Sunday, September 26, 2004
Language and reality
Whorf supports his claim that we “cut up nature, organise it into concepts, and ascribe significances as we do, largely because we are parties to an agreement to organise it in this way” by comparing the tendency of English speakers to organise our language into verbs and nouns by temporal delineations, and also by pointing out the semantic differences in our terms for labelling events.
When Whorf describes the categorisation of certain words, such as ‘run’, ‘hide’, and ‘strike’ he points out that these are verbs because they are used to denote events that are short-term. He then asks why it is, then, that certain words, such as ‘fist’ or ‘stance’ would be considered nouns, when they also describe temporary events. Whereas some concepts, which would be thought of as long-term in the English language, such as ‘house’ is in the Nootka language a verb, ‘it houses’ or ‘a house occurs’. This argument, detailed in ‘Science and Linguistics’ (Whorf: Language, Thought and Reality, pp.207-19) supports his claim that what governs our categorising of the world is in fact an arbitrary agreement we have come to as speakers of the English language.
Another argument by Whorf suggests that we use different semantic descriptions for the same events is hinted at in ‘Science and Linguistics and detailed in his essay ‘Languages and Logic’ (Whorf: Language, Thought and Reality, pp.233-45). He argues that since we use different concept to describe the same events, we must also understand the world in entirely different manners. When he contrasts the English sentences ‘The boat is grounded on the beach’ with ‘The boat is manned by picked men’ to their Nootka counterparts, he shows that whilst the two sentences are very similar in English, the two sentences bear little resemblance in Nootka. He suggests that this is because English focuses on reporting the event as is, whilst in Nootka, there is an implicit ‘why’ in the sentences, causing the sentences to focus rather on the reason the boat may be grounded on the beach and what for the men are in the boat.
In quoting Whorf in her article ‘Man Made Language’ Dale Spender seeks to explore the manner in which the English language uses certain biases to construct a sexist reality. Whorf claims that it is impossible to invent new terms outside of the accepted system, likening it to making “fried eggs without eggs” (1976:256). This supports her main thesis, that men have the power of ‘naming’ and use the biases already existent in English in a seemingly objective manner to invent names that perpetuate male supremacy and female sub-ordinance. In stating, “names are essential for the construction of reality” (Dale Spender: Man Made Language, pp. 163-71), she argues that without names, we are unable to perceive the world around us. She claims that without the aid of names, we exist in a world where all thoughts, ideas, objects and feelings are a chaotic mass, and it is only through labelling these items that we are able to think and act. She argues that since men have traditionally been the ‘namers’ it is now almost impossible to name things in a manner which is positively biased towards females or neutral without being ‘political’. She shows how in history, the rewriting and editing of the bible was a process whereby male intellectuals omitted positive female images over time. To her, this is a cycle which can only be deconstructed with time and careful ‘naming’.
Whilst Dale Spender uses Whorf’s claims to support her thesis, Steven Pinker is highly critical of them. Whorf argues from a basis of experimental thought, showing very little scientific evidence for any of his claims, while Pinker uses logic and evidence to argue his point. Whorf’s style may be said to be largely narrative, whereas Pinker’s arguments are generally logical. The central point to Pinker’s essay, Mentalese (Pinker: Ch.3 of The Language Instinct, pp. 55-82) is an antithesis to Whorf’s biased and circular manner of argument. In stating that people who speak differently from English speakers must also think differently, Whorf is unable to back this up with anything other than examples in language itself. Hence, Pinker is right in pointing out that the argument, ‘speakers of language X use different grammars and different words to label the world than do speakers of language Y, and therefore speakers of language X and speakers of language Y think differently’ is a false one, as there is no clause in this argument that directly links language with thought. As Pinker points out, Whorf’s argument is one based entirely on grammar. He does not, at any point, outline how it is, exactly, that our thoughts differ from that of speakers of Apache, Shawnee or Nootka. Whorf has designed his examples to perpetuate our pre-existing images of the ‘different’ or ‘exotic’ people speaking different and exotic languages. He only shows that the languages differ and concludes, perhaps too rashly, that our thoughts must also be intrinsically different, relying entirely on the reader’s pre-conceived biases towards a group of people that they are unfamiliar with.
Steven Pinker shows that there are alternatives to thinking that a language necessarily defines thought. His most compelling example is that of the Turing machine, which shows, through a system of symbols, that language is merely a system which thought can ascribe to. The machine that does not have any capabilities of thought is able to formulate conclusions and construct sentences which would be logical to speakers of any language, given that symbols are used in consistency, and there is a prescribed syntactic rule which does not mean anything to the machine. This shows that language is not the basis of our thought, but rather a system through which we process our thoughts.
He illustrates, then, examples of beings which show signs of thought despite the lack of a language system, such as babies, deaf adults who have not been exposed to language, and also primates, all of which are able to link and make connections between sets of objects without the aid of language. He goes on to argue that if these beings were unable to naturally differentiate between objects or ideas in the world, they would also be unable, then, to learn anything new. This is shown in the manner in which people with no language, such as Ildefonso and Helen Keller, learn by requesting names for already existing concepts in their minds.
While Steven Pinker does make a strong case against thought relying entirely on language, he fails to explore fully the concept of whether or not language then affects thoughts or culture to any extent. As a native speaker of three unrelated languages (Thai, Finnish and English), I would say that my own view of the world does not in any way change upon switching from one language to another. This supports Steven Pinker’s claim of there being an ingrained form of mentalese. However, Pinker’s arguments are based around the capabilities of the individual to think outside a language, and he fails to explore the impact that language might have on culture. While, as individuals, we can be made to understand concepts outside of our own language and culture, there is no denying that there are certain meaningful units used in some languages that have no direct translation in others. While this does not necessarily imply that those who do not think in this language are unable to conjure up images of those things once they are explained to them, it does show that some groups of people are more inclined to think about certain concepts more actively than those who have no names for certain concepts. The largest flaw in Steven Pinker’s argument is that of removing individuals from context. He may make a case for individuals being able to see the world in any light, given the proper tutoring, but he does not, however, make a case against language influencing thought, insofar as this is viewed from an anthropological viewpoint.
fon @ 4:13 AM link to post * *
Thursday, September 16, 2004
The ultimate good.
In the opening of the Euthydemus, Socrates asks of Cleinias whether our ‘prospering’ depends on the possession of genuine goods, and whether health, beauty, wealth, etc. are such goods. Aristotle’s argues that a good life is achievable given the opportunities to exercise our capacities to reason, and will thus lead to Eudaimoneia. The factors that give us the opportunity to reason are the abovementioned ‘goods’.
Luck and good fortune in the Socratic view are merely by-products of wisdom. A truly wise person will always act well and always prosper, thus has no need of good fortune. However, this leads to a very rigid sense of knowledge. His idea for knowledge allows for no mistakes, and results in only an all-knowing individual being able to act wisely. It is true that we’ll have a higher chance of acting well given the proper knowledge, but it is not clear that we will always succeed without the help of luck. Here Socrates’ view that luck is superfluous is suspect.
The good things, from which humans benefit are, to Socrates, not ultimate goods – they are only beneficial to people insofar as they have the proper knowledge with which to use them. Thus, a rich man with proper knowledge can use his funds wisely, and a rich man who is foolish will not benefit from his money. A fool with no money will not be able to misuse this good, and thus cause less harm. In arguing, however, that wisdom is the necessary condition for benefiting from these goods, Socrates stumbles. In most cases, this would be true, but it cannot be said that a fool will necessarily misuse the goods that he possesses, and thus wisdom is not necessary for the proper use to goods, it is simply a condition that will aid in the proper use of them. It is possible to argue, however, that having wisdom is necessary in the understanding of whether or not the goods have been used in a beneficial manner.
Socrates argues that since conditional goods, such as health, wealth and beauty require wisdom for proper usage, then wisdom must be the greatest good of all. As wisdom does not require anything else to be beneficial, unlike the lesser goods, wisdom must in itself be the only thing that is good by nature. Furthermore, since the lesser goods depend upon wisdom being present in order to actually be goods, they can be said not be goods at all. Therefore, if wisdom is the only good that is self-sufficient, wisdom must be that which is sufficient for a happy life.
Socrates blunders in his claim that wisdom is, in itself, sufficient for a happy life. In outlining the lesser goods, I feel that Socrates is taking a step in the right direction, but to expel them from the picture completely with his claim of wisdom being sufficient for happiness is highly questionable. His earlier argument of a wise man using the lesser goods well to achieve happiness, and a foolish man using these goods poorly resulting in evil is clearly defensible. However, his sufficiency claim would have to agree that a poor, ugly and sickly man would be happy insofar as he was wise. This seems to imply the notion of acceptance into Socrates notion of wisdom, or else a view that wisdom would ultimately generate all of the goods. Perhaps a man that accepts his fate would ultimately be happy, but there is nothing in the context of wisdom that links the two together. If he argues that wisdom would generate the goods, then this detracts from the view that wisdom is of itself sufficient for happiness. This cannot be so, if the goal of wisdom then, is to generate the goods.
fon @ 4:09 AM link to post * *