The universe is what it is. But we mortals want to control it, to make it serve our own needs. If we want to be successful, we need to know what we can change and what is immutable, unchangeable.
There are two ways we learn what we can control and how to do so.
We can learn from experience. I run too fast. I trip and fall and hurt myself. This knowledge goes almost immediately into my intuition. I don’t have to think about it. I just know it: Don’t run too fast!
We can also learn from thinking. Thinking is a combination of imagining and comparing. I imagine what would happen if I was running very fast and then try to come up with a way to avoid falling. Why did I fall before? What it only because of my speed or was there something else, something I can control? What if I paid more attention to where I am going?
“More attention.” What do I mean by that? I have to think back to when I fell. What was I paying attention to? Then I have to imagine a change. And then I try to compare the consequences of making that change.
Usually, this kind of thinking involves a conversation with myself. But not always. I might discuss this with a friend, a colleague, even a stranger.
This is the heart of it. Conversation. Communication. Describing a problem. Describing a possible solution. Describing what I am changing and trying to see if that might make a difference. Describing how and why that would make a difference. Coming up with a rule.
Now that I have that rule, I might think that I am in charge. Now I can always run faster and not have to worry about falling.
That is the beauty of language. It gives us control. That is the danger of language. It gives us the illusion that we are in control.
It is now time to think about apples.
If a child thinks about an apple, it thinks of the apple as a single thing. The child does not contemplate the many things that an apple might be.
Apples can be things to eat, to draw, to throw, to use as a logo, to philosophize about.
But an apple cannot be locked into a single meaning. Even when it is our intent only to eat an apple, we immediately enter other domains: cooking, measuring, physics, chemistry, allergies, metaphors.
One of these domains might be important to one particular person (such as a cook). The other domains might be considered incidental, unimportant to that same user.
What I am saying is that language is not at all as reliable as we think it is.
I might think I am in control of the language I use. Actually, I am at the mercy of that language,
This is not just about me. It is about every one of us.
I am saying ithat language is not at all as reliable as we think it is.
Talk to two people who married for “love”. They probably believed they each had the same definition of love. The same definition, right down to the importance of remembering birthdays, or what gift to buy, or the importance of honesty.
They will argue. It is almost inevitable. Perhaps it will be about where to leave dirty clothes. What to do about the dishes. What to spend money on.
And at some point, one of them might include a certain phrase in their discussion: “if you loved me”
We designate an object by using a word. But that word exists only in our mind.
The object exists elsewhere.
“Love” is an experience. It is not an object. “Love” is ineffable (a fancy word that means it cannot be truly defined).
When I am talking, I know what I am trying to say.
(I think I know what I am trying to say.)
What I am saying is that language is not at all as reliable as we think it is.
Look up any word in a dictionary.
A dictionary is supposed to make clear the meaning of words. How does it do this?
It uses words. It uses words to define other words.
Sometimes, it uses pictures to define words. A picture of an apple to define “apple”.
Now imagine a young child looking at that picture on an apple. What color is the apple in the picture? Probably red. If so, will the child realize that the color is not as important as the shape. But other fruit have the same shape. Will the child realize that the shape is not absolutely reliable for recognizing apples. What is? Size alone doesn’t describe apples. Taste? Taste alone doesn’t identify apples. (And, by the way, please notice that we are already moving far beyond what a dictionary can provide).
At this point, some smart person is saying something like this: “I know how to identify an apple. It is based on “experience”. If I have experienced enough apples, I will be able to identify apples.
Well … no, you won’t. Not absolutely.
Okay, dear reader, it is time to introduce a nasty word. It is a word that some reader among you might already be using.
Sophism.
Look this word up. There are good definitions online; and I don’t want to plagiarize them. They wouldn’t be right.
Partly because all those definitions are – well – kind of wrong.
They claim that the meaning of sophism is “an argument that seems correct, but is wrong.
I claim that sophism is a word used by people who cannot stand to lose an argument.
The thing is: I am not trying to win an argument. I am simply making a statement about something I think is obvious: Nothing is perfect; not even language. But this bothers a lot of people, especially those who use language – as I do and probably you do – to communicate, to share ideas, to convince other people of something.
Sophism is a sort of “dirty word” used to shoot down an unpleasant idea
People depend on language. And here I am, saying that language is unreliable.
Yes, it is unreliable, but we need it.
Cars are unreliable; but most of us need them. Clocks are unreliable. You name something that you think is reliable. Whatever it is, it is actually unreliable.
If that were all I had to say, you would be right to reach for that word – sophism – just to get me out of you head.
But it not all I have to say. In fact, it is just the beginning of what I have to say.
I am saying that yes, language is unreliable, but it is what it is. And we need it. So we must continue to rely on it.
Our cars and stove and refrigerators and clocks may be unreliable to one extent or another, but nonetheless, we have to rely on them. Most of the time, I have enough important things to be thinking about – I can’t waste time worrying about whether my refrigerator is working at this moment.
We – myself and every reader who has made it this far – are standing at the precipice of a paradox. I will get us past this danger. (Yes, paradoxes are dangerous – they crash computer systems and destroy logic and are capable of making an AI stop communicating.) Paradoxes are important. They are responsible for most of the social problems we have, most of the things that people see going wrong. It is important to learn how to live with and survive paradoxes.
To be continued …