## 1. Introducing States of Affairs


### 1.1 Talking about States of Affairs



Can one base our understanding of what states of affairs are on
features of how we talk about them?



Pollock holds that we normally refer to states of affairs by gerund
clauses such as *Kareem Abdul-Jabbar's being more than seven
feet tall* or *Spiro Agnew's being President of Yale
University* (see Pollock 1984b: 121). However, while the referents
of such gerund clauses seem not to be
propositions--"*Kareem Abdul-Jabbar's being more
than seven feet tall* is true" does not sound
right--these clauses are referentially flexible. For the gerund
clauses in the following sentences seem to refer to facts or events,
the relata of causal relations and objects of knowledge (the first two
examples are from Pollock 1984b: 122):


* *Charlie's eloping with Ginger* was surprising.
* *Mary's divorcing Charlie* caused *Charlie's
demise.*
* *Kareem Abdul-Jabbar's being more than seven feet
tall* is well-known.



Now facts may be nothing but states of affairs that obtain and events
states of affairs that obtain at some times and not at others. If this
were right, the gerund clauses above would refer to states of affairs.
But we need to get an independent grip on the notion of states of
affairs before settling the question whether facts and events are a
kind of state of affairs. For this purpose we can neither pick out
states of affairs as the things that obtain or nor say that they are
the referents of gerund clauses of the kind considered above.



Are there predicates that we apply to states of affairs and that are
distinctive of them? States of affairs are said to *obtain* or
*not*, while Fregean thoughts are *true* or
*false*. In contrast, facts exist; a fact cannot be qualified
as obtaining or not obtaining (see Betti 2015: 35). However, it seems
difficult to get a grip on the difference between *obtaining*
and *non-obtaining* on the one hand, and *truth* and
*falsity* on the other. *Prima facie*, the state of
affairs *Socrates's being wise* obtains if, and only if,
it is true that Socrates is wise (see Plantinga 1974: 45-6; see
also Betti 2015: 35). Pollock (1984a: 53) correctly observes that
"obtaining and not-obtaining are truth-like properties".
But why are they just truth-*like* and not just truth and
falsity under a different label; why can the obtaining of a state of
affairs not be identified with the truth of a thought or
proposition?



Betti proposes that the distinction between obtaining and
non-obtaining states of affairs is an ontological one:



> 
> 
> nonobtaining states of affairs have no mode of being (so they neither
> subsist nor exist) but they are still objects in their own
> right--that is, they are part of the catalogue of the world in
> their own right. (2015: 35-6)
> 
> 
> 



If this were right, states of affairs would be more even puzzling than
Meinongian objects that at least subsist. However, false propositions
seem equally to have only a "shadowy" existence:



> 
> 
> Time was when I thought there were propositions, but it does not seem
> to me very plausible to say that in addition to facts there are also
> these curious shadowy things going about such as "That today is
> Wednesday" when in fact it is Tuesday. (Russell 1918: 223)
> 
> 
> 



In conclusion: the difference between "is true (false)"
and "obtains (does not obtain)", does not help us to
distinguish states of affairs from other things. Is there a
theoretical role that states of affairs can, but thoughts
(propositions) and facts can't fill?


### 1.2 A Theoretical Role for States of Affairs



In order to answer this question, consider a school exercise in
probability (see Kripke 1980: 16). Take two ordinary dice, \(D\_{1}\)
and \(D\_{2}\), with six sides each. For each die, there are six
possible outcomes of a throw. \(D\_{1}\) and \(D\_{2}\) are thrown and,
on landing, display two numbers. Hence, there are thirty-six possible
outcomes of throwing the dice. Let us now calculate the probability
that the outcome of throwing the two dice is 11. There are only two
outcomes of throwing the two dice in which they show together 11:
either (i) \(D\_{1}\) shows 5 and \(D\_{2}\) 6 or (ii) \(D\_{1}\) shows 6
and \(D\_{2}\) 5. The probability of the outcome of \(D\_{1}\)'s
and \(D\_{2}\)'s jointly showing 11 is the ratio between all
possible outcomes of \(D\_{1}\)'s and \(D\_{2}\)'s jointly
showing 11 and the totality of possible outcomes of throwing the two
dice: 2/36 = 1/18.



In the calculations we assumed (1):



(1)
 There are bearers of probabilities: things that are probable or
improbable to a certain degree.


We also assumed that there is a space of possible states of the dice;
ways the two dice might fall. A way the dice might fall exists even if
it is not true that the dice have fallen that way:



(2)
 The possible states (outcomes) of \(D\_{1}\)'s and
\(D\_{2}\)'s showing jointly certain numbers exist whether it is
true that they show this number or false that they do.


The possible states are possible states of objects. \(D\_{1}\)'s
and \(D\_{2}\)'s *Showing 5* is a possible state of the
dice, however we describe them or ascribe the property. This suggests
(3):



(3)
Possible states are different if they are states of different
objects or constituted by different ways an object can be.


The possible states involved in our exercise have the properties
philosophers take states of affairs to have. States of affairs are
probable to a degree or possible, as stressed by Reinach (1911:
339-40; Kunne 1987: 185ff and Forbes 1989: 131 follow
Reinach). They are supposed to exist without obtaining (2) and to have
objects and properties as constituents (3).



(2) distinguishes states of affairs from facts. The fact that Socrates
is wise exists, if, and only if, Socrates is wise. If Socrates is not
wise, there is no fact of him being wise. Hence, the fact that
Socrates is wise cannot be a mere possibility for Socrates; it can, so
to speak, only be an actuality. In contrast, the state of affairs that
Socrates is foolish exists, even if Socrates is not foolish (see
Reinach 1911; Wittgenstein 1918: 2.04, 2.05; Plantinga 1974: 44;
Pollock 1984a: 52).



(3) distinguishes states of affairs from thoughts:



> 
> 
> [States of affairs] are "about" objects but not in terms
> of some mode of representation. States of affairs, in some sense,
> contain objects as direct constituents. (Pollock 1984a: 53)
> 
> 
> 



The state of affairs *Marilyn Monroe's being an actress*
and the state of affairs *Norma Jean Baker's being an
actress*, contain, in some sense, the same objects and properties
as constituents in the same order. They are the same state of affairs
under different names. However, I can believe that Marilyn Monroe is
an actress while doubting that Norma Jean Baker is an actress. Hence,
if there are states of affairs, they are not the content of
propositional attitudes like belief; thoughts are. This point leaves
open the possibility that a state of affairs is a set of thoughts that
are equivalent in some respect (see
 section 2.2).



The model of a space of possible outcomes of a throw of a die gives us
an initial idea of what the distinctive properties of state of affairs
are and why it is plausible to assume that there are any states of
affairs. It leaves questions about the precise nature of states of
affairs open. For example, Wittgenstein (1918: 4.26) argued that only
elementary sentences "picture" states of affairs. An
elementary sentence in Wittgenstein's sense is a concatenation
of simple proper names each of which refers to a simple object. The
names in the elementary proposition are arranged in a way that can be
mapped onto an arrangement of the simple objects named. This
arrangement of objects is the state of affairs pictured by the
elementary sentence. Nothing said so far rules out that states of
affairs that involve some objects and properties (relations) combine
to form further complex states of affairs that have states of affairs
as constituents. (Pollock 1984a: 55-6) defines negation,
conjunction etc. for states of affairs. For example, if there is a
state of affairs \(S\_1\) and a state of affairs \(S\_2\), their
conjunction is the state of affairs that obtains if, and only if, both
\(S\_1\) and \(S\_2\) obtain. If one wants to restrict the space of
possible states to combinations of simple objects, one needs to
marshal arguments that show that this and similar conceptions of
complex states of affairs is flawed. (This entry is mainly concerned
with simple states of affairs.)



Similarly, the model of states of affairs as possible outcomes does
not rule out that there are impossible state of affairs. If there is a
space of possible states of the dice, there seems to be a space of
*impossible* states of them as well. For example, it is
impossible for the dice to show 17 or no number at all (see Rumfitt
2015: 187f for a brief discussion of impossible states of
affairs).


## 2. Thoughts and States of Affairs


### 2.1 Individuation and Existence Conditions



Thoughts can be the contents of propositional attitudes. When one says
"There are three things that everyone who works on elementary
physics believes", one quantifies over things that everyone
working in elementary physics believes: thoughts (see Chisholm 1970:
19). Thoughts are also truth-value bearers ("There are three
*truths* that everyone who works in elementary physics
believes"). How are thoughts related to states of affairs? For
instance, how is the thought that Socrates is wise related to the
state of affairs *Socrates' being wise*?



*Prima facie*, thoughts are one thing, states of affairs
another. Thoughts and states of affairs differ in their individuation
and existence conditions.



*Individuation-conditions*: Thoughts are supposed to be the
contents of propositional attitudes like belief and desire. Let
"j" be shorthand for a propositional attitude verb
("desire", "believe" etc). If one can *j*
that *p* without *eo ipso* *j*-ing that *q* (and
*vice versa*), the contents that *p* and that *q* are
different. Now I can believe, for instance, that Hesperus shines
without believing that Phosphorus shines. Hence, if thoughts are the
contents of propositional attitudes, the thought that Hesperus shines
is different from the thought that Phosphorus shines. If the thought
that Hesperus shines is different from the thought that Phosphorus
shines, thoughts cannot be logical complexes whose constituents are
particulars and properties. Following Frege, many philosophers
therefore take thoughts to be complexes that are built up out of modes
of presentation. Here "thoughts" only refers to such
complexes. Since there are different modes of presentation of the same
particular (property), there can be different thoughts that concern or
are about the same particulars and properties. In contrast,
*Hesperus's shining* and *Phosphorus's
shining* are the same state of affairs, namely the complex that
contains only the planet Venus and the property of shining. We will
see in
 section 2.4
 that not all philosophers follow Frege's lead. If one has
arguments for a coarse-grained individuation of the objects of belief,
states of affairs may serve as contents of propositional
attitudes.



*Existence-conditions*: A thought is a complex whose
constituents are modes of presentation that purport to represent
objects. Standard accounts of modes of presentation allow for the
existence of modes of presentation that are empty. Hence, the
existence of a thought does not depend on the existence of the objects
it purports to represent. For example, the thought that Pegasus is a
horse exists, although there is no such horse (for defense and
elaboration see Sainsbury 2005: 86-9). This is different for
states of affairs. If a state of affairs is a complex that contains
objects and properties as constituents, it cannot exist if its
constituents don't exist. So while it is true that Pegasus does
not exist, there is no such state of affairs. This is unproblematic
for we have not been given any reason to think that such a state of
affairs obtains or does not obtain. For the same reason states of
affairs that contain contingently existing objects are themselves
contingent existents.



Philosophers often use the notion of a singular proposition. A
singular proposition is supposed to be (i) "directly
about" an object and (ii) evaluable as true or false. Direct
aboutness requires that what the proposition is directly about exists
if the proposition exists. If one combines (i) and (ii) with the
plausible assumption that the proposition that Superman does not exist
is singular and true, one arrives at the conclusion that Superman
exists. Similar problems arise for negative modal existential singular
propositions such as the proposition that Socrates might not have
existed. Williamson 2002 argues on the basis of these problems that
everything exists necessarily. Williamson's *modus
ponens* is Plantinga's (1983) and Merricks's 2015
(chapt. 5) *modus tollens*: singular propositions can exist
although the object they are directly about doesn't.



If one sides with Plantinga and Merricks, one can drive a wedge
between truth and obtaining. We are not compelled to hold that there
is a state of affairs *Superman's non-existing* because
we have no reason to say that such a state of affairs obtains or even
possibly obtains, while we have a reason to say that it is true that
Superman does not exist. Hence, the (singular) proposition that
Superman does not exist can be true without the state of affairs
*Superman's non-existing* obtaining. Obtaining is indeed
only truth-like.



Chisholm held that propositions are those states of affairs such that
either the state of affairs or its negation always occurs (on
Chisholm's notion of state of affairs, see Kim 1979). But, as we
have seen, the truth that Superman does not exist cannot be the state
of affairs Superman's non-existing occurring or obtaining.


### 2.2 States of Affairs and Probabilities



Reinach (1911: 339) claimed that "states of affairs, and only
states of affairs, can adopt such modalities" as probability and
possibility. He had in mind that an object such as a die cannot be
possible or probable. This seems plausible enough. It is equally
plausible that facts are not probable or possible. However, why
can't thoughts be probable or possible?



Forbes (1989: 130-131) refines Reinach's idea in taking
states of affairs as the *fundamental* bearers of modal
properties like *being possible*, *necessary* etc. From
Reinach we learn that particulars can't be the bearers of
modality. Fregean truth-values are also unsuited. According to
Frege's semantics for assertoric sentences, every true (false)
sentence, whether necessary or contingently true (false), refers to
the True (the False). Forbes appeals to our modal intuitions to argue
for a better candidate for the modal value bearer role,



> 
> 
> a category of entity not so finely discriminated as thoughts but more
> finely discriminated than truth-values, such that sentences with the
> same entity in the category as their references are guaranteed to have
> the same modal status. (1989: 130)
> 
> 
> 



Let us consider a pair of sentences to illustrate Forbes's
argument for an entity less discriminating than thoughts and more
discriminating than truth-values. Consider the sentence pairs:



(1)


a.
Hesperus shines.
b.
Phosphorus shines.
 
(2)


a.
Hesperus is Hesperus.
b.
Hesperus is Phosphorus.
 


(1a) to (2b) are all true. Hence, in Fregean terms, they all refer to
the True. Each of these sentences expresses a thought different from
all others. However, the members of each pair have the same modal
status that differs from the modal status of the members of the other
pair. (1a) and (1b) are contingently true; (2a) and (2b) necessarily
true. If one lets sentences stand for or describe states of affairs
whose constituents are the referents of the semantically relevant
sentence parts, one can capture this similarity: (1a) and (1b) ((2a)
and (2b)) have the same modal status because these sentences stand for
the same state of affairs (Forbes 1989: 131). In general, sentences
that stand for the same state of affairs have the same modal value. It
is then a short step to take states of affairs to be the primary or
fundamental bearers of modal status (1989: 131-2). A sentence is
contingently (necessarily) true if, and only if, it stands for a state
of affairs that contingently (necessarily)
 obtains.[2]



Can't facts be the basic bearers of modal status? Take a further
sentence pair:



(3)


a.
Hesperus has an orbital period of 226 days.
b.
Phosphorus has an orbital period of 226 days.
 


(3a) and (3b) are false, they express different thoughts, yet have the
same modal status: they might have been true. This similarity cannot
be explained by taking them to refer to the same fact; we need states
of affairs.



We can now answer our initial question: *Yes*, we need states
of affairs as well as thoughts. States of affairs and thoughts have
distinct individuation and existence conditions. Therefore, states of
affairs can be the *fundamental* bearers of modal
properties.



We can strengthen the conclusion by considering ways to dispute it.
Consider all thoughts that represent the same particulars and
predicate the same properties of them. Let us call these thoughts
*referentially equivalent*. Vendler proposed that a fact is
"an abstract entity which indiscriminately contains a set of
referentially equivalent *true* propositions" (Vendler
1967: 711; my emphasis). If we drop the restriction to true
propositions and simplify Vendler's idea, we can propose that a
state of affairs is a set of referentially equivalent thoughts,
whether they are true or not. The state of affairs
*Hesperus's shining* is the set of all thoughts that are
about Hesperus and predicate the property of shining to it.



However, such an approach to states of affairs makes them
explanatorily uninteresting. If we want to explain why (1a) and (1b)
((2a)-(2b)/(3a)-(3b)) have the same modal profile,
appealing to states of affairs in Vendler's sense does not allow
us to make progress. For instance, saying that (1a) and (1b) have the
same modal profile because they belong to the set of thoughts that are
about Hesperus and predicate the property of shining to it is at best
a partial explanation. For it raises such questions as "What has
belonging to this set to do with possibility?" and "In
virtue of which property has a set of thoughts modal
properties"? In contrast, the assumption that there are states
of affairs that are not just a particular kind of set and that have
properties like *being possible* or *being probable* can
be independently motivated and is explanatory progress.


### 2.3 States of Affairs and Possible Worlds



In
 section 2.2
 we used the modal properties of states of affairs to distinguish them
from thoughts. Some philosophers have proposed to use the connection
between states of affairs and modality constructively to explain what
a possible world is.



Lewis (1973: 84) points out that we talk about ways things might have
been. He goes on to label ways every thing might have been
"possible worlds". If it is possible that something is the
case, there is a possible world in which it is the case. What are,
then, possible worlds?



Van Inwagen distinguished between Abstractionist and Concretist
conceptions of possible worlds (see van Inwagen 1986: 185-6; see
also Stalnaker 1986: 121). According to a Concretist conception of
possible worlds such as David Lewis's, a possible world is the
maximal mereological sum of individuals that are spatio-temporally
related and each such sum is spatio-temporally isolated from all
others (see Lewis 1986: 69-70). There are no impossible worlds.
The actual world is the world in which we are located.



According to Abstractionists, possible worlds are abstract objects of
some sort. The exercise in probability calculation from
 section 1.2
 motivates an Abstractionist proposal in which states of affairs are
the basic building blocks. States of affairs are possible outcomes.
Kripke called possible outcomes "miniature possible
worlds". This suggests an idea of what a possible world is: it
is a *maximal* state of affairs. Pollock (1984a: 57) defines
possible world therefore as follows:



(PW)
 *w* is a possible world if, and only if, *w* is a
nontransient possible state of affairs and for any nontransient state
of affairs *S* if it is possible that *w* and *S* both
obtain, *w* includes *S*. (see also Plantinga 1974:
44-6)


A state of affairs *w* includes a state of affairs *S* if,
and only if, necessarily if *w* obtains, *S* obtains. The
actual world is the possible maximal nontransient state of affairs
that obtains.



A state of affairs is transient if, and only if, it obtains at one
time and not another. For instance, the state of affairs
*Socrates's not drinking hemlock* obtains at some times,
but not at others. Transient states of affairs are only possible,
actual etc. relative to a time. Before 399 BC it was possible that
Socrates does not drink hemlock, but this is no longer possible after
399 BC. A state of affairs is nontransient if, and only, if it is such
that necessarily if it obtains at one time it obtains at all times.
For example, the state of affairs *Socrates's being hungry on
the 15th of April 400 BC at 16:15* is nontransient.



(PW) makes use of modal concepts to define possible world: it must be
*possible* for *S* and *w* to both obtain etc. Hence,
this particular Abstractionist conception of possible worlds does not
allow one to explain modality away; it presupposes it. In contrast,
the Concretist conception promises a definitional reduction of modal
concepts. When we talk about possibility and necessity we quantify
over mereological sums of things. The concept of modality is not
required to distinguish between possible and impossible worlds: there
are no impossible ones. Why is (PW), then, attractive?



*First*, Forbes (1987: 139ff) argues that the identification of
possible worlds with constructions out of compossible states of
affairs solves the problem of accidental intrinsics (Lewis 1986:
199-201). Let us consider an intrinsic property of a human
being, say me, such as *having two hands*. I might have existed
without having had two hands. On the concretist account this implies
that there is a possible world in which I have a different number of
hands. But how can one and the same individual have two as well as
fewer/more hands "in different worlds"? If the worlds are
mereological sums that have me as a common part, this seems not
possible. Lewis concludes that the same object cannot be part of
different possible worlds. An object can only be in different possible
worlds by having counterparts in them.



According to counterpart theory, I might have had three hands only in
the derived sense by having counter-parts that have three hands (see
Kripke 1980: 45). This does not sit well with the intuition that
*I* strictly and literally speaking might have had three hands.
The identification of possible worlds with constructions out of
compossible states of affairs is faithful to this intuition. I have
different properties in different possible worlds, if the possible
worlds contain different states of affairs that involve me. One
possible world contains the state of affairs *MT's having
three hands*; the possible world that is actual contains the state
of affairs *MT's having two hands*. The different
possible worlds under discussion don't overlap, yet the
possibilities involve me (see Forbes 1987: 141).



*Second*, the semantics of counterfactuals. The so-called
"Stalnaker-Lewis semantics" for counterfactuals assumes
that a counterfactual such as "If it were rainy today, I would
take an umbrella" is true if, and only if, all of the closest
possible worlds in which the antecedent is true are possible worlds in
which the consequent is true. This semantics for counterfactuals
allows the substitution of logically equivalent sentences in the
antecedent of a counterfactual. For example, if the counterfactual
"If it were rainy today, I would take an umbrella" is
true, so is "If it were rainy and windy today or rainy and not
windy today, I would take an umbrella" because "It is
rainy today" and "If it is rainy and windy today or rainy
and not windy today" are true in the same possible worlds. Fine
(1975: 453f; 2012: 230f) argues that the substitution principle should
be given up in the light of puzzling consequences. But certainly one
can substitute some sentences in the antecedent of a counterfactual.
Which ones? Fine suggests replacing Stalnaker-Lewis semantics for
counterfactuals with a semantics in which possible states take pride
of place. Instead of a plurality of possible worlds there is a space
of possible states that involve particulars and ways they can be.
Assertoric sentences refer to states of affairs and only those
sentences that refer to the same state of affairs can be substituted
in the antecedent of a counter-factual (Fine 1975: 454).



Fine assumes that "It is rainy", "It is rainy and
windy" and "It is rainy and not windy" etc. refer to
different states of affairs (1975: 454). How can this assumption be
justified? If we take the idea that states of affairs are complexes
seriously, we can answer this question. Just like other complexes they
can (at least in part) be individuated in terms of their constituents.
The states of affairs \(S\_1\) and \(S\_2\) can therefore only be the
same state of affairs if they have the same constituents. This
conception allows for states of affairs that necessarily co-obtain,
but differ. For example, necessarily, the state of affairs that
triangle *A* is equilateral obtains if the state of affairs that
triangle *A* is equiangular and *vice versa*. Similarly,
the state of affairs *P* necessarily obtains if, and only if, the
state of affairs \(P \mathbin{\&} (Q \lor \neg Q)\) obtains. Yet,
these are different states of affairs: they have different
constituents.



This conception of states of affairs as complexes makes them useful
for semantics. If sentences refer to such states of affairs, logically
equivalent sentences can refer to different states of affairs and
therefore have different semantic properties. All tautologies are true
in all possible worlds, yet they can refer to different states of
affairs. A number of semantic theories assume that sentences refer to
states of affairs. These theories provide principles that determine
the reference of complex sentences on the basis of their parts (see
Fine 2012: 234; see also Rumfitt 2015: 160-7).



However, if states of affairs are individuated in terms of their
components and their mode of combination, there are for every possible
world many different maximal nontransient states of affairs (for the
following see Zalta 1993: 393-4). If the state of affairs
*P* is a possible world, so is \(P \mathbin{\&} (Q\lor \neg
Q)\) for an arbitrarily chosen possible state of affairs *Q*.
*P* and \(P \mathbin{\&} (Q\lor \neg Q)\) are necessarily
equivalent, but, according to our individuation method, different
states of affairs. Hence, there are many different maximal states of
affairs that correspond to the same possible world and, in particular,
to the actual world.



Zalta (1993) tackles this problem on the basis of his axiomatic theory
of abstract objects. According to him, abstract objects like numbers
exemplify but also encode properties. For example, 1 encodes the
properties that are essential to its identity; to its being the object
it is. In contrast, 1 exemplifies, but does not encode, the property
of being the number of inhabited planets of the solar system. In this
system, situations are those abstract objects that encode state of
affairs properties such as *being such that John is to the left of
Harry*. If a situation is the case, the state of affairs
properties it encodes obtain; the situation makes the encoded state of
affairs property factual. A situation *S* is a possible world if,
and only if, it is possible that *S* makes all and only the
obtaining states of affairs properties factual. On the basis of the
axioms of his system Zalta can show that there is a unique actual
world.



If one is unwilling to make a distinction between encoding and
exemplifying, but one wants to maintain the identification of possible
worlds with maximal possible states of affairs, one either has to
accept that necessarily equivalent states of affairs are the same or
one must identify possible worlds with sets of necessarily equivalent
possible states of affairs. We already rejected the first option as
unfruitful for semantics. The second option seems to result in a
set-theoretic modeling or replacement of possible worlds, not in a
conception of possible worlds (see Zalta 1993: 394).


### 2.4 States of Affairs and Propositional Attitudes



Thoughts can't fulfill the role of states of affairs as the
fundamental bearers of modal properties. Can states of affairs be the
contents of propositional attitudes? *Prima facie*, the answer
is *No*. We have already seen that states of affairs are too
coarse-grained to be the contents of propositional attitudes. I can
believe that Hesperus is a planet, without believing that Phosphorus
is a planet (and vice versa). Hence, the contents of the attitudes
differ. But the state of affairs *Hesperus's being a
planet* is just the state of affairs *Phosphorus's being
a planet*. Propositional attitudes are, at best, mediated
relations to states of affairs. For example, a belief represents a
state of affairs if, and only if, the believer assents to a thought
that describes a state of affairs.



Barcan Marcus has challenged this view. She argued that belief is
"a relation between a subject or agent and a state of affairs
that is not necessarily actual but that has actual objects as its
constituents" (Barcan Marcus 1993 [1990]: 240). Her
object-centered account of belief identifies belief with a
differential disposition to a state of affairs:



> 
> 
> *x* believes that *S* just in case, under certain
> *agent-centered circumstances including* *x*'s
> desires and needs as well as *external circumstances*, *x*
> is disposed to act as if *S*, that actual or nonactual state of
> affairs, obtains. (Barcan Marcus 1993 [1990]: 241)
> 
> 
> 



Believing that so-and-so does not require concept possession. For
example, believing that the sun is shining is a differential
disposition to the state of affairs *the sun's shining*,
however described or presented.



The object-centered account of belief contrasts with
mode-of-presentation-centered or language-centered accounts. The
object-centered theory allows us to take belief-ascriptions to
non-linguistic creatures to be literally true. However, it runs into
problems when it comes to assertoric utterances of sentences
containing empty singular terms. According to the object-centred view,
these don't express beliefs (see Barcan Marcus 1993 [1990]:
247). While the state of affairs **a*'s being
*F** can exist, although *a* is not *F*; it cannot
exist, if either *a* or *being *F** doesn't
exist. Now take the belief that Napoleon was French. I satisfy all
intuitive criteria for the possession of this belief. Imagine that we
find out that, after all, there was never such a person as Napoleon.
It was all a very elaborate hoax. Then there is no state of affairs
composed of Napoleon and *being French*. Hence, although all
intuitive criteria may have told us that I believed that Napoleon was
French, we now find out that I never had that belief. This is
counter-intuitive and artificial.



To sum up: Thoughts and states of affairs are different things.
Thoughts cannot be reduced to states of affairs and the reduction of
states of affairs to sets of referentially equivalent thoughts is
unwarranted. We need both thoughts and states of affairs in order to
fulfill different roles.


## 3. Facts and States of Affairs


### 3.1 Facts as Truth-Makers and Regress-Stoppers



What are facts and how may they be distinguished from states of
affairs?



The Truthmaker-Argument is the main argument for the introduction of
facts (see Armstrong 1997: 115ff). It also yields an understanding of
the main features of facts. The argument can be summed up as
follows:



(P1)
 Every truth must have a truth-maker.
(P2)
The best candidates to occupy the truth-maker role are facts.
(C)
There are facts. 


Armstrong takes (P1) to articulate the following intuitive asymmetry:
It is true that Socrates is wise *because* Socrates is wise;
but Socrates is not wise *because* it is true that Socrates is
wise (see Armstrong 2004: 4). In Armstrong's terminology a
truth-bearer is *true in virtue of* (*made true by*) the
existence of another entity, a truth-maker. A truth-maker ensures or
guarantees the truth of a truth-bearer. Some authors take this
guarantee to be a form of necessitation: *x* makes it true that
*p* if, and only if, necessarily, if *x* exists, it is true
that *p*.



This brings us to the second premise of the Truthmaker-Argument. Why
are facts the best candidates for the truth-maker role? Let us work
through some alternatives. Take the thought that Socrates is wise. The
existence of which object necessitates its truth? Socrates can exist
without being wise. Hence, *Socrates* is not the truth-maker we
are looking for.



The last point suggests that only a complex entity that
"contains" Socrates as well as the property of *being
wise* is a candidate for the truth-maker role. The mereological
sum of Socrates and *being wise*, that is, the whole that has
only Socrates and wisdom as parts, satisfies this condition, yet it
cannot fulfill the truth-maker role. If Socrates and wisdom exist,
their mereological sum exists. Hence, the sum exists whether it is
true that Socrates is wise or not. For similar reasons the set that
contains only Socrates and *being wise* cannot be the
truth-maker of the thought that Socrates is wise. Armstrong concludes
that only the fact that Socrates is wise that "ties"
Socrates and *being wise* makes it true that Socrates is wise
(see Armstrong 1997: 118).



Armstrong's conception of truthmaking is controversial (see, for
instance, Restall 1996). I will set its problems aside here and focus
on clarifying the relation between facts and states of affairs. Facts
"tie" particulars and universals. This brings them close
to states of affairs that also involve particulars and universals.
What distinguishes them is that the existence of a fact is supposed to
guarantee the truth of a truth-bearer. The existence of the fact that
*a* is *F* can only guarantee the truth of the thought that
*a* is *F* if one cannot distinguish facts into those that
obtain and those that do not obtain. Saying of the fact that Socrates
is wise that it obtains is redundant, while it is not redundant to say
so of the state of affairs *Socrates' being wise*.



Facts are also introduced in order to stop a regress of instantiation.
Take the particular *a* and the property of *being*
*F* and assume that they can exist independently of each other.
Given this assumption, there must be a relation that
"ties" them together to **a*'s being
*F**. If the required "tie" is a genuine
relation, a regress, usually called *Bradley's regress*,
ensues: we need to introduce another relation that ties the first
relation to *a* and being *F*, and so on. Facts are supposed
to prevent Bradley's regress (see Armstrong 1997: 115 and 118;
Hossack 2007: 33). How? Relations that tie particulars and properties
together are "explained away" in terms of facts that
contain particulars and properties: if *a* instantiates
*F*-ness, it does so *because* the fact that *a* is
*F* exists. The existence of this fact guarantees that *a*
is *F*. Facts are just instantiations of universals by
particulars (see Armstrong 1997: 119). Hence, we arrive again at the
result that the obtaining/non-obtaining distinction does not apply to
facts.



In contrast to facts the obtaining/non-obtaining distinction divides
states of affairs into those that obtain and those that do not obtain
(see
 section 1).
 For this reason states of affairs cannot be truthmakers: their
existence does not necessitate the truth of a truth-bearer. The state
of affairs *Socrates' being foolish* exists in some
possible worlds in which Socrates is foolish, but it also exists in
possible worlds in which Socrates is not foolish. Vallicella
reinforces this point:



> 
> 
> [Facts] are not to be confused with abstract states of affairs which
> either obtain or do not obtain depending on how the world is. The
> latter are themselves in need of something in the world that explains
> why they obtain. (Vallicella 2000: 237)
> 
> 
> 


### 3.2 Are Facts Just Obtaining States of Affairs?



States of affairs contain particulars and properties; facts tie them.
This similarity encourages the question whether a fact is nothing but
a state of affairs *that obtains* (see Horwich 1990: 113 who
takes true Russellian propositions to be facts). On this view the
reason why it is redundant to say that a fact obtains is that a fact
is just an obtaining state of affairs. However, the identification of
facts with obtaining states of affairs creates problems for the theory
of truthmaking. Assume that the fact that Socrates is wise is just the
obtaining state of affairs *Socrates' being wise*. The
fact is supposed to make it true that Socrates is wise. But if the
fact is just the obtaining state of affairs *Socrates' being
wise*, we need in turn something that explains why the state of
affairs obtains. For it seems correct to say "The state of
affairs *Socrates' being wise* obtains because Socrates
is wise", but not "Socrates is wise because the state of
affairs *Socrates' being wise* obtains". Hence,
obtaining states of affairs cannot play the same role as facts. They
cannot be truth-makers. The question "Why is it true that
Socrates is wise?" cannot be *conclusively* answered by
saying "Because *Socrates' being wise*
obtains". This answer is in need of a further explanation of the
same type as the one we were originally after.


### 3.3 Are States of Affairs Just Recombinations of Fact Constituents?



A non-obtaining state of affairs cannot be a fact. But can every state
of affairs be a recombination of particulars and properties that are
combined in some facts? Combinatorialists answer Yes (see, for
example, Skyrms 1981; Armstrong 1989: 45ff; Bigelow 1988; Forbes 1989:
137). This idea has two main varieties:




*Fictionalism*: Like ideal gases or frictionless surfaces,
possible states of affairs are (useful) fictions; only facts exist.
Assume that *a* is not *F*. There exists no possible state
of affairs **a*'s being *F**. But there is the
fiction of possible states of affairs according to which there is the
state of affairs **a*'s being *F** if, and only
if, *a* and *being *F** are contained in some facts
(see Armstrong 1989: 46 and 49ff and the entry on
 modal fictionalism
 for a detailed overview).



*Representationalism*: there are no possible states of affairs,
only representations of possible states of affairs (see Lewis 1986:
146 who ascribes this view to Skyrms). These representations are
set-theoretic constructs that contain as their members particulars and
universals that occur in some facts. For example, if
**a*'s being *F** and **b*'s
being *G** are both facts, but the sentence "*a*
is *G*" is false, there is no state of affairs
**a*'s being *G**, but there is an ordered-pair
that contains *a* and *being *G* as* its members.




Representationalism raises the question: what distinguishes a
(possible) state of affairs from a mere representation of it? Why is
the state of affairs **a*'s being *G** not
simply the ordered pair of *a* and *being *G**? We
will come back to this question in
 section 5.


## 4. States of Affairs in the Metaphysics of Perception and Value



So far states of affairs may seem to be useful theoretical constructs
of philosophical semantics and modal theory. For example, Taylor
(1976: 263) introduced a notion of states of affairs that is language
relative: different languages posit different totalities of state of
affairs. Are there reasons to introduce states of affairs
independently of theorizing about language and modality?


### 4.1 States of Affairs as the Primary Objects of Perception



One answer to this question takes states of affairs to be the things
we directly perceive. Here is an argument from the recent literature
that will get us started in thinking about this view:



> 
> 
> While we often speak of perceiving *objects* alone (a bird, a
> bush, a cloud, a star) or *properties* alone--depending on the
> purpose of our attention or the purpose of our reporting--it does not
> seem possible to perceive objects without at least some of their
> properties, or to perceive properties without perceiving at least some
> instantiations of these properties. (Church 2013: 11)
> 
> 
> 



Church concludes that "perception is always perception of a
state of affairs" (ibid. See also Levinson 2006: 576)



According to this Argument from Perception, perceptual reports such as
"I saw a robin yesterday" are incomplete. What I saw was
the state of affairs of the robin's being a certain way. I
report that I saw a robin because my attention was focused on the
bird.



Some champions of states of affairs want to resist the Argument from
Perception. Husserl (1901: SS 28) and Reinach (1911: 341f]) denied
that states of affairs can be perceived. They argued that only
particulars, birds, bushes etc., can be the direct objects of
perception. We *say* "NN saw that a robin sat on a
twig." But these utterances are supposed to be reports of
*judgements* that depend on perceptions of particulars. Hence,
the existence of such reports is supposed to be compatible with the
claim that states of affairs can only be the correlates of
judgements.



The Argument from Perception indeed needs strengthening. The move
from:



Necessarily, if one perceives *x*, one perceives a property of *x*.



to



Necessarily, one perceives (the state of affairs of) *x*'s having
a property



is not valid. If one sees the robin, it appears distinct from its
environment. The robin can only appear distinct from its environment
if one perceives at least one property of it. But that one perceives
an object in virtue of perceiving some of its properties does not yet
imply that one perceives the object's having the property.
Consider an analogy: I can only touch an object if I touch a part of
it. But that does not mean that I really touch a different object: the
object's having the part.



Even if the argument above can be strengthened, the strengthened
version seems only to show that the primary objects of perception are
property instantiations or facts (see Church 2013: 12). Seeing is a
factive mental state. Hence, if I see the robin perching on the twig,
and things are as they visually seem to me, it is a fact that the
robin is perching on the twig. At best the Argument from Perception
gives us a reason to believe in facts, but not in states of
affairs.



However, there is an argument in the vicinity of the Argument from
Perception that speaks to the existence of states of affairs. McDowell
used the thesis that we perceive the referents of
'that'-clauses as a basis for direct realism:



> 
> 
> In a particular experience in which one is not misled, what one takes
> in is *that things are thus and so*. *That things are thus
> and so* is the content of the experience, and it can also be the
> content of the judgement if the subject decides to take the experience
> at face value [...]. But, *that things are thus and so* is
> also, if one is not misled, an aspect of the layout of the world: it
> is how things are. (McDowell 1994: 26)
> 
> 
> 



If a particular experience, McDowell argues, *does not mislead
us*, it discloses the fact that things are thus and so. This very
fact can be judged and will be among the facts that make up the world.
So much about veridical perception. What about *non-veridical*perception?



If we assume that veridical and non-veridical perception have a common
factor, states of affairs start to pull their weight in the theory of
perception. Consider two different kinds of non-veridical perception:
hallucination and illusion.



*Hallucination*: if you visually hallucinate an oasis, you are
not mistaken about something you see: *prima facie*, there is
nothing to see. But even hallucinations seem to be perceptual
awareness of something. Johnston (2004: 134f) therefore describes
visual hallucinations as perceptual awareness of a complex property
(he calls it a "profile"), a way some things might be,
that is not instantiated (at the time).



*Illusion*: if the stick that is straight looks bent to you,
there is something you see, the stick, but it is not the way it
visually seems to you: you see the stick, but it is not bent. How can
one conceptualise such illusions? Johnston takes his cue from the
hallucination case. An illusion is an improved hallucination: we are
aware of a complex property that is in part instantiated:



> 
> 
> Illusion is seeing a particular combined with non-veridical seeing of
> the particular *as thus and so*. When the *seeing as* is
> primary in this way, one is aware of a particular and one is aware of
> a complex profile, only part of which is instantiated by the
> particular. One also sees the particular as instantiating parts of the
> profile, parts that it does not instantiate. (Johnston 2004: 174)
> 
> 
> 



If you experience the straight stick as bent, there is something your
experience is of. This is not only the stick, but something which
combines the stick and being bent: the state of affairs of the
stick's being bent (at a time). This state of affairs exists,
but does not obtain. Your visual experience has an object, but because
the object does not obtain, you suffer an illusion.



In sum: states of affairs offer themselves up to systematize the
relations between seeing, visual hallucination and illusion. For
instance, one might suggest the following explications: 
S's experience as of a's being F is S's seeing a to
be F, if, and only if, the state of affairs of a's being F
obtains and causes the experience in the right way; S's
experience is an illusion if, and only if, the state of affairs does
not obtain; and the experience is a hallucination if, and only if,
only the state of affairs of a's being F does not exist, but its
property-part does.



This systematization is based on the assumption that there is a common
factor in seeing and suffering from a visual illusion: both are
experiences of a state of affairs, the only difference is that the
states of affairs does not obtain in the second case. McDowell (see
his 1982) and other philosophers argue that it is a mistake to hold
that veridical perception and illusion involve a common factor. The
plausibility of an argument for states of affairs as the primary
objects of perception depends on the defensibility of the common
factor assumption.



 


### **4.2 States of Affairs in the Metaphysics of Value**



Which things are good for their own sake and without qualification?
Particulars like the Taj Mahal? Properties like Beauty or Justice? Or
something else?



The British philosopher William David Ross was one of the first who
argued that one could make progress with these questions about value
by bringing in the referents of 'that'-clauses:



> 
> 
> Consideration of the question is aided if we adopt the view [...] that
> what is good or bad is always something properly expressed by a
> that-clause, i.e. an objective, or as I should prefer to call it, a
> *fact*. (Ross 1930: 137)
> 
> 
> 



According to Ross, Justice is not intrinsically good. What is
intrinsically good is *that someone or other is just*.
Rabinowicz and Ronnow-Rasmussen 2000 argue against Ross's
thesis: sometimes *that a is F* is good because *a* is
good. If their arguments are convincing, objectives are not the only
kind of thing that is good/bad for its own sake.



If 'that' clauses introduce bearers of intrinsic value,
what do these clauses refer to in ascriptions of value? It seems
intuitively implausible to holds that *thoughts* are
intrinsically good (bad). Thoughts represent how things might be or
not. A representation might have value but its value depends, at least
in part, on what it represents. Hence, thoughts seem not to be bearers
of intrinsic value. Neither facts nor states of affairs represent how
things might be or not. Hence, both are candidates for the role of
being bearers of intrinsic value.



Ross (see above) opted for facts as the bearers of intrinsic value.
This view is defended, among others, by Lemos (1994: 23-5) and
Zimmerman (2001: 51ff) although Zimmerman rejects the
"fact" terminology and prefers to talk about
property-exemplifications. Chisholm and Sosa (1966: 244) assumed that
states of affairs are bearers of intrinsic value. But they warned the
reader:



> 
> 
> Ordinarily, one would not say of any unexemplified state of affairs
> (say, that everyone is happy) that it is good, or bad, or better than
> some other state of affairs. One might say, instead, that the state of
> affairs would be good, or bad, or better than some state of affairs if
> only it were exemplified. (ibid.)
> 
> 
> 



This warning is the cue for Zimmerman's (2001: 47) argument for
the conclusion that property-exemplifications (facts) and not state of
affairs are value-bearers. If something has an intrinsic value, it has
it in all circumstances. Hence, a state of affairs cannot have final
value if it obtained (were exemplified) and be without value if does
not obtain (is not exemplified). If the value of the state of affairs
depended on the state of affairs's obtaining, the state of
affairs itself would not be the true bearer of value. The true bearer
of value is the object that exists in all and only those situations in
which the state of affairs obtains. The true bearer of intrinsic value
is fact that exists in all and only those situation in which the state
of affairs obtains.



If non-obtaining states of affairs can have intrinsic value, this
argument does not get off the ground. Rabinowicz and
Ronnow-Rasmussen (2000, 401f) outline considerations that
support the view that some non-obtaining states of affairs are
intrinsically good (bad). We value (love/like) the state of affairs of
everyone's being happy. For example, although you know that this
state of affairs does not and probably will never obtain, you like it
and like it more than the obtaining states of affairs. The question at
issue between the fact and the state of affairs view of intrinsic
value is whether a state of affairs is good (bad) because worlds in
which it obtains are good (bad) or whether worlds in which the state
of affairs obtains are good (bad) because the state of affairs is good
(bad).


## **5. States of Affairs as Complexes**



In the previous sections we have seen that states of affairs can only
play important explanatory roles if the necessarily co-obtaining
states of affairs are distinct. This gives us a reason to reject
Chisholm's (1976: 118) thesis that necessarily co-obtaining
states of affairs are identical. At the same time it puts weight on
the characterization of states of affairs as "involving"
objects and properties or as composed out of objects and properties.
It seems intuitively plausible that the state of affairs
*Socrates's being wise* involves Socrates and the
property of being wise. But in what way do states of affairs involve
particulars and properties?


### 5.1 States of Affairs as N-Tuples and Wholes



Ordered n-tuples have members. Are states of affairs n-tuples that
have objects and properties as members? Is, for example, the state of
affairs *Socrates's being wise* nothing but the ordered
pair \(\langle\)Socrates, being wise\(\rangle\)? Plantinga answers
NO:



> 
> 
> Clearly there are many set-theoretical models of our talk about states
> of affairs and individuals. Why pick any of them as more revealing
> than the others? (Plantinga 1984: 327)
> 
> 
> 



We can model states of affairs as ordered n-tuples in many different
ways. But there seems no way to decide between \(\langle\)Socrates,
being wise\(\rangle\) and \(\langle\)being wise, Socrates\(\rangle\)
as the right model for the state of affairs. Hence, the state of
affairs is not identical with either ordered pair (see Pollock 1984b:
138).



Some philosophers spell out "involvement" as containment:
A state of affairs is a complex that contains properties and
particulars as *parts*. In order to assess this proposal, let
us first sharpen our understanding of the part-of relation. It is
controversial weather the relation we aim to pick out with
"part-of" is reflexive (everything is part of itself) or
not. But it is not controversial that the relation is transitive (if
*x* is a part of *y,* and *y* is a part of
*z*, *x* is a part of *z*) and antisymmetrical (if
*x* is part of *y*, and *y* is a part of *x*,
*x* is identical to *y*) (see the entry on
 mereology,
 sect. 2 and 3). A further plausible principle governing our part-of
relation is the supplementation principle: if *x* is a part of
*y*, there is an object *z* that is part of *y* and
*z* does overlap, that is, have a part in common, with
*x*. The supplementation principle implies the intuitively
plausible view that nothing can have a single proper part. The
supplementation principle together with the uncontroversial axioms for
the (proper) part-of relation also implies the more controversial
thesis that complex objects with the same parts are identical (see
entry on
 mereology,
 3.2).



The transitivity of part-of immediately gives rise to problems. For
instance, Frege wrote to Wittgenstein:



> 
> 
> [If Vesuvius is part of a state of affairs,] it seems that parts of
> Vesuvius must also be parts of this fact; the fact will hence also
> consist of solidified lava. This does not seem right to me. (Frege
> 1919: 20; my translation)
> 
> 
> 



If Vesuvius is part of the obtaining state of affairs
*Vesuvius's being a volcano*, the state of affairs must
by the transitivity of part-of contain the parts of solidified lava
that are parts of Vesuvius. But if the state of affairs contains the
solidified lava as parts, it must have a weight and an extension etc.
However, the state of affairs *Vesuvius's being a
volcano* is not a thing that has weight etc.



There are further problems for the view that states of affairs are
complexes. If the state of affairs **a*'s being
*F** has only *a* and *being *F** as its
parts (in any plausible sense of "part"), it can only
exist at a time at which *a* and *being *F** exist
(the sum of all my body parts exists only at the time when all my body
parts exist). Hence, the state of affairs **a*'s*
ceasing to exist before *b's* starting to exist cannot be
a complex containing *a* and *b*. For there is no time when
its constituents both exist (see Kunne 2003: 122).



The principles for the (proper) part-of relation imply that complexes
with the same parts are identical. But take the state of affairs that
Romeo loves Juliet. If it has Romeo, Love and Juliet as its parts, it
is the same as the state of affairs that Juliet loves Romeo. But
intuitively, the state of affairs *Juliet's loving Romeo*
is different from the state of affairs *Romeo's loving
Juliet*. On the standard mereological conception of part,
particulars and universals are not parts of states of affairs.


### 5.2 Non-Mereological Composition to the Rescue?



The last point cuts both ways. Why not say that different complex
objects can have the same parts? Armstrong (1997: 118) answered this
question positively and argued that facts are non-mereological
composites. Lewis has denied that there is room for non-mereological
composition (see Lewis 1992: 213; for discussion McDaniel 2009).
However, independently of considerations about states of affairs we
allow for different wholes that share all their parts. For instance,
the sentences "John loves Mary" and "Mary loves
John" both consist of the same words "John",
"Mary" and "loves", yet they are clearly
different sentences.



But our intuitive notion of part does not allow for wholes with only
one part: if something *x* is part of a whole *W*, there is
a remainder of *W* that is not identical with *x*. To
illustrate: If you tell me that this slice is part of your cake, but
there is no distinct, further part of your cake, I will take you to
make joke or to be confused. The remainder principle is implied by the
supplementation principle of mereology, but not the other way around
(see
 mereology
 entry, sect. 3.2) Hence, we can draw on the remainder principle
without endorsing the stronger supplementation principle. Now there
seem to be states of affairs that "contain" only one
property (see Bynoe 2011 who argues the following point in detail).
Bradley's Regress which was discussed in
 section 3.1
 seems to show that the state of affairs *Socrates' being
wise* consists only of Socrates and *being wise*. There is
no relation that ties them to a state of affairs. Otherwise the
question would arise what relates this relation to Socrates and
*being wise*. Now some properties instantiate themselves:
identity is self-identical. Hence, the state of affairs
*identity's being self-identical* obtains. But this state
of affairs contains only the property of identity. There seems to be
no intuitively acceptable sense of "part" in which such
states of affairs have parts.



We are back then to the problem of how to make sense of how a state of
affairs involves properties and particulars. In order to solve it, we
need to find a relation between the state of affairs
**a*'s being *F** and *a* and *being
*F** that (i) does not make *a* and *being *F*
parts* of the state of affairs, (ii) allows one to distinguish
between necessarily co-obtaining states of affairs, and (iii)
distinguishes the state of affairs **a*'s being
*F** from other objects that, intuitively speaking, involve
*a* and *being *F**.


### 5.3 Are States of Affairs Ontologically Dependent?



Fine (1982: 51-2) has suggested an answer that invokes the
independently motivated idea that the identity of some objects is
explained in terms of the identity of other objects (see also Fine
1995; Bynoe 2011: 99-100; and Keller 2013: 669). Consider
Fine's example of the singleton of 1. The singleton of 1 is the
set whose sole member is 1. The singleton of 1 is ontologically
dependent on 1 because its identity depends on the identity of 1. We
explain what the singleton is by appealing to 1, but not the other way
around. Similarly, the identity of (atomic) states of affairs is
explained in terms of objects and properties. Fine (1982: 52) takes
basic states of affairs--*propositions* in his
terminology--to be the results of the application of the
operation of predication to particulars and properties. We say what
the state of affairs **a*'s being *F** is by
saying that it is the result of predicating *being *F** to
*a*. Hence, the state of affairs **a*'s being
*F** depends on predicating *being *F** to
*a.* Complex states of affairs are the result of the
application of such operations as conjunction and disjunction to basic
states of affairs (on Operationalism as a general approach see Fine
2010: 564ff). The notion of predication gives rise to several
questions and we will come back to it in the next section.



If states of affairs are ontologically dependent on particulars and
properties, we can satisfy the desiderata (i) to (iii):



(i) An object can ontologically depend on other objects without being
a complex that contains these objects as parts. The axis of the earth
ontologically depends on the Earth, but it does not contain the Earth
as a constituent. The assumption that the state of affairs
**a*'s being *F** ontologically depends on
*a* and *F* can therefore solve the problems that arise for
the assumption that it contains *a* and *F*. Take for
example Frege's intuitive argument against the view that states
of affairs contain physical objects like Vesuvius. The state of
affairs *Vesuvius's being a volcano* ontologically
depends on Vesuvius, but it does not contain it as a part. Hence, it
does not contain the lava parts that are the parts of Vesuvius. There
is no need to ascribe weight etc. to the state of affairs.



Ontological dependence helps us to get around the temporal problems
raised by the logical complex view of states of affairs. While a
complex cannot exist at a time at which some of its parts don't
exist, an object can ontologically depend on objects that no longer
exist. (I ontologically depend on a particular event, the
fertilization of a particular egg by a particular sperm, although this
event is long past.)



(ii) Fine's proposal suggests that states of affairs are
individuated in terms of the objects and relations in virtue of which
they exist:


* (Same2) If \(S\_1\) and
\(S\_2\) are states of affairs, \(S\_1 = S\_2\) if, and only if, \(S\_1\)
and \(S\_2\) exist in virtue of the same properties predicated of the
same particulars.



This criterion of identity for states of affairs distinguishes between
the necessarily co-obtaining states of affairs *Hesperus's
being self-identical* and *Socrates' being
self-identical* because they ontologically depend on different
things. Hence, they come out as different. In turn,
*Hesperus's being a planet* and *Phosphorus's
being a planet* come out, as it is desirable, as the same state of
affairs.



(iii) If the state of affairs *Hesperus's being a planet*
ontologically depends on Hesperus, it can only exist if Hesperus
exists at some time. In contrast, a thought can exist whether or not
the objects it purports to be about ever existed or will exist. The
thought that Pegasus is a horse exists, whether there is such a horse
or not.



The notion of ontological dependence sheds light on the sense in which
states of affairs "involve" particulars and properties: a
state of affairs involves those objects on which it ontologically
depends. Consider as a representative example Richard's 2013
view of propositions as states of affairs. He identifies states of
affairs with ways for things to be. A way for things to be is, in
turn, identified by the things and the way these things need to be for
the way for things to be to be how things are. A way for things to be
is a property the world might have. The existence of this property
depends on the existence of the properties and particulars we need to
refer to in identifying it. If there is no Eiffel Tower, for example,
there is no way for the Eiffel Tower to be. Hence, states of affairs
ontologically depend on particulars and properties. Richard (2013:
704) goes a step further by saying that ontological dependence is
"a mark of mereological relations". Hence, states of
affairs should have constituent structure. But the additional claim
that states of affairs are (in some sense) wholes with parts does not
explain more than the ontological dependence claim. Rather the
opposite: it leads to the problems discussed above.



The notion of ontological dependence helps to articulate how states of
affairs are related to particulars and properties. But the ontological
dependence of states of affairs on properties and particulars is not
brute. It is because some properties are predicated of some objects
that (i) they form a state of affairs (ii) such that this state of
affairs depends on them and can be said to involve them. A fundamental
question about states of affairs concerns then the conditions of
predicability. We will come back to this question in section 6.3.


## 6. The Unity of a State of Affairs


### 6.1 The Unity-Problem



If one conceives of a state of affairs as complexes that
"contain" particulars and properties, one needs to answer
the unity-question "What unifies some particulars and properties
into one state of affairs?" An answer to this question should
distinguish states of affairs from other complexes. Frege pressed this
point in his letters to Wittgenstein:



> 
> 
> Is every connection of objects a state of affairs? Does it not also
> depend on how the connection is produced? What is the tie? Can this
> perhaps be gravitation, as with the system of planets? Is it [the
> system of planets] a state of affairs? (Frege 1919: 20, my
> translation)
> 
> 
> 



The solar system consists of the sun and the planets pulled into orbit
around it by gravity. If this does not qualify as a state of affairs
then there must be some relation independent of gravitation that
unites the things involved in a state of affairs. What distinguishes
this complex physical object from the state of affairs *the
sun's pulling the planets into orbit by gravity*? If the
latter contains the sun and the planets and the pulling-by gravity
relation, the distinction between the states of affairs and solar
system must lie in what unites their elements.



Russell argued that there is no plausible answer to the unity-question
for states of affairs (he called them "propositions"). He
explains his main worry about states of affairs as follows:



> 
> 
> Our disbelief in their [propositions'] reality may be reinforced
> by asking ourselves what kind of entity a false proposition could be.
> Let us take some very simple false proposition, say "*A*
> precedes *B*", when in fact *A* comes after *B*.
> It seems as though nothing were involved here beyond *A* and
> *B* and "preceding" and the general form of dual
> complexes. But since *A* does not precede *B*, these objects
> are not put together in the way indicated in the proposition. It
> seems, therefore, that nothing which is actually composed of these
> objects is the proposition; and it is not credible that anything
> further enters the proposition. (Russell 1913: 109-10; for a
> detailed discussion of this argument see Wetzel 1998)
> 
> 
> 



What unifies *A*, *B* and the relation of *Preceding*
to the fact that *A* precedes *B*? *A*'s actually
preceding *B*. What unifies *A*, *B* and the relation
of *Preceding* to the state of affairs **A*'s
preceding *B**? If *A* does not precede *B*, the
unity of the state of affairs cannot consist in *A* being
actually related by the preceding relation to *B*.



So far Russell has only shown that the unity of a state of affairs
**A*'s standing in *R* to *B** does not
consist in **A*'s* standing in *R* to *B*.
In addition, he has imposed a constraint on answers to the
unity-question. He says that it is not credible that there is a
unifying element that is not a constituent of the state of affairs.
Russell himself couldn't find an answer to the unity-question
that met his constraint. Hence, he tried to eliminate states of
affairs.


### 6.2 External Unification



While Russell does not refute the view that there are states of
affairs, he asks philosophers who believe in them a difficult
question. To see the force of the constraint he imposes on answers to
the unity-question consider a proposal that violates it. External
theories develop the following general idea (I take the
"external/internal" terminology from Vallicella 2000):



The state of affairs *a's being *F** exists if, and
only if, there is something distinct from *a*, *being
*F** and *a's being* *F* & it unifies
*a* and *being *F** to form *a's being*
*F*.



Roughly speaking, the external unifier can bring the constituents of
states of affairs together even if they don't constitute a fact.
A psychological version of the External Theory is proposed in
Valicella 2000. According to him, the external ground of unity is the
judging consciousness that brings about the unity of a state of
affairs (Valicella 2000: 252).



Russell, in turn, argued that a mental act cannot unify some things to
form a state of affairs:



> 
> 
> Suppose we wish to understand "*A* and *B* are
> similar". It is essential that our thought should, as is said,
> "unite" or "synthesize" the two terms and the
> relation; but we cannot *actually* "unite" them,
> since either *A* and *B* are similar, in which case they are
> already united, or they are dissimilar, in which case no amount of
> thinking can force them to be united. (Russell 1913: 116)
> 
> 
> 



Any mental activity seems simply to be unable to create unity where
none obtains already. If I think of *a* and *being
*F**, why should a new complex object consisting of them come
into existence? Russell himself goes on to suppose that the mind is
able to unite *A*, *B* and similarity with a logical form.
How the mind can have that ability goes unexplained.



The linguistic version of the External Theory takes states of affairs
to be descripta of sentences that owe their unity to the sentences
that describe them:



> 
> 
> The state of affairs **a*'s being* *F* exists
> if, and only if, there is a sentence of a language L (or an extension
> of L) that concatenates a singular term referring to *a* and a
> general term referring to *F*. (see Taylor 1985: 29ff; King 2009:
> 263)
> 
> 
> 



The linguistic version gives up on the view that states of affairs are
language independent (see King 2009: 259 who concedes this). There is
nothing in our intuitive notion of states of affairs that justifies
the assumption that states of affairs depend for their unity on the
existence of a language in which they are described. For example,
there will be a space of probable outcomes of an event whether there
are descriptions of them or not.



The criticism of the External Theory makes Russell's constraint
on an answer to the unity-question plausible. States of affairs are
conceived of as *sui generis* entities that do not owe their
unity and hence their identity to anything else.


### 6.3 Internal Unification



This brings us to Internal Theories that explain the unity of a state
of affairs merely by appealing to its constituents.



The state of affairs **a*'s being *F** exists
if, and only if, *a* or *being *F** or both unify the
state of affairs*.*



Ramsey describes (but does not endorse) the core of this view when he
says:



> 
> 
> [I]n every atomic fact there must be one constituent which is in its
> own nature incomplete or connective and, as it were, holds the other
> constituents together. (Ramsey 1925: 408)
> 
> 
> 



For Wittgenstein in his *Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus* there
is no designated connector in a state of affairs. All constituents are
incomplete and mutually complete each other:



> 
> 
> In a state of affairs objects fit into one another like the links in a
> chain. (Wittgenstein 1918: 2.03; Pears/McGuinness translation)
> 
> 
> 



So far we have only been given a necessary condition for the existence
of a state of affairs. Among the things that enter into a state of
affairs there must be at least one incomplete one. Wittgenstein will
require incompleteness or connectivity of all things that enter a
state of affairs.



The notion of incompleteness at work here is difficult to explain. But
one way to develop it is to propose that the incomplete and connecting
elements are functions. For example, the property *being*
*F* is conceived of as a function that takes a particular
*a* as argument and maps it to the state of affairs
**a*'s being* *F* (see Oliver 1992: 91). The
problems of the functional model of states of affairs are manifest in
the development of Frege's work. Frege 1879 held that sentences
stand for what he called "judgeable contents", complexes
composed of functions and objects. For Frege predication is the
application of a function to an object. Judgeable contents seem to be
nothing other than states of affairs. However, the idea that states of
affairs are complex does not sit happily with Frege's further
idea that the judgeable content **a*'s being*
*F* is the value of the function *F* for *a* as
argument.



Now different functions have the same value for different arguments.
For example, 3 is the value of the function *Square root of
*x** for 9 and the value of the function \(x+1\) for 2. Which
of these arguments and functions is contained in the value 3? Since
there is no principle that singles out one argument and function as
constituting the value, we should abandon either the functional model
of incompleteness or the idea that states of affairs have
constituents. Later Frege takes the second option:



> 
> 
> The references of the parts of a sentence are not parts of the
> reference of the sentence. (Frege 1910-14: 87)
> 
> 
> 



Since different functions can have the same value for different
arguments, Frege arrived at the view that a sentence that is either
true or false refers to its truth-value, the True or the False. Every
true (false) sentence has the same referent: the True (the False).
States of affairs have no place in the Fregean theory of reference.
The "case study" of Frege shows that the functional model
of incompleteness undermines the very idea that states of affairs are
complexes (for a reply to this argument see Gaskin 2008: 100).



The strategy to explain the unity of a state of affairs by using the
notion of incompleteness either only labels the problem or, if
incomplete elements are taken to be functions, threatens the very idea
of states of affairs. Can one dispense with the notion of
incompleteness in an answer to the unity-question?



The unity-question arises on a conception that takes states of affairs
to be ontologically dependent entities. Take the state of affairs
*Aristotle's being wise*. It ontologically depends on
Aristotle and *being wise.* So do the ordered pair
\(\langle\)Aristotle, *being wise*\(\rangle\) and the
mereological sum of Aristotle and *being wise*. What
distinguishes them? If we follow Fine, the answer will invoke an
operation that "generates" the entities in question.
States of affairs are generated by predication, ordered pairs by
another operation.



Now saying that something is predicated of something else sounds as if
the existence of a state of affairs depends on performing an act. But
this is a misunderstanding. Johnston explains:



> 
> 
> [P]redicability guarantees predication. Whenever *F*-ness is
> predicable of *a*, there will be something that is the
> predication of *F*-ness to *a*. (Johnston 2006: 684)
> 
> 
> 



All the interesting work is done by the notion of predicability:



The state of affairs **a*'s being* *F* exists
if, and only if, *being* *F* is predicable of
*a*.



When a property (relation) is predicable of some objects will be
determined by a number of principles (or axioms) (Johnston 2006: 685).
For example, particulars are not predicable of other particulars,
*n*-place properties are only predicable of *n* particulars.
It is part of the nature of the objects and properties on which a
state of affairs ontologically depends that the properties are
predicable of the objects. This brings us to a key thought of
Wittgenstein's theory of states of affairs. He wrote in the
*Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus*:



> 
> 
> 2.0123
>  If I know an object I also know all its possible occurrences in
> states of affairs. (Every one of these possibilities must be part of
> the nature of the object.) 
> 2.0214
>  If all objects are given, then at the same time all possible
> states of affairs are also given. 
> 
> 



The nature of particulars and properties determines whether the second
are predicable of the first or not. Wetzel (1998: 57) fills this
suggestion out in an informative way. An object may be in a range of
possible states due to its capacities. Given that the computer I am
writing on belongs to a particular kind there is a range of
possibilities for it to be: it might be broken, functioning well, be
turned off etc. Its capacities and, broadly speaking, its nature is
the "ontological ground of ranges of possible states of affairs
in which [it is a constituent]" (1998: 57). One should add that
the nature and capacities of an object also determine a range of
impossibilities such as the impossibility of my computer's
becoming a sentient being.



However, consider my computer's being to the left of my lamp.
This is a possibility for my computer, but it is a brute possibility
not grounded in its causal powers. Hence, the range of states of
affairs which contain a particular seems to be broader than the range
of states of affairs determined by its capacities.



If the property *being* *F* is predicable of the object
*a*, the state of affairs **a*'s being
*F** exists. Hence, states of affairs exist in virtue of the
nature of objects and properties. No unifying relation or operation in
addition to *a* and *being *F** is required. What
distinguishes states of affairs from other entities which
ontologically depend on the same properties and particulars is that
states of affairs exist because the properties are predicable of the
particulars.



This account assumes that if *being *F** is predicable of
*a*, there is a state of affairs **a*'s being
*F** that ontologically depends on them. This move carries
the problem posed by states of affairs to the right place: what are
the restrictions on predicability? If one has answered this question,
one has solved the unity problem for states of affairs.


## 7. Conclusion



Does one need states of affairs in addition to facts and thoughts?
Yes, there seem to be good reasons to posit states of affairs as a
*sui generis* category of object. If states of affairs are to
be useful (i) they must exist even if they do not obtain and (ii) must
involve objects and properties (relations) directly. (i) is the basic
feature that distinguishes states of affairs from facts; (ii) the
basic feature that distinguishes them from thoughts. Therefore a
theory of states of affairs must answer the question how a state of
affairs can "involve" objects and properties (relations)
and combine them, if the objects don't exemplify the properties
(stand in the relations). Although there are promising proposals to
answer it, this question is still open.


## Appendix: Some Historical Background



Smith (1992: 1103-4) traces state affairs like entities back to
Aristotle and medieval philosophers. Important contributions to the
theory of states of affairs were made in particular in Austro-German
Philosophy. Stumpf (1907: 29-30) claimed that the notion of
states of affairs was introduced in Franz Brentano's lectures on
logic (1870-1885). Brentano distinguished between a mental act,
its content and its object. When I think of Hesperus, my thinking, the
*act*, has a particular *content* in virtue of which it
is directed on the planet, the *object*. In his logic lectures
Brentano extended this distinction to judgements (Brentano
1870ff:13.020 [6]): when I judge that Hesperus is a planet, my judging
has a content and an object: the object is what is judged ("das
Geurteilte"). Stumpf (1907: 30) called the *content* of a
judgement "Sachverhalt". This term is now translated as
"state of affairs".  However, Stumpf's states
of affairs are rather close to thoughts or propositions (see also
Smith 1992, 1105). For example, Stumpf (1907: 30) likened states of
affairs to Bolzano's sentences-in-themselves. Sentences-in
themselves are supposed to be either true or false. This suggests that
states of affairs were also conceived as truth-value bearers by
Stumpf.



According to Adolf Reinach (1911: 374, Fn.),  Edmund Husserl, a
student of Brentano, was the first to clarify the significance and
distinctive nature of states of affairs. Husserl (1901: V SS17,
SS 18) took the object and not the content of a judgement to be a
state of affairs. Every judgement has a content, in Husserl
terminology "matter" (*Materie*) in virtue of which
it is directed on a state of affairs, its object. Different kinds of
mental act can be directed on the same state of affairs.  For
instance, when I wonder whether Rome was built in a day and when I
judge that Rome was built in a day, I am directed on the same state of
affairs, but once in the questioning, once in the assertoric mode. Can
judgements that differ in their matter be directed on the same state
of affairs? An answer to this question would help us to fix the
distinction between matter and content for judgements. But
Husserl's answer to this question is difficult to reconstruct.
Husserl 1900 connected states of affairs further to correct judgement,
probability and the laws of logic. For instance, a judgement is
supposed to be correct if, and only if, the state of affairs it is
directed on obtains (Husserl 1900: 13).



Reinach 1911 followed Husserl: states of affairs are the
"correlates" of judgement and assertion (See Meinertsen
2020 for a comparison between Reinach and Armstrongian states of
affairs). If, for instance, a particular rose exists, a range of
states of affairs exists that depend on the rose, whether they obtain
or not (see Reinach 1911: 340). If I judge that the rose is blue, I
judge incorrectly, because the judged state of affairs exists, but
does not obtain. The property of states of affairs to obtain or fail
to obtain distinguishes them from facts. As we have seen in section 2,
the "space" of states of affairs helps Reinach to clarify
the notions of modality and probability (see Reinach 1911:
339-40).  Reinach (1911: 338f) proposed, but did not argue
in detail, that states of affairs are the relata of the
ground-consequence relation. If an event *a* causes an event
*b*, the state of affairs that *a* occurs is the ground
of the state of affairs that *b* occurs. States of affairs
figure prominently in Wittgenstein's *Tractatus
Logico-Philosophicus*. Potter (2011, 106) speculates about the
influence of Austrian philosophers on Wittgenstein in this
respect.