Hossein Jorjani
First publication: 2026 – 08 – 06
Philosophical inquiry necessarily depends upon definitions. New concepts are introduced, familiar concepts are refined, and distinctions are drawn between phenomena that ordinary language may treat as equivalent. Yet even a carefully formulated definition may leave the reader uncertain about what the author actually intends it to encompass. For this reason, an important definition is better accompanied by several concrete instances of what is being defined.
Instances are not merely pedagogical illustrations intended to make difficult ideas easier to understand. They also expose a definition to examination. Suppose, for example, that freedom is defined as the absence of external constraint. Does a person suffering from an addiction, but prevented by nobody from satisfying it, constitute an instance of freedom? What about someone whose choices are severely restricted by economic necessity? Such cases compel us to ask whether the proposed definition captures what we intend by freedom or whether additional distinctions are required.
The same problem appears in scientific classification. A definition of species based upon interbreeding may work readily for many sexually reproducing organisms, but what happens when it is applied to asexual organisms, geographically isolated populations, hybrids, or ring species? These are not inconvenient examples to be set aside after the definition has been formulated. They help reveal its domain of applicability and its limitations. The difficult instance may therefore contribute more to conceptual clarification than the ideal case for which the definition was originally constructed.
Several instances are generally more informative than one because they reveal different boundaries of a concept. Consider a sociological definition of social class that incorporates income, occupation, education, or relation to production. A wealthy entrepreneur, a highly paid professional, and a poorly paid university graduate may occupy very different positions depending upon which criteria are emphasized. Confronting the definition with such cases makes visible assumptions that might remain concealed in an abstract formulation. Borderline cases and counterinstances are particularly valuable because they show where classification becomes uncertain or where the definition produces consequences that its author may not have intended.
The problem becomes more serious when abstract concepts are defined primarily through other abstract concepts. A philosophical system may develop an elaborate vocabulary in which one technical term is explained by reference to several others, which themselves require further definition. The resulting conceptual architecture may be internally impressive while leaving the reader with difficulty identifying anything outside the system to which it refers. The problem is not abstraction itself, which is indispensable to thought, but abstraction without sufficient return to recognizable instances.
There is an architectural analogy. An architect may describe a magnificent building—its rooms, passages, levels, proportions, and structural relationships—in extraordinary detail. Yet eventually the conception must become sufficiently concrete to appear in a drawing, a scale model, or an actual structure. Otherwise, those listening to the description have limited means of discovering whether the proposed elements can actually be brought together as imagined. Some philosophical definitions resemble magnificent buildings existing only in the architect’s mind: what is missing is not necessarily another description, but a model that allows others to see what the description amounts to.
The relation between literary description and cinematic realization provides another example. While reading a work such as The Lord of the Rings, a reader may find it difficult to construct a coherent representation of its landscapes, caverns, buildings, corridors, and creatures. A film adaptation must make these partly indeterminate descriptions concrete. Designers, architects, artists, costume makers, and filmmakers must decide how the described elements look, how they relate spatially, and whether they form a world through which characters can plausibly move. The resulting film is not the uniquely correct visualization of the text, but one elaborately constructed instance of it. By forcing interpretive possibilities into a visible and internally coherent form, cinematic realization reveals how much uncertainty an impressive verbal structure may still contain.
Definitions and instances should therefore be regarded as mutually constraining. The definition tells us what should count as an instance; the instances reveal whether the definition distinguishes successfully among the phenomena to which it is applied. When they conflict, the appropriate response may be to reject the proposed instance, modify the definition, divide one concept into several, or recognize that its boundaries are inherently uncertain. In each case, conceptual understanding advances through movement between abstraction and particular cases.
A definition should consequently not be judged solely by its elegance, coherence, or apparent precision. We should also ask: What are its instances? What lies just outside it? What happens in borderline cases? What would count as a counterinstance? A philosopher who constructs a magnificent conceptual building should also be willing to provide a few models. We ordinary mortals may then walk around them, examine them from different sides, and decide whether the structure stands.