|
|
||
 |
|
|
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
||
|
Essays, Opinion, & Commentary |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||||||
|
by Ananda Wood, Ph.D. CONTENTS Ancient Greek Ideas of Learning
In this essay, I'm going to reflect a little on an old philosophy of language, in order to ask how it might help us with our modern theories of language and learning. We know of this old philosophy from a classical Sanskrit grammarian called Bhartrihari. He comes from a time earlier than the 7th century CE, when his treatise the Vakyapadiya was reported by the Chinese traveller I-tsing as already established in the traditional curriculum of Sanskrit learning. This treatise is an advanced text of Sanskrit grammar, or 'vyakarana' as it is called in Sanskrit. Literally, 'vyakarana' means 'making distinct' or 'analysis' (from the prefix 'vi-' implying distinction and the verbal root 'kri' meaning to 'do' or to 'make'). Classical Sanskrit grammar goes back to Panini's Ashtadhyayi, which is largely about grammatical rules and forms laid out in a highly abstract and analytic way. Bhartrihari comes somewhat later on, both in history and in the traditional curriculum, with the emphasis shifting from grammatical forms to an analytic investigation into the nature of meaningful experience. As Bhartrihari explicitly describes his own approach, it is essentially the same as that of linguistic analysis in modern philosophy, and of Wittgenstein in particular. As will be seen, the approach is one of detailed logical analysis, rigorously investigating a living practice of language that is central to our learning and education. And the analysis is meant to be used in a very practical way, to clarify mistakes that confuse our understanding and thus lead us on to feel and think and act mistakenly as well. (See Vakyapadiya, 1.13-4 quoted below at the end of this paper.) Of course, Bhartrihari used this approach in a somewhat different cultural context from our modern academic one. From there, he used it to arrive at conclusions that might seem very strange to many linguistic philosophers at modern universities. Despite the strangeness, perhaps there's something to be learned, across the cultural divide.
Ancient Greek Ideas of Learning But first, before getting to Bhartrihari, it might help to go back to ancient Greek ideas of knowledge, from which our ideas of modern science have developed in the west. In some ways, the beginnings of western science can be traced back to the Greek philosopher Parmenides. He distinguished between two ways of learning: first, the way of 'aletheia' or 'truth'; and second, the way of 'doxa' or 'belief'. Parmenides is quite scathing about the second way, the way of belief. He says that nothing proper can be known through it. Strictly speaking, it is the way of falsity and ignorance. In order to find truth, our habitual and customary beliefs must be rigorously examined, to remove all falsities that mere assumptions and beliefs have brought in. In ancient Greek philosophy, the word 'doxa' did not mean just 'belief', but also 'opinion' and 'appearance' or 'seeming'. The basic sense is one of opposition to true knowledge and reality. In Plato's dialogue, the Republic, Socrates describes this opposition, through the famous simile of the divided line. In this simile, the line is taken to represent a continued progression of learning, from appearances to truth. The progression comes about by examining perceived appearances, so that intelligence may show what is truer and more real in them. This is a distinction between what superficially appears from what is more deeply intelligible, upon a further and more accurate consideration. Applying this distinction to the line of progressive learning, Socrates divides it into two. So he distinguishes two kinds of learning: which are shown in Figure 1 (below), on the left side of the vertical line. The lower and inferior kind is 'doxa', which includes belief, opinion and appearance. The higher and superior kind is 'episteme', which implies a knowing and an understanding that has been refined by an intelligent examination of observed experience. But the same distinction, between superficial appearance and truer consideration, can be further applied to each of the two kinds of learning that have now been distinguished. The result is a division of learning into four kinds, shown on the right hand side of the vertical line in Figure 1.  Here, four kinds of learning are distinguished:
So, in the end, Socrates is just as skeptical as Parmenides, about mere 'doxa' or 'belief'. Both treat such unexamined belief as a compromise that must be transcended utterly, in order to arrive at truth. But, through the course of European history, this Greek idea of 'doxa' has come to have a much more ambivalent influence upon our modern thought. For, related to the Greek 'doxa', there is the Latin 'docere', which means to 'teach'. And, from 'docere' come many words in modern European languages, with meanings that are not just negative, but often positive as well. In Figure 2, some modern English words are shown, deriving from the Greek 'doxa' and the Latin 'docere'. The more negative words are grouped on the left, and on the right are those with a more positive meaning.  As these words show (both negative and positive), there is a problem with traditional learning, when viewed from a modern perspective. The trouble is that the old ways can seem inherently dogmatic, as they are seen to proceed more from assertion of authority than from an open-minded questioning. But, in this view, the old learning is not seen impartially. It's only seen one-sidedly and superficially, from an external view, without rightly taking its own view into account. Traditional teaching was indeed authoritarian in its manner of expression. The reason was quite simple. Before the introduction of printing, students had to memorize their texts, in a largely oral system of transmitting the forms of learning. So, at first, a traditional student had to memorize things formally, and questions of meaning could only come later on. Our modern system is quite different. Because books and other forms of knowledge are so easily available through modern media, students can be encouraged to ask questions right from the start of learning. So our modern approach is to question first and to remember accordingly. In the traditional approach, the attitude was just the opposite. It was to memorize first, in a formal way, in preparation for a questioning that would come later on. But this doesn't mean that the essence of traditional learning was dogma, in opposition to enquiry. The essence was a systematic and scientific enquiry, just as it is for modern learning. And further, traditional enquiry was supposed to be all the more thorough and rigorous, for the long and hard preparation that led up to it. Traditional statements often look dogmatic and mystifying, because they were expressed in a condensed way that was suitable for memorization. But, behind this authoritarian and mystical appearance, they were often meant to raise hard questions that our modern sciences have not penetrated so deeply today. As I see it, this is just what Bhartrihari does, in his Vakyapadiya and its vritti commentary. In particular, I would suggest that Bhartrihari has something to add to our modern academic sciences of language and semiotics. These modern sciences are largely focused on symbolic systems or symbolic structures. However, I would say that there is a undermining problem here, in these modern sciences. Their notion of system or structure is somewhat mechanically conceived, in association with modern physics. And I would go on to say that Bhartrihari's view was not thus undermined, for he used a traditional physics that allowed for a broader and a deeper way of conceiving the phenomena of 'life' and 'mind'. Thus Bhartrihari uses old ideas of life and mind to analyse what symbols and symbolic structures mean. He does this in particular by analysing language -- which he considers in its broadest sense, to include all meaningful experience. In Bhartrihari's Sanskrit tradition, there are many words for 'life' and 'mind'. But, in particular, life is conceived as 'prana' or 'living energy', which animates our living faculties of action in the world. And mind is conceived as 'manas', which is etymologically related to the English word 'mind'. It implies a mediating faculty -- a faculty that mediates between an inmost consciousness and our objective faculties of outward sense or action in the world. In a way, the old idea of 'prana' is akin to the energy of modern physics. It conceives that material objects are only crude appearances perceived by our gross senses. Behind these crude appearances, objects are more accurately described as functioning patterns of dynamic energy. But, in another way there is an essential difference between modern physics and the old idea of 'prana'. For, in modern physics, the functioning of energy is purely mechanical. Its patterns of energy are mechanically described, through mathematical quantities that are measured by externally constructed instruments. But, in the old idea of 'prana', the functioning of energy has also a living component that is organically described. This organic description includes qualitative purposes and intentions and meanings -- which have to be reflectively interpreted, through living faculties that are reflected back into a consciousness that they express. Such an interpretation is essential to our experience of language. In any living speech, the speaker's meaning is expressed from consciousness in outward words, which are then understood by a listener. To understand what has been said, the listener must take the spoken words back into consciousness, through an interpretation that reflects into a common meaning that the words express for both the speaker and the listener. Speech thus involves an energy that is not just mechanically structural, but is organically alive. This is a living energy, which inherently expresses an underlying consciousness, in purposes and meanings that are understood by going back reflectively to what has been expressed. It's through this living energy that speech expresses meaning and that learning is handed down, in traditions that remain alive.
In both the Vakyapadiya and its vritti commentary [1], Bhartrihari makes it plain that a living tradition does not consist of formal rules and structures or outward texts in themselves. In order to express a living knowledge, all structured forms and outward texts depend upon an intelligence that is expressed in the living power of meaningful symbols and words. What keeps a tradition alive is not just the forms and the texts, but a living practice of selecting and interpreting the forms and texts, so that each generation comes afresh to living knowledge. Here are some short passages to this effect, somewhat freely translated from the Sanskrit original.
|
|||||||
|
Enrich Your Life With a Philosophy Book... Enrich Your Life With a Philosophy Magazine...
|
|||||||
|
|
|||||||
|
|
||
|
|
||
[Homepage] [Newsletter] [Search] [Support the Academy] [Link to Us] [Contact the Academy] [Citing Articles from Our Website] [Privacy Policy & Disclaimer]
Copyright 1998-99, 2000-01, 2002-03, & 2004 by The Radical Academy. All Rights Reserved.