My professorial salary, which is for nine months of work, is spread (at my request) over 12 months. My contract with the State of Texas begins each year on 1 September and ends on 31 May. This means that I have no obligations during June, July, or August. I can do anything I want during those months. I can practice law; I can live in a cottage in Montana; I can travel the world. In fact, I do pretty much the same thing all year around. The only difference is that I don’t teach (or attend committee meetings) during the summer. I didn’t go to campus from the time I gave my last final exam in the spring semester to the first day of class this fall, not even to pick up my mail.

For many years now, UTA employees (including professors) have had to complete a form which details their “absences.” There is a form for September, for October, and so forth. These forms are silly in the case of professors, because professors pretty much do as they please. For example, the only place I have to be, during a semester, is in the classroom at the appointed hours. (There are also occasional committee meetings.) Many professors work at home rather than in their offices. The only time I ever wrote anything other than “none” under “absences” was this past spring, when I missed two days of teaching because of influenza.

When I got to my office today, I found forms for July and August. I’ve never given any thought to these forms; I just write “none” under “absences,” sign my name, and give them to the secretary. But today it dawned on me that I should not put “none” on the forms for June, July, and August. Why? Because saying that I was not absent implies that I was supposed to be present—and I wasn’t supposed to be present during these months. I returned the forms—unsigned—with a notation to this effect. It’ll be interesting to see what reaction I get (if any).

As I drove home this morning, after teaching my Logic class, I realized that the word “absent” is ambiguous. It has both a generic and a specific meaning. In the generic sense, “absent” means, simply, “not present.” In the specific sense, it means “not present when one is supposed [or obligated] to be present.” While I was absent during July and August in the generic sense, since I wasn’t present on campus, I was not absent during those months in the specific sense, since I was not supposed [obligated] to be anywhere. Do you see the difference?

This reminded me of a debate I had with retired philosophy professor Len Carrier, who used to blog with me at The Ethics of War. I forget how the issue came up, but Len denied that animals are innocent. It was (and is) obvious to me that animals are innocent, in the same sense in which children are innocent. I now realize that we weren’t engaging one another. The word “innocent,” like the word “absent,” has both a generic and a specific meaning. In the generic sense, “innocent” means, simply, “not guilty.” In the specific sense, it means “possibly guilty but not [in fact] guilty.” While animals are innocent in the generic sense, since they are not in fact guilty of anything, they are not innocent in the specific sense, since they are not possibly guilty. The reason they are not possibly guilty is that they are not moral agents. (Only moral agents can be guilty.)

The moral of the story is that ambiguity matters. It can prevent two people from engaging one another (as in the case of “innocent”), and it can commit a person to something that he or she doesn’t intend to commit to (as in the case of “absent”).