Author Archives: Yiannis

Conformity and Emancipation

The association of knowledge with interests that guide its development and transmission brings to the fore the question of emancipation: in what sense are we, in what sense can we be free?  In a nutshell, since our way of experiencing and acting in the world has been structured by interests, our very perceptions and actions are the means by which we are being mobilized to pursue those interests.  So, how can we be free?  How can we be our own persons?

I find it helpful to keep in mind that we can consider our place in the world only after we have acquired a stock of knowledge, after we have developed sufficiently, typically by the time we have become adults.  By that time, we have of course been extensively tutored by others into what to perceive and how to conduct ourselves, we have acquired a stock of knowledge through which we consider our place in the world.  In other words, we have been socialized as members of communities, and we have been made in quite specific ways.

In a previous posting (The Structure of the Knower), I brought up two general interests that guide this socialization, one being the stability and continuation of the community we are being socialized into, another being our own interest in belonging to a community.  Our well-being and even our survival depends on being socialized and assimilated into a community, and, usually, the stability of the community is in our own interest as well.  Depending on the community we are members of, each one of us is raised to have a different stock of knowledge, suited to the survival and well-being of the community as well as of ourselves.  And these stocks of knowledge can be radically different.  It takes a particular stock of knowledge to survive as member of a hunter-gatherer community living in a jungle, a different one for a member of a settled farming community living by growing crops, another for a member of a nomadic pastoralist community living by the husbandry of cattle, yet another for a city dweller living by manipulating symbols.  Even within a single community, members may be socialized differently, acquiring very different stocks of knowledge.  The most familiar and virtually universal case is the differences in socialization according to male and female gender, with members being socialized into distinct male and female roles.  In populous societies with a large number of occupations, each requiring a different stock of knowledge, there are corresponding differences in socialization, say, for farmers, carpenters, ironsmiths, nurses, computer engineers, jurists, and so on.  The same considerations apply of course with regard to religions and our socialization into a religious community (or none at all), and extend to the adherence to particular diets (well-known examples include vegetarianism, or not eating pork or beef).

In very many cases, the roles our community makes available to each one of us at birth, that is, the possible stocks of knowledge to be socialized with and the kind of person we can become, are very limited.  This is fairly clear in the case of gender socialization into male and female roles (with usually no allowances made for intersex or other non-binary possibilities), as well as in the case of a religious upbringing, when someone is raised as, say, Hindu, Christian, or Muslim.  It is also evident in cases where the children are raised to follow in their parents’ occupation – for example, the son of the carpenter becomes a carpenter, of the farmer a farmer, the children of cleaners become cleaners – without much of a choice.  The whole society may be organized in castes, with the families belonging to a caste practicing a circumscribed range of occupations specific to that caste.  And even in contemporary western societies, whether someone ends up as unskilled laborer, an hourly worker, or as an educated office worker, an engineer, a physician, may well be the result of one’s birth and early schooling.  One’s station in life may be due to an accident of birth.

We do not choose the community we initially grow up as members of, we do not even choose our initial station within that community.  In other words, we do not choose our initial stock of knowledge, what we are initially made as.  More than that, each and every one of us is under pressure to perform the functions and play the roles we have been raised into, to conform to the expectations, to the standards of our community.  Communities exert strong pressures to ensure conformity, pressures that involve rewards and sanctions, rewards that range from mild approval to celebrity status, and sanctions that range from mild disapproval to brutal violence.  Most of us are more or less content with following the ways of our community, with conforming to expectations; after all, this is the means through which we participate in the life of the community, have a sense of belonging, are proud of who we have been made to be.  For the ones of us who are not content however, the pressure to conduct oneself within the spectrum of options afforded by the community, the pressure to conform, may feel oppressive and suffocating.  Especially because it is a pressure that is exerted not only by external means such as material rewards and sanctions, but also through the internalization of communal norms, through the shaping of our experience of the world and of our place and purpose in it.  The pressure to conform is also coming from within ourselves, from who we have been made to be.

The answer to the question about how we can be free is now straightforward: emancipation refers to freedom from the pressure to conform to the ways of our community, freedom to pursue our own choices and ways, guided by what we consider important and worthy and value.  We can always put effort into doing things in a different way, into trying to bring about a new way of living and experiencing the world, guided by our own interests. Reality is in excess and the knowledge imparted through our upbringing, the knowledge of our culture, does not exhaust the world; the way we have been made does not exhaust us.  Our resources for emancipation are to be found in the vast excess of reality, its independence from human knowledge.  So, we have the latitude to try to develop knowledge guided by our own interests, fashion our own way of being in the world.  Of course, there is no guarantee that we will be successful in our efforts, and we might very well fail.  Pursuing our own interests and choices is not easy.

Emancipation of course amounts to very different things depending on the individual stock of knowledge and on the options available in the milieu we find ourselves in, on who one is and who they want to be.  Emancipation will amount to different things for a woman in a male-dominated profession or community; for an unskilled laborer wishing better pay and working conditions; for someone living in a small rural tightly-knit community; for someone who finds (or loses, or changes) religion; or for a meat-eater becoming a vegetarian.  The break with the ways we assimilated through our upbringing and the pursuit of our own choices and ways will be guided by our own station in life and our own individual interests.  Emancipation may be an individual pursuit, but, as in situations where interests for a change are widely shared, it may also be a collective one, pursued through mass organization and mobilization.

If our interests diverge from those of our community, pursuing our own ways will involve a struggle against the demands of the community, along with a struggle to learn a different way of life, a struggle to discipline ourselves in novel ways, along channels different from those we were raised.  We might find however that our own interests overlap plenty with those we were raised to express – we might even be happily unaware of the confluence of our interests with those of our community.  In such a case our community might offer us all the choices we want, and we can channel our efforts accordingly; emancipation would not be a concern of ours.

The Structure of the Knower

As the previous post discussed, our experience of the world is organized by the interests that have guided our knowledge, the knowledge that our experience relies on.  At the same time, this knowledge of the world is embodied in us, the subject of knowledge, the knower (point #3 in Compass).  In other words, the knower has been shaped by the interests that have guided the knowledge their experience relies on.  We have been made per those interests, we reflect those interests.  This shaping of the knower, of each and every one of us, is the outcome of the disciplining that our experience relies on: we, the knowers, have been disciplined to know (Knowledge, Ability, Discipline).

We are well aware of this relationship between who we are and our specific way of experiencing the world: we are products of a long process of socialization, a socialization into the ways of our community.  This socialization begins early on, as we learn to discern particular features of our environment and direct our actions towards them, as we learn how to communicate through language, as we assimilate social roles and behaviors, and as we learn skills to earn a living.  We see the particularities of aspects of our socialization when we notice the finely-grained categorization of family relations in Mandarin Chinese (Family Relations), the differences of Hanunoo color categorizations (A Color Perception Example), or the bodily experience of marital problems among Hindu women (Ardhanarishvara).  Different socialization can result in radical differences in the ways we engage with and comprehend the world, a point beautifully expressed by Michel Foucault in the preface of The Order of Things: “… the thing we apprehend in one great leap, the thing that … is demonstrated as the exotic charm of another system of thought, is the limitation of our own, the stark impossibility of thinking that.

We are socialized by assimilating a stock of given knowledge, knowledge that is shared by the members of our community, knowledge that supports shared ways of experiencing and orienting ourselves in the world.  The stable organization and cohesiveness of our community is maintained through widespread agreements on what to produce, what to consume, what is valuable, what is proper behavior, what may be unacceptable, and so on.  We are socialized and made in ways that promote the stability and advancement of our communities.

Our socialization into a community is guided by two fairly obvious kinds of interests:

First, there are the interests of the community, reflecting the necessity of the maintenance of its organization and cohesiveness.  These interests guide the generation of shared knowledge and its transmission through socialization, knowledge that makes us, so that we can be members of the community.  This supports the sharing of a common life, of life as members of the same community, and ensures our mobilization for the needs of the community.

Second, there is our own personal interest that guides our socialization, our own interest in belonging.  In the early life of each one of us, when, as infants and children, are completely dependent on adults, we strive to engage and interact with others.  We actively seek to be socialized, to assimilate the ways of the people we depend on, and becoming a member of their community is necessary for our survival and growth.  As we grow older, we often seek to become a member of communities we develop an interest in – perhaps for learning a trade, for joining a profession, for pursuing access to resources, or simply for finding company to do things together with.  We learn and become socialized into the ways of the community we want to join, so that we can be accepted as members.  In the diverse contemporary societies, we frequently find ourselves belonging to and participating in several different communities we share things with, for example, from language, religion, cultural traditions or rituals, to the skills of our trade, affiliation with political parties, membership in sports and other clubs, or hobbies.

The Structure of the World

In our daily life we experience the world as a structured, organized environment within which we go on living, pursuing our affairs.  The structure of the world appears obvious to us, we take it for granted, we do not even notice it unless it is somehow disrupted, unless the world fails to conform to our expectations.  Our experience of the world as a structured environment is of course the expression of our knowledge, of our ability to perceive and act in this environment.  This knowledge and ability, which we have acquired through socialization into our community (Knowledge, ability, discipline), constitutes our own structure, the structure of the knower, it amounts to who we are.  And, as discussed previously, the structure of the world and the structure of the knower reflect each other (Compass).

The previous postings (Knowledge and Interests) however have also pointed out that knowledge is interested, is always associated with specific interests.  Knowledge has to be of use in order to be developed, be maintained, and be transmitted across generations.  Interests drive the tremendous effort required for developing the knowledge, the knowledge that underpins our experience of a structured world; interests also drive the tremendous effort expended for transmitting knowledge across generations.

Because the development, maintenance, and transmission of knowledge require effort, the structured, organized ways in which we experience our world reflect this effort and the interests that drove and drive it.  So, our experience of the world reflects interests that guided — and continue to guide — the knowledge that this experience is based on.  The maintenance and transmission of knowledge also maintains and transmits the associated interests.

Taking a look at how these considerations play out in our everyday life nowadays, most of us, for example, do not grow our own food.  In order to obtain food, we depend on the knowledge of the ones who produce it, as well as on that of the ones who transport and distribute it, not to mention the ones who regulate and check its quality.  The knowledge that food production is based on has developed over thousands of years and continues to be developed, offering a wide range of choices in terms of diet and lifestyle.  Nowadays, depending on availability and access, one can be vegetarian or vegan, limit oneself to ‘organic’ or non-genetically-modified food, food processed in a manner consistent with certain religious customs, food of a range of qualities and tastes, prepared at home or at a restaurant, and so on.  Our interest in nourishment, along with our interest in particular lifestyles (including, for example, ‘healthy living’ or adherence to certain religious practices) guides the development of our own personal knowledge for seeking and obtaining food.  These interests and knowledge of ours coordinate with the interests and knowledge of those who maintain the networks that make available to us the food we seek.

We can approach in the same vein our health, for example, whether we strive to develop a ‘healthy lifestyle’ in terms of diet, exercise and daily activities, whether we depend on mainstream medical experts for advice and treatment, or whether we seek the advice of non-mainstream alternative medicine experts.  We can also look at our communication with each other and our use of different communication media and gadgets, or our movement from place to place and our use of different means of transportation… And so on, and so forth…

The structure of the world we live in, the structure we experience, is organized by interests: interests that structure our environment in specific ways, guiding our perceptions and behavior; interests associated with the knowledge imparted to us during our socialization in particular communities.  And along with these, there are also our own interests that drive the development of knowledge through our own individual efforts and experience.

Expert Knowledge And Expert Interests

The association of knowledge with interests, that knowledge is always developed through guidance by interests, might begin to make one nervous.  We all depend on the specialized knowledge of others for our daily lives.  We depend on the ones who produce our food, on the ones who work the networks that transport and make it available to us, and also on inspectors who check on it at every stage, to make sure it is safe and is what it purports to be.  Same for our water supply, the places we live and dwell in, the removal of waste, sanitation, energy.  Not to mention the experts who work to provide us with health care and medicines, lawyers who assist us with navigating the framework of rules our societies are organized with, and so on and on and on…  We are all familiar with difficult situations when we have found ourselves in need of expert assistance.  Situations that can range from a leaky pipe in our house, or from a problem with our car, to illness.  Does the whole wall have to come down?  Does the car really need a new engine?  How serious is my illness and how appropriate or effective is the proposed treatment?  We cannot even judge whether the approach to our problem suggested by experts is relevant, feasible, how risky, or even how likely to succeed.  And we also realize that experts rely on making their expertise relevant to our problems in order to make a living.  Hence the well-worn advice to always seek a second expert opinion.

Our survival basically depends on the specialized knowledge, on the expertise of others.  At the same time, the survival of the ones with the specialized knowledge, of the experts themselves, depends on their expertise being useful, or at least being perceived of being useful, by the rest of us.  We are quite well aware of this need; we understand the interest of the experts in having their expert knowledge being actually used.  The awareness that experts have a vital interest in their knowledge being used makes us even more nervous.  We are all quite concerned about depending on someone else’s expert knowledge, as we usually have no way of evaluating that knowledge on our own.  Our concerns appear to be well-founded, as many times expert knowledge fails us.  Sometimes the failure is due to incompetence, for example when a medical doctor prescribes the wrong treatment per the standards of medical practice, or a driver fails to reduce speed and the train derails.  Sometimes the failure is due to fraud, for example when an engineer knowingly uses materials that are not up to specifications to build a house, or a car computer’s software has been adjusted to falsely indicate compliance with regulations.  Sometimes the failure is due to the limitations of expert knowledge.  After all, even authoritative expert knowledge changes with time, as, for example, is the case for medical advice for the treatment of certain conditions or the efficacy of particular drugs.

Expert knowledge is the result of a vast amount of hard work engaging with the material world.  It takes the sustained effort of many individuals to develop a field of specialized knowledge; effort that takes place over many years, decades, centuries even, with knowledge accumulating and transmitted across generations.  Individual experts do not rely on their own personal experience to tackle every challenge, or develop all their expert knowledge from scratch; they rely instead on the work and experience of previous generations and the training by older experts.  In short, expertise requires the existence of a community of experts, a community that persists over time.  Communities of experts maintain themselves by recruiting new members, training and socializing them into the specialized knowledge, the practices, the ways of the community.  The hard work required for the development and maintenance of expertise does not allow the experts to make a living independently and so the support of expert communities by the broader society is necessary.

These considerations highlight the interests that guide the development and maintenance of all expert knowledge.  Expert knowledge has to be promoted, valorized, and accepted as useful by society at large.  In addition, a community of experts has to be supported and maintained long-term, it has to persist across generations.  So, expert knowledge has to be integrated into the life of the broader society, and a sufficient number of experts has to be trained on a continuous basis.  Several expert communities have been eminently successful at achieving this.  The relevance of expertise in different areas of Physics, Chemistry or Biology for contemporary life is fairly obvious when we note the widespread use of, say, electronic devices, all sorts of synthetic chemicals, or genetically modified organisms.  Another obviously relevant area is Medicine, with regular health check-ups as well as diagnostic tests being strongly promoted by medical experts.  Accounting, Engineering, Agronomy, Geology, Sociology, Philology, Education, … the list of areas of expertise relevant to contemporary life is fairly long.  Again, for a field of expertise to stick around, it has to maintain its relevance for the broader society and new experts have to be produced continuously.  Otherwise, the particular experts will not be able to make a living, new experts will not be trained, and the particular expert knowledge will be lost.  Manual typesetting for printing, photographic film development, stenography, are a few examples of skills (and expertise) that are much less relevant nowadays or have even disappeared.  Many artisanal skills for example have disappeared with the mass production of goods, and many more may be lost with the advent of machine learning and automation.

It is not surprising that expert communities place a lot of emphasis on and put a lot of effort towards maintaining their relevance for the broader society.  In contemporary societies, a major way by which expert communities have advanced their interests is professionalization.  Professionalization promotes the establishment of training and performance standards for the particular expertise and safeguards the survival of the expert community within the broader society.  “Turf wars” among specialists for who gets to fulfill the needs of the broader society – and reap the corresponding rewards – are a common occurrence.  Conflicts among medical and nursing specialists, or among ophthalmologists and optometrists, or conflicts regarding who can inspect buildings, goods, accounting records… and so on.

The above considerations readily apply to scientific knowledge and expertise.  For fields of scientific expertise to survive, they have to maintain their broader relevance, and they have to keep training students to replenish their pool of experts.  Failure to do so results in the shrinking of the pool of experts and the eventual disappearance of the field of expertise.

Knowledge and Interests

Virtually all of the examples I have given before about learning and knowledge show them as goal-oriented, linked to the achievement of specific goals, developed with particular purposes in mind.  I learned how to use chopsticks so I could eat with them; Bian’s knowledge, including its unverbalizable dimensions, is for the express purpose of making wheels; I learn a language in order to communicate; Conklin learned how to discriminate colors as the Hanunoo did so that he could live with them; a student learns how to measure the color of an object scientifically so that she can become a scientist – and before that, several people wanted to measure the color of an object independently of place and time, in a standardized way that is, so that they could coordinate their practices across space and time; and so on.

Knowledge is always linked with the pursuit of specific interests, it is interested.

This aspect of knowledge, that it is associated with the pursuit of interests, is not surprising. I already hinted at this aspect of knowledge when discussing the importance of socialization for the coordination of community life and activities.  And with Science being a social activity, with scientific knowledge being developed by scientific communities, the point holds for scientific knowledge as well.  As I have highlighted before, we learn what we know through our socialization into a community, our knowledge is part and parcel of the way of life in the community, it expresses local aspirations and purposes, solutions to local problems and concerns.  The development of knowledge within a community is guided by the need to coordinate community life and activities, the need to maintain the community.  So, knowledge expresses the interests of the community within which it is developed; knowledge is interested.

But there is another more important reason that knowledge always expresses specific interests, even if we think beyond socialization and the association of knowledge with particular communities.  Knowledge is developed within a reality that is everywhere, always in excess.  Of course it takes effort to know, that is, to develop and establish a stable interaction with the material world; but with the material world being in excess, there are many ways in establishing such stable interactions.  So, the activity toward the development of knowledge has to be guided somehow, has to look for specifics, has to select particular patterns, and this looking and selection is informed by local goals, purposes, interests.  Different selections across cultures result in differences in the development of knowledge.  An example in point are cultural differences in color discrimination, with Hanunoo color categories being a particularly striking one.  Another example would be sound discrimination across languages, and I still remember my difficulty distinguishing between “cut” and “cat” in English, as Greek, with which I grew up, has a single “a” sound.  Greek also has a single tone, making my learning of Mandarin Chinese with its four tones an instructive challenge.  Gestalt pictures offer another way to make the point.

Sometimes the first steps toward developing new knowledge begin with play, with tinkering around with things we are familiar with, arranging them in different ways, seeing what stable patterns might emerge.  But from the stable patterns that emerge even during play, we do eventually settle on particular ones that suddenly appear interesting – say, for pursuing a goal or connecting with our existing knowledge.  So, knowledge is always developed informed by interests.  At the same time, knowledge reflects a stable pattern of interaction with the material world – regardless of its development in association with interests, it works!  Precisely because knowledge reflects a stable interaction with the material world, it can be repurposed, linked with novel interests, be used to pursue different goals from the original ones.  Examples abound: the knowledge that underpins today’s internet for example originated in association with military interests – to network computers for military purposes; it has obviously been repurposed in very many ways.

Although in general we recognize that knowledge may sometimes be developed in accordance with particular interests, we may also feel that it is possible that knowledge can be disinterested.  That somehow knowledge can be developed so that it just reflects a stable interaction with the material world, nothing more.  The notion that Science actually provides the way to develop such interest-free knowledge appears to be fairly widespread, so I will be addressing this issue in detail in the following post.

Getting One’s Bearings

We are now in a position to consider the possibility as well as desirability of change, that is, are there better ways of understanding and being in the world?

To begin with, the pursuit of change requires significant effort in order to engage with our world in novel ways.  Change requires that we successfully discipline ourselves along new dimensions, so that we perceive the world and conduct ourselves in novel ways.  It amounts to establishing a new way of being in the world and experiencing the world in new ways.  In other words, a change in our understanding of the world goes hand-in-hand with a change in ourselves, in who we are: a changed understanding of the world is accomplished by a changed human being.

However, the possibility of change is not considered in a vacuum.  The question of change cannot be asked in the absence of knowledge, and knowledge is indexical, specific to our socialization, our environment, and our own individual life experiences.  Growing up we were socialized into a particular community, lived and live within a particular environment and social milieu, and experience the world through particular frameworks. We already know, we have been disciplined, were made to know and act in such-and-such a way.  So, here is the rub: our notions of what may comprise a better understanding of our world, what way of life to aspire to, are informed by who we already are, indeed, they are an expression of who we already are.  Not too surprisingly, we might actually wish for incompatible things, we might even be conflicted about our aspirations.

Then, how are we to proceed, how are we to evaluate our current ways, including what we have been socialized into, and decide towards what to put our efforts in?  As I wrote before, our socialization rarely provides us with tools for such an endeavor.  A most important goal of our socialization – our disciplining through socialization – is to mobilize us for the needs of our community: our perceptions of the world and our actions are actively guided and coordinated to produce social organization and ensure its stability. 

The Compass provides specific guidance: we actually know who we are.  We are in a very concrete sense projected onto the world, as we experience reality through features we have been shaped to recognize, to latch on, to orient ourselves and act accordingly.  We can literally see who we are from how we perceive and act.  Being aware of our knowledge, of who we are, allows us to probe how we acquired it and evaluate it.  Was it through our schooling?  From our parents?  From our peers or maybe from some ‘authority’ appearing in the mass media?  And where does it come from?  How much and what kind of human effort went into developing it?  Is what we know an expression of wishful thinking?  Was it something we were inculcated with to facilitate our integration into and mobilization for our community?  Or does it reflect the outcome of human effort, perhaps our own?  Of course, we cannot personally evaluate each and every bit and facet of the human knowledge that maintains our everyday lives, or even our own knowledge that underlies our daily experience.  But we can have a pretty decent sense if not where our knowledge is coming from, at least of how well we understand its origins.  And if we deem something as being of particular significance, we can always probe and look into it further.

Our experience of the world provides the feedback we need for evaluating our efforts towards change.  As we put effort into doing things in a different way, say, learn new skills or make new friends, our knowledge changes, we change, and we can see how we change from the new ways in which we experience the world.  The extent of change will of course be commensurate with the effort, the extent and type of effort, we put into it.  We are what we do.

Compass

I feel we are at a point where we can begin to address the questions posed in the first postings of the blog.  Namely, what do we make of a world that can accommodate a wide diversity of cultures and of ways of perceiving and engaging with it; and, since we can actually change our way of living in the world, is there any sense in which certain ways may be preferable?  The previous posts can be distilled into three main points, which I feel describe our common human experience of living in the world.

  1. First, we are aware of very little, of a tiny sliver, of the world.  This is of course commonplace, but this lack of awareness extends to our own bodies and what they are continuously doing to support and sustain our perception and actions.  Reality is in excess, here and now, always and everywhere.  And of the very little we are aware of, we can put into words even less, a point beautifully made by Bian the wheelwright.
  2. Second, all knowledge about the world is the result of hard work.  It involves the effort to learn to perceive and recognize specific patterns, so as to orient ourselves and guide our actions accordingly.  It also involves the effort to learn how to carry out specific activities successfully.  An important aspect of this hard work is the standardization of perception and performance, which provides the basis of our socialization into particular communities.  It is through this standardization that knowledge – and the work of multitudes that it is based upon – is transmitted across space and time.  A lot of related work goes into structuring and organizing the environment to support and guide our perceptions and conduct.  And it is the extension of standardization across times and places that the power of science emanates from.
  3. Third, our knowledge of the world defines us. Knowledge amounts to discipline of perception and conduct. This disciplining of our bodies makes us who we are – knowing amounts to being in a certain way.  Our knowledge rests on our abilities to perceive and act in specific ways, how we place and orient ourselves in the world and how we engage with it.  With knowledge being the result of hard work, the effort we expend on learning how to perceive and act is precisely the effort that disciplines our bodies and shapes us into particular beings.

I view the three points above as a compass with which to orient ourselves in the world we live in.  First, it is important to keep in mind that our knowledge about the world and about ourselves, even our awareness about what we do here and now, is very limited.  Second, when we consider what is presented as knowledge, including our own knowledge, a most relevant question is where did this knowledge come from, how, through what effort was it developed?  And third, that knowledge also reflects who the knower is, their understanding of themselves and in relation to the world, and how they conduct themselves.

One might feel that the compass lacks specifics, but specifics can only be the outcome of work, which is always particular to a place and time and associated with a way of being.  When we embark on learning something new or on developing new knowledge, this effort also shapes us in novel ways.  In future posts I will be shifting my focus to specifics, to maps, which by their nature will be particular to my own vantage point, my own place in the world.

Knowledge, Ability, Discipline

The posts on the Duhem-Quine Thesis and on the Power of Science pointed to the standardization of performance and of tools as the basis for engaging consistently with the world.  The examples about how to measure scientifically the color of an object or determine the species of an animal highlighted the role played by training in bringing about this standardization.  We are of course all familiar with training, with the instruction, repetition and practice, with the supervision and the checking and cross-checking that goes into achieving mastery of a performance.  For example, the scientific determination of the color of an object depends on the rigorous training of the individuals who carry out the measurements, training that ensures consistency of performance and results. 

Of course, this process of training is not limited to the scientific ways of doing things; it is how we learn virtually all of what we do on a daily basis.  This is how I learned the use of chopsticks, by watching my friends, then trying on my own under their guidance, kept on practicing, and finally managed to eat successfully using them.  This is how we learn a language, listening and speaking, reading and writing, with others who already know it correcting us, and eventually using it to communicate successfully. The standardization of perception and behavior through training is at the basis of our socialization into a community: from learning the language, to using eating utensils and exhibiting proper table manners, to following dress codes and traffic rules when driving…  Similar standardization underlies the socialization into a community of people with specialized abilities, such as doctors, nurses, teachers, soldiers, pilots, lawyers, or farmers.  Guilds of course come to mind.  A scientific community is but one example of people with specialized abilities acquired through training.

We are all familiar with this process of training, with how we get to acquire abilities and skills, with how we learn.  It takes discipline, discipline of perception and of behavior.  Ability and knowledge involve the development of a disciplined performance through the patterning of perception and behavior.  It is on the basis of this patterning that we foreground particular features of our environment, recognize and manipulate objects, behave in a certain way, so that a stable, consistent interaction with our environment can come about.

Of course, as we are all aware, socialization is not the only way that we develop stable and consistent interactions with our environment: we also do it individually, on our own.  Sometimes during play, or while we are going about doing something else, we become aware of a novel pattern, a pattern that we pursue; sometimes, while tinkering, trying to solve a problem, things fall into place and new, unexpected configurations of actions emerge.  Then we fashion these novel patterns and actions into a stable interaction with the world by standardizing our performance, essentially by training ourselves on our own through individual direct engagement with our environment.  A newly developed ability can then be communicated and shared with others, who might adopt or modify it, pick it up or ignore it.  All stable interactions with the world, whether learned through socialization or de novo through self-learning, are based on a consistency of performance, a consistency that we achieve through discipline.  The disciplining of performance, of perception and action, is at the basis of any ability.

Knowing amounts to perceiving certain patterns and acting in particular ways.  It is the assimilation of these specific patterns and actions, this patterning of our perceptions and behavior that constitutes our abilities.  At the same time, this patterning is exactly us, amounts to what we are.  In other words, in order to develop a stable interaction with the world, we have to perceive the world and conduct ourselves in specific ways, we have to be in a certain way.  The abilities that underlie our knowledge are constitutive of who, of what we are.   We are what we know, we are what we do. And we make frequent use of this connection, as when we note the way a soldier carries himself, a lawyer talks, or a farmer looks at a garden.  This connection further means that by virtue of having acquired knowledge in a particular domain, other domains of human knowledge would not be readily accessible to us.  I have previously used the rabbit/duck image to point to this sense of mutual exclusion; a more compelling real-life example was the case of somatization of marital problems among Hindus, a somatization that would not occur in the same way among, say, Christians.  So, being able to perceive and do something entails being unable to perceive and do something else.  Knowing certain things also means not knowing – not having the ability to know – other things.

Some Thoughts On Human Nature

Nikos has brought up a few questions, about “human nature” and “universals” across cultures, along with a question regarding a “language instinct.”

I think it is fairly obvious – meaning that we would all agree, across cultures – that there is something that we refer to as “human nature.”  The basis for this agreement is the common experience of the capacities, potentialities, dispositions present in newborns across cultures (hence the possibility of adoptions across cultures), as well as our ability, even in adult life, to join a different culture.  We are all born with “something,” which then develops and crystallizes through our interaction with our environment, as we have discussed before .  It is important to keep in mind that the shaping of our potentialities (our central nervous system if you like) through interaction with the environment begins very soon after birth.  In addition, the first few years of life are a critical period for providing the basis for the continuing development of abilities that are important in later life (like language skills) – if the environment does not provide sufficient resources during this early period, it is very difficult to “catch up” later.  The importance of this early period for our development suggests that when we look at someone’s abilities in later life we cannot readily attribute them to what the person was born with or what their environment provided.  Even in cases where we can identify a problem with the infant at birth, their future development may well reflect inadequacies of their environment (for example, vision or hearing problems that though treatable were not addressed).

It is difficult to stress enough that “nature” develops discernible features through “nurture.”  I find the nature/nurture dichotomy deeply misleading, as there is a dynamic interplay between the two.  An example I find helpful for highlighting this point is imprinting in ducks: ducklings will follow as their mother the first object they see after hatching.  Their brain circuitry is primed to be shaped through the experience of the first moving object provided by their environment – and if this object happens to be Konrad Lorenz, that’s who they follow.  A related example is provided by reed warbler mothers that feed cuckoo bird chicks whose eggs hatched in their nest.  Their brain circuitry is looking for something to feed – and if this object happens to be a cuckoo bird chick, that’s who they will feed.

Konrad Lorenz followed by ducklings
Reed warbler feeding a cuckoo chick

In terms of “universals” across human cultures, we would all agree I think about the existence of similarities.  Humans share a common biology (fairly evident as we can reproduce across cultures), and this common biology involves a long period of postnatal development and maturation and living in communities in the same material world.  Cultures will likely encounter similar challenges and may well develop similar tools to tackle them.  Of course we will find similarities across cultures!  At the same time, the challenges and solutions may well reflect the specifics of the particular environment of a culture, as well as the specifics of the particular population.  But I am not sure what “universals” in the abstract might be referring to.

Along the same lines, we may well agree that language is found across human cultures.  Communication is necessary for living in a community and we have several combinations of sensory and motor channels we could and do use: auditory, visual, haptic (touch) for example for sensory; vocal chords and mouth, hands and fingers for motor, etc.  Becoming and being part of a community is vital for the survival of a human being, hence the presence of a strong drive for communication and the priming of our nervous system to be shaped through communication (someone might call this “language instinct” I guess) – shaped through the receiving of sensory inputs and the providing of corresponding motor outputs.  The communication tools are of course refined, developed, and standardized over time, depending on needs, challenges, or newly available technologies.  It is also important to keep in mind that we use plenty of sensorimotor information during communication (body posture, facial expressions, tone of voice, and so on), and not only what we may strictly refer to as language.

Some final thoughts that I feel are important for maintaining perspective when talking about “human nature,” “universals” and “language instinct.”  One is that plenty of animals live in groups and we may well find several interesting similarities with them – see for example Frans de Waal’s work about other primates.  Another is that animals that live in groups engage in communication, providing interesting examples to consider when thinking about language, the dissemination of whale songs across pods coming to mind.  And last but not least, Alex, the African Grey parrot who learned how to talk, reaching the level of a human toddler.

The Power of Science

The previous three posts on Truth, Science, and the Duhem-Quine Thesis make a strong, even obvious, argument for the importance of our socialization in our engagement with the material world.  Our socialization is a constituent part of our knowledge, of our ways of going about in the world.  What is more, these posts make the case for scientific knowledge itself being the product of socialization into particular communities, scientific communities, which have their own specialized ways of engaging with the world.  It is the specialized abilities developed by the different scientific communities that underlie scientific knowledge.  The abilities, for example, that allow us to measure the color of an object, or extract and analyze the DNA of an animal.

But if scientific knowledge is the product of socialization, of specialized abilities developed within particular communities, then scientific knowledge is actually local knowledge, knowledge that is specific to these particular communities.  How do we then account for the indisputable power of Science, for scientific knowledge being the basis of so many aspects of our lives, a basis independent of our own socialization?

The discussion of the examples in the previous post, measuring the color of an object and analyzing the DNA of an animal, point to what is going on.  The scientific approach may involve the specialized abilities of individuals, but these abilities have been acquired through supervised training, with the explicit goal of ensuring consistency, that is, of getting the same results regardless of the individual – what matters is doing things according to the training.  The performance reflecting these abilities has been checked and cross-checked many times, by different individuals, at different places, and at different times, and the performance has been adjusted and fine-tuned as necessary. Along with this standardized performance of trained individuals, scientific measurements involve the use of standardized equipment, equipment that has been constructed, checked and cross-checked to perform consistently at different places and at different times.  Indeed, there are standardized procedures (frequently referred to as calibration) that ensure that the equipment is performing as expected. 

It is this standardization of individual performances and tools that underlies the extension of scientific knowledge beyond the boundaries of the particular communities.  And this extension takes a tremendous amount of effort to put in place and subsequently maintain it.  One way to think of scientific knowledge is in terms of the development and dissemination of standards, of immutable mobiles, things that remain unchanged as we take them to different places to assist us in ensuring consistency.  Tools, machines, or chemicals readily come to mind, as we continuously ship them around, regularly exchanging them, allowing the comparison of our actions and experiences across locales and times.  Integral to the successful diffusion of these standards is of course the availability of appropriately trained individuals with the abilities to use them.

And so this is where Science derives its power from: not from special access to the world or a special way of engaging with it, but from the systematic hard work across times and places to standardize our interaction with the world – the scale is immense indeed, indicating the enormous amount of work involved.  The scientific approach achieves that by the standardizing of abilities and conduct through training, and by developing tools, machines, chemicals, and other standards, to ensure the consistency of our interaction with the world.  When considering the scale of effort that goes into this standardization, it is important to keep in mind an essential element of the scientific approach, namely its emphasis on communication, on expressing scientific knowledge in forms that can be easily communicated and shared.  And what is being shared ranges from methods and protocols, what we might call how-to’s, to theories and maps, descriptions that is, to organize our experience and guide what we do.  This communicability allows not only for sharing, but also for the accumulation of scientific knowledge – in some form at least – and its transmission across time and space.  There is a cumulative effect in other words that helps sustain the immense scale over which scientific knowledge is applicable.

We are actually fairly familiar with the importance of standardization, as breakdowns that result from incompatibilities in standards are not an uncommon experience.  There are plenty of Bureaus of Weights and Measures across the world, institutes that store standards and instruments developed by scientific communities.  These standards and instruments allow the comparison of someone’s scales for measuring, length, time, weight, electricity, and so on, with those of others, elsewhere.  In this way, items made in one place can be used elsewhere, the threads of a screw made in Illinois will match the threads of hole in a car assembled in Michigan, the weight of vegetables put in a package in Mexico will match the weight measured in a grocery store in Canada, the cell phone chargers made in Korea will work in Europe, and so on. And there are continuous efforts to work out agreements and establish standards that will ensure compatibility in areas of manufacturing, electronics, communications.