G. E.

MOORE ON —
WHY WE S HOULD FEEL CERTAIN ABOUT THE EXISTENCE OF AN EXTERNAL WORLD

G.E. Moore’s “A Defence of Common Sense” and “Proof of an External World,” taken

together, develop interesting ways to talk about proof, argument, certainty and knowledge.

Moore develops a new kind of “talk” through his deliberate use of a common-sense vocabulary,

through the ways in which he strings together that vocabulary, and the way the words appear

printed on the page (that is, the font style.)

What my paper takes to be its central question is “What features of Moore’s arguments

make his proof of an external world both interesting and significant?” Implied in my response to

this central question is a defense against Moore’s critics, some of whom claim that his proof is

trivial, or that his papers are poorly argued. From the beginning, I assume Moore’s papers to be

writings worth taking seriously. My arguments will establish good reason to take them seriously

in that what emerge from his papers are interestingly distinct understandings of the ways in

which we use such terms as proof, certainty, argument and knowledge.

The distinctions between proof, certainty, argument and knowledge carry throughout my

paper. The following main sections interpret Moore’s articles and arguments: 1. How a

proposition acquires its significance; 2. How the way the words appear printed on the page

support Moore’s significance claims; 3. Further features of a common-sense proof; and 4. How

Moore’s proof works. These lead to the conclusion that Moore’s proof is a different kind of

proof than the usual philosophical conception. Moreover, in the terms developed through my

interpretation, it is fair to say that Moore provides a perfectly valid and acceptable proof that we

should feel certain there exists an external world.

Moore asserts that knowledge gained through proof acquires no significance unless it

exists within an established context — that is, a certain set of circumstances. He achieves this by

§ Sorrell 1
separating common sense from analysis. Pure analysis (e.g., a strong reading of Russell, to

whom Moore is arguably reacting) posits the possibility of context-independent proof, a situation

disallowed, in Moore’s view, by common sense. Moore separates common sense from analysis

by distinguishing what I will call “common sense knowledge” from “analytic knowledge” —

rendered in Moore’s terms, “certainty” from “knowledge1 .” Each is acquired through a different

kind of argument, and thus the kinds of knowledges that emerge are similarly distinct. A further

implied distinction between feeling and thinking underlies the distinction of knowledges.2

Moore’s delineations and separations are essential. His final proof of an external world

cannot rely upon “knowledge” of the existence of an external world, rather certainty of its

existence. Through the proof, Moore establishes the certainty of the existence of an external

world; he claims no “knowledge” of it. What Moore wants to assert, one level removed, is that

common sense proof3 entails establishment of certainty rather than analytic “knowledge.”

Analytic “knowledge” ought to be defined more precisely. What I mean is what I take

Russell to imply in his early writings: that we know something when we have subjected a piece

of “atomic” data to rigorous analysis. Moore pushes against various methods of analysis in “A

Defense of Common Sense.”4 One such view is that “knowledge” follows stimulus and

perception; “knowledge” amounts to an ordering of data via analysis5 . He pushes against such

views through his advocacy of a “Theory of Representative Perception” (64ff.) For example, he

1
I put “knowledge” in quotes when referring to what I’m calling “Analytic Knowledge.” Doing so will save
confusion, by distinguishing different ways in which Moore uses the word “knowledge.” Implied here is that we
can talk about different kinds of knowledges.
2
When speaking of argument from analysis-of-some-sort, I will hereafter put “argument” in quotes, just to preserve
the distinction.
3
Again I note here, to preserve the distinctions between different uses of the term “proof,” I will enclose the word in
quotation marks when referring to a proof not from common-sense. What this contrast amounts to will emerge as
my argument proceeds.
4
For example, he explicitly mentions John Stuart Mill’s “permanent possibilities of sensation” (66ff.)
5
On one characterization of such a view, its holders would not distinguish between kinds of knowledge. For them,
would be only one kind of “knowledge,” and that would be “knowledge” acquired through some sort of analysis;

§ Sorrell 2
does not think he directly perceives his hand — he perceives a surface. This perception is not a

piece of “knowledge” in the sense I employ here — Moore is certain that his hand is there. The

analysis of the data can yield “knowledge” about, perhaps, the source of the data, the

composition of the data, its reliability, or its possible further applications. The point or

significance of the analysis arises through its context. Again, the point of some kind of analysis

is to gain “knowledge.” The analysis can be done through the application of symbolic logic,

empirical generalization, comparison with pre-determined theoretical expectations, or any

process of this sort. Common sense knowledge, what Moore will come to call certainty6 , differs

in that it is not “processed;” it is a case of simply accepting a given perception (or proposition) as

certain without recourse to any analytic tool. Since those things of which we are certain, in the

common-sense sense, have not been run through a process of rigorous analysis, they do not, in

the analytic sense, qualify as “knowledge.”

SUMMARY OF “A D EFENCE OF COMMON S ENSE”

Moore’s goal in “A Defence of Common Sense” can be summarized as follows: The

essay aims to distinguish five main ways in which his view7 differs from what he takes to be the

views of some other philosophers. His first point begins with a list of certainly true, common

sense propositions (point 1), each of which correspond to a class of propositions (point 2.) Every

proposition in each class is similarly certainly true. Moore argues against two main objections:

(A) that some or all common sense propositions are not entirely true; and (B) that maybe they are

true but no one knows with certainty that they are true. Each of these two objections stem from

positions which Moore calls incompatible with his own position.

pure data, for example, would not qualify as a piece of “knowledge.” Nor would anything taken for granted.
6
Henceforth, certainty in italics refers to bits of common-sense knowledge. That is, things of which we are certain
are things we have knowledge of in the common-sense sense.
7
Note here, he refers to his position as a “view” rather than a “theory” of some sort.

§ Sorrell 3
 Moore’s second point in which he differs with some philosophers is likewise two-fold.

He believes that (A) Physical facts are not logically dependent on mental facts; and (B) that

physical facts are not causally dependent on mental facts.

The third point of difference is discussed only briefly. Moore finds no good reasons to

believe in either gods or the persistence of a person after death. There are no details provided.

Fourth, Moore develops the ways in which he believes that the truth of certain

propositions is certain, whereas it is their analysis that is doubtful. He combats positions which

argue that there can or do exist certain analyses.

Finally and again briefly, Moore develops the view that we don’t know for certain how to

analyze other such certain propositions (for example, “there are and have been many selves”)

(66).

HOW A PROPOSITION ACQUIRES ITS SIGNIFICANCE

It is the first of the points in “A Defence of Common Sense” that is of most interest here.

Moore distinguishes ways to consider the significance of a proposition: A common sense

approach and a philosophical approach. Given the proposition “the Earth has existed for many

years past,” Moore considers “knowing what it means” contrasted with “giving a correct

analysis.” In a general common-sense sense, Moore calls the proposition “unambiguous,” that

is, “we understand its meaning.” Importantly, Moore asserts that we “certainly”8 understand it.

In the philosophical / analytical sense, to consider whether we can “give a correct analysis,” we

need to take the proposition in a specific instance. I say this because it is data that admit of

analysis, and data are particular instances9 . For Moore, to subject the proposition “the Earth has

existed for many years past” to analysis, we need to consider it as data, that is, in a specific

8
The term “certainly” is used ambiguously. I will return to the important implications of this ambiguity later.
9
The sense of what I mean, if it is still unclear, should emerge in the following discussion.

§ Sorrell 4
instance. Moore says, “The question what is the correct analysis of the proposition meant on any

occasion … by ‘the Earth has existed for many years past’ is, … a profoundly different question

[than to ‘know what the expression means’]” (55). Furthermore, his statement coheres with my

above interpretation, that Moore importantly distinguishes between “understanding” and “giving

a correct analysis.” For Moore, we already “understand” the proposition, and trying to “give a

correct analysis” is futile.

One of Moore’s cleverest tactics emerges at this point, and I only mention this with

impressionistic precision. The tactic is to question the question(er). Moore says, “it is obvious

that we cannot even raise the question how what we do understand by [a proposition] is to be

analyzed, unless we do understand it” (55). In other words, to subject an understanding to

analysis, there must first exist an understanding. Before we answer the question, we have to

ponder in what ways we understand the question. So Moore takes the analytic question (“How

do we give a correct analysis”) and asks of it, “Don’t we need to understand it first?” Analysis,

on this view, can only begin after a fundamental understanding of a common sense twist on the

proposition, or at least, a common sense understanding of the proposition’s terms. To assume an

ideal analytic scenario, a condition of contextual independence, is to strip away the essential

“fundaments of understanding10 .” Those fundaments of understanding function as a base

network of relations; a base upon which we build understandings of propositions.

Let me try to better explain what I mean by “without context.” For what I am calling

analytic “knowledge,” a proposition is a significant piece of data all by itself. What I, and

Moore, am calling into question is the validity of this assumption, because all by itself (that is,

context independent) it loses its grounding. It loses the significance of the context from whence

it came. Individual statements lose empirical significance because empiricism as a process of

§ Sorrell 5
collecting data is only significant within the context of collection; that is, with a person present

to collect and with forces and world-views grasping and swaying the collector. The process of

collecting colors the resulting data. Analytic “knowledge” does not account for this — the

presumption is that data can be pure, that is, uncolored by the collection process. What I think

Moore is saying (and I agree) is that we must understand what goes into the process of collection

before analysis can legitimately begin. And understanding the process’ ingredients requires

certain common sense ideas. What I have been calling analytic “knowledge,” cannot exist

without recourse to a “network” of fundamental assumptions, understandings, and beliefs. What

sense could one make of “The Earth has existed for many years past” without a context?

These “ideal” conditions of which I speak are imported from science. An example will

illustrate11 . Lets say we want to consider the proposition:

Dingos don’t bark.

Analytic “knowing” will have us assume a situation where we are free from common prejudices

about both dingos and barking. That is, from this perspective, we will admit only the proposition

to analysis, subtracting our own views and subjective understandings of the terms of that

proposition from the analysis. We will seek truth or falsity of a proposition without recourse to a

context — without recourse to a particular situation, nor to a subjective perspective of that

situation. When seeking analytic “knowledge,” we seek truth or falsity of a proposition only

insofar as it is a proposition, and not insofar as it is a proposition acquired thus-and-so, with

these assumptions, by such-and-such a person at this specific time…. Science parallels this

when, in exemplars, it assumes such things as perfectly elastic collisions, point masses, no

friction, and so forth. The parallel is that, in science, like physics, we try to isolate data from

10
The reader will have to excuse the sudden introduction of this terminology. Again, its sense will emerge.

§ Sorrell 6
uncontrollable forces of the world; we try to acquire data within an isolated and controlled

environment. We do so because we don’t want other unaccounted forces to impact that data.

The kinds of “analysis” I have in mind attempts something similar with a proposition: the

proposition is isolated from the world so that, the hope is, unaccounted prejudices will not

impact the interpretation of the proposition. What Moore argues is that such analysis of

language, at least the languages we use to bang around the world, is impossible.

Moore can be heard to say, “If we extract all of this, what are we left with?” We have

stripped the proposition to a point that it is completely naked. Moreover, we have stripped

ourselves out of the proposition. For Moore, before we can start analyzing the proposition, we

first have to ground it with our general understanding of the terms of the proposition, or our

general understanding of the context in which the proposition appears. A dingo is a kind of dog

(already we import the unaccounted category dog12 .) And there’s a sound we call barking (now

we import ourselves by entering the necessarily subjective cataloging of sounds13 ), and

moreover, it is something I can hear. But, I must exist in some way before I can start thinking

about the dingo problem. To assume ideal conditions, we must deny, or at least not affirm, our

own existence in relation to the proposition and the world about which it proposes. So, we first

have to get a certain hold of what’s going on, of what’s going into the proposition. And to

understand the terms and kinds used in the proposition (for example “dingo”) we have to have a

fundamental notion of others (for example “dogness”14 .) This is our basic network of stuff – the

11
My procedure parallels Austin in his “Other Minds.”
12
Different people, say a biologist and a pet store owner, have different backgrounds informing what it is to be a
dog. This is the kind of thing that needs accounting, on the pure analysis view.
13
What I have in mind here is how it is we come to distinguish certain sounds. The first time one hears a dog bark,
without seeing the dog bark, one would not know what sound that was. And of course, the next time the bark would
probably sound different, yet once one experiences bark enough, one gains a competence in identifying what is and
isn’t a bark. Put simply, one has learned to hear barking.
14
I don’t mean to imply an underlying theory of essentialism. Given the context of what I am saying, all this means
is that we talk as though there is an essence to dogs – dogness. When we look further behind the as though, we may

§ Sorrell 7
fundaments we need to kick start analysis.

Calling this base a network may seem odd. Let’s say now that we want to further

investigate dog. To keep things simple, we consult the dictionary: “A four legged carnivorous

wild or domesticated animal….” Animal is yet another category, about which the dictionary

says: “Living thing with sense organs, able to move voluntarily.” Big problems emerge here:

“voluntariness,” “organs,” “thing.” I can continue to look up each term and eventually run full

circle, seeing that each depends upon an understanding of another and upon each other. Thing is

a basic term. For fun, I looked it up too: “Whatever is or may be perceived, known, or thought

about.” Then of course I wonder what whatever is: “Anything or everything….” There’s the

first impasse – thing depends on whatever, and whatever depends on thing (“something” and

“everything” both depend on “thing”.) Moore would say, “How ridiculous to analyze this far!”15

We take all of this for granted, including dog, dingo, barking, etc., because we have to. How can

anyone imagine the proposition without at least this context, without this presupposed network of

relations between the terms. Our basic conception is our common sense understanding of such a

network, not analyticity. Moreover, we accept the existence of these primal things with

certainty. As I’ve demonstrated, it is ridiculous and counter-productive to question it down to

independent atomic elements; the fundaments arise co-dependently.

find that there is no actual essence. An answer to that debate is not essential here.
15
In fact, in “Proof of an External World,” Moore grapples similarly with these words. “...[A]nd although in one
usage of the term ‘thing’ it would not be proper to call a shadow a ‘thing,’ yet the phrase ‘things which are to be met
with in space’ can be naturally understood as synonymous with ‘whatever can be met with in space,’ and this is an
expression which can quite properly be understood to include shadows” (71). As a side note, here I point out that
just because “thing” and “whatever” are synonymous, Moore does not jump to treat them as equivalent. That is, it is
not that one simply substitutes for the other in the statements (which conjures an image of mathematical
equivalence,) rather, they are synonymous and interchangeable because the sense of the proposition is preserved.
This point, however, requires another extended discussion to defend. I leave that for another time.

§ Sorrell 8
HOW THE WAY THE WORDS APPEAR PRINTED ON THE PAGE S UPPORTS M OORE’S
SIGNIFICANCE CLAIMS

One particular passage points to my meaning of the above assertions: “We are all, I think,

in this strange position that we do know many things, with regard to which we know further that

we must have had evidence for them, and yet we do not know how we know them, i.e., we do not

know what the evidence was” (56). There are two foci here: First, I note that Moore emphasizes

know. Second, I note that he shifts emphasis from know to how. When I mentioned the way the

words appear printed on the page, this is the kind of occurrence I had in mind — the use of

italics importantly shifts both our attention and Moore’s intention.

Know (in italics) has special meaning. The first page of “A Defence of Common Sense,”

when Moore explicitly states his strategy and adduces his list of certain propositions, is peppered

with the phrase “I know, with certainty, to be true.” Know is always followed by the epithet

“with certainty.” I stress that this happens only after know (in italics), and not after know (not in

italics), and nor does Moore ever “think, with certainty.” To know (in italics) is to know with

certainty, which only happens, for Moore, via common sense; it is in contrast to “know” as I’ve

been using it. Know always occurs within a common sense proposition, and the beliefs of

common sense are certainly true. “If we know [in italics] that they are features in the Common

Sense view of the world, it follows that they are true.” Therefore, with respect to the quote

above, when Moore shifts his emphasis from know to how (56), the use of know signals those

things which are products of common sense, that is, those things of which we feel certain. That

we know many things signals that there exists a network of common sense propositions, (for

example, Moore’s list, 48) for which we “know” no evidence, but know that evidence exists.

The shift of emphasis from know to how signals this, namely — we do not know in the analytic

“knowledge” sense discussed above. That we do not know how indicates that have no access to

§ Sorrell 9
a mechanism, that is, an analytic tool (logic) for reasoning about what we know.16 In this sense,

common sense is more basic than analysis; an interpretation that coheres with Moore’s broader

project. Again, this indicates that common sense comes prior to the analytic; that is, common

sense is that which is grounded, that from which we must build our analyses. Our questions and

knowledge only gain significance against a backdrop of a certain set of circumstances.

There is one passage which the reader may use to try undermining my interpretation that

Moore distinguishes certainty from knowledge. The passage gains more importance here given

that my interpretation holds when we again look at the way the words appear printed on the page.

The passage runs thus:

It is true that a philosopher who says “there have existed many human beings besides myself, and
none of us has ever known of the existence of any human beings beside himself,” is only
contradicting himself if what he holds is that “there have certainly existed many human beings
beside myself,” in other words, “I know that there have existed other human beings beside myself
(55).

The apparent problem lies in the last half of the sentence where “‘there have certainly existed”

equates with “I know that there have existed.” It appears that “certain” equates with “know.”

This is not the case. I note again that we must pay attention to Moore’s emphasis (use of italics.)

On this interpretation, certainty links to I, which brings us back to my assertion that certainty

links to common sense. Common sense views are certainly true, and Moore starts us off with

common sense views related to one’s own existence — related to I. That “I know” subjectifies

the knowledge; it places knowledge into a certain set of circumstances. Knowledge here differs

from analytic “knowledge,” because this certainty results without recourse to an analytic tool.

So, the interpretation of the passage holds: A contradiction develops within the philosopher who

denies knowledge of human beings, while implicitly maintaining certainty, that is, self-existence.

16
I think Moore actually slips here — the penultimate occurrence of “know” ought to be know, given the present
interpretation. Though I could sneak around it, I admit that my preferred interpretation would put the penultimate

§ Sorrell 10
 One may wonder if Moore really intended all I ascribe to his text, in particular the clever

use of italics. Whether he intended it or not isn’t a particularly important issue. The real issue is

that looking at the text with a keen eye to this detail takes us this far. It gives us the idea that

certainty might be different from knowledge, or that there can be different kinds of knowledges.

And it gives us a tool with which we can investigate the possibility of such a difference.17

Knowledge differs from certainty in that certainty results from our common sense

understandings of the world. And those common sense understandings depend on a certain

context, a certain network of certain terms, all leaning on one another to keep the structure

upright and sturdy. Perhaps that is too colloquial a rendering — what could be more

appropriate?

I think there is further strong evidence for the interpretation that Moore clearly wants to

distinguish different kinds of knowing. The final paragraphs of his “Proof of an External World”

are dedicated to a defense against critics who may argue that his proof is ineffective. The crucial

point at issue here he states as follows: “I can know things which I cannot prove” (84). Moore

argues to this conclusion partially as a response to Kant. Moore interprets Kant as saying “...so

long as we have no proof of the existence of external things, their existence must be accepted

merely on faith” (84). Moore’s argument against this position, which is really his whole paper,

can be encapsulated in the statement: “I can know things, which I cannot prove, and among

things which I certainly did know, even if (as I think) I could not prove them, were the premises

of my two proofs” (84). Moore understands the sense in which “proof” can lead to “knowledge.”

This is the “analytic” sense, as employed above. But for Moore, one can also know without

“know” in italics.
17
Personally, I think Moore had some purpose in mind — it’s hard to believe that he italicized capriciously. Indeed,
perhaps there is a point to his use of italics, but my interpretation misses that intended point. But using this
interpretive tool takes us to a point in Moore’s text that demands strong attention. That is valuable.

§ Sorrell 11
recourse to “proof” — this is the common-sense sense. In a funny way, he needn’t “argue” to

this conclusion; he knows this to be the case without proof. It’s slippery — to argue that there

can be knowledge without an analytic “proof” excludes analytic “proof” from the argument,

which seems to exempt Moore from needing to provide analytic “proof.” It seems that Moore

has redefined the terms in such a way that he need not do what he knows he cannot do. I claim

there is more to “redefinition” than sneaking out of a possible objection. He labors to construct a

deep philosophical point, not to escape critique. In an important way he must make a different

kind of argument. His entire essay is exactly this different kind of argument. When we get to the

end, we will see, this kind of argument, this kind of proof, results in a distinct kind of knowing —

knowing through a proof that doesn’t appeal to analytic “analysis.”

FURTHER FEATURES OF A COMMON S ENSE PROOF

It is impossible to separate Moore’s argument for contextual necessity from his

delineation of common sense from “analysis,” which is to say, his development of our

understanding that there can be different kinds of knowing. The ideas depend heavily upon one

another. I think the distinction is clear in Moore’s articles and clearly established here. The

more subtle task is to tease out the underlying, classic distinction between feeling and thinking,

as it appears in Moore’s text. Again, understanding Moore’s use of these terms clarifies the

overall argument. When Moore uses the term feeling, he means something he understands

through common sense. When he uses the term thinking, he means something he “understands”

through analysis18 . Therefore, the products of thinking are not certain in the common-sense

sense. From this, I can argue that certainty is significant in that it is a feeling we have about

common sense propositions.

18
Implied here is that we can also distinguish different kinds of understandings. By this point, it should be clear that
many philosophical terms take on new distinctions in the context of Moore’s arguments.

§ Sorrell 12
 A crucial point enters in Moore’s assertion of what point 2, in “A Defence of Common

Sense” asserts. He at one point says, “... I know ‘many human beings other than myself have

before now perceived, and dreamed, and felt’” (49). What is most important for us is that the

notion of “feeling” arises in the framework of common sense. Looking further at Moore’s

choice of words, he often inserts between commas, “I think.” The phrase functions as a signal

that Moore has performed an analytic “analysis.” Here’s one (among many) example: “But there

remain two points, which, in view of the way in which some philosophers have used the English

language, ought, I think, to be expressly mentioned if I am to make quite clear exactly how much

I am asserting in asserting 2” (50). One may be inclined to assume that Moore only uses “I

think” parenthetically, as a sort of catch phrase. I am uncomfortable with that interpretation.

Moore uses the term a lot. It is almost absurd the frequency with which he uses it. If he uses the

phrase merely as a qualification, then I think he’s over-qualified to the point of paranoia. I

believe there is more to it. I believe that Moore is not wasting page space. To say, “I think”

signals that I’ve stopped, considered an issue, perhaps options, perhaps I’ve taken another route

unfruitfully then returned, then come to a conclusion. That is to say, I’ve “analyzed.” When

Moore says he thinks he ought to mention ways philosophers (mis)use the English language, he

means that he’s seriously weighed the issue. Likely, Moore sat and considered, “what will my

paper be like if I don’t mention this issue?” Maybe he consulted an outline of the work, or

diagrammed his argument, or drew two columns labeled “things to clarify,” “things already

clear19 .” In any case, something, some process of analysis has occurred. He’s telling us exactly

that. He’s telling us that it was important to him — oughtn’t it be important to us? — to

seriously consider what may or may not be true about this statement or issue. “I think” signals

“analysis.” Notice, Moore would never say “I exist, I think,” because he’s certain of this. “I

19
The former column would have been huge.

§ Sorrell 13
exist” does not admit of analysis — it’s part of those crucial fundamental understandings. He

might say “It is important, I think, to talk about whether I exist,” because he knows that some

philosophers have doubts. So it is important that he considers whether to talk about existence,

but never to bicker about existence itself.

Many points can be made about the use of this phrase in the above quotation (50).

Briefly, first Moore wants to tell us that he has made an analysis, namely a meta-analysis of his

assertion of point 2. Second, neither “I” nor “think” appear italicized, indicating again that the

exercise here is “analytic.” That is, it is not a product of common sense or of certainty. Third,

Moore has seriously considered the effects of our philosophical use of language. What we can

legitimately extrapolate is that Moore wants to convince us that when we speak in these strange

philosophical terms, we need to ground ourselves, let ourselves begin, with common sense,

certain propositions.

With respect to the use of “feel” within the argument, here’s an example: “But many

philosophers seem to me to have held a certain view with regard to the analysis of facts of class

(α), which is such that, if it were true, there would be facts of another kind, which I should wish

also to call ‘mental facts.’ I don’t feel at all sure that this analysis is true; but it seems to me that

it may be true...” (58-9). The context of the argument is not particularly relevant to the point at

hand. Here I focus on Moore’s “feeling” that this specific philosophical analysis may not be

true. It is crucial that Moore here did not use his otherwise apparently favorite phrase “I think.”

Indeed, Moore’s issue, again one step removed, is the nagging suspicion that something, in this

case, may have gone terribly wrong with some sort of analysis. And what has gone wrong is that

such analysis is in tension with common sense20 . It is in the common-sense sense that Moore

20
It’s not clear that the tension is destructive, nor that it is always present. It may be that the tension is exactly what
philosophic inquiry is after. Maybe it’s what Moore is after?

§ Sorrell 14
“feels” uneasy, because given those things of which he is certain, analysis produces results

which, on the face of it, seem ridiculous. This kind of situation parallels situations where tools

fail to do the work we want them to do. In the most general of senses, Kantian ethics seems to

fail as a tool when we read of our moral obligation to a murderer at the door. What is significant

in the context of Moore’s paper is that our evaluation or understanding that a certain tool cannot

do the job we want it to do relies heavily on the understanding(s) that we carry into a situation.

We use our common-sense evaluative competence when we determine whether a particular tool

is the best to use on the task at hand. We can draw from Moore that “analysis”, in the

philosophical sense and in the sense that “analysis” is a tool, is the wrong tool for the task at

hand. Trying to use “analysis” to prove the existence of an external world is like trying to use a

hammer to torque a head-bolt. Even if we manage to get the job done, there is no doubting that

we will mangle the head-bolts.

Another point emerging in this passage is Moore’s ambiguous use of the term “certain”21 .

The ambiguous use of “certain” in the above passage is its use as a synonym for “specific.”

When Moore says that “many philosophers seem ... to have held a certain view ...” he means that

they have held a “specific” view, namely with respect to some analysis.

Moore adduces three criteria that a proof must satisfy in order to be effective (82). First,

the premises must differ from the conclusion; if the conclusion is nothing but a restatement of a

premise, the proof is weak.22 . Second, one must know the premises to be the case. Finally,

Moore states that the conclusion must really follow from the premises.23

21
The use of “certain” throughout this paper is subject to the same ambiguity.
22
For example, “My pen is red,” therefore “My pen is red” does not do any work.
23
For example, “My pen is red.” therefore “I can see a mountain from my window” is perfectly valid, yet the
premise is realistically disconnected from the conclusion. Grasping that disconnection relies on various
understandings we bring to the argument.

§ Sorrell 15
HOW M OORE’S COMMON-SENSE PROOF WORKS

Moore is not so careful in “Proof of an External World” with italics and use of words.

The passage of interest24 , for me, is Moore’s explanation of why his proof works25 , following

from the above stated three criteria. The first three instances of “certain,” in the paragraph

explaining these criteria are used in the sense of specificity: Certain conclusions, certain

questions, a certain book. The next four instances use the sense of knowing (in the vocabulary of

“A Defence of Common Sense”): It was certain, might be certain, could ever be certain, it was

certain. In both senses “certain” acts as a descriptor. In the former it describes nouns; in the

latter it describes verbs. The common-sense sense is the sense in which “certain” describes

verbs, usually (for example, common sense propositions are certain.) Yet, it is still ambiguous.

“Certain” functions ambiguously in the way certainty functions within and external to

proof. Moore’s proof requires certain premises (namely, “here is a hand; here is another hand,”)

and that these specific premises are certain in the common-sense sense. It is essential because

24
It is a long passage, but worthy of inclusion: “My proof, then, of the existence of things outside of us did satisfy
three of the conditions necessary for a rigorous proof. Are there any other conditions necessary for a rigorous proof,
such that perhaps it did not satisfy one of them? Perhaps there may be; I do not know; but I do want to emphasize
that, so far as I can see, we all of us do constantly take proofs of this sort as absolutely conclusive proofs of certain
conclusions — as finally settling certain questions, as to which we were previously in doubt. Suppose, for instance,
it were a question whether there were as many as three misprints on a certain page in a certain book. A says there
are, B is inclined to doubt it. How could A prove that he is right? Surely he could prove it by taking the book,
turning to the page, and pointing to three separate places on it, saying ‘There’s one misprint here, another here, and
another here”: surely that is a method by which it might be proved! Of course, A would have proved, by doing this,
that there were at least three misprints on the page in question, unless it was certain that there was a misprint in each
of the places to which he pointed. But to say that he might prove it in this way, is to say that it might be certain that
there was. And if such a thing as that could ever be certain, then assuredly it was certain just now that there was one
hand in one of the two places I indicated and another in the other” (82). Two points are of interest given the
development of this section of my paper. First, a proof like Moore’s is one kind of proof, just as the proofs one does
in mathematics or logic are certain kinds of proofs. Second, it is important to note that we enter a situation like
trying to prove the existence of an external world with a competence. We are competent to evaluate whether the
tools we are using are effective. We know the kind of procedure that will help us do the job we want to do. Given
Moore’s arguments, it is clear that “analysis” is not the kind of procedure that will help us prove the existence of an
external world.
25
For those not familiar with Moore’s proof, it is roughly this: “I can prove now ... that two human hands exist.
How? By holding up my two hands and saying, as I make a certain gesture with the right, ‘Here is a hand,’ and
adding, as I make a certain gesture with the left, ‘and here is another’” (81). This is supposed to prove that there are
things (namely Moore’s hands) external to Moore’s mind, and therefore to all minds. The conclusion is based, in

§ Sorrell 16
from these specific (certain) premises, the conclusion will follow (criterion 3, 82) — and these

specific (certain) premises are known to be the case, that is, are certain (criterion 2, 82.)

From all of the above, I establish that Moore’s proof functions in the following way:

When the conclusion is proven, the certainty of the premise(s) “copies into” the conclusion. Put

another way, the function of the proof is to impart the certainty of a premise to its conclusion.

So, after we’re given proof, we feel certain, — common sense is satisfied. It is amusing that

Moore notes: “...Many philosophers will still feel that I have not given any satisfactory proof26 of

the point in question” (83), as opposed to “thinking” that the proof is not satisfactory. Moore

wants to say, even the most doubting philosophers appeal to common sense (feeling) regarding

the results of the proof. In this way, I conclude that Moore proves the existence of an external

world not in that we have “knowledge” of it, rather that we feel certain of its existence.

part, on Moore’s assertion that, if he (or we) perceives something, “there follows the proposition that it is external to
my mind” (81). Perceiving the waving hands establishes that there is something external to Moore’s mind.
26
They are right if what they mean is that Moore has not given any “analysis” in such terms as Russell might use.
But certainly Moore has provided a good proof, in his carefully developed, common-sense sense of proof. He gives
good reasons for thinking the conclusion, at the very least.

§ Sorrell 17
G. E. MOORE ON —
WHY W E S HOULD F EEL C ERTAIN A BOUT
THE E XISTENCE OF AN E XTERNAL WORLD

Brian Sorrell
Master’s Thesis
May 1, 1999