Jack Charteris
“Never let yourself be goaded into taking seriously problems about words and their meanings. What must be taken seriously are questions of fact, and assertions about facts: theories and hypotheses; the problems they solve; and the problems they raise.”
— Karl Popper
Avoiding semantic rabbit-warrens is a way of thwarting the belief brigade which thrives on definition of terms. But definition aversion doesn’t entail that no one involved knows what exactly is being argued or discussed. If you say what you understand by some or other word, I can either communicate using your interpretation or I can decline to engage any further: Either way, squabbling over semantics is pointless because playing word-games never resolves any problem. Given that there’s nothing anyone could say that some smart-aleck (interested more in one-upmanship than honest communication) could not willfully choose to misinterpret, there’s no reason to engage in word-games.
Karl Popper was all for clearly formulated constructs. (For instance, the constructs ‘accuracy’ and ‘precision’ are not necessarily related: ten bullets through the same hole – but all off-target – exhibit high precision but low accuracy, while a scatter near, but not in, the bull’s-eye is fairly accurate but hardly precise.) But clarity doesn’t require disputing meanings endlessly when what’s at issue are real problems requiring resolution, not semantic squabbles that defy resolution. It’s not what a concept is in terms of its supposedly ‘essential’ content that matters; it’s what problems are resolved by using that concept that counts.
Dictionaries catalogue usages, not definitions. If you clearly state at the outset how you use word ‘X’ the onus is on others to accept your usage; or if they refuse, to disengage from conversation under those terms. Popper’s aphorism, “I may be wrong, and you may be right, and by an effort, we may get nearer the truth” signals a desire to interact in problem resolution; not to play unproductive word-games. This implies his willingness in principle to adopt your usage of word ‘X’ and to see whether problem resolution is possible. Of course in practice the option to disengage (if irrational usages are involved) is always available from the outset.
When I’m thinking clearly I never use the word ‘believe’ in the context of my life. Theists are welcome to it as far as I’m concerned because I don’t ‘believe’ in anything: There are other words I can use (for “believe me” there’s “I assure you”; for “I believe” there’s “I understand”, or “I’m told”, or “I think”, or “I hear”, or “I suppose”, depending on context). Likewise I never intentionally use the word ‘faith’ in the context of my life. Theists are welcome to it, because I don’t have faith in anything; least of all in science, which manifestly works: There are other words I can use (like ‘trust’, if rationally placed). My trust in science awaits evidence that doesn’t work: I’m not holding my breath.
You don’t need faith, (or trust) in tomorrow’s sunrise — because nothing you believe, or have faith in, or trust, has any bearing one way or the other on the spinning of this planet. Our opponents rub their hands gleefully as they define atheism as “the arrogant belief that the entire universe was not created with humankind expressly in mind.” Oil and water don’t mix, no matter how one uses words.
Absolutely true that semantics are too often used as rhetorical weapons. But how many real opportunities do we have for debating an issue with fully open minds on both sides? By “open mind”, I mean the willingness to listen carefully to someone arguing from a point of view that you find false, offensive, or dangerous, and being ready to alter your point of view based on something you never truly considered in depth.
On the “belief” front – it is important to realize that this is a technical term in epistemology, which may be intended in some contexts. In this domain, at least, the author does in fact have beliefs. (Assuming a broadly non-eliminativist view in philosophy of mind, anyway.)