― mark s (mark s), Wednesday, 28 May 2003 13:17 (nineteen years ago) link
I don't see a basic gap between how car mechanics/car manufacturers take road trips and how other people take road trips, so I don't assume there's a major gap between how musicians respond to music and how nonmusicians respond. Of course, we can claim that musicians are like drivers and listeners like passengers, but I reject that. (And anyway, what do drivers do when someone else is driving? How different is their passengering from a nondriver's?)
On ILX is there a gap between writers and readers? (The latter are called "lurkers.")
Haven't you made a disanalogy? You start by talking of Writer A's conception and Writers B, C, D, E, F, G, H's written responses (new conceptions). Then you jump to Musicians A, B, C, D's music and listeners E, F, G, H's responses.
When would it make sense to say that a dancer is trying to decode a piece of music? (Say, when he's been told to dance differently to cumbias, boleros, and rancheras, and is trying to figure out which he's hearing.)
Do you consider dancers "unschooled listeners"? How about people who sing and clap in church? Members of the choir? Producers, publicists, A&R people? DJs? Retailers? What about nonprofessional musicians who've been to music school? How about professional musicians who haven't? What about the people - such as Mark Sinker (who has stated publicly that he can play "Prelude 20" by Frédéric Chopin) and me - who have learned an instrument at some time or another (and perhaps still play)?
I see different roles (and far more than the two that your musician-listener dichotomy implies), but not always different people in them. Incommensurability or something like it only becomes an issue when roles and expectations get confused or come into conflict. "Stating and receiving concepts" may not be a good analogue, though. (It may not be the best for talking about incommensurability among scientists, either.) "Differing understandings of what the other person is doing" would be better. Do you have any examples?
The gap that I would see (which applies to any product, not just music) is between understanding what the person who made the product is doing and understanding how you yourself can use it. But I don't necessarily see the former inhibiting the latter. Maybe it'll be the guy who can't tell a bolero from a cumbia who develops a great new dance out of the bolero, but I wouldn't bet on it.
Robert Christgau, in Why Music Sucks #2: "Does making music remove you from the audience? Not necessarily, but it changes your relationship to it - not least by inclining you towards music that enriches your own music instead of music that enriches your own life."
What I immediately thought when I read this (as did Chuck, I found out) was, "What about music that enriches your writing?" And from there, what about music that enriches your teaching (if you're a teacher), your politics (if you're a politician or an activist), your sex appeal (if you're a prostitute), your social understanding (if you're a sociologist)? What baffles me is Christgau's "instead of." Sure, musicians have special interests; what doesn't make sense is to say that serving those interests somehow isn't serving their lives, or that those interests would somehow truncate the rest of their interests. Comes across as "Can't walk and chew gum at the same time." If you go to high school, you'll gravitate towards music that enriches your high-school experience, if you go to ILM you'll gravitate towards music that enriches your ILM experience; if you're a musician that goes to high school and/or ILM, would this suddenly make you move away from music that enriches your high-school and ILM experience? Seems to me that it might, rather, inspire you to play music that enriches your high-school and ILM experience.
(Of course, as a writer I make a special effort to detract from my readers' life experiences. Maybe this is where incommensurability comes in.)
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Thursday, 29 May 2003 02:44 (nineteen years ago) link
― Tim Finney (Tim Finney), Thursday, 29 May 2003 04:11 (nineteen years ago) link
And maybe its precisely coz of what you hinted at in yr voice review of Meltzer: http://www.villagevoice.com/issues/0026/kogan.php
His ability to write and ability to understand music in reverse proportion coz his writing coheres as an ethos, a worldview, a sharp fixity of intent. And the sharper it gets the less the ethos of this or that musician can intrude. The less he could have a damn thing to say about anything new (like rap -- did he *ever* have anything to say about it) coz the way he heard didn't let the things it did in. But to write as G-U-D as he did, he hadta keep hearing that way, keep feeling that way. So you compare him with someone like Adorno who could only hear the sedimented sociality in a difft. sorta music and even though they're talking about the same thing -- ppl. and how they listen to and treat one another -- there's no way to map the discourses.
So then maybe there's no one ruling "disciplinary matrix" of rock but a set of competing discourses and languages. Or maybe there IS a disciplinary matrix. After all how often does "the Stones were better before they started writing most of their songs" get y'know, published? Just like there are always kooks in science and competitions for theoretical frameworks, you've understood for ages that yr. ideas make you a "kook" in rockwrite.
But look -- the other point Kuhn makes is that incommensurable things are COMPARABLE, right? But posit that difft. critics & schools have their own "languages" or better yet "discourses" -- sets of precepts and methods too ("when in doubt, write about something else" "analyze the lyrics" "unknown bands deserve the biggest props" "what matters is how it makes *you* feel" etc.) and then ask if you can actually compare them the way you can compare scientific paradigms. ("Using Newton's motion we can launch a cannonball with .5 foot precision." "Using Kogan's hallway/classroom idea we can start to explain the theory/practice divide.")
Lets say we call this non-translatable and non-comparable (these are, ahem, comparative terms of course) sort of thing "strong incommensurability" and ask why it would be a useful term to have around.
Well okay -- the moment you ask "why would we want to launch a cannonball with etc." the answer comes from another field of discourse: politics, religion, military strategy, etc.
But ask why we might want to explain the theory/practice divide and things get dicier. Not coz there aren't reasons but coz "we" don't talk about them, and there's no sustained and continuous discourse to do so in even.
So meltzer, like adorno, & probably like reynolds and smith for that matter well I think they'd all like to explain that divide & probably bridge/eliminate it too. But they don't even have a way to talk to one another convincingly about it.
So okay suppose we tend to listen to things that enrich who we are (what we do, even) and we each make our own ethos out of it. How do we communicate except in more things which we seek or avoid depending on how they enrich who we are? Which is to say, how do we share enough common facets of an ethos so that our words and concepts line up at least roughly? Well see even if I like lotsa stuff Meltzer hates, Meltzer himself (or his writing at least) enriches my experience.
So what you have is this mutating field of exchanged missives of ways of experiencing the world shufflepucked around through, from, about, etc. those who are experiencing the world, of which the field is a part. All of which is actually by way of answer to oops who posed the puzzler "what good is criticism if all it produces is more criticism?"
Well, criticism produces people too, and the music they produce, and the way they feel about it, and etc. And the trick then is that to judge if Koganism is better than Adornism is better than Meltzerism is better than SFJonesism is better than oopsism you havta pass judgement on the whole friggin shebang. (For "better" in the last sentence, read "more useful" and insert "and what you wanna do with it" after "shebang").
Which is maybe why more people don't talk about this stuff.
― Sterling Clover (s_clover), Thursday, 29 May 2003 04:40 (nineteen years ago) link
Mark, I don't want to say that this can't happen (more good ideas generated from an originally unclear, badly worded expression than would have been generated if the expression had been better worded and clearer), but it's rare, in my experience. We remember the good mishearings, but most of the mishearings aren't worth remembering, and we don't remember them. Mishearings tend to lead to convention and cliché, the same pseudoconceptions rendered endlessly. In any event, if I mishear an idea, it may improve the idea, but it won't improve my ideas, because I'd just have heard what was already in my head, rather than learning something new.
Putting aside the question of whether I state my ideas well or poorly, I can only think of one time in the past 18 years - since I started publishing criticism - when someone improved an idea of mine by misreading it.
I think that you arbitrarily and incorrectly believe that clarity entails closure, and you follow a stream of consciousness that goes "well-worded = clear = nothing more to say = boring" and "poorly worded = unclear = more to say = interesting." So you only see two possibilities, where I see 16. You see a poorly worded conception as leading to a multiplicity of misconceptions, but for some reason you can't see a well-worded conception as leading to a multiplicity of other conceptions; it's as if ideas could only lead to other ideas by being misunderstood.
Putting aside the question whether Copernicus and Kepler expressed their ideas well or poorly, some people managed to understand those ideas; and those who not only understood but tended to accept the ideas were then faced with the question of how to develop a new mechanics to explain planetary motion, since if the Sun really was at the center, there was as yet no good way to explain either why the planets moved as they did and - now that it was decided that the planets were material bodies like the Earth - why they didn't all fall into the Sun. If Copernicus and Kepler hadn't been understood, there'd have been nothing to explain, and no new ideas (including none of the ideas that superseded Copernicus's and Kepler's).
There have been a lot of ideas in physics and cosmology since Kepler, despite the fact that people sometimes understand each other.
By the way, "well worded" doesn't always mean "clearly worded." Sometimes you communicate better and the readers learn better if you make them do some work. But you need to give them the material to work with. (You know this already, and you know that I know it. I just want everyone else to know that I know it.)
(Can't there be various different strategies: e.g., express an idea "clearly" in one instance and "unclearly" [or incompletely, or differently] in another, as if it were a different idea, and seek out people who will get it wrong and those likely to get it right?)
If by some miracle of high-speed education all current listeners were inducted into the knowledge that gave them musicians’ ears, music, far from flourishing, would decline.
You don't say which musicians' ears we would get. If I get Pablo Casals's, I can do a good job of detesting and misunderstanding the Beatles, since he thought they were the worst sort of garbage. (That's what I remember reading, anyway.) It seems to me that you probably shouldn't have separated out your point iv from your point iii.
the idea, maybe, that there’s something those certain listeners know and hear when they’re listening to the music that the musicians involved no longer [know]. In other words, while a schooled musician gains something valuable, by virtue of essential acquired skills and ‘ear’ and whatever, s/he also LOSES something valuable.
An artist who can draw can never draw one thing: a picture that looks as if it was drawn by someone who CAN’T draw
Yes he can. But he will have to train himself to. A drawing teacher who works with young children might want to do just this.
When I read, I barely notice sentence structure, though when I write, I think about it a lot. Sometimes I will deliberately reread a favorite book in order to observe the sentence structure, so I can learn from it. But I rarely have the discipline to keep this up. After a few pages I just go back to reading normally.
Is someone who can play Beethoven but not Brown someone who can "play"? He can't play Brown, after all.
Casals is in the position of someone who can't "hear" the Beatles, and he will have to learn how. But "learning how to hear the Beatles" can consist of a number of things; does it mean understanding what the Beatles were doing, or does it mean understanding what he, Casals, can do with the Beatles? As I've been saying, the first can be a pathway to the second, but it isn't the only way. What strikes me as wrong is your tendency to believe that the first bars us from the second. And this is where you and I might be at loggerheads.
If there's anything analogous to "incommensurability," it's that to understand what the Beatles were doing back then we have to deliberately not take into account what we do with the Beatles now, since if we "read" the past as precursor to the present then we don't understand it. And besides wanting to know "Beatles then" for its own sake, it might hold surprises for us.
The most interesting passage I've written this year is:
For Aristotle, motion was a change in quality, an asymmetric change from an initial state to a final state, so that motion not only included a rock's moving towards its place in the center of the universe, and fire reaching outwards to its place on the periphery, but also an acorn growing into a tree, a man returning from sickness to health, and so forth.
Interesting, because it's truly an idea I'd never run into until I'd read Kuhn. And if young man Kuhn had simply decided that Aristotle's physics was as poorly thought and unclear as it had first seemed to him, and he hadn't worked hard to break through and understand it clearly, then he wouldn't have come up with his idea of incommensurability. All of which seems more interesting than if Kuhn had read into Aristotle ideas that Aristotle had never envisaged.
Is this fair to say: You've a sense that the culture and concepts that have been given us are potentially spare and closed, and so our way into abundance must be through subterfuge and mistake?
Xgau misread my PBS metaphor in Why Music Sucks as my wanting to get out from under my knowingness, whereas I'd thought I was using it to get us out from under an area of overcontrol where the symbol stood in for the event. See upthread where I claim that to expand knowledge is also to expand the unknown, hence knowledge is no threat to novelty. (Readers, don't worry that I haven't given you enough info to figure out what I mean by "an area of overcontrol where the symbol stood in for the event." It's not important to this thread, except in that I hope it will be important to Mark, who I hope already understands what I'm referring to - important in this sense: I think that it's the area of overcontrol that you yourself are trying to get out from under, and that - at least on this thread - you've mistakenly fixed on "clarity" as the culprit, just as Meltzer and the Sits mistakenly fixed on "meaning," perhaps because they believed that they had a way out from under that.)
I still haven't bitten into what I think is the main nut of your post. That'll wait for later, but let me summarize where I think we are so far.
You are seeing a relationship between, and perhaps want to run together, two ideas that you are putting forth:
(1) Miscommunication and misunderstanding are frequently an advantage over, perhaps even in most instances are preferable to, "good" communication and "clear" understanding.
(2) Suppose that you belong to group of listeners Class A and ArfArf belongs to group of listeners Class B. Now it's certainly true that because of your different experiences, skills, imaginative inclinations, training, talents, etc. there are things that you know and ArfArf doesn't and things he knows that you don't, and most likely things that you know that he lacks the skills or imagination to ever know and things that he knows that you lack the skills or imagination to ever know. But that's just a gap in expertise, skills, etc., and there's nothing in principle that prevents someone like you from learning what someone like ArfArf knows and vice versa. But there's a further gap, the one that concerns you, and that is not only unbridged in fact but unbridgeable in principle. That is, one can move from Class A to Class B, but once one does, one has lost some of the attributes of Class A; and there are things known by members of Class B that cannot ever, no matter what, be known by anyone in Class A (because then that person would no longer be in Class A) and things known by people in Class A that can never, no matter what, be known by people in Class B.
Anyway, I think that point 2 is "the nut" of the matter (or perhaps the fruit of the matter, since in botany many nuts are fruits) and that you're proposing it as a serious position with practical - and good - consequences. (That is, you're not just playing word games of the form "Say that Class A are the people that don't know anything and Class B are the people that know something, then no one in Class B can ever know what it's like not to know anything.") Point 2, I think, rather than being similar to Kuhn's notion of "incommensurability," runs counter to it, but in running counter to it may help illuminate it. As a historian Kuhn made it his business to go back and forth between Class B and Class A and to understand what was known by people in both classes, and his concept "incommensurability" is the result of his being able to do so. Only by knowing both B and A was he able to decide that they were incommensurable.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Friday, 30 May 2003 00:44 (nineteen years ago) link
"It isn't so much that rock history is or must be revisionist (it generally is, but so what?) but simply, and more to the point that it is and can't help but be visionist. Historical hands, insofar as they're dealt at all, are dealt to persons -- to singles and multiples of 'em. Persons are touchstones of the efficacy of chronology: how history did its thing. What exactly happened? Everything. But sequence, hierarchy, synchronicity -- scratch that -- the assertion of all such meat 'n' taters, of a calculus and phenomenology of micro-moment progression, scale, nuance, and tangent, is at least two-thirds the statement, voiced or unvoiced, of each and every rockcriticperson. His/her stab, strut, and (in a nutshell) oeuvre.
"Or let's do it this way. Every rockwriter (sportswriter) (geekwriter) has his/her own book of genesis. Has? Exudes. An Old Testament concatenated fable. Gospel according to fill-in-the-blank. Every critic a "witness," a zealot and crackpot, and everyone's testament different, heck, it had better be. A fragment from MY glorious goddamn scripture -- the Absolute unfolds itself, thusly (take it or take it):"
[also reading this I realized that I think I'd somehow begun to imagine that I like Greil Marcus' approach more than I really do, in the wake of ppl. picking on him for stupid things fairly frequently. but then I go search through the ILM archives and notice that I've talked about Hannah Marcus about twice as much!]
― Sterling Clover (s_clover), Friday, 30 May 2003 06:27 (nineteen years ago) link
― dave q, Monday, 2 June 2003 09:41 (nineteen years ago) link
I won't until I read Kuhn and Lord knows when that'll happen.
― Michael Daddino (epicharmus), Monday, 2 June 2003 09:59 (nineteen years ago) link
Which people? Which conceptions? Which ideas?
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Monday, 9 June 2003 03:54 (nineteen years ago) link
Frank Hardy [helpfully]: "Um. Drops of water are falling from the sky?"
Joe: "Ha ha ha. That's very funny. No, it means that we have to unload my umbrella stash. Come help me."
Frank [not moving]: "Oh. I thought it meant that we had to cancel our picnic."
Joe [impatiently]: "What picnic? I didn't know we'd planned a picnic. What are you talking about?" [Goes over to a closet and rummages around.]
Frank: "Well, we hadn't planned a picnic. But if we had, we'd have to cancel it. [Brightens up.] Unless we chartered a plane to some place where it wasn't raining."
Joe: "Help me with these umbrellas." [Lugs a box of about 30 umbrellas.]
Frank [still not moving]: "However, in weather like this, I suppose everyone will want to charter an airplane."
Joe: "Frank, stop babbling and help me with these. I'd bought them real cheap for just a situation as this. We'll go out and sell them on the street for four times what I paid. We'll make a bundle."
Frank [slowly walking over, grasps one end of the box, helps Joe carry it to the door]: "And with the profits we can charter an airplane, so we won't have to give up our picnic."
[Joe rolls his eyes.]
Frank: "I feel that I've been deprived of a picnic."
[Exeunt, with umbrellas.]
From this dialogue, we see that there is only one correct understanding of the sentence "It's raining," which is "We have to charter an airplane to fly us to a place where we can have our picnic." If anyone ever utters the sentence "It's raining," in whatever circumstances, and you understand it to mean something else, you are mistaken.
Or perhaps not. Perhaps there are many correct understandings of "It's raining." Perhaps there are practically an unlimited number of correct understandings.
So, there is no need to write willfully unclearly to produce a multiplicity of ideas. Clear understandings can provoke multiple responses.
Why would you assume otherwise?
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Monday, 9 June 2003 03:56 (nineteen years ago) link
With such a question, there is nowhere to put my feet, no world on which to tread. There's not even the possibility of walking in place, since there is no place.
A third thing, "motion" that belongs neither to Aristotle's conversation nor to Newton's, nor to anyone's, but simply "motion as it really is" or "the motion that's really there," is just as vacuous as "walking" is two paragraphs back - vacuous because in a vacuum.
And so it is with the word "metanarrative" on this thread, and "Chomsky" and "Foucault" and "pure science" and "idea unclearly expressed." I can imagine that billions of years ago, in distant galaxies, these words had sense because they lived a life, belonged to sentences that contrasted with other sentences. But here it's as if they've journeyed across the vastness of space and somehow have gotten caught in this thread's gravity but have yet to find a way to touch down - have not brought enough of their old world with them to carry along their old sense, but have not gotten enough of a role in this world to get a new footing.
Or perhaps they do lead a life here - it's their natural home, or their new one - but for some reason when I look at them they fall mute, and I'm the alien.
But I don't see why you would plump for this alienation - this adamant refusal to communicate and to understand, this insistence that worlds not talk to each other, that the creation of new worlds is dependent on the inarticulateness of the old.
There must be a story here, some reasons why a man would advocate this.
I get the sense of someone using a feather duster to brush against his own nerve endings, but I don't know how his words actually brush, or where the nerves send their impulses. In other words, I just don't know what's going on, what's at stake. I feel that the issue is a stand-in for something else, but I'm damned if I know what.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Monday, 9 June 2003 03:59 (nineteen years ago) link
So Kuhn had little interest in "philosophical skepticism." He rarely spoke of what we can or can't know, though he was concerned with what we do and don't know. "Incommensurability" has nothing to do with skepticism. That old physics is incommensurable with new doesn't mean that we can't learn the old physics. That there is no third thing - "what is really there" - to match the old and the new against doesn't mean that we can't have good reasons for choosing the new over the old.
But Mark is taking a position akin to skepticism, since he's saying that people with musicians' ears can't know what the unschooled listener knows, and vice versa. This isn't incommensurability, but incomprehensibility.
Philosophical skepticism actually refers to a whole mess of loosely related (or barely related) arguments. The one that might concern us would be something like this:
"I may believe that this thread is written in English, and my belief may be correct, but I can never know that this thread is in English. Just as I may be correct in believing that I know how to speak English, but I can't know that I know how to speak English." This is close to claiming that I can't know that I'm not just a brain in jar. Kuhn is right to be indifferent to such "skepticism," since the word "know" in those sentences is used so differently from "know" in "I know that she would like the Justin Timberlake album for her birthday" that the two words are homonyms. "Knowing" or not "knowing" the first sort of thing has nothing to do with knowing anything anyone ever needs to know.
"Incommensurability" doesn't imply that someone who knows modern physics can't learn Aristotelian physics, any more than it implies that someone who knows English can't learn French, or that someone who knows how to shop for groceries can't learn botany, or that someone who knows baseball can't learn tennis.
Of course, learning Aristotelian physics is difficult in a way that learning tennis or French or botany isn't, since there are no practitioners of Aristotelian physics to help us or to tell us whether we're doing it right. So this just means we have to use our best judgment. And though there may be practical barriers that prevent us from knowing Aristotelian physics as well as we'd like - missing documents, ideas that Aristotle never got to writing down in the first place, not enough knowledge of the ideas of Aristotle's contemporaries - there's no principle that says we can't understand an obsolete physics.
(By the way, I have no idea if the phrase "Aristotelian physics" is an anachronism, if or how Aristotle's "physics" separated out from his other ideas, or even if he used a term at all equivalent to "physics.")
I'm going to be using the phrase "what it's like" in the next few paragraphs, but it's one I feel iffy about. E.g., since I don't speak French, I can feel ignorant when everyone around me is speaking French. But in general, ignorance is not a feeling, a mood, or a state. I am ignorant of the languages that were spoken 20,000 years ago, but I wouldn't say I'm walking around in a state of ignorance because of it, or that I carry the ignorance inside me like a mood.
Mark, are you driving at something like this: The people who made Psycho are incapable of knowing what it's like for the audience not to know how the movie is going to come out; just as the person who's already seen Psycho is no longer able to experience what it's like not to know how the movie comes out? This argument is fundamentally wrong: The filmmakers are very aware of what it's like for the audience not to know; otherwise, the movie would not have been very suspenseful. And the person who's seen the movie can certainly imagine what it's like not to know how the movie comes out. And sure, he can't precisely relive the pleasure of seeing Psycho for the first time, but he can know what that pleasure is like, and if he wants something similar he can go see another suspense film.
Parents can understand what it's like for their toddler not to have a good sense of balance. An arithmetic teacher can have a good idea what it's like for his students not to know how to multiply and divide. If he wants to be any good, he'd better. Just as a drawing teacher needs a sense of what it's like not to know perspective, a reading teacher needs a sense of what it's like not to know the new vocabulary, a mystery writer needs to imagine what it's like not to know who done it. Even I, occasionally, take it into account that my readers haven't heard the record.
And Kuhn made it his business to understand what it was like for Planck not to know yet that energy came in quanta, and what it was like for Copernicus not to know what Kepler knew.
I think you're making a mistake in treating a social gap as if it's an intellectual one. That is, musicians don't always hang around the same people as their audience does, and so the musicians may have different social group with different goals and values, hence a different idea of what's going on and of what's worth doing. But this social difference is no stranger than any other social difference and no harder or easier to cross than any other social barrier, such as that between a jazz fan and a Britney fan. Also, the musician making a record may be engaged in a very different activity from the person who's hearing it on his car radio, or dancing to it. But so what? This doesn't tell me that the musician can't understand the listener's activity and vice versa, and doesn't tell me what the advantage is supposed to be in not understanding.
And I'm nowhere near to figuring out why you think that the words "concept" and "decoding" are relevant. They're mystifying.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Monday, 9 June 2003 04:08 (nineteen years ago) link
― dave q, Monday, 9 June 2003 07:11 (nineteen years ago) link
― dave q, Monday, 9 June 2003 07:23 (nineteen years ago) link
― colin s barrow (colin s barrow), Monday, 9 June 2003 07:37 (nineteen years ago) link
our brains are hardwired to "read" faces, and so we see them where they maybe aren't => :)
what i'm suggesting is that, since our brains are hardwired (or super-well trained) to "read" language (to prioritise this), music — which (often) presents as sounds-like-language-but-isn't — gives listeners a space to project meaning that isn't there onto it, to explore and discuss (but musicians find it harder to do this, because they already find a richness of musician-type things to discuss, and this front-brain activity distracts from the intuitive almost unconscious stuff that non-musicians receive much more strongly)
the gulf isn't absolute: but it takes real time to cross (length of a course in "learning to be a musician") (musicians could also teach themselves to turn down the volume of what their professional antennae were picking up on)
social vs intellectual space: i don't see why these need be dichotomous
the reason i'm resisting frank's call to be specific abt which musicians is that i also think the way this "generalised" gulf manifests varies tremendously between types of music (and also probably within types of music), and that rock in particular gained a lot of its social energy from allowing the line between "musician" and "non-musician" to blur, compared to the musics it likes to contrast itself with...
but to be aware of this difference — even if it's a phantom difference — you have to believe that someone believed in the phantom
frank is saying "i don't believe the phantom existed" (which is fine) but then going on to say "therefore belief in its existence can't have been a part of the reason things happened" (which is not)
(his point that i'm overstating in sceptical fashion is probably true, i wasn't being very careful about that — i was being playful and joky and trying to wriggle an idea out of my intuition into public space without moulding it into a more normalise shape: actually i'm NOT a sceptic, but i'm often mistaken for one by ppl who've done a lot of battling with sceptics)
understanding gulfs create many of our key social spaces (schools = obvious example) => but the fact that frank and i left school long ago isn't a proof that ppl just entering now don't need to go (something like this is often a sort of unwanted corollary of his argument about mutual understanding, i think)
― mark s (mark s), Monday, 9 June 2003 09:02 (nineteen years ago) link
if everyone instantly knew what was in everyone else's head instantly, the fun would go out of communication
the "wilfully unclearly" joke only works as a joke if the reader is aware that i don't really believe in what i'm saying, obv (that i'm making a plainly ridiculous argument against clarity to justify my own oft-times lack of same): HOWEVER having made the joke, then occurred to me that i do increasingly tend to read "achieved disciplinary ability" as the opening up of a gulf, and that the "closing of the gulf as if it never was" is NOT the purpose eg throwing a pot or writing a song or striking a pose
frank is saying that i'm saying the gulf is ultimately uncrossable i'm saying he's saying there's never actually a gulf in the first place
but i think BOTH of these are wrong
― mark s (mark s), Monday, 9 June 2003 09:35 (nineteen years ago) link
― mark s (mark s), Monday, 9 June 2003 14:12 (nineteen years ago) link
But here are a couple points in relation to Kuhn:
the moment you ask "why would we want to launch a cannonball with etc." the answer comes from another field of discourse: politics, religion, military strategy, etc.
This isn't necessarily true. It might be true as a matter of sociohistorical fact that for physicists now, the question of why you would want to launch a cannonball is not an integral part of their physics (even if a physicist, like everyone else, does ask such questions of political leaders); and it's probably true that Newton wasn't asking himself that particular question when he was developing his laws of motion. So perhaps, once we've studied the matter, we can conclude that "the answer comes from another field of discourse" rather than being an integral part of physics, but we can't assume this beforehand. This is one of Kuhn's points about the paradigms of the past being different from those of the present: They give us a different map of what counts as relevant. "The sun is the home of God and therefore the source of planetary motion" could once be a part of a great scientist's theory.
So then maybe there's no one ruling "disciplinary matrix" of rock but a set of competing discourses and languages. Or maybe there IS a disciplinary matrix.
No, this makes no sense whatever. As the rest of your post shows, rock criticism isn't within a megazillion light years of being a disciplinary matrix. I don't get why you'd say otherwise. It's as if we were discussing how to distinguish left hands from right hands, and you suddenly said, irrelevantly, "Or maybe left hands ARE right hands, but with their digits reversed and on the other arm." In trying to understand what Kuhn means by "ruling paradigm" and "disciplinary matrix," you need to wipe from your brain the idea of "majority vs. minority," or "mainstream vs. fringe," or "culture vs. counterculture." If there are competing paradigms, then there's no ruling paradigm, even if one side gets all the seats on the student council and gets to threaten the other side with being burned at the stake.
If I consider myself a rock critic, and if my ideas put me at odds with the core ideas of other people I consider rock critics, then there's no ruling paradigm, no disciplinary matrix. Period. Even if no other people agree with my ideas, or know of them, even if I'm a madman scribbling in the attic, if I think my ideas are good and that they are rock criticism, then I can't say that there's a disciplinary matrix without contradicting myself. "Ruling paradigm" means (I'm quoting Richard Rorty here) "solving problems against the background of consensus about what counts as a good explanation of the phenomena and about what it would take for a problem to be solved." If you and I aren't part of the consensus, then there isn't a consensus. Kuhn uses phrases like "working within a paradigm" to distinguish sciences in their normal phases both from sciences in their revolutionary phases and from relevant nonsciences; in the latter two, people don't share an overall disciplinary matrix. So you're not doing any good to claim that revolutionary sciences and nonsciences also have ruling paradigms, unless you're doing so in order to jettison Kuhn. Which you're allowed to do, but most people who want to do so try it from the other direction, by claiming that no science has a ruling paradigm and that the premises of a science are always under attack.
("Relevant nonsciences" might be psychology and economics and, um, semiotics, disciplines in which some members aspire to be "scientific" but which have not achieved consensus. I'm wondering if some sports can be said to have ruling paradigms. Or whether mathematics can. Rock criticism isn't even trying for consensus. Rather, it builds itself around maintaining basic disagreements.)
Obvious question: When is a premise seriously under attack? E.g., I don't think creationists have mounted a serious attack on natural selection or genetic drift, even if they eventually succeed at decreasing the funding for evolutionary biology. This is because "God did it" doesn't work as an interesting explanation in biology, and biologists therefore don't even have to bother with it, even if they do so elsewhere in their life.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Tuesday, 1 July 2003 20:31 (nineteen years ago) link
― adam (adam), Tuesday, 1 July 2003 23:51 (nineteen years ago) link
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Wednesday, 2 July 2003 14:33 (nineteen years ago) link
it makes me even happier that I don't understand any of it, that my entire Ivy League education is gone, and that I'm having so much more fun now that I don't have to read/get/like stuff like this anymore.
but no hating on paradigm matrices or critical perspective shift from me. someone's a-gotta. go kidz go!
oh and what's a hardy boys mystery without EPMD and/or olive-skinned Tony?
― Neudonym, Wednesday, 2 July 2003 14:41 (nineteen years ago) link
Say that rock criticism is an ongoing battle among premises. The story of how rock criticism changes, then, wouldn't be the story of a ruling premise being displaced by an upstart, but of a battle that evolves.
(But that's way too simple, since rock criticism isn't just an ongoing battle among premises, but a battle among practices, which are battles themselves. So it's an ongoing battle among battles. Of course, premises will change along with the battles, but these changes would constitute lots of competing premises undergoing shifts, not a discipline undergoing a paradigm shift. A criticism's shift may be as significant as a science's, but it won't be a Kuhnian one.)
To continue hammering, is it ever possible for someone who doesn't accept a paradigm to claim that it is nonetheless a ruling paradigm? I mean, to make this claim without its being self-contradictory? The only case I can think of is a historian saying that a paradigm used to rule in some past time. I don't think a sociologist of the present would be right to say, "Physics has a ruling paradigm, but I have no opinion as to whether we should accept it." To call it a "ruling paradigm" is to state that it has no competitors worth paying attention to, which is to accept it. At most, the sociologist who doesn't want to endorse the paradigm can say, "Physicists are behaving as if they had a ruling paradigm, and they seem to be getting away with it."
By the way, though a big motivation for this thread is to have fun discussing ideas, I'm not speaking idly here. Many discussions of recent cultural "sea changes" founder very badly (in fact, fall head first into crap) because these discussions try to apply a model that goes, "Old idea replaced by new idea, old premise replaced by new one," and this model just doesn't work for the nonsciences.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Wednesday, 2 July 2003 16:54 (nineteen years ago) link
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Wednesday, 2 July 2003 17:08 (nineteen years ago) link
― adam (adam), Wednesday, 2 July 2003 19:32 (nineteen years ago) link
― adam (adam), Wednesday, 2 July 2003 19:34 (nineteen years ago) link
Kuhn has some interesting thoughts on why a variation of different responses to anomalies is crucial for a science. The variation of response is analogous to the variation of attributes in a species. So you might get one physicist who thinks that an anomaly is cause for a major overhaul of many of the ideas of physics, while another might work hard to fit the anomaly into the current pattern, and a scientific selection takes place analogous to natural selection. I'll write more about this when I get the time, since it's real interesting, but first I need to respond - finally - to Mark.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Monday, 14 July 2003 21:44 (eighteen years ago) link
(1) Misunderstanding is better than understanding at producing good ideas. [This originated as a joke, but you repeated the joke here, so it must signify more than just "ha ha" to you.]
(2) There's a gulf between those with musicians' ears and those without, and the former therefore can only with difficulty hear as the latter hear.
(3) Our hard-wiring makes us try to hear music as if we were hearing sentences, though in fact, since music isn't sentences, we're "hearing" something that isn't there and thus creating ideas where there had been none. [You didn't say "sentences," but this will make your idea more potent. I explain below.]
(4) If everyone instantly knew what was in everyone else's head, the fun would go out of communication.
I broke these into four pieces because each piece is independent of the others. That is, what I think of one of them won't necessarily affect what I think of the others; none needs the support of the others. But you've run the points together yourself, via some sort of emotional or experiential association. You should explore why you associate these points, recall what events provoked these sentences of yours. But you should also rethink their association, since it's leading you astray.
Point one just seems wrong (and it requires the absurd corollary that to understand someone is to end discussion, that understanding equals closure); point four makes me say "So what?" Yet somehow, these are hot points for you, relate to whatever emotional glue is binding your thoughts.
Point two has the problem that I don't know what you think musicians' ears consist of, so I don't know yet what you're talking about. This is where you have to draw the picture, rather than writing the phrase "musicians' ears" and imagining that a picture or idea will form in our minds.
I don't believe in a general "musician's ear" any more than Kuhn believed in "scientific method" (people don't learn a "scientific method" that they then apply to any old thing, they learn to be physicists, chemists, biologists, etc.). This point of mine is minor, since it doesn't preclude there being gaps between musicians and listeners; but the gaps, if they exist, may be drastically different among different musicians and different listeners, so different that the gap in one situation may not resemble the gap in another, and "hears as language vs. doesn't hear as language" may not be the gap you get everywhere. You sort of make this point yourself, but then use this as a reason not to be specific, whereas I see it as one of many reasons why you must be specific.
You need to consider the analogy I made about the car mechanic. Let's grant for the sake of argument that someone who is playing an instrument is doing something very different from someone who is listening to music. So those are two different social roles; musician and listener. But you've given no reason why the same person can't occupy those two roles at different times, or even at the same time - just as a car mechanic on holiday who's driving a car can play three roles at once, can pay attention to how the car is running (mechanic), can watch the road (driving), can look at the scenery as he does so (passenger). This doesn't mean that there's no gap in the roles; nor is it about difficulty in bridging a gap. All it means is that skill in one role doesn't necessarily detract from skill in another; just as skill in checkers doesn't necessarily detract from skill in chess. If someone keeps up his listeners' chops (so to speak), let's say by engaging with a lot of other listeners, then he'll continue to listen as a listener as well as he did before. (A car mechanic who doesn't drive much may not be a very good driver, even if he's a good mechanic. But a mechanic may drive a lot too, and may drive well, or still poorly.) But as I said, point two has no bearing on point three. If nonmusicians are hard-wired to hear music as sentences, why shouldn't musicians be as well? (Just as people like me who pay attention to sentence structure are nonetheless able to read for content; as a matter of fact, I have trouble not reading for content.) You've given no reason whatsoever, other than dogmatically restating your contention while providing no examples, why musicians don't hear what laymen hear, why one type of hearing drowns out the other. And your saying "they already find a richness of musician-type things to discuss" has to do with the context of discussion, and tells us nothing about what they fail to hear. What people discuss depends on whom they're talking to. Of course, what they listen for may have a lot to do with whom they frequently talk to; but really, you can talk to more than one type of person in your life, and learn more than one language-game, and listen for more than one thing.
None of this necessarily precludes our having to suspend some knowledge at some time. Nor does it refute your intuition. To turn that intuition into an idea, though, will require an explanation of what particular listeners actually hear, and how that differs from what particular musicians hear, and in what circumstances musicians can walk and chew gum at the same time, and in what circumstances they can't.
Your point two, disassociated from point three, may well be right under certain circumstances, but you have to give the circumstances. A trained physicist may do worse than the layman at reading Aristotle's physics, but not because he has a "physicist's eye" that prevents him from reading with a layman's eye, but rather because his Newtonian and Einsteinian training have led him to expect a pattern in Aristotle's writing that isn't there, and the expected pattern is at odds with the pattern that actually is there. And for someone to learn botany, he will have to suspend what he knows from cookery, since the latter has a classification system at odds with the former. Whereas the car mechanic has no trouble with driving and sightseeing, because they're not at odds with car mechanics. Now, it's well-known that a car mechanic's brain is bigger than a musician's; nonetheless, the musician, pinhead though he may be, is capable of holding three or four ideas in his head at once. So where a layman may hear "the chord pattern to 'Louie Louie,'" the musician will hear "E-A-Bm-A," and the musician who knows theory will hear "I-IV-v-IV." But the musician will also hear "chord pattern to 'Louie Louie,'" since it's not at odds with the other two. Where you're going wrong is in assuming that it's the amount of info in a musician's head that makes it impossible to hear as the layman hears. Let's suppose that your point three is right. You're hypothesizing that we're hard-wired to listen for illusory "content" in music. But you're also supposing that the musician is too busy listening for other stuff to do this. I doubt that you're right, since I can't see a reason why what the musician knows about chords and rhythms and stuff would conflict with his listening for illusory "content" - just as grammarians and linguists are quite capable of reading texts for content, despite their also reading for sentence structure, inflections, and so forth. In my earlier post I made a small attempt to explore where one's knowledge might actually put one at odds with knowing what the untrained person knows. To turn this point two of yours into a real idea, you'll have to do the same, but more extensively. Just what is at that you, the nonmusician, hear that I, the musician, can't?
According to your hypothesis, Chuck Eddy will hear the sorts of things in "Smells Like Teen Spirit" that I won't be able to hear, my inability to hear such things being due to my knowing how to play an instrument. You have to tell me (1) what Chuck is hearing that I can't, and (2) why it's my knowing guitar and bass that prevents me from hearing what Chuck hears, how it is that my musicianship causes the sorts of things that I hear to conflict with the sorts of things that Chuck hears.
Except I recommend you go a somewhat different route for point two. Forget point three for the time being (which would be "Chuck hears music as if it were language, but Frank has lost this ability"), and put aside the music that Chuck and I both hear a lot of, such as "Smells Like Teen Spirit." And go back to something like my example of a modern physicist reading Aristotle. Actually, I wouldn't necessarily assume the layman will do any better than the physicist; but at least I can understand why he might. So now imagine a German musician in about 1800 being confronted for the first time with African music. German music of the time - unlike British - uses the do-re-mi scale across the board, from folk music to popular music to upper-class music. So the German musician (of whatever type) may well hear the African music as out-of-tune, and the rhythm as wild or confused, since he's not aware of the different scales in African music and he doesn't understand counterrhythm. Now it's possible - though I wouldn't automatically assume this - that the German layman will be able to hear the African music better, as he's less committed by training and practice to the do-re-mi scale or to the European rhythms. So to transfer the question to the present: What in particular is the rock-pop-jazz musician of 2003 likely to be committed to that conflicts with his hearing something that the laymen might be open to hearing? Say, the laymen might be more open to music that's really new, or really old, or extraterrestrial. But be specific. Point out an actual piece of music, actual acts of listening to it, actual differences. Another question you need to explore: How are the sociomusical practices of the rock-pop-jazz fan-who-doesn't-play-an-instrument so different from and at odds with those of the rock-pop-jazz musician that the musician can't hear music in the way that the fan does? Again, I mean, specific differences, just as expecting to hear one scale may conflict with your being able to hear another. And I don't mean that the musician has values and goals that differ from the fan's; rather, that the musician's expectations are so at odds with the fan's behavior that the musician can't come close to correctly interpreting the fan's behavior (at least not without doing some research on the habits of this peculiar social species: the fan). What are the premises and ideas that put the fan's behavior beyond the musician's immediate comprehension?
So, to point three: I like the image of our straining to hear something in the music when actually it is our projections we are hearing there. That music does generate concepts is worth hypothesizing, but this hypothesis needs a lot of playing with before it will make sense. The reason that, in my summary, I wrote "We are hard-wired to hear music as if we were hearing sentences" rather than "We are hard-wired to hear music as meaningful" is that, hard-wired or not, we are generally right to hear a whole lot of meaningful stuff in music, e.g., our reading musical styles for their social markers, which is no more mysterious than reading hairstyles or clothing or writing styles or pronunciation for their social connotations. Of course, you can sometimes misread those too, but that's not mysterious either. And hearing moods in movie music is part of the social skill of watching movies; and this seems on a par with reading body language and the mood of a room. And musicians and listeners and fans can act out social relations sonically, and again this shouldn't be any harder (or easier) to interpret than other acting out would be. (And to go back to point two, there's zero reason to think that musicians would be worse than nonmusicians at such reading/interpreting, any more than hairstylists would be worse than nonhairstylists at interpreting the social implications of a haircut.) So for your intuition to have the bite you want it to, I would state it, "We are hard-wired to read sentences for concepts and to try to hear music as if we were hearing sentences and hence to try to 'read' music for concepts - and therefore, actually, to create concepts that we project onto music." I don't see any reason to believe this, particularly, and I don't really understand it (examples would be useful, as always), but it's worth pursuing, because it's not a suggestion I've heard before. Bear in mind that "reading for concepts" is not the main thing we do with sentences, much less music. Also, in discussing music we're rarely reporting how we hear it. Consider: "The Smiths are Godlike, while XTC sucks shit in the mud." In general, we're more interested in using music in our personal relations than in reporting on it, and most music discussion is a ping-pong match of back-and-forth value judgments. But also, when we do want to report, we find that music is difficult to describe and impossible to convey, and therefore what people say about music isn't a good record of what they hear. Musicians' jargon refers to how you make the music, not what it does; and laymen generally just give you genre names plus "sounds like" comparisons (as do musicians, usually).
And once again I'll ask why projecting concepts is more creative than learning concepts, or is creative at all, for that matter.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Monday, 14 July 2003 22:11 (eighteen years ago) link
Aargh I had to do this recently and I hated it. Maybe I am neither a layperson nor a musician!
― Tracer Hand (tracerhand), Monday, 14 July 2003 22:26 (eighteen years ago) link
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Monday, 14 July 2003 23:24 (eighteen years ago) link
I haven't read this yet but I'm almost creaming my jeans! I don't know much about Kuhn but I do about care about Kepler.
SOMEONE has to convert, compare, and contrast his medieval Western astrological theories with more ancient Eastern ones, as well as with the underlying Vedic/planetary philosophies behind the mechanics of jyotish, and metaphysics as a whole.
And the Kepler chapter in The Copernican Revolution is excellent for showing how a great thinker wasn't being irrational or unscientific in believing stuff that we now tend to think of as hooey.
Don't use that "we" so authoritatively Mr. Kogan! =) Thank you for posting this; I shall bookmark now and read later.
― Vic (Vic), Tuesday, 15 July 2003 00:25 (eighteen years ago) link
― Tracer Hand (tracerhand), Tuesday, 15 July 2003 03:57 (eighteen years ago) link
― Josh (Josh), Tuesday, 15 July 2003 03:59 (eighteen years ago) link
― Tracer Hand (tracerhand), Tuesday, 15 July 2003 04:21 (eighteen years ago) link
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Tuesday, 22 July 2003 19:51 (eighteen years ago) link
"Immaterial" is probably incorrect. I'll have to research this, when I get the chance. "Differently material"? The matter must have been considered non-Earthlike; otherwise, at the time there'd be no way to explain why the planets didn't all fall to Earth.
Obviously, I know almost nothing about Hegel. Presumably, Mark and Sterling know more. But they've not succeeded in communicating to me what they know. I find the statement "My theory was a theory of knowledge" totally inscrutable, so "their 'theory' destroys yet preserves yours" still reads like gibberish.
my idea that paired opposites are comparative rather than antithetical
Sterling, calling it "my" idea means that I'm the one who introduced it into this discussion, not that I'm the first person in the world to notice that, say, "hot" and "cold" are comparative terms. But "comparative terms" does not mean "the unity of opposites," so I'm not claiming the latter idea as mine, or anyone's, since I don't understand the phrase "unity of opposites." In any event, I don't see what "unity of opposites" has to do with the fact that a cold star can be a couple thousand degrees above zero, and a high-temperature superconductor a couple of hundred below. Nor do I notice any funny dialectical stuff. "Dialectical" is another word that so far has added nothing to my understanding here.
I wouldn't say that I've successfully conversed with anyone on this thread.
To elaborate on what might be one of Adam's points: A change in what counts as a "planet" is only revolutionary enough to be a paradigm shift if it throws enough other ideas into incoherence that a large number of the other ideas have to change as well.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Monday, 4 August 2003 06:01 (eighteen years ago) link
― adam (adam), Monday, 4 August 2003 11:45 (eighteen years ago) link
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Tuesday, 5 August 2003 21:37 (eighteen years ago) link
Entry into a discoverer's culture often proves acutely uncomfortable, especially for scientists, and sophisticated resistance to such entry ordinarily begins with the discoverer's own retrospects and continues in perpetuity....
Systematic distortions of memory, both the discoverer's memory and the memory of many of his contemporaries, are a first manifestation of resistance. Another, regularly found among members of later generations, is the attribution of real or supposed anomalies in the discoverer's behavior to "confusion."...
The famous paper that announced the Bohr model of the hydrogen atom was submitted from Copenhagen on 6 March 1913 and published the following July, the first installment of a three-part series. I first read it during the fall of 1962 in preparation for interviews with its author. Not surprisingly, the paper includes a full description of the quantized Bohr model for the hydrogen atom as it would be taught in an elementary physics course today. But it also includes a number of phrases incompatible with that model. In particular, Bohr sometimes wrote as though the hydrogen spectrum were emitted by an electron falling into the ground state from outside the atom and strumming all the stationary states that it passed along the way.
These anomalous remarks, together with Bohr's repeated assertion that he had not known the Balmer formula until February 1913, suggested an unexpected hypothesis, subsequently fully confirmed by the discovery of an unpublished manuscript. Many months before he attempted an explanation of spectra, Bohr had developed a quantized version of the Rutherford atom for chemical applications of the sort made familiar by J.J. Thompson. That model, which I was quite sure had had only a ground state, provided the basis for the second and third installments of the 1913 series. The first, which developed the Bohr model for hydrogen and derived the Balmer formula from it, was a last-minute insertion.
My first few interviews with Bohr dealt with the background for his atomic model, and I asked what sorts of connections he had made between the Rutherford atom and the quantum during the period before his attention was directed to the Balmer formula. He replied that he could not have had developed ideas on the subject before turning to spectra, and his assistant later reported to me that, after I had left the room, Bohr shook his head and said of our exchange, "Stupid question. Stupid question."
All that occurred at our first interview. For the next one, I included a similar question in a list submitted to Bohr in advance, and it was received in much the same way as the original. One last attempt to retrieve memories of an early quantized Rutherford atom occurred late in the third interview. This time, however, when Bohr said again that there could have been no concrete model without the Balmer formula in hand, I for the first time showed him the passages in his famous paper that led me to enquire. He looked them over and then muttered to himself, "Perhaps it was a mistake to put the paper into print so fast. Perhaps I should have waited until I had it right." Then, he went over to his personal collection of reprints, took from it a paper he had presented to the Danish Academy of Sciences six months after the publication of his original paper, and handed it to me with the words, "It's alright there, isn't it?" About the earlier model not a word was ever forthcoming.
...Faced with apparent anomalies in the work of the discoverer, scientists and at least an occasional historian protect their version of the discovery by invoking the discoverer's "confusion" during the early stages of its emergence. It is only because he was confused, they explain, that his words fail to fit their story.
These appeals to confusion are damaging, but not because discoverers are never confused. Typically, they are, and Bohr's discovery of the Bohr atom is a clear example. When he wrote the paper announcing his discovery, he had two incompatible models in mind, and he occasionally confused them, mixed the two up. No reading of his first reports on his invention will eliminate the resulting contradictions, and those contradictions, which testify to his confusion, provide essential clues to the reconstruction of his route to the discovery. The standard appeal to confusion dismisses those clues, rejects them as challenges to historical reconstruction, and permits the attribution of confusion to stand as the end of the story. That is the first part of the damage.
For the second, more serious part, compare the case of Planck. Again there are anomalies in the early papers; again they provide clues to an unsuspected state of mind; and, again, dismissing them discards evidence essential for historical reconstruction. Thus far the damage is the same. But in Planck's case, unlike Bohr's, the anomalies do not take the form of internal contradictions, and they therefore provide no reason to suppose that Planck himself felt or had reason to feel confused. If it is nevertheless appropriate to apply the term to him, that is by virtue of the second standard use of the word "confused," one independent of the state of mind of the person to whom it is applied.
Consider, for example, the case of a student who, having read a textbook derivation of the black-body distribution law, then wrote it up in a way like the one found in Planck's early papers. That student would be confused, not in the sense of being pulled about by conflicting elements in his thought, but in the sense of having seen only dimly or confusedly the structure of the derivation that had been set before him by the text. That, I believe, is the sense of "confused" in the minds of people, mostly scientists, who complain, for example, that I try too hard to make the thought of a Planck or a Boltzmann logical and coherent. Why, I am repeatedly asked, can I not simply acknowledge that they were confused?
That way of talking about a discoverer makes no sense. Taken literally, it suggests that the discovery, of which its author is to have had only a confused view, had already been made, was somehow already there, in the discoverer's mind. Occasionally that implication is explicit. The discoverer, I am then told, was relying on intuition; his view of his discovery was still so clouded that he could only grope his way to it; that is why he described what he had in mind in such odd and inconsistent ways, appeared so much a sleepwalker as he proceeded towards his discovery.
Doubtless, few of those who explain anomaly by resort to confusion would go quite so far, but all must encounter the identical difficulty. What licensed our calling the student confused was our knowledge of the concepts he brought to the text and of the proper way to fit the two together. If only he had clearly seen that much himself, he would not, any more than we, have described the derivation as he did. When, in the absence of internal contradiction, we apply the label "confused" to Planck, we are again using ourselves as the measure. We assume that Planck brought to his problem the same concepts we do, and we explain his anomalous behavior as we would explain similar behavior of our own. But the concepts we bring to the black-body problem are themselves products of the discovery Planck had not yet made. To claim for them a role in the emergence of his discovery is again to make him a sleepwalker or else clairvoyant. That is an incoherent notion of discovery - one that makes discovery dependent on prior grasp of what is to be discovered. No other result of the resort to confusion is so damaging.--Thomas Kuhn, "Revisiting Planck," HSPS (14: 231-52), 1984, reprinted as the Afterword to the second edition (i.e., U. of Chicago rather than Oxford) of Black-Body Theory and the Quantum Discontinuity, 1894-1912.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Tuesday, 5 August 2003 21:42 (eighteen years ago) link
― mark s (mark s), Tuesday, 5 August 2003 21:46 (eighteen years ago) link
― adam (adam), Wednesday, 6 August 2003 20:56 (eighteen years ago) link
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Wednesday, 6 August 2003 21:33 (eighteen years ago) link
But just as much of the error derives from semi-digested assumptions about what battles are MEANT to be like. The observing experts - who comment on the action in another room, then come in to show what really happened - pointed out (scathingly) that the tactics adopted suited troops with muskets facing cavalry, not legionaries facing tribesmen in chariots: the participants half-knew too much about later-hence-'superior' warfare, and - after being goaded out into the open and completely surrounded by vastly larger numbers - decided that savages would all just run away if their leader was killed.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Monday, 15 September 2003 17:36 (eighteen years ago) link
but back to kuhn. another fun thing to talk about is his idea of "normal science" which seems like the biggest easiest thing to contest.
kuhn claims that "normal science" in fields which are ALREADY paradigmatic and NOT in paradigmatic crisis is essentially puzzle-solving -- i.e. finding anomolies and demonstrating that they are not anomolies. i.e. not only within, but FOR the paradigm. kuhn also claims that generally paradigms don't shift within generations but between them and a key reason they are ABLE to shift is young ppl. come in and accept the new ones and the old foax eventually go away.
this is a strong claim. it applies only if ppl. are NOT reflexive about paradigms, which is dodgy. furthermore it applies only if scientists really get to set problems for themselves and if they really choose problems based on puzzle-solving to bolster existing paradigms.
so take the fact say that physics still doesn't have a grand unified theory but instead two incommensurable accounts (quantum and relative) that apply at different scales. physicists acknowledge this a problem, accept it, some work to solve it but many don't. so posit a unified theory is worked out -- this is a paradigm shift, obv. but would scientists die out before young ones accept it!? does this instead mean that physics is in a period of protracted crisis? if so we would expect MOST research, by kuhn's account, to go towards resolving this crisis. but most research does NOT. instead "normal science" proceeds to do different things largely NOT driven by a desire to resolve this massive anomoly but to extend othere discrete areas of knowledge. what areas? is this puzzle-solving of smaller issues? again, largely no. it's investigating the specific properties of certain elements and interactions. but *not* chosen by their key status in resolving anomolies, but rather b/c these elements and interactions are impt. to those giving the $, most of whom even if they're funding pure science are interested in particular applied ramifications. (i.e. if you're the dept of defense, how to make things go boom -- if yr. doing physics related to chemicals in dna, maybe how to understand cancer)
so we have to conclude that kuhn's story either doesn't hold or that "normal science" is nonparadigmatic or that it held in the special cases he examined but not today. which then means we have to ask what made it hold more for say concepts of physical motion from the greeks thru newton than now, which then means we have to say maybe this is because kuhn wasn't constructivist ENOUGH and so he can actually describe an activity called "doing science" that the greeks and newton both did, and this abstracted "doing science" contains in it the seeds of how kuhn can describe what "doing science" involves. which is to say we have to ask what about these historical actors kuhn left out b/c it wasn't "doing science."
another thing we can do with kuhn is ask if his NORMATIVE perscriptions were correct, which argued that a paradigm-driven "normal science" that he described was the "best" type of science to do b/c the loss in freedom of topics to explore was made up by a wealth of specifics.
which can also be asked by positing that paradigm-driven normal science does exist and does provide a specific set of anomoly-related questions to answer and then posing the question -- if one IS to accumulate a specialized body of data is the best way to accumulate this data and theory to choose the specialized areas of research based on anomoly-resolution ANYWAY?
we can also ask do scientists THINK they are doing "normal science" involving anomoly-driven puzzle-solving and do they think this more now that kuhn is widespread than before he was, and does kuhn's dissemination have a role in why ppl. think this is what they are doing more now. and does kuhn's dissemination also mean that they are more reflexive towards their paradigms than before.
this also reminds me that i have to read Leviathan and the Air-Pump.
― Sterling Clover (s_clover), Tuesday, 26 July 2005 05:21 (sixteen years ago) link
― Sterling Clover (s_clover), Friday, 29 July 2005 22:33 (sixteen years ago) link
I've read through your post several times without seeing where Kuhn's story is wrong or why you conclude that physics as it's currently practiced is not paradigmatic. I wonder what you think "paradigmatic" means. The phrase "anomaly-driven problem solving" isn't relevant to the question - it's a straw man, since Kuhn never said that the problem solving in normal science is mostly devoted to explaining anomalies. Whether it is or not is beside the point, at least in regard to the concept "paradigm," given that according to Kuhn all problems within a normal science - not just the anomaly-driven ones - must be approached within the framework of the accepted paradigms, and most use exemplars. The question of whether there is life on Mars is not anomaly-driven, but nonetheless is within the paradigms of modern chemistry and biology. For what it's worth, where Kuhn in The Structure of Scientific Revolutions discusses anomalies (chapter 6), they are not the bread and butter of normal science but rather the precursors to revolutionary science (albeit the result of normal science).
A quick example that illustrates both normal and revolutionary science (and I don't pretend to understand the physics that I'm summarizing): When Planck back in the 1890s and early '00s, doing normal science, tried to derive a distribution law for black-body radiation, he modeled his derivation after Boltzmann's derivation of the entropy and velocity distribution of a gas. So Planck wasn't trying to fix an anomaly, but rather to solve problem B by following a strategy used earlier in solving a similar-seeming problem A. This is an example of what Kuhn means by normal science, and Boltzmann's derivation is an example of what Kuhn means by an exemplar. Again, what makes it normal science of its day is that it uses an accepted model and is within the framework of classical physics. What eventually takes it out of normal science and makes it revolutionary is that one of the adjustments that has to be made to Boltzmann's method in order for it to work on the black-body problem is that energy levels have to be posited as discontinuous; this adjustment blows a hole in classical physics. (By the way, according to Kuhn, Planck didn't recognize at first that discontinuity was a requirement - he had in fact botched his derivation, though this was only discovered later by Einstein, who'd already figured out in 1906 (as had Ehrenfest) that discontinuity was required. Planck himself didn't come around to this view until 1908 (according to Kuhn).)
Your point about money is as irrelevant here is it was upthread. Why shouldn't problem solving go where the money is? If you want to say that Kuhn's account of normal science is wrong, you have to show that, whoever chooses the problems, and however the research is paid for, (1) the science conducted does not model itself upon strategies derived from previous puzzles, and (2) the science is not conducted within the framework of accepted paradigms.
"Pure science" versus some other sort of science (that paid for by the Pentagon, etc.) is your bugaboo, or Fuller's, but it has nothing one way or another to do with Kuhn, who never uses the phrase "pure science" or distinguishes between pure and impure. The question as to whether the science is "pure" or not, and who pays for it, simply has no bearing on the concepts "paradigm" and "normal science."
Mind you, I don't understand modern physics well enough to speak with any competence about whether it's paradigmatic or not, or whether it's going through a protracted crisis or not. Physicists don't seem to be acting as if it's in crisis, at least not in accounts read by this layman. Whether it's in crisis or not, relativity and quantum physics don't seem to be on the verge of being abandoned, and physics hasn't broken into two competing schools, those who support relativity versus those who support quantum physics, has it? Therefore, I don't see how you can say that physicists don't share the same disciplinary matrix/paradigm.
Also, is the lack of a unified field theory an anomaly? I suppose this depends on how one defines "anomaly." My understanding or - misunderstanding - of modern physics is that relativity can't be reduced to quantum terms and vice versa. However, if no one's challenging the terms themselves - i.e., relativity isn't making quantum physics wrong, and quantum physics isn't making relativity wrong - then there's no urgency, and no anomaly. Even if you think there should be urgency, the lack of urgency doesn't in any way undermine the concepts "normal science" and "paradigm," and Kuhn never said that crises must lead to revolutionary science. And - conversely - in the postscript that he added in the second edition of Structure in 1969, he said that he'd overemphasized the role of crisis in provoking a paradigm shift and that scientific revolutions need not invariably be preceded by crisis.
(I'm once again talking in ignorance, but it seems to me that an example of a potential anomaly in physics would be if "dark energy" was determined not to exist, making the accelerating expansion of the universe a true anomaly, i.e., something not yet explicable by the theory of relativity.)
kuhn also claims that generally paradigms don't shift within generations but between them and a key reason they are ABLE to shift is young ppl. come in and accept the new ones and the old foax eventually go away.
Well, first off, even if Kuhn had said this, it wouldn't be an integral part of his ideas. But in fact it's not what he said. He said the shifts sometimes take a generation, implying it's because oldsters are less likely to make the shift than are young 'uns, but he didn't say that no one in the old generation accepts a shift, which would be absurd, since sometimes the guy who starts the shift is in the old generation himself, e.g. Copernicus, Planck. Kuhn's own writing shows examples of adherents of an old theory going over to the new: Lorentz and Jeans, for instance, in regard to the quantum (and Planck too, for that matter). Whether the scientists are old or young, a significant number of scientists in a field must be converted from the old paradigm to the new one, and old people dying off won't have an impact on whether young 'uns convert if the young 'uns don't have good reason to. People aren't born into a new paradigm; they have to invent it, or embrace it.
So your word "key" and your capitalization of "ABLE" are very wrong. The key reason that a paradigm is able to shift is not that old people die off but that the new paradigm does stuff that the old one can't. That is what chapter 12 of Structure is about. The idea that old people have trouble accepting a new theory was old hat (Kuhn: "these facts and others like them are too commonly known to need further emphasis"). Kuhn's reason for bringing it up was to emphasize that shifting one's allegiance to a new paradigm was like a conversion experience, but also that people who resisted the new paradigm were not being irrational - that the functioning of science in its normal state demands that a lot of scientists assume that the paradigm they've got "will ultimately solve all its problems, that nature can be shoved into the box the paradigm provides." In any event, look at pp 150-159 of the second edition of Structure, and you'll see that Kuhn is chiefly concerned not with what prevents people from adopting a new paradigm, but rather with what persuades them to.
Also, a reason that paradigm shifts may take a generation or longer is that it takes a while for the new paradigm to be worked out. That it took until 1928 for quantum physics to pull itself together into a paradigm wasn't due to obstruction by fogies but rather due to the whippersnappers taking that long to come up with a worked-out model. So when we talk of "competing" paradigms, we're being somewhat misleading, since the "new" paradigm doesn't fully exist yet: It's under construction. Even if everyone has abandoned the old paradigm, the revolution isn't over until the construction is substantially complete.
Here's a thought (based on what Kuhn himself said): What's a crisis for one person might not be a crisis for others, hence what's a reason for overhaul for one person won't be for another. Was astronomy really in a crisis in the early 1500s due to the need for calendar reform and to the imprecision of Ptolemy's system? Hadn't these "problems" been known for years, without anyone revamping cosmology due to them? Maybe it was a crisis for Copernicus but wasn't a crisis for astronomy and physics until the Copernican ideas began to be plausible to more than a few intellectuals; it was then that you had to come up with a new concept of motion. So you could say that Copernicus caused the crisis more than that he responded to one. To return to the quantum discontinuity, in Kuhn's account it wasn't introduced in response to any big crisis but just because in 1906 Einstein and Ehrenfest realized you couldn't derive Planck's distribution law without it. This is what caused all the excitement and led to rethinking a bunch of other stuff as well.
Again, the pieces by Kuhn that I recommend most are "Revisiting Planck," which is reprinted as the Afterword to the second edition (i.e., U. of Chicago rather than Oxford) of Black-Body Theory and the Quantum Discontinuity, 1894-1912, and "What Are Scientific Revolutions?" which is the first article in The Road Since Structure. I still feel that you and I are talking passed each other, and that you don't have Kuhn's ideas fully in sight. Some preconception or need is blocking your vision, or distorting it. Kuhn's most crucial ideas - his opposition to teleology, his belief that scientific knowledge does not accumulate incrementally, his quasi-Darwinian account of how different scientists vary in their response to anomalies, his idea that scientists use models rather than following rules, and his understanding that a scientific revolution doesn't simply involve adjusting theories to facts, since the new theories create different "facts," which is what makes them "incommensurable" with the old - haven't yet piqued your interest. One thing you need to do is to set aside for the time being questions relating to mainstreams and margins and whether good stuff gets shunted aside when paradigms dominate and whether power relations as they reveal themselves in science are fair or not. You might even want to set aside for the moment the question of whether Kuhn is right or not and rather make an effort to get inside of Kuhn's head - become Kuhnian, as it were, in relation to Kuhn. Study Kuhn's writing from "the viewpoint that gives [his] opinions the maximum internal coherence and the closest possible fit to nature." Assume that, within his framework, he knew what he was about. E.g., he lived until 1996, and he certainly would have noticed that physics hadn't come up with a unified field theory, and he would have known what postwar physicists spent their time working on - he'd been trained as a physicist, after all. So you have to ask yourself why it didn't, from his point of view, jump out at him that his story either doesn't hold or that normal science is nonparadigmatic or that it held only in the special cases he examined but not today. Assume that - in fact - from his point of view, his story does hold today and that normal modern physics is paradigmatic. Read him with an eye towards finding out what that point of view is.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Sunday, 7 August 2005 03:10 (sixteen years ago) link
― ulrich schnauss, Sunday, 7 August 2005 03:16 (sixteen years ago) link
I can't make sense of this statement. It's written in some sort of code that I was never taught.
Anyway, for the sake of argument, let's say that, except where I explicitly dispute Kuhn, every idea that I attribute to Kuhn on this thread can also be assigned to me. And of course any of the ideas on this thread that I seem to be presenting as my own can also be assigned to me, even if I stole them. So now let's rewrite your sentence as follows:
kogan relativizes the cartesian divide without overturning it, and therefore renders it general.
So, now, explain and support this contention, using the actual words on this thread as your evidence. Not from anywhere else; just this thread. If you think an idea or an assumption is Kuhn's/Kogan's, check the idea against the words on this thread. And if a sentence or two on this thread seems to point towards a particular belief being Kuhn's/Kogan's, check to see if other Kuhn/Kogan words on the thread are compatible with that belief.
A brief thought, from Kogan if not Kuhn: Descartes' mind-matter divide has nothing to do with the functioning of science one way or the other, including Descartes' science. ("Nothing to do with" being a bit of an exaggeration. Descartes and others never put the divide into effect, but some of them used the divide in their philosophy, some of which was used to justify, explain, and protect science. But it was never an integral part of science.)
Another brief thought from Kogan: I haven't read Descartes in 30 years, and don't remember much of what I did read.
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Sunday, 7 August 2005 04:13 (sixteen years ago) link
― Frank Kogan (Frank Kogan), Sunday, 7 August 2005 04:15 (sixteen years ago) link
― kingfish (Kingfish), Sunday, 7 August 2005 07:55 (sixteen years ago) link