I.
Theory and practice
1.
In broad terms, theory is how matters get represented, whereas practice
is how matters
get
done. The relations between theory
and practice
could
logically
be
a genuine dialectic,
defined
here as
a dynamic cycle between two
processes guiding each
other
along.
The
practice is theory-
driven, and the theory is practice-driven; the theory envisions and
expounds the practice; and the practice

specifies and implements the
theory (Fig.
1). The output from theory is top- down, whilst the
output
from
practice is bottom-up.
The more ‘theoretical’
the operation, the more steady and and precise the ‘practical’ guidance
needs to be.2. However, in several scenarios the dialectic goes out of
alignment. In one, theory runs ahead of practice, e.g., devising abstract
plans and goals from the top down without concrete methods to implement them
from the bottom up. So you proceed with partial approximations of a practice:
reasoning from previous experience with similar practices, and trying to adapt
and implement ones that worked before. The practice can undergo ‘tuning’ and
become steadily more effective as the practice catches up with the theory.
3.
In the converse scenario, practice runs ahead of theory, e.g., engaging
in sundry activities with no sound conception of plans and goals. Here, you
proceed on partial approximations of a theory, reasoning from
previous knowledge of similar theories, and trying to rethink them for new
situations. The theory can undergo
tuning and become steadily
more rational as it catches up with the practice.
4.
In a more radical scenario, theory runs away from practice, e.g.,
‘theorizing’ from the top down and disregarding practical consequences or
applications. Theorizing
becomes
its
own
goal,
and
‘theoreticians’
claim
an
independent
and superior authority over
‘practitioners’ handling practical matters (I.23, 34; II.187). A theory may
indeed be valued precisely for its distance from practice.
5.
In the converse radical scenario, practice runs away from theory, e.g.,
using methods that baldly ignore or contradict the professed theory. You invoke
a false theory which presents you in a favourable perspective, and disclaim
responsibility for your true and unfavourable actions.
6.
In the first pair of scenarios, you retain the potential to make theory and
practice converge, as when a novice gradually becomes a veritable expert. In
many domains, however, a total convergence of theory with practice could only be
a state of utopia — an ultimate, unreachable goal. To keep proceeding
toward the goal, heartened rather than daunted by the unlimited space for
progress, is a hopeful utopia; to abandon your search for the goal in
despair is a hopeless utopia.1 Unhappily, the ‘hopeful
utopian’ is far more easily transformed into a hopeless one — switching from
selfless to selfish, from idealist to cynic, from benefactor to exploiter, from
liberator to tyrant — than vice-versa.
7.
But in the more radical pair of scenarios, theory and practice cannot converge.
Instead, an official theory is publicly declared but does not guide
practice, whereas an operational theory is not publicly declared or is
flatly denied but does guide practice. In parallel, official practice is
spuriously claimed to be what gets done, whilst operational practice truly
gets done but does not get admitted.
8. The present Introduction will be building on the basic terms and concepts just proposed, using a method we might call concentric frames, working inward from general to specific, or outward from specific to general (Fig. 2a-b). Theory and practice constitute the outermost frame; then theory and practice in society; then theory and practice in some institution of society, such as education or science; and finally at the centre, theory and practice in some specific concern of that institution, such as language education or language science.

Each
issue is thus situated within concentric contexts, e .g., how a society based on
inclusive theory but exclusive practice sustains a corresponding contradiction
in science and education despite well-intentioned projects for inclusion.
Recovering a genuine dialectic requires making explicit both the
‘theoreticalness’ of human practices and the ‘practicality’ of human
theories.
I.A.
Theory and practice in society
9.
Democracy, the currently dominant official theory of the state,
envisions, in abstract terms, universal inclusion and equality for every
citizen, and calls for such institutions as free elections and universal
education as the operational means. In return, the practices of such
institutions specify, in concrete terms, how to implement inclusion and
equality, e.g., by conducting voter registration at election time or standard
examinations at the end of school terms. A total convergence of theory with
practice in a democracy would be perhaps the most obvious utopia. But a
‘democracy’ truly merits the name only as a hopeful utopia that vigorously
promotes its theory in its practices, e.g., by means of ‘equal rights
legislation’ and ‘equal opportunity employment’. A society that
endemically restricts the human rights of women or minorities cannot be a
‘democracy’, no matter how loudly it calls itself so and no matter how many
elections and school exams it can boast.
10.
The agenda of ecologism upholds genuine democracy through a dialectical
convergence between inclusive theories and inclusive practices that promotes the
expansion of human potential. We can accordingly define social progress
as inclusive practice converging with inclusive theory, versus social regress
s as exclusive practice diverging
from
inclusive theory (Fig.3).2

By
these terms, many events or processes labelled ‘progress’ in public
discourse do not qualify, such as the ‘economic progress’ benefiting only
the top classes of society and neglecting the rest (cf. I.23f; VII.1;
VIII.51-54).
11.
Four factors
could
be described in
corresponding terms. In the
factor of social roles, inclusion
produces
insiders
in a group, whereas
exclusion produces outsiders (Fig. 4). People can
naturally
. 
occupy
both roles as insiders for some groups and outsiders or others. The vital question
for ecologism is how these roles can strengthen equality and respect for human
rights through the mutual treatment of insiders and outsiders.
12. In the factor of human interaction, solidarity interacts outward on equal levels amongst insiders, whereas power interacts downward on unequal levels against outsiders. Inclusion in a power group can empower the insiders and disempower the outsiders. Whereas solidarity is a restful state promoting human rights and drawing people into supportive co-operation, power is a restless state demoting human rights and impelling people into divisive conflicts, typically over money and property

(Fig.
5). The ecological practice for a power group would be to empower outsiders and
resolve conflicts — and not, as commonly occurs, to exploit and foment.
13. In the factor of human potential, actualisation frees you to realise and build your potential in meaningful activities selected by your own free inclination, whereas alienation limits your potential to meaningless activities dictated by others (Fig. 6).3

Becoming
alienated and disempowered is an inner ‘regress’ that excludes steadily more
aspects of your human potential, thus engendering and aggravating inner
conflicts among the perpetrators who alienate and the victims who get alienated,
and maybe culminating in violence (cf. I.18, 38).
14.
The counterpart term ‘actualisation’ is far less familiar, no doubt being
rarer in ‘modern’ societies. Becoming actualized and empowered is inner
‘progress’ that includes steadily more aspects of your human potential, and
thus reconciles inner conflicts and promotes mutual respect. Ecologism holds
that actualisation should be recognised as an essential human right for
democracy to advance, especially in adapting the design of its educational
systems to reflect more progressive insights on such concepts as
‘intelligence’ (cf. I.57ff, 74).
15. In the factor of ideology, defined here neutrally as a framework of ideas that legitimise what is ‘natural’, ‘normal’, ‘proper’, and legitimise what is not,4 a left-wing ideology holds that human rights are inclusive and equal in theory, even though, short of utopia (in the sense of I.6), social conditions create exclusions and inequalities in practice. The borders between insiders and outsiders should be attenuated; conflicts should be reconciled; and the empowerment for actualisation should be actively nurtured. Social progress (in the inclusive sense of I.10) is a sound investment, and constitutes a significant duty of the state and its institutions, as professed for instance by the ideology of ‘socialism’.
16.
A right-wing ideology holds that human rights must be exclusive and
unequal in both theory and practice, in exact proportion to each individual’s
share of wealth and power, no matter how these were acquired. The borders
between insiders and outsiders should be accentuated to keep people in their
‘proper places’; conflicts should be ‘manfully fought’ until ‘victory
or death’ to ensure the ‘survival of the fittest’; those who prove
‘unfit’ are wholly to blame for any disempowerment and alienation they
suffer. Social progress is a reckless experiment, and constitutes an
irresponsible intrusion of the state, as professed for instance by the
ideologies of the ‘free market’
and ‘social Darwinism’.
17.
The social practices legitimised by left-wing theories are predictably
‘illegitimised’ by right-wing theories, and vice versa; when political power
shifts sides, social policies may get abolished or reversed. The right speaks
for the economic top (the rich and powerful ‘elites’), and the left speaks
for the economic bottom (the ‘working masses’) (VII.1). A different
opposition pervades their cognitive and discursive styles. Left-wing theory is
complex and intellectual, and respects multiple viewpoints, with the unhappy
side-effects of talking over the heads of the masses and of dividing its own
practitioners into clans and factions who debate and dispute when they should
unite against challenges from the right. The left argues for resolving social
and economic problems and helping
the victims — those without homes or jobs, or in jail — because the social
order is unjust in alienating human
potential; but their arguments are frankly complicated.
18.
In contrast, right-wing
theory is simplistic and anti-intellectual, and respects only its own viewpoint,
thus uniting its adherents into a single faction (or ‘klan’) to attack and
silence its immense gallery of ‘enemies’ (cf. VII.27ff). The right advocates
blaming social and economic problems on scapegoats who are ceaselessly accused
of an evil conspiracy to destroy the sacred values of family, home, and homeland
— intellectuals, artists, minorities, gays, immigrants, foreigners, and now
Muslims. The right blames the victims of social problems,5 saying they richly
deserve their sufferings, whereas the social order is just; and the arguments
are frankly simple-minded.
Indeed, the right converts victims into perpetrators6 — scroungers,
anarchists, agitators, terrorists, etc. etc. — and hence into legitimate
targets of spontaneous or state-sponsored violence. The discursive reduction of
human potential thus legitimises the physical reduction (cf. I.38).
19.
Using the four social factors outlined here — with their correlated polarities
between insider and outsider, power and solidarity, alienation and
actualisation, right-wing, and left-wing — we might tentatively describe three
basic stages in social evolution. A pre-modern society (the term
‘traditional’ is too loaded) with a hierarchical organisation (e.g., the
Egypt of the Pharaohs) restricts power to an aristocracy of insiders determined
by static criteria like birth, rank, and class, and sustains an official
right-wing ideology like the divine authority of kings or priests. A few
families control the politics and economy, though their ties may be invidious
and insidious in scheming for power against each other. The economy centres on
slave labour extracted to supply the opulent wants of the elite, such as
ornaments, villas, temples, and palaces, enlisting primitive technology. The
environment is regarded as a reservoir of vast wealth and as a backdrop for
sumptuous rituals that mediate between heaven and earth. Alienation and social
disorders are taboo topics, and their agents or critics get persecuted or
executed.
20.
A pre-modern society with an egalitarian organisation (e.g., the cultures of the
Amazon rainforest) attributes little value to criteria like birth, rank, and
class. Families have the small size the environment can support, and their ties
are strong and durable, e.g., in caring for the young, the aged, and the sick.
The economy centres on communal labour, such as hunting in the wild or
harvesting in the fields. The environment is regarded as an extended home to be
respected and preserved, and perhaps as a home to protective spirits too.
Technology is minimal and serves directly essential needs, such as weapons and
tools. Alienation and social disorders are rare, and their agents get ritually
reintegrated.
21.
A modern society mixes hierarchical and egalitarian modes of organisation,
and relies on dynamic criteria like education, initiative, and enterprise.
Families are smaller than the environment could support and their ties are
weaker and more fragile; care for the young, the aged, and the sick is consigned
to institutions like ‘rest homes’. The grouping of insiders and outsiders,
and the distribution of power, follow the right-wing and left-wing oscillations
of state ideology. The economy organises manual (‘blue-collar’) labour into
large enterprises, and interposes layers of (‘white-collar’) management to
oversee and ‘motivate’ them. In response, labour forms unions to attenuate
the social divide between the ‘working class’ and the ‘middle class’,
and propagates patterns of inclusive consumption of lower-priced commodities
like ‘compact cars’. Unions can also protect jobs during expansions of
technology, as when assembly lines get partially mechanised by robots. The
environment is regarded as a resource for commerce and industry to exploit,
regardless of depletion and pollution. Alienation and social disorders are
common, and their agents get isolated in mental wards or prisons, or dumped on
the streets.
22.
A post-modern society sharpens the tension between hierarchical and
egalitarian modes of organisation. The grouping of insiders and outsiders, and
the distribution of power, are subject to abrupt and radical changes. Social
diversity flows from multiculturalism and multilingualism, but finds expression
mainly in superficial ‘life styles’ like fashions in pop music, clothing,
and, recently, body-piercing. Few societies have yet seriously faced the
diversity by reaffirming equality in human rights, and many quietly or openly
seek to deny or repress it, e.g., by drastically restricting immigration. The
operational theory of ‘democracy’ juggernauts off to the far right as whole
governments and national economies fall under the power of immense multinational
banks and corporations. Labour and capital are ‘globalised’ as these power
groups circle the planet on the trail of ‘favourable conditions’, which, in
the discourse of corporate cynicism, means government incentives, privatisations,
abysmal wages, hazardous working conditions, and an absence of labour unions,
public health care, environmental safeguards, and (above all) taxes (II.119ff).
Workers see their buying power melt away, and much of the middle class sinks
down into the ‘working poor’, who are redundant and irrelevant as consumers
when the economy shifts over to the exclusive consumption of high-priced
commodities like ‘luxury cars’. Families are pressured to reassume social
burdens such as care for the young, the aged, and the sick, whilst the ‘social
safety net’ is legislated away and social services are shut down because taxes
are ‘cut’ and taxable wealth is ‘sheltered’ or ‘moved offshore’. The
natural environment gets intrusive competition from the ‘virtual realities’
where alienation is released by ‘vaporising aliens’. Social disorders grow
intense, swelling the legions of jobless vegetating in overcrowded
prisons or desolate streets.
23.
These basic stages, as described here in theory, can assume a variety of forms
in practice. Egalitarian pre-modern societies sustained a close association
between theoretical and practical knowledge. Modern societies, in contrast, have
proliferated theoretical knowledge apart from practical knowledge, and
elaborately dissociated ‘theoreticians’ from ‘practitioners’ (cf. I.4,
34). Post-modern societies are managed by tiny groups of publicly inaccessible
theoreticians within commerce and technology whose theories and practices equate
‘economic progress’ with rises in executive salaries, stock prices, and
shareholder profits, full stop (cf. I.10).
24.
Such dissociations perfectly suit a society whose official theories are
inclusive and operational practices are exclusive. This unsettling polarity can
line up with those of ‘freedom’ versus domination; of ‘equality’ versus
discrimination; of ‘economic growth’ of the few versus economic shrinkage of
the many; and of ‘peace-keeping’ versus war-mongering. The dissociated
society glibly professes the one and lives by the other, all of which burdens
the social order with a smouldering underside of social disorder that must
eventually erupt (I.32; VII.38).
25.
‘Modernisation’ might be roughly described by the four scenarios in I.2-7. Theory
runs ahead of practice, as when a country abolishing colonialism names
itself a ‘democracy’ but makes no fundamental provisions to guarantee
comprehensive human rights. A new elite supplants the old in battening on the
masses whose lives barely improve. Further social inequalities may mirror
divisions by region (e.g., urban or rural, coast or interior), education (e.g.,
A-level or O-level, tertiary
or
secondary), and profession
(e.g., bureaucrat or farmer, manager or clerk).
26.
In the converse scenario, practice runs ahead of theory, as when new
technologies are introduced with no conception of how they may affect the social
order. They typically generate moneyed ‘technology elites’ whose access to
global communication and information distances them ever further from the
masses.
27.
In a more radical scenario, theory runs away from practice, as when
post-colonial nations pass legislation granting full ‘official’ status to
indigenous languages yet continue to conduct official business and economic
activity in the language of the former ‘colonial masters’.
28.
And in the converse radical scenario, practice runs away from theory, as
when a new ‘democracy’ retains the secret police of the old dictatorship
under a new name like ‘information management bureau’. The operational
practices are secretly augmented to suppress the publicly legalised opposition.
29.
Despite the labels, pre-modernism, modernism, and post-modernism need not form
any uniform or precise historical sequence. Substantial leeway inheres in
assigning a date to the onset of modernism, and, even more, to its presumed
transition into post-modernism. What I am calling ‘modernism’ in hindsight
gradually crystallised from a complex of social, political, economic,
demographic, and technological trends whose timetables differed appreciably
among countries, regions, institutions, or social classes. In the basic
‘Western’ model followed here, these trends generally included migrating
from rural to urban regions; decentralising power; expanding commerce and trade;
raising efficiency in production; forming new specialisations; and
institutionalising national languages. Even these trends have often focused on
fairly specific sectors of society, and encountered entrenched resistance from
sectors who stood to lose through processes of change, notably the centralist
authorities of church and state.
30.
Post-modernism in turn is generally associated with such trends as degrading
urban centres and migrating to suburbs; transferring state power to corporate
power; painfully cutting back social services; globalising commerce and trade;
rationalising production and destroying jobs; concentrating new specializations
in high technology and communication; and expanding English world-wide over
local languages. The focus here has been still more specific, focused on the
economic top, and resistance is difficult mount, let alone consolidate.
31.
By this account, both modernism and post-modernism have been practices running
well ahead of theories; and their retrospective ‘theorisation’ has been
mostly undertaken by academics who are not in control of the trends and, if
neutralised by ‘conservative’ mass media as ‘fringe radicals’
(VII.30ff), exert little impact on public discourse or private practice. Nor are
the vast majority of the world’s citizens, holding no explicit theories at all
of those trends, remotely in control of their own practices. They are easily
misled to equate ‘progress’ with innovative trends (like ‘digital
cameras’ and ‘plasma television’) that are highly exclusive and should
thus count as ‘regress’ in the socially oriented sense of I.10.
32. The new millennium seems destined to endure the full strain of post-modernism being injected into societies that still embody a vertiginous mix of pre-modernism and modernism, so that the term ‘democracy’ for a whole society signifies at best a mosaic and at worst a euphemism. Diverse populations live in dramatically disparate stages of evolution — as in the ‘luxury condo’ with ‘high-tech workstations’ surrounded by hovels without running water or electricity. This mixing gets spread all round the world by globalisation, and threatens to foster explosive breakdowns in communication and interaction, and thus in social cohesion, human responsibility, and democratic principle (Ch. VII).7
33.
The response of ecologism might be to promote a lively dialectic of
deconstruction and reconstruction by analysing discourse to determine
which social practices are implied by the official theory; how they diverge from
the operational practices; and how more inclusive alternatives might help theory
and practice converge for real social progress (I.10; II.182ff). As ecologist
agents, we would also seek convergence between our dual social roles. As theoreticians,
our discourse could expound practice-driven theories for social progress, e.g.,
a theory of text and discourse centred on strategies for enhancing equality (Ch.
VI); and to deconstruct impractical theories unsuited for social progress, e.g.,
a theory of ‘language by itself’ (cf. II.41f). As practitioners, our
discourse could model and implement theory-driven practices to take account of
new discoveries, and to propose future theories, e.g., classroom methods using
new insights into language due to large corpora of authentic data (II.202); and
to deconstruct anti-theoretical practices which ignore new discoveries and shun
contact with theories, e.g., classroom methods preaching purist ‘rules’ far
from authentic usage (II.13f, 18f).
34.
Finally, we might analyse discourse to show how ‘theoreticians’ and
‘practi-tioners’ possess complementary kinds of knowledge, and deconstruct
discourses attributing great knowledge to the former and little to the latter
(I.4, 23). We can retrace the devaluing of practical knowledge from divisive
historical processes of modernisation, specialisation, and education; and show
it to be patently misplaced in a post-modern society whose survival depends on
united initiatives in practical knowledge to protect and restore our human and
natural environment.
I.B.
Language and discourse as theory and practice
35.
Again in the broadest terms, a language is a theory of cognitive
knowledge and social experience (what language users know and live), and discourse
is its practice (how they talk about it),8 both sides
interfacing the linguistic, cognitive, and social domains (cf. II.84, 111, 143).
A text (lower case) would be a communicative event that
contributes to a discourse as a set of mutually relevant texts,
usually a conversation; a Text (upper case) would be a communicative
unit produced by a discursive event and recorded in some prosodic or visual
medium. Any relevant sub-unit, such as a Phrase, Clause, or Paragraph, can be
called a Stretch of Text to remind us where it belongs. Still, the Text
is not just a series of units but rather a tri-modal system that
integrates the sub-systems of Lexicogrammar, Prosody, and Visuality (Chs.
III-V). Thus, a text can deploy not just language, but also tone of voice,
gesture, facial expression, imagery, photographs, cinema, or some combination of
such resources.
36.
Here at least, the dialectic between theory and practice, stated to be
fundamental at the outset (I.1), is well secured. The practices are richly ‘theory-driven’
because discourse draws upon language as a ‘theory’ — or indeed a vast
network of ‘theories’ — for ‘representing’ our ‘world’ and
ourselves, and for constructing alternative states of the world, or even, as in
literary discourse, whole alternative worlds (II.175, 182). Participants must
‘theorise’ extensively about what words mean, what people intend, what makes
sense, and so on. Meanings are especially theoretical entities, like
‘mini-theories’ we can’t prove, though they generally suffice for
practice. We understand each other insofar as our language-theories have a
parallel construction which becomes tuned during discourse. And this tuning
steadily maintains the language in the dynamic process of being both confirmed
and constituted by discursive practices (cf. II.21, 157, 178; VI.3, 10.3).
37.
By this account, discourse is the most theoretical practice humans can
perform, and the most efficient and effective in using the least effort for the
most goals. In return, language is the most practical theory humans can
devise — an unlimited ‘theory of everything’ offering resources to shape
and guide almost any practical activities. Yet language as theory also runs
ahead of discourse as practice by fore-shadowing some further certainty and
precision beyond what is attained on any one occasion. As I shall be showing
later on, a ‘critical’ analysis of a text or discourse regularly uncovers
some uncertainty and imprecision — a natural reflex of the openness of
language for an unlimited range and variety of expressions.
38.
By a similar reasoning, language is the most inclusive theory humans can
devise, and thus the most ‘progressive’ for integrating people as insiders.
The practices of discourse navigate our social relations within the family, peer
group, school, and career. Of course, language can exclude people as outsiders,
but I submit that doing so turns language against its natural potential.
Consider how frankly the discourses of radical exclusion as in racism and
colonialism, reduce and debase the language in order to reduce and debase human
beings with hatespeak smears like ‘scum’, ‘animals’, ‘savages’,
‘niggers’, ‘coolies’,
‘towelheads’, etc. (cf.
VII33ff). Consider too how often a refusal to use language is a glaring act of
exclusion or an ominous prelude to violence, which constitutes the ultimate
reduction of the human potential of both perpetrators and victims (cf. 0.2;
I.13, 18). The essential nature of language, and the fundamental rationale of
its very existence, must be inclusion.
39.
This reasoning leads to a vision of language being our foremost hopeful
utopia with a limitless potential for improving our knowledge and
understanding, and sharing them with an ever wider community. Even the single
text is ‘work in progress’ in the special sense (proposed here) of moving
toward more inclusive theory through more inclusive practice (cf. 0.13; II.134).
The utopian challenge to the sensitive speaker or writer is to sustain a clear
direction of progress throughout the ‘textual work’ of production until the
text is judged sufficiently efficient, effective, and appropriate (cf. II.113).
40. However, inclusion in theory and practice is vitally sensitive to social equality and inequality, as

suggested in Fig. 7.Linguistic
equality could advance
social equality with the theory that all the world’s languages have equal
potential for expressing or communicating relevant any content; none is
definitive- ly superior or inferior. Such is firmly sustained by the official
theory of linguistics (II.38), which has, however, not generated a really
practical programme for social equality through discursive equality.
41. In contrast, linguistic inequality could advance
social inequality with the theory that some languages are definitively
superior and deserve the most respect. Such was long firmly sustained by the
official theory of colonialism, the ideology empowering ‘higher cultures’ to
govern ‘lower cultures’, occupy their territories, and extract their labour
and resources. The indigenous peoples were declared ‘unfit to govern
themselves’, their ‘primitive’ or ‘savage’ languages being unsuited
for ‘expressing civilised ideas’. Forced to communicate with their
‘colonial masters’ on earthy matters, they improvised varieties that came to
be known as ‘pidgins’ and ‘creoles’.9 Even after
independence, these remained the practical media for discursive inequality
between the ‘masses’ and the ‘standard’-speaking ‘elites’
.42.
I would accordingly describe social equality and inequality as the leverage
points deciding whether and whom the dialectic between language as theory and
discourse as practice empowers or disempowers. Yet by an ironic reversal,
inequal-ities in language and discourse are being exploited today as
justifications for social inequality, such as denial of employment.10
Now that other modes of discrimination are prohibited, speakers of
‘inferior’ languages or varieties are routinely disempowered and deprived of
the right to be heard. Should they manage to switch to ‘superior’ ones, they
may find themselves alienated from friends and family.11
43.
Evidently, the official theory of linguistic equality presently fails to guide
practices of discursive equality, whilst operational theory guides practices of
both linguistic and discursive inequality. The ecologist agenda seeks practical
theories of equality to guide practices toward linguistic and discursive
equality. On the ‘theory-side’ of language, we can help to design practical
models for rendering the supposedly superior languages or varieties more
reliably teachable and learnable to promote inclusion in socially strategic
domains of discourse, such as access to new technologies. In parallel, we can
help to design practical models for exploiting the capacities of the supposedly
inferior ones to accommodate those domains, such as technical terminologies,
which should improve public attitudes. On the ‘practice-side’ of discourse,
we can help to map out inclusive strategies which favour social equality and
reconcile inequality, and which deconstruct undemocratic attitudes about
superiority and inferiority.
44.
Expressed in terms of the social factors aired for theory and practice in I.A,
we should explore how strategies of discourse include hearers or readers as
insiders, or exclude them as outsiders, or do both at once, e.g., by addressing
a group of outsiders who aspire to become insiders although only a select few
will be genuinely included, as in higher education (I.49, 55).
45.
Further, we can explore how strategies of discourse either promote solidarity
for joining with others on equal terms; or else promote power for controlling
others on unequal terms; and how such strategies either empower people to
actualise their potential, or else disempower them to be alienated by others. We
may expect solidarity in friendly conversations; empowerment in user-friendly
presentations of special knowledge; and disempowerment in strenuously technical
presentations. Even purporting to objectively ‘speak the truth’ or ‘report
the facts’ can be an unobtrusive and effective move for discursive power.
46.
A key question in our explorations is whether the participants in discourse must
choose between moves of including or excluding, between solidarity or power; or
can remain neutral. Isolated Words or Phrases can seem neutral, but longer and
richer Stretches of Text rarely are, due to the agenda of intentions and the
factor of attitudes.12 Ostensibly neutral discourse may prove to be
camouflaged discourse of power. Still, inclusion and exclusion could be relative
rather than total, and could be intended or accepted to varying degrees in
discourse. Or, those moves could remain largely below our awareness whilst
enacting unequal roles, such as parent and child, employer and employee, master
and servant, landlord and tenant, bureaucrat and citizen.
47.
For its agenda of promoting the solidarity that unites and deconstructing the
power that divides, ecologism can derive its firmest grounds for a hopeful
utopia from the fundamentally inclusive essence of language (I.38f). We are not
bending language and discourse to some private politics or personal philosophy
for our own advantage; indeed, we would probably reap greater material benefits
from dryly ‘academic’ or purely ‘theoretical’ studies. We are merely
progressing toward an ecological ambience where language and discourse are
steadily more empowered to actualise their natural potential for inclusion.
48.
Furthermore, I would argue that many implicit human theories resemble language
in implying a hopeful utopia and endlessly seeking some higher certainty,
finality, or completeness. Science, philosophy, and religion are three
monumental utopian theories for intellectual and spiritual discovery; and
democracy is one for the social order. To widen our chances for improving human
lives, we must strive to acknowledge and revitalise the ‘utopian’ dimensions
of democratic societies as conceived by their founders and articulated in their
constitutions.
I.C.
Theory and practice in ‘modern education’
49.
Among the institutions in a society, education is an eminently cognitive,
social,
and linguistic enterprise.
Yet its authority is served by appearing as a pre- dominantly cognitive enterprise whose linguistic and
social domains are secondary or incidental (cf. I.58, 77; VII.55). In
official theory, education includes all cognitive outsiders who ‘lack
knowledge’ by converting them into cognitive insiders who ‘possess
knowledge’; in operational practice, inclusion is mostly secured for
linguistic insiders whose home language or variety is approved in schooling; and
for social insiders who hail from secure, well-to-do families. The discrepancy
reflects the historical legacy whereby private education for insiders furnished
the enduring model for education at large. The dominant pre-modern methods since
antiquity have featured rote memorisation and repetition of authorised
information, such as ‘classic’ texts — an approach to ‘education’ with
remarkable longevity (I.53, 59f, 64, 74, 108; II.200).
50.
To appraise cognition more precisely, I would propose a key distinction. Knowledge
is more dynamic and integrative. Its content is characteristically
practical, and naturally acquired from lived experiences
and directed intuitions among a cultural community. The operations for storing,
retrieving, and using it are relatively effortless. When not in active
use, it can undergo spontaneous evolution and elaboration in
mental storage and generate more of itself. New knowledge being entered can
reverberate through associated prior knowledge and update its specifications.
Or, old knowledge can be creatively modified and adapted for unfamiliar or novel
applications.
51.
By contrast, information is more static and compartmentalised.
Its content is characteristically theoretical, and consciously
acquired from specialized activities. The operations for storing,
retrieving, and using it are relatively effortful.
When not in active use, it can undergo spontaneous conflation or degradation.
New information being entered is unlikely to be integrated with prior
information unless the mutual associations are expressly constructed. And old
information can be difficult to modify or adapt to unfamiliar or novel
applications.
52.
A pre-modern society is mainly knowledge-based, oriented toward manual
labour and the production of essential commodities in harmony with the environ-ment
(cf. I.19). But as specialisation leads toward the modern society, information
steadily intensifies until the society is mainly information-based, and
information emerges as a commodity for sustaining wealth and power.13
Today, the constant production of information closes the circle by enforcing a
heavy reliance on ‘information technology’, without which you are doomed to
the status of outsider.
53.
The emphasis on memorisation
and repetition in education essentially fosters methods that treat knowledge
as information — static, compartmentalised, theoretical, and consciously acquired. This trend too
has intensified during the evolution of ‘modern education’, so that new
knowledge in the sciences and the arts has, with a routine time lag, been
converted to information for uses in education. The more ‘modern’ the latter
becomes, the greater the volume of information being ‘taught’ which is
distinct from knowledge and is unlikely to become knowledge. Instead, it
degrades over time and becomes inaccessible.
54.
A dualism arises in the relation between the theory and practice of education
itself — what it believes to be doing and what it is doing — and the
relation between the theoretical information it values and the practical
knowledge it devalues. The
official theory of ‘modern education’ is left-wing and functionalist
in its ideology, holding that all learners deserve and receive the ‘same’
chances for success within the ‘same’ curriculum, which equips them all to
be ‘well-informed citizens’ in practical life (but cf. I.58). The schools
should work to ensure success; learners with problems should receive special
help to include them in the process. Yet the operational theory of
modern education is more often right-wing and formalist, holding
that only the ‘superior’ learners merit the ‘benefits of education’,
which should be chiefly academic and theoretical, set apart from practical life.
A wide-ranging scale of success and failure is judged normal and natural, as in
the social Darwinism of ‘survival of the fittest’ (cf. I.16); learners with
problems should be sternly warned or severely punished, and, should they fail to
‘improve’, excluded altogether. As in other domains of society, the practices legitimised by the left are
‘illegitimised’ by the right, and vice versa (I.17); and spiralling
conflicts over matters of policy can stymie any real progress in the system and
thus result in a default victory for the regressive right.
55.
Insofar
as a modern society sustains
inclusive theories but exclusive practices (I.24), education takes on the
split functions of including insiders and excluding outsiders along much the
same lines as society itself. The split drives the operational right-wing theory
known as the hidden curriculum:14 converting selected
outsiders into insiders by a process so difficult and arbitrary as to leave a significant portion of aspiring
learners either included only along the margins or else excluded as life-long
outsiders, whilst representing the process as eminently fair. Flagrantly
undermining the official theory of democracy, the curriculum must be kept
hidden, where it can unobtrusively deflect left-wing
projects to render education more inclusive and democratic.
56.
The hidden curriculum favours practices of testing to yield moderate
rates of high success and low failure, and to place a large contingent in the
middle as ‘average’, which is invidiously interpreted as ‘mediocre’ or
even ‘inadequate’. As
long as a modern society refuses to grant equal merit that entitles equal
benefits in adult life in such areas as employment, wages, or housing, the
schools and colleges are obligated to make children appear unequal at ages when
their human potential is still rudimentary and emergent. A profound
reorientation is demanded:
[4]
Schools [should empower] children whose different talents are developing at
different speeds to have experiences which will boost their confidence and give
them a taste of success — rather than seeing themselves labelled as
comparative failures in the ‘three Rs’, [lest they get] ‘switched off’
education before they even reached secondary school, especially from
‘challenged’ families (Tim Brighouse, in BBC News).
Children
get thoroughly tested and ranked long before they can actualise the linguistic,
cognitive, and social skills that constitute genuine merit in the real world;
and many whom the tests dump at lower ranks become alienated and cease to strive
for such skills, engulfed in a monstrous waste of human potential (I.62):
[5] They are catalogued,
measured and deemed wanting the moment they enter school; they are tested before
they are instructed. The teacher becomes a judge; the class’s standing in
reading and arithmetic is a yardstick of collective failure; and the fear of
inadequacy pervades the classroom, suffocating teacher and pupil alike.15
Even
successful learners may be encouraged by testing to focus on vacuous but easily
testable topics, like doing ‘long division’ or reciting historical dates.
57.
The emphasis on testing strategically rationalises success or failure as products of the merit of the individual learners,
who are confronted with massive information and left to their own devices about
how to absorb it for testing. In one account, merit is decided by your
individual intelligence and aptitude, which you have derived
chiefly from nature or genetics and so cannot really control (VII.51). In the
other account, merit is decided by your diligence and obedience,
which you can and jolly well ought to control. To paper over the patent
incompatibility between the two accounts, schooling might piously assume that
intelligence is the material cause of diligence, or that diligence is the direct
proof of intelligence.
58.
Yet substantial evidence suggests that, barring cases of severe physical or
mental disability, young children entering school are all fairly equal in their
cognitive abilities and potential — their real intelligence and
aptitude. Where they are manifestly not equal is in their linguistic and
social abilities. Camouflaging the hidden curriculum behind an image of fairness
therefore accords with representing education more as a cognitive enterprise
than as a linguistic or social one (I.49). The ‘same’ information gets
presented in the ‘same’ lectures or textbooks to all prospective learners
who do the ‘same’ tasks, tests, and so on (cf. I.54) — all of which might
in reality be experienced as radically different among learners from disparate
linguistic and social backgrounds.
59.
Due to this latent contradiction between sameness and difference, the estimates
of ‘intelligence’ and
‘aptitude’ inferred from rigid, uncreative test-taking skills are more
properly products of schooling than its preconditions.16
The hidden
curriculum requires education not merely to manifest and confirm differences in
‘merit’ (the official theory), but also to devise and entrench them (the
operational theory). Social
uniformity and neutrality are simulated by constructing a special cognitive and linguistic framework remote from
social life. In such schooling, a formalist approach whereby abstract
theoretical information, preferably facts and figures, gets learned for its own
sake with utmost precision, is favoured over a functionalist approach
whereby concrete practical knowledge is learned for its human interest and its
applicability in later life. In parallel, the academic or technical discourse
that is valued above ordinary conversation foments commun-icative bottlenecks
and encourages memorizing and reciting the discourses of lectures or textbooks
without needing to genuinely understand them. Learners are challenged to
assimilate themselves to an artificial sheltered environment, where some will
feel socially unwelcome or displaced. The conventional social values for this
assimilation emphasise courtesy, punctuality, neatness, and cleanliness; the
cognitive values emphasise verbal and mathematical skills; and the linguistic
ones emphasise Standard English with punctilious spelling, punctuation, and
penman-ship. The heavily mainstream middle-class orientation of these values is
tacitly deemed universal and unquestionable, and conspicuous defiance may lead
to denying ‘merit’ and forfeiting the ‘benefits of education’.
60. The emphasis on testing also imbues
the whole system with a negative orientation. Arbitrary theoretical norms or
standards are imposed from the top down to distinguish between ‘right and
wrong answers’. Evaluation routinely assigns an equally arbitrary number of
‘points’ to each answer on the test, and subtracts the ‘lost points’
from the total. Since most modern societies have a decimal mentality, the
standard total is ‘100’, and the ‘grades’ are descending blocks of 10:
‘90-100’ for ‘excellent’, ‘80-89’ for ‘good’, ‘70-79’ for
‘average’, ‘60-69’ for ‘poor’, and ‘59’ and below for complete
‘failure’. Especially when learners didn’t know just what information
would be tested, they recite memorised discourse from textbooks or lectures, or
fudge and guess in hopes of hitting on the ‘right answer’. Yet the
‘grade’ concocted out of these chancy practices is solemnly construed to
reveal how ‘good’ or ‘poor’ the learners themselves are. In effect,
products of alienation undercut the prospects for actualisation (cf. I.13f, 56,
61f, m 68, 82).
61. To produce clear distinctions in merit, tests and problems need to
present substantial difficulties and provide ample opportunities for wrong
answers. In cognitive terms, testing demands not just a
theoretical capacity like ‘intelligence’, but a practical capacity to
operate near the threshold of overload. This condition sets in when the
demands upon physical or mental processing overtax available resources, and
performance enters degradation, notably affecting the rapid and precise recall
of complex information. Learners who do quite well in a relaxed, co-operative,
and actualising environment with the freedom to check and revise their work
might well suffer overload and do quite badly in a high-pressure, isolating, and
alienating environment.
62. And such is just the typical
ambience of the conventional examination, especially a large-scale test
for a whole school term. It is too long and laborious to be done with real
safety or thoroughness in the time allowed; anxieties run high, given the threat
of failing; the test takers are often jaded or exhausted from swotting and
cramming; help from classmates is sternly forbidden, as is the use of even
rudimentary aids, such as dictionaries or pocket computers. Quite plausibly, the
results seriously underestimate real abilities; the test situation shears off or
flattens out potential peaks of success and produces artificially deflated
scores. Yet those same scores are certified to be the best indicators, if not
the only indicators, of the learners’ ‘achievement’, or indeed of
their ‘potential for achievement’. The very examinations treated as the key
to classifying young people as ‘high achievers’ or ‘low achievers’ are
the tools most prone to misrepresent them. The ‘low’ ones can marshal no
effective defence against the alienating image, which they are left to accept
and internalise until they ‘tune out’ or ‘drop out’ —
which, I maintain, betokens a monstrous waste of human potential (I.56).
63. If all learners were
totally equal at the start, a high-pressure testing system running near overload
would produce random results, with ‘merit’ being accorded or denied by pure
chance, like throwing dice. But if learners are equal only in their cognitive
potential, the results will mirror inequalities in their social and linguistic
background (I.70). In official theory, children from the ‘lower classes’ of
society are ‘free to rise up by achieving merit’. In the operational
practice, doing so essentially demands assimilating yourself to mainstream
middle-class culture and language at the risk of being alienated from your home
culture and language (I.42).
64. The precise and detailed quantification of ‘merit’ is managed
through the ‘grading system’, which entails several right-wing
administrative theories abetting the hidden curriculum. The theory of the ‘right
answer’ holds that the every item of ‘school knowledge’ (i.e.,
information) corresponds to a single ‘right answer’ clearly distinguished
from all ‘wrong answers’; and that teachers or test-markers are fully
‘informed’ to judge the distinction. The practice accords undue reverence to
the exact wording of the answers and so to the rote memorisation of educational
discourse — a pre-modern method in a modernist setting (I.49, 53, 59f;
II.200).
65. The theory of the ‘grade average’ holds that fluctuations among
the individ-ual grades of a learner should be balanced out, the low ones
bringing down the high, and the high bringing up the low. This
theory ignores a basic imbalance. A low grade may be merely accidental when
learners are feeling too tired, anxious, or distracted to perform at their true
potential, and so succumb to overload. A high grade, on the contrary, demands
deliberate and concentrated effort and a staunch resistance to overload, and is
therefore a far better indicator of learner’s potential. So when grades are
averaged, minor accidents can cancel out major achievements.
66. The theory of the ‘grade
curve’ holds that the results of a test or assignment should be spread across
a consistent pattern: some ‘high grades’ near the top, some ‘low grades’
near the bottom, and a cluster of ‘average grades’ near the middle (cf.
I.68). In rigorous practice, pretexts may be invented for giving lower grades
than the learners actually earned. When a large portion performs near the top,
their grades may get squeezed and manipulated downward — a travesty of
fairness the learners will readily perceive and resent. And, as I have noted,
being ‘average’ may be taken to mean not ‘normal’ or ‘typical’, but ‘mediocre’
or ‘inadequate’ (I.56).
67. The cycle of right-wing
reasoning is completed by the theory of ‘grade inflation’, holding
that a ‘balanced’ grade curve is natural and necessary; a notable proportion
of high grades thus indicates not the success of learners in performing the
test, but the failure of teachers in not maintaining ‘high standards’ and
‘discipline’. The term ‘inflation’ artfully hints that teachers have
been artificially pumping the grades up to levels not justified by performance.
But the conventional procedures of grading by high-pressure tests under
conditions near overload would actually foster grade deflation by scoring
learners below their real potential (cf. I.69). If so, progressive teaching
methods to support the actualisation of that potential will naturally produce
results falling significantly over the statistical mean within an otherwise
alienating programme. Such methods do not burden assess-ment with an unfair
inflation but rather free it from an unfair deflation.
68.
Whereas ordinary examinations and their grades implicitly claim to deter-mine
personal ability, ‘aptitude tests’ bearing anagrams like ‘SAT’,
‘PSAT’ and ‘NMSQT’ do so explicitly. These are advertised to provide an
objective and accurate measure of general human potential that reflects how well
you will succeed in ‘higher education’ and beyond in your future profession.
For some years, applicants to prestigious universities in the US were compelled
to undergo these tests, and the results could decide whether and where you would
be admitted. To encourage schools in using the tests, the dominant
‘Educational Testing Service’ (ETS) charged not them but the captive
test-takers, amassing annual profits over $100,000,000 whilst listing itself as
a ‘non-profit organisation’. 17
69. Progressive research on the ETS tests themselves has roundly invalidated its advertisements. The tests predict academic success marginally better than throwing dice; they are (no surprise) biased toward mainstream middle-class culture; they exaggerate abstract theoretical reasoning in ‘math’ and ‘verbal skills’; they are far longer than even the speediest freak can finish; the wrong answers are subtracted from the right answers rather from the total of possible answers; the questions are craftily designed to fool or mislead the unwary; and the scores can be suspiciously improved after expensive special coaching. All these findings reveal that the tests unlikely are to produce a reliable assessment of human aptitude; and that the results are even more unfairly deflated than conventional examinations.
70.
A comparison with athletic sports might be helpful. There, novices participate
in situated learning18 with experts on a playing field. The
criteria for success or failure are clearly defined, e.g., strength, speed, or
distance in lifting, throwing, running, and scoring. Efforts can be
strategically focused, e.g., practicing key movements and doing exercises to
strengthen key muscles. Positive achievements are clearly recognised among both
novices and experts, and a rewarding sense of progress is sustained. Even when
your team loses a match, you have their support and the will to go on and
surpass yourself in another match. Moreover, the rules of competition sports
strictly prohibit and penalise unfair advantages, such as ingesting steroids;
and unfair disadvantages to harm your opponents, such as inflicting bodily
injuries.
71.
Academic education, in contrast, abounds with advantages for insiders and
disadvantages for outsiders, depending whether your home language variety
resembles the preferred academic variety; or whether your family can afford a
high-powered home computer or a private tutor. The more education strives to be
‘standardised’ and to discount the rising cultural and linguistic diversity
of post-modern society, the more this unfairness serves to divide insiders from
outsiders — in effect, confirming how society has already divided their
families (cf. I.55).
72.
We might predict that learners who come from alternative or non-traditional
cultures and whose language variety is judged ‘non-standard’ will excel
frequently in practical athletics but rarely in the more theoretical and
academic subjects. Similarly, they will regard sports as the most promising
channels to professional success in later life and the safest arenas to offset
disadvantages in their academic schooling. And the evidence confirming these
predictions is incontrovertible.
73.
So far, I have highlighted the more regressive right-wing currents in
conven-tional education because they most glaringly point up the disparities
between its official theories and its operational theories and serve the
‘hidden curriculum’ of preparing children to acquiesce in social inequality
within an official ‘democracy’ (cf. I.54f). Moreover, these currents are
largely responsible for the ‘educational crisis’ periodically castigated in
the public media, with right and left in their usual deadlock. Right-wing
commentators hotly deny the very existence of the hidden curriculum, and
attribute the crisis to irresponsible teachers and learners refusing to respect
the core values of hard work, diligence, obedience, and so on; the solution is
stricter discipline, harsher punishments, and frequent expulsions. Left-wing
commentators highlight the alienation engendered by the hidden curriculum, and
attribute the crisis to forceful resistance within a broader social and economic
crisis when a diploma no longer promises social rewards.
74.
Whatever the causes, the schools incur greater risks as the social division
between the few insiders and the many outsiders grows explosively wide and
acute. Alienating right-wing methods, such as rote memorisation and repetition,
still predominate among large public schools in poorly funded inner-city
districts, where many learners come from families of outsiders and are destined
to stay outside.19 Meanwhile, progressive left-wing methods have
gained in small private schools, with projects that are more learner-centred,
creative, interactive, and responsive to cultural differences. Model schools
like the Harvard Project Zero20 and programs like LOGO21
prove that learners who were once classified with ‘low intelligence and
aptitude’ by conventional schools are capable of impressive success after
trading an alienating environment for an actualising one. These practical
findings corroborate the theory that ‘intelligence’ and ‘aptitude’ are
more the products of schooling than its preconditions and can be significantly
enhanced through progressive practices that fulfil the official democratic
theory of education.
75.
The issues raised in this section should indicate why education deserves a
central place on the agenda of ecologism. Progress toward inclusion and equality
can only be achieved if the majority of our young people have not spent their
formative years being been channelled through a system that legitimises
exclusion and inequality, engenders alienation, disengagement, cynicism, or
frank hostility, and endangers the general credibility of social institutions
and civic responsibility.
76.
In an ecologist agenda, the process of ‘getting educated’ does not consist
merely of acquiring specialised information and then
reciting it on tests or parading it in the technical discourse of insiders.
Instead, the process must work to convert specialised information into relevant
knowledge and integrate it with general knowledge for communicating with
outsiders whose interests are at stake, e.g., citizens menaced by environmental
pollution. A ‘highly educated’ person is not one who hoards specialised
knowledge for personal status, but one who can share it to empower others. By
this definition, communicating knowledge, and not just hoarding information,
is the crucial measure of how ‘educated’ anyone deserves to be considered
(II.112, 209). Knowledge is one possession that you increase for yourself by
giving it to others; explanation for them can bring clarification and renewal
for you (I.49, 84; II.113). Such could be the benefits of practices for
‘progress’ toward a convergence with an ecologist theory of education for
promoting free access to knowledge and society.
77.
Among the institutions of modern society, science is an eminently
cognitive, linguistic, and social enterprise. Yet even more than education
(I.49), it is typically represented as a predominantly
cognitive enterprise whose linguistic and social dimensions are secondary or
incidental; the term ‘science’ itself is emblematically derived from the
Latin ‘scientia’, meaning ‘knowledge’. If this representation
lends
education an aura of
fairness (I.58),
it lends science an aura
of authority.
78.
As evidence of a cognitive emphasis, I would cite the collocations —
typical word combinations we shall explore later on22 — in the
British National Corpus (BNC), a data bank of 100 million words of contemporary
British English texts (II.153ff). There, the Modifier ‘scientific’ often
appears with cognitive terms, such as ‘knowledge’ (160 occurrences),
‘theory’ (95), ‘understanding’ (24), ‘thinking’ (19), ‘thought’
(16); ‘research’ (250), ‘study’ (84), ‘investigation’ (57),
‘inquiry’ (24), ‘discovery’ (44); ‘evidence’ (114), ‘data’ (36),
‘observation’; (9), ‘principle’ (33), ‘idea’ (27), ‘concept’
(17); ‘objectivity’ (13), ‘fact’ (20), ‘truth’ (12), ‘proof’
(13). Occurrences are rarer with linguistic terms, such as ‘paper’ (68),
‘language’ (12), ‘terms’ (12), ‘communication’ (9); ‘writing’
(7); ‘lecture’ (5),
‘discussion’ (4);
and with social terms, such as ‘work’
(58), ‘activity’ (39), ‘achievement’ (8); ‘cooperation’ (20),
‘collaboration’ (2). Intriguingly, ‘scientific’ never occurs in the BNC
with ‘responsibility’, nor with ‘error’ or ‘mistake’.
79.
The cognitive emphasis
fits the public image of science as an enterprise producing ‘scientific
theories’ that can be tested and proven ‘true’ or ‘false’ apart from
the language of the discourses that express them and from the social status of
the theoreticians that advance them. The practices feature calculating or
observing ‘scientific data’ which your theories purport to explain or even
predict, rather than deploying your powers of persuasion or your
leverage and prestige. But if, as I assert, all human activity integrates the
cognitive, linguistic, and social (cf. I.35, 49), this decorum merely
camouflages the real power of persuasion and prestige.
80.
The reputation of science as the ‘most theoretical’ domain in society is
somewhat misconceived. The ‘theoreticalness’ of science is undeniably the
most explicit and formal, but far less complex and elaborated than the implicit
and informal theories members of society hold about the general organisation of
the world. The most theoretical entity of all is in fact our language, and
discourse is the most practical test, but not a proof (cf. I.B). And whereas the
scope of most scientific theories is expressly limited, the scope of language is
unlimited (I.37).
81.
The term classical science23 has been used for ideology
holding that the theory and practice of science constitute ‘objective’
explorations of ‘classical reality’ fully governed by determinacy and
causality, such that any phenomenon can be explained by a sole ‘valid
theory’ — the heavyweight institutional equivalent of the sole ‘right
answer’ in education (cf. § I.64). The influential family of related
ideologies includes realism: the real and concrete is more valid or true
than the ideal and abstract; empiricism: all knowledge is derived from
sensory experience; positivism: statements have meaning only if they can
be verified or falsified; physicalism: scientific explanations should
refer only to observable prop-erties of physical objects; unified science:
all sciences should be unified within the purview of physics plus formal logic; mechanism:
all biological process should be described in terms of physics and chemistry;
and behaviourism: humans and animals are to be studied through observable
and measurable behaviour. In their more radical discourses, these ideologies are
characteristically assertive, reductive, or exclusive, witness the foundational
discourse quoted in [6].
[6] physical language is the basic language of all
science [and] a universal language comprising the contents of all other
scientific languages. […] Closely associated with physicalism is the doctrine
of the unity of science: that there are no logical
distinctions
to be drawn
between the
different branches
of science. (Rudolf Carnap)24
On
the opposite side are arrayed such ideologies as idealism: the ideal and
abstract is more valid or true than the real and concrete; and mentalism:
human knowledge and activity are based upon representations in the mind. But
these are more at home in philosophy than in science proper.
82. The 20th century saw the downfall of
classical science among scientists, due to challenges from general relativity,
quantum theory, chaos theory, superstring theory, and so on. But the classical
image persists in public discourse and education to sustain the authority of
experts and teachers. Science is ‘taught’ in the schools as
‘information’ reserved for especially ‘smart’ people’ who become
‘experts’ and either cultivate pure theory free from practice, or else turn
science into policies the society must accept.
83.
The most discussed version of classical science is normal science,
wherein a dominant ‘paradigm’ informs both theory and practice. The
currently accredited theory sets the approved framework for ‘theorising’ and
the suitable practices for solving specific types problems we might call
‘puzzles’, like sets of prefabricated pieces to assemble. Every puzzle
solved implicitly reconfirms the theory; mean-while, the theory elides unwelcome
or potentially disruptive issues. The cognitive aspects follow well-fenced
channels, while the linguistic aspects obey the terminology propagated for the
theory, and the social aspects favour the ‘scientific community’ sharing the
paradigm. So all three aspects sustain the theory regarding high technology,
funding agencies, editorial boards, conference calendars, university programmes,
and so on. Insiders find normal science reassuring and rewarding, whereas
outsiders (my own customary role) find it complacent and myopic.
84.
In
an
ecologist
account
of
science,
‘theory’
would
be
a representation
of
nature
designed
to
yield
explanation,
whilst
‘practice’ would be the
objects and events of
nature
that
constitute
the
data
to
be
explained.
This
account
sees
a genuine dialectic
wherein
the
theory explains current data
and predicts future data by means of theory-driven, top-down input, whereas the
data either confirm or refute the theory by means of data-driven, bottom-up
input (Fig. 8).
By highlighting ‘explanation’ and not just ‘knowledge’ or
‘discovery’, this account reunites the cognitive aspects with the linguistic
and social aspects of science as dynamic activity. Achieving knowledge is just
preliminary to communicating it to society; knowledge is the main possession you
increase for yourself by sharing it with others (I.76). Science constitutes an
eminently ‘hopeful utopia’ (in the sense of I.6): despite occasional
grandstanding about the ‘end of science’ or the ‘final answer’, the
space for new discoveries is inexhaustible. However, I detect isolated strains
of hopeless utopia in my own science of linguistics, as in the pronouncement
that ‘speech
cannot be studied’ ‘for we cannot discover its unity’ (see II.40).
85.
A second dialectical cycle relates a ‘theory-driven’
explanation giving input from the top
down and highlighting
calculation, with a ‘data-driven’
explanation giving input from the bottom
up and highlighting observation (Fig. 9).

These terms can be broadly understood as general processes of
‘tuning’ by humans or machines (or both operating in co-ordination). As
complementary cognitive moves, calculation uses prior data to tune current data,
whilst observation uses current data to tune prior data; the tuning can deploy
qualifying, quantifying, calibrating, adjusting, reformulating, and so on. How
these cognitive moves and their outcomes can be efficiently and effectively
represented in discursive moves is a complex issue which scientists have rarely
resolved, preferring the notion that the ‘findings speak for themselves’, or
relying on narrowly prescriptive conventions, e.g., organising the text into
sections called ‘method’, ‘results’, ‘discussion’, and so forth.
86.
For observable phenomena, a third dialectic relates the ‘material substrate of
matter
and energy with the ‘data
substrate’ of information. The
material substrate manifests and determines properties, such
as the quantities and polarities of subatomic particles like neutrons, protons,
and electrons, whereas the data substrate registers and identifies those
properties, such as the atom identifying an element as hydrogen or lithium
(Fig. 10).

This
dialectic operates in distinctive ways for each science. Some sciences like
physics have a ‘sparse domain’ with
general and uniform constraints whereby material and data are related by ‘hard coupling’ (e.g. in a collision of particles); others like anthropology
have a ‘rich domain’ with specific and diversified constraints, where
material and data are related by ‘soft coupling’
(e.g. in a cultural festivity). In sparse domains, the material tends to be
elementary and its observation less informative, so calculation is prominent; in
rich domains, the reverse holds.
87.
The respective sciences might thus be described on a scale from ‘sparse’
toward ‘rich’. Fig. 11 shows a selection of the ‘natural
sciences’ to the left, and of the ‘human sciences’ to the right.

Implicitly
at least, each natural science refers in its foundations to the sparser one(s)
to its left: physics referring to mathematics, chemistry to physics, and biology
to chemistry and physics. This referral can reinforce
institutional authority, insofar as mathematics and physics seem the most
austere and impregnable to
challenge, and less implicated in sensitive ecological and commercial issues
than chemistry and biology (cf. I.97).
88.
Mathematics
plainly has the sparsest source domain, its data concerning quantities and
relations. It studies virtual objects or events having a pure data substrate and
no material substrate and thus not being manifested or observed as real objects
or events, such as the lines, planes, and solids in Euclidian geometry, or the
polynomial and linear functions of calculus. So its theories are consummately
abstract; and, before supercomputers introduced simulations, its practices
ranked calculation far above observation. However, its practices of
representation and measurement can apply to most observed phenomena of the other
sciences, e.g., for dimensions and frequencies; and doing so can be an eminent
cognitive strategy for certifying the ‘realness’ of manifest objects.
89.
Physics has a richer domain, though
still a relatively sparse one, its data concerning the most elementary forms of
matter and energy. Its phenomena, such as mesons and baryons, or fermions and
bosons, are manifested as real objects; the material substrate is hard-coupled
to the data substrate such that an elementary particle is directly determined by
sparse information like mass, charge, and spin. Observation relies on high
technology like photo-ionization spectroscopy or laser interferometry, which
heralds an impressive rise in accuracy and reliability; and theoretical
calculation grows increasingly indispensable. Some phenomena, like the positron,
i.e., the positively charged twin of the negatively charged electron, were
calculated before they were ever observed; others, like the graviton, i.e., the
particle responsible for the force of gravity, have only been calculated, and
physicists yet hope to observe them. Still others, like the elementary quarks
strongly ‘glued’ together by gluons, can be calculated but never observed in
principle, or at least never isolated; so physics tries to circumvent nature by
creating something similar we can observe (I.110).
90. The dialectic of material and data portrayed back in Fig. 9 is
intriguingly confirmed in recent models of the interaction between ‘matter
particles’ (the fermions) and ‘messenger particles’ (the bosons). The four
fundamental forces in the universe can be recalculated as ‘interchanges of
messenger particles’: photons for the electromagnetic force; gluons for the
strong force holding the nucleus of the atom together; W and Z bosons for the
weak force regulating radioactive decay; and gravitons for gravity.25
91. Physics is the science whose ‘theoreticalness’ is
most prominent and may account for its pre-eminent status. Theory has been
pushed the farthest, surpassing the boundaries of scientific observation in the
conventional sense. There, the functions of confirming or refuting are taken
over by calculation, with the referral to mathematics made quite explicit. In
particular, ‘superstring theory’,
sometimes hailed as the ‘theory of everything’ or the ‘end of physics’,
could be tested by direct observation only at Planck energy of 1028
gigavolts, as compared with the roughly 100 gigavolts attainable today.26
But, startlingly enough, the conditions are
amenable to calculation, and to the degree of precision needed to
determine the properties of ‘strings’ twenty powers of ten times smaller
than a proton.
92. Chemistry
has a domain with an internal transition from sparser data on its
‘inorganic’ side more allied with physics, over to richer data on its
‘organic’ side more allied with biology. Its phenomena, such as elements and
compounds, or polymers and proteins, are manifested as real objects in nature;
the coupling of material and data is not so hard, thanks to ‘emergent
properties’, e.g., those of water as compared to hydrogen and oxygen; and
observation is usually much more tractable. The most significant referral to
physics exploits the latter’s capacity to describe matter and energy in
previously unimaginable dimensions of size and speed. Whereas in physics high
technology extends calculation and observation for increasingly tiny particles,
in chemistry it extends the famous periodic chart with a sequence of
increasingly heavy ‘transuranium’ and ‘transactinide’ elements at the
top end, where the ‘mass numbers’ (i.e., total numbers of neutrons and
protons) become immense.27 They are fabricated by practices adapted
from physics, mostly by bombarding lower-mass elements like lead or plutonium
with neutrons or ions. So great was the success that the need for new
terminology fomented problems. At first the new elements received names of early
pioneering scientists (einsteinium, rutherfordium), then of more recent
scientists (seaborgium, meitnerium), and finally just Latinate versions of their
atomic numbers (ununquadium at 114, ununhexium at 116). As the numbers rise, the
properties become purely theoretical, predicted from the lower elements of the
same series (seaborgium from tungsten, meitnerium from iridium). Observation
must contend with extremely short half-lives — for ununhexium, only 0.0006
seconds. Ghostly ununoctium at 118 (half life of 0.0001 second) turned
out to be a false observation and was booted out of the periodic table in 2001
(good job it wasn’t named after anybody).28
93.
Chemistry also devises novel methods of observation, using ‘femtosecond’
technology. In keeping with the term — a ‘femtosecond’ being one
quadrillionth of a second — the technology deploys ultrafast-pulse lasers for
accurate observation of chemical processes in real time, even capturing the
motions of atoms within molecules.29 Moreover, these lasers can
control and modify the processes as well as observe them. In ‘photoexcitation’,
the pulses deposit large amounts of energy in a molecule, leading to
‘photodissociation’30 — the reverse of the celebrated
‘photo-synthesis’ — when the molecule flies apart into fragments, which
can then recombine into a mutated molecule.
94.
In practical applications, chemistry manifests immense diversity and ingenuity.
New technologies treat its elements and compounds like ingredients in a vast
cookbook of novel substances with extraordinary properties and commercial uses,
for which discursive evidence abounds. As of July 2003, the Internet searched
through AltaVista for the key words ‘industry’ or ‘industries’ together
with ‘chemical’ returned 137,880 results and with ‘chemistry’ 3320;
compare just 48 with ‘physical’ and 41 with ‘physics’; or again 562 with
‘biological’ and 143 with ‘biology’. One website named InnoCentive
offers cash rewards for industrially viable solutions to arcane-sounding
problems in chemistry, e.g., ‘can you synthesize this protected unnatural
amino-acid in its enantiomerically pure form?’31 And the
commodities produced by chemistry and offered on the Internet are beyond all
count. Still, website discourse indicates that consumers aren’t eager to know
just how many chemicals they consume; no website advertises ‘chemical beauty
aids’, a ‘chemical shirt’, or a ‘chemical breakfast’, even though many
such items contain chemical products.
95.
Biology has the richest source
domain among the natural sciences. Its data concern the least elementary and
most complex forms of matter and energy, living things; the coupling of material
and data is quite soft, because the emergent properties include ‘life’
itself. Its phenomena, such as plants and animals, are naturally manifested as
real objects, and observation is normally straightforward. Yet like chemistry,
biology keeps enhancing its powers of observation by exploiting the resources of
physics for operating in infinitesimal dimensions. For example, the CAT (‘Computed
Axial Tomography’) scan takes
numerous two-dimensional images created by electromagnetic radiation (x-rays) in
a rotating cylinder and generates a three-dimensional image of the human lying
inside. Whereas ordinary
x-rays just show bones and large organs like the heart with any accuracy, the
CAT scan gives precise images of soft tissues such as muscles, organs, nerves,
and blood vessels.32
96.
The really daunting frontier for calculation and observation in both biology and
chemistry may lie in ‘nanotechnology’, where theory and practice
proceed on the scale of the ‘nanometer’, i.e., one billionth of a meter. As
on the even smaller scale of femtotechnology, new molecules can be constructed
by manipulating their atomic composition. The foremost practical product comes
from ‘dry’ nanotech-nology based on surface science and physical chemistry,
namely the carbon molecule called the Buckyball (after Buckminster Fuller), and
forming ‘nanotubes’ with superconductivity and superstrength (more than 100
times as strong as steel at less than one fourth the weight). ‘Wet’
nanotechnology, based on biological systems existing primarily in water
environments, focuses on how human cells are constructed and how they could
interact in practice with ‘nanomachines’ or ‘nanites’, tiny computers
that might combat diseases or reverse ageing.33
97.
Even more than chemistry, biology figures in website discourse as a topic of
attention and application, and a fiercely disputatious one. Evidently, a
spectrum of social groups become vocal when ‘life’ is at issue. Left-wing
ideology opposes the genetic manipulation of food plants to resist parasites and
drought, fearing harmful side-effects to human consumers.34
Right-wing ideology opposes cell cloning of humans, ostensibly reserving for
their ‘God’ the sole prerogative to create life. Both sides tend to drift
from scientific issues into political ones and from cognitive issues into social
ones, until scientific issues may be judged by people who lack knowledge of
research, not by validity but by popularity or expedience (cf. VII.79).
98. Because they address the essential organisation of
matter and energy, these four natural sciences, more than the others like
geology, astronomy, or meteor-ology, have decisively shaped the modern
conception and discourse of ‘science’. They interact so extensively that
moving among them might be analogous to translating among distinct but closely
related languages, especially when formulas are used; or to moving among
different levels of the same language: the particles of physics (like Phonemes),
the atoms and molecules of chemistry (like Morphemes), and the nucleotides of
biology (like Words) all acquire suitable meanings in combinations and contexts.
The analogy seems singularly apt for the DNA sequence in the human chromosome,
where billions of pairs of just four phosphate nucleotides with ‘letters’ (A
for adenine, C for cytosine,
G for guanine, T for
thymine) ‘spell out’ detailed
‘instructions’ for the growth and life of the organism.35
Devastating diseases, like myeloid leukaemia, Di George syndrome, and
schizophrenia, all linked to chromosome 22, are like malevolent ‘messages’
spelling out cancer, heart disease, and mental derangement; we can only rewrite
or delete them once we manage read them.
99. The ratios of sparse to rich among the natural sciences
apparently correspond to trade-offs between ‘simple’ and ‘complex’. The
sparser the science, the more it deals with simple components participating in
complex events. Physics deals with the very simplest components of matter and
energy, e.g., all electrons being identical, or all photons, and so forth. The
complexity is concentrated in the methods for relating calculation to
observation by means of physical events, e.g., to isolate electrons and track
their behaviour. As physics moves downward in scale, this complexity rises
sharply, e.g., in requiring linear accelerators to bombard atoms with ions and
knock out extremely short-lived subatomic particles. Isolating the apparently
most basic particles, the quarks and their gluons that ‘glue’ them together,
would also be the most complex operation, if it can be done at all. So
physicists are colliding atoms stripped of electrons into each other at
staggeringly high energies, squeezing the protons and neutrons together and
trying to make them melt into a ‘quark-gluon plasma’ so hot they can’t
stick together. This superhot goo is theorised to occur in the core of neutron
stars (where it obviously can’t be observed), which are ‘so dense that a
piece the size of a pinhead would weigh as much as a thousand jumbo jets’.36
Its theoretical significance lies in representing a state of matter and energy
fairly close to the aboriginal state of the universe shortly after the ‘big
bang’.
100. Chemistry deals with somewhat more complex components
and maps the relations and transitions between elements and compounds, whereby
emergent properties are gained (I.92). A reaction such as ‘catalysis’ to
cause or speed up chemical changes is rather complex in itself but can rely on
simple components. The famous ‘Belousov-Zhabotinsky
reaction’37 uses an acid catalyst to convert bromate or bromide ions
into compounds of bromine, as
in this simple ‘recipe’:
[7] sulfuric acid + malonic acid + cerium ammonium
nitrate + sodium bromate =>
carbon dioxide + dibromoacetic acid + bromomalonic acid + water.38
Yet the
reaction is wondrously complex, producing a ‘chemical oscillator’,
observable in colours switching back and forth for quite some time. Each colour
is engendered by a component reaction, the one being less fast and efficient
than the other, and each, at a certain level of concentration, creating the
conditions that ‘catalyse’ the other — a self-organising process of ‘autocatalysis’.
Instead of being uniform or random, the solution thus manifests ‘periodic
behaviour’. Its theoretical significance lies in representing the automatic production of
complexity, which at some primordial stage must have enabled the evolution of
inorganic matter into organic and created the basis for life systems.
101. Biology in turn deals with substantially more complex
components in simpler reactions. Each cell contains microscopic assembly sites
called ‘ribosomes’ that glue amino acids together with ‘peptide bonds’
(a bit like quarks and gluons) to manufacture protein molecules. These are at
first long, thin molecules, but they quickly and spontaneously fold into
distinctive shapes.39 This complex shape prepares a simple chemical
reaction, as in digestion, that fits the protein molecule into a receptor site
precisely shaped for it. In effect, the function of the protein is anticipated
and determined in folding its shape, like forming a key to switch an operation
on or off. The organisation is achieved before the start of the reaction, which
can in turn be simple; no complex sorting and searching are needed, as they
would be if the protein molecules themselves were simpler. Here again, a self-organising process helps sustain
life systems in automatic operation.
102. Now, extending this account at the sparse end, we
might say that mathe-matics deals with the simplest components of all, numbers
and symbols, in events of pure calculation whose apparent complexity is the
product of abstraction (referring to pure relations rather than objects) and
compression (representing relations, quantities, values, and so on in symbols
and formulas). Mathematics is essentially a language (or set of languages) that
acquires generality and precision by abstracting away from all the physical,
chemical, and biological properties of real objects and events. For example, the
well-known ‘Chapman-Kolmogorov equation’ expresses the probability of
transitions between any two ‘states’ in a sequence called a ‘Markov
chain’, which is a radically simple system.40 The set of possible
is states is fully fixed and fully known, as are their frequencies of past
occurrence; the only relevant data for a state are its position and timing
inside the chain; the states are discrete and so cannot form even the simplest
blends or combinations. And since
each state is related only to the ones right before and after it, the system
does not build a history or memory. Even causality is suspended because we
don’t consider why one state leads to the next but only how probable it might
be to do so; thus the system appears ‘stochastic’, that is, constituted by a
random sequence. An equation might appear complex, e.g.:
[8] p(x3,t3|x1t1)
= òdx2
p(x3,t3|x2t2)
p(x2,t2|x1t1)41
where p is the probability, x is a state, t
is a time, and ò
is the ‘integral’ for the ‘differential function’ between the two
‘variables of state and time’. But, as I have said, the complexity is a
by-product of compression. The equation states that the probability of getting
to state 3 at time 3 from state 1 at time 1 equals the differential function
between the probability of getting to state 3 at time 3 from state 2 at time 2
and the probability of getting to state 2 at time 2 from state 1 at time 1.
Decompressing (or ‘deconfining’) into ordinary discourse reveals the deeper
simplicity of the statement. The real complexity begins when the equation gets
fitted to a real system, e.g., to express the probabilities of a machine failing
at a given time, which is a causal event, e.g., due to heat or fatigue in the
materials.
103. Extending the account at the rich end brings us to the
human sciences. Their superior richness over the natural sciences has in
the past been under-estimated by projects like ‘unified science’ to force
them into the same ‘classical’ mould (cf. I.81; II.35). All the same, the
discourse of the human sciences might well progress by taking seriously the
status of human beings as biological, chemical, and physical entities. For
example, the origin of human language might be accounted for not as a sudden
invention by Caveman Og but
rather as a gradual evolution from the internalised chemical and biological
codes into externalised linguistic codes.42 Or, the operations of
language and cognition could be explored in relation to recent discoveries in
biology about patterns of neurotransmission, e.g., their effects on mental
attention and concentration.
104. My scale of trade-offs plausibly suggests that the
human sciences all exceed biology in dealing with processes that appear simple
because enormous complexity is built into the human system, e.g., by cognition,
socialisation, and language acquisition. However, I would not see any comparably
systematic scale of referrals or trade-offs among the human sciences, which is
why Fig. 11 shows the three of them vertically rather than horizontally. We
might say that they represent alternative branchings of divergent but equal
complexity, each one viewing human beings in its own perspective. Moving among
them might again be like translating among distinct but closely related
languages.
105. They are most comprehensively
related in referring to society, as is attested by the popular alternate
term ‘social sciences’ and by the firm establishment of fields like
‘social anthropology’ and ‘social psychology’.43 Yet their
differences are attested by the insecurity of most other fields generated by
applying one of them to another. Judging from the Internet, ‘sociological
psychology’ and ‘sociological anthropology’ are too rare to count as
established fields; the same holds for ‘psychological sociology’ and
‘anthropological sociology’. All but the last of these have an isolated
academic presence as a single university course or research project on the
Internet, whereas ‘psychological anthropology’, which ‘investigates the
psychological conditions that encourage endurance and change in social systems,
with the goal of better understanding the relationship between culture and the
individual’,44 is a stable subfield with its own journal, its own
society inside the American Anthropological Association, and plentiful
university courses. Applying psychology to anthropology, e.g., in
‘cross-cultural perspectives on the human mind’,44 seems
reasonably straightforward; nor can we be surprised at the success of the
younger and smaller subfield of ‘cognitive anthropology’ that
‘investigates cultural knowledge’ ‘embedded in words, stories, and in
artefacts’.45 In contrast, trying to apply either anthropology or
sociology to psychology might stumble over the latter’s tendency to isolate
its studies from culture and society (I.108).
106. Historically, all three sciences shown in Fig. 11 were
consolidated in the 19th-century Europe, substantially later than the
natural sciences, mainly respond-ing to the sweeping social evolution of
‘modernisation’ and to the ensuing social change and stress. Anthropology
assumed that culture might be reassessed by studying pre-modern societies (in
the sense of I.19), most expediently ones under the domination of European
colonialism whose methods of exploitation were also being modernised. The early
anthropologists went to live and work in the society under study, aspiring to
move from being total outsiders over to commanding insight into the cultural
world-view of insiders. The aspiration is laden with paradox, since you can
never erase your own cultural memories; as if in compen-sation, many have
assumed that ‘Western science’ is the transcendent cognitive, linguistic,
and social framework capable of understanding and describing all cultures.46
Moreover, anthropological work has unintentionally opened some societies to
contact and modernisation if not destruction through Western culture.
107. Sociology began as the study of both pre-modern and
modern societies, and gradually became focused on the latter. Whereas
anthropology has highlighted the uniformity of society, sociology has
highlighted the diversity, especially between social classes. The outlook was
thus more overtly political in raising the capital question of whether class
divisions are natural and just (right-wing ideology) or unnatural and unjust
(left-wing ideology) (I.17f); and applications were more prone or indeed
intended to influence public policies, which may merely conceal class divisions
(right-wing) or may seek to reconcile them (left-wing). The outcomes have
remained uncertain, probably because the social theories of sociology have
largely run ahead of social practices in modern societies (cf. I.25).
108. Psychology seems to have stemmed
from a curious dual alliance: a humanist one in philosophy, and a medical or
clinical one in psychoanalysis. In early stages, both sustained an active
interest in culture and society. Later on, mainly in North America, the field
became more self-conscious about its scientific status and its disciplinary
boundaries, and set about creating a strenuously sparse ambience of
‘laboratory experiments’ abstracted away from culture and society (I.105).
By implication, the psychological traits under study are universal to humankind
if they prove to be ‘statistically significant’ — a key referral to
mathematics. Radical behaviourism, which made its own key referral to biology,
even proposed to study traits that are universal to both humans and animals,
famously, dogs, cats, and rats. Education in turn referred to behaviourist
psychology, introducing ‘scientific’ labels like ‘conditioning’ and
‘reinforcement’ for the familiar routines of rote memorisation, repetition,
and evaluation (cf. I.49).
109. I find the terms ‘human science’
and ‘social science’ also being applied in university programmes to fields
like economics, business administration, geography, and political science, as
well as to subfields like government, public affairs, international relations,
industrial relations, social welfare, and environ-mental science. Each of these
fields approaches the ‘human’ situation from its own standpoint of theory
and practice and seeks to influence the theory and practice of society in its
own ways. They seem closer to sociology than to anthropology or psychology; and,
aside from economics, they are less self-conscious about the criteria for
‘science’. They are predominantly practical insofar as they were expressly
created to direct and support applications. However, their own theories can
still run well ahead of social practices outside the academic setting,
especially when science conflicts with powerful corporate interests (cf.
VII.78f, 88).
110.
Such applications return us to the social and discursive aspects of science,
which bear upon the complex and circuitous motivations of society for supporting
science. The populace may still be optimistic that ‘scientific progress’
leads to ‘social progress’. But if the latter designates a movement toward
greater inclusion and equality (I.10), recent advances in science are noticeably
leading to ‘social regress’ toward exclusion and inequality through
expensive ‘high technologies’ and exclusive ‘banks of information’. And
cynical uses of science gave us the fiercest threats to human life imaginable
— chemical, biological, and nuclear weapons.
111.
Moreover, the content of science is largely an exclusive commodity, due mainly
to two factors. First, science is ‘taught’ in many schools as a denatured
aggregate of facts and figures, theories and experiments, that does not relate
it meaningfully to ordinary knowledge and seems reserved for ‘exceptionally
smart’ learners (cf. II.139).47 Indeed, science best serves the preference of schooling for abstract theoretical
information over concrete practical knowledge (cf. I.59). Science
teachers involuntarily abet the hidden curriculum of a significant portion of aspiring learners getting
only marginally included or else entirely excluded (I.55).
112.
Second, the discourses of science are often gratuitously jargonised (cf. VII.8),
for example in economics, e.g. [9].
From studying the wider text, I concluded that [9a]
was probably meant.
[9] The pooling effect enables capacity purchasers to
take advantage of the disparate temporal requirement for flexible capacity and
avoid the cost of capacity constrained operation and low asset utilization that
often face firms to which capacity is dedicated.
(Coordination of Global
Manufacturing)
[9a]
A pool of competing providers with flexible capacity helps purchasers save time and
money when operations
would otherwise
be constrained
and assets insufficiently utilized.
Both
factors sustain the
exclusive power of ‘experts’ who invoke ‘sound science’ when imposing
policies and measures upon the whole society (cf. VII.88).
113.
On the bright side, access to the knowledge of science is becoming more
inclusive, thanks to Internet websites such
as Physics 2000 designed at the University of Colorado, whose goals
include
[10]
to make physics more accessible to students and people of all ages and to
counter its current negative image; to demonstrate the connection between modern
technology and earlier basic research; to foster an appreciation of the
accomplishments of 20th century physics, as we approach the year 2000.www
I
am also encouraged by the signal increase in outstanding popular books on
sciences like physics, biology, and astronomy, useful for marshalling public
interest and support to meet the soaring costs of scientific technology. I
surmise that the authors come away from the writing experience with a clearer
under-standing of their own science (cf. I.76; II.113).
114.
But I am most encouraged by the resolve of scientists to deal with social and
ecological issues beyond the confines of conventional of ‘normal’ science.
The Committee of Concerned Scientists is ‘an independent organization of
scientists, physicians, and engineers dedicated to the protection and
advancement of the human rights and scientific freedom’,77 witness
the discourse of [11] addressing ‘an alarming development’ in Turkey’s
‘educational system’:
[11] A Statute [of] High School Education Institutions states that
‘proof of un-chastity’ is valid cause for expulsion of females from the
formal educational system. Deeply troubled by these incursions on the human
rights of women, we wrote to governmental authorities concerned, pointing to
violations inherent in these regulations of several international human rights
instruments to which Turkey is a State Party.www
As we shall see in VIII.90f, ‘concerned scientists’ are also taking a
firm stand against the destruction of the environment, recognising that science
is the most powerful institution for resolving the problems created by the abuse
of scientific knowledge. The options have never been so clearly drawn as they
are today between ecological action and anti-ecological inaction, between
sustenance and violence, and ultimately between humanity and inhumanity (Ch.
IX).
1
I owe the conception of the two ‘utopias’ mainly to José Antonio de
Ortega y Gasset, ‘Miseria y esplendor de la traducción’, in Obras
Completas (Madrid: Revista del
Occidente), vol. V, 1966, 431-52; and Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed
(London: Penguin, 1972).
2
I was pleased to find
the same contrast of terms in Jim Hightower’s vastly entertaining screed There
‘s Nothing in the Middle of the Road but Yellow Stripes and Dead Arma-dillos (NY:
Harper, 1997), p. 284.
3
The familiar term ‘alienation’ is aptly derived from Latin
‘alius’ meaning ‘other’ — like being forced to act like somebody else
than who you want to be. The distinction between ‘actualisation’ versus
‘alienation’ comes from ‘third force psychology’. Its main texts are
Karen Horney, Our Inner Conflicts (NY:
Norton, 1945); and Neurosis and Human
Growth (NY: Norton, 1950); and Abraham Maslow, Toward a Psychology of
Being (NY: Nostrand, 1968); and Motivation and Personality (NY:
Harper and Row, 1970).
4
See
especially
Teun van
Dijk, Ideology: A Multidisciplinary Study (London: Sage, 1998).
5
Well described by William Ryan in Blaming the Victim (NY: Knopf,
1976).
6
I am rendering the German term and concept ‘Opfer-Täter-Umkehr’ in
Ruth Wodak, Wir sind alle unschuldige Täter
(Vienna: Österreichische Nationalbank, 1989).
7
See Hans-Peter Martin and Harald Schuhmann, Die Globalisierungsfalle:
Der Angriff auf Demokratie und Wohlstand (Reinbeck bei Hamburg: Rowohlt,
1997); Joseph Stiglitz. Globalization and its
Discontents (NY: Norton, 2002).
8
Compare M.A.K. Halliday, Language
in a Changing World (Sydney: Australian Assoc-iation of Applied Linguistics,
1994).
9
My own account is in my New Foundations for a Science of Text and
Discourse (Norwood, NJ: Ablex, 1997), section VI.C
10
Several ominous judgements were reported by Susan Emlet Crandall, ‘Speaking freely: A
constitutional right to language?’, CATESOL
Journal, Fall issue 1992, 7-17.
11
See Signithia Fordham, ‘Racelessness as a factor in black students’
school success: Pragmatic
strategy
or pyrrhic
victory?’,
Harvard Educational
Review
58/1, 1988,
54-85.
12
Compare Dwight
Bolinger, Language: The Loaded Weapon (London:
Longman, 1980).
13
See now Carl
Shapiro and Hal R. Varian, Information Rules: A Strategic Guide to the
Network Economy (Boston: Harvard Business School Press, 1999).
14
See John Taylor Gatto, Dumbing Us Down: The Hidden Curriculum of
Compulsory Schooling (Phildelphia: New
Society, 1991); and Eric Margolis, The Hidden Curriculum in Higher
Education (London: Routledge
Falmer; 2000).
15
Vera John and Eleanor Leacock, ‘Transforming
the structure of failure’, quoted in Rajiv Rawat, ‘The Return of Determinism? The
Pseudoscience of the Bell Curve’, Cornell Science &
Technology Magazine 3, 1995, 10-13.
16
For a detailed discussion of ‘intelligence’ and ‘aptitude’ as
products of education, see my New Foundations (sections VII.E-G) (Note
9), and references there.
17
For a no-nonsense exposé of the ETS, see Allan Nairn, The Reign of
ETS: The Corporation That Makes Up Minds (Washington, DC: Ralph Nader,
1980).
18
See Jean Lave and Etienne Wenger, Situated
Learning: Legitimate Peripheral Partici-pation (Cambridge: Cambridge UP,
1990).
19
On the inequalities of private and public schools, see Jean Anyon,
‘Social class and school knowledge’, Curriculum
Inquiry 11/1, 1981, 3-42.
20
See Howard Gardner et al., Multiple
Intelligences: The Theory in Practice (NY: Basic Books, 1993).
21
See Seymour Papert, Mindstorms: Computers, Children, and Powerful Ideas (NY: Basic
Books, 1980).
22
On ‘collocations’ as typical combinations of lexical items, compare
II.66, 153ff, and Note 156 to Ch. II. Where applicable, these figures include
Singular and Plural forms.
23
The term ‘classical science’ has also been used for the sciences of
‘classical’ antiquity, such as Ptolemaic astronomy; and for early modern
science (17th to 19th centuries).
24
Translated from Syntax als Methode der Philosophie, 1934 Lecture
to the ‘Vienna Circle’, some of whose antiquated adepts attended my own
public lectures to the Vienna Language Society in the 1990s and made wondrously
pedantic comments.
25
I follow Murray Gell-Mann’s wonderfully readable The
Quark and The Jaguar (London: Little, Brown, 1994).
26
See Norma Sanchez and Antonino Zichichi (eds.), String Gravity and
Physics at the Planck Energy Scale (Dordrecht: Kluwer, 1996).
27
The classic work is Glenn Seaborg, The Transuranium Elements (NY:
Addison Wesley, 1958); see now Lester
R. Morss and Joachim Fuger (eds.), Transuranium Elements: A Half Century (Washington
DC: American Chemical Society, 1992).
28
‘Element 118 disappears two years after it was discovered’, reported
on Physics Web, 02/08/2001.
29
Compare Claude Rulliere (ed.), Femtosecond Laser Pulses: Principles
and Experiments (NY: Springer, 1998).
30
See Reinhard Schinke, Photodissociation Dynamics: Spectroscopy and
Fragmentation of Small Polyatomic Molecules (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1995).
31
www.innocentive.com. ‘Enantiomeric’ has
two isomers
as mirror
images
of each
other.
32
See Jonathan Dine Wirtschafter, Magnetic Resonance Imaging And
Computed Tomog-raphy (San
Francisco: American Academy of Ophthalmology,
1992).
33
Compare K.
Eric Drexler, Nanosystems
(NY: Wiley, 1992); ‘Scoring with Buckyballs’, Scientific American
02/04/1997; and Erika Jonietz, ‘Buckyball Cures’, Technical Review.www
34
See especially Sheldon
Rampton and John Stauber, Trust Us, We’re Experts (NY: Tarcher/Putnam, 2001).
35
Jerry Bishop and Michael Waldholz, Genome
(NY: Simon & Schuster, 1990).
36
CERN, ‘ALICE – A Large Ion Collider Experiment.www
See now Ulrich Heinz and Maurice Jacob, ‘Evidence for a new state of matter:
An assessment of the results from the CERN Lead Beam Programme’’.www
37
For the original sources, see Selbstorganisation chemischer Strukturen
(Leipzig: Geest & Portig, 1987).
38
Niall Shanks and Karl
H. Joplin, ‘Redundant complexity’. www
39
David Brown,
‘Deciphering the message of life’s assembly’.www
See now Roger H. Pain (ed.), Mechanisms of Protein Folding (Oxford:
Oxford UP, 2000).
40
See Osamu Watanabe
(ed.), Kolmogorov Complexity and Computational Complexity (NY: Springer,
1992).
41 Joerg
Lemm, ‘Chapman-Kolmogorov-Gleichung’.www
42
Compare
Gerald Edelman, Bright Air, Brilliant Fire (NY: Basic Books, 1992).
43
The UNESCO volume by Pierre de Bie et al., The University Teaching of
Social Sciences (Paris: UNESCO, 1955) indicates that sociology and
anthropology can be academically integrated, along with social psychology, the
latter being quite a different enterprise from psychology proper.
44
‘An introduction to psychological anthropology and cross-cultural
perspectives on the human mind’.www Compare Philip K. Bock
(ed.), Psychological Anthropology (West-port, CT: Praeger, 1994).
45
Roy D’Andrade, The Development of Cognitive Anthropology
(Cambridge: CUP, 1995), p. xiv.
46
See Clifford Geertz, Works and Lives: The Anthropologist as Author (Palo Alto: Stanford
UP, 1988).
47 For a critique of these methods, see Papert, Note 20. For evidence from extensive observation of classroom practices, see Jay Lemke, Talking Science (Norwood, NJ: Ablex, 1990).
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