection to maintaining that Stalnakerian context determines propositional
content (given sentence-meaning), since cases in which there’s no (determinate)
proposition expressed at all would just be irrelevant to the claim. But if one is
willing to allow that propositional content can in some cases be determined by what
the hearer presupposes, then the claim holds only if normality is assumed.27
To satisfy the second constraint—that the context be non-trivial—the speaker’s
presuppositions must not include the proposition that she is asserting that P, since
among what wants explaining is that (the hearer can grasp that) this is the case.
Of course, the speaker believes that this is what she is doing, but normally she
can’t expect the hearer to believe this prior to his grasping what the speaker
says.28 Once the assertion is made, it can indeed be reasonably expected that the
speaker’s having asserted that P will be mutually presupposed. This will typically
be among the effects on context the speaker intends her speech act to have. But this
just means that the speaker’s having asserted that P will be conversationally
available as background for further assertions. There seems no reason, then, to
doubt the non-triviality of Stalnakerian contexts.

25
I borrow the example from Gauker (1997).
26
Gauker (1997: 28–29) argues against this possibility, claiming that if the utterance expresses
no determinate proposition, then the process by which they can clear up their confusion, which
seems to take the would-be claim as its basis, is rendered unintelligible. This argument, however,
is unconvincing. There’s plenty of content around for the process to utilize, even if the utterance
itself fails to express a proposition—e.g., the content of the intentions with which he spoke and of
the beliefs he had about what was presupposed.
27
Alternatively, one might hold that what determines propositional content (given sentence-
meaning) is the set of reasonable presuppositions. In normal contexts, this just will be the
speaker’s presuppositions.
28
There are indeed cases in which the hearer may also (correctly) believe that the speaker will
assert, and then is asserting, that P—she might know her conversational partner all too well. But
then her excellent prediction will call for some other explanation. What’s more, from the fact that
the speaker and hearer both believe something, it doesn’t follow that they presuppose it to be
mutual. Agreement in belief does not yet amount to common knowledge. There indeed can be
cases in which there is common knowledge that the speaker is expressing the proposition that P
(e.g., in some cases of expressing gratitude or anger, or in prayer), but I would consider these, not
cases of assertion proper, but of acknowledgment. Cf. Matthews (1980).
122 S. Gross

Now, in adverting to a speaker’s presuppositions, one obviously violates the

non-intentionality constraint—or, rather, what follows is that this conception of
context is not suited for projects that motivate this desideratum. This is not to say that
Stalnakerian contexts can’t be deployed by someone with naturalistic ambitions, but
only that one’s strategy must be of the appropriate sort: Stalnaker himself advocates
an approach that would explain linguistic intentionality in terms of mental inten-
tionality, and then the latter in terms of a broadly speaking causal story.29 This
involvement with the mental, however, may well limit the epistemic illumination
forthcoming from an approach that utilizes such contexts. Before examining this, it
will be useful to discuss desideratum 4—the finiteness constraint.
Stalnakerian contexts are trivially finite; for they comprise a single feature—viz.,
what the speaker presupposes. Here is a case where it’s more interesting to ask
instead whether the context is finitely grounded. The proper answer to this question is
clouded by questions concerning the proper analyses of tacit belief and common
knowledge.30 I certainly act as if I believe that I am under 10 ft tall. Do I tacitly
believe it? What about my being under 11, 12 ft tall, etc.? If I do tacitly believe all
these things, don’t I also tacitly believe that you believe them, and that you believe
that I believe them? So, aren’t they among my presuppositions? If so, then presup-
position sets need not be finitely grounded. And even if I don’t have all those tacit
beliefs (nor all those presuppositions) about my height, consider some arbitrary P that
I do presuppose on some occasion of utterance—for instance, that I am speaking.
Well, if it’s a presupposition, then you presuppose it also. And that we both pre-
suppose it will also be included among what we take for granted. So, we’ll each
presuppose that we each presuppose it, etc. The mutuality built into presupposition
can seem to ensure an indefinite iteration of presuppositions. So, if this proves
correct, we must again conclude that presupposition sets are not finitely grounded.
These brief remarks are intended merely to mark the issue, not to convince.31 At
the very least, however, it would seem that the number of propositions in a

29
See Stalnaker (1984: chap. I).
30
The literature is large, but see, e.g., Lycan (1986) on tacit belief, and Smith (1982) on
common knowledge.
31
Perhaps I believe that, for all n [ 10, I am under n feet tall. But do I believe each instance?
Note that there are finite numbers so large that there exist no numerals referring to them in any
physically realizable numeration scheme. (Suppose x is such a number. You might think you
could refer to x exploiting a base x numeration scheme, according to which ‘10’ names x. But the
world is ex hypothesi is ‘‘too small’’ to contain tokens of all the distinct types needed to name the
numbers between 0 and x. So such a scheme couldn’t be introduced.) It would likewise seem that
I am only capable of grasping so many iterations of presupposition. But, on the other hand,
perhaps tacit belief (and presupposition) doesn’t require that I be capable of occurrently
entertaining those thoughts (or that they satisfy the constraints imposed by being represented in a
Language of Thought). Two further questions. Does mutuality really ensure—or require—an
indefinite iteration of presuppositions? And, even if one concedes for the reasons advanced in the
text that Stalnakerian contexts are not finitely grounded, should this infinity be thought truly
bothersome, given that both examples involve recursively characterizable totalities? (Cf. my
comment above on multiple demonstrations.)
What is a Context? 123

presupposition set could be enormously large.32 Does this threaten unmanageability?

That depends on what work the theory employing this notion of context is supposed
to do. Let’s return to the question of epistemic illumination to see one way this worry
could be pressed.
Stalnakerian contexts certainly satisfy the conditions necessary for being epi-
stemically illuminating. It is obvious that the attitudes adverted to are epistemi-
cally accessible, and that their bearing on propositional content is apparent to
actual speakers. If explaining our ability to understand one another is among our
goals, it is clear that presupposition sets to this extent fit the bill in a way that
Lewisian locations can’t. But why might this conception of context limit the
epistemic illumination approaches employing it may provide? Well, suppose we
wanted some sense of how hearers, on the basis of their knowledge of sentence-
meaning and context, (could reasonably) form a belief as to the proposition
expressed. A standard thought is to try to articulate rules that could take one from
sentence-meaning and context to propositions.33 But now the worry is that too
much has been included in our contexts to make this feasible. Sure, not all the
speaker’s attitudes are there—but still the presupposition set can seem to comprise
such a large, unwieldy, holistically intertwined body of information as to render
the task intractable. ‘‘He’s crazy,’’ my conversational partner says. Among the
presuppositions of the context are that we have been talking about her husband,
that her child is visually salient, that her husband is visually salient, that she is
pointing at her child, that a dog just barked, that she is gesturing vaguely with her
head over her shoulder, etc. What rule will take me from this mess of facts (and
many more) to the conclusion—obvious to anyone minimally competent and
present—that, in uttering ‘He’s crazy,’ she referred to her dog (who, by barking,
had interrupted her story about her equally crazy husband) while she simulta-
neously indicated to her husband, by pointing to her child, that he should keep an
eye on the baby? Now, merely pointing out the complexity of our cognitive
abilities in this fashion of course does not constitute an argument that such rules
could not be articulated. But it at least serves to indicate that constructing such a

32
One might try to keep the numbers down by considering only the presuppositions relevant to
understanding the particular assertion in question. But this threatens to run one afoul of the
triviality constraint, if there exists no way of identifying which presuppositions are relevant
without adverting to the proposition expressed. And if there does exist some way, then it would
seem explanatorily preferable to construct a notion of context on that basis.
33
I speak of rules, instead of functions, because we might want more than functions in the set-
theoretic sense—i.e., sets of n-tuples. This need not be simply because, as theorists engaged in
explanatory projects, we seek illumination, not just correlation, and thus prefer correlations that
somehow pattern the data. The motivation might be rather, or further, that language use—the
explanandum in question—is conscious rational activity, one that requires those who engage in it
to address reasonable demands for justification. We might thus require that our representations of
the relation between input and output ‘‘organize’’ the chart in a manner that articulates how actual
speakers grasp this relation. Part of what theorists want here to comprehend, after all, is how
speakers comprehend each other.—As perhaps goes without saying, however, I’m broaching
issues that can’t be adequately addressed in a brief note.
124 S. Gross

theory would require something approaching a complete theory of rational

psychology. We needn’t place bets here on that project. Suffice it to say that if
attempts to codify ‘‘general intelligence’’ are subject to in principle limits, then it
seems that semantic projects that utilize Stalnakerian contexts could be as well.
Semantics pursued in this fashion would then be as hard as pragmatics.
Of course, the proper response might be that this constitutes no objection to
Stalnakerian contexts. It merely provides a reason not to employ such contexts in
that explanatory project.34—Assuming, that is, that such a project can be carried
out at all: there’s even less reason to object if it can’t. If it can, however, or if we at
least possess no grounds at present for thinking it can’t, then what conception of
context ought one employ? A possible moral to draw from our examination of
Lewisian contexts is that there’s no avoiding intentionally characterized contextual
features if one aims at the sort of epistemic illumination described above. But now
we see that a profligate adversion to mental states threatens intractability. The
Davidsonian conception can be viewed as an attempt to find a middle ground
suitable to the project of articulating semantic rules. It adverts to intentionally
characterized contextual features, but attempts to let in only those directly relevant
to the calculation of propositional content. What features of context must be
tracked in order to calculate the semantically relevant contextual features them-
selves is a question, according to this view, that semanticists needn’t address.35
The larger questions of rational psychology can thus be left to one side, if this
approach is correct. Before turning to this conception of context, however, it
remains briefly to remark upon the context-sensitivity of Stalnakerian contexts.
Again, we must distinguish the question of context-insensitively characterizing
what contexts are from that of context-insensitively characterizing particular
contexts. Regarding the former, there is, first, the vagueness, and consequent
context-sensitivity, of ‘presupposes;’ and, second, the arguably context-sensitive
individuation conditions for propositions, the objects of the speakers’ presuppo-
sitions—i.e., the context-sensitivity of ‘same proposition as.’ Regarding the latter,
there is further the question of whether the contents of others’ attitudes can even in
principle be context-insensitively characterized. Many accounts of attitude
ascription posit context-sensitivity of one sort or another that could not be easily
removed.36 In addition, it is arguable that there are some essentially indexical

34
I should note explicitly that this is not the project Stalnaker himself intends his conception of
context to subserve. Stalnaker’s discussions of the role of context in language use typically
attempt:

to describe the structure of discourse in a way that abstracts away from the details about
the mechanisms and devices that particular languages may provide for doing what is done
in discourse… to get clear about what language is for—what it is supposed to do.
(Stalnaker 1998: 4).
35
It is possible that Stalnaker (1984: 40) loses track of this point.
36
See Richard (1997) for a survey.
What is a Context? 125

contents expressible only using context-sensitive means.37 In any case, as we have

seen, the violation of finite groundability (or at least manageability) would seem to
leave us unable in at least some cases to characterize exhaustively a Stalnakerian
context, whether context-insensitively or not.
(c) Davidson(ians)
The Davidsonian conception of context, recall, is that required by a truth-theory
for a language: it comprises the parameters to which the theory must advert in
specifying the variable truth-conditions of context-sensitive sentences. The
determination and epistemic illumination constraints—desiderata 1 and 3,
respectively—will clearly be satisfied if such a theory can be constructed. First,
given such a theory, we may take the relevant T-sentence to provide—or at least to
be determined by—the uttered sentence’s meaning. Then, if one plugs in the
relevant contextual features, the biconditional’s right-hand side will yield what
was said.38 Second, a successful theory will advert to epistemically accessible
contextual features whose bearing on propositional content is explicitly exhibited
in the T-sentence, which would thus seem better to fit the above ideal of a
semantical rule. Whether such a theory can indeed be constructed for an actual
human language is, however, a large question. We’ll touch on some possible
problems below, and elsewhere I discuss some more.39
Now, as is apparent from my earlier example, Davidsonian contexts may
include intentionally characterized features: recall the feature what the speaker
referred to in uttering ‘it’ invoked in providing a T-sentence for ‘It’s green.’40
(So, again, this conception of context is not available if one is pursuing certain
reductionist strategies.) Two worries might arise here. First, it may be worried that
the threat of triviality looms. While there’s no reason to think that the contextual
features adverted to will include what proposition is expressed, we see that other
arguably semantic phenomena will be invoked, as reference just was in our
example. The worry, note, doesn’t so much concern the invocation of intention-
ality per se, as the invocation of a certain sort of intentionality, specifically a kind

37
See Perry (1979) for discussion.
38
I pass over such complications as the Foster Problem. See Foster (1976).
39
See Gross (1998/2001: Chaps. III and IV).
40
The claim that Davidsonian semantics can’t invoke intentionally characterized contextual
features crops us in one form or another surprisingly often. (See, e.g., Stalnaker 1984: 40).
Sometimes the motivation seems to be one of those that will be discussed in the text: naturalistic
restrictions, a fear of triviality, or a fear of epistemic entanglement in the holism of the mental.
But other times, the motivation is much more inchoate. It’s worth noting, however, that no one
questions the appropriateness of who the speaker is as a contextual feature (how else can one
specify truth-conditions for sentences containing the first-person pronoun?)—and yet it’s
obviously intentionally characterized (parrots, message machines, and perhaps foreign-language
interpreters qua interpreters are not speaking in the relevant sense—they lack the proper
intentions). Well, perhaps it’s not always obvious what’s obvious (at least, until it’s pointed out
that it is) if even Stalnaker (1984: 40) can list who the speaker is as a paradigm example of a non-
intentionally characterized contextual feature.
126 S. Gross

of linguistic phenomenon. Once again, the proper response is to clarify what

questions Davidsonian context is supposed to help answer. It is certainly
interesting to ask, for instance, what determines a speaker’s reference on a
particular occasion of utterance of a context-sensitive referring expression (and
what enables hearers to grasp the reference). But that the Davidsonian approach
doesn’t answer that question won’t constitute an objection if it doesn’t aspire
to answering it. Of course, there would be room for objecting if it begs off
answering too many questions (or doesn’t take on enough), or if it separates
questions that seem to go together explanatorily. But this doesn’t seem to be
the case. In fact, the Davidsonian approach effects a natural division between
our standing knowledge of language and the occasional knowledge we must in
addition bring to bear in order to understand particular utterances. The truth-
theory aims only to capture the former (which does, however, involve speci-
fying what role one’s occasional knowledge—whatever it is—plays on partic-
ular occasions). Tackling the latter can then be reasonably left for pragmatics to
handle, to the extent that it can.
This division of labor also provides an answer to the second worry. Above I
said that Davidsonian context can be understood as aiming for a middle ground
between the non-intentional Lewisian locations and the profligately intentional
Stalnakerian presupposition sets. The second worry, then, is whether such a
middle ground can in fact be found—whether, in particular, Davidsonian
contexts can avoid entanglement in the holism of the mental. Now we see how
this indeed is possible. For Davidsonian contexts need advert only to those
intentionally characterized features that need be directly plugged into the the-
ory’s variables. Their values, in other words, can be simply taken as given, as
far as the truth-theory is concerned: what fixes those values in the first place
becomes irrelevant.
Although not all of the speaker’s presuppositions need be invoked on this
conception of context, still there might remain the worry that the number of
intentionally—and indeed non-intentionally—characterized contextual features
required might prove quite large. Let’s turn, then, to desideratum 4—the finiteness
constraint.
I begin by recalling some well-known pre-history. Lewis, in his early paper
‘‘General Semantics,’’41 specified eight contextual features (‘‘a list,’’ he later
noted, ‘‘that was long for its day’’42) and, wondering whether more were needed,
discussed others one might add.43 Cresswell replied to the ‘‘agonies of con-
science’’ he saw Lewis enduring ‘‘in trying to decide whether [he had] taken
account of enough,’’ by suggesting, with the support of one example, that ‘‘it is
impossible to lay down in advance what sort of thing is going to count as a context

41
Lewis (1970: 195).
42
Lewis (1980: 87).
43
Lewis (1970: Appendix).
What is a Context? 127

of use… there is no way of specifying a finite list of contextual coordinates.’’44

Lewis accepted the point:
Contexts have countless features… the dependence of truth on context [is] surprisingly
multifarious… Cresswell rightly complained… [there are] indefinitely many features of
context.45

And it is not uncommon for those who agree simply to refer back to this
exchange.46
But not everyone did agree. Lycan, for example, replied:
If English speakers and hearers in fact have all the context-interpretive skills requisite to
negotiating all the discoverable factors, then (however many and various these factors may
be) there is some definite [sc. finite] number of them, even if as theorists we cannot say in
advance what this number is. Therefore, we can be confident that the addition of members
to our ‘‘indices’’ would come to an end at some point….47

And perhaps Lewis conceded this point as well in writing that ‘‘[w]e could wait for
the end of linguistic inquiry, and define our indices then’’—though he added that
‘‘the less patient of us may prefer another solution [viz., adverting to his loca-
tions].’’48—Here ends my historical narrative.

44
Cresswell (1972: 8). The example is:

I have no pain, dear mother now,

But Oh! I am so dry;
Just fetch your Jim another quart
To wet the other eye. [Anon.]

which, he says, requires at least coordinates for the speaker, the time, and the type of previous
drink.
45
Lewis (1980: 87).
46
This is then sometimes taken to show why we need to give up so-called indexical approaches
to context and replace them with, e.g., presupposition sets. But note that Stalnaker’s conception
of context can itself be construed as an example of the indexical approach: for presupposition sets
may be viewed as just contexts that have one index (viz., what the speaker presupposes). The
question, that is, is not one of whether to have indices, but of what those indices should be. Note
that Lewis’ original approach includes presuppositions as an index. So, when one adds to a
Stalnakerian context further elements—to track, say, reference across a discourse, etc. (yielding
what is called a discourse structure)—you get something that again looks very much like those
bad ol’ index kind of contexts!
47
Lycan (1984: 51).
48
Lewis (1983: 230). (Though I suggest that this remark may be read as providing a possible
response to Lycan, Lycan is not actually mentioned in this passage. —The Lewis remark was also
published a year before Lycan’s, though this of course does not entail that the one was written
before the other.)
128 S. Gross

Now, while I won’t go so far as to defend Lycan’s argument,49 I do want to

defend his conclusion—or at least to suggest that no good argument has been given
against it. The first point to note is just an application of the point I stressed above.
Many have been overly impressed by the multifariousness of contextual features
on which—to use Lewis’ language—‘‘truth sometimes depends,’’50 features that
are ‘‘relevant’’ to the determination of extension.51 But this language is a bit
unclear. Yes, just about anything could be relevant—if what is meant, for instance,
is that it could play some causal or evidentiary role either in the determination of
content or in a hearer’s coming to grasp what was said. But it doesn’t follow that
an interesting semantic theory must account for all aspects of these processes. All
the Davidsonian need do is isolate those features of context that provide the truth-
theory the contextual information it needs—again, however these features are
themselves in turn determined. The semanticist, that is, needs to identify those
features of context that, as it were, sum up the rest of the contextual situation in a
manner sufficient to yield truth-conditions, given the semantic rules embodied in
the truth-theory. In sum, from the infinity of possibly ‘‘relevant’’ contextual fea-
tures, it doesn’t follow that Davidsonian contexts must be infinite.
Still, one may attempt to argue, by appeal to cases, that even Davidsonian
contexts must advert to an infinite number of features. But note that if a language’s
lexicon and syntax is finite, then the infinity would have to arise already from a
single term or rule.52 Is there reason to think the axiom for any single lexical item,
for instance, would require an infinity of contextual features? Predications of
‘green’ might be contextually sensitive to the relevant part of the subject of
predication, the color’s etiology, facts about the viewing conditions, etc.53 But
could this list go on forever? Some argument would be needed to give us reason
for thinking so. There is much complexity, to be sure (surprisingly, perhaps—
though in retrospect maybe this is what we should have expected), but from
complexity doesn’t follow infinity. It is sometimes suggested, however, that there
is an open-endedness to our language use, in that as new situations arise, so will
new ways of deploying our existing words: mountains are high, but so are tones—
and there’s no end of fields to which the high/low contrast could come to be

49
The movement from our being able to negotiate these features to there being a finite number
of them may seem a non sequitur, but perhaps it’s instead enthymematic, tacitly presupposing
elements of the ‘‘metatheory’’ Lycan earlier (1984: 13–18) lays out. This threatens, however, to
render the argument question-begging.
50
Lewis (1980: 79).
51
Lewis (1983: 230).
52
I ignore the results of indefinitely iterating the same source of context-sensitivity. Sure, in
theory you could, in a single sentence, keep on referring to items via the demonstrative ‘that’ as
long as you liked. But this could be reasonably represented as a sequence, and thus as a single
contextual feature. This sort of infinite grounding seems harmless, since it could be recursively
characterized. (And, in any case, in practice you couldn’t keep on demonstrating as long as you’d
like.)
53
Cf. Gross (1998/2001: Chap. I) and the work cited therein by Travis (1981) and Szabó (1995).
What is a Context? 129

applied. Similarly, there may be no end to the kinds of contextual feature that
could become relevant to assessing predications of ‘green.’54 The proper response
to this, however, is that semantics (or at least this chapter of it) need only be in the
business of describing how our language is now. It needn’t as well account for all
the ways it might expand over time.55 The worry might remain that, although the
number of contextual features admitted on the Davidsonian conception has not
been shown to be infinite, it has been shown to be quite large—and therefore
perhaps unmanageable. But here the Davidsonian may reasonably shift the burden
back: if this is to become a full-fledged objection, the demand for manageability
must both be clarified and motivated. After all, as mentioned, at this late date we
perhaps should not be surprised by the complexity of our linguistic competence.
I turn, finally, to desideratum 6—that contexts be context-insensitively char-
acterized. If among the posited contextual features are propositional attitudes, then
context-insensitively characterizing particular contexts will face the same obsta-
cles encountered by Stalnakerian presupposition sets. In addition, the values of
many non-intentional features would seem to resist context-insensitive charac-
terization. Consider the sentence ‘That style of play is risky.’ A relevant contextual
feature would seem to be the contextually relevant style of play. But unlike with
times and places, we seem to lack a general context-insensitive way to identify
arbitrary styles of play. Though we may be able to draw attention to aspects of the
particular style, we may lack the resources to single it out in any way other than
demonstratively.56 And so we wouldn’t be able to context-insensitively refer to an
arbitrary context. But perhaps this needn’t bother us, so long as we can context-
insensitively refer to those contexts to which we have some reason to refer. And, in
any case, for all that’s been said, perhaps we might have no reason not to allow
ourselves to refer to contexts using context-sensitive terms.
More interesting is the question whether we can characterize what contexts are
context-insensitively. For if we can’t, then we are blocked from context-insensi-
tively stating the truth-conditions of the sentences of our target language. The
T-sentences for context-sensitive sentences, recall, have the following form:
(u)(x)(y)…(z)[If uR(S, x, y,…, z), then {u is true iff F(x, y,…, z)}].

54
See Ross (1981), whose discussion of many interesting examples is marred inter alia by a
failure to mark various of the distinctions described above.
55
This might require a more fine-grained individuation of languages than is normal in everyday
speech. But that needn’t affect the theory’s explanatory interest. Note, by the way, that in the text
I speak of ways a language (in the coarse-grained sense) might change over time. This is because
actual language change is of course finite.
56
For any given case, we may introduce a context-insensitive name—perhaps, ‘Kasparov’s
style.’ But if there are many styles, we may be unable to introduce enough names to cover them
all. We also could refer to the style via the context-insensitive description ‘the style displayed at
such-and-such time at such-and-such location.’ (Let’s not worry about specifying the world.) But
this description doesn’t present the style in a way that enables an arbitrary speaker to grasp what
style it is. (Cf. the remarks at the close of Gross (1998/2001: Chap. I) on ineliminability and
content individuation.)
130 S. Gross

For example, the T-sentence capturing the variable reference of ‘it’ in ‘It’s green’
would be:
(u)(x)If u is an utterance of ‘It’s green’ in which ‘it’ refers to x, then (u is true iff x is green).

The T-sentence thus adverts to the contextual feature what ‘it’ refers to. If this
contextual feature is itself context-sensitively characterized, then the T-sentence as
a whole will be as well. But if the T-sentence is context-sensitive, it does not—
considered independently of any particular context of utterance—express a
proposition at all; and so, in particular, it doesn’t specify the sentence’s truth-
conditions. The Davidsonian semanticist must therefore either allow that the
content of the truth-theory itself can vary across contexts of utterance, or she must
ensure that she uses only context-insensitive terms in characterizing what the
relevant contextual features are. If ‘refers’—or any other expression used to
characterize a contextual feature—is subject itself to context-sensitivity (even if
only through being subject to vagueness), then taking the latter tack will require
stipulating this context-sensitivity away. Note that this requires that the individ-
uation conditions of the objects quantified over be fixed as well.57

4 Conclusion

This completes my examination of these three conceptions of context. We have

seen that each satisfies some of the six desiderata, while violating others. And in
each case, we have seen as well how these violations needn’t constitute an
objection, so long as one is clear about what projects each conception may and
may not be suited to subserve. Not clearly delineating these projects leads only to
confusion. It is my hope that this examination not only helps sort out what is—or
ought to be—at issue in discussions of context, but also sheds some light on the
nature of these varying projects themselves.
I close by addressing one reason why some of the issues I have tried to separate are
sometimes lumped together—viz., a not unreasonable desire to treat language and
linguistic phenomena uniformly. It would seem a laudable goal to seek an explan-
atory framework that could accommodate all of the projects we have discussed. The
desire for such motivates searching for a single conception of context suitable for all
our linguistic needs. I have not argued that there could not be such a thing—beyond,
that is, gesturing towards the possible intractability of certain areas.58 But note that

57
This amounts to removing whatever context-sensitivity there may be in the ‘what’ of, for
instance, ‘what ‘it’ refers to.’
58
Note that this is just as much a worry at the pre-semantic as at the post-semantic (or,
pragmatic) level. This is in part because judgments at one level can affect the other. We may
reject a disambiguation, for instance, on account of the untoward pragmatic implications this
would force. Indeed, all three levels—the pre-semantic, semantic, and postsemantic—are
holistically intertwined epistemologically speaking.
What is a Context? 131

even if there were a single conception of context suitable in principle for all projects
aimed at explaining linguistic behavior, it would not follow that adverting to such
contexts would yield the most perspicuous explanation no matter the issue. For
example, employing Stalnakerian contexts, and the highly complex rules they would
require, would certainly shed less light on specifically what we know in knowing a
particular language than would the use of Davidsonian contexts. (I’m supposing here
that both approaches could pan out in principle, and that Stalnaker’s would thus be
suitable to a greater range of questions than the Davidsonian’s.) Various specifically
semantic facts, explicitly highlighted on the Davidsonian approach, would get lost in
the complex semantic/pragmatic brew the Stalnakerian approach would yield.
We would thus still have use for more than one conception of context.59

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