Further, how would you feel (a) if your doctor spoke to you only in theory-speak or (b) if your doctor did not know any theory-speak or was not familiar with the technical language of his/her own profession and, thus, could not communicate about the technical aspects of your health?
In fact, medical doctors are known for communicating in their own doctor-speak, which is good and necessary for them and for their professions, of course, and as long as that doctor-speak stays critical and within the walls of those professions. So in effect, a professional in any field that has a critical-theoretical background needs to foster a kind of working split consciousness—one side for theory-language- speak, and the other side for common-language-speak.
Two discourses:
Theory-speak (or technical-speak)
Common-speak
Such theory-speak and technical-speak are essential in the professions because of the movement of discovery within the fields and because of the concomitant call for refinement, definition, and concision of terms to match the nuances of that discovery and the systematics and applications that flow from it.
First, our professions need to maintain an ongoing connection with the history of their profession which is peppered with quite-distinct terms and concepts; and second, the nuanced distinctions and relationships need to be maintained within and throughout the given language: for a modicum of standardization and consistency of meaning, and for the use of all who are a part of it and who converse—especially when the end-run is to have the particular patient in mind--you and me.
Important here is that such field-defined terminology often does not fit well in common discourse or in the lay-person’s communications. Here, what is good language in medical or other theoretical-technical circles becomes indecipherable jargon in common-language circles.
Also, applications into detail may be on the horizon in any theoretical movement of mind. However, with theoretical thought, the refinement of general knowledge--developing theory--is the central focus. Whereas in common discourse, knowledge commonly regards details (not generalities) and is at the service of existential-ethical applications or implementation--not what I know as general theory, but what can I to do in the details of my life (Lonergan [on commonsense and theory] 1958 and 2000).
From Medicine to Philosophy
Philosophical meaning and its language is like the medical doctor’s meaning and its language in the sense that the philosopher may know more about (a) philosophical foundations in general, having spent years in the profession, its history, and movements of thought and, if engaged in a discussion with you, about (b) your philosophical foundations in particular.
Further, just like you can carry around and use your bones without ever asking a single question about them, so we all can carry around our philosophical foundations without every asking a single questions about them.
Furthermore, the medical doctor and the philosopher are alike in the sense that philosophical language can be, often is, and often should be theoretical-technical—and thus, jargon-sounding to those who have not studied philosophy.
Again, like technical-medical language, technical-philosophical language (a) is essential to those immersed in the historical and theoretical professions and (b) often sounds like jargon when brought into a common-discourse arena. Further, if we are engaged in any of those professions, we need to remain aware of the distinction between the two discourses--one general, technical-theoretical, and the other common and invovled with the details of our lives.
Differences and Their Manifestations
Unfortunately, however, where the two fields differ is where teachers and philosophers can locate potential problems in trying to foster philosophical communications—problems that cannot be sorted out so easily, that relate to our present project (finding and hopefully consciously appropriating the mind) and, thus, that need to be brought forward for your consideration here before going forward in the main text of Finding the Mind.
As I have suggested at other places in the text, I have tried to translate many technical terms into more common language that will be more easily understood by “lay” persons. However, as with many medical terms, some philosophical language already has become a part of the lexicon of common speech in many circles of communication. For instance, ego, the unconscious, and the terms theory and philosophy themselves all have their technical and common meanings which are, in some cases, quite opposed and, so, their meanings need to stay "pinned to the wall" of whatever field of discourse we are in at the moment.
The problem with that multi-circle usage in any field is that, in the migration from technical to common usage, the meaning of specific terms has probably changed; and more probably it has lost its technical nuance. So that, in order to avoid much confusion, readers need to be aware of potential new meaning of old-and-used-already terms, and of what may be wrongly-developed meaning that will not suffice for technical-theoretical use.
Second, unlike the experience of the medical doctor, people who either have or espouse (or both) philosophical knowledge often find themselves faced with the charge of arrogance. Indeed, arrogance may be present in anyone, e.g., in a medical doctor, and especially in someone who has recognized the power of philosophical knowledge.
However, philosophical knowledge is personal in a way that goes way beyond what the medical doctor can know about us. That is, philosophical knowledge has to do with how we think, about not only our specific knowledge as such, but what we think knowledge is in the first place (and the good, and truth, being and the spirit, and what it means to be a genuine and authentic person, etc.).
Further, instead of manifesting in the body, philosophical issues and problems manifest in our language expressions—in our thought, speech, and writing. You or others who are not well-acquainted with philosophical history, its technical discourse, or its personal meaning will not be able to “see” philosophical meaning, or hear it, or read it, as it emerges. Whereas, for a well-versed philosopher, philosophical meaning bleeds out from underneath and into a person’s expressions, and shows up, …well, …like blood would be noticable on the page as the narrative goes forward.
And so, instead of getting naked in front of the medical doctor every six months or so, and where you are in control of taking off your clothes, for the philosopher, we all get philosophically naked, often without knowing it, every time we (and you) open our mouths or write something down.
Such nakedness can be unsettling to the naked person should they become even slightly aware of it. However, all communication is fraught with philosophical implications that the well-versed philosopher cannot help but become aware of, in one way or another. Once learned well, to become unaware of philosophical meaning bleeding through would be like your becoming unaware of what these words mean at the moment you look at them.
For instance, once you have a general notion of what letters and the word "moment" mean, their meaning jumps off the page at the moment you look at that word. Once we learn to read, we cannot NOT read words when we see them. Recognizing philosophical meaning is like that.
It is basic philosophical assumptions that those in the profession have spent a good amount of thought-time on, and spilled a good amount of ink writing about. Again, the knowledge philosophers speak of and understand is what is already assumed and becomes manifest (to the philosopher) in the writer-speaker’s expressions.
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And so, in this way, unlike medical knowledge, but like getting-naked in a room full of clothed people, philosophical knowledge of others in the philosopher can be experienced by that other-person as a loss of power—over myself and over the distinction between (a) my interior and very private life (at least I thought it was private), and (b) the one I choose to convey to others. Open you mouth, and there they are--your philosophical assumptions in all of their nakedness.
The Onset of Real and Imagined Arrogance
Further, and very unlike with the professors of medical knowledge, such fear and loss of power (founded or not) can produce fear and a correlate accusation of arrogance on the part of the philosopher.
Again, medical doctors or philosophers may be arrogant or paragons of humility and genuineness. Either may be wise or ignorant, morally sound or degenerate, or changing and somewhere in-between. However, philosophers do not become so-arrogant only because they have studied and come to know, and have a good working grasp of, profound personal and theoretical knowledge. As in any field or profession, and regardless of what kind of knoiwledge we have, including in philosophy, the person is still under venue of the question:
What kind of person are you, and what are your ethical, political, social, and spiritual horizons?
Thus, philosophers or teachers, etc., are “elitist” only in the sense that the medical doctor is elitist--for having knowledge that we do not. A person engaged in a lifelong field of learning should have a “higher” and deeper knowledge of his-her field. Philosophers, then, should know something of our field that is commonly not known in common-discourse circles.
On the other hand, we are “elitist” if we use our knowledge as a source of self-petting or as a hierarchical wedge or leg-up on the intellectual, moral-ethical, social, political and-or spiritual life of other human beings.
Let us keep such distinctions in mind throughout our experiment and, indeed, at the background of any philosophical study we may decide to undertake.
END: Appendix 19
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