Introduction to Mathematical Philosophy E-Book

Bertrand Russell

• Herausgeber: Charles River Editors
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 370

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Bertrand Russell (1872 1970) was a British philosopher, mathematician, social critic, and political activist. Russell is considered to be one of the founders of analytic philosophy and one of the most important mathematicians and logicians in the 20th century. This edition of Russells Introduction to Mathematical Philosophy includes a table of contents.

Leseprobe

Introduction to Mathematical Philosophy

PREFACE

(page v)

This book is intended essentially as an “Introduction,” and does not aim at giving an exhaustive discussion of the problems with which it deals. It seemed desirable to set forth certain results, hitherto only available to those who have mastered logical symbolism, in a form offering the minimum of difficulty to the beginner. The utmost endeavour has been made to avoid dogmatism on such questions as are still open to serious doubt, and this endeavour has to some extent dominated the choice of topics considered. The beginnings of mathematical logic are less definitely known than its later portions, but are of at least equal philosophical interest. Much of what is set forth in the following chapters is not properly to be called “philosophy,” though the matters concerned were included in philosophy so long as no satisfactory science of them existed. The nature of infinity and continuity, for example, belonged in former days to philosophy, but belongs now to mathematics. Mathematical philosophy, in the strict sense, cannot, perhaps, be held to include such definite scientific results as have been obtained in this region; the philosophy of mathematics will naturally be expected to deal with questions on the frontier of knowledge, as to which comparative certainty is not yet attained. But speculation on such questions is hardly likely to be fruitful unless the more scientific parts of the principles of mathematics are known. A book dealing with those parts may, therefore, claim to be anintroduction to mathematical philosophy, though it can hardly claim, except where it steps outside its province, to be actually dealing with a part of philosophy. It does deal, (page vi) however, with a body of knowledge which, to those who accept it, appears to invalidate much traditional philosophy, and even a good deal of what is current in the present day. In this way, as well as by its bearing on still unsolved problems, mathematical logic is relevant to philosophy. For this reason, as well as on account of the intrinsic importance of the subject, some purpose may be served by a succinct account of the main results of mathematical logic in a form requiring neither a knowledge of mathematics nor an aptitude for mathematical symbolism. Here, however, as elsewhere, the method is more important than the results, from the point of view of further research; and the method cannot well be explained within the framework of such a book as the following. It is to be hoped that some readers may be sufficiently interested to advance to a study of the method by which mathematical logic can be made helpful in investigating the traditional problems of philosophy. But that is a topic with which the following pages have not attempted to deal.

BERTRAND RUSSELL.

EDITOR'S NOTE

(page vii)

(The note below was written by J. H. Muirhead, LL.D., editor of the Library of Philosophy series in which Introduction to Mathematical Philosophy was originally published.)

Those who, relying on the distinction between Mathematical Philosophy and the Philosophy of Mathematics, think that this book is out of place in the present Library, may be referred to what the author himself says on this head in the Preface. It is not necessary to agree with what he there suggests as to the readjustment of the field of philosophy by the transference from it to mathematics of such problems as those of class, continuity, infinity, in order to perceive the bearing of the definitions and discussions that follow on the work of “traditional philosophy.” If philosophers cannot consent to relegate the criticism of these categories to any of the special sciences, it is essential, at any rate, that they should know the precise meaning that the science of mathematics, in which these concepts play so large a part, assigns to them. If, on the other hand, there be mathematicians to whom these definitions and discussions seem to be an elaboration and complication of the simple, it may be well to remind them from the side of philosophy that here, as elsewhere, apparent simplicity may conceal a complexity which it is the business of somebody, whether philosopher or mathematician, or, like the author of this volume, both in one, to unravel.

CHAPTER I: THE SERIES OF NATURAL NUMBERS

(page 1)

Mathematics is a study which, when we start from its most familiar portions, may be pursued in either of two opposite directions. The more familiar direction is constructive, towards gradually increasing complexity: from integers to fractions, real numbers, complex numbers; from addition and multiplication to differentiation and integration, and on to higher mathematics. The other direction, which is less familiar, proceeds, by analysing, to greater and greater abstractness and logical simplicity; instead of asking what can be defined and deduced from what is assumed to begin with, we ask instead what more general ideas and principles can be found, in terms of which what was our starting-point can be defined or deduced. It is the fact of pursuing this opposite direction that characterises mathematical philosophy as opposed to ordinary mathematics. But it should be understood that the distinction is one, not in the subject matter, but in the state of mind of the investigator. Early Greek geometers, passing from the empirical rules of Egyptian land-surveying to the general propositions by which those rules were found to be justifiable, and thence to Euclid’s axioms and postulates, were engaged in mathematical philosophy, according to the above definition; but when once the axioms and postulates had been reached, their deductive employment, as we find it in Euclid, belonged to mathematics in the(page 2) ordinary sense. The distinction between mathematics and mathematical philosophy is one which depends upon the interest inspiring the research, and upon the stage which the research has reached; not upon the propositions with which the research is concerned.

We may state the same distinction in another way. The most obvious and easy things in mathematics are not those that come logically at the beginning; they are things that, from the point of view of logical deduction, come somewhere in the middle. Just as the easiest bodies to see are those that are neither very near nor very far, neither very small nor very great, so the easiest conceptions to grasp are those that are neither very complex nor very simple (using “simple” in a logical sense). And as we need two sorts of instruments, the telescope and the microscope, for the enlargement of our visual powers, so we need two sorts of instruments for the enlargement of our logical powers, one to take us forward to the higher mathematics, the other to take us backward to the logical foundations of the things that we are inclined to take for granted in mathematics. We shall find that by analysing our ordinary mathematical notions we acquire fresh insight, new powers, and the means of reaching whole new mathematical subjects by adopting fresh lines of advance after our backward journey. It is the purpose of this book to explain mathematical philosophy simply and untechnically, without enlarging upon those portions which are so doubtful or difficult that an elementary treatment is scarcely possible. A full treatment will be found in Principia Mathematica;1 the treatment in the present volume is intended merely as an introduction.

To the average educated person of the present day, the obvious starting-point of mathematics would be the series of whole numbers,

1, 2, 3, 4, … etc.

(page 3)

Probably only a person with some mathematical knowledge would think of beginning with 0 instead of with 1, but we will presume this degree of knowledge; we will take as our starting-point the series:

0, 1, 2, 3, … n, n+1, …

and it is this series that we shall mean when we speak of the “series of natural numbers.”

It is only at a high stage of civilisation that we could take this series as our starting-point. It must have required many ages to discover that a brace of pheasants and a couple of days were both instances of the number 2: the degree of abstraction involved is far from easy. And the discovery that 1 is a number must have been difficult. As for 0, it is a very recent addition; the Greeks and Romans had no such digit. If we had been embarking upon mathematical philosophy in earlier days, we should have had to start with something less abstract than the series of natural numbers, which we should reach as a stage on our backward journey. When the logical foundations of mathematics have grown more familiar, we shall be able to start further back, at what is now a late stage in our analysis. But for the moment the natural numbers seem to represent what is easiest and most familiar in mathematics.

But though familiar, they are not understood. Very few people are prepared with a definition of what is meant by “number,” or “0,” or “1.” It is not very difficult to see that, starting from 0, any other of the natural numbers can be reached by repeated additions of 1, but we shall have to define what we mean by “adding 1,” and what we mean by “repeated.” These questions are by no means easy. It was believed until recently that some, at least, of these first notions of arithmetic must be accepted as too simple and primitive to be defined. Since all terms that are defined are defined by means of other terms, it is clear that human knowledge must always be content to accept some terms as intelligible without definition, in order (page 4) to have a starting-point for its definitions. It is not clear that there must be terms which areincapable of definition: it is possible that, however far back we go in defining, we always might go further still. On the other hand, it is also possible that, when analysis has been pushed far enough, we can reach terms that really are simple, and therefore logically incapable of the sort of definition that consists in analysing. This is a question which it is not necessary for us to decide; for our purposes it is sufficient to observe that, since human powers are finite, the definitions known to us must always begin somewhere, with terms undefined for the moment, though perhaps not permanently.

All traditional pure mathematics, including analytical geometry, may be regarded as consisting wholly of propositions about the natural numbers. That is to say, the terms which occur can be defined by means of the natural numbers, and the propositions can be deduced from the properties of the natural numbers—with the addition, in each case, of the ideas and propositions of pure logic.

That all traditional pure mathematics can be derived from the natural numbers is a fairly recent discovery, though it had long been suspected. Pythagoras, who believed that not only mathematics, but everything else could be deduced from numbers, was the discoverer of the most serious obstacle in the way of what is called the “arithmetising” of mathematics. It was Pythagoras who discovered the existence of incommensurables, and, in particular, the incommensurability of the side of a square and the diagonal. If the length of the side is 1 inch, the number of inches in the diagonal is the square root of 2, which appeared not to be a number at all. The problem thus raised was solved only in our own day, and was only solved completelyby the help of the reduction of arithmetic to logic, which will be explained in following chapters. For the present, we shall take for granted the arithmetisation of mathematics, though this was a feat of the very greatest importance.

(page 5)

Having reduced all traditional pure mathematics to the theory of the natural numbers, the next step in logical analysis was to reduce this theory itself to the smallest set of premisses and undefined terms from which it could be derived. This work was accomplished by Peano. He showed that the entire theory of the natural numbers could be derived from three primitive ideas and five primitive propositions in addition to those of pure logic. These three ideas and five propositions thus became, as it were, hostages for the whole of traditional pure mathematics. If they could be defined and proved in terms of others, so could all pure mathematics. Their logical “weight,” if one may use such an expression, is equal to that of the whole series of sciences that have been deduced from the theory of the natural numbers; the truth of this whole series is assured if the truth of the five primitive propositions is guaranteed, provided, of course, that there is nothing erroneous in the purely logical apparatus which is also involved. The work of analysing mathematics is extraordinarily facilitated by this work of Peano’s.

The three primitive ideas in Peano’s arithmetic are:

0, number, successor.

By “successor” he means the next number in the natural order. That is to say, the successor of 0 is 1, the successor of 1 is 2, and so on. By “number” he means, in this connection, the class of the natural numbers.2 He is not assuming that we know all the members of this class, but only that we know what we mean when we say that this or that is a number, just as we know what we mean when we say “Jones is a man,” though we do not know all men individually.

The five primitive propositions which Peano assumes are:

(1) 0 is a number.

(2) The successor of any number is a number.

(3) No two numbers have the same successor.

(page 6)

(4) 0 is not the successor of any number.

(5) Any property which belongs to 0, and also to the successor of every number which has the property, belongs to all numbers.

The last of these is the principle of mathematical induction. We shall have much to say concerning mathematical induction in the sequel; for the present, we are concerned with it only as it occurs in Peano’s analysis of arithmetic.

Let us consider briefly the kind of way in which the theory of the natural numbers results from these three ideas and five propositions. To begin with, we define 1 as “the successor of 0,” 2 as “the successor of 1,” and so on. We can obviously go on as long as we like with these definitions, since, in virtue of (2), every number that we reach will have a successor, and, in virtue of (3), this cannot be any of the numbers already defined, because, if it were, two different numbers would have the same successor; and in virtue of (4) none of the numbers we reach in the series of successors can be 0. Thus the series of successors gives us an endless series of continually new numbers. In virtue of (5) all numbers come in this series, which begins with 0 and travels on through successive successors: for (a) 0 belongs to this series, and (b) if a number n belongs to it, so does its successor, whence, by mathematical induction, every number belongs to the series.

Suppose we wish to define the sum of two numbers. Taking any number m, we define m+0 as m, and m+(n+1) as the successor of m+n. In virtue of (5) this gives a definition of the sum of m and n, whatever number n may be. Similarly we can define the product of any two numbers. The reader can easily convince himself that any ordinary elementary proposition of arithmetic can be proved by means of our five premisses, and if he has any difficulty he can find the proof in Peano.

It is time now to turn to the considerations which make it necessary to advance beyond the standpoint of Peano, who (page 7) represents the last perfection of the “arithmetisation” of mathematics, to that of Frege, who first succeeded in “logicising” mathematics, i.e. in reducing to logic the arithmetical notions which his predecessors had shown to be sufficient for mathematics. We shall not, in this chapter, actually give Frege’s definition of number and of particular numbers, but we shall give some of the reasons why Peano’s treatment is less final than it appears to be.

In the first place, Peano’s three primitive ideas—namely, “0,” “number,” and “successor”—are capable of an infinite number of different interpretations, all of which will satisfy the five primitive propositions. We will give some examples.

(1) Let “0” be taken to mean 100, and let “number” be taken to mean the numbers from 100 onward in the series of natural numbers. Then all our primitive propositions are satisfied, even the fourth, for, though 100 is the successor of 99, 99 is not a “number” in the sense which we are now giving to the word “number.” It is obvious that any number may be substituted for 100 in this example.

(2) Let “0” have its usual meaning, but let “number” mean what we usually call “even numbers,” and let the “successor” of a number be what results from adding two to it. Then “1” will stand for the number two, “2” will stand for the number four, and so on; the series of “numbers” now will be

0, two, four, six, eight …

All Peano’s five premisses are satisfied still.

(3) Let “0” mean the number one, let “number” mean the set

1, 1/2, 1/4, 1/8, 1/16, …

and let “successor” mean “half.” Then all Peano’s five axioms will be true of this set.

It is clear that such examples might be multiplied indefinitely. In fact, given any series

x0, x1, x2, x3, … xn, …

(page 8)

which is endless, contains no repetitions, has a beginning, and has no terms that cannot be reached from the beginning in a finite number of steps, we have a set of terms verifying Peano’s axioms. This is easily seen, though the formal proof is somewhat long. Let “0” mean x0, let “number” mean the whole set of terms, and let the “successor” of xn mean xn+1. Then

(1) “0 is a number,” i.e. x0 is a member of the set.

(2) “The successor of any number is a number,” i.e. taking any term xn in the set, xn+1 is also in the set.

(3) “No two numbers have the same successor,” i.e. if xm and xn are two different members of the set, xm+1 and xn+1 are different; this results from the fact that (by hypothesis) there are no repetitions in the set.

(4) “0 is not the successor of any number,” i.e. no term in the set comes beforex0.

(5) This becomes: Any property which belongs to x0, and belongs to xn+1provided it belongs to xn, belongs to all the x’s.

This follows from the corresponding property for numbers.

A series of the form

x0, x1, x2, … xn, …

in which there is a first term, a successor to each term (so that there is no last term), no repetitions, and every term can be reached from the start in a finite number of steps, is called a progression. Progressions are of great importance in the principles of mathematics. As we have just seen, every progression verifies Peano’s five axioms. It can be proved, conversely, that every series which verifies Peano’s five axioms is a progression. Hence these five axioms may be used to define the class of progressions: “progressions” are “those series which verify these five axioms.” Any progression may be taken as the basis of pure mathematics: we may give the name “0” to its first term, the name “number” to the whole set of its terms, and the name “successor” to the next in the progression. The progression need not be composed of numbers: it may be (page 9) composed of points in space, or moments of time, or any other terms of which there is an infinite supply. Each different progression will give rise to a different interpretation of all the propositions of traditional pure mathematics; all these possible interpretations will be equally true.

In Peano’s system there is nothing to enable us to distinguish between these different interpretations of his primitive ideas. It is assumed that we know what is meant by “0,” and that we shall not suppose that this symbol means 100 or Cleopatra’s Needle or any of the other things that it might mean.

This point, that “0” and “number” and “successor” cannot be defined by means of Peano’s five axioms, but must be independently understood, is important. We want our numbers not merely to verify mathematical formulæ, but to apply in the right way to common objects. We want to have ten fingers and two eyes and one nose. A system in which “1” meant 100, and “2” meant 101, and so on, might be all right for pure mathematics, but would not suit daily life. We want “0” and “number” and “successor” to have meanings which will give us the right allowance of fingers and eyes and noses. We have already some knowledge (though not sufficiently articulate or analytic) of what we mean by “1” and “2” and so on, and our use of numbers in arithmetic must conform to this knowledge. We cannot secure that this shall be the case by Peano’s method; all that we can do, if we adopt his method, is to say “we know what we mean by ‘0’ and ‘number’ and ‘successor,’ though we cannot explain what we mean in terms of other simpler concepts.” It is quite legitimate to say this when we must, and at some point we all must; but it is the object of mathematical philosophy to put off saying it as long as possible. By the logical theory of arithmetic we are able to put it off for a very long time.

It might be suggested that, instead of setting up “0” and “number” and “successor” as terms of which we know the meaning although we cannot define them, we might let them (page 10) stand for any three terms that verify Peano’s five axioms. They will then no longer be terms which have a meaning that is definite though undefined: they will be “variables,” terms concerning which we make certain hypotheses, namely, those stated in the five axioms, but which are otherwise undetermined. If we adopt this plan, our theorems will not be proved concerning an ascertained set of terms called “the natural numbers,” but concerning all sets of terms having certain properties. Such a procedure is not fallacious; indeed for certain purposes it represents a valuable generalisation. But from two points of view it fails to give an adequate basis for arithmetic. In the first place, it does not enable us to know whether there are any sets of terms verifying Peano’s axioms; it does not even give the faintest suggestion of any way of discovering whether there are such sets. In the second place, as already observed, we want our numbers to be such as can be used for counting common objects, and this requires that our numbers should have adefinite meaning, not merely that they should have certain formal properties. This definite meaning is defined by the logical theory of arithmetic.

Chapter I notes

1. Cambridge University Press, vol. i., 1910; vol. ii., 1912; vol. iii., 1913. By Whitehead and Russell.

2. We shall use “number” in this sense in the present chapter. Afterwards the word will be used in a more general sense.

CHAPTER II: DEFINITION OF NUMBER

(page 11)

The question “What is a number?” is one which has been often asked, but has only been correctly answered in our own time. The answer was given by Frege in 1884, in his Grundlagen der Arithmetik.1 Although this book is quite short, not difficult, and of the very highest importance, it attracted almost no attention, and the definition of number which it contains remained practically unknown until it was rediscovered by the present author in 1901.

In seeking a definition of number, the first thing to be clear about is what we may call the grammar of our inquiry. Many philosophers, when attempting to define number, are really setting to work to define plurality, which is quite a different thing.Number is what is characteristic of numbers, as man is what is characteristic of men. A plurality is not an instance of number, but of some particular number. A trio of men, for example, is an instance of the number 3, and the number 3 is an instance of number; but the trio is not an instance of number. This point may seem elementary and scarcely worth mentioning; yet it has proved too subtle for the philosophers, with few exceptions.

A particular number is not identical with any collection of terms having that number: the number 3 is not identical with (page 12) the trio consisting of Brown, Jones, and Robinson. The number 3 is something which all trios have in common, and which distinguishes them from other collections. A number is something that characterises certain collections, namely, those that have that number.

Instead of speaking of a “collection,” we shall as a rule speak of a “class,” or sometimes a “set.” Other words used in mathematics for the same thing are “aggregate” and “manifold.” We shall have much to say later on about classes. For the present, we will say as little as possible. But there are some remarks that must be made immediately.

A class or collection may be defined in two ways that at first sight seem quite distinct. We may enumerate its members, as when we say, “The collection I mean is Brown, Jones, and Robinson.” Or we may mention a defining property, as when we speak of “mankind” or “the inhabitants of London.” The definition which enumerates is called a definition by “extension,” and the one which mentions a defining property is called a definition by “intension.” Of these two kinds of definition, the one by intension is logically more fundamental. This is shown by two considerations: (1) that the extensional definition can always be reduced to an intensional one; (2) that the intensional one often cannot even theoretically be reduced to the extensional one. Each of these points needs a word of explanation.

(1) Brown, Jones, and Robinson all of them possess a certain property which is possessed by nothing else in the whole universe, namely, the property of being either Brown or Jones or Robinson. This property can be used to give a definition by intension of the class consisting of Brown and Jones and Robinson. Consider such a formula as “x is Brown or x is Jones or x is Robinson.” This formula will be true for just three x’s, namely, Brown and Jones and Robinson. In this respect it resembles a cubic equation with its three roots. It may be taken as assigning a property common to the members of the class consisting of these three (page 13) men, and peculiar to them. A similar treatment can obviously be applied to any other class given in extension.

(2) It is obvious that in practice we can often know a great deal about a class without being able to enumerate its members. No one man could actually enumerate all men, or even all the inhabitants of London, yet a great deal is known about each of these classes. This is enough to show that definition by extension is not necessary to knowledge about a class. But when we come to consider infinite classes, we find that enumeration is not even theoretically possible for beings who only live for a finite time. We cannot enumerate all the natural numbers: they are 0, 1, 2, 3, and so on. At some point we must content ourselves with “and so on.” We cannot enumerate all fractions or all irrational numbers, or all of any other infinite collection. Thus our knowledge in regard to all such collections can only be derived from a definition by intension.

These remarks are relevant, when we are seeking the definition of number, in three different ways. In the first place, numbers themselves form an infinite collection, and cannot therefore be defined by enumeration. In the second place, the collections having a given number of terms themselves presumably form an infinite collection: it is to be presumed, for example, that there are an infinite collection of trios in the world, for if this were not the case the total number of things in the world would be finite, which, though possible, seems unlikely. In the third place, we wish to define “number” in such a way that infinite numbers may be possible; thus we must be able to speak of the number of terms in an infinite collection, and such a collection must be defined by intension, i.e. by a property common to all its members and peculiar to them.

For many purposes, a class and a defining characteristic of it are practically interchangeable. The vital difference between the two consists in the fact that there is only one class having a given set of members, whereas there are always many different characteristics by which a given class may be defined. Men (page 14) may be defined as featherless bipeds, or as rational animals, or (more correctly) by the traits by which Swift delineates the Yahoos. It is this fact that a defining characteristic is never unique which makes classes useful; otherwise we could be content with the properties common and peculiar to their members.2 Any one of these properties can be used in place of the class whenever uniqueness is not important.

Returning now to the definition of number, it is clear that number is a way of bringing together certain collections, namely, those that have a given number of terms. We can suppose all couples in one bundle, all trios in another, and so on. In this way we obtain various bundles of collections, each bundle consisting of all the collections that have a certain number of terms. Each bundle is a class whose members are collections, i.e. classes; thus each is a class of classes. The bundle consisting of all couples, for example, is a class of classes: each couple is a class with two members, and the whole bundle of couples is a class with an infinite number of members, each of which is a class of two members.

How shall we decide whether two collections are to belong to the same bundle? The answer that suggests itself is: “Find out how many members each has, and put them in the same bundle if they have the same number of members.” But this presupposes that we have defined numbers, and that we know how to discover how many terms a collection has. We are so used to the operation of counting that such a presupposition might easily pass unnoticed. In fact, however, counting, though familiar, is logically a very complex operation; moreover it is only available, as a means of discovering how many terms a collection has, when the collection is finite. Our definition of number must not assume in advance that all numbers are finite; and we cannot in any case, without a vicious circle, (page 15) use counting to define numbers, because numbers are used in counting. We need, therefore, some other method of deciding when two collections have the same number of terms.

In actual fact, it is simpler logically to find out whether two collections have the same number of terms than it is to define what that number is. An illustration will make this clear. If there were no polygamy or polyandry anywhere in the world, it is clear that the number of husbands living at any moment would be exactly the same as the number of wives. We do not need a census to assure us of this, nor do we need to know what is the actual number of husbands and of wives. We know the number must be the same in both collections, because each husband has one wife and each wife has one husband. The relation of husband and wife is what is called “one-one.”

A relation is said to be “one-one” when, if x has the relation in question to y, no other term x’ has the same relation to y, and x does not have the same relation to any term y’ other than y. When only the first of these two conditions is fulfilled, the relation is called “one-many”; when only the second is fulfilled, it is called “many-one.” It should be observed that the number 1 is not used in these definitions.

In Christian countries, the relation of husband to wife is one-one; in Mahometan countries it is one-many; in Tibet it is many-one. The relation of father to son is one-many; that of son to father is many-one, but that of eldest son to father is one-one. Ifn is any number, the relation of n to n+1 is one-one; so is the relation of n to 2n or to 3n. When we are considering only positive numbers, the relation of n to n2 is one-one; but when negative numbers are admitted, it becomes two-one, since n and −nhave the same square. These instances should suffice to make clear the notions of one-one, one-many, and many-one relations, which play a great part in the principles of mathematics, not only in relation to the definition of numbers, but in many other connections.

Two classes are said to be “similar” when there is a one-one (page 16) relation which correlates the terms of the one class each with one term of the other class, in the same manner in which the relation of marriage correlates husbands with wives. A few preliminary definitions will help us to state this definition more precisely. The class of those terms that have a given relation to something or other is called thedomain of that relation: thus fathers are the domain of the relation of father to child, husbands are the domain of the relation of husband to wife, wives are the domain of the relation of wife to husband, and husbands and wives together are the domain of the relation of marriage. The relation of wife to husband is called the converse of the relation of husband to wife. Similarly less is the converse of greater, later is the converse of earlier, and so on. Generally, the converse of a given relation is that relation which holds between y and x whenever the given relation holds between xand y. The converse domain of a relation is the domain of its converse: thus the class of wives is the converse domain of the relation of husband to wife. We may now state our definition of similarity as follows:—

One class is said to be “similar” to another when there is a one-one relation of which the one class is the domain, while the other is the converse domain.

It is easy to prove (1) that every class is similar to itself, (2) that if a class α is similar to a class β, then β is similar to α, (3) that if α is similar to β and β to γ, then α is similar to γ. A relation is said to be reflexive when it possesses the first of these properties, symmetrical when it possesses the second, and transitive when it possesses the third. It is obvious that a relation which is symmetrical and transitive must be reflexive throughout its domain. Relations which possess these properties are an important kind, and it is worth while to note that similarity is one of this kind of relations.

It is obvious to common sense that two finite classes have the same number of terms if they are similar, but not otherwise. The act of counting consists in establishing a one-one correlation (page 17) between the set of objects counted and the natural numbers (excluding 0) that are used up in the process. Accordingly common sense concludes that there are as many objects in the set to be counted as there are numbers up to the last number used in the counting. And we also know that, so long as we confine ourselves to finite numbers, there are just n numbers from 1 up to n. Hence it follows that the last number used in counting a collection is the number of terms in the collection, provided the collection is finite. But this result, besides being only applicable to finite collections, depends upon and assumes the fact that two classes which are similar have the same number of terms; for what we do when we count (say) 10 objects is to show that the set of these objects is similar to the set of numbers 1 to 10. The notion of similarity is logically presupposed in the operation of counting, and is logically simpler though less familiar. In counting, it is necessary to take the objects counted in a certain order, as first, second, third, etc., but order is not of the essence of number: it is an irrelevant addition, an unnecessary complication from the logical point of view. The notion of similarity does not demand an order: for example, we saw that the number of husbands is the same as the number of wives, without having to establish an order of precedence among them. The notion of similarity also does not require that the classes which are similar should be finite. Take, for example, the natural numbers (excluding 0) on the one hand, and the fractions which have 1 for their numerator on the other hand: it is obvious that we can correlate 2 with 1/2, 3 with 1/3, and so on, thus proving that the two classes are similar.

We may thus use the notion of “similarity” to decide when two collections are to belong to the same bundle, in the sense in which we were asking this question earlier in this chapter. We want to make one bundle containing the class that has no members: this will be for the number 0. Then we want a bundle of all the classes that have one member: this will be for the number 1. Then, for the number 2, we want a bundle consisting (page 18) of all couples; then one of all trios; and so on. Given any collection, we can define the bundle it is to belong to as being the class of all those collections that are “similar” to it. It is very easy to see that if (for example) a collection has three members, the class of all those collections that are similar to it will be the class of trios. And whatever number of terms a collection may have, those collections that are “similar” to it will have the same number of terms. We may take this as a definition of “having the same number of terms.” It is obvious that it gives results conformable to usage so long as we confine ourselves to finite collections.

So far we have not suggested anything in the slightest degree paradoxical. But when we come to the actual definition of numbers we cannot avoid what must at first sight seem a paradox, though this impression will soon wear off. We naturally think that the class of couples (for example) is something different from the number 2. But there is no doubt about the class of couples: it is indubitable and not difficult to define, whereas the number 2, in any other sense, is a metaphysical entity about which we can never feel sure that it exists or that we have tracked it down. It is therefore more prudent to content ourselves with the class of couples, which we are sure of, than to hunt for a problematical number 2 which must always remain elusive. Accordingly we set up the following definition:—

The number of a class is the class of all those classes that are similar to it.

Thus the number of a couple will be the class of all couples. In fact, the class of all couples will be the number 2, according to our definition. At the expense of a little oddity, this definition secures definiteness and indubitableness; and it is not difficult to prove that numbers so defined have all the properties that we expect numbers to have.

We may now go on to define numbers in general as any one of the bundles into which similarity collects classes. A number will be a set of classes such as that any two are similar to each (page 19) other, and none outside the set are similar to any inside the set. In other words, a number (in general) is any collection which is the number of one of its members; or, more simply still:

A number is anything which is the number of some class.

Such a definition has a verbal appearance of being circular, but in fact it is not. We define “the number of a given class” without using the notion of number in general; therefore we may define number in general in terms of “the number of a given class” without committing any logical error.

Definitions of this sort are in fact very common. The class of fathers, for example, would have to be defined by first defining what it is to be the father of somebody; then the class of fathers will be all those who are somebody’s father. Similarly if we want to define square numbers (say), we must first define what we mean by saying that one number is the square of another, and then define square numbers as those that are the squares of other numbers. This kind of procedure is very common, and it is important to realise that it is legitimate and even often necessary.

We have now given a definition of numbers which will serve for finite collections. It remains to be seen how it will serve for infinite collections. But first we must decide what we mean by “finite” and “infinite,” which cannot be done within the limits of the present chapter.

Chapter II notes

1. The same answer is given more fully and with more development in hisGrundgesetze der Arithmetik, vol. i., 1893.

2. As will be explained later, classes may be regarded as logical fictions, manufactured out of defining characteristics. But for the present it will simplify our exposition to treat classes as if they were real.

CHAPTER III: FINITUDE AND MATHEMATICAL INDUCTION

(page 20)

The series of natural numbers, as we saw in Chapter I., can all be defined if we know what we mean by the three terms “0,” “number,” and “successor.” But we may go a step farther: we can define all the natural numbers if we know what we mean by “0” and “successor.” It will help us to understand the difference between finite and infinite to see how this can be done, and why the method by which it is done cannot be extended beyond the finite. We will not yet consider how “0” and “successor” are to be defined: we will for the moment assume that we know what these terms mean, and show how thence all other natural numbers can be obtained.

It is easy to see that we can reach any assigned number, say 30,000. We first define “1” as “the successor of 0,” then we define “2” as “the successor of 1,” and so on. In the case of an assigned number, such as 30,000, the proof that we can reach it by proceeding step by step in this fashion may be made, if we have the patience, by actual experiment: we can go on until we actually arrive at 30,000. But although the method of experiment is available for each particular natural number, it is not available for proving the general proposition that all such numbers can be reached in this way, i.e. by proceeding from 0 step by step from each number to its successor. Is there any other way by which this can be proved?