Petkanas, 1
Published in ETC: A Review of General Semantics.
Vol. 58, No. 3, Fall 2001
Art, Life, and Reality: General Semantics and Definitions
Bill Petkanas*
At the heart of teaching General Semantics is the irksome question of the relationship between language and reality. Almost a century ago, Bertrand Russell asked, "...if the reality is not what appears, have we any means of knowing whether there is any reality at all? And if so, have we any means of finding out what it is like?" (1912, p. 16). For many people, this question arises somewhere around the sophomore year of college and nags at us ever after. First we realize that individual experiences are relative; there is no way to check on the internal sensations of another person, leaving us to doubt whether there is any consistency of perception in the universe of observers. Harry Weinberg's Levels of Knowing and Existence points out that the experience of the color "red" is indescribable to a blind person, and even if it were explainable, we can not verify that the experience of red is the same for sighted people either (1959, p. 36). And even when we seem to agree on reality, the meanings of words are forever slippery and ambiguous no matter how precise we try to make them. S. Morris Engel cites many wonderful examples of deliberate and inadvertent ambiguity leading to comic effect, such as "slow children crossing" and the like (1994, p. 25), or as S.I. Hayakawa put in, "Everyone, of course, who has ever given any thought to the meanings of words has noticed that they are always shifting and changing in meaning." (1978, p. 54)
Confusion gets somewhat more serious, although usually still harmless, in intercultural transactions. It might cause simple embarrassment, as in referring to putting something in my "pants pocket" in England, where "trousers" is meant (and the word "pants" is generally reserved for "underwear"). Or less amusing, as in an argument Irving Lee once described between an American who suggested "tabling" a motion (not discussing) to a British associate, to whom "tabling" meant to "put on the table" (have a discussion) (1941, p. 11). Of course, we can achieve misunderstanding without the burden of a transatlantic crossing. As Ellen Langer puts it, "once we become mindfully aware of views other than our own, we start to realize there are as many different views as there are observers." (1989, p. 68) And confusion is aided by numbers. The odds are against us understanding each other, as William Lutz points out in The New Double Speak. There are over 14,000 meanings available for the most frequently used 500 words in English (1996, p. 38). Even that average of 28 meanings per word would not be enough to adequately define anything, although it is plenty enough to keep us confused. As Korsybski explains about the concept of non-allness, it is impossible to define anything completely from the macroscopic world to the microscopic details. About his writing implement, well known to students of general semantics, he said, "we may describe a pencil or 'define' a pencil in as great detail as we please, yet it is impossible to include all the characteristics which we may discover in this actual objective pencil." (1954, p. 41). He is right in two ways: the limits of observation, language and time for one, and the idea that upon observation, his pencil would mutate into the infinite pencils of infinite observers' perceptions. Precise, immutable definition is made impossible by the conspiracy between the non-allness of description and what Wendell Johnson called "horizontal non-identity," the idea that infinite differences exist even among the "same" things (1946, p. 179).
None of this stops people from acting as if they know what words mean, however. Worse, they will often insist that they can prove it one way or another. Stuart Chase warns us that we should be on guard when someone offers a "self evident truth." An utterance is highly suspect when it begins with any form of the expression, "everybody knows..." or "it's a well known fact that..." (1956, p. 125). When "common knowledge" as an argument is not available, many people turn to the absolute arbiter of the meanings of words: the dictionary. It is as if meanings come to people from dictionaries instead of the other way 'round. People make dictionaries out of the way people use words. And people use words in everyday life, academic discussions, arguments with spouses, and haggling over prices, with different aspirations and expectations. Or, as Lakoff and Johnson put it, "People who put together dictionaries, linguists, and regular people have very different agendas, needs, and purposes in creating meaning." (1980, p. 116) In short, there is no more "real definition" of any word than there is a "real" meaning to any word. It always depends on how the word is used, why, in what context, and to whom. Samuel Bois offers the helpful idea of "meaning-to-me" instead of "definition" in order to account for the obvious fact that a word is likely to trigger different reactions from different people. He proposes that it is better to think of a dictionary definition as the "average" definition of a word, in the same way that we might approach the average height of ten-year-old boys. That is, we may be aware of the average height without expecting every ten-year-old boy to conform to it (1973, p. 122).
Beyond people's claims that they can "prove" a word's meaning are the occasions when sufficient political power allows some person or group to insist on the acceptance of a particular meaning over others. Our systems of formal education have power adequate to define what an "educated person" is, regardless of proportion of learning or depth of experience of any actual human. That is, an "educated person" is one who holds a degree from appropriate, accredited institution. No amount of reading, discussion, writing, or other transactions outside such an institution will get you a faculty position, entrance to a bar exam, medical licensing board, or through any other gates protected by the notice, "educated persons only." Indeed all licensing mechanisms, for cosmetologists, coaches, private detectives, child care workers, teachers, masseurs, or firefighters, are exercising their clout in forcing their definitions on all. They get this power largely from us, as we insist on being protected from bad barbers, plumbers, real estate agents, and notaries public. The relationship creates odd problems when the definers are taken to task for inadequacies in the people they are charged with defining. Their answer is to raise the bar, credits, experience, courses, degrees, and so on for their definition, sometimes resulting in shortages of nurses, teachers, family practice physicians, when people realize that efforts to acquire the definition surpass the benefits of obtaining it. Accrediting organizations are involved in the activity of holding us hostage to their definitions, and since they derive their power from our willingness to bow to their expertise, their ability to define is self sustaining. Neil Postman uses the very fitting term, "definition tyranny" to underscore the political significance involved (1976, p. 188). There need not be a license at stake for definition tyranny to take hold. Whenever we cede our ability to make judgments to the discretion of experts, we grant them a monopoly over some definition. Trouble is, as Postman points out, in defining such people as "authority" and "experts," we forget that they have motives, needs, agendas, alliances, traditions, and debts owed, just like everyone else. And these forces may play a part in their definitions as prominent as their expertise.
When a word stands low on the abstraction ladder, we can dispense with experts easily enough. If everyone doesn't know what a chair is, we can simply point to a few and say, "see, here's one, and here's another." When there are no value judgments attached to a category, we are also at ease in defining it. Roger Brown uses the example of the category, "triangle." It is easy, and comfortable, to observe that there is no "correct" triangle, just a definition for a category with which no one is likely to disagree, with an infinite array of examples to point to (1958, p. 84). Of course, there is nothing ambiguous about triangles, nor is there any moral significance to them. Experts and arguments make their appearance when we climb the abstraction ladder to confront words with no referents in the concrete world. Stuart Chase likes the words "capitalism," "mankind," and "sublime," as examples (1938, p. 101). Since words such as these lack referents of any kind, how else are we to define them in the face of disagreements except by the application of expert opinion?
And what are we to do as teachers of general semantics? My answer has been to look around for definitions which capture the interest of my students and make use of the symbols to illustrate the dilemmas of definition.
THE MILLENNIAL MIX-UP
I welcomed the dawn of the new millennium as a topic with easy relevance to my students. Here was an interesting debate over definitions in which the students and the general public had already engaged themselves. I had counted no less than a dozen letters to the editor in my local paper claiming that the millennium didn’t really begin until 2001, or alternately, such claims for mathematical correctness ignored the human indulgence in the delight of round numbers to commemorate anniversaries. It was both illustrative and amusing to bring in examples of “do you think there was a year zero?” vs. “you don’t celebrate the 51st, 76th, or 101st anniversary of anything, do you?”
To the dispute over when the millennium really began, I thought it illustrative to add that “it” wasn’t “really” 1999, but rather one cultural convention for numbering years was being applied to a universe which couldn’t care whether we called it 5860, 1366, or 3,999,999. This had little effect, however, since other calendars are so far outside of my students' experience it seems impossible to make them relevant. People know they exist, but cannot take them seriously, rather like telling them that soccer is the most popular sport in the world (by number of people who we might call “fans” for one reason or another). They know that, but they cannot see how it can be relevant to a discussion of “real” sports. That “1999,” “2000,” and “2001” are arbitrary numbers assigned by us to the universe is comprehensible, but having assigned them, people felt perfectly comfortable arguing over when the “real” celebration should take place.
That was the unfortunate result of bringing this argument into the realm of a General Semantics class. My students seemed to leave thinking I was trying to convince them of the correct New Year’s Eve celebration to applaud (answers were divided) or that somehow the study of General Sematics disapproved of celebration at all. After all the discussion, study, and debate, they said things like “well, I’m still going to celebrate,” or “well, I still like parties, no matter what you say.” In the end I had succeeded in turning an illustration of definitions and reification into a variety of two-valued orientations.
Perhaps this example was too cryptic. After all, I was asking people to reject the reality of both positions. By dismissing the calendar as a social construct I was asking them to discard a pretty basic sense of reality: time itself. And although there is no reality to time in physics, where it is simply another factor in various equations, socially constructed time is intensely experienced, especially by students. This example, as interesting as it seemed to me, was not quite effective.
STARS AND BARS AND SCARS
Another opportunity presented itself at the dawn of the new millennium (or just a year before it, if you prefer). Thousands of people in South Carolina marched in protest of the confederate flag, which at that time still flew over the state legislature building. A few thousand also marched in support of the confederate flag. The arguments went like this: people who wished the flag removed said that the flag symbolized slavery, oppression, murder, and a dark past of which no state’s citizens should be proud; supporters of the flag said that the flag represented many thousand dead and wounded sons of the state who acted heroically, selflessly, and honorably, even if the war was lost and the cause questionable. Indeed, they argued, it would be craven and shameful to fail to honor them, referring to the nation’s initial rather shameful treatment of Vietnam veterans. The arguments along these lines went back and forth with each side attempting to convince the legislature and the national press that theirs was the real meaning of the flag.
The issue became a cause celeb, well known enough that it appeared in the consciousness of my students, presenting me with an opportunity for another relevant example. This seemed like a very useful example, since it encompassed such drama and passion, shadows of the Civil War, race relations, government, media, and Connecticut is far enough away from South Carolina that despite the emotional indignation that surrounded the debate, there was no danger of personal involvement. This was a good opportunity to demonstrate that there was no meaning in the flag itself, but that people created meanings, then tried to politically press their definition on others. Both parties, of course, were right in the sense that the flag had the meaning they attributed to it. It simply was not the exclusive definition. The political positions, however, were two-valued: either the flag would fly over the state house or not, creating a situation in which one definition must win out over the other, even in the face of the knowledge that they are both valid definitions.
The distance which I thought prevented a too heated and personal discussion, however, also served as a buffer to the meaningfulness of the symbol. The confederate flag, although recognizable as such to people in Connecticut, is not a highly charged symbol here, nor could students see much significance or relevance to either claim about its meaning. They understood the example without difficulty but the discussion generated about as much excitement as telling them about the French banning public displays of the words “weekend” and “hamburger.” Interesting, but hardly relevant.
BUT IS IT ART?
The example which has been most fruitful is not current or overtly political. It is timeless and universal, as well as highly abstract so that instead of two competing definitions, we can find many. It is “art.” Since students, like everyone else, make aesthetic decisions and argue naturally that some films, bands, music videos, clothes, and so on, are “better” than others, they must have criteria for judging things, and therefore at least tacit definitions of “art,” or “good” when dealing with that particular artifact. What makes this relevant and interesting is that they care abundantly about these issues and are willing to passionately promote their definitions or examples. Their ultimate answer is to say that each person is entitled to their own opinions, being decently democratic about it, but when I point out that recording contracts, film budgets, fame, fortune, and influence are not distributed by each person’s own opinion, the political elements return to the discussion.
I take as an assumption that “art” does not exist, either in the universe or in any objects or artifacts. We call some things “art” when it suits our purposes, and we use a definition of art to do this. In discussions, we shift definitions constantly, and forget that these definitions are simply convenient or appropriate to the situation, not the “real” definition. With some brainstorming and discussion, it is easy to extract many possible definitions of “art” from student comments and reactions. Here, for the sake of example, is one I created during one seminar.
According to… / ... “good” art can be determined by... / .. and “good” art is... / ... and this definition is good for...Auction houses / the amount of money one buyer is willing to spend. / the most expensive, most exclusive / rich people, auction houses, the estates of artists.
The wealthy / amount of money influential buyers are willing to spend. / a good investment / collectors, rich people, art dealers, gallery owners.
The Marketplace / wide popularity, the amount of money spent by many people. / popular, good artists are wealthy (as in “if she’s so good, why isn’t she rich?”) / popular artists, their agents, promoters, media corporations.
Normative academics / how well the work of art represents the genre, follows the established conventions for the art, does a good job of being a piece of art. / what other practitioners, critics, curators, gallery owners, editors, publishers, experts, say it is. / artists who can do this, awards panels (Oscars, Emmys, Hugos, NEA grants, etc.).
Historical and traditional types / how long the work or artist has survived in the consciousness of people who consume the art. / that which survives in reputation over time. / art historians, professors, curmudgeons.
People who like novelty / how well the work of art breaks the rules of convention, usually along some established analogy to how some others broke the rules before. / what experts (critics, historians, gallery owners, editors, publishers) say it is, / the fans, sometimes the artists, often the experts.
People who like the disturbing and shocking / how much resentment, disgust, hatred it creates in its critics. If mentioned by Jesse Helms, the artist is catapulted to national attention. / what critics, other artists, bohemians, say it is. / political and social protest, counter-cultural movements, fans of non-corporate entertainment.
Democratic types who appreciate subjective judgment / no judgments except personal responses allowed. All opinion equally valid. / what anyone says is. / common person, who can assert value of own opinion as “just as good as the experts’; what the hell do they know anyway?”
Postmodernists / no hierarchies, no work of art better than any other, all art equal. Only political factors make some art considered “good.” / oddly, what postmodernist critics and academics say it is. / postmodern academics and critics who are adept at uncovering political ideology which makes some art more valued over other works.
Spiritual-Cosmic types / in tune with the universe, meaningful to the cosmos, existing even without the perception of human beings. / what the artists themselves, their fans, say it is. / the artists.
People who believe in Artistic Integrity / artists motivated by pure need for expression, art is not corrupted by any outside financial or political influence (Note: when such artists become popular, they are said to have “sold out” and lose all claim to integrity.) / what fans, critics say it is. / fans.
This chart is, of course, not definitive or correct, and I would argue that no such chart could ever be. For example, if you want to give out NEA grants, the subjective/democratic definition is no good. You would have to give grants to everyone and everything, which is impractical and silly. So you use the normative definition. But only some of these definitions are mutually exclusive, many can be combined at the same time. And we can, and do, shift quickly and easily from one to another without realizing it, which is what allowed one of the people in the class to say he agreed with me, and then claim that the definition of art which included Jesse Helms’ opinion was not a good one. That’s true, of course, but none of them are good in all circumstances.