A thought about a circular conversation I had
The American intellectual begins arguments from an extreme state of paradox, and it is for this reason that America does not respect intellectualism nor does it foster it. The first thing that happens in an intellectual argument in America is that the two intellectuals take sides because, despite all reasoning to the contrary, we believe that there is always a pro and a con in the debate. Arguments of definition or nuance simply aren't worthwhile. Often this results in two sides arguing vehemently against each other, though both believe exactly the same thing. My friend Jason calls this a coffee shop debate.
This is not the paradox. The paradox for the American intellectual relies on the first move in the debate which is to claim that the expert sitting opposite knows only a hair's breadth more about the subject then the average slightly above average intelligent man or woman on the street. That their expertise is little more than a bit of a head start. In this way, one may sit down with a doctor of philosophy, having never read Sartre, and begin immediately to discuss the worth of Being and Nothingness. They've read the book, you haven't, but what does that really mean? This rather gross overconfidence is, I think, fallout from the understanding that we can educate people through television, that nifty notion that was popular for about a year in the 50s. Thus, while we no longer believe that watching a whole bunch of television is going to make anybody smarter, we figure that our "general knowledge" derived from rather public sources (and not from a moment of serious study on the subject) is nearly expertise. We may even think it expertise, only not validated by some meaningless bit of paper called a diploma.
So, the argument begins by telling the other side that you know nearly as much about their subject matter as they do, and well...you disagree. Step two is to offer why the thing you know about is far more applicable to the question at hand, all the while assuming that the other side has no skill in this secondary area of knowledge, even though you've already assumed that every one of reasonable intelligence pretty much knows most everything already. They're a professor of philosophy, you've seen I Heart Huckabees--whose to say who knows existentialist thought more?
Thus the American intellectual operates prima faeci from the assumption that intellectuals know much about everything and that the intellectual with whom they are speaking knows nothing about the area from which the counterargument is derived.
I posit a solution. Unless we have reason to believe our claims bolstered by expertise, maybe we should assume that what we are saying is without real weight, that perhaps we should not always be so concerned that we be taken seriously, especially when there is nothing serious about what we know in an area. It's good to know things, but if some small kernel of knowledge is somehow absent from our massive domains of knowledge, maybe that's a good time to listen rather than to argue from a point of ignorance.
Because ultimately, if everyone's an expert, and everyone disagrees then there can be no way to utilize expert knowledge so as to achieve results.
This is not the paradox. The paradox for the American intellectual relies on the first move in the debate which is to claim that the expert sitting opposite knows only a hair's breadth more about the subject then the average slightly above average intelligent man or woman on the street. That their expertise is little more than a bit of a head start. In this way, one may sit down with a doctor of philosophy, having never read Sartre, and begin immediately to discuss the worth of Being and Nothingness. They've read the book, you haven't, but what does that really mean? This rather gross overconfidence is, I think, fallout from the understanding that we can educate people through television, that nifty notion that was popular for about a year in the 50s. Thus, while we no longer believe that watching a whole bunch of television is going to make anybody smarter, we figure that our "general knowledge" derived from rather public sources (and not from a moment of serious study on the subject) is nearly expertise. We may even think it expertise, only not validated by some meaningless bit of paper called a diploma.
So, the argument begins by telling the other side that you know nearly as much about their subject matter as they do, and well...you disagree. Step two is to offer why the thing you know about is far more applicable to the question at hand, all the while assuming that the other side has no skill in this secondary area of knowledge, even though you've already assumed that every one of reasonable intelligence pretty much knows most everything already. They're a professor of philosophy, you've seen I Heart Huckabees--whose to say who knows existentialist thought more?
Thus the American intellectual operates prima faeci from the assumption that intellectuals know much about everything and that the intellectual with whom they are speaking knows nothing about the area from which the counterargument is derived.
I posit a solution. Unless we have reason to believe our claims bolstered by expertise, maybe we should assume that what we are saying is without real weight, that perhaps we should not always be so concerned that we be taken seriously, especially when there is nothing serious about what we know in an area. It's good to know things, but if some small kernel of knowledge is somehow absent from our massive domains of knowledge, maybe that's a good time to listen rather than to argue from a point of ignorance.
Because ultimately, if everyone's an expert, and everyone disagrees then there can be no way to utilize expert knowledge so as to achieve results.
posted by Monstro D. Whale at
1:38 PM
4 Comments:
Wait a sec... I thought expert knowledge existed solely for the coffee shop chat. You mean people actually use that stuff for more than useless banter?
It is ironic that English professors, who glean much of their knowledge from books, must have real-world experiences in order to fully comprehend that which they read.
Historians, on the other hand, can gather practically all knowledge of their profession from books.
Well...yeah, English is absolutely comparitive. How do you know if Hemmingway is acurately portraying love in The Sun Also Rises unless you're comparing it to a real world.
At the same time, after reading Sartre I don't think I'm an expert on global warming. I listen to people who are. The American Intellectuals response seems to be that if they've read Sartre, how hard could this be...and if I could read it and understand, then why don't we just assume that I have read it and pretend that I know what I'm talking about.
That's right... because if you should have read it, and could conceivably have read it, your point is just as valid as if you had read it... in their minds.
I see what you mean. What I often notice is that expertise of an intellectual nature is often dismissed by thoughtless people as not belonging to the "real world." If there is an expression I would carve right out of the language and throw into the hospital dump along with gangrenous legs and other such offal it would be the expression "real world" ("on the ground" is lousy too).
Roxy Katt
Pornographer and Cultural Bolshevik
"True pornography is given us by vastly patient professionals"
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