High Five

QuadrigaAdding words to our account of the communicative landscape does not fundamentally change what we’ve observed about inference and communication. Just as I make inferential estimates of what time in the morning it is (speaking of which, I need to find my sleep mask soon), or from my beloved wife’s mimed gestures when babies are sleeping, so I make inferential estimates of the most likely sense for the words she speaks or writes. There’s no “inner” or “real” meaning in the words; they’re a gesture, a verbal gesture, with the same status as a finger held to her lips, or a flat hand raised above her shoulder.

But that’s the second key element in the picture: when Margaret (or anyone, but we’re talking about Margaret now) speaks or writes words, they are words she has chosen based on her estimate (as speaker) of what I am most likely to infer from them. Again, there’s no intrinsic meaning at stake; she produces words calculated to elicit from me the results she wants. If she wants me to go to the grocery store to obtain food for dinner, she says, “Sweetheart, would you go to Tesco for a couple of things?” and it’s a pretty safe bet that I will in fact satisfy her desire. Were she to aim at the same effect by saying “Rapidly piddlepot strumming Hanover peace pudding mouse rumpling cuddly corridor cabinets?”, we may safely predict that the results would be different. Linguistic communication, on this account, is not sui generis nor paradigmatic for other modes of communication; it is continuous with other communicative modes, albeit in an extraordinarily precise, rule-governed way. It would be a dire mistake, however, to leap from “atypically precise” to “intrinsically precise” in order to amp up the degree of certainty that our inference can provide. We may be able often to recognise “time to wake up”, but that doesn’t entail our capacity really to ascertain that it’s 6:47.

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The Flesh Is Weak

HoopoeThis evening, Margaret and I were dining on a sumptuous feast of leftovers, including some fried aubergine with garlic — friend aubergine and garlic that had made the most of its time in the refrigerator. And it had gathered its forces into one concentrated clump of pungency. One clump, hiding in the rice at the bottom of the bowl. Lying in wait.

Most readers will know me to be the sort of guy who thinks the best of everyone until they compel me to think otherwise, so I didn’t give the clump of rice at the bottom of the bowl a second thought — it was just there to contribute to my tasty repast. Little did I anticipate the intense explosion of garlic fury in my mouth. Worse yet, the sudden burning sensation cause a hiccup, a mini-gasp, that drew a knot of the garlic stuff to the back of my throat. That was an unfortunate turn for me; for the next four or five minutes I was wheezing, gulping breaths, nose streaming, mouth ablaze, coughing, sucking air.

It took about fifteen minutes, maybe twenty, till I felt normal again. This provides the sort of occasion through which one can perceive vividly the frailty of mere human flesh, and return to comfort before too long.

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Adding Words

QuadrigaYou have graciously borne with me in considering communication by wordless inference, in both non-intentional (“natural”) and intentional (“conscious animal life”) circumstances. I used inverted commas in my parenthetical characterisations because I’d like to allow for non-intentional inference in circumstances that aren’t simply “natural”, and because I want to be careful about what I say about intentional communication among some animals (without prejudging the circumstances for or against). Clearly animals interact in ways that seem to imply “communication” of some sort — and again, that’s all I’m after at this point.

I’m ready to add words to this picture, but please allow me to do so not all in a rush, but very slowly and carefully. Let’s go back to Margaret and me communicating; you’ve already allowed that we can get by, when we need to, without words (for topics that don’t require intense intricacy or precision). Once we begin to add words into the picture, our capacity to communicate effectively enters an entirely different domain of economy, precision, and effectiveness. We’re about to go buy some groceries; if we had to work out our shopping list, indeed even the premise of “going to the grocery store”, without words, we would take a very long time and might not arrive at a fully agreed agenda. With words, we can assent to the premise of a shopping trip, determine what we anticipate purchasing, and change our plans on the fly with minimal trouble. Yes, sometimes we misunderstand one another and find ourselves at cross purposes — but compared to the practice of communicating for such errands without using words, our verbal communication functions with fabulous ease and success.

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Not That ‘Happy’

HoopoeWell-intentioned vicar Dick Keith of St Eormengyth’s Church in the Isle of Thanet generated concern and dismay at the Easter service this morning. The priest — perhaps inspired by the BBC television series ‘Rev’, and apparently hoping to piggy-back on the viral success of clergy seen singing reformulated pop songs and dancing at weddings — instructed a churchwarden to be sure to videorecord the sermon this morning. Upon ascending the pulpit, the culturally tone-deaf clergyman burst into a specially composed version of the pop song “Happy.”

Unfortunately for him, and for the congregation, the vicar of St Eormengyth’s knew that people from all ages, all nations, and all occupations had made videos miming along to the hit song — but he confused the Oscar-nominated ditty by American rapper Pharrell Williams with the forty-year old single from the Rolling Stones’ album Exile on Main St.:

Never kept a wafer past sunset
Always drained the chalice right down
Never made a bishop happy
Never got a post in a market town

I need God’s love to keep me happy
I need God’s love to keep me happy
Jesus, Saviour keep me happy
Jesus, Saviour keep me happy

Always gave communion to strangers
Didn’t want to baptise no babe
Never want to be like Pilate
Crucifying lads every night and day

The performance reportedly went on for several further verses, as horrified Easter visitors made hasty departures and dismayed parishioners looked on. Local resident Arianna Worth-Portentous noted that although the congregation had been dwindling over the years of the vicar’s tenure, she was not convinced that this was the most promising way of evangelising the community. ‘The parish has seen much better days,’ she intoned, ‘but it would be better if someone would stand up and be counted, someone with a sanctified mind.’

The vicar himself was undaunted by the unexpectedly tepid response to his plan. ‘Ministry in the twentieth century requires us to go out on limbs sometimes, and some stodgy traditionalists aren’t ready to reach out to today’s young people in their own way. A prophet is not without honour, except in St Eormengyth’s, I guess.’

The churchwarden who recorded the ‘sermon’ declined to make a copy available to the press, noting that he had been instructed by the diocesan chancellor to embargo it pending action in consistory court. The recording was played once before a small group of local journalists, one of whom indicated that ‘[“Happy”] would no longer be her favourite tune’.

Mick Jagger could not be reached for comment, but a representative said that he was sympathetic.

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Busy Holy Saturday

I know, I missed Maundy Thursday, and now I’m taking this feeble way out of posting today as well. I spent all day today working on a sermon, all the time that I wasn’t praying or rehearsing. But at least I remembered to post an apology.

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Without Words

Quadriga“Inference” is a tricky category. We can think of plenty of instances for which we can specify precise criteria for successful inference, but these are swamped by the plenitude of situations in which successful inference from circumstances can be judged only on a rough-and-ready, close-enough sort of way. I can infer the time of day from the illumination filtering through my bedroom curtains, and that is ordinarily a satisfactory guide; but some mornings are exceptionally cloudy, or unexpectedly bright, and that pattern of inference really only works during the transition from night to day (it’s harder to distinguish 10:00 from 11:00 than 5:30 from 6:30 this time of year), some of us are better-attuned to morning light than are others, and of course some days the government instructs us to change our clocks by an hour. And even under the optimal circumstances, most of us can determine “It’s time to get up” but not “It’s exactly 6:47.” We do well enough (relative to particular expectations) almost all the time (but not absolutely always) by inferring time from bedroom-illumination; yet illumination-inference differs profoundly from consulting a radio-controlled digital timepiece.

Similarly, when Margaret and I need not to speak — when our infant children were sleeping, or when we’re observing an interval of silence, if we’re at a concert or in a gallery, or even if we’re playing Charades or Pictionary — we know one another well enough that we can often communicate effectively by gestures and facial expressions. Similarly, particular musical compositions generally evoke predictable sentiments among listeners. Colours apparently tend to cue particular physiological and behavioural responses. Scents, textures, noises, ambient temperatures, architectural and decorative spaces (awkward phrasing, can be improved), provide the basis for inferred responses. Some of these are highly predictable, some are more idiosyncratic, and the more aware we are of the degree to which a particular sensuous expression can be relied upon to evoke a particular response, the more successfully we negotiate the semiotic environment.

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No Licence No Cross

So this is the story: St Stephen’s House had been planning, for months, to enact an open-air Passion Play in our East Oxford neighbourhood. We’d been planning, rehearsing, arranging, for months (led by my dear friend and colleague Fr Damian, and our student Alice). Everything seemed to be set — as I understand it, everything had been handled just as it was last time, only even more carefully — but the Oxford Council seemed to need one more for filled out, which form it was in fact too late to submit by the time we were asked for it.

As a result, the Passion Play was cancelled, and we thought that was the end of it (as far as I know, everyone at SSH was keeping quiet about it). Until we saw the cover of this morning’s Oxford Mail:

Now there are stories in that paragon of journalistic reserve the Daily Mail, BBC Oxford’s Twitter account (the BBC itself hasn’t picked it up as yet), and who knows what will be follow.

As my former co-worker Bernard observed, “So with the right permits in place crucifixion is OK? I would like to see those forms please. Or is this an English thing?”

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Jeely Piece O’ My Heart

QuadrigaNow, this is the pivotal dimension of my first premise: all interpretive activity involves inference as its key element. Whether I’m interpreting cloud formations, or the quality of light in my bedroom, or gestures, or spoken words (the interpretation of speech, especially in an unfamiliar language or accent, is a big clue here), or words on a page — all of these entail a practice of inferential reasoning. “It seems awfully bright — I may have slept late.” “Those clouds look heavy and dark — I should wear my macintosh.” “Her hand brushed mine — maybe she likes me!” “Ye cannae fling yer pieces oot a twenty story flat.” I notice; I ponder; I infer from what I perceive; I’ve attained an interpretation.

Contra approaches to interpretation that posit an intrinsic meaning which the interpreter endeavours to discover, the process of inference I’m describing here asks the question “Why does this look that way?” or “What accounts for these sounds in this sequence?” When an interpreter sets out to answer the question “What’s going on here?”, the range of appropriate responses may very sensibly include alternatives other than “the intrinsic meaning of this phenomenon — clouds, smell, light, pitch, tone, glyphs, touch, whatever — is X.” Where the phenomenon in question appears to involve an intentional agent, some interpreters will want to determine the likeliest intent that came to expression in the phenomenon. That’s not the only legitimate, only “normal,” only regulative, only ethical approach to take, however. Sometimes interpreters have a particular interest in considerations other than those that the intentional agent considered paramount. Sometimes the self-conscious intent in question differs from other dimensions of the expression (think of the small child, weeping, red-faced, loudly asserting “I’m not upset!”). Interpretation of phenomena comprises a great deal more than ascertaining the meanings of words and paraphrasing the combination of the words used.

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[I have the feeling that these two paragraphs my be moving too fast. I may need to step back and go over the reasoning more carefully anon.]

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Justifying Means

QuadrigaI’d like to pause here for a moment to distinguish several usages of the verb “mean.” In the first, we say “I mean” in the sense of “I intend”; in a second, we say “That [word] means” in a lexical/semantic sense (“This word means ‘insubstantial’”); in a third, we say “That means” in the sense of an implication or entailment (“That means Heather is Robbie’s aunt!”). When we talk about “meaning,” it’s easy to slide from making claims about intentions to making claims about semantics, or to implications — and although I don’t suppose I’ve thought through enough possible examples to say that these should always be distinguishable, I certainly have seen cases in which an entailment has been used to warrant claims about an intrinsic semantic property. Likewise (to resume the example from last time), if we say “Red sky at night means good weather tomorrow,” the most fitting usage regards this as an inference from observation of weather patterns, not as a semantic property of red skies or as a celestial intention.

So we don’t need to succumb to the vapours if somebody (such as I) who opposes the notion of subsistent meaning uses the formulation “X means Y.” They might be using the phrase as an alternative to “X implies Y” (the option “X intends Y” won’t often come up as an intelligible possibility, I think). Or they may be using “X means Y” as a reasonable shorthand for “I can show numerous instances in which X is used synonymously, or ‘with the force of,’ Y.” The Greek word cheir (sorry, I haven’t bothered to change the DB_CHARSET setting in my wp-config.php file yet) means “hand.” Although I try to avoid this construction, Introductory Greek classes usually just want to know glosses, not semantic theory. Once you get beyond the very most simple glosses, though, the casual use of “means” tends to fund confusion about how languages and translation work. People can mean (intend) and circumstances can mean (imply) and words, glyphs, sigla, et cetera can “mean” (signify). In this last case, though, attributions of “meaning” always imply particular bounds, particular qualifications, and they never attain to simplicity or transcendence — we can’t appeal to “it just means X” or “it really means Y.”

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[A more dense two paragraphs than I’d have liked, but I’d like to be able to use the word “mean” hereafter, so I’m covering the semantics of “meaning” here.]

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Ref Log

Hoopoe

Back in antiquity, referrer’s logs provided troves of information to even a casual viewer (such as I). Now, it appears to me (perhaps wrongly) that search engines such as The Big One withhold information on the search terms that point to your page, and some sites seem to conceal the place from which they’re linking, and so on. Obviously, now that people care (financially) about the Web, such information equals power equals cash. But I’d like to leave a little marker here pointing back to times when you could find out a great deal of what you might want to know from an elementary scan of your logs. If (as it seems to me) those days are gone, it’s another way that commercialisation corrodes the Web.

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Forward Into The Past

I might be photographing my Sheaffer pens today if I weren’t trying to imagine a short sermon for Monday. As I am in fact trying to dream up a Monday sermon, I will note in passing that some dear friends of ours from Olden Times on the internet (more than ten years ago, little ones!) joined Margaret and me for a Google Hangout yesterday afternoon, and Jeneane Sessum, Halley Suitt, Elaine Frankonis, Gary Turner, Frank Paynter, Kevin Marks, Dean Landsman, and even the mysterious Chris Locke laughed ourselves silly for more than an hour. Too bad the internet makes us antisocial, or we might have had a reply good time.

Doc wasn’t on board for that romp, but a few days ago he blogged about his practice of photo-sharing. “Hardly a week goes by that a shot of mine doesn’t find its way from Flickr or Wikimedia Commons into a newspaper, a magazine or a blog post somewhere,” says Doc, and he’s not vain nor greedy (all Creative Commons licensed, free to use with attribution). The joy of putting images and ideas into play for others to use, the delight in hanging out with friends with whom we’ve been in touch for more than a decade now, these are integral parts of the internet that we’ve built: good friends, good craic, and lots of sharing. That’s what I’m writing about when I commend the Web and its future (not “massive profits for Facebook”). Those are worth preserving; I hope that our governments can, for a moment, see past the pounds and dollars and preserve the common goods that attend an open Web — not abstract principles and lofty ideals, but real people doing worthwhile things.

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I Didn’t Know You Cared

Quadriga Let’s start with waking up in the morning. My bedroom is lighter than it was several hours ago, perhaps even admitting a beam of light or two. I infer that it’s time to get out of bed, or at least to look at the clock. Where is the “meaning” in the ambient light? Or if it’s dark, grey, and cloudy, I expect rain; is there “meaning” in the clouds? In the lack-of-brightness?

We who are able to, we identify cues that experience has taught us to associate with situations — and to respond on the basis of that experience. Where (as in these examples) the cues to which we respond are not (typically) associated with intentional agency, we do not need to divine someone’s thoughts in order to ascribe some sort of “meaning” to sunshine, or clouds, or chilly winds, or long tracts of muddy field, or whatever. To this extent, we understand well enough the syntax of “meaning” in situations apart from [human] intentional agency. “When it is evening, you say, ‘It will be fair weather, for the sky is red.’ And in the morning, ‘It will be stormy today, for the sky is red and threatening.’”

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[I do not mean here to open the canned worms of “pre-linguistic experience,” though that’s manifestly relevant. The pattern of inference from visual stimuli — and as I will argue later, from other sorts of sensuous perception — doesn’t depend on linguistic mediation, however much those phenomena may be saturated with linguistic associations.

People seemed a lot more interested in yesterday’s paragraphs than I expected. Being the sort of academic character who I am, I will endeavour to gratify that attention by expatiating on the topic — but I’ll continue at a two-paragraph pace, both to save wear and tear on my brain and to oblige myself to be conscious of what I want to say and how it might hang together.]

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