[Industrialblog,
February 21, 2006]
Algebra Follies
Around the blogosphere, there is much breast beating over Richard Cohen's Washington Post column in which Cohen iconoclastically takes on algebra:
Over here, several bloggers and commenters proceed to kick Cohen's intellectual nuts all over the place.
My two cents: You need to know algebra. You need to be able to solve something for x. And percentages. And lots of mathematics. If you can't do math, you can't reason. If you don't, you write crazy columns like Cohen's, who doesn't even see his logical errors.
/ off soapbox.
I confess to be one of those people who hate math. I can do my basic arithmetic all right (although not percentages) but I flunked algebra (once), barely passed it the second time -- the only proof I've ever seen of divine intervention -- somehow passed geometry and resolved, with a grateful exhale of breath, that I would never go near math again. I let others go on to intermediate algebra and trigonometry while I busied myself learning how to type. In due course, this came to be the way I made my living. Typing: Best class I ever took.
Here's the thing, Gabriela: You will never need to know algebra. I have never once used it and never once even rued that I could not use it. You will never need to know -- never mind want to know -- how many boys it will take to mow a lawn if one of them quits halfway and two more show up later -- or something like that. Most of math can now be done by a computer or a calculator. On the other hand, no computer can write a column or even a thank-you note -- or reason even a little bit. If, say, the school asked you for another year of English or, God forbid, history, so that you actually had to know something about your world, I would be on its side. But algebra? Please.
Gabriela, sooner or later someone's going to tell you that algebra teaches reasoning. This is a lie propagated by, among others, algebra teachers. Writing is the highest form of reasoning. This is a fact. Algebra is not.
Over here, several bloggers and commenters proceed to kick Cohen's intellectual nuts all over the place.
My two cents: You need to know algebra. You need to be able to solve something for x. And percentages. And lots of mathematics. If you can't do math, you can't reason. If you don't, you write crazy columns like Cohen's, who doesn't even see his logical errors.
/ off soapbox.
The only caveat is that people who choose to forgo certain abilities should be aware of their limitations; in particular people who can't figure out percentages should refrain from subjects involving them, such as taxes and budgets.
I trust that Cohen is aware of his limitations, and studiously avoid depending on them; e.g. surely he doesn't vote since he's so ill-equipped to give a good vote. But if he's not qualified to vote on topics like taxes and budgets and so on, he's probably a happy and good person. I very sincerely doubt that God loves a person who doesn't know albegra any less.
Well, yes, salvation and algebra may not have much to do with each other. Perhaps knowledge of algebra helps lead to knowledge of God. You never know.
Then again, maybe I'm prejudiced: back before I headed off to seminary long ago, I was originally aimed to be a mathematician. I saw the beauty of God in quaternions and Cayley numbers.
But if I think of a subject where I'm fairly ignorant— music, say, or geology— I can't for the life of me imagine beating my chest and bragging loudly about how ignorant I was of the subject, or how "stoopid" the subject was. Indeed, the mere thought of taking that attitude toward any valid field of study makes me feel physically sick to my stomach. As if I were urinating on the platonic archetypes.
With great weariness, I sometimes wonder if I'm the last person left alive in Western culture who does not laud philistinism, and cynicism, and nihilism, and the loud boastful raw-throated exaltation of ignorance. No, I know I'm not, to be realistic about it; but sometimes it sure feels like it.
And mathematics is a realm of great truth. And beauty. And yes, even goodness. So there.
Actually, mathematics is the one field of human study in which God is completely and utterly irrelevant; quaternions and Cayley numbers would be exactly the same with God, the two Gods of Zoroastrianism, the thirty some-odd gods of the greek pantheon, the everything-God-kind-of-sort-of of hinduism, or the no-God of budhism (or materialism).
Anyhow, this sort of reveling in ignorance is a very natural reaction to the sort of elitism of Bill's post: "If you can't do math, you can't reason." Socrates had no great mathematical ability — at least it was never documented that he could do algebra — but he was quite capable of reasoning.
Also, don't forget that in the gospels Jesus didn't demonstrate a whole lot of respect for scholarship.
The problem with the scholarship of the scribes and the Pharisees is that it was distorted by human pride and sin. The problem was not that there was anything wrong with God's good and righteous Law; only with those who arrogantly and sinfully bent the Law to their own ends.
The way to deal with sinful or prideful or "elitist" mathematicians or musicians or geologists is to call them out for their sin; not to urinate upon mathematics or music or geology.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I'm the last person in the world who could be considered an elitist— I also hold popular culture in high regard, I think it has entirely valid excellence of its own. I mean, I hold in high regard many things that elitists also hold in high regard: mathematics and sonnets and classic literature and symphonies and whatnot. But I also hold in high regard B movies and comic books and science fiction and the like. Each has an entirely valid excellence of its own, and if narrow cultural elitists have made a mistake (beyond taking arrogant and prideful attitudes on behalf of their "high cultural" bailiwicks), it is in missing and overlooking the distinctive but valid excellence which inheres in popular culture. As C.S. Lewis once put it, "The high does not stand without the low."
(Yes, I know, Lewis also wrote an essay— I believe entitled "Lilies That Fester"?— in which he pointed out that the Bible displays little if any regard for high culture. Lewis himself, FWIW, had (as I do) regard for both high culture and popular culture.)
What troubles me is not elitism or anti-elitism, though I definitely tend to take a broader view of things than either of them. What troubles me (as I've already said above) is the philistinism, the cynicism, the nihilism, which are so prevalent and so casually adopted in today's culture. In other words, what bothers me is the dismissive, "dissing" attitude of elitist and anti-elitist alike, toward that genuine excellence which happens to fall beyond the bounds of their own (elitist or anti-elitist) bailiwick. When I get into the pulpit on Sunday morning, it is quite enough for me to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ, calling people to confess their sins against God and their neighbor, and receive in faith the forgiveness that is available through the cross of Christ. There is no calling for me to lambaste them for their often genuine liking or disliking of Shakespeare or the Star Wars movies. Except insofar as that liking or disliking is driven by sinful attitudes such as pride, arrogance, etc.
I detest sin, and I detest sinful attitudes, sinful thoughts, words, and deeds. But as for God's good creation, which God created and saw that it was good, I love it insofar as it is within me to love it; and insofar as I don't find it within me to love it (for instance, I'm about as musical as a fencepost), I chalk that up to my own astigmatism or my own personal limitations.
"The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard; yet their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world." (Psalm 19:1-4; also cf. the rest of Psalm 19)
If the creation is telling forth the glory of God, then why not also those mathematical structures which are instantiated in that creation? Of course this is more a philosophical than a religious question; I'm not sure, but the disagreement between you and me may be largely the philosophical disagreement between nominalism and realism. (If you hadn't already guessed, I'm a screaming philosophical realist :-) This is an issue which to my mind belongs to the realm of adiaphora; intelligent Christians of good will can disagree over whether or not quaternions and Cayley numbers, like the heavens, "are telling the glory of God."
I likewise respectfully disagree with you: God created all that is, but mathematics doesn't actually exist; it's the study of what might exist. In short, God is bound by logic just as much as we are; we're bound by it because we are images of God, and he, being a rational intelligence, is bound by logic.
And you're right that the right way to deal with elitist intellectuals is to criticize what's actually wrong with them, not to criticize ancillaries to it. Still, not everyone is a philosopher, and if we're going to deal with the least philosophical 99% of the population, we're going to have to reconcile ourselves to dealing with (sometimes extreme) inexactitude of expression. These people don't really mean to urinate on the subjects themselves; only the human practice of these subjects. Most people just don't what they mean — they say something kind of like it. On the plus side, it means that they don't really mean what they're saying.
Those of us who have studied a field in depth and made progress can easily separate the field from the human practice of the field. We know that algebra's heart and sole is not questions that pretend to be relevant by asking how much fence is needed to enclose an area, as if fencing in areas was a common activity. But people who have not progressed have a very difficult time separating out the shit that beginners have to suffer through, which is largely the accretions of the last 200 years worst practice, from the actual subject. Perspective requires at least the beginnings of mastery, so it's unreasonable to expect perspective from people who never had any mastery of a subject. Now, they should be humble enough to recognize that they won't have perspective on the subject until they have actually attained some mastery, but humility is the most difficult virtue. That doesn't make it any less important, but it does make it less reasonable to expect (in the probabalistic sense).
By the way, when I said "in the gospels Jesus didn't demonstrate a whole lot of respect for scholarship", I meant that very literally. While he had a lot to say of the scribes and pharisees, he said nearly nothing, one way or another, on the worth of scholarship. It's almost like Jesus regarded scholarship as just another profession — like carpentry or farming — rather than as some sort of spiritual endeavor akin to hindu yogis. Jesus did, after all, live among and preach to people who by modern standards were extremely uneducated.
And this is the heart of the matter, to me. Our modern age has a very strong prejudice in it to associate education with moral worth. It's a natural enough error, I guess, since knowledge is good, but it's a dangerous error, because it strikes very close to pride. In my experience, it often strikes very close to pride. And what makes it dangerous is that it's one of the vices sanctioned by our culture. As Lewis (or was it Chesteron) observed, every age has its tendencies to vice, and typically thinks that its vices are exactly the opposite of the ones that it has. Our time's vices certainly include pride — it's remarkably common for people to think ourselves the pinnacal of human history in terms of morals, knowledge, love — indeed, in every virtue. And since we have the most knowledge — we could bearly help it, coming after the people who did so much of the investigation, and with the people who will know more than us not being around yet — it's natural to laud scholarship as next to Godliness, because it allows us to boast most reasonably of our extreme worth.
And such boasts will always strike the uneducated as a statement that the educated person is worth more. Is it really strange that uneducated people will respond in anger and defiance that education isn't worth a dram?
Between the two — the elitists and the anti-elitists — I tend to side with the anti-elitists. Both groups are wrong. Education is worth something, but it's far from the most important thing. The most important thing is reconciling ourselves to God — getting into heaven — and between the two groups, the anti-elitists are less dangerously wrong.
I'd agree humility is necessary, and that one of the sins in our era is pride. But this was about mathematics and reason, and yes, I'd say there's a mystical element to mathematics brought about by the beauty and elegance of the reasoning, which reflect the Forms. Mathematical proofs are true, but they are beautiful, and it's the beauty that reflects the eternal.
And the Socrates thing is a straw man. So, to a degree, is the elitism charge.
What I'm getting at is this: We have an intuitive knowledge of how the world works that is often wrong. As children, we intuitively believe certain things about the world and we're wrong about them. Mathematics and science and other forms of reasoning and experience help correct our intuitions and inform future ones.
FWIW.
you don't need to know algebra to be saved
Well, thank God for that!!! :-) Though I recall Robert Heinlein did once half seriously propose that people shouldn't be admitted into the voting booth without first demonstrating to the poll workers the ability to solve a quadratic equation...
Chris:
Ah, thank you! I understand better now where you're coming from.
God created all that is, but mathematics doesn't actually exist; it's the study of what might exist.
Spoken like a true nominalist! :-)
Of course, I would concede that mathematics doesn't actually exist, but I would go on to say that mathematics is real; where existence and reality are two distinct but interrelated modes of being. That is, I think the structures of mathematics, which we "capture" in our formalized mathematical systems as a child captures a butterfly in a net, are antecedently real, off there in "platonic hyperspace," which I also take to be one realm of God's creation.
Of course, that's a realist for you!
God is bound by logic just as much as we are; we're bound by it because we are images of God, and he, being a rational intelligence, is bound by logic.
Interesting way of putting it. I would say that God is not bound by logic, but rather that logic is bound by being a real (but not always actual) created reflection of the eternal and uncreated Logos, the second person of the Trinity. I know this is skating perilously close to John Calvin's distinction between the potestas absoluta of God, utterly unconditioned by anything except God's sovereign will; and the potestas ordinata which God exercises in his dealings with us and the created world. Then again, since I happen to be a Presbyterian, perhaps I can get away with skating perilously close to Calvin.
And if you want to know how deep that rabbit hole goes, yes, I would maintain that, had God willed it, two plus two could have been equal to something other than four, and the law of contradiction need not have held. Then again, I can think of formalized systems (such as addition modulo 3) where two plus two is not equal to four; and I suspect that in a world of potential qualities of feeling, actual existence, and real structure, such as we inhabit, the law of contradiction holds in many realms (including most distinctively "human" realms) only to a fairly high order of approximation: consider, for example, the structure of metaphor, where metaphoric tension within "live metaphor" often involves margins of self-contradiction.
Well, I'm enjoying this, but it's taking us far afield from algebra; and I also have to get ready for Confirmation class this evening, and crank out the newsletter of our local Lions Club. Best regards!
Please don't misunderstand me. I don't think that you're an elitist at all. I just meant that there is that element to your post — "If you can't do math, you can't reason".
Enjoy, Paul. Thanks. Since I'm a realist as well, and as a Christian Platonist (as far as I understand what that means), I just sort of intuitively got what you were saying.
Nominalism ... oh right. I remember something about that back when I was editing that book on epistemology. My entire intellectual battle in grad school, it later turns out, were against these forces of nominalism. Nominalism, by shoving everything back into our heads, creates far more problems than it solves.
Is Chris really a nominalist? Or is there a philosophical joke I don't get? Heretic! Heretic! (heh. for those who missed the in-joke, Chris has called me a heretic on several occasions).
Dissin' algebra teachers and claiming writing is the ultimate form of reasoning makes him sound like he's a bit insecure about the size of his writing pen.
If you know what I mean.
You rather mistake me. I'm not remotely a nominalist. It's just that I've done enough mathematics to know that 100% of everything in mathematics is conditional. You start with, "suppose that there exists..." There does not exist, in the totality of all mathematics, as practiced by humans in universities, a single assertion that anything at all actually is the case. It's all just a giant cascade of consequences from premises which are not claimed to be true.
It just so happens that many of these premises coincide with what actually appears to be true in the universe. (There is of course something of a selection bias in which premises mathematicians choose to talk about.) But the consequences of the premises are quite independent of which premises apply to reality. This isn't nominalism at all. In fact, I'm not here making any metaphysical assertions whatsoever. I'm just noting that mathematics, by its very nature, doesn't depend on anything which exists.
As to God and logic: what does it mean for 2 + 2 to equal something other than 4? 4 is just the name that we give to 2 + (1 + 1) = 2 + 2. It's no more meaningful to say that God could make 2 + 2 = 5 than it is to say that God could make Bill's name be "Bill" without his name being "Bill". It's not actually a meaningful phrase. (Of course, there are all sorts of other arithmetics, but that's just a matter of meaning something else by the same term. I could easily invent an addition operation in which, using my symbols, 2 + 2 = a snowy egret named Larifel. That's just a confusion of language, it's not me changing the nature of mathematics.)
This is kind of in the category of, "If God created an irresistable force and an immovable object, what happens if they meet?" The correct answer is, of course, "Please say something coherent". The existence of an immovable object presupposes the non-existance of an irresistable force, so to set up a situation in which both exist is just to jumble words together in a way that cannot correspond to anything. If I ask you to touch my hand without coming in contact with me, I haven't actually asked you to do anything, because I haven't presented any situation in reality that I can desire to exist. Of course, it sounds kind of like I have. The trick is to space the contradiction out so that you don't notice it. This is just a specific case of the more general form of producing nonsense which sounds intelligible &mdashl just connec the incoherent parts with enough words that typically come together. But, fundamentally, jumbles which sound like they mean something don't mean anything more than random noise. God can no more make 2 + 2 = 5 than he can lkams k3 123lk3 lkqa kdskl ia9-s kjalks 1kj232k _S(_D jk#KJ Lk # lkj# jJK@2. As C.S. Lewis once put it, nonsense doesn't become sense merely because you've prefaced it with "God can".
For analogues one looks to information theory, cybernetics, &biology, at their various depths of sunkenness into that which the shadows flitting around so smugly call "the real world." Algebra, coding, translation, interpretation. I suppose that one could call this sort of thing "inference to a conception." But sweet reason? Inference to a judgment? By Crom, that's a fiction or Sherlock Holmes didn't snort coke.
Ordered structures, conditions for applicability of mathematical induction, aren't things like that the pure math of reason, at least reason of the kind to be studied in a pure-math context? Its analogues leading to our world's degenerate cinder of the mathematical light are Deductive Theory of Logic, ageless Philosophy, not to mention the Psych and Soc of rational beasts. Behold the Sciences of Reason, and of Reason's Crackups, and every such Science cracked up into schools! I rest my case, for just a moment. Okay, long enough.
Of course, pure math is about such wild pure possibilities running off in all directions, that only by the shadow &prospect of the interruptive glove of Deductive Logic, and sometimes its young siblings, Probability Theory and Deductive Maths of Info, can we form it into sound classical sense, the sense of stately alternatives in a bounded universe, alternatives in a quantum many worlds kind of way perhaps, but nevertheless, they themselves but a Vestibule to the Sciences of Phenomena in General -- such as Statistics, Cybernetics, and Philosophy, those are where the parti-wave finally hits the screen, the rubber actually hits the road, etc., that zone of qualities, samples, packet-ripped sweets &teasing tastes and wicked delicious crests of news, the culminations, which ain't enough since they need verification, along the way to the confirmed, solid haecceitous world of facts, anchors, concrete foundations, all inter-wedded, so now they're waitin' for the end of time, dynamic, material, biological, and human, reactive, nitty-gritty, &far from the madding crowd of wigged-out Platonian possibilia and phantastic equivalences which the aetherials flitting around so smugly call "the real world."
Seriously, I don't know what I regard as the realest world. This horse is real (Concretia). This horse is really tan (Apparitia). This horse really probably doesn't win races (Alternatia). This horse is really another than this hound (Platonia). Don't blame me for my post, blame Paul Burgess, whose blog's link I followed hither.
Preach it, brother! Though to borrow a distinction from Carl Hausman, I accept accountability but not responsibility for your post! ;-)
Chris:
I hear what you're saying; honestly, I do. I understand what you're saying. I hear you and I understand you; I simply disagree.
If you say you're not a nominalist, I'll take your word for it; though it's hard for me to figure what, other than nominalism, we are to call a statement such as, "4 is just the name that we give to 2 + (1 + 1) = 2 + 2."
Believe me, I understand the mathematical issues involved. Through four years of undergraduate study as a math major, and then three further years of graduate study in math, I learned and came to understand the mathematical issues involved. At which point, no longer being able to deny my calling, I turned around and quit the university math department for the seminary. I understand the mathematical issues involved, and I gather that you too understand the mathematical issues involved.
I understand, Chris. In all charity and mellowness, I understand you. And I simply disagree. And the disagreement between the two of us on this topic is not a mathematical disagreement; it is a philosophical disagreement. "100% of everything in mathematics is conditional," yeah, I understand that, it's engraved in my bones; it simply led me to quite different philosophical territory than you evidently inhabit.
There are differing philosophical positions on issues like these: I'm sure you're every bit as aware of that as I am.
Can God will that 2 + 2 = a snowy egret named Larifel? Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. And not just as a matter of shuffling names or labels, but as a matter of transcendent created realities. This is of course a philosophical assertion on my part, but I mean it quite seriously. Of course, a universe in which 2 + 2 = a snowy egret named Larifel would differ so radically from the universe we inhabit, that we can form only a vague conception of it. Not incoherent, but vague, in Charles Sanders Peirce's sense of the term "vague." Has God created such a universe? He may have. He may not have. I mean, could well be.
If I were to spin that out in further gory philosophical detail, I'd be doing so along the lines of my remark above: consider, for example, the structure of metaphor, where metaphoric tension within "live metaphor" often involves margins of self-contradiction: and in some cases, very wide margins indeed. Believe me, I'm not saying this casually or unthinkingly, I mean it quite seriously; and if I'm wrong about it, I've put a great deal of thought and intellectual effort into becoming so very wrong about it.
As C.S. Lewis once put it, nonsense doesn't become sense merely because you've prefaced it with "God can".
Yes, I recall that remark of Lewis's; and it's one of the fairly few places where I would radically disagree with him, in favor of something more like (note, I say "more like") Calvin's aforementioned and utterly untrammeled divine potestas absoluta. Or in other words: nonsense may not become sense merely because we've prefaced it with "God can"; but nonsense and sense alike become sense whenever God in his sovereign will prefaces it with "God can."
I hear what you're saying, Chris; honestly, I do. I hear it, and I understand what you're saying, and I respect what you're saying; only, with all seriousness and careful consideration, I disagree.
And we'll just have to leave it at that. I don't have the time or energy to expand on this at book length.
I never thought that you didn't hear me, or that you didn't understand me. I hope that you'll be able to indulge me further.
I still believe that there's something of a mistake of language here. 2 + 2 = 4, given all of the definitions and stuff (piano axioms, definition of addition, etc), is roughly the same thing as saying that the father of a man is his grandfather. "Grandfather" is the name which we give to the relationship. It wouldn't make any sense to say that God to make a universe in which grandfathers are female; that would at best be redefining either the term "male" or redefining the term "female" (or father, etc).
Reality is by no means a human construct, though of course we obviously participate in creating it through our actions. Language, however, is entirely a human construct (or at least mostly). Noises or squiggles only mean something if we agree to give them meaning. Of course we hope that these meanings correlate with an objective reality which exists independently of us, but our squiggles and noises can fail at this.
If God can make 2 + 2 = a snowy egret named Larifel, he'll have to either change the meaning of 2, the meaning of +, the meaning of =, or the meaning of a snowy egret named Larifel. Because all that 2 + 2 = 4 means is that the successor to the successor to the successor of the first element, should such a thing exist, is the successor to the successor to the successor of the first element, should such a thing exist. It's a tautology because it's true by definition. (Obviously, I'm employing the piano axioms here, not the set theoretic axioms.)
I guess perhaps that you're claiming that God could create a world in which tautologies are false, which is to say, God could actuate contradictions. Perhaps this will clarify your position for me: if God applies an irresistable force to an immovable object, what happens?
Language, however, is entirely a human construct (or at least mostly). Noises or squiggles only mean something if we agree to give them meaning.
Ummmm, no, I don't agree. Signs mean whatever they really mean— "really" in the sense of "realism" & Platonic forms— independently of whatever you or I or any multitude of people may think of them.
I don't agree that language is entirely a human construct; it would be closer to my position to say that humanity is entirely a construct of language; or more precisely, that the entire universe is a perfusion of real signs, and that humanity is entirely a construct of those real signs.
And I don't agree that Noises or squiggles only mean something if we agree to give them meaning. It would be closer to my position to say that any noise or squiggle means something (though it may or may not mean what we think it means); and that we only mean something if those noises and squiggles agree to give us meaning.
I dunno, like I say, I take your word for it when you say you're not a nominalist. But this sounds to me like a pretty good off-the-cuff nutshell summary of the fundamental disagreement between realism and nominalism. Or maybe I'm just too filled with insomniac fatigue toxins at four-something in the morning, Central time.
Oh yeah, one last point:
Perhaps this will clarify your position for me: if God applies an irresistable force to an immovable object, what happens?
Why, whatever God wills to happen. Utterly without trammel or limit other than God's sovereign will itself: whatever God wills to happen.
Over on my blog I've posted three murky quotations, allegedly relevant to our conversation here, which may further amuse or puzzle you. Right now you'll find them at the top of the page; for later easy reference as they scroll down, here they are: one, two, and three.
And with that, I've got to get back to bed, otherwise I'm going to be stumbling around tomorrow like a man walking underwater. And tomorrow I've got to finish getting out the Lions newsletter, plus start on planning out a series of Midweek Lenten services. Ash Wednesday is coming up fast. Chris, Bill, all, this has been one of the most engaging conversation threads I've participtated in, in a long, long time. Thanks!
So you hold that the lines in the word "dog" actually refers to something, quite independently of our definition of the thing? That in fact it might refer to a squirrel, and all of us english speakers has it wrong? And of all of the languages on the earth, who use different words to signify the same thing, which one of us is right? What about when a word changes meaning? For example, awesome used to mean fearsome, and now is means extremely good. Does that mean that at least some group of English speakers is just outright wrong? Supposing us to be right and our forebears to be wrong, when one of them said, "The fire in the theater was an awesome sight", and the guy standing next to him understood him perfectly, they were misusing language?
And what about the constant human habit of inventing words? We need a word to refer a particular polycarbonate polymer, so the word Lexan comes about. Should people naming things stand in fear and dread that they might be picking the wrong word, and misnaming the thing?
I'm having a difficult time understanding your position. If I say to you, hold up one light if the british are coming by land and two lights if they're coming by sea, how is this communication not purely a human invention? Is there an eternal platonic form of british-light-counts somewhere? Had Paul Reverse &co reversed the meaning of the count, would disaster have struck, or what?
Please explain, for I find this claim highly perplexing. In particular, how does it mesh with the fact that people can agree to use any sound or symbol (that they can produce) to signify some idea to another person. If I tell you that by flithblatter, I mean a dog, and that my wife's flithblatter is in need of a bath, you'll understand me perfectly. How is the mutual understanding that "flithblatter" signify's a dog not a construct of ours? Since I can do this with any noise or squiggle, it seems that they're all infinitely flexible about what they're willing to mean.
Even more, the meaning of a word, as we use it, depends largely on context. If I talk about "tip", that collection of squiggles can mean either giving a waiter money or pushing him over. The collection of squiggles can't inherently mean both, but I can easily mean both by it, and be understood in both meanings. Is the permission of a squiggle, which I can rely upon always being given, even worth talking about? It's not like the squiggle "tip" has the power to stop me from using it to mean anything that I like it to mean.
As to God, the object, and the force: if the object moves, it wasn't an immovable object. If it doesn't move, it wasn't an immovable force. Regardless of what God does, when applying the one to the other, he will have failed to create both. If the object ever moves, he did not make it immovable. If it never moves, the force was resistable.
So, I guess that the question is that if language is useless to describe reality, why bother with it at all? Why do you talk, when nothing that you say can be important, since it doesn't actually signify what's real (if I understand you correctly)?
When you get down to it, I can understand mysticism. What I can't understand is why a mystic would ever talk about it.
Not at all. Not at all. Not at all.
Nor do I think that "language is useless to describe reality." Not at all. Far from it!
And since I'm very busy today, I'll simply have to ask you to re-read, and to re-think, what I've already written. Or else just let it go; but in that case, please don't substitute a straw man in my place.
If you want to know who stands behind much of my thinking on signs, realism, etc., it would be the late 19th and early 20th century American logician and philosopher of science Charles Sanders Peirce. Though don't hold Peirce responsible for everything I've written here, I know I've said things here that he would have disagreed with.
And now back to work on a busy, busy day. Best regards!
I didn't mean to imply an insuperable discontinuity between the platonic forms and us, in your view. But you can't deny that while the platonic forms are each unique, languages aren't. If there in fact is a platonic form for the sound to denote a dog, there's only one of them. That's the entire point of the platonic forms: each is the perfect ideal of whatever it is. There are many men, but only one platonic form of a man. There are many chairs, but only one platonic form of a chair. (Ok, that's simplifying a bit.)
How, then, do you account for the many human languages which vary so substantially as to have virtually nothing in common (e.g. Japanese and English, or English and Apache, etc.)? And if one or more of them does correlate so badly with the platonic ideal language, would not the rest be human constructs?
Please help — I'm finding it very difficult to make out what it is that you're saying.