Tag: S. I. Hayakawa

  • Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off

    In the 1960s, running arguments were often tackled mid-field with the rebuttal, “Oh, that’s just semantics.” The argument was dismissed as being about words rather than ideas. For example:

    A says, “It’s not a just war.”
    B replies, “There’s no such thing as a just war.”
    A says, “Now you’re just getting into semantics.”

    In his second comment, A claims B is not addressing the war with moral evaluation, that B is changing the subject. A might sound right, but he’s using rhetoric as avoidance, while B’s claim is definitively not just semantics; it’s a rejection of A’s moral premise.

    The other day, I mentioned S. I. Hayakawa’s “The Use and Misuse of Language.” It’s a collection of essays selected and edited by Hayakawa, originally published in “ETC.: A Review of General Semantics,” from 1943 to 1962.

    “The Use and Misuse of Language” is still relevant today, and as we are so distanced from most of its content, is less likely to cause friction where it otherwise might – no one has an interest in the Edsel anymore, yet certain cars are certainly still laying eggs. In his Foreword, Hayakawa quickly clarifies what he means by semantics:

    “In general semantics, when we concern ourselves with how people talk, we are not worrying about the elegance of their pronunciation or the correctness of their grammar. Basically we are concerned with the adequacy of their language as a ‘map’ of the ‘territory’ of experience being talked about” (vii).

    What words we choose and how we choose them (by hook or by crook) are important considerations for the semanticist. But we may not feel we’re making word by word decisions. So what’s to look for? Still in his introduction, Hayakawa says:

    “What general semanticists mean by ‘language habits’ is the entire complex of (1) how we talk – whether our language is specific or general, descriptive or inferential or judgmental; and (2) our attitudes toward our own remarks – whether dogmatic or open-minded, rigid or flexible….Words, then, are more than descriptions of the territory of human experience; they are evaluations. How we think and evaluate is inextricably bound up with how we talk” (vii-viii).

    Hayakawa was interested in how language affects thought and action. But for the common reader today semantics might still be considered just semantics, an ironic and circular argument that points to but doesn’t explain the gap between technical meaning and a shout in the street. Does the word semantics suggest a method of study or dismissal of one’s statement? Does it call out perceived errors in pronunciation or attempt to explain what’s really being said? Does semantics “call the whole thing off” or try to mediate?

    But let’s take a look at Hayakawa’s book for an overview, one we might glimpse from just the titles of a few selected pieces, which might come as a surprise and entertainment, not what we might expect if we thought it was a tome of academic exercises:

    “Popular Songs vs. the Facts of Life”
    “Sexual Fantasy and the 1957 Car”
    “Why the Edsel Laid an Egg: Motivational Research vs. the Reality Principle”

    Above, we see popular subjects then as now: songs, cars. And below, arguments, how to write, and while psychologists have taken pains to craft what they do as a science, the art of something most of us don’t get to use:

    “Why Discussions Go Astray”
    “You Can’t Write Writing”
    “The Art of Psychoanalysis”

    There are 18 essays, not including the Foreword and Introduction, so I’ve just picked a sampling. Now I’ll select a single sentence from each of the above essays, that, out of context, might cause laughter or argument, but hopefully at least some reader curiosity.

    Matching Game

    Pick the essay (from the six above) to which the extracted sentence (below) belongs (answers are at the bottom of the post, or click on the footnote number):

    “American males, according to a point of view widely held among Freudian critics of our culture, are afraid of sex.”1

    “Very often it is by the expression of differences of opinion and interest that ideas are clarified and solutions worked out.”2

    “Students of general semantics are familiar enough with psychiatric concepts to know that when the world of reality proves unmanageable, a common practice is to retreat into a symbolic world, since symbols are more manageable and predictable than the existential realities for which they stand.”3

    “Perhaps the most powerful weapon in the analyst’s arsenal is the use of silence.”4

    “Different people have different needs, with respect both to transportation and self-expression.”5

    “Only to the extent that the various readers of a statement agree as to the specific conditions or observations required for ascertaining its validity can the question of its validity have meaning.”6

    In creating the game, where you match the excerpt with the essay it came from, I had in mind a recent article in The New Yorker online, which says the new Pope, Pope Leo, plays The New York Times game called “Wordle.” And at the same time I noticed The New Yorker has created its own similar game, called “Shuffalo.” The Pope article (a Profile by Paul Elie) is behind the paywall, but I’ll give you the part I’m referring to:

    “Made famous overnight, he stuck to a Midwestern matter-of-factness: he addressed the cardinals who’d elected him in flat-vowelled English, phoned his family daily, kept up his morning habit of doing the Times’ Wordle puzzle, and sent e-mails and texts from his personal accounts.”

    These online games, though they may cause some readers headaches, are obviously very popular. And I was thinking a game’s the thing to make the blog more enjoyable for my intended common reader audience (though any reader is of course welcome).

    But “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off”?

    “You say tomato, I say tomahto.”

    It’s not how we speak but how we listen that’s most important, including how we listen to ourselves. Listening to oneself is not easy; one might consider calling the whole thing off. “If they understand that their utterances are about the state of their own minds,” Hayakawa said, “that is something else again” (vii). Maybe that’s why silence is sometimes so effective. Once experience has been folded into a particular verbal shape, like a paper map out of the glovebox, it resists being refolded along the same creases.

    ~~~

    Here are the answers to which sentences go with which essay, the matching game:

    1. “Sexual Fantasy and the 1957 Car” p. 164 ↩︎
    2. “Why Discussions Go Astray” p.29 ↩︎
    3. “Popular Songs vs the Facts of Life” p. 155 ↩︎
    4. “The Art of Psychoanalysis” p. 210 ↩︎
    5. “Why the Edsel Laid an Egg” p. 169 ↩︎
    6. “You Can’t Write Writing” p. 107 ↩︎
    Map
  • Fantasy Democracy: Notes on Capital, Politics, and Voting

    fantasy-democracyLouis Menand’s “The Marketplace of Ideas: Reform and Resistance in the American University” (2010) questions why forms of higher education have been so intractable against change. One reason suggested is the surprising conservatism revealed of professors as a group, surprising because professors are often associated with more liberal stances and presumed to understand the connections between one’s views and why one might hold those views. Understanding and questioning one’s own assumptions and presuppositions are important antidotes to the poisons of propaganda. Menand describes the 2007 national survey conducted by Gross and Simmons of full time faculty members. Part time instructors were not included, a group that no doubt would have presented particular “methodological challenges” (134), because the adjunct does not share homogeneous characteristics to a group of tenured professors. In any case, more important to notes on a fantasy democracy is Menand’s reference to an older study of the population as a whole.

    That study found that

    “In the general population, most people do not know what it means to identify themselves as liberals or conservatives. People will report themselves to be liberals in an opinion poll and then answer specific questions with views normally thought of as conservative. People also give inconsistent answers to the same questions over time” (134 – 135).

    In footnotes, Menand explains the primary sources of his research: “Gross and Simmons used a number of measures to confirm the self-reporting: for example, they correlated answers to survey questions about political persuasion and political party with views on specific issues, such as the war in Iraq, abortion, homosexual relations, and so on” (134), while in “the classic study [of the general population]…results have been much confirmed” (135). That study, by Philip Converse, titled “The Nature of Belief Systems in Mass Publics,” was published in Ideology and Discontent, in 1964.

    Why would the explanations of the average person on the street not correlate, be inconsistent, even incoherent? Menand says,

    “This is because most people are not ideologues – they don’t have coherent political belief systems – and their views on the issues do not hang together. Their reporting is not terribly accurate” (135-136).

    That they nevertheless vote for people and issues they think they understand but probably don’t might simply create some random noise in the results, filtered out by some law of large numbers; or, what we think of as our democracy is a kind of fantasy, but one that, like fantasy sports teams, is based on a reality, and can be a lot fun, lucrative, or provide for any number of teachable moments and lessons learned. Outcomes often include random or chance influence.

    An example of the questioning of assumptions and presuppositions as important to understanding causal correlations can be found in Thomas Piketty’s “Capital in the Twenty-First Century” (2014). At the end of his Introduction, Piketty says,

    “The history of income and wealth is always deeply political, chaotic, and unpredictable. How this history plays out depends on how societies view inequalities and what kinds of policies and institutions they adopt to measure and transform them. No one can foresee how these things will change in the decades to come. The lessons of history are nevertheless useful, because they help us to see a little more clearly what kinds of choices we will face in the coming century and what sorts of dynamics will be at work….Since history always invents its own pathways, the actual usefulness of these lessons from the past remains to be seen. I offer them to readers without presuming to know their full import” (35).

    Piketty’s primary statement, his argument, is expressed in a simple formula that illustrates a fundamental inequality in the creation and distribution of wealth that promotes ever greater risk of variance or disparity between the wealthy and the rest of society. The formula is

    r > g (where r stands for the average annual rate of return on capital, including profits, dividends, interest, rents, and other income from capital, expressed as a percentage of its total value, and g stands for the rate of growth of the economy, that is, the annual increase in income or output)” (25).

    What happens when r is much greater than g? Piketty says that

    “it is almost inevitable that inherited wealth will dominate wealth amassed from a lifetime’s labor by a wide margin” (26).

    And what when that happens? The divergence of inequality reaches

    “levels potentially incompatible with the meritocratic values and principles of social justice fundamental to modern democratic societies” (26).

    In other words, inequality reaches such an extreme that democracy is at risk of becoming a fantasy. There is of course much more to Piketty than appears here (his book runs to 685 pages). But how might politics and voting influence wealth divergence such that r does not become overly concentrated and grow at a rate that increasingly continues to outpace g, undermining the very structure on which the accepted values (what is wanted) of the society in question are based, undermining the structure to an unsustainable level, and the whole system collapses? Collapse is what Karl Marx predicted.

    Was Marx wrong? “Not yet,” says Louis Menand in a recent New Yorker article:

    “Marx was also not wrong about the tendency of workers’ wages to stagnate as income for the owners of capital rises. For the first sixty years of the nineteenth century—the period during which he began writing “Capital”—workers’ wages in Britain and France were stuck at close to subsistence levels. It can be difficult now to appreciate the degree of immiseration in the nineteenth-century industrial economy. In one period in 1862, the average workweek in a Manchester factory was eighty-four hours.”

    And wages are once again at stagnation, benefits at a minimum, if any level at all, pensions something your grandfather once had, and if you’re an adjunct instructor, your 84 hours are made up working on eight different campuses simultaneously.

    “How we think and evaluate,” said S. I. Hayakawa in his Introduction to “The Use and Misuse of Language” (1962), is inextricably bound up with how we talk.

    “If our spoken evaluations are hasty and ill-considered, it is likely that our unspoken ones are even more so….the unexamined key-words in our thought processes, whether ‘fish’ or ‘free enterprise’ or ‘the military mind’ or ‘the Jews’ or ‘creeping socialism’ or ‘bureaucracy,’ can, by creating the illusion of meaning where no clear-cut meaning exists, hinder and misdirect our thought” (viii).

    The use of “unexamined key-words” permeating portals such as Twitter and Facebook, both of which are largely venues for “unspoken evaluations,” provides a contemporary example of Hayakawa’s example of how

    “all prejudices work in just this way – racial, ideological, religious, natural, occupational, or regional. Like the man who ‘doesn’t like fish,’ there are the ideologically muscle-bound who ‘don’t like the profit system’ whether it manifests itself in a corner newsstand or in General Motors, or who ‘reject government intervention in business’ no matter what kind of intervention in what kinds of business for what purpose” (viii).

    Hayakawa was concerned not with the “correctness” of people’s talk, but with “the adequacy of their language as a ‘map’ of the ‘territory’ of experience being talked about” (vii).

    That territory is now pockmarked with unhappiness and anxiety across the whole landscape of voting experience, as the “keywords” of its mapping search features illustrate: “pussy,” “locker room,” “wall.”

    Where a pussy might be an opening in a locker room wall. I had a bit of juvenile fun on my own Facebook page recently. And it’s always interesting to see what keywords incite what reaction when they trigger the unspoken. I was working with satire and sarcasm (one difference being that satire usually has a target, while sarcasm is closer to farce, which is comedy without a target). Anyway, here are the posts I put up over the span of a few days:

    Trump tries to woo Nobel Committee, says, “I’m going to make poetry rhyme again!”

    Trump to dig moat around his locker room and fill it with crocodile tears.

    English majors organizing to protest musician winning Nobel for Literature.

    Trump to build wall around his locker room to keep Media out; meanwhile, Hillary advocates for Locker Rooms Without Borders.

    Trump to defecting GOP supporters: “Wait! I’m going to make Mud Wrestling great again!”

    Trump to open new restaurant franchise called Locker Rooms, to compete with Hooters.

    Leak reveals Trump’s locker room not as big as he claimed.

    Regent University to name new Locker Room after Trump. Says Robertson, “We’re going to make locker rooms great again!”

    Trump on the Issues: “I thought they said ‘tissues.’ Stay on the tissues. I didn’t know what the hell they were talking about!

    But where do the fundamental keywords that move thought from the unspoken sphere to a spoken realm come from?

    In “Love’s Body” (1966), Norman O. Brown suggested words and ideas come from the body. Thus, we have a “head of state,” who sits at “the seat of government,” trying to control the “body politic”:

    “’A Multitude of men are made One person.’ The idea of a people is the idea of a corporation, and the idea of a corporation is the idea of a juristic person. ‘This is more than Consent, or Concord: it is a reall Unitie of them all, in one and the same Person.’ Out of many, one: a logical impossibility; a piece of poetry, or symbolism; an enacted or incarnate metaphor; a poetic creation. The Commonwealth is ‘an Artificial Man,’ a body politic, ‘in which,’ the Soveraignty is an ‘Artificial Soul; the Magistrates, and other Officers of Judicature and Execution, artificiall Joynts,” etc. Does this ‘Artificiall Man,’ this ‘Feigned or Artificiall Person, make ‘a real Unitie of them all”? Are juristic persons real, or only legal fictions, personae fictae? ‘Analogy with the living person and shift of meaning are the essence of the mode of legal statement which refers to corporate bodies.’ Is the shift of meaning real? Does the metaphor accomplish a metamorphosis? ‘The Pacts and Covenants, by which the parts of this Body Politique were at first made, set together, and united, resemble that Fiat, or the Let us make man, pronounced by God in the Creation.” Or like the hoc est corpus meum, This is my body, pronounced by God in the Redemption. Is there a real transubstantiation? Is there a miracle in the communion of the mortal God, the great leviathan; a miracle which gives life to the individual communicants also? For so-called ‘real,’ ‘living,’ ‘natural’ persons, individual persons, are not natural but juristic persons, personae fictae, social creations, no more real than corporations.”

    Hobbes, Leviathan, 3-4, 136, 143.
    Wolff, “On the Nature of Legal Persons.” Hart, “Definition and Theory in Jurisprudence.