This is the second Searle book I’ve listened to in quick succession. And there in lies the problem, I think. This really isn’t a book one can listen to. It requires much more focused attention than the Reith lectures. Even so it has had me thinking, even though I’ve only picked up a small percentage of all of its themes.
Wittgenstein has been coming up a lot this year – I’m not sure why, he just has been. Friends have been mentioning him at random and in various contexts, he has been making cameo appearances in various things I’ve been reading and then I was in a second hand bookshop and his Blue and Brown Books fell into my hands for only $16.
Well, him and Proust. I know I’m going to have to read both of them at some stage, but I was hoping to put them both off until my next life. Did I mention that I’ve decided to start believing in multiple lives? Well, if one can rightly call a necessity, a belief – as the bookcase beside my bed with the ‘next’ books I’ve got to read is no longer full, it is overflowing into a tottering stack by the chair and I’ve at least a dozen talking books to listen to as well. But does this stop me buying new books? Does this even make me prioritise the books on the shelf? Honestly, ‘had we but world enough and TIME’.
So, I’m going to have to actually read this one, actually get the book and cogitate over it at some stage – but the bits I’m going to be cogitating over are mostly Chapter Two (where he gives a series of bitch-slaps to Behaviourism – to a chorus of cheering from me) and Chapter Nine ‘The Critique of Cognitive Reason’.
Before he gets to Chapter Nine he mentions Wittgenstein’s idea of ‘the background’ in a way that left me ho-humming. But what this becomes later in the book really is something else. I am intensely interested in questions like, If someone is asleep do they still know that Paris is the capital of France? Are they still able to know how to speak German? Or even better, when I ask for a steak and chips how do we resolve all of the ‘assumptions’ that go into the waiter in the restaurant bringing me these items, appropriately cooked and on a plate? The answer is that there are many, many background assumptions that one just has to accept and know to understand just about any sentence of any language – and it is this background that is intensely interesting. I do like the philosophy of the commonplace.
My job sometimes allows me to be in the office at lunchtime – often not, as this is when people are most likely to want to meet with me, but often enough. When I do have lunch in the office lunchroom a group of us do the ‘daily quiz’ in two local newspapers. I am even prepared to admit that one of those local newspapers is owned by Rupert Murdoch – well, none of us is perfect. What I’ve been finding is that my last few years of disassociating myself from popular culture is having an effect. Questions are asked and I couldn’t for the life of me answer them. Photographs are shown to me of ‘super-models’ and the like and I’ve no idea who they are or what they do. There was a time when I thought it would be very difficult not to know what was going on in the life of Paris Hilton – I now know it is remarkably easy to know nothing of her at all. And I have to say that the phrase, ‘ignorance is bliss’ must have been coined for just this state of ignorance which I am currently enjoying.
That is the point, isn’t it? There are backgrounds and backgrounds. We can stuff our minds full of Law and Order or Madonna ™ or whatever other boring shite the mass culture puts in our way – or we can choose to learn other stories, other songs.
Searle talks quite a lot about Chomsky at the end of this book – about Chomsky’s universal grammar. His main problem with Chomsky is the idea of there being ‘rules’ in the brain that allow one to learn a language. I’m not sure what the outcome of all this was – but I think it was that in talking with Chomsky there actually was no difference of opinion between them. I would like to think this was the case, but I’m not sure. Searle would agree that there are human ‘potentialities’ that allow one to learn a language, but not that there are ‘rules’. Rules would sound far too much like ‘computer programmes’ and his thorough rejection of the mind as a computer (requiring both a program and a homunculus to operate it – or at least, to make semantic sense of the symbols and semiotics) really makes the idea of ‘rules’ impossible for him. This is another reason why I will need to read this book.
Searle grounds consciousness very firmly in biology – particularly Darwinian biology. He does not accept anthropomorphism (a thesis he overcomes quickly with reference to the age of the universe and by making the off-hand statement to the effect that it seems like an awfully long time to wait for such a little bit of consciousness” – and thus Hegel spins tumbling into the void.
I like Searle. He reminds me of Aristotle and therefore he reminds me once again of the fact that my mind is nothing like the minds that I am most impressed by. I really wish my mind was more systematic, in the way that Aristotle’s was when he was able to categorise the universe so beautifully and so comprehensively. My mind doesn’t work like that, but I love to watch a mind that does work like that. It is one of the most beautiful things there is. If you would like to see such a mind at work in the fullness of its beauty then Calvino’s Invisible Cities is yet another stunning product of just such a mind.
I need to read this one again, but at present that will mean reading it in my next life, or perhaps the one after that – but read it again I will. It also means I’m going to have to move Wittgenstein’s Blue and Brown Books up closer to the top of the list – perhaps even off the shelf and onto the bedside table. That’s about as close to the foreground as I can manage at the moment, unfortunately.