Truth and Falsehood

Our knowledge of truths, unlike our knowledge of things, has an opposite, namely error. So far as things are concerned, we may know them or not know them, but there is no positive state of mind which can be described as erroneous knowledge of things, so long, at any rate, as we confine ourselves to knowledge by acquaintance. Whatever we are acquainted with must be something; we may draw wrong inferences from our acquaintance, but the acquaintance itself cannot be deceptive. Thus there is no dualism as regards acquaintance. But as regards knowledge of truths, there is a dualism. We may believe what is false as well as what is true. We know that on very many subjects different people hold different and incompatible opinions: hence some beliefs must be erroneous. Since erroneous beliefs are often held just as strongly as true beliefs, it becomes a difficult question how they are to be distinguished from true beliefs. How are we to know, in a given case, that our belief is not erroneous? This is a question of the very greatest difficulty, to which no completely satisfactory answer is possible. There is, however, a preliminary question which is rather less difficult, and that is: What do we mean by truth and falsehood? It is this preliminary question which is to be considered in this chapter. In this chapter we are not asking how we can know whether a belief is true or false: we are asking what is meant by the question whether a belief is true or false. It is to be hoped that a clear answer to this question may help us to obtain an answer to the question what beliefs are true, but for the present we ask only 'What is truth?' and 'What is falsehood?' not 'What beliefs are true?' and 'What beliefs are false?' It is very important to keep these different questions entirely separate, since any confusion between them is sure to produce an answer which is not really applicable to either.

Our knowledge of truths, unlike our knowledge of things, has an opposite: error. When it comes to things, we may know them or not know them. But there is no actual state of mind that amounts to mistaken knowledge of things. At least, there is none as long as we limit ourselves to knowledge by acquaintance. Whatever we are acquainted with must be something. We may draw wrong conclusions from our acquaintance, but the acquaintance itself cannot deceive us. So acquaintance has no corresponding opposite. But knowledge of truths does. We may believe what is false as well as what is true. We know that people hold different, incompatible opinions on very many subjects. So some beliefs must be mistaken. Since mistaken beliefs are often held just as strongly as true beliefs, distinguishing between them becomes difficult. How can we know, in a particular case, that our belief is not mistaken? This question is extremely difficult, and no completely satisfactory answer is possible. There is, however, a somewhat easier question to ask first: What do we mean by truth and falsehood? This chapter will consider that preliminary question. We are not asking how we can know whether a belief is true or false. We are asking what the question of whether a belief is true or false means. We hope that clearly explaining the meaning of truth and falsehood may help us discover which beliefs are true. But for now, we ask only 'What is truth?' and 'What is falsehood?' We are not asking 'What beliefs are true?' and 'What beliefs are false?' Keeping these different questions entirely separate is very important. Confusing them is sure to produce an answer that does not really apply to either question.

There are three points to observe in the attempt to discover the nature of truth, three requisites which any theory must fulfil.

In trying to understand the nature of truth, we must consider three points. These are three requirements that any theory must meet.

(1) Our theory of truth must be such as to admit of its opposite, falsehood. A good many philosophers have failed adequately to satisfy this condition: they have constructed theories according to which all our thinking ought to have been true, and have then had the greatest difficulty in finding a place for falsehood. In this respect our theory of belief must differ from our theory of acquaintance, since in the case of acquaintance it was not necessary to take account of any opposite.

(1) Our theory of truth must allow for its opposite, falsehood. Many philosophers have failed to meet this requirement adequately. They have developed theories according to which all our thinking should have been true. Those philosophers have then had great difficulty finding a place for falsehood in their theories. In this respect, our theory of belief must differ from our theory of acquaintance. With acquaintance, we did not need to account for any opposite.

(2) It seems fairly evident that if there were no beliefs there could be no falsehood, and no truth either, in the sense in which truth is correlative to falsehood. If we imagine a world of mere matter, there would be no room for falsehood in such a world, and although it would contain what may be called 'facts', it would not contain any truths, in the sense in which truths are things of the same kind as falsehoods. In fact, truth and falsehood are properties of beliefs and statements: hence a world of mere matter, since it would contain no beliefs or statements, would also contain no truth or falsehood.

(2) It seems fairly clear that without beliefs, there could be no falsehood. Nor could there be truth, in the sense in which truth is the counterpart of falsehood. Imagine a world consisting only of matter. There would be no room for falsehood in such a world. Although that world would contain what may be called 'facts', it would contain no truths. Here, truths are understood as things of the same kind as falsehoods. In fact, truth and falsehood are properties of beliefs and statements. So a world consisting only of matter would contain no truth or falsehood, because it would contain no beliefs or statements.

(3) But, as against what we have just said, it is to be observed that the truth or falsehood of a belief always depends upon something which lies outside the belief itself. If I believe that Charles I died on the scaffold, I believe truly, not because of any intrinsic quality of my belief, which could be discovered by merely examining the belief, but because of an historical event which happened two and a half centuries ago. If I believe that Charles I died in his bed, I believe falsely: no degree of vividness in my belief, or of care in arriving at it, prevents it from being false, again because of what happened long ago, and not because of any intrinsic property of my belief. Hence, although truth and falsehood are properties of beliefs, they are properties dependent upon the relations of the beliefs to other things, not upon any internal quality of the beliefs.

(3) But against what we have just said, we must note a further point. Whether a belief is true or false always depends on something outside the belief itself. If I believe that Charles I died on the scaffold, my belief is true. But its truth does not come from any quality within the belief, discoverable simply by examining the belief. Instead, my belief is true because of a historical event two and a half centuries ago. If I believe that Charles I died in his bed, my belief is false. No matter how vivid my belief is, or how carefully I reached it, the belief remains false. Again, this is because of what happened long ago, not because of any quality within my belief. So although truth and falsehood are properties of beliefs, these properties depend on how beliefs relate to other things. They do not depend on any internal quality of the beliefs.

The third of the above requisites leads us to adopt the view—which has on the whole been commonest among philosophers—that truth consists in some form of correspondence between belief and fact. It is, however, by no means an easy matter to discover a form of correspondence to which there are no irrefutable objections. By this partly—and partly by the feeling that, if truth consists in a correspondence of thought with something outside thought, thought can never know when truth has been attained—many philosophers have been led to try to find some definition of truth which shall not consist in relation to something wholly outside belief. The most important attempt at a definition of this sort is the theory that truth consists in coherence. It is said that the mark of falsehood is failure to cohere in the body of our beliefs, and that it is the essence of a truth to form part of the completely rounded system which is The Truth.

The third requirement listed above leads us to a view that has generally been the most common among philosophers. This view holds that truth consists in some form of correspondence between belief and fact. But finding a form of correspondence that faces no unanswerable objections is far from easy. This difficulty has partly led many philosophers to seek a different definition of truth. Another reason is the feeling that, if truth means thought corresponds to something outside thought, thought can never know when it has reached truth. These philosophers have therefore sought a definition that does not make truth depend on something wholly outside belief. The most important attempt of this kind is the theory that truth consists in coherence. According to this theory, a belief is marked as false by failing to fit with our beliefs as a whole. What makes a belief true is that it belongs to the complete, unified system that is The Truth.

There is, however, a great difficulty in this view, or rather two great difficulties. The first is that there is no reason to suppose that only one coherent body of beliefs is possible. It may be that, with sufficient imagination, a novelist might invent a past for the world that would perfectly fit on to what we know, and yet be quite different from the real past. In more scientific matters, it is certain that there are often two or more hypotheses which account for all the known facts on some subject, and although, in such cases, men of science endeavour to find facts which will rule out all the hypotheses except one, there is no reason why they should always succeed.

However, this view has one major difficulty, or rather two. The first is that there is no reason to suppose only one consistent set of beliefs is possible. With enough imagination, a novelist might invent a past for the world that perfectly fits what we know. Yet this invented past might be quite different from the real past. In scientific matters, there are certainly often two or more hypotheses that explain all the known facts about a subject. In such cases, scientists try to find facts that will rule out all but one of these hypotheses. But there is no reason to think scientists will always succeed.

In philosophy, again, it seems not uncommon for two rival hypotheses to be both able to account for all the facts. Thus, for example, it is possible that life is one long dream, and that the outer world has only that degree of reality that the objects of dreams have; but although such a view does not seem inconsistent with known facts, there is no reason to prefer it to the common-sense view, according to which other people and things do really exist. Thus coherence as the definition of truth fails because there is no proof that there can be only one coherent system.

In philosophy, too, two competing explanations often seem able to account for all the facts. For example, life may be one long dream, with the outside world no more real than objects in dreams. Although this view seems consistent with the known facts, there is no reason to prefer it to the common-sense view. According to the common-sense view, other people and things really do exist. So coherence fails as a definition of truth, because there is no proof that only one coherent system is possible.

The other objection to this definition of truth is that it assumes the meaning of 'coherence' known, whereas, in fact, 'coherence' presupposes the truth of the laws of logic. Two propositions are coherent when both may be true, and are incoherent when one at least must be false. Now in order to know whether two propositions can both be true, we must know such truths as the law of contradiction. For example, the two propositions, 'this tree is a beech' and 'this tree is not a beech', are not coherent, because of the law of contradiction. But if the law of contradiction itself were subjected to the test of coherence, we should find that, if we choose to suppose it false, nothing will any longer be incoherent with anything else. Thus the laws of logic supply the skeleton or framework within which the test of coherence applies, and they themselves cannot be established by this test.

The other objection to this definition of truth is that it assumes we know what 'coherence' means. In fact, 'coherence' assumes that the laws of logic are true. Two propositions are coherent when both can be true. They are incoherent when at least one must be false. To know whether two propositions can both be true, we must know truths such as the law of contradiction. For example, the two propositions, 'this tree is a beech' and 'this tree is not a beech', are not coherent. This is because of the law of contradiction. But suppose we tested the law of contradiction itself for coherence. We would find that, if we chose to assume this law was false, nothing would be incoherent with anything else. So the laws of logic provide the framework within which the test of coherence works. The laws themselves cannot be established by this test.

For the above two reasons, coherence cannot be accepted as giving the meaning of truth, though it is often a most important test of truth after a certain amount of truth has become known.

For the two reasons above, coherence cannot be accepted as the meaning of truth. But coherence is often a very important test of truth once some truth is already known.

Hence we are driven back to correspondence with fact as constituting the nature of truth. It remains to define precisely what we mean by 'fact', and what is the nature of the correspondence which must subsist between belief and fact, in order that belief may be true.

So we are led back to correspondence with fact as the nature of truth. We still need to define exactly what we mean by 'fact'. We must also explain how a belief must correspond to a fact for the belief to be true.

In accordance with our three requisites, we have to seek a theory of truth which (1) allows truth to have an opposite, namely falsehood, (2) makes truth a property of beliefs, but (3) makes it a property wholly dependent upon the relation of the beliefs to outside things.

To meet our three requirements, we must find a theory of truth with these features. (1) It allows truth to have an opposite, namely falsehood. (2) It makes truth a property of beliefs. But (3) it makes that property depend entirely on how beliefs relate to things outside them.

The necessity of allowing for falsehood makes it impossible to regard belief as a relation of the mind to a single object, which could be said to be what is believed. If belief were so regarded, we should find that, like acquaintance, it would not admit of the opposition of truth and falsehood, but would have to be always true. This may be made clear by examples. Othello believes falsely that Desdemona loves Cassio. We cannot say that this belief consists in a relation to a single object, 'Desdemona's love for Cassio', for if there were such an object, the belief would be true. There is in fact no such object, and therefore Othello cannot have any relation to such an object. Hence his belief cannot possibly consist in a relation to this object.

We must allow for false beliefs. So we cannot treat belief as a relation between the mind and a single object, called what is believed. If we treated belief this way, belief, like acquaintance, could not be either true or false. Instead, belief would always have to be true. Examples can make this point clear. Othello falsely believes that Desdemona loves Cassio. We cannot say his belief is a relation to a single object, 'Desdemona's love for Cassio'. If such an object existed, his belief would be true. In fact, no such object exists, so Othello cannot have any relation to such an object. Therefore, his belief cannot possibly be a relation to this object.

It might be said that his belief is a relation to a different object, namely 'that Desdemona loves Cassio'; but it is almost as difficult to suppose that there is such an object as this, when Desdemona does not love Cassio, as it was to suppose that there is 'Desdemona's love for Cassio'. Hence it will be better to seek for a theory of belief which does not make it consist in a relation of the mind to a single object.

One might say his belief relates to a different object, namely 'that Desdemona loves Cassio'. But suppose Desdemona does not love Cassio. Assuming such an object exists is almost as difficult as assuming 'Desdemona's love for Cassio' exists. So we should look for a better theory of belief, one that does not make belief a relation between the mind and a single object.

It is common to think of relations as though they always held between two terms, but in fact this is not always the case. Some relations demand three terms, some four, and so on. Take, for instance, the relation 'between'. So long as only two terms come in, the relation 'between' is impossible: three terms are the smallest number that render it possible. York is between London and Edinburgh; but if London and Edinburgh were the only places in the world, there could be nothing which was between one place and another. Similarly jealousy requires three people: there can be no such relation that does not involve three at least. Such a proposition as 'A wishes B to promote C's marriage with D' involves a relation of four terms; that is to say, A and B and C and D all come in, and the relation involved cannot be expressed otherwise than in a form involving all four. Instances might be multiplied indefinitely, but enough has been said to show that there are relations which require more than two terms before they can occur.

People commonly think that relations always hold between two terms, but some relations require more than two. Some require three terms, some four, and so on. Take, for example, the relation 'between'. As long as there are only two terms, the relation 'between' is impossible. At least three terms are needed. York is between London and Edinburgh. But if London and Edinburgh were the only places in the world, nothing could be between one place and another. Similarly, jealousy requires three people: no such relation can involve fewer than three. A statement such as 'A wishes B to promote C's marriage with D' involves a relation of four terms. In other words, A, B, C, and D are all involved. The relation cannot be expressed without including all four. We could give endlessly more examples, but these examples are enough to show that some relations require more than two terms.

The relation involved in judging or believing must, if falsehood is to be duly allowed for, be taken to be a relation between several terms, not between two. When Othello believes that Desdemona loves Cassio, he must not have before his mind a single object, 'Desdemona's love for Cassio', or 'that Desdemona loves Cassio ', for that would require that there should be objective falsehoods, which subsist independently of any minds; and this, though not logically refutable, is a theory to be avoided if possible. Thus it is easier to account for falsehood if we take judgement to be a relation in which the mind and the various objects concerned all occur severally; that is to say, Desdemona and loving and Cassio must all be terms in the relation which subsists when Othello believes that Desdemona loves Cassio. This relation, therefore, is a relation of four terms, since Othello also is one of the terms of the relation. When we say that it is a relation of four terms, we do not mean that Othello has a certain relation to Desdemona, and has the same relation to loving and also to Cassio. This may be true of some other relation than believing; but believing, plainly, is not a relation which Othello has to each of the three terms concerned, but to all of them together: there is only one example of the relation of believing involved, but this one example knits together four terms. Thus the actual occurrence, at the moment when Othello is entertaining his belief, is that the relation called 'believing' is knitting together into one complex whole the four terms Othello, Desdemona, loving, and Cassio. What is called belief or judgement is nothing but this relation of believing or judging, which relates a mind to several things other than itself. An act of belief or of judgement is the occurrence between certain terms at some particular time, of the relation of believing or judging.

To account properly for falsehood, we must understand judging or believing as a relation between several terms, not just two. When Othello believes that Desdemona loves Cassio, he must not have a single object before his mind. Such an object would be 'Desdemona's love for Cassio', or 'that Desdemona loves Cassio'. But treating his belief this way would require objective falsehoods that exist independently of any minds. Although this theory cannot be logically disproved, we should avoid it if possible. So falsehood is easier to explain if we treat judgement as a relation involving the mind and each object separately. In other words, Desdemona, loving, and Cassio must all be terms in the relation involved in Othello's belief. This relation therefore has four terms, since Othello is also one of its terms. Calling this a relation of four terms does not mean Othello has a certain relation to Desdemona alone. Nor does it mean he has that same relation to loving and to Cassio separately. Some relation other than believing may work this way. But believing clearly does not relate Othello to each of the three terms separately, but to all of them together. There is only one instance of the believing relation here, but that single instance binds four terms together. So, when Othello holds his belief, the relation called 'believing' binds four terms into one complex whole. Those terms are Othello, Desdemona, loving, and Cassio. What we call belief or judgement is simply this relation of believing or judging. The relation connects a mind to several things other than itself. An act of belief or judgement occurs when the relation of believing or judging connects particular terms at a particular time.

We are now in a position to understand what it is that distinguishes a true judgement from a false one. For this purpose we will adopt certain definitions. In every act of judgement there is a mind which judges, and there are terms concerning which it judges. We will call the mind the subject in the judgement, and the remaining terms the objects. Thus, when Othello judges that Desdemona loves Cassio, Othello is the subject, while the objects are Desdemona and loving and Cassio. The subject and the objects together are called the constituents of the judgement. It will be observed that the relation of judging has what is called a 'sense' or 'direction'. We may say, metaphorically, that it puts its objects in a certain order, which we may indicate by means of the order of the words in the sentence. (In an inflected language, the same thing will be indicated by inflections, e.g. by the difference between nominative and accusative.) Othello's judgement that Cassio loves Desdemona differs from his judgement that Desdemona loves Cassio, in spite of the fact that it consists of the same constituents, because the relation of judging places the constituents in a different order in the two cases. Similarly, if Cassio judges that Desdemona loves Othello, the constituents of the judgement are still the same, but their order is different. This property of having a 'sense' or 'direction' is one which the relation of judging shares with all other relations. The 'sense' of relations is the ultimate source of order and series and a host of mathematical concepts; but we need not concern ourselves further with this aspect.

We can now understand what distinguishes a true judgement from a false one. For this purpose, we will use some definitions. Every act of judgement involves a mind that judges and terms about which the mind judges. We will call the mind the subject of the judgement, and the remaining terms the objects. Thus, when Othello judges that Desdemona loves Cassio, Othello is the subject. The objects are Desdemona, loving, and Cassio. The subject and the objects together are called the constituents of the judgement. Notice that the relation of judging has what is called a 'sense' or 'direction'. Metaphorically, we may say that judging puts its objects in a certain order. We may show this order through the order of words in the sentence. (In an inflected language, word endings indicate the same thing, for example, through the difference between nominative and accusative forms.) Othello's judgement that Cassio loves Desdemona differs from his judgement that Desdemona loves Cassio. Both judgements have the same constituents, but the relation of judging places those constituents in a different order. Similarly, if Cassio judges that Desdemona loves Othello, the judgement still has the same constituents, but their order is different. The relation of judging shares this property of having a 'sense' or 'direction' with all other relations. The 'sense' of relations is the ultimate source of order, series, and many mathematical concepts. But we need not explore this aspect further.

We spoke of the relation called 'judging' or 'believing' as knitting together into one complex whole the subject and the objects. In this respect, judging is exactly like every other relation. Whenever a relation holds between two or more terms, it unites the terms into a complex whole. If Othello loves Desdemona, there is such a complex whole as 'Othello's love for Desdemona'. The terms united by the relation may be themselves complex, or may be simple, but the whole which results from their being united must be complex. Wherever there is a relation which relates certain terms, there is a complex object formed of the union of those terms; and conversely, wherever there is a complex object, there is a relation which relates its constituents. When an act of believing occurs, there is a complex, in which 'believing' is the uniting relation, and subject and objects are arranged in a certain order by the 'sense' of the relation of believing. Among the objects, as we saw in considering 'Othello believes that Desdemona loves Cassio', one must be a relation—in this instance, the relation 'loving'. But this relation, as it occurs in the act of believing, is not the relation which creates the unity of the complex whole consisting of the subject and the objects. The relation 'loving', as it occurs in the act of believing, is one of the objects—it is a brick in the structure, not the cement. The cement is the relation 'believing'. When the belief is true, there is another complex unity, in which the relation which was one of the objects of the belief relates the other objects. Thus, e.g., if Othello believes truly that Desdemona loves Cassio, then there is a complex unity, 'Desdemona's love for Cassio', which is composed exclusively of the objects of the belief, in the same order as they had in the belief, with the relation which was one of the objects occurring now as the cement that binds together the other objects of the belief. On the other hand, when a belief is false, there is no such complex unity composed only of the objects of the belief. If Othello believes falsely that Desdemona loves Cassio, then there is no such complex unity as 'Desdemona's love for Cassio'.

We described the relation called 'judging' or 'believing' as joining the subject and the objects into one complex whole. In this respect, judging is exactly like every other relation. Whenever a relation holds between two or more terms, the relation unites those terms into a complex whole. If Othello loves Desdemona, there is a complex whole called 'Othello's love for Desdemona'. The terms joined by the relation may themselves be complex or simple. But the whole formed by joining those terms must be complex. Whenever a relation connects certain terms, a complex object is formed by their union. Conversely, whenever there is a complex object, a relation connects its parts. When someone believes something, a complex whole exists, with 'believing' as the relation that joins its parts. The 'sense', or direction, of the believing relation arranges the subject and objects in a particular order. As we saw when considering 'Othello believes that Desdemona loves Cassio', one of the objects must be a relation. In this example, that relation is 'loving'. But within the act of believing, 'loving' does not unite the subject and objects into a complex whole. Instead, 'loving' is one of the objects. It is a brick in the structure, not the cement. The cement is the relation 'believing'. When the belief is true, there is another complex whole. In this whole, the relation that was one of the belief's objects connects the other objects. For example, suppose Othello believes truly that Desdemona loves Cassio. Then there is a complex whole, 'Desdemona's love for Cassio', made up only of the objects of the belief. Those objects appear in the same order as in the belief. But the relation that was one of the objects now acts as the cement binding the other objects together. On the other hand, when a belief is false, no such complex whole consists only of the belief's objects. If Othello believes falsely that Desdemona loves Cassio, there is no complex whole called 'Desdemona's love for Cassio'.

Thus a belief is true when it corresponds to a certain associated complex, and false when it does not. Assuming, for the sake of definiteness, that the objects of the belief are two terms and a relation, the terms being put in a certain order by the 'sense' of the believing, then if the two terms in that order are united by the relation into a complex, the belief is true; if not, it is false. This constitutes the definition of truth and falsehood that we were in search of. Judging or believing is a certain complex unity of which a mind is a constituent; if the remaining constituents, taken in the order which they have in the belief, form a complex unity, then the belief is true; if not, it is false.

Thus a belief is true when it corresponds to a particular associated complex, and false when it does not. To make this precise, suppose the objects of the belief are two terms and a relation. The 'sense' of the believing puts the terms in a particular order. If the relation unites the two terms in that order into a complex, the belief is true. If not, the belief is false. This gives us the definition of truth and falsehood we were looking for. Judging or believing is a complex unity, and a mind is one of its parts. Consider the remaining parts in the order they have in the belief. If those parts form a complex unity, the belief is true. If not, the belief is false.

Thus although truth and falsehood are properties of beliefs, yet they are in a sense extrinsic properties, for the condition of the truth of a belief is something not involving beliefs, or (in general) any mind at all, but only the objects of the belief. A mind, which believes, believes truly when there is a corresponding complex not involving the mind, but only its objects. This correspondence ensures truth, and its absence entails falsehood. Hence we account simultaneously for the two facts that beliefs (a) depend on minds for their existence, (b) do not depend on minds for their truth.

So although truth and falsehood are properties of beliefs, in a sense these properties depend on something outside the beliefs. For a belief to be true, a condition must hold that involves no beliefs and, generally, no mind at all. The condition involves only the objects of the belief. A mind holds a true belief when there is a corresponding complex involving only the belief’s objects, not the mind. This correspondence makes the belief true, and its absence makes the belief false. So we explain both facts at once: beliefs (a) depend on minds for their existence, (b) do not depend on minds for their truth.

We may restate our theory as follows: If we take such a belief as 'Othello believes that Desdemona loves Cassio', we will call Desdemona and Cassio the object-terms, and loving the object-relation. If there is a complex unity 'Desdemona's love for Cassio', consisting of the object-terms related by the object-relation in the same order as they have in the belief, then this complex unity is called the fact corresponding to the belief. Thus a belief is true when there is a corresponding fact, and is false when there is no corresponding fact.

We may restate our theory as follows: Take a belief such as 'Othello believes that Desdemona loves Cassio'. We will call Desdemona and Cassio the object-terms, and loving the object-relation. If a complex whole called 'Desdemona's love for Cassio' exists, it must meet the following condition. It must consist of the object-terms connected by the object-relation in the same order as in the belief. If such a complex whole exists, we call it the fact corresponding to the belief. Thus, a belief is true when there is a corresponding fact, and false when there is no corresponding fact.

It will be seen that minds do not create truth or falsehood. They create beliefs, but when once the beliefs are created, the mind cannot make them true or false, except in the special case where they concern future things which are within the power of the person believing, such as catching trains. What makes a belief true is a fact, and this fact does not (except in exceptional cases) in any way involve the mind of the person who has the belief.

We can see that minds do not create truth or falsehood. Minds create beliefs, but once a belief exists, the mind cannot make the belief true or false. The exception is when beliefs concern future events that the believer can control, such as catching trains. What makes a belief true is a fact. Except in unusual cases, that fact does not involve the believer’s mind in any way.

Having now decided what we mean by truth and falsehood, we have next to consider what ways there are of knowing whether this or that belief is true or false. This consideration will occupy the next chapter.

We have now decided what we mean by truth and falsehood. Next, we must consider how we can know whether a particular belief is true or false. We will explore this question in the next chapter.