?-?

 

?-?

"A little learning is a dangerous thing;
drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:
there shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
and drinking largely sobers us again." – Alexander Pope, An Essay on Criticism, 1709.

(2022-English translation: Learning a little about a subject can be dangerous; either go deeply into that subject or leave it alone. A mere sip from the well of wisdom can make you drunk with an egotistical sense of yourself as being “in the know,” and you’ll only sober up if you go back and “drink deeply” from the wisdom/knowledge well.)

There’s a saying about that goes something like this: people pronounce on subjects of which they have insufficient knowledge; unfortunately they lack the knowledge that would be necessary to realize that their knowledge is insufficient. Another, briefer way to put this might be, “My friend, you’re just too uninformed to realize how uninformed you are!” That wouldn’t be nice.

Pope’s four-line, often quoted, anecdote might well alert anyone who pronounces, pontificates on any subject through speech, reporting, blogging, in interviews or over Christmas dinner with family, to exercise a bit of humility, and maybe end their pronouncements with a question- rather than an exclamation-mark.

It might also seem to contain a logical flaw, since no one ever has been able to determine whether or not they possess all—or at least enough—knowledge to confidently hold a position, or even an opinion. Christians say of God that he is omniscient—all knowing—which point likely serves only to emphasize that we humans are not. All and enough defy measurement. Does a doctor know all he/she/they need(s) to to make a definitive diagnosis of a patient’s dis-ease?

If I were to say, “Politicians are to blame for the current financial crisis,” it would take no genius to recognize that I lack sufficient knowledge of politics and of economics to make my pronouncement trustworthy. Question is, would I be conscious of the fact that a whole heap of knowledge that I don’t possess would be necessary to conclude confidently that my pronouncement is trustworthy? Or would I, like so many, operate under the delusion that what comes out of my mouth is, de facto, true, just because… well, because… I believe it to be so.

If there is a planet where everything is orderly, where absolute, complete knowledge has been determined and catalogued and resides in the public domain, that planet is, most certainly, not this one. Here, we speak and write impressions and opinions as if they were facts, as if we possessed knowledge enough to speak with certainty on a given subject.

What we need is a new punctuation mark to indicate that our knowledge of a subject may still be wanting:

1.      In writing, “?-?” might indicate that what we are saying is an impression which is open to being modified if deeper knowledge should present itself. So the politicians-are-to-blame declaration would look like this: ?-? Politicians are to blame for the current financial crisis ?-?

2.      When speaking, we could raise a closed fist, then extend and curl the index finger twice before and after an utterance. This would indicate to hearers that we are expressing an impression, not an incontrovertible, proven fact.

?-? Because we must write and read, speak and understand, throwing out our impressions and opinions as if they were facts simply stifles the joint search for the very knowledge we crave and know we need; we could benefit by correcting for this ?-?

And a side note: An old saying goes:  “He who defends himself in court has a fool for a lawyer.” It could also read, “He who treats himself (with guidance from internet ads?) has a fool for a doctor.” People who spend years of time and energy accumulating knowledge in a field deserve respect. Not worship, but respect, and our carefully listening ears.  

?-? Opinion is never an equal to knowledge-supported conclusions, anymore than a brick is a reasonable substitute for a potato ?-?

Did you get that sentence, enclosed with “?-?” punctuation? I might deservedly be taken to task by someone who has found that a brick can be quite delightful when eaten with a flour, chicken broth, salt and pepper mortar—I mean, bechamel sauce… or maybe, peppermint-stucco gravy. That new knowledge should oblige me to modify my opinion, eh? To go back and drink more deeply from the Pierian Spring, maybe?

A little learning is a dangerous thing;
drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:
there shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
and drinking largely sobers us again. – Alexander Pope, An Essay on Criticism, 1709.