In fact, as I will now show, the sentence “If I had a thesis, I would be at fault”17 is a formal impossibility. I earlier interpreted and symbolized it as “If X (a proposition is proposed), then Y (an error is made)”, giving the antecedent and consequent two separate symbols, X and Y. But now let us consider these constituents more closely.
What does “making an error” mean here? It is not an ordinary predicate. The consequent Y does not merely refer to some error in general, but specifically to an error in the antecedent X. Y tells us that X is wrong. Therefore, Y formally implies the negation of X, i.e. notX! Granting this, Nagarjuna’s sentence now reads: “If X, then not X”, i.e. “If X is true, then X is false” – a paradoxical hypothetical
17 Two other translations of this sentence confirm and amplify this reading. “If I would make any proposition whatever, then by that I would have a logical error” (Streng). “Should I have put forward any thesis, then the logical defect would have been mine” (Gradinarov).
proposition, whose conclusion would be the categorical “X is false” (as earlier suggested).
However, that is not the end of the matter. If we now consider the meaning of X – viz. “a proposition is proposed”
– we may fairly suppose it refers to just any proposition whatsoever. In that case, the proposition concerned might even be the negation of X; so that we may substitute notX for X throughout the hypothesis. So doing, we obtain “If notX, then not notX”, i.e. “If not X, then X”, or in other words “If X is false, then X is true”. This is also, of course, a paradoxical proposition, whose formal conclusion is “X is true”.
We thus – by means of a universal reading of “having a thesis”, as inclusive of “not having a thesis” – now have, not only a single paradox, but a double paradox! That is, our conclusion is not only that X is false, but that X is both true and false. The latter conclusion is of course contrary to the law of non-contradiction, as in the case of the liar paradox.
This means that Nagarjuna’s statement is a formal impossibility: it is a contradiction in terms; it is not only false, but meaningless. It does not constitute legitimate discourse at all, let alone a tenable philosophical position or theory. The words or symbols used in it are logically not even conceivable, so it is as if he is saying nothing. He seems to be saying something intelligible, but it is an illusion.
Now, it may be objected that Y does not necessarily mean that X is wrong, but could merely mean that X could be wrong. That is, “making an error” could be taken to mean that X is uncertain rather than definitely refuted. In that case, we would have the following two hypotheses: “If X, possibly not X” and “If not X, possibly X”; or in one sentence:
“Whether X or not X is proposed, the outcome is uncertain”.
Indeed, this more modal, ambiguous posture may well be
considered as Nagarjuna’s exact intent (which some have interpreted as noncommittal ‘illocution’).
At first sight, due to the use of vague words or of symbols, this objection may seem credible and the contradictory conclusions involved apparently dissolved. But upon reflection, there is still an underlying conflict: to affirm X, or to deny it, is contrary to a position that neither affirms nor denies X. An assertoric statement (affirming or denying X) is incompatible with a problematic statement (saying X may or may not be true). One cannot at once claim to have knowledge (of X, or of not X) and claim to lack it (considering the truth or falsehood issue open). This is as much a contradiction as claiming the same thing (X) true and false.
Someone unacquainted with the logic of hypothetical propositions might now object that X, or notX, is only proposed hypothetically in the antecedent, and so may well be problematic in the consequent. But this is a logically untenable objection, due to the process of addition (described in the chapter on formal logic); i.e. due to the fact that “If X, then Y” implies “If X, then (X and Y)”. In the present case, this means: “If X is asserted, then X is both asserted and uncertain”. It suffices for the contradiction to occur conditionally, as here, for the condition to be disproved; therefore, our conclusion is quite formal: “X cannot be asserted”. QED.
Someone could here, finally, object that the certainty in the antecedent and the uncertainty in the consequent may not be simultaneous, and so not produce a logical conflict. Such objection would be valid, granting that a thought process separated the beginning and end of the hypothetical proposition. However, in the case under scrutiny, Nagarjuna is clearly stating that in the very act of “proposing
something”, one would be “making an error”; i.e. the error is nothing other than the proposing, itself. So, no time separation can credibly be argued, and Nagarjuna’s thesis remains illogical.
Note that all the present discussion has concerned only the first part of verse 29, i.e. the major premise “If I had a thesis, I would be at fault”. We have found this hypothetical proposition logically faulty, irrespective of whether Nagarjuna admits or refuses to acknowledge that he “has a thesis”. So, let us now reconsider this minor premise of his, and his conclusion that he “is not at fault”.
We have here introduced a new twist in the analysis, when we realized that “If X, then Y” (understood as “If X, then not X”) implies “If not X, then Y” (since the latter is implied by
“If not X, then X”, which is implied by the former by replacing X with notX). So, now we have a new major premise for Nagarjuna, namely “If not X, then Y”, meaning:
“If I do not have a thesis, I will be at fault”.
Taking this implied major premise with Nagarjuna’s own minor premise, viz. “I have no thesis” – the conclusion is “I am at fault”. This conclusion is, note, the opposite of his (“I am not at fault”). Thus, even though Nagarjuna boasts his thinking is faultless, it is demonstrably faulty!
For – simply put, leaving aside all his rhetoric – all he is saying is: “no thesis is true”; it is just another version of the liar paradox. And his attempt to mitigate his statement, with the afterthought “except my thesis”, is logically merely an additional statement: a particular case that falls squarely under the general rule. Moreover, before an exception can be applied, the rule itself must be capable of consistent formulation – and this one clearly (as just shown) is not.
Note lastly, none of this refutation implies that silence is impossible or without value. If (as some commentators contend) Nagarjuna’s purpose was to promote cessation of discourse, he sure went about it the wrong way. He did not need to develop a controversial, anti-logical philosophy. It would have been enough for him to posit, as a psychological fact, that (inner and outer) silence is expedient for deep meditation.