fairness and meaning

[From Rick Marken (2003.10.08.0850)]

Hi Phil --

This is Phil Runkel responding to Marken's request of 2003.10.06.2220.

Rick: Oh, sorry. I have not kept copies of those contributions of
Nevin's. I have not been reading critically. Bruce's descriptions have
struck me as internally consistent and as matching very well the way I
think people behave with language,

So you, too, experience words like "fairness" and "patriotism" only as sounds with
no meaning (evoked perceptions) other than their part of speech? How unfortunate.
If the words and sentences could evoke perceptions for you, you might be amazed at
the fun you could have reading grammatical strings of words like those in the poem
"Jabberwocky".

and he portrayed behavior sequences
that I had previously known nothing about. So I have been happy with
that state of affairs, and have felt no need to protest. If a sentence
or two did not seem just right to me, I did not feel a need to complain.

I can understand that now. If all sentences meant to me was their order within
sentences then I wouldn't have felt a need to protest much of what Bruce said
either.

Best regards

Rick

···

--
Richard S. Marken, Ph.D.
Senior Behavioral Scientist
The RAND Corporation
PO Box 2138
1700 Main Street
Santa Monica, CA 90407-2138
Tel: 310-393-0411 x7971
Fax: 310-451-7018
E-mail: rmarken@rand.org

[From Rick Marken (2003.10.08.0910)]

Bill Powers (2003.10.08.0839 MDT)

My viewpoint on these matters is always that the brain and only the brain
is the active agent in all matters, linguistic and otherwise. I resist any
implications that the environment is in control.

Of course!! I've been talking as though words point to perceptions. In fact, words
only do what the brain wants them to do. If the brain wants to use words to evoke
perceptions and imaginations (as my brain does when I read "Jabberwocky") then
that's what the words do. If my brain wants to use words to indicate parts of
speech, then that's what the words do. If my brain want to use words only as
conventional interjections in conversations (eg. "hello"), then that's what the
words do. As that great perceptual control theorist Humpty Dumpty said, words
mean just what we want them to mean, nothing more and nothing less.

Best

Rick

···

--
Richard S. Marken, Ph.D.
Senior Behavioral Scientist
The RAND Corporation
PO Box 2138
1700 Main Street
Santa Monica, CA 90407-2138
Tel: 310-393-0411 x7971
Fax: 310-451-7018
E-mail: rmarken@rand.org

[From Bill Powers (2003.10.08.0839 MDT)]

Bruce Nevin (2003.10.07 23:45 EDT)--

A word that is meaningless conveys zero information. The information
'carried' by a word correlates directly to (is measured by) its
combinability with other words.

I don't know where these rules are coming from, but I find it hard to
believe them. When you speak of words that convey information (no quotes,
although "convey" would seem to mean about the same as "carry"). I don't
know of any words or combinations of words that either carry or convey
information about anything but themselves. The nonverbal information that
we associate with words comes from inside us, not from the words that enter
our brains through eyes and ears. If you haven't had the experience of
perceiving the color red, I don't think that hearing or reading "red" will
either convey or carry it to you. Ditto for "fairness", "integral",
"above", and "square." I think you must be speaking metaphorically.

I can agree with you that many words have meanings only in the sense that
they have definitions given in other words, or else that they are commonly
used in familiar situations by other people. We can get cues about when to
say please and thank you even on occasions when we have no clear perceptual
referent for either utterance (just as we know we should set a place at the
table with the knife and spoon on the right, without any particular reason
of our own for doing so).

However, the idea that we say words only because of the way they commonly
occur in connection with other words is pure behaviorism. It says that
there are no meanings outside the stimulus value of words and word
patterns. At least (since I know that you in particular would never
intentionally take the side of behaviorism) this idea, however you try to
express it in words, has inadvertent behavioristic implications. Any
concept that requires incoming stimulation from the environment to have
predetermined significance to the brain supports the concept of stimuli
with the power to govern behavior. Whether that concept can be justified or
not, I certainly did not intend to provide a place for it in PCT.

It is not surprising that an idea like this should arise within
linguistics; the predominant theory of behavior all during the growth of
linguistics has been behaviorism, and it would be astonishing if teachers
and mentors in this field did not fall into at least some behavioristic
modes of explanation. What was the alternative, before PCT?

Perhaps you find it equally hard to believe what I believe: that people
have long complex conversations that are actually not governed by anything
but empty customs about manipulating verbal symbols, and in my view have
close to zero meaning. This happens in politics, science, religion, sports,
and any other field you care to name. Oh, there is always some "meaning" in
a vague kind of sense: the sense of "I'm here, I'm listening, good to see
you, stay with me," and so on -- more like implications of the fact that we
are trading words, than any experiences the words themselves indicate.

To me, searching for meanings is a difficult task that is often frustrated.
It is a problem of trying to guess what experience another person is trying
to indicate by words and sentences (and paragraphs and chapters and books
and libraries). There are not nearly enough words for each meaning to go
with just one word; we have to recyle words, hoping that context will help
to eliminate the wrong interpretations that listeners will try to fit to
them. Often we search through our vocabularies and knowledge of syntax and
grammar in vain, not finding any words or word combinations that stand a
chance of getting what we are experiencing inside ourselves across the
barrier into someone else's inside.

Heinz von Foerster had a phrase he used rather too often, and may have
lifted from Bateson, but is still appropriate in a lot of situations:
"Don't look at my finger, look where I'm pointing!" (that sounds cute
enough to have been Bateson). I get the feeling that linguists, in studying
words and word relationships, are looking too much at words and not enough
at where they are pointing. There ought to be another complementary phrase,
something like "Don't look at my arms, look at my reason for waving them in
front of the orchestra." Arms do not wave themselves; they do nothing that
the brain does not tell them to do. Similarly for words: words mean nothing
by themselves; a brain is required to supply them with meanings, and they
mean to a brain only what the brain tells them to mean. Skillful use of
language means learning how to attach meanings to words skillfully,
swiftly, and appropriately.

My viewpoint on these matters is always that the brain and only the brain
is the active agent in all matters, linguistic and otherwise. I resist any
implications that the environment is in control.

Best,

Bill P.

[From Rick Marken (2003.10.08.1200)]

Bill Powers (2003.10.08.1216 MDTY)

I don't think anyone said that "words like fairness and patriotism are
meaningless."

Perhaps no one said exactly this. But I think this has been Bruce N.'s point from
the start. I now understand Bruce's argument to have been that "fairness" doesn't
mean anything in the sense that it doesn't point to any perception. He argued that
"fairness" has meaning only in terms of how it is used in a sentence. But I think
you have now gotten to the nub of the matter. What words mean -- whether they
point to low or high level perceptions, imaginations, parts of speech (also
perceptions, of course) or whatever depends on what the user of the word wants
them to mean. So I (and most everyone I talk to) usually want "fairness" to point
to a certain type of principle perception. Bruce wants "fairness" to point only to
its part of speech. Which just illustrates your point, that words are used for
whatever the user wants to use them for.

Best

Rick

···

--
Richard S. Marken, Ph.D.
Senior Behavioral Scientist
The RAND Corporation
PO Box 2138
1700 Main Street
Santa Monica, CA 90407-2138
Tel: 310-393-0411 x7971
Fax: 310-451-7018
E-mail: rmarken@rand.org

[From Peter J. Burke UCR 10/8/2003 11:14AM PST]

     Bill Powers (2003.10.08.0839 MDT)

     Bruce Nevin (2003.10.07 23:45 EDT)--

     >A word that is meaningless conveys zero information. The information
     >'carried' by a word correlates directly to (is measured by) its
     >combinability with other words.

     I don't know where these rules are coming from, but I find it hard to
     believe them. When you speak of words that convey information (no
quotes,
     although "convey" would seem to mean about the same as "carry").

There seem to be some consensus that meaning is perception. If that is the
case then convey would be appropriate not carry, since the meaning is in the
response to(perception of) the sound or written word and not in the sound or
written word itself.

Peter

[From Rick Marken (2003.10.08.1420)]

Bill Powers (2003.10.08.1413 MDT)

Rick Marken (2003.10.08.1200)--

>Bruce wants "fairness" to point only to its part of speech.

That was your suggestion, not his. I doubt very much that this is what he
meant.

That's true. Bruce's idea of the meaning of a word seems to be that meaning is
"what constrains us from putting [the word] in one place rather than another". In
English, one of the main constraints on placing a word in one place rather than
another is the word's "part of speech": whether it is a noun, verb, article,
subject, object, and so on. But there certainly may be constraints other than a
word's "part of speech" that determine where it can be put in a sentence. I was
just using "part of speech" to _mean_ "what constrains us from putting words in
one place rather than another".

I'm sure we will be hearing further on this matter.

After this election I am sure of nothing anymore, except that I am a stranger in a
strange land;-)

Best

Rick

···

--
Richard S. Marken, Ph.D.
Senior Behavioral Scientist
The RAND Corporation
PO Box 2138
1700 Main Street
Santa Monica, CA 90407-2138
Tel: 310-393-0411 x7971
Fax: 310-451-7018
E-mail: rmarken@rand.org

[From Bill Powers (2003.10.08.1216 MDTY)]

Rick Marken (2003.10.08.0850)--

Hi Phil --

> This is Phil Runkel responding to Marken's request of 2003.10.06.2220.
>
> Rick: Oh, sorry. I have not kept copies of those contributions of
> Nevin's. I have not been reading critically. Bruce's descriptions have
> struck me as internally consistent and as matching very well the way I
> think people behave with language,

So you, too, experience words like "fairness" and "patriotism" only as
sounds with no meaning (evoked perceptions) other than their part of
speech? How unfortunate. If the words and sentences could evoke
perceptions for you, you might be amazed at the fun you could have reading
grammatical strings of words like those in the poem "Jabberwocky".

I don't think anyone said that "words like fairness and patriotism are
meaningless." If they refer to something you can perceive at some level
(that isn't just more words), then for you they have meanings. Jabberwocky
has those meanings that you connect to words like brillig and slithy, and
to patterns made up of those words and other more familiar ones. But the
meanings are what YOU connect to the words, not what the words bring into
your brain through your eyes or ears.

Best,

Bill P.

[From Rick Marken (2003.10.08.1430)]

Bill Powers (2003.10.08.1224 MDT)--

Rick Marken (2003.10.08.0910)--

>Of course!! I've been talking as though words point to perceptions. In
>fact, words only do what the brain wants them to do. If the brain wants
>to use words to evoke perceptions and imaginations (as my brain does
> when I read "Jabberwocky") then that's what the words do...

To give Bruce N,. his due, we have to reconcile these truths (as I take
them to be) with the problems of establishing symbolic communication
between independent hierarchies of control systems.

I don't think it's _fair_ to give Bruce N. his due unless he gives us our due;-)

Best

Rick

···

---
Richard S. Marken, Ph.D.
Senior Behavioral Scientist
The RAND Corporation
PO Box 2138
1700 Main Street
Santa Monica, CA 90407-2138
Tel: 310-393-0411 x7971
Fax: 310-451-7018
E-mail: rmarken@rand.org

[From Bill Powers (2003.10.08.1224 MDT)]

Rick Marken (2003.10.08.0910)--

> Bill Powers (2003.10.08.0839 MDT)

> My viewpoint on these matters is always that the brain and only the brain
> is the active agent in all matters, linguistic and otherwise. I resist any
> implications that the environment is in control.

Of course!! I've been talking as though words point to perceptions. In
fact, words
only do what the brain wants them to do. If the brain wants to use words
to evoke
perceptions and imaginations (as my brain does when I read "Jabberwocky") then
that's what the words do. If my brain wants to use words to indicate parts of
speech, then that's what the words do. If my brain want to use words only as
conventional interjections in conversations (eg. "hello"), then that's
what the
words do. As that great perceptual control theorist Humpty Dumpty said,
words
mean just what we want them to mean, nothing more and nothing less.

To give Bruce N,. his due, we have to reconcile these truths (as I take
them to be) with the problems of establishing symbolic communication
between independent hierarchies of control systems. It does us no good to
insist on our private meanings for words if nobody else assigns the same
meanings to the words (words = words, phases, sentences, etc.). When we
first enter the linguistic world, the main problem is figuring out what
other people are meaning by the words they utter, and our first concern is
to learn how to tell others when we wish to convey what we understand to be
the same meanings. "Ouch" is not an utterance with a meaning dictated by
our genes, but we very quickly come to understand what others are feeling
when they say this word, and to say it ourselves when someone causes us to
feel what we understand to be the same sensation. And the meaning is not
just the pain we feel, but the anger, fear or resentment as well.

I think some people argue that language itself is an evolutionary
development (rather than simply a byproduct of other developments like
mouth muscles). If that is the case, there could be built-in mechanisms
that favor forming connections between configuration, transition, event,
and relationship signals and memories of other perceptions. So while the
brain may actively establish the meanings of words, the mechanisms that
permit this kind of connection to be made can be built in. I wouldn't want
to state my case so strongly as to rule out reasonable alternatives.

Best,

Bill P.

[From Bill Powers (2003.10.08.1413 MDT)]

Rick Marken (2003.10.08.1200)--

Bruce wants "fairness" to point only to its part of speech.

That was your suggestion, not his. I doubt very much that this is what he
meant. I'm sure we will be hearing further on this matter.

Best,

Bill P.

[From Bill Powers (2003.10.08.1415 MDT)]

Peter J. Burke UCR 10/8/2003 11:14AM PST --

There seem to be some consensus that meaning is perception. If that is the
case then convey would be appropriate not carry, since the meaning is in the
response to(perception of) the sound or written word and not in the sound or
written word itself.

I guess that "convey" does have a meaning of "to impart or communicate by
statement, suggestion, gesture, or appearance." But the verb is still
transitive, implying that the word is doing the conveying. I don't really
object to that way of speaking -- it's so embedded in language that we'd be
driven to awkward extremes to avoid it, and I won't take on that windmill.

I know it's impractical but I nevertheless recommend as an exercise the
thought-experiment of building a device that would be able to grasp the
meanings of words. Of course if meaning is carried or conveyed by the marks
on paper or the sounds, then this reduces to the problem of detecting the
meaning in addition to detecting the marks or sounds. If it's there, it
should be detectable by some device, right? Go ask a communications
engineer to recommend a good meaning detector.

When he stops laughing, or after she has thrown you out of her office,
consider what you would have to put into a device to allow it to detect
meanings of words. Any practicable solution would require not a
meaning-detector, but a meaning-indicator. You'd have to analyse the sounds
or marks to recognize patterns, and then you'd have to have a store of
possible meanings which could be indicated after any pattern had been
recognized. The meanings would have to be in the system already, before the
meaning-indicator could select the correct one that corresponds to the
detected symbol. And the meanings would be of a nature quite different from
the physical nature of a word.

I haven't even raised the question of what form these stored meanings would
take.

The point is that meaning doesn't arise in the manner of a response to a
stimulus, but through a very active process of perception and synthesis.
Turning words into meanings, or meanings into words, is a lot of work. You
have to have a device with a lot of functions in it, and without that
device, you might be able to hear or see words but that's all they would
be: sounds and marks. We won't be able to understand meaning until we can
say what this device would have to do, in enough detail to allow building one.

I don't think we're there yet.

Best,

Bill P.

This is Phil Runkel replying to Marken's of 2003,10.08.0850.

Rick: Your response to my too-brief characterization of my reaction to
Nevin's long and complex messages is itself full of complexity, though
brief. I do not feel capable just now of summoning sufficient thought
to respond decently to it. I have been keeping copies during the last
day or two of some of the missives on this topic, hoping that I will
have time soon to sit and deliberate and think. I find all of them
fraught with mixtures of old ways and new ways of talking, and at first
reading, at least, I find myself skipping over parts that begin to make
me dizzy. I don't know that I will be able to think up something worth
repeating to other people; I'll try first to find something I think
worth repeating to myself. --Phil R.

[From Bruce Nevin (2003.10.15 20:42 EDT)]

Rick Marken (2003.10.07.2200)–
Bill Powers (2003.10.08.0839 MDT)–

The following quotation from Eli Wiesel may help explain the long delay
in replying: “There is a difference between a book of two hundred
pages from the very beginning, and a book of two hundred pages which is
the result of an original eight hundred pages. The six hundred are there.
Only you don’t see them.”

Though far less than 600 pages, there have been many words, sentences,
paragraphs to delete for various reasons, and many needles to remove
(such a bouquet of nettles!) carefully so as to avoid any perception of
injury.

Also, this has been a very busy time with other matters.

Rick, Bill is correct that your suggestion that I am reducing meaning to
“parts of speech” is off the mark, not a paraphrase at all of
what I said. Although it is a step sort of in the right direction:
dependency classes of words (which is what the “parts of
speech” of your high school memory approximate) do indeed reflect
lexical semantics at the grossest level.

Bill, here’s my paraphrase of what seems to be the core issue for you.

Any

concept that requires incoming stimulation from the environment to
have

predetermined significance to the brain supports the concept of
stimuli

with the power to govern behavior. Whether that concept can be justified
or

not, I certainly did not intend to provide a place for it in
PCT.

If I say that something in the environment has predetermined significance
to the observer, then it follows that this something in the environment
causes or ‘governs’ certain behavior, and this is mere behaviorism. You
are quite right that I am not advocating any form of behaviorism. So you
are puzzled.
In a way, I am saying that there is information in the environment. Now
this only looks like a nettle I’m handing you. I am not saying this as
the Gibsonians do, about everything in the environment. I’m talking only
of certain things that people put in the environment, controlling their
shape precisely in order that there should be information in them. Please
let me try to explain what I mean.
Take a simple case of a sign or symbol. You may recall from your Boy
Scout days, or from reading, that an old-time scout on the plains might
indicate to followers which way to go by bending some of the tall, tough
grass, tying an overhand knot in it, and pointing the tuft above the knot
in the right direction. Followers, knowing the convention, would come
upon this and go in the indicated direction. Any passing animal or bird
settling from flight might bend the grass, but the knot is a bit of
information: this is a human artifact. The way the tuft is bent indicates
a direction in an analog way, so I suppose it is more than one bit of
information, but it is information nonetheless. After the scout has moved
on, that arrangement of the grass remains behind. For anyone who knows
the convention, that information is in the arrangement.
On the basis of that arrangement, the followers reconstruct something
like the perceptions that the scout was controlling: “go in this
direction”. Those perceptions are not in the environment, in that
arrangement of the tall prairie grass. Nor do the followers receive those
perceptions from that arrangement, no more than the scout put those
perceptions into the arrangement.
Of course we’re dealing here only with the simplest form of meaning,
ostensive reference to a present perception input from the environment,
like pointing at a brick, but even at this rudimentary level there is
information in an arrangement observable to any comer in the environment,
placed there by one person with the purpose that any other coming upon it
later, and knowing the convention, would perceive the information and
reconstruct from it the perceptions that he desires them to
reconstruct.
The knotted and bent tuft of grass does not cause any behavior. But it is
an artifact of perceptual control by one person that is placed in the
environment where it can be used as a means for another person to control
a perception of the first person’s intention.
That is how language works. By certain features we recognize “Oh,
this is speech, and not just noise of some kind,” and we recognize
further “This is English speech.” This is analogous to the knot
in the grass. We recognize that these sounds or these marks are an
artifact of perceptual control by a human being, which is purposefully so
structured that we can reconstruct the intention of the speaker or
writer, and placed in the environment so that we may do so. The structure
in this artifact is information that has been placed in the environment
by the speaker or writer.
Structure, form, information. Not all structure is so informative. The
critical ingredient is that the structure, and its relationship to other
controlled perceptions, must be conventional, and the convention must be
pre-established in both participants, both the one placing it in the
environment, and the one encountering it and reconstructing the intent of
the other. Without that pre-set convention, we have Nasrudin and the
foreign priest ‘conversing’ with finger gestures, the priest’s profound
and subtle interpretations contrasting comically with the Mullah’s rather
more earthy story.
The difficulty – and here is one point of such Mullah Nasrudin stories
– is that we are limited to what may be conventionally indicated.
The scout cannot say “watch out for rattlesnakes” with
grass-tuft signs, or “travel quietly and see if you can bag
something for dinner along the way”. This is the main reason for the
approximateness and ambiguity of language with which you (2003.10.08.0839
MDT) expressed such dissatisfaction. The information in language is
not the same as the perceptions that you reconstruct from it, nor
those that the speaker or writer intended you to reconstruct.
This information is, nevertheless, an important part of the meaning of
language: the linguistic information.
You express unhappiness with the unsatisfactoriness of a lot of talk and
writing, which you consider to be meaningless. Clearly, there is
information in it, in the above sense. You can paraphrase what is said
and then protest “but that doesn’t mean anything,
really!” What’s going on here?

Let’s start with talk whose only purpose is to “make
conversation”. My mother-in-law is a fan of this kind of talk. It
should be entertaining. To hold forth for a whole paragraph at a time is
boring. It should not be controversial, the proverbial no religion or
politics. Its purpose indeed is to pass the time in a pleasant way and
demonstrate friendship, or even to help establish friendship. The
emotional tone of the interlude is what is important, information or
finding the truth of any given matter is beside the point, and in fact
even intrusive, a disturbance. A certain amount of this kind of talk
appears to be necessary to maintain ‘social solidarity’, or whatever you
want to call it, even at convocations of physicists or astronomers, and
indeed we see a fair amount of such purposefully harmless chit-chat at
the CSG gathering. It appears to establish some kind of human
relationship basis for indulging the person when they do hold forth on
some idea or finding that they are struggling to get across, without
dismissing them out of hand for failing immediately to make what they say
match up with what you know to be true.

When we hear or read someone hold forth about something they actually
know little about, their failure to match some expected conventions
disturbs the process of reconstructing their intentions. Similarly when
we hear or read someone holding forth about something we know about
without precision.

Much of discourse, especially in academic and scientific fields, turns on
references to known players and their positions, arguments, conclusions,
refutations, etc. These can be quite specific, without their specificity
appearing anywhere in what you’re listening to or reading. This is true
even of mathematics. Consider:
There are at least two common ways of defining angle measurement: in
terms of an inner product and in terms of the unit circle. For Euclidean
space, these definitions agree. However, the taxicab metric is not an
inner product since the natural norm derived from the metric does not
satisfy the parallelogram law.

<http://www.physics.orst.edu/~tevian/taxicab/html/>
Among the referents here are “inner product”, “unit
circle”, “natural norm”, and “parallelogram
law”. Elsewhere, these are described in detail, in words whose
referents are more immediate. Those in turn typically contain references
to further discussions at a more immediate and ‘concrete’ level. For a
reader who is familiar with these concepts, it is as though the
descriptions and discussions of e.g. “natural norm” are
included here. And indeed they are present, in such a reader’s memory.
Ability to paraphrase such discussions of background information is what
is meant by “knowledge” of a field. For such a reader, these
discussions are included by reference. That is exactly what these
references do. For other readers, such descriptions and discussions are
not included. The writer has assumed that I can recall them from memory,
but I can’t. For me, this paragraph is imprecise and vague; for a
mathematician of even modest training, it is quite precise and not at all
vague.
Let’s look at some other words and phrases in our example from
mathematics. Skipping over the phrase there are" (which has
to do with sequencing and relative emphasis, that is, information about
the information in the sentence):
at least: This phrase may have a specific reference to perceptual
input from the environment in some contexts, but here the information
seems to be that there might be more than two, and probably also that the
existence of more doesn’t matter for present purposes. It’s a hedge
phrase. I bet the controlled perception is “So don’t pick nits about
it, fellow mathematicians, cut me some slack.”
two: Numbers are very specific (albeit “about”
unspecified perceptions), but except for relatively small numbers they
are far more specific than any perceptual referent. Most of us cannot
recognize presence of 17 objects, much less 2417 or 7907 of them. A
mathematician involved at all with number theory would recognize that
these are all prime numbers, but that is hardly a perceptual referent of
the sort we have been discussing. (I am reminded too of the old line:
“Your lucky number is 3552664958674928. Watch for it
everywhere.”)
common: Here’s a nice one! Hardly meaningless. Yet what is the
perceptual referent? It refers to a social artifact, common knowledge.
And oh yes: so have I been, throughout this post. Use of language depends
upon common knowledge, including especially knowledge of conventions. You
must assume that some particular knowledge that you have is also present
in the memory of your interlocutor, or else language is impossible. (The
assumption that what is in my memory is also in yours is nearly
equivalent to placing it in the shared environment.) That body of common
knowledge is always changing and evolving, emergent out of the very
interactions that depend upon it. Every time you divine some bit of my
intention out of what I say, despite the impossibility (due to the
ambiguity and imprecision of language that we have been lamenting) of
mechanically predicting my intention as a necessary consequence of
what I said – every time I nevertheless confirm for you that you have
confirmed for me that you correctly perceive my intention – that mutual
confirmation can add a bit to our common knowledge, yours and mine. If
others are involved as witnesses, or co-affirmers of correctness, or
hearers of a recounting of it by you or by me, etc., then that knowledge
becomes common to more of us. Perhaps not staying quite identical in some
particulars, but sufficiently like in some other person’s memory for them
successfully to reconstruct your intention (in a relevant matter) on
another occasion.

(The confirming can take endless forms – paraphrase, controlling a
particular variable, doing so in a particular way, etc. That’s not the
subject here, but I don’t want to leave it as though unimportant.)

I hope this helps make what I have said more sensible to you.

    /Bruce

Nevin

This is Phil Runkel replying to Bruce Nevin's of 2003.10.15 @ 20:42 EDT.

Now I'm with you. Let me see whether I can summarize (omitting all the
delightful elaborations and examples):

We can reconstruct those squiggly marks on paper into patterns we have
in our memories as language.

We can reconstruct those patterns as being English.

We can reconstruct those English sentences into images of what we might
do or think if we had uttered or written those sentences.

But I should have written "construct" instead of "reconstruct" even
though reconstruction may be the intent of the reader. Our
constructions of language or action may be perceived by the writer as
good reconstructions (as in paraphrasing or obeying orders), but the
reader can only construct. Only the writer can judge the extent of
reconstruction. And of course we use agreed conventions (such as the
knot in the grass) to signal each other what we are up to.

Thanks. --Phil

[From Rick Marken (2003.10.16.0945)]

Bruce Nevin (2003.10.15 20:42 EDT)--

Rick, Bill is correct that your suggestion that I am reducing meaning to "parts
of speech" is off the mark, not a paraphrase at all of what I said. Although it
is a step sort of in the right direction: dependency classes of words (which is
what the "parts of speech" of your high school memory approximate) do indeed
reflect lexical semantics at the grossest level.

OK. This explains what you don't mean by "meaning". What do you mean by meaning?
Maybe it's time to go back to the beginning. Our disagreement about "fairness and
meaning" started about a month ago when you commented on the study of monkeys
apparently controlling for fairness by saying [Bruce Nevin (2003.09.20.2147 EDT)]:

The researchers are suffering from the commonplace confusion, "if there is a
word for it, it must exist." The vocabulary items "fair" and "unfair" exist in
their shared language, and have been used by parents, teachers, and peers all
their lives to label the perceptible effects of reorganization when certain

kinds

of perceptions involving social relationships cannot be controlled, so they
hypostatize (reify) these words as supposed Principle perceptions.

I would like to make sure I understand what you meant here. One thing you might
have meant is: 1) Words do not necessarily point to anything in the real world. If
this is what you meant, then I agree. All we know are our perceptions. So words
can only point to perceptions, not what "actually exists" in the real world.

Another thing you might have meant is: 2) "Fair" and "unfair" are words that refer
to "perceptible effects of reorganization when certain kinds of perceptions
involving social relationships cannot be controlled". If this is what you meant,
then I partially agree. I think "fair" and "unfair" do refer to perceptions
involving social relationships (for example, the relationship between an executive
and an employee in terms of compensation) but the rest of what you say, about
"reorganization" and "failure to control", brings in theoretical constructs that
are not necessarily involved in the perceptions to which the words refer.

Still another thing you might have meant is: 3) people treat words like "fair" and
"unfair" as though the words themselves were principle perceptions. That's one
possible (though somewhat strange) meaning of "reify the words as supposed
principle perceptions". But if that's what you meant, I again agree. To the
extent that people mistake the word itself for the perception to which it points
then that would certainly be a mistake.

The final meaning I get -- and the one that led me to disagree with what you said
-- is: 4) people use words like "fair" and "unfair" to point to principle
perceptions but these words don't really point to these perceptions because the
perceptions themselves don't exist -- they are just "supposed". This, of course,
would raise the hackles of any student of PCT -- at least, those students who are
able to perceive and talk about fairness. I can see now that I may have
misinterpreted your meaning. I think your intended meaning was probably 3): the
word itself is not the perception to which it points. This, of course, is the
basic message of General Semantics, and it's certainly a good one. The word
"fairness" is the "map" that points to, but is not itself, the "territory", which
is the perception of fairness.

Am I understanding you correctly now?

Best regards

Rick

···

--
Richard S. Marken, Ph.D.
Senior Behavioral Scientist
The RAND Corporation
PO Box 2138
1700 Main Street
Santa Monica, CA 90407-2138
Tel: 310-393-0411 x7971
Fax: 310-451-7018
E-mail: rmarken@rand.org

[Bruce Nevin (2003.10.16 13:29 EDT)]

We can reconstruct those squiggly marks on
paper
and all those even more squiggly arrangements of sound
out of our mouths
into patterns we have in our memories as
language.

Much of it is stored in memory: phonemes, morphemes, words, intonation
contours, classes of morphemes and words, syntactic constructions made of
these. Here, too, are conventional reductions: don’t from do
not
, Gilbert and Sullivan wrote reduced from Gilbert wrote
and Sullivan wrote
, or from The {team, set, collaboration, …} of
Gilbert and Sullivan wrote
; I want you to go from I want
that you should go
(which is more explicitly sensible, but awkward
because it flouts convention). Broadly speaking, words that are most
predictable (contribute the least information) are subject to
reduction.

But when we get to the individual word dependencies, there is a creative
element that plays over the conventional structures of language:
metaphor, simile, and the other figures of speech, and simply finding a
way to deposit in the environment linguistic structures from which others
can figure out what you have in mind. Toward the end of his
(2003.10.07.1344 MDT), Bill alluded exactly to this creative engagement
with the meanings in our heads and the conventionally established
linguistic means of making them available to others. He concluded that
post with:

The fact that we know what we want a sentence
to mean before we have even

tried to formulate it tells me that words and sentences do not
“have”

meanings; meanings govern our use of words. Actually, I’m rather
pleased

with the way that sentence turned out, even though I suspect that
you’re

going to argue with it.

Meaning in this sense is precisely not what is in words. Words do
not have meaning in this sense, only people do. We reconstruct the
intended meaning of the speaker or writer on the basis of the information
that is in the language that they placed in the environment for us. The
simplest correlations of the two are referential, like that knotted tuft
of grass.

We can reconstruct those patterns as being
English.

We can reconstruct those English sentences into images of what we
might

do or think if we had uttered or written those sentences.

But I should have written “construct” instead of
“reconstruct” even

though reconstruction may be the intent of the reader.

Reconstruction is the intent of the speaker or writer as well, that is,
they intend that the reader or hearer reconstruct what they have in mind.
A reconstruction is a construction. And usually both parties
actively check for comprehension or more passively control perceptions of
not having comprehended. (Not quite sure how to say that clearly.)

Our

constructions of language or action may be perceived by the writer
as

good reconstructions (as in paraphrasing or obeying orders), but the

reader can only construct. Only the writer can judge the extent
of

reconstruction. And of course we use agreed conventions (such as
the

knot in the grass) to signal each other what we are up
to.

Our words, once they escape our mouths or pass to others on page or
screen, like the knot in the grass once the scout leaves it behind, are
conventionally structured artifacts in the shared environment. Linguistic
structure, because of common knowledge, ‘contains’ information. Language
is a means of error-free transmission of information in a public –
various redundancies protect against error. The reconstruction of
meanings, in the above sense, from the information is of course
not protected from error.

Thanks, Phil. Seems like a good paraphrase.

    /Bruce
···

At 08:25 PM 10/15/2003 -0700, Philip Runkel wrote:

Thanks.
–Phil

[From Bill Powers (2003.10.16.0644 MDT)]

Bruce Nevin (2003.10.15 20:42 EDT)--

If I say that something in the environment has predetermined significance
to the observer, then it follows that this something in the environment
causes or 'governs' certain behavior, and this is mere behaviorism. You
are quite right that I am not advocating any form of behaviorism. So you
are puzzled.

...
Please let me try to explain what I mean.

...

Any passing animal or bird settling from flight might bend the grass, but
the knot is a bit of information: this is a human artifact. The way the
tuft is bent indicates a direction in an analog way, so I suppose it is
more than one bit of information, but it is information nonetheless. After
the scout has moved on, that arrangement of the grass remains behind. For
anyone who knows the convention, that information is in the arrangement.

I don't think this is going to solve the problem of "reifying reality." The
words you used to describe the information in the bent piece of grass do
NOT describe features of the world, but classes of perceptions within which
there is infinite room for variations. How many arrangements of grass
blades would be perceived as a "tuft"? How many arrangements of tufts would
be perceived as "bent?" .And for that matter, what is "grass?" When you
examine the world of experience at the lowest levels, it ceases to be
differentiated at the higher levels. Things lose their unique identities,
so that one patch of green is like any other patch of green, or one color
of brightness is like any other color of brightness. Paradoxically, the
more closely you examine any part of experience, the less "information"
there is in it.

On the basis of that arrangement, the followers reconstruct something like
the perceptions that the scout was controlling: "go in this direction".
Those perceptions are not in the environment, in that arrangement of the
tall prairie grass.

And by the same token, the perception of "arrangement" is not in the
environment, either, nor is the perception of "tall", or "prairie", or
"grass." To create a "pure" HPCT view of the subject under discussion, we
must begin by admitting that we know ONLY perceptions. Even what you call
"environment" is a perception. Human beings communicate by acting on their
own perceptions in a way they hope will have similar effects on the
perceptions of others, and this is true at every level from intensities on
up to system concepts. To leave some things in "the environment" is to draw
an arbitrary line separating things outside us that we know directly from
things we know only as perceptions. But there is nothing that we can know
directly, so there is no place to draw that line.

If we do draw a line, it is for convenience only, just as the engineer
separates his model of the environment from his model of a system that
exists in and interacts with that environment.

The knotted and bent tuft of grass does not cause any behavior. But it is
an artifact of perceptual control by one person that is placed in the
environment where it can be used as a means for another person to control
a perception of the first person's intention.

Remember the PCT definition of "control." A is said to control B if and
only if a disturbance of B results in a nearly equal and opposite change in
the effect of A on B. In short, if B is altered, A acts to restore B to its
original condition, or simnply opposes the change before it becomes
significant. So do you really mean that if the other person's perception of
the first person's intention is disturbed, the other person will act to
restore that perception to its original condition? That doesn't seem to fit
your use of "control" above.

I think we have to reflect on Martin Taylor's concept of nested protocols
in communication. At _every level_, the act of communication involves one
person doing something that alters his own, and presumably someone else's,
perceptions. At _every level_ it is necessary for perceptual input
functions to exist which convert perceptions of lower levels into
perceptions of higher levels, and this must happen in both sender and receiver.

To this I add the fact that transformations from level to level are
_many-to-one_,meaning that there is a very large range of variation at one
level which will leave a given perception at the next higher level
unchanged. I can bend any number of fibers from many kinds of plants over a
range of directions in a large variety of bendings, and you will still
perceive an indicator of the left branch of the path rather than the right,
if you are organized to perceive such things. The same arrangements may
mean nothing to a snake, or a bird, not because a different message is
conveyed, but because a different receiver is involved.

That is how language works. By certain features we recognize "Oh, this is
speech, and not just noise of some kind," and we recognize further "This
is English speech." This is analogous to the knot in the grass. We
recognize that these sounds or these marks are an artifact of perceptual
control by a human being, which is purposefully so structured that we can
reconstruct the intention of the speaker or writer, and placed in the
environment so that we may do so. The structure in this artifact is
information that has been placed in the environment by the speaker or writer.

After my comments above, do you still believe this? What you're doing, in
effect, is exempting certain observations from the general principle that
"it's all perception." You're implying that the "structure" in the
"artifacts" is really there in the environment, leading to reconstructed
perceptions which are not in the environment.

But what happens to this line of argument if you acknowledge that
even the "structure" is a perception, having existence only for such
organisms as possess the correct kinds of input functions, and are capable
of understanding that this particular perceptual signal would not be there
unless some other entity had done something to the (hypothetical) common
environment?

I'm obviously not going to insist on this level of purity in discussing any
system or environment; it would probably be paralyzing to do so. But I
think we must agree, behind the scenes, on what the actual HPCT picture is.

Structure, form, information. Not all structure is so informative. The
critical ingredient is that the structure, and its relationship to other
controlled perceptions, must be conventional, and the convention must be
pre-established in both participants, both the one placing it in the
environment, and the one encountering it and reconstructing the intent of
the other. Without that pre-set convention, we have Nasrudin and the
foreign priest 'conversing' with finger gestures, the priest's profound
and subtle interpretations contrasting comically with the Mullah's rather
more earthy story.

I haven't heard that one! Sounds wonderful.

Anyhow, you're flirting with the ideas I describe, but I think it's simply
a mistake to speak of structure, form, and information in language in this
way. An engineer can get away with speaking of such things because he knows
everything about the machine that will interact with the environment, and
he can define these aspects of the environment in a way that is independent
of the receiver. But you're describing the receiver, not the environment.
Any arrangement of the environment that impresses us as having a certain
form will be perceived as that form, even though the physical world could
be arranged in a gloogleplex of different ways while we perceive the same
thing. You can't explain why we perceive a given form by examining the
environment, unless you happen to be examining it through a very similar
receiver. You certainly can't EXPLAIN why we perceive a form by reference
only to features of the environment. The real explanation lies in the
receiver, not the environment.

The difficulty -- and here is one point of such Mullah Nasrudin stories --
is that we are limited to what may be conventionally indicated. The scout
cannot say "watch out for rattlesnakes" with grass-tuft signs, or "travel
quietly and see if you can bag something for dinner along the way". This
is the main reason for the approximateness and ambiguity of language with
which you (2003.10.08.0839 MDT) expressed such dissatisfaction. The
information in language is not the same as the perceptions that you
reconstruct from it, nor those that the speaker or writer intended you to
reconstruct.

Ah, we get closer to the real issue. I think. What this leaves out is the
necessity for each person to _learn_ the significance of these signs. The
fact that a sign "has" a conventional meaning is irrelevant until someone
_learns_ that meaning -- is told it, or figures it out by observation of
how other people act in its presence. And, I must not omit to mention,
_adopts_ that significance for himherself. Furthermore (this could go on
for quite a while), what is understood by the sign is subject to great
variation without detailed and explicit communication. I could sight along
the bent tuft of grass, and think "That's strange, he seems to want me to
veer about 10 degrees off this path and strike out through the jungle,"
when the intent was merely to indicate _this_ path and not the other.

This information is, nevertheless, an important part of the meaning of
language: the linguistic information.

I'm not convinced. The structure of the signs is a perception, not an
objective structure. If I see an "A" with the lines not quite joined at the
top as an "H", I will read "HIN'T" instead of "AIN'T". I can display an A
on my computer screen in about 100 different fonts, yet my A-perceiver will
see no difference that makes a difference. I think you are confusing means
with ends. _Anything_ that leads to my perception of an H will suffice, if
H is what you want us both to perceive. What you call the "linguistic"
information is simply a collection of lower-level perceptions. That's what
I'm getting out of this so far.

Darn, I'm pressed for time and can't end this properly. Your turn, anyway.

Best,

Bill P.

[From Bruce Nevin (2003.10.22 23:00 EDT)]

Again, my apology for the extremely long delays in my responses. I hope
there aren’t too many words here that I should have thrown away, I have
only got to this today and don’t want to delay longer.

Bill Powers (2003.10.16.0644 MDT)–
[…]

I don’t think this is going to solve the
problem of “reifying reality.” The

words you used to describe the information in the bent piece of grass
do

NOT describe features of the world, but classes of perceptions within
which

there is infinite room for variations.

[…] To leave some things in “the environment” is to draw

an arbitrary line separating things outside us that we know directly
from

things we know only as perceptions. But there is nothing that we can
know

directly, so there is no place to draw that line.

If we do draw a line, it is for convenience only, just as the
engineer

separates his model of the environment from his model of a system
that

exists in and interacts with that environment.

What I am saying does not entail that I have to ‘reify reality’ or claim
special direct knowledge of the environment that somehow bypasses
perception.

Here’s a scenario. I control a perception of certain words appearing on
the screen in front of me in a certain structured way. Let’s say I write
this:

Linguistic structure is in our shared

environment.

I’ll assume you agree that I control perceptions of structure in this,
e.g. the words must come in that particular order to be an English
sentence, and this particular sentence. The input functions, references,
and output functions for my control of these perceptions accord with
conventions established as common knowledge among users of the English
language. In the course of learning those conventions I have become so
organized as to control these perceptions by means of various behavioral
outputs, in this case typing.

You, then, having also learned the common-knowledge conventions of
English, have become so organized as to construct the same structure out
of your perceptual inputs from your environment (a shared environment
thanks to the Internet). Recognizing that structure (which you have
created, but which you perceive to be the words, etc. that I have put in
the environment), and remembering common knowledge conventions as to what
intentions one has when producing such a structure, you ‘read’ in it a
perception of my intentions; in particular, a perception of meanings that
you perceive that I intended you to understand from it. But you also
infer meanings that I did not intend. You say:

 You're asserting that you have direct knowledge

of the

 environment, bypassing perception.

This is an inference that you have constructed. But you could not have
done so without first understanding what is directly said in my
sentence:

Linguistic structure is in our shared

environment.

I did not say how I arrived at that conclusion; you inferred that I must
be claiming to have arrived at it by some sort of direct apprehension of
the environment. What I intended (but did not say) was that I arrived at
that conclusion about the environment in the same way that we arrive at
any conclusions about reality: by inference.

What I am saying in the present post is that this inference follows
necessarily from the fact that you construct the same complexly
structured perceptions that I do (namely, the above sentence, prior to
any inferences from it), and that your only basis for doing so is the
effects of my control actions on your environment. There is no other
channel by which that information can get from my brain to yours.

Remember the PCT definition of
“control.” A is said to control B if and

only if a disturbance of B results in a nearly equal and opposite change
in

the effect of A on B. In short, if B is altered, A acts to restore B to
its

original condition, or simnply opposes the change before it becomes

significant. So do you really mean that if the other person’s perception
of

the first person’s intention is disturbed, the other person will act
to

restore that perception to its original condition?

In the scenario I outlined above, if I perceive that you are acting in a
way that is not consistent with your understanding as I intended you to,
then I do indeed act to resist that disturbance. The scout is miles away,
but if he comes back and finds them off course I bet he’ll give them a
refresher course in trail markings, or act in some other way (consistent
with that amount of delay in the loop) so as to resist the disturbance to
his control of their perception of his intention. Yes, I do mean exactly
that. In speech or writing, the loop is more quickly closed. In the
present instance, my control actions take the form of my saying the same
thing yet again, but in a different way, and heading off an inference
that I had not foreseen.

That doesn’t seem to fit your use of
“control” above.

In what way does it not fit?

I think we have to reflect on Martin Taylor’s
concept of nested protocols

in communication. At every level, the act of communication involves
one

person doing something that alters his own, and presumably someone
else’s,

perceptions. At every level it is necessary for perceptual input

functions to exist which convert perceptions of lower levels into

perceptions of higher levels, and this must happen in both sender and
receiver.

Yes. I see no contradiction.

To this I add the fact that transformations
from level to level are

many-to-one, meaning that there is a very large range of variation at
one

level which will leave a given perception at the next higher level

unchanged. I can bend any number of fibers from many kinds of plants over
a

range of directions in a large variety of bendings, and you will
still

perceive an indicator of the left branch of the path rather than the
right,

if you are organized to perceive such things. The same arrangements
may

mean nothing to a snake, or a bird, not because a different message
is

conveyed, but because a different receiver is involved.

Surely. For a convention be established in a public, the members of that
public must come to be organized to perceive certain inputs in the
conventional ways. (Not that so that they have to, but so that they are
able to.)

That is how
language works. By certain features we recognize "Oh, this is

speech, and not just noise of some kind," and we recognize further
"This

is English speech." This is analogous to the knot in the grass.
We

recognize that these sounds or these marks are an artifact of
perceptual

control by a human being, which is purposefully so structured that we
can

reconstruct the intention of the speaker or writer, and placed in
the

environment so that we may do so. The structure in this artifact is

information that has been placed in the environment by the speaker or
writer.

After my comments above, do you still believe this?

Yes.

What you’re doing, in

effect, is exempting certain observations from the general principle
that

“it’s all perception.”

Not at all. But that slogan must not be carried so far as to deny that
there is a reality.

You’re implying that the “structure”
in the

“artifacts” is really there in the environment, leading to
reconstructed

perceptions which are not in the environment.

I can only hypothesize about what must really be in the
environment, of course.
We do not know anything about the environment other than our perceptions,
but we do presume, with justification, that there is something there and
that our perceptions have some sort of correlation with it that is stable
enough for intersubjective agreement to be reliable.
I control my perception of marks on the screen being structured in a
certain way. I am confident that, whatever those marks ‘actually’ are in
your proximal environment, you will perceive them as being structured in
the same way that I do. This s is the letter s, this string of six
letters shared is the word shared, and so on up the layers of Martin’s
protocol analogy. At the level of story construction and argumentation
the structures get fairly complex. I may overlook some ambiguity, so that
you perceive some line of argument that I do not intend, and I certainly
cannot be aware of all the meanings that you invest in those structures
and all the inferences that you make based on your proper perception of
the sentence itself. But I am controlling my perception of your
perception of the meanings that I am trying to indicate by means of these
words. When you impute some meaning that I do not intend, or when I
perceive that what you reply is not a paraphrase of what I said, etc.
(imagine here appropriate, complicated HPCT circumlocutions saying the
same things in more precise terms unless you really insist that I
prove my bona fides in the most excruciatingly boring way), those are
disturbances to my control of my perception of your perception … etc.
… which I act to resist by saying the same thing yet again, but in a
different way, and resisting in various ways inferences that I did not
intend.

But what happens to this line of argument if
you acknowledge that

even the “structure” is a perception, having existence only for
such

organisms as possess the correct kinds of input functions, and are
capable

of understanding that this particular perceptual signal would not be
there

unless some other entity had done something to the (hypothetical)
common

environment?

Sorry, I don’t take the environment itself to be hypothetical. It is the
character of the environment, ‘beyond’ our perceptions of it, that
is hypothetical. I don’t question the existence of reality. And I
don’t believe you do either.
All that we know of the environment is the perceptions that we construct.
But I assume (and I believe that you assume) that those perceptions are
not entirely baseless.
In particular, people don’t need any sort of direct knowledge of the
environment (bypassing perception) in order to establish a social
convention. To learn that s is the letter s we don’t need proof that
something is constant in the actual Ding an sich environment
across all occurrences of the letter s, nor do we need to know that your
perception of the shape s is the identical experience for you as my
perception of the shape s is for me. I think all we need to know is that,
in operational terms, if I place the shape s before you, you will
recognize the letter s, and vice versa. (To be sure, this must be in
circumstances where you can reasonably be expected to be actively
controlling recognition of letters, i.e. probably not if I place a
garment in front of you, and the folds of cloth happen to take the shape
of the letter s.) Probably there’s a better way to put that, but there’s
no doubt about the existence of socially established conventions, and I
think we even have a pretty good idea how they get established.

If I see an “A” with the lines not
quite joined at the

top as an “H”, I will read “HIN’T” instead of
“AIN’T”.

Sure, there is potential for ambiguity at every level. The various kinds
of redundancy in linguistic structure resolve ambiguities that a simple
convention of marking trails with grass cannot resolve. We just recently
had a brief discussion of that (the passages using words with scrambled
letters). Glietman’s experimental work provides more subtle
examples.

I’m obviously not going to insist on this
level of purity in discussing any

system or environment; it would probably be paralyzing to do so. But
I

think we must agree, behind the scenes, on what the actual HPCT picture
is.

I think we do. Do you still doubt it?

Anyhow, you’re flirting with the ideas I
describe, but I think it’s simply

a mistake to speak of structure, form, and information in language in
this

way.

The reference perceptions for controlling by means of language are
conventional, that is, they are learned and maintained in such a way that
the users of the language know that other users of that language control
according to the same references.

(There’s some wiggle room for accommodating different dialects; the basis
for that is the same systemic redundancies that I mentioned earlier. For
example, having perceived the intended word on the basis of its context,
the hearer may adjust the lower-level references for recognizing the
phonemes in the word as pronounced by that person, making it easier to
recognize other words subsequently spoken.)

An engineer can get away with speaking of such
things because he knows

everything about the machine that will interact with the environment,
and

he can define these aspects of the environment in a way that is
independent

of the receiver. But you’re describing the receiver, not the
environment.

Any arrangement of the environment that impresses us as having a
certain

form will be perceived as that form, even though the physical world
could

be arranged in a gloogleplex of different ways while we perceive the
same

thing. You can’t explain why we perceive a given form by examining
the

environment, unless you happen to be examining it through a very
similar

receiver. You certainly can’t EXPLAIN why we perceive a form by
reference

only to features of the environment. The real explanation lies in
the

receiver, not the environment.

I’m not trying to explain what is really in the
environment, such that other people who hear me speak perceive the same
words. Whatever it is that my control actions have done to the
environment, such that I hear myself speaking those words, those actions
have structured the environment so that each of those people,
independently perceiving in that environment, independently constructs
perceptions of those very same words (modulo disturbances). I don’t have
to know what that structure is really in the real, Ding
an sich environment
. Nor do I claim to know that. But I do claim that
my control actions have a real effect on that real environment. That
effect is the basis on which any number of English speakers listening to
me construct the same word-perceptions that I had as I spoke. Some sort
of transform of the structures that I perceive must really be out there
in that real environment, there being no other basis for them
independently to construct the same structures in their perceptions.
Let’s review:
The structure that we know about from the speaker’s point of view is in
the speaker’s perceptions, constructed by the speaker.
The structure that we know about from the hearer’s point of view is in
the hearer’s perceptions, constructed by the hearer.
The fact that this is the same structure, and intentionally so,
making use of social conventions to make it so, tells us that some
transform of this structure is present in the environment. There is no
other basis from which the hearer may construct the same structure
as the speaker did.
This may be easier to see if you consider additional time delay. Record
the speech. Let the hearer listen to it after an arbitrary delay, with
the speaker no longer present. Some transform of the structure is present
in the recording – that is, in the physical medium, whatever that may
really be, with the effects of the speech upon it, whatever those
effects may really be. (We don’t care what they really are,
we infer that they must be there.) It must be a transform of the
structure in the perceptions controlled by the speaker, else how could
the hearer construct from it her own perceptions of the identical
structure?

A transform of a structure is itself a structure.

Put the other way around, sure, it is possible to construct perceptions
of structure in artifacts in the environment which on closer (perceptual)
examination turn out not to be structured in that way. Illusions abound.
But to have a speaker perceive structure of such complexity and
interlocking redundancy (evolving through time, emergent from social
interaction, and all the rest of it), and subsequently to have hearers
independently perceive the very same structure in the environmental
effects of the speaker’s control actions – well, that’s asking an
incredible lot from simple perceptual illusions on the order of
perceiving a triangle where the lines don’t actually meet in the corners.
Incredible, of course, means not believable, and I, for one, don’t
believe it. If you believe it, please explain the reliability of these
shared hallucinations.

Ah, we get closer to the real issue. I think.
What this leaves out is the

necessity for each person to learn the significance of these signs.

I’m sorry I seemed to leave that out. I certainly meant to put it in, and
I have sought to emphasize it here. How else could conventions be
established?

What you call the “linguistic”

information is simply a collection of lower-level perceptions. That’s
what

I’m getting out of this so far.

There is something really in the environment. All we know of it is the
perceptions that we construct. But we are assured of its existence by the
intersubjective agreements that enable social conventions to emerge. We
depend upon socially established conventions, especially those for
language, to attain and communicate more complex agreements (and
disagreements).

    /Bruce
···

At 08:00 AM 10/17/2003 -0600, Bill Powers wrote

[From Bruce Nevin (2003.10.23 14:59 EDT)]

My apology, Rick, for the very long delay in replying!

Rick Marken (2003.10.16.0945)–

Bruce Nevin (2003.10.15 20:42 EDT)–

Bruce Nevin (2003.09.20.2147 EDT)]:

The researchers are suffering from the commonplace confusion,
"if

there is a word for it, it must exist." The vocabulary items
“fair”

and “unfair” exist in their shared language, and have been
used by

parents, teachers, and peers all their lives to label the
perceptible

effects of reorganization when certain kindsof perceptions involving

social relationships cannot be controlled, so they hypostatize
(reify)

these words as supposed Principle perceptions.

I would like to make sure I understand what you meant here. One
thing you might

have meant is: 1) Words do not necessarily point to anything in the real
world. If

this is what you meant, then I agree. All we know are our perceptions. So
words

can only point to perceptions, not what “actually exists” in
the real world.

Then that way of putting it requires a stronger statement: omitting
“necessarily”, it should say “Words do not point to
anything in the real world.”
Words of course do not point at all, people use them to refer, and the
basis for doing that is the subject of my exchange with Bill: creating
the information in an utterance (its structure), perceiving a physical
transform of that structure, re-creating that structure as the perception
of a heard utterance. On either side of this matter of linguistic
information, both speaker and hearer associate other perceptions with the
formal structures of language. The latter are what you intend when you
say “meaning”; the former is another aspect of meaning that I
have been enjoining you not to omit. Language presents a rather
restrictive channel for talking about the infinite variety of
perceptions.
But another way of putting your (1), which is I believe what Bill had in
mind, and is certainly what others over time have had in mind, is that
for many words it is difficult to pin down any specific perceptions that
are reliably associated with them as their referents. What are the
referents of the verb get, for example, or the preposition
up. (You can look them up from the time you get up in the morning
up to the time get to bed, it’s up to you, but you may may use up your
dictionaries and still that core referent plays hard to get – get it?)
This is because we associate perceptions with whole phrases and
sentences, and with even larger constructions.

Another thing you might have meant is: 2)
“Fair” and “unfair” are words that refer

to "perceptible effects of reorganization when certain kinds
of perceptions

involving social relationships cannot be controlled". If this
is what you meant,

then I partially agree. I think “fair” and “unfair”
do refer to perceptions

involving social relationships (for example, the relationship between an
executive

and an employee in terms of compensation) but the rest of what you say,
about

“reorganization” and “failure to control”, brings in
theoretical constructs that

are not necessarily involved in the perceptions to which the words
refer.

For the user of the words, it brings in only those perceptions. In our
discussion here we can bring in these theoretical constructs as a way of
explaining those perceptions.

Still another thing you might have meant is:
3) people treat words like “fair” and

“unfair” as though the words themselves were principle
perceptions. That’s one

possible (though somewhat strange) meaning of "reify the words as
supposed

principle perceptions". But if that’s what you meant, I again
agree. To the

extent that people mistake the word itself for the perception to which it
points

then that would certainly be a mistake.

No, I’m not saying that people take the word for the perception. That
surely would be a mistake, but, like you, I’m having a hard time
imagining anyone making it.

I’m saying that the only evidence presented so far in this thread for the
existence of a Principle perception with which we associate these words
is the words themselves. The fact that people use these words to talk
about certain perceptions, even if they also say that these are or refer
to guiding principles, does not prove that the perceptions referred to
are on the Principle level of the hierarchy.

The final meaning I get – and the one that
led me to disagree with what you said

– is: 4) people use words like “fair” and “unfair”
to point to principle

perceptions but these words don’t really point to these perceptions
because the

perceptions themselves don’t exist – they are just “supposed”.

Perhaps this is more clear now. The perceptions have not been
demonstrated to exist on the Principle level of the hierarchy. So far,
the only perceptions that have been discussed are at lower levels,
primarily at the relationship level.

Am I understanding you correctly
now?

I think we’re making good progress. Thanks for the effort. And again, my
apology for the long delay replying.

    /Bruce

Nevin

···

At 09:46 AM 10/16/2003 -0400, Richard Marken wrote:

[From Bruce Nevin (2003.10.24 09:13 EDT)]

I see that my cross-references to latter and former are unclear.

Bruce Nevin (2003.10.23 14:59 EDT)--

On either side of this matter of linguistic information, both speaker and hearer associate other perceptions with the formal structures of language. The latter

that is, the nonlinguistic perceptions that we may associate with them

are what you intend when you say "meaning"; the former

that is, linguistic information in the formal structures of language

is another aspect of meaning that I have been enjoining you not to omit. Language presents a rather restrictive channel for talking about the infinite variety of perceptions.

These matters are discussed more carefully and at greater length in my (2003.10.22 23:00 EDT) reply to Bill.

         /Bruce

···

At 02:59 PM 10/23/2003 -0400, Bruce Nevin wrote: