Editing Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (section)

== IV. Language, Use, and the Myth of Recovery ==
In the narrative of 20th-century philosophy, it is common to draw a sharp line between the “early Wittgenstein” of the ''Tractatus'' and the “later Wittgenstein” of the ''Philosophical Investigations''. The early work is portrayed as austere, formal, even solipsistic – concerned only with an ideal logical language – whereas the later work is seen as more human, pragmatic, and social – emphasizing ''language in use'' (the famous “language-games” and forms of life). Some commentators, including Michael Fitzgerald in his initial analysis, implied that this shift marked a kind of ''developmental change'' in Wittgenstein – perhaps a moderation of his autistic traits as he aged. The idea arises that Wittgenstein, in focusing on ordinary language and its social function in his forties, might have “partially overcome” the rigid, mechanical cognitive style that produced the ''Tractatus''. This has led to what we might call the '''myth of recovery''': the notion that Wittgenstein moved away from an isolated, hyper-logical mindset toward a more typical, socially-attuned perspective in his later philosophy. However, newly available research into Wittgenstein’s unpublished notebooks and manuscripts ('''Nachlass'''), as well as closer re-readings of the ''Tractatus'' itself, strongly challenge this narrative. Instead of a clean break, we find a deep continuity. The later Wittgenstein’s focus on “meaning as use” and on everyday language-games turns out to be a ''transformation'' of themes already present in the ''Tractatus'', driven by the same autistic cognitive tendencies, merely applied to a broader range of life’s phenomena. In other words, Wittgenstein did '''not''' outgrow his autism; he '''extended it'''into new territories of thought. The TotalAutismo lens reveals that what changed was the ''subject matter'', not the ''mind''thinking about it.

One key piece of evidence for this continuity is that the concern with '''use''' – often thought to be absent in the ''Tractatus'' – is actually foreshadowed in Wittgenstein’s early work. The ''Tractatus'' itself hints at the importance of how signs are used. In an unpublished precursor (the so-called ''Prototractatus'' notes), Wittgenstein wrote: ''“Um das Zeichen im Zeichen zu erkennen muß man auf den Gebrauch achten.”'' – “In order to recognize the symbol in the sign, one must pay attention to the use”arxiv.org. This striking remark (from 1914) shows that even during his most “atomistic” phase, Wittgenstein acknowledged that ''use'' (Gebrauch) is what confers significance on a sign. It directly undermines the simplistic view that early Wittgenstein cared only about static logical form and not about practical use. In fact, what later became the slogan “''meaning is use''” has its seed right there in the genesis of the ''Tractatus''. Wittgenstein didn’t highlight it in the final text – possibly because it was implicit in how his system worked – but he certainly never believed words had meaning independent of use. He simply thought that in the domain of ''ideal logic'' he was delineating, use could be regimented to a degree that context wouldn’t undermine it. A recent scholarly analysis by R. de Queiroz points out this continuity: Wittgenstein’s Nachlass shows ''“the way in which language signifies is mirrored in its use”'' was an idea present in 1916arxiv.org, and thus the later emphasis on use was less a volte-face than a shift in emphasis. What changes in ''Investigations'' is that Wittgenstein zooms out to consider messy, ordinary uses of language in social life – but crucially, he approaches those with the same ''calculating'' mindset. He treats language-games as ''systems'' with rules and purposes, essentially as new logical structures to be analyzed, rather than as open-ended social performances.

Another continuity is Wittgenstein’s enduring view of '''language as a toolkit of instruments''' rather than as a medium of inner spirit or mere convention. In ''Philosophical Investigations'' §11, he famously asks us to think of words as tools in a toolbox – each with a function (hammer, pliers, saw… and words have comparably diverse functions)arxiv.org. While on the surface this metaphor might seem to stress practical, human uses of words, note the nature of the comparison: tools. A toolbox is a very ''mechanical'' concept of language. It implies that language is a collection of devices designed to achieve certain results. This perspective is entirely in line with Wittgenstein’s mechanistic bent in the ''Tractatus''. In 1929–30, just before his shift to the later style, Wittgenstein jotted in his notebook: ''“There is no point in talking about sentences that have no value as instruments. The sense of a sentence is its purpose.”''arxiv.org. Here we see explicit confirmation: even as he began considering language in more everyday contexts, he framed it in terms of '''instrumental value'''. A sentence without a use (a purpose) is as meaningless to him as a cog without a machine. This is a profoundly autistic way to look at communication – focusing on utility and function over social or emotive content. Far from being a turn to warmth or interpersonal understanding, Wittgenstein’s notion of use was almost behavioristic: what does this utterance ''do'' in a given circumstance? What result does it produce or what role does it play in the “calculus” of interaction? He explicitly wrote that a word’s meaning is its ''usefulness'' in a language-gamearxiv.org. Such a stance treats words as '''devices''' – each individually identifiable with a function in the overall system of language. This is not a romantic view of language as expression of soul; it’s a cool, system-engineer’s view of language as a collection of components that can be deployed. Notably, de Queiroz emphasizes that this perspective is “not social or affective in a neurotypical way. It is systemic, instrumental”. In other words, Wittgenstein didn’t suddenly become a social linguist; he remained a logical mechanic, only now the machines he examined were everyday language games. His approach was still to define rules, see patterns, and eliminate meaningless combinations. If anything, his later work intensifies the focus on '''rule-governed behavior''' in language – which is completely continuous with his earlier obsession with logical rules.

Furthermore, Wittgenstein never abandoned his '''visual-structural thinking''' when moving to the topic of usage. One might expect that a turn to ordinary language would involve embracing more narrative, metaphor, or humanistic descriptions. But instead, Wittgenstein’s later manuscripts (as analyzed by de Queiroz) show him continuing to apply a kind of formal analysis to language in use. He became interested in things like ''“immediate and mediated consequences”''of using a word, ''“grammatical transformations”'', and systematic comparisons between language and calculus. For example, he would ask: ''“What consequences does it have?”'' when someone says a certain phrase. This question isn’t about the speaker’s feelings or the listener’s interpretation in a rich sense; it’s about ''logical consequences'' in context – essentially, what new facts are established or what actions are prompted. In his ''Last Writings on the Philosophy of Psychology'', Wittgenstein presses questions like: ''“What does anyone tell me by saying ‘Now I see it as ...’? What consequences has this information? What can I do with it?”''. These are very much the questions of a person systematizing the pragmatics of language, almost like an algorithm. It reflects an '''analytical detachment''' – an orientation toward language as an object of study or a system to be optimized, rather than as a lived medium of fellowship. De Queiroz notes that this mode of examining language for ''consequences, purpose, fulfillment of functions'' is “autistic precision in action: mapping consequences, optimizing clarity, cutting away excess — not entering dialogue”. The motivation remains the same as in the ''Tractatus'': eliminate fuzziness, ensure every element of language serves a clear purpose, and disregard or dissect those aspects of language that do not fit a clear functional schema. Wittgenstein’s later technique of examining “language games” is effectively an extension of his earlier technique of examining logical syntax – both involve an almost obsessive cataloguing of ''rules'' and ''regularities''. In the ''Investigations'', he famously gives examples of simple language-games (like the “builder’s language” where one person calls “Block!” “Pillar!” etc., and another fetches them). These vignettes are extremely pared down, mechanical interactions – like little automata exchanging signals. It’s hard not to see in them the same mind that constructed the ''Tractatus''’ artificial world of perfectly logical propositions. The difference is that in the later work he’s acknowledging more variety of signal types and purposes (commands, questions, expressions of sensations, etc.), but each one he handles by describing a ''rule'' of usage, not by describing any intangible human qualities like ''intention'' or ''connotation''.

A supposed major shift often cited is that the later Wittgenstein gave up the ''Tractarian atomism'' (the idea that the world and language break down into independent atomic elements) in favor of a more '''holistic''' view of language, where meaning arises from the whole “form of life” and words have meaning only in the context of many interwoven practices. Some scholars interpret this as a move away from a rigid, mechanical worldview to a softer, more socially embedded one – perhaps even reflecting Wittgenstein’s deeper engagement with human relationships later in life. However, through the autistic lens, this shift appears less like a change of cognitive style and more like a broadening of scope executed with the same style. Instead of focusing on isolated atomic facts and logical combinations, Wittgenstein began to consider entire ''systems'' of language use – but he treated each system as just a larger ''machine''. De Queiroz suggests calling Wittgenstein’s later stance ''“functional holism”'' as opposed to the naïve notion of a warm, interpersonal holism. In this functional holism, words indeed gain meaning from the whole, but only because they are interlocking parts of a greater mechanism (the language-game). Wittgenstein writes in his later manuscripts that ''“[Words are] individually identifiable devices with a meaning (function, purpose, usefulness) in the calculus of language.”''. This sentence could almost have come from the ''Tractatus'', if not for the broader notion of a “calculus of language” that isn’t purely formal logic but a lived practice. The vocabulary remains one of '''devices, functions, calculus''' – all impersonal terms. This is not the language of someone who has become sensitive to the poetry or emotive richness of everyday speech. It’s the language of someone dissecting how the parts of a complex system interrelate. Wittgenstein’s later embrace of the “whole” does not mean he suddenly appreciated context for its human depth; it means he recognized that to understand any single speech-act, one must map out the entire ''network of rules'' it is embedded in. That’s a systems-engineer’s holism, not an empath’s. In fact, one can argue that it takes the autistic tendency to catalog and systematize to an even higher level: now, not just a sentence, but the ''entire language practice'' must be mapped and made explicit. It’s a feat of hyper-systemizing applied to the chaos of ordinary language, attempting to tame it by demonstrating that even ordinary language follows rule-governed patterns if seen from the right angle.

Given all this, the idea that Wittgenstein “overcame” or ameliorated his autism in later years is untenable. What he overcame were some early assumptions (like the simplicity of atomic signs or the sufficiency of a purely extensional logic to capture meaning). But those changes were themselves driven by his relentless logical scrutiny, not by a newfound neurotypical intuition. In fact, as soon as he returned to philosophy in 1929 after a hiatus, he began systematically questioning the ''Tractatus''’ assumptions using the same unforgiving lens. The result was a ''deepening'' of his autistic formalism, not a rejection of it. Fitzgerald, upon reviewing new evidence from the Nachlass, would likely concur that Wittgenstein’s later philosophy represents '''“Total Asperger Phase 2”''', to borrow a playful term – a second iteration of his autistic cognition tackling a new domain (the social use of words) with undiminished intensity. The flavor is different, but the recipe is the same. Wittgenstein’s later dialogs in ''Investigations'', which to an uninitiated reader might seem conversational or whimsical at times, are in fact carefully staged ''experiments'' on language, almost like programming scenarios to test rules. The famous private language argument, for instance, is carried out through a logical reductio about following a rule for writing down sensations – it’s as coldly analytic as anything in the ''Tractatus'', just couched in everyday terms.

In short, there was no “cure” or “recovery” in Wittgenstein’s intellectual trajectory, because being autistic wasn’t something he needed to recover from in terms of his ability to do philosophy – it was the source of his originality. What happened is that he applied his Aspieness to a different set of problems. As one analysis succinctly put it, ''“The transition from Tractatus to Investigations is not a move away from autism, but a deepening of autistic formalism into new domains.”'' The monotropic focus persisted (he became utterly consumed by the problem of how we follow rules and understand meaning in everyday contexts, writing thousands of pithy remarks on it), the literalism persisted (he continued to be wary of metaphors and insisted that philosophical clarity comes from describing actual language usage, not imaginary entities), and the need for clarity and closure persisted (even in ''Investigations'', whenever Wittgenstein feels an issue is resolved, he signals it and often abruptly ends the discussion, moving to the next). He did not become a relativist or a humanist in the conventional sense – he remained what he always was: a rigorous, pattern-seeking, system-building thinker who was now using those skills to critique his earlier system and build a more supple one. But ''supple'' only in relative terms – compared to the iron bar of the ''Tractatus'', the ''Investigations'' is a flexible wire, yet it’s a wire he attempts to stretch around the entirety of language-games. The later Wittgenstein still shows an almost painful directness and lack of guile (e.g., his brutally honest interrogation of his own thought processes, his willingness to admit confusion and start again in medias res – things typical of the kind of self-scrutiny many autistic individuals practice internally).

Thus, the popular image of Wittgenstein “the mystic of ordinary language” is somewhat misleading. He did say, near the end of his life, ''“I am not a religious man but I cannot help seeing every problem from a religious point of view,”'' which people sometimes quote to suggest a softening. Yet, in his method and analytic temperament, he remained extraordinarily consistent. The ''myth of recovery'' dissolves when one looks at the evidence: the notebooks reveal continuity of ideas like ''use, purpose, function'' from early to latearxiv.org; the metaphors he uses remain mechanical (toolbox, calculus, etc.); and the personality traits – intolerance for small talk, need for solitude, intense routines – remained until his death (by all biographical accounts, he was as socially uneasy in his later years at Cambridge as ever). What did change is that Wittgenstein seemingly came to terms with the '''limits''' of his first system. In doing so, he actually exemplified another autistic strength: the ability to scrap a system that doesn’t work and build a new one from first principles. That requires a certain rigidity in method but flexibility in outcome – precisely the combination he had. We can say, then, that later Wittgenstein is ''even more'' an autistic philosopher in the sense that he’s doubling down on analyzing human life ''as if it were logic'' – a move few others would dare make. He did not mellow into conformity; he drew the rest of the world’s messy language into the scope of his analytical spotlight.

From the standpoint of an autistic interpretation, Wittgenstein’s later work confirms rather than refutes the autistic character of his mind. It shows that when confronted with the apparent failure of his first rigid model, he did not abandon his cognitive style; he re-applied it in a novel way. He moved from an idealized logical machine to what we might call a ''social machine'' – the quasi-mechanical interplay of language-games governed by rules. In doing so, he demonstrated another autistic trait: ''relentless self-correction'' in pursuit of truth, even if it means overturning one’s previous certainties. Fitzgerald’s early reading may have hinted that language-games indicated Wittgenstein paying more attention to the social dimension (and indeed he was observing everyday linguistic life much more). But what we see with hindsight is that Wittgenstein approached the social dimension with the same aloof engineer’s eye. Ultimately, as one retrospective diagnosis put it, ''“Wittgenstein didn’t outgrow his autism. He used it to master language itself.”''. The later philosophy is the ''Tractatus'' turned inside out: instead of building a perfect logical language to describe the world, he examined the imperfect natural languages and revealed a kind of logical order within them. Both projects are united by the drive to make sense of language in a precise, systematic way. The continuity of that drive across Wittgenstein’s life cements the case that his autism was the engine of his philosophical creativity from beginning to end, not an obstacle he ever left behind.