TL;DR: After re-examining my earlier stance on collapsing the belief/knowledge distinction, I've come to realize through Wittgenstein's "meaning as use" that these terms hold distinct meanings based on their contextual applications in language. Embracing this understanding, I now see that preserving the distinction is essential for meaningful communication and continued dialogue.
Nine days ago, I made a post about how, when observed closely, the distinction between belief and knowledge is pragmatically useless at best and incoherent as worst. The reasoning was that what we call “knowledge” is only what we believe to be true—if we do not have a belief, we do not consider it to be “knowledge” or “truth”.
The user cubefox made points focusing on how “knowledge”, “belief”, “truth”, “justification”, and “verification” are defined differently by other philosophers, to which I rebutted by appealing to the quasi-skeptical, almost solipsistic, argument that, if what is primary is a subjects individual experience, then the collapsing of the distinction holds because whatever evidence/proof there may be to a belief, it can only be confirmed via other beliefs one already holds (ex. “I say my hand is there because I believe in the accuracy of my perception because I…).
I now see, albeit imperfectly, that the cubefox’s rebuttal has more merit than I first believed due to his appeal to how the words are used. As such, I will use cubefox’s position as a springboard to provide a counter argument of my own towards my own position.
For a large class of cases-though not for all-in which we employ the word "meaning" it can be defined thus: the meaning of a word is its use in the language. (Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations §43)
Rather than solving the problem of belief/knowledge, the problem can be dissolved. How? Through Wittgenstein’s theory of “meaning as use”.
This can be best illustrated with the example of the different uses of the word “milk”.
Imagine I am in front of the counter in a French café (commonly regarded by the locals—not the tourists as the best café in Paris). I am asked by the clerk what I would like to order and I tell them I want an Café Americano (this is a nice Parisian, so they are not angry that I default to English). Then they ask me: “Anything else?”, and I reply with “Milk”.
After ordering, I sit down at the table, and patiently await my Americano and glass of milk. The Americano comes, but not the milk. I am annoyed, but I tolerate the distress. I continue sitting and watching the passersby. Before I know it, 30 minutes have passed, and I am about to miss an important meeting. Close to outrage, I act like I imagine an angry Parisian to be and yell “MILK!” The poor clerk remembers my order and promptly gives it to me, embarrassed. I then go on my way, leaving a tip to show I will not hold a grudge.
With this example, it is clear that the use of the same word “milk” is being used in different ways, and, as such, mean different things. For the first use, the meaning could be described as “a clarification of my desires for a particular beverage so I can both pay and be served it”. The later use is much different: “I want a particular beverage right now because you have failed as a server”.
“Milk” is a response to a question, “MILK!” is a demand. Therefore, they have different uses which give the word two different meanings, even though they are the same word.
The further implication is at once poetic and almost devastating: there is no one true and final “milk”. Rather, the meaning of “milk” changes depending on the particular use of that word, and which word is prioritized in discourse is dependent on context.
This dissolves various issues in philosophy. Questions like “Who is God?” or “What is science?” are confusing language for something it is not. “God” and “science” is a word we use in multiple contexts to communicate different things. These differences constitute differences in meanings, and individuals are instructed in the different meanings through their interaction with other human beings. As such, the meaning of words are both use-dependent and irreducibly social—that is, communication occurs insofar as the different uses of the word are understood by other people. To speak words in uses hitherto unintroduced way is to not communicate.
Seen in the lens of Wittgenstein and Ordinary Language philosophy, my collapsing of the distinction between “belief” and “knowledge” was an attempt to find “true” meanings of the words beyond use. “Belief” and “knowledge” do not mean the same thing. “Belief” is used to illustrate statements on the nature of the world which one is not entirely sure of, but will hold anyways. Meanwhile, “knowledge” is used to express the confidence of a statement beyond doubt and often inviting counter-arguments which the person claiming “knowledge” believes can be argued against.
Ironically, in trying to collapse the belief/knowledge distinction, I am distinguishing the words themselves from the ways everyone else uses them. The result is playing two different language-games, where my particular language-game rests on a private language—a language which no one but myself (and a handful of people) hold. Creating such a radically new meaning of the terms introduces a new use, but for what purpose? Usually, such new uses are created in order to make the other side incapable of arguing against it—after all, how could they if the new use of the word essentially proves its own legitimacy? Stepping away from the impassioned debate, though, one can see that the new use is really just separating the person from the broader conversation, making communication impossible.
The dissolution of this argument is not a refutation of it, merely a discounting of it as adding anything useful. This polemic of uselessness is a curious one. My original argument was in the vein of pragmatism spearheaded by Stanley Fish, Steven Knapp, and Walter Benn Michaels. Oddly enough, a different type of pragmatism (a la Richard Rorty) can argue against theirs by virtue of their positions being unpragmatic: that is, it destroys distinctions that already serve particular purposes which, thus far, contribute to the goals we (I) already have. As such, it is pragmatic to abandon that pragmatism, so long as our own values and goals are not being achieved or, at worst, regressed by ending up at a particular conclusion.
Since, whenever I communicate, my goal is to communicate, such a destruction of distinction doesn’t lead anywhere.
If I am right, then the collapsing of the belief/knowledge distinction can be, safely, abandoned. After all, why create a problem that doesn’t exist?