Knowing What Something Is.

Thraupis Episcopus, Blue-gray tanager, also called the Blue Jean in Trinidad and Tobago.

Recovering yesterday from the silicon insult, there was a quote that I kept coming back to as I awoke now and then.

You can know the name of a bird in all the languages of the world, but when you’re finished, you’ll know absolutely nothing whatever about the bird… So let’s look at the bird and see what it’s doing — that’s what counts. I learned very early the difference between knowing the name of something and knowing something.

Richard P. Feynman, “What Do You Care What Other People Think?”: Further Adventures of a Curious Character

We use labels to communicate things to other people, and it’s all based on some common perception. The bird pictured is blue-grey, so some very smart person called it a blue-grey tanager, where tanager is a type of bird that has common characteristics to other birds we call tanagers. Then someone who was taught too much Latin in school decided it looked a lot like the ‘Bishop of Thraupi’ (the literal translation). I have no idea why it’s called a blue-jean in Trinidad and Tobago, but it is what it is.

As most creatures, they’re interesting in their own way. I spent a lot of time watching birds in Trinidad and Tobago, taking pictures of them as a challenge, most of which ended up on Flickr and most of which weren’t that great. In doing that, I learned about how the birds interacted with others, what they ate, and when I talk about a blue-grey tanager all of that is behind the label. I know what the bird is based on what it does, how it behaves, etc.

It’s not just a label.

In the movie ‘Good Will Hunting’, a similar point was made in one of the more epic tirades done by the late, great Robin Williams:

…You’re an orphan right? You think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are, because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you?

“Good Will Hunting” (1997), Sean speaking to Will.

The obvious way to go with this would be about identity politics and some of the silliness that ensues with it because clearly labels don’t mean as much as who the people we’re talking about actually are, but that’s not where I’m going with it – though in a way, I am.

When we look at generative AI, and how it can be trained on the way we have communicated in the past, be it art, writing, etc, all it’s really doing is using the labels as puppets. It doesn’t understand what it has spit out in response to a prompt.

I’ve met people like that. In fact, in my younger days, I was more like that than even now I care to admit – reading about things I didn’t understand, and having my world view defined by the views of others. Actual experience varies, and that’s the point of all of it. That diversity of experience is what enriches our society, or should. It’s additive.

It’s impossible for us to be able to share all of our experiences with others, but we can share more if we go beyond the labels. That one picture above of the blue-grey tanager did not just happen. It required me to understand the bird to get close enough with only 3x magnification on one of the original digital cameras to get the detail I did, it took trimming the plumb tree just right to allow the branches to be close enough from the top of the stairs, and it required a lot of patience in developing trust with the birds – that I wasn’t going to eat them.

The very experiences that make us human are the things we need to fall back on to be human these days, not the rote memorization and regurgitation of labels that generative artificial intelligences are much better at than we are.

We need to understand these things.

Fool’s Errand.

Buddha Quote 103

He deals the cards as a meditation
And those he plays never suspect

– Sting, ‘Shape of My Heart’, Ten Summoner’s Tales (1993).

The cliché, that no one understands, echoes humorously in minds that take great pains to explain themselves, dedicating great portions of their lives such that they are not misunderstood – only to realize that despite what they may have been told, they are not the issue. Few people know how to listen, something that cannot be taught, and fewer have a reading comprehension that stacks up above the scribblings of graffiti they call ‘news’ in this day and age. The spoken word is confused, the written word a vernacular of acronyms that cascades down the chasm of context known only to the author.

If even the author knows.

WTF IDK EIEIO.

And then when they don’t understand the motives, the reason, the driving force…

He doesn’t play for the money he wins
He don’t play for respect

– Sting, ‘Shape of My Heart’, Ten Summoner’s Tales (1993).

Suddenly, the fool and the wise share the same fate as the intelligent and those less so: Babel, even in the same language.

That realization of the fool’s errand, that Scylla to the Charybdis, can either break or build. It’s so very hard to tell the difference.

To Contemplate, to Understand.


Contemplate
I’ve been reading “Labyrinth of Solitude” by Octavio Paz – an overdue read – and he made a point about how the Mexican way is to seek contemplation, and the North American way is to seek understanding.

My inner Mexican contemplated because my inner North American didn’t understand. Of course, I’m not Mexican, and to label myself by a continent is pretty foolish – the latter not stopping people from doing it – but the point is that there is a cultural difference between the two, and I have always preferred contemplation.

The world I have lived in has constantly tested my understanding, giving grades along those lines, and I often find myself in conversation with people who believe that they understand something because someone told them, or they read it somewhere… someone else’s contemplation becomes their understanding. It isn’t earned.

I suppose in a world that constantly moves faster, borrowing the contemplation of others and making it one’s understanding is the way forward for a lot of people through formal education systems. It’s probably why I never truly thrived in them consistently, only thriving in demonstrating understanding subjects I had contemplated. This might be perceived as a flaw. I see that it demonstrates a flaw in society.

A borrowed understanding is not true understanding; a borrowed understanding comes from a context that is not your own. An understanding – a true understanding – comes through contemplation, and therefore is never complete.

If you understand that, I do believe you missed the point.