Whence this love for violence?

My purpose in writing about our dark side is not to heap scorn upon the country I love, but rather to encourage the church of Jesus Christ to dig deep and examine where our penchant for violence comes from, and to ask why we place such great confidence in weapons of war and defensive handguns. Do we have an excessive need to be in control? Do we trust the tools of violence more than other countries? Those of us who believe in the love of God revealed in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth must get in touch with our American obsession for dominance, power, and violence. We must admit them. We must confess these “needs” and put in their place a born-again trust in the efficacy of the fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal 5:22–23).—America and Its Guns: A Theological Expose, pages 62–63

<idle musing>
I've noticed over the years that if violence is admitted as an option, it soon becomes the default option. If someone initially says they will only use violence in defending someone else, it isn't long before they begin to see violence as an option in self-defense as well. Violence is like a virus that takes over the whole thought process and makes it sick.

If, on the other hand, you start from the initial viewpoint that violence in never an option, it's amazing how many creative ways you can come up with to manage the situation. Once again, Lakoff and Johnson are correct, metaphors matter. How we describe things does affect the way we see solutions.

Watch the language!

I challenge us all to think about the words we use in daily conversation and to remove the most violent from our vocabularies. We could take some risks and call attention to one another’s use of violent words and phrases. If we confess our own struggles and use humor, raising a question or two about word choices might help create a kinder and gentler society. Who knows? The truth is that where violence is a problem, words really matter.—America and Its Guns: A Theological Expose, page 51

<idle musing>
I'm not a New Year's Resolution kind of guy, but this would make a good one for those of you who are...

Of course, that will last about 10 days, so why not let the Holy Spirit take your speech and season it with salt? That will definitely be more lasting!
</idle musing>

Yes, Virginia, the words we use DO matter

[After a 2 ½ page listing of gun-related slang, the author says this:] Colloquial British English has but a few words and phrases that refer to guns, violence, and killing. I’ve been told neither the French nor the Spanish languages employ such a large volume of violent terms in their every-day conversations.—America and Its Guns: A Theological Expose, page 48

And:

The words we use are not neutral. It’s commonplace to hear a family member say, “I’m so angry I could shoot you,” or “She made me so mad I could kill her.” Small children, the mentally ill, as well as intelligent, gentle people are influenced by such words. Could violence be so much a part of our culture that we are totally unaware of the explosive power of the words we speak?—America and Its Guns: A Theological Expose, page 48

<idle musing>
Indeed. As I said before, metaphors and words influence how we react. Read Lakoff and Johnson's marvelous Metaphors We Live By. It's an eye-opener.
</idle musing>

Metaphors really do matter—a lot

The metaphorical nature of terms like scheme and script is often overlooked. The use of computers as an analogy for the brain in educational theorizing has led to a belief that schemes, scripts, and cognitive structure itself are “data” or “programs” that people must “acquire” through instruction. The alternative view is that the distillation of experience into forms that might be conceptualized as schemes or scripts is natural for humans of any age.—Understanding Reading, pages 29–30

<idle musing>
I'm noticing this in most of the linguistics books I've been reading lately. They all treat the brain—and by extension, the person—as a machine, a large and very complicated computer. If we can just figure out the correct program, everything will make sense. Except that people aren't logical and rational...so, metaphors do matter.
</idle musing>

It ain't easy

Above all, the key sticking point is the existence of conceptual metaphor. If conceptual metaphors are real, then all literalist and objectivist views of meaning and knowledge are false. We can no longer pretend to build an account of concepts and knowledge on objective, literal foundations. This constitutes a profound challenge to many of the traditional ways of thinking about what it means to be human, about how the mind works, and about our nature as social and cultural creatures.

At the same time, what we have discovered is fundamentally at odds with certain key tenets of postmodernist thought, especially those that claim that meaning is un-grounded and simply an arbitrary cultural construction.

What has been discovered about primary metaphor, for example, simply does not bear this out. There appear to be both universal metaphors and cultural variation.—Metaphors We Live By, pages 274–75

It's all around me!

* Metaphors are fundamentally conceptual in nature; metaphorical language is secondary.
* Conceptual metaphors are grounded in everyday experience.
* Abstract thought is largely, though not entirely, metaphorical.
* Metaphorical thought is unavoidable, ubiquitous, and mostly unconscious.
* Abstract concepts have a literal core but are extended by metaphors, often by many mutually inconsistent metaphors.
* Abstract concepts are not complete without metaphors. For example, love is not love without metaphors of magic, attraction, madness, union, nurturance, and so on.
* Our conceptual systems are not consistent overall, since the metaphors used to reason about concepts may be inconsistent.
* We live our lives on the basis of inferences we derive via metaphor.—Metaphors We Live By, pages 273–74

It's universal

You don't have a choice as to whether to think metaphorically. Because metaphorical maps are part of our brains, we will think and speak metaphorically whether we want to or not. Since the mechanism of metaphor is largely unconscious, we will think and speak metaphorically, whether we know it or not. Further, since our brains are embodied, our metaphors will reflect our commonplace experiences in the world. Inevitably, many primary metaphors are universal because everybody has basically the same kinds of bodies and brains and lives in basically the same kinds of environments, so far as the features relevant to metaphor are concerned.—Metaphors We Live By, page 258

But is it really a resource?

Most contemporary economic theories, whether capitalist or socialist, treat labor as a natural resource or commodity, on a par with raw materials, and speak in the same terms of its cost and supply. What is hidden by the metaphor is the nature of the labor. No distinction is made between meaningful labor and dehumanizing labor. For all of the labor statistics, there is none on meaningful labor. When we accept the LABOR IS A RESOURCE metaphor and assume that the cost of resources defined in this way should be kept down, then cheap labor becomes a good thing, on a par with cheap oil. The exploitation of human beings through this metaphor is most obvious in countries that boast of “a virtually inexhaustible supply of chap labor”—a neutral-sounding economic statement that hides the reality of human degradation.—Metaphors We Live By, pages 236–37

It is true

In general, the true statements that we make are based on the way we categorize things and, therefore, on what is highlighted by the natural dimensions of the categories. In making a statement, we make a choice of categories because we have some reason for focusing on certain properties and downplaying others. Every true statement, therefore, necessarily leaves out what is downplayed or hidden by the categories used in it.—Metaphors We Live By, page 163

Concealing or revealing the truth?

Though questions of truth do arise for new metaphors, the more important question are those of appropriate action. In most cases, what is at issue is not the truth or falsity of a metaphor but the perceptions and inferences that follow from it and the actions that are sanctioned by it. In all aspects of life, not just in politics or in love we define our reality in terms of metaphors and then proceed to act on basis of the metaphors. We draw inferences, set goals, make commitments, and execute plans, all on the basis of how we in part structure our experience, consciously and unconsciously, by means of metaphor.—Metaphors We Live By, page 158

Through narrow glasses

New metaphors, like conventional metaphors, can have the power to define reality. They do this through a coherent network of entailments that highlight some features of reality and hide others. The acceptance of the metaphor, which forces us to focus only on those aspects of our experience that it highlights, leads us to view the entailments of the metaphor as being true. Such “truths” may be true, of course, only relative to the reality defined by the metaphor.—Metaphors We Live By, pages 157–58

A bit of action

New metaphors have the power to create a new reality. This can begin to happen when we start to comprehend our experience in terms of a metaphor, and it becomes a deeper reality when we begin to act in terms of it. If a new metaphor enters the conceptual system that we base our action on, it will alter that conceptual system and the perceptions and actions that the system give rise to.—Metaphors We Live By, page 145

Phenomenology and ethics

The pivotal presupposition which justifies this application of phenomenology to ethics is that ethics has a stake in description. Some of the most pivotal moral decisions we face, even decisions taken at moments of crisis, hinge upon competing descriptions. How we describe something—some phenomenon in the world, some situation in which we find ourselves involved—makes all the difference as to how we decide we are permitted to act. Say, for example, someone was to describe sex as a purely physical encounter. Would it be coincidental that that person then seized any sexual opportunity that presented itself regardless of any existing relational commitments he or she might have? Well, so too with the beginning-of-life ethics: how we think we are justified in acting depends upon how we have described the entity found inside the mother’s womb and, indeed, to the whole phenomenon of human emergence.—Ethics at the Beginning of Life, page xi

<idle musing>
This dovetails nicely with the last post, doesn't it? How we picture things affects what we see. Metaphors matter. The stories we tell ourselves, the way we picture ourselves, all influence who we are and how we act.
</idle musing>

Words matter

Is paraphrase possible” Can two different sentences ever mean exactly the same thing? Dwight Bolinger has spent most of his career showing that this is virtually impossible and that almost any change in a sentence—whether a change in word order, vocabulary, intonation, or grammatical construction—will alter the sentence’s meaning, though often in a subtle way.—Metaphors We Live By, page 136

<idle musing>
Another reason that the Italian phrase "traduttore, traditore" (the translator is a traitor) is so accurate. Every change affects meaning, however subtly.

And that's also why the copyeditor's job is tough at times. You want to make sure the author's argument comes through the most effectively—but you have to make sure that in doing so you aren't changing it. Sometimes that's easier than other times.
</idle musing>

It hides as much as it reveals

The RESOURCES metaphors for labor and time hide all sorts of possible conceptions of labor and time that exist in other cultures and in some subcultures of our own society: the idea that work can be play, that inactivity can be productive, that much of what we classify as LABOR serves either no clear purpose or no worthwhile purpose.—Metaphors We Live By, page 67

<idle musing>
Indeed. A metaphor is a powerful thing. It hides just as much, if not more, than it reveals. By comparing X with Y, you are excluding all other options. You are directing people's thoughts to the particular aspect of X that you want people to notice.

Usually this is a subconscious thing, but not always. You want your version of the truth to be the strongest, so you naturally will choose the metaphor that presents the strongest case.
</idle musing>

Metaphor versus metonymy

Metaphor and metonymy are different kinds of processes. Metaphor is principally a way of conceiving of one thing in terms of another, and its primary function is understanding. Metonymy, on the other hand, has primarily a referential function, that is, it allows us to use one entity to stand for another. But metonymy is not merely a referential device. It also serves the function of providing understanding. For example, in the case of the metonymy THE PART FOR THE WHOLE there are many parts that can stand for the whole. Which part we pick out determines which aspect of the whole we are focusing on.—Metaphors We Live By, page 36

As I was saying...

The very systematicity that allows us to comprehend one aspect of a concept in terms of another (e.g., comprehending an aspect of arguing in terms of battle) will necessarily hide other aspects of the concept. In allowing us to focus on one aspect of a concept (e.g., the battling apsects of arguing), a metaphorical concept can keep us from focusing on other aspects of the concept that are inconsistent with that metaphor.—Metaphors We Live By, page 10

<idle musing>
Indeed, just as I was saying in the last post. How we choose to present something, or think about something, has huge ramifications for the answers we get. If we think LIFE IS A BATTLE, then we look at things in a totally different way than if we think LIFE IS A JOURNEY.

If we think life is a battle, then we will have more of a defiant, defensive attitude. We need to hold the fort, defeat those enemies standing in our path. No retreat! No compromise!

If, however, we think life is a journey, we will tend to see things less as a confrontation and more as an opportunity to learn. We will tend to be more open to new experiences, less defensive.

Me? I'm playing the tourist! What about you?
</idle musing>

How deep does metaphor go?

The most important claim we have made so far is that metaphor is not just a matter of language that is, of mere words. We shall argue that, on the contrary, human thought processes are largely metaphorical. This is what we mean when we say that the human conceptual system is metaphorically structured and defined.—Metaphors We Live By, page 6

<idle musing>
In other words, pretty deep. Extremely deep. (And even that wording of "deep" is a metaphor...)
</idle musing>

How it is said matters

Take languages seriously. Whenever there is some overt difference between two constructions X and Y, start out on the assumption that this difference has some kind of functionality in the linguistic system. Rather than pressing X into the preconceived mould of Y, try to find out why X and Y are different, on the working assumption that such a difference would not be in the language unless it had some kind of task to perform.— The Theory of Functional Grammar Part 1, The Structure of the Clause, page 17

<idle musing>
Seems obvious, doesn't it? But we don't do that. We say, "What he or she really mean is..." I'm in the midst of Lakoff and Johnson's marvelous little book, Metaphors We Live By, and one of the things they stress is that the way we say things matters. A lot. A whole lot. Grab the book and read it, especially pages 136–37.
</idle musing>