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About -isms and -ists
Mar. 21st, 2015 09:04 amI'm trained as a scientist. That presupposes a certain worldview, and specifically one based on the belief that all conclusions about our world should be based on facts and should be considered provisional. The history of science repeatedly demonstrates how one generation's "theory" is superceded by the next generation's theory as new facts, many inconvenient to the previous theory, are revealed. In fact, this process is inherent to science, and distinguishes it from other endeavors: science strives continuously to test its beliefs and replace those that have become obsolete. Few other belief systems attempt this revisionism.
For the sake of this essay, I define "facts" based on a key aspect of the process and progress of science: replication. For the scientist, facts are objective rather than subjective concepts, and are considered to be objective only if another researcher sees the same thing you saw. This shared vision starts from the same perspective, but then deliberately shifts perspective to test whether what you see changes as the perspective changes, or whether it remains invariant. If what is seen doesn't change, you can be confident (but never certain) that it's objective fact rather than an artefact of one's perspective, and therefore subjective. On the other hand, when the conclusion achieved from different perspectives differs, that's a strong clue that your paradigm for understanding is about to be upset. (See, for example, the difference in perspective between Newtonian mechanics and Einsteinian relativity; both are valid, but Einstein provided a different perspective that revealed the constraints, and therefore the limitations, of Newton's theory.)
The thing about this scientific belief is -- tautologically -- that it is a belief, and all beliefs are constrained by certain assumptions that limit the perspectives one can bring to bear on efforts to understand a problem. Much though I'm a believer in the scientific perspective, I freely acknowledge that there are other valuable perspectives. Science, for instance, is largely a matter of the head, but most of human life -- and certainly the most important parts -- relates to matters of the heart and the gut. Though these matters can be quantified, with more or less success (you can measure endorphin and oxytocin levels in lovers and stomach acidity in the dyspeptic), there remains a certain ineffable aspect to these matters that may never be quantifiable in any meaningful way.
This brings me to the subject of this essay, namely words that end in -ism or -ist. To me, these words are clues that define the existence of a perspective, and thus, of the existence of constraints associated with that perspective. We see this in the hoary by no less valid cliché that if one's only problem-solving tool is a hammer, all problems come to resemble nails. That perspective prevents us from seeing that sometimes what you really need is a screwdriver.
I've taught myself the useful skill of -ism detection: when I see or hear such words, I immediately ask myself what constraints that imposes on the person's worldview and which of my own -isms have blinded me to the useful insights I might attain by seeing the world from that different perspective. I often joke, though with an important core of truth, that I am not a feminist (as I'm male, some feminists would deny me the use of that word) but rather a female chauvinist. That both provides free access to the term as a form of self-description, and a helpful reminder that like any other -ism, chauvinism should be recognized for what it is: a subjective and therefore biased perspective.
I like to think that this attitude deepens my appreciation of the world, and there's some evidence this is true. (This essay, for instance.) I also like to think it helps me deal better with other people, but whenever I am tempted by this belief, I remind myself (ironically) that I may be guilty of optimism. Still, I find that it's as easy to be an optimist as a pessimist, and that reminds me not to blind myself to the limits of both those -isms.
For the sake of this essay, I define "facts" based on a key aspect of the process and progress of science: replication. For the scientist, facts are objective rather than subjective concepts, and are considered to be objective only if another researcher sees the same thing you saw. This shared vision starts from the same perspective, but then deliberately shifts perspective to test whether what you see changes as the perspective changes, or whether it remains invariant. If what is seen doesn't change, you can be confident (but never certain) that it's objective fact rather than an artefact of one's perspective, and therefore subjective. On the other hand, when the conclusion achieved from different perspectives differs, that's a strong clue that your paradigm for understanding is about to be upset. (See, for example, the difference in perspective between Newtonian mechanics and Einsteinian relativity; both are valid, but Einstein provided a different perspective that revealed the constraints, and therefore the limitations, of Newton's theory.)
The thing about this scientific belief is -- tautologically -- that it is a belief, and all beliefs are constrained by certain assumptions that limit the perspectives one can bring to bear on efforts to understand a problem. Much though I'm a believer in the scientific perspective, I freely acknowledge that there are other valuable perspectives. Science, for instance, is largely a matter of the head, but most of human life -- and certainly the most important parts -- relates to matters of the heart and the gut. Though these matters can be quantified, with more or less success (you can measure endorphin and oxytocin levels in lovers and stomach acidity in the dyspeptic), there remains a certain ineffable aspect to these matters that may never be quantifiable in any meaningful way.
This brings me to the subject of this essay, namely words that end in -ism or -ist. To me, these words are clues that define the existence of a perspective, and thus, of the existence of constraints associated with that perspective. We see this in the hoary by no less valid cliché that if one's only problem-solving tool is a hammer, all problems come to resemble nails. That perspective prevents us from seeing that sometimes what you really need is a screwdriver.
I've taught myself the useful skill of -ism detection: when I see or hear such words, I immediately ask myself what constraints that imposes on the person's worldview and which of my own -isms have blinded me to the useful insights I might attain by seeing the world from that different perspective. I often joke, though with an important core of truth, that I am not a feminist (as I'm male, some feminists would deny me the use of that word) but rather a female chauvinist. That both provides free access to the term as a form of self-description, and a helpful reminder that like any other -ism, chauvinism should be recognized for what it is: a subjective and therefore biased perspective.
I like to think that this attitude deepens my appreciation of the world, and there's some evidence this is true. (This essay, for instance.) I also like to think it helps me deal better with other people, but whenever I am tempted by this belief, I remind myself (ironically) that I may be guilty of optimism. Still, I find that it's as easy to be an optimist as a pessimist, and that reminds me not to blind myself to the limits of both those -isms.