Horkos [oath] and the sacrament of language â The purloined letter

Philosophy

Original Research http://www.hts.org.za doi:10.4102/hts.v69i1.2048 Author: Johann-Albrecht Meylahn1 Affiliation: 1Department of Practical Theology, University of Pretoria, South Africa Correspondence to: Johann-Albrecht Meylahn Email: email@example.com Postal address: PO Box 14885, Lyttelton 0140, South Africa Dates: Received: 19 Aug. 2013 Accepted: 25 Aug. 2013 Published: 24 Oct. 2013 How to cite this article: Meylahn, J-A., 2013, 'Horkos [oath] and the sacrament of language – The purloined letter', HTS Teologiese Studies/Theological Studies 69(1), Art. #2048, 6 pages. http://dx.doi.org/10.4102/ hts.v69i1.2048 Copyright: © 2013. The Authors. Licensee: AOSIS OpenJournals. This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution License. Horkos [oath] and the sacrament of language – The purloined letter The article will bring a reading of Agamben's interpretation of horkos [oath] in the Sacrament of language, a reading of Derrida's faith as the grammar of language, into conversation with Lacan's interpretation of Poe's 'The purloined letter' by taking into consideration the context of this reading: South Africa. South Africa is a multilingual context in the fullest sense of the word 'multilingual', and as such, it is faced with the dilemma of a corrupt postal system. The postal system is a metaphor for the system of communication where messages are sent and received. This postal system is corrupt as the sender and receiver of messages are not sacramentally bound by the same oath, and therefore the letters are doomed to be purloined. Derrida's différance and the grammar of faith transcends the various languages and the various oaths as the quasi-transcendental condition for the sacrament of language, thereby opening a sacred space to encounter the inevitable corruption of the postal service. 'In my father's house there are many rooms' (Jn 14:2). The 'truth' of the matter is that my parent's house is a divided house, and the various rooms have barricaded themselves against each other in fear of the other. The presumption is that living in a multi-linguistic country implies that there will be miscommunication as people speak different languages, and one can never translate perfectively from one language to another. Therefore, there will be misunderstanding, that is to say miscommunication, as the letter (message) will be purloined. This is what is happening in South Africa – there are numerous languages, so much so that one could say it is a country lost in translation. Yet it is not only the lack of perfect translation between the 11 official languages, as there are numerous language games or discourses even within a single language. For example, if one takes the event or drama of money being taken from the government coffers without the necessary authorisation, this event is interpreted differently in different language games. I will be using this event (trauma) as an example throughout this article. This event or, as Lacan would refer to it (Hurst 2008:352) in reference to Poe's (2008) 'The purloined letter', this letter can be interpreted differently according to the discourse in which it finds itself, and according to this discourse, the actors will find themselves in different positions, for example as either the criminal (corrupt official stealing from the poor) or as the heroes of the struggle taking what is due to them and at last receiving the payment (reward) that the world (those benefitting from the struggle years) owes them. In the one discourse, the government official is stealing and is thus corrupt, but in a different language game, this event is ethical as it is motivated by the idea of distributive justice. These two languages will never meet and find common ground and thus one could say that the letter (communication) between them will continuously be purloined as their speakers are bound by a different ethical code, namely the code of that particular language game. Therefore, it becomes difficult to translate the act (the event) as the letter is purloined in a multilingual context. Yet it would be possible to bring these different discourses around a table and talk, not so much about the event, but how the event is being interpreted in the various discourses and thus come to greater understanding of the discourses. What makes the situation even more difficult is if discourses employed are used as rhetorical ploys to cover up an underlying greed. In other words, if it is convenient to have this 'ethical discourse' with which to justify or condemn actions, but the discourse has very little to do with the event as it is purely used to mask the discourse of greed or disempowerment or whatever else might motivate such a discourse. This is the challenge to which Agamben (2010) tried to respond in his book The sacrament of language. Language in the contemporary Western world has become empty and vain (loss of meaning) and in that sense blasphemous. It has also become blasphemous in another sense, namely in the sense of misusing God's name in various forms of fundamentalism in religion as well as in science. Page 1 of 6 Scan this QR code with your smart phone or mobile device to read online. Read online: Original Research http://www.hts.org.za doi:10.4102/hts.v69i1.2048 This is an intolerable situation, and it needs to be countered. Agamben seeks the necessary remedy (pharmakon1) to this loss of meaning by pleading for a return of the oath and thus truthful or trustworthy speech. This event (the stealing of state funds) places individuals into different positions, depending on the discourse (language game) in which the letter (event) is interpreted. To try and understand why and how language should ethically bind its speaker, I shall follow the arguments of Agamben (2010) from his book The sacrament of language where he develops a kind of theology to protect the inner logic of language – where language ethically binds the speaker so that word and event are ethically linked. Agamben tries to establish this link by unpacking the meaning of the oath (horkos). The oath was introduced with the primary function to guarantee the truth and efficacy of language (Agamben 2010:4), that is, to guarantee the truth and efficacy of one's words. The traditional image that an oath evokes is that of a person standing with one hand on the Bible and the other hand in the air, accompanied by the words: I swear to speak the truth and nothing but the truth. This action of placing one's hand on the Bible and swearing is an attempt to guarantee the truthfulness of the subsequently spoken words. In this action of the oath, the name of God is evoked twice: first as witness to what is said and second as curse for perjury. Firstly, God's name is evoked as witness: 'As God is my witness!' In the second sense, the name of God is evoked in the following sense: 'If I do not speak the truth may God or the gods strike me down.' The oath (in God's name) was introduced as a way to ensure the trustworthiness of language, but with the oath, the possibility of perjury is opened (Agamben 2010:6–7). The very fact that, in certain situations, an oath is necessary translates into the 'fact' that speech as such is not trustworthy and that my yes is not yes and my no is not no, as referred to in the Bible in Matthew 5:37. It is also certain that an oath can only guarantee truthfulness in a society where there is general faith in God or the gods that are invoked in the oath. If one does not believe in the God named or if one does not 'believe' in the Bible, laying one's hand on it or swearing by a God will not have the desired effect. Thus the classical idea of fearing God's punishment for lying only works if one believes in God. Agamben (2010) challenges this popular view of the oath, arguing that this was never the primary intention of the oath to call God as witness. He argues this by unpacking the link between God's name and the oath and by indicating cases where God is not only used as witness or punishment. One interpretation of the origin of oaths is to link the oath to divine speaking. Philo argues, in reference to the creation stories in Genesis, that divine speaking is unique in that God speaks and what he says is done. Thus, there is a direct connection between word and event or thing, or between word and reality (see Philo 1929:65). The oath, which invokes God's name, is an attempt to conform human language to 1.See Derrida's discussion on the pharmakon which is Plato's interpretation of writing as both remedy (that which preserves presence) but also poison (that which destroys presence) (Derrida 1981:99f.). divine language where words and actions, words and reality, coincide. Thus the oath, speaking in God's name, is an attempt to make human language credible (pistos). Philo continues and argues that God is trustworthy, not because of the oath (Philo 1929:93), but because it is God who assures the oath. God's word, divine language, is an oath just as horkos is pistos par excellence in the classical tradition (Agamben 2010:22), and just as pistos (eman) is the attribute of God par excellence: God is trustworthy as he is faithful, in the Judaic tradition. Philo thus establishes an essential connection between God and oath, making oath the very word of God: Logos is oath. What is at stake in the oath is the relationship between words and events or things, or language and reality. Agamben argues that the testimony is given by language itself, and the name of the 'god/s' is not a testimony of testimony but rather names the potential implicit in the very act of speech (Agamben 2010:33). The name of God is invoked in the oath – not as witness, but God's name explores the positive potential of language. In other words, the oath was not introduced to add something to language to make it trustworthy, but the oath describes something of the inner functioning (logic) of language. The oath describes the event of speaking where words allow things or events to come to be as they stand out in being named. Herman Usener's book Sondergötter (1985) explores the use of divine names and the potential implicit in speech. The thesis of his book is that the names of the gods are initially names of actions or brief events (Usener 1985:75) and that these names were only later divinised in myth, art and poetry (Usener 1985:316). In other words, events and actions in the life of the community became identifiable as differentiated actions or differentiated events by the act of naming. These events and actions were named with divine names. The god (name) who presides over the singular activity or situation is nothing but the very name of the activity or situation. What is divinised is the very event of the name, the nomination. Nomination which isolates (differentiates) and renders visible a gesture, an act, a thing, creates a 'special god' and is a 'momentary divinity' (Augenblicksgott). It is in naming that that which is named appears, and it is linked to a divine act of creation. The power of naming is divine power as names allow things to appear. Agamben (2010) argued as follows: Like the Sondergott, the god invoked in the oath is not properly the witness of the assertion or the imprecation: he represents, he is the very event of language in which words and things are indissolubly linked. ... If in polytheism, the name assigned to the god names this or that event of language, this or that specific naming, this or that Sondergott, in monotheism God's name names language itself. (pp. 46, 49) The potentially infinite dissemination of singular, divine events of naming gives way to the divinisation of the logos as such, to the name of God as archi-event of language that takes place in names (Agamben 2010:49). Language is the word of God, and the word of God is, in the words of Philo, an oath; it is God insofar as he reveals himself in the logos as the 'faithful one' (pistos) par excellence (Agamben 2010:49–50). Page 2 of 6 Original Research http://www.hts.org.za doi:10.4102/hts.v69i1.2048 Page 3 of 6 God is the oath-taker in the language of which humanity is only the speaker. In the Cabbala, the metaphysical origin of all language is in the name of God (Scholem 1972:59). Thus in monotheism, language becomes divine, that is, language becomes oath, it becomes Logos. To pronounce the name of God means to understand it as the experience of language in which it is impossible to separate name and being, words and things (Agamben 2010:52). That is to say, the name of God expresses the status of the logos in the dimension of fides, and thus, in the oath, which is truthful, nomination immediately actualises the existence of what it names (Agamben 2010:52–53). Agamben (2010) continues to argue that every naming: ... every act of speech, is in this sense an oath in which the logos (the speaker in the logos) pledges to fulfil his word, swears on its truthfulness, on the correspondence between words and things that is realised in it. (p. 46) The correspondence between words and things is realised in the logos. The name of God names the name that is always true, that is, that experience of language that is not possible to doubt (Agamben 2010:54). Doubt and perjury enter once one pretends to formulate a veridiction as an assertion, an oath as a denotative expression and (as the Church began to do from the 4th century by means of conciliar creeds) a profession of faith as dogma. It is then that the experience of speech splits, and perjury and lie irreducibly spring up (Agamben 2010:58). In the attempt to check this split in the experience of language, law and religion were born. Both law and religion were born to seek to tie speech to things and to bind, 'by means of curses and anathemas, speaking subjects to the veritative power of their speech, to their "oath" and to their declaration of faith' (Agamben 2010:58). Something appears in that it is named (asserted), and in this original naming, assertion, it is true. Thus, in the archi-event of language, the assertorial and veridictional aspects of language are inseparable (Agamben 2010:47). This is the archi-event of language to which Agamben seeks to return. This speaking of language hallows out a space in which humans as speaking animals can dwell, and ethically, it binds them to the language.2 Humans are bound in the oath of the speaking of language3 – the sacrament of language – 2.'The decisive element that confers on human language its peculiar virtue is not in the tool itself but in the place it leaves to the speaker, in the fact that it prepares within itself a hollowed-out form that the speaker must always assume in order to speak – that is to say, in the ethical relation that is established between the speaker and his language' (Agamben 2010:71). The lack that is experienced in nature is not supplemented with a sign, but humans have placed themselves in that gap as humans have put their very nature at stake in language (Agamben 2010:68). Just as Foucault said that man is an animal whose politics places his existence as a living being in question (Foucault 1990:143), so also it can be said of language, namely that humanity is a living being whose language places her life in question (Agamben 2010:69). These two need to be thought together as they are inseparable and constitutively dependent on each other. 3.'... the oath is a consecration of the living human being through the word to the word' (Agamben 2010:66). The oath is situated at the intersection of humanity as political animal and humanity as linguistic animal. The oath is the anthropogenic operator 'by means of which the living being, who has discovered itself speaking, has decided to be responsible for his words and devoting himself to the logos, to constitute himself as the living being who has language' (Agamben 2010:69). Thus the oath binds together in an ethical and political connection words, things and actions (Agamben 2010:69). which can be interpreted as the letter always arriving at its destination as there is an ethical bind that holds it on track. This would mean that different language-archi-events would ethically bind people to different language communities. In other words, different linguistic communities are bound by different oaths, and therefore their truthfulness and trustworthiness does not necessarily coincide. The implication is that the letters (communication) between these different language-systems are bound to be purloined as the postal system is corrupt: There are different oaths ethically binding people to different languages. The oath does not bind across different languages. Different oaths, that is, different archi-events of languages, create different hallowed spaces for humans and therefore different ethical obligations, thereby creating different political spaces. The letters (communication) are doomed to be purloined in this multilingual space. Yet Lacan in his seminar (Lacan 1972), which is an analysis of Edgar Allen Poe's (2008) 'The purloined letter', argues on the contrary that the letter always arrives at its destination. Was Lacan not aware of these various discourses, or was he not aware of the multilingual context that he could make such a statement? No, Lacan was most certainly very aware of the various discourses and that each discourse positions the various 'actors' in different roles or places (Lacan 1972:45) with regards to each other. In other words, each discourse creates a particular social bond (Verhaeghe 19995:95). To say it in the language of Agamben, the discourse hallows out a space for the dwelling of the speaking animal and binds the speaking animal to that particular speaking of language (discourse). The difference between Lacan and Agamben is that, for Agamben, it is the oath that ethically binds the speaker to the speaking of language whilst for Lacan the speaking is an empty signifier (lack) and there is no direct bind – what binds is not an oath linking speaking and event but the structural necessity of the particular discourse wherein the event is unconcealed. Thus for Lacan, truth is no longer found in the relationship between word and event or thing but in intersubjective relationships.4 So what was he referring to when he argued that the letter always arrives at its destination? Firstly, one needs to understand what the letter is for Lacan. The letter is the event or the drama (see Hurst 2008:352). If the letter is the event, then, yes indeed, it will always arrive at its destination because the event as such does not exist. The event discussed at the beginning of this article was the event of money being taken from the government coffers. That event as such does not exist. Thereby I am not arguing that it never took place but that there is no access to this event beyond the particular discourse in which it presents (unconceals) itself. The event only exists insofar as it is unconcealed in a 4.'The "true word" is the word authenticated by the other in the given or ledged faith (trust). The other renders it adequate to itself – and no longer to the object – by returning the message in an inverted form, by making it true, by identifying from then on the subject with himself, by "announcing that he is the same" Adequation and authentification – proceeds through intersubjectivity, the word is "therefore an act, and as such, presupposing a subject"' (Derrida 1975:90, n. 31 in reference to Lacan 1968:13). Original Research http://www.hts.org.za doi:10.4102/hts.v69i1.2048 Page 4 of 6 particular discourse. In other words, this event only reveals itself (unconceals itself) as event within a particular discourse (archi-event) of language or speaking. The event appears as follows: Mr X stole money from the government coffers. Or it appears as: Mr X took what was rightfully his. Which one of these two options appeals to one depends on the language game of which one is part. There is no event beyond either one of these two5 discourses. The event comes to one already clad in a particular discourse as there is no naked event. Lacan's famous argument is that the letter always arrives at its destination. However, the event does not have a destination! It does not, but the discourse in which the event appears has a destination, and that destination is where the letter arrives. To understand this, one would need to take the Saussurian differentiation between parole and langue into consideration. Lacan interprets Poe's 'The purloined letter' as a narration that tells the story of the structural interrelation between the orders of the Real, Imaginary and Symbolic (Hurst 2008:348). Parole is the everyday speech in which the different characters communicate with each other whilst langue refers to the structural or grammatical structure that conditions parole, that is to say, the discourse or language game that both limits and makes parole possible. The meaning (content) of the letter would be parole, but Lacan is not particularly interested in the content of the letter. Poe likewise is not interested in the content as the actual content of the letter is never divulged. All that we are told in the tale is the possible and actual effects of the letter. The letter places and displaces the characters with regards to each other. For example, the queen is in a position of trust and faithfulness towards her king, but the letter displaces her into a position of transgression of that trust and faith. Therefore it is vitally important for her to regain control over the letter. Thus the focus in the conversation between Lacan and Derrida concerning Poe's 'The purloined letter' is on this langue function (discourse or language-game function) of the letter. The letter that always arrives at its destination can be interpreted as Zizek does in the imaginary and in the symbolic (Zizek 2008:22). These interpretations of the letter arriving at its destination all focus on the speaking of language and thus on the structural necessity of language or, one can say, on a certain discourse necessity. The archi-event is the speaking of language, as discussed above where in the archi-event the speaking of the word is supposed to coincide with the event or thing. However, what is forgotten in this archi-event of speaking is that the word spoken is already a supplement. It is a pharmakon and thus poisoned as this archi-word of the archi-event of the speaking of language already proclaims the death of presence. Here, Lacan and Derrida would agree although they use different terms to say something rather similar. Derrida refers to archi-writing and Lacan refers to the empty signifier or pure signifier (Hurst 2008:353). Thus, in Agamben's archi-event of the speaking of language there is already inscribed an archiwriting as the speaking of the word is already a supplement 5.The possible discourses in which this event reveals itself is infinite, but for the purpose of the point I am seeking to make, I shall only refer to these two options. (see Derrida's article '...That dangerous supplement...' 1997:141–164), or there is, in Lacan's terminology, the empty signifier. It is at this site (Lictung) that one would need to locate the difference between Derrida and Lacan's interpretation of 'The purloined letter'. Lacan reads 'The purloined letter' as a form of blindness associated with every form of insight (Hurst 2008:349), and this blindness has to do with a desire for mastery. This is structurally true, and Derrida (1975) would agree, but what he challenges in The purveyor of truth is the finality or status of this 'Truth'. The criticism is very fine indeed and difficult to pinpoint because they seem to be saying the same thing differently. Lacan is as critical as Derrida is of the idea of a final truth as he reads 'The purloined letter' as a blindness that comes with insight and the desire for mastery. He thus criticises the idea of gaining psychoanalytic insight with which one can master others because the moment you think you have this insight you will be blind – a blindness, one could say, that comes automatically with the desire for mastery. Lacan argues and warns of the danger of the analyst's discourse becoming one of power and mastery as that is the very trap into which the Minister, Dupin, and he himself fell, and thus one needs to be wary of this trap. What Derrida is arguing, whilst taking Lacan's warnings into consideration, is that his thoughts remains a Teaching that presents itself as a kind of truth even if the truth proclaimed therein is the truth of lack, that is the truth of non-truth. Lacan argues not for the mastery of knowing but the mastery of not-knowing, the mastery of truth as lack – but this is still mastery. I would argue, taking into consideration Derrida's thoughts, that as long as this discourse is so clearly spelled out and can be given a name, Lacanian discourse, the discourse of the analyst, or Lacanian Teaching, it becomes a 'master discourse'. This is why Derrida argues that différance can never become a name and most certainly not a capitalised name, nor can it be translated into a system or theory, but it remains only that which makes naming possible (see Derrida 1982:27; Bennington 1993:77–78). Lacan's theory or discourse or ideas have become Lacanian psychoanalysis. It has become a capitalised name and this name can be deconstructed, and therefore Derrida argues for the letter possibly-not-arriving at its destination (Derrida 1975:107), thereby taking the finality out of the Lacanian 'truth' or Teaching and opening it up for the 'perhaps/possibility'. Johnson (1977) argues that Derrida's critique is not so much against Lacan but against a certain tradition that has evolved, a Lacanian interpretation of Lacan (Johnson 1977:477–478). Actually, Derrida and Lacan are in agreement, but Derrida's critique is against the Wirkungsgeschichte of Lacan's thoughts. Derrida argues that this is something that inevitably happens to texts and thoughts – there is a natural abstraction that takes place. For example, there will always develop out of the oeuvre of Plato's texts Plato's philosophy (see Derrida 1995a:119), and likewise, there will develop out of the Lacanian corpus a Lacanian psychoanalysis, just as out of Derrida's corpus will develop something that can be called Derridian as Bennington (1993) Original Research http://www.hts.org.za doi:10.4102/hts.v69i1.2048 Page 5 of 6 tried to do in his 'Derridabase'. It is something that has happened to Derrida himself, and it will happen, BUT this abstraction has to be deconstructed. Hurst (2008), as Johnson, argues for the proximity between Derrida and Lacan. I do not wish to disagree with them, but I do want to argue that the difference between Lacan and Derrida also lies on a different level, namely in Lacan's thoughts themselves and not only in the abstraction of his thoughts in the Wirkungsgeschichte of his work. In this article, I would like to argue that Derrida does criticise Lacan and that the criticism can be identified with the use of the ideas of their respective understanding of the role of the quasi-transcendental truth in reference to the letter. For Derrida, in reference to Lacan, 'it [the letter] cannot be found where it is to be found, or else (but is this the same thing?) can be found where it cannot be found' (Derrida 1975:44). Or as Lacan (1972) says it: Which is why we cannot say of the purloined letter that, like other objects, it must be or not be in a particular place but that unlike them it will be and not be where it is, wherever it goes ... (pp. 53–55) Derrida is not challenging Lacan's Teaching (he would probably agree with Lacan), but he is challenging the status and role played by this Teaching. I specifically capitalise the 't' of Teaching because that is what Derrida challenges. He challenges the presentation of the Teaching as something with which to analyse and interpret subjects, texts and contexts. It is presented as a kind of method that has disciples, so much so that disciples can boldly state: I am a Lacanian! The teaching is that 'Truth' is lack, and this teaching is very similar to Derrida's discovery of différance so that one can argue that they are very similar and that both function as a quasi-transcendental, neither seeking to be the final transcendental in the long history of the philosophical search for the final transcendental truth. Derrida's allergy with Lacan is that Lacan presents this Truth (as lack) as a Teaching that can be followed. It is a Teaching that can create disciples, and therefore, it is a Teaching that one can master and should master whereas Derrida's différance is not something one can master; if anything, it happens and autodeconstructs any attempt at seeking to master it. One cannot become a disciple of différance. At best, one can become an appreciator and witness its effects and help others see these effects. Once one states it in such terms, there will be those who would argue that it is what Lacan argues as well, and the difference is only in how they say it – well, if all we have is the text (Derrida 1997:158) then that difference is important because that is all we have. Where does this leave one with regards to the theme and specifically the multilingual context of this article? That the letter always arrives at its destination is indeed true within a particular discourse, within a particular langue. Does it, however, arrive at its destination when two different language games seek to communicate with each other? For example, in the dialogue between Dupin and the Prefect of the police, when two different discourses seek to communicate, one has a situation of the deaf man and one who hears (Lacan 1972:47). Thus in a multilingual context, the letters are bound to be purloined. However, Derrida argues that they need not be purloined, only possibly purloined. It is not a structural necessity, nor is there an oath that binds, and thus, they either arrive or do not arrive – as there is no final structural necessity. All there is is perhaps, and even perhaps is a double perhaps: perhaps perhaps. This perhaps leaves one with a little more faith than with the discovery of Truth, even if that 'final' discovered truth is a lack. Lacan plays with the idea of Truth, even an open-ended truth, or truth as lack, truth as a woman. To these ideas of truth, Derrida responds with something less certain, less capitalised and rather more auto-deconstructive, namely the idea of a trace (Derrida 1982:12, 21, 1997:46) in which all one can have is faith and hope, but never mastery. Thus, the trace does not allow for any kind of work-righteousness of a master, but it is purely a gift: the grace of the trace. Where does that leave South Africa, as a multilingual context, with her democracy and postal service? It leaves South Africa with nothing more and nothing less than the name of God. Not God as final truth, not God as in the guarantee of the oath, but the name of God as the endless desertification of language (Derrida 1995b:55–56), and the only way to cross this desert is with faith and hope. In God we trust. How does that help a multilingual context? It makes the context vulnerable and thus open to the other, fully conscious that the letter might not arrive and thus calling the context to trust beyond the safety of knowledge and the mastery of knowledge. It is calling the context to trust beyond the 'safety' of the masculine death drive, beyond the feminine death drive that questions and transgresses all, but also beyond the analyst drive who knows it all in that she pretends to know nothing and transforms her not-knowing position into a dogma. The alternative is to move towards truly being perhaps knowledgeable rather than pretending to know nothing. It is to move towards being uncertain about everything, thus bringing faith into the play, which opens the space for trust or the oath (horkos as faith), which binds the democracy6 to the democracy always still to come, thus binding what is to what was, but never present, and what always is still to come – maybe binding democracy and our multilingual society to the desire of the Real of democracy. Acknowledgements Competing interests The author declares that he has no financial or personal relationship(s) that may have inappropriately influenced him in writing this article. 6.The oath that binds together the democracy (Lycurgus 1962:79) Original Research http://www.hts.org.za doi:10.4102/hts.v69i1.2048 Page 6 of 6 References Agamben, G., 2010, The sacrament of language: An archaeology of the oath (Homo Sacer II, 3), transl. A. Kotsko, Polity Press, Cambridge. Bennington, G., 1993, 'Derridabase', in G. Bennington & J. Derrida (ed.), Jacques Derrida, transl. G. Bennington, pp. 1–316, University of Chicago, Chicago. Derrida, J., 1975, 'The purveyor of truth', transl. W. Domingo, J. Hulbert, M. Ron, Yale French Studies, Graphesis: Perspectives in literature and philosophy 52, 31–113. Derrida, J., 1981, Dissemination, transl. B. Johnson, Continuum, New York. PMid:6910236 Derrida, J., 1982, Margins of philosophy, transl. A. Bass, Harvester, Brighton. Derrida, J., 1995a, 'Khora', in J. Derrida & T. Duoit (eds.), On the name, transl. D. Wood, J.J. Leavey & I. McLeod, pp. 89–127, Stanford University Press, Stanford. Derrida, J., 1995b, 'Sauf le nom', in J. Derrida & T. Duoit (eds.), On the name, transl. D. Wood, J.J. Leavey & I. McLeod, pp. 35–88, Stanford University Press, Stanford. Derrida, J., 1997, Of grammatology, transl. G.C. Spivak, John Hopkins Press, Baltimore. Foucault, M., 1990, The history of sexuality, transl. R. Hurley, Vintage Books, New York. PMCid:PMC171908 Hurst, A., 2008, Derrida vis-à-vis Lacan: Interweaving deconstruction and psychoanalysis, Fordham University Press, New York. http://dx.doi.org/10.5422/ fso/9780823228744.001.0001 Johnson, B., 1977, 'The frame of reference: Poe, Lacan, Derrida', Yale French Studies, Literature and Psychoanalysis. The question of reading: Otherwise 55/56, 457– 505. Lacan, J., 1968, The language of the self: The function of language in psychoanalysis, transl. A Wilden, Johan Hopkins, Baltimore. Lacan, J., 1972, 'Seminar on "The purloined letter"', transl. J. Mehlman, Yale French Studies, French Freud: Structural Studies in Psychoanalysis 48, 39–72. Lycurgus, 1962, 'Against Leocrates', in Minor Attic Orators, transl. O.O. Burtt, vol. 2, pp. 14–133, Harvard University Press, Cambridge. Philo of Alexandria, 1929, 'On the birth of Abel and the sacrifices offered by him and his brother Cain (De sacrificiis Abeis et Caini)', in Philo, transl. F.H. Colson & G.H. Whitake, vol. 2, pp. 87–195, Putnam, New York. Poe, E.A. 2008, 'The purloined letter', in The Works of Edgar Allen Poe, vol. 2, The Raven Edition, viewed, n.d. from http://www.gutenberg.org/files/2148/2148h/2148-h.htm#linkpurloin Scholem, G., 1972, 'Judaica, that name of God and the linguistic theory of the Kabbala', transl. S. Pleasance, Diognes 20, 79–80, 59–194. Usener, H., 1985, Götternamen: Versuch einer Lehre der religiösen Begriffsbildung, Klosterman, Frankfurt am Main. Verhaeghe, P., 1995, 'From impossibility to inability: Lacan's theory on the four discourses', The Letter: Lacanian Perspectives on Psychoanalysis 3, Spring, 91–108. Zizek, S., 2008, Enjoy your symptom! Jacques Lacan in Hollywood and out, Routledge, London.


One cannot not interact

Philosophy

One Cannot NOT Interact Monsieur Jourdain: And this, the way I speak. What name would be applied to...? Philosophy Master: The way you speak? Monsieur Jourdain: Yes. Philosophy Master: Prose Monsieur Jourdain: It's prose. Well, what do you know about that! ...These forty years now, I've been speaking in prose without knowing it. (Molière, The Bourgeois Gentleman) Abstract: As the digital becomes part of the underlying structure of human existence and activity (just as electricity was integrated in the infrastructure), human interaction will be less and less direct. Mediated through various interfaces, human interaction via all kinds of networks becomes increasingly an expression of the semiotic condition of the human being in the post-industrial age. Professionals dedicated to human-computer interaction (HCI, a more suitable acronym than CHI) and semioticians must realize that they would benefit mutually if they would collaborate better than they have until now. Therefore, this paper submits working hypotheses to HCI practitioners and to semioticians dedicated to aspects of human interaction. A position paper on human-computer interaction, beginning with a quote from literature is unusual. Instead of starting with bandwidth and chip spec considerations, and instead of joining the lamentation over I/O limitations, I submit that the problems of HCI are not primarily technological, but human. This is why the acronym HCI is better suited than CHI, and will be used in this text. As an aside, I suggest the HCI be adopted because this formulation establishes the cognitive framework: Humans initiate interaction. Through interactions, computation returns information and knowledge to the human being. This is why all those involved in HCI need to understand what goes on in it. More precisely, we do not know enough about forms of human interaction mediated by entities such as written commands, images, sounds, etc. that qualify as signs. All those involved in human-computer interaction "speak" semiotics, whether they are aware of it or not. In paraphrasing Paul Watzslawick's famous axiom-One cannot not communicate-I submit (again) to the HCI community that ONE CANNOT NOT INTERACT. And because interaction is based on signs, one cannot not "semiotize"; that is, one cannot avoid semiotics. In other words, unlike prose, as a label for our common use of language, semiotics affects interactions the way our awareness of a process affects our understanding or that process and our ability to control it, that is, to optimize, augment, or fine tune it. Indeed, we express ourselves through various signs; we interpret them, and thus become part of the infinite sign process. Our practical experiences (work, learning, various transaction, etc.) are more and more semiotic in nature, i.e., more and more mediated by signs, visual or of other types. The computer is a semiotic engine. After all, it is not electrons that users are interested in, but the information processed and the new interpretations made possible. This is why the computer accelerated the semiotization of human life, including the semiotization of the interaction between humans and machines as well as among individuals involved in distributed activities. What the quote from Molière should afford the reader is a very simple understanding. Yes, we all speak prose. And even those who are not aware of this can be good at it. The meta-level (definition of prose) and practical experience (speaking to each other) are not co-dependent. If we take Monsieur Jourdain to be an HCI engineer, we face a relatively similar situation: The metalevel (definition of HCI) and the practical experience (computation) are, however, co-dependent. In order to make effective computation possible, the CHI professional has to provide means of interaction that do not stand in the way ("Learn the interface"), that do not become a cognitive "overhead", but rather a cognitive support. Computational experiences should not be dependent upon the meta-level of HCI awareness. The case I am making through the formulation "One cannot NOT interact" is actually one in favor of computational ubiquity [1]. As is the case with every broad statement, it means close to nothing unless it is substantiated. Here are the arguments for my axiom: Interactions can be direct: raising one's hand in greeting, pounding on a table, pulling a lever, cracking an egg, for example. Or they can be mediated: showing a picture in reference to a physical phenomenon, touching a soft-button on a copy machine in order to execute a desired operation, or clicking on an icon in order to connect to a Web address. A simulation is a mediated interaction through which we settle in the representation of what is simulated under the assumption that some coherence is preserved between the real and the represented. This is the underlying cognitive assumption of semiotics. Our interaction with computers is mediated by various I/O means, methods, and procedures. There is no way to avoid this condition of semiotic mediation. In the analog world, direct interaction is still sometimes possible. In the digital realm, a language (of two digits, 0 and 1) and a grammar (Boolean logic) stands between the user and the hardware. The intersection area-where and how the mediation takes place, i.e., how interactions occur-is of interest from the perspectives of many disciplines: psychology, cognitive science, technology, education, communication theory, design, economics (how effective is the interaction; what costs does it entail?), culture (to what extent does it fit the cultural context), among others. Each of these disciplines can affect our understanding of HCI and can, within the framework of methodological investigation, support the implementation and evaluation of user interfaces and other aspects of interaction. Some of these perspectives are more important than others; some are easier to consider when proceeding with the task of making HCI possible and effective. The only characteristic impossible to eliminate is the semiotic characteristic, because regardless of the nature of the interaction considered, it always takes place through the intermediary of signs (more precisely, sequences of 0 and 1, according to rules of encoding and decoding expressed in the adopted format, e.g., of 32-bit machines, 64-bit machines, etc.). This intermediary appears to the user in forms close to our culture: words, actions (e.g., clicking on a mouse, that is, sending an interrupt signal), images, sounds. All these form the object of semiotics. They constitute an underlying element similar to language (but not reducible to it), in the absence of which no interaction is possible. Monsieur Jourdain had spoken prose all his life without having the slightest inkling of it. People around him understood what he had to say. The same thing holds true of HCI in respect to semiotics, but only in respect to describing how a certain sign works. A minority of those involved in the field is aware of semiotics above and beyond an elementary understanding of how a word or an image is used in order to facilitate an action. Without exception, HCI professionals want to gain access to the secret of designing effective means and methods of interaction. Monsieur Jourdain confessed, "I am in love with a lady of great rank and quality and wish to ask your help in writing her a note." Not unlike him, HCI professionals are dedicated to (and sometimes in love with) the computer and would like all the help they can get in order to make the interaction better and more intuitive. They want to support a variety of interactions corresponding to the variety of users. Eventually they try to reach that evasive goal (but a very assuring slogan!) of user-centered interaction, also known (in Norman's vocabulary [2]) as human-centered design. Short of understanding how signs are constituted and how interpretations emerge in a pragmatic context (i.e., what is called sign process); moreover, short of understanding what the relation between the machine, the program, and the user is, the HCI community will at best continue to provide solutions that in fact reduce the effectiveness of the computation it is asked to support instead of enhancing it. Actually, the HCI community is aware of that fact that only a small fraction of what is possible through computation is realized. And again, this is not because of technology (which is ahead of us), but rather because of HCI that is not yet well conceived. The user does not need to know the meta-language (semiotics). However, the HCI professional cannot avoid learning it. In view of all this, I argue for the following practical goals: 1. The necessity of a semiotic foundation. As long as the complexity of computation was very low (due to the fact that computers are in our day still in a very early stage of development) and the interaction limited, the HCI community has been able to get away with even rudimentary semiotic notions or with an intuitive procedure. The following assessment refers to both semioticians and HCI professionals: All kinds of dilettantes and peddlers of ideas picked up during a conference coffee break have been successful in promoting metaphors, visual conventions, and I/O devices whose packaging was better than their real performance. Let's face it, after the desktop metaphor, which was conceived on a semiotic foundation, almost nothing of similar impact has emerged. As the complexity of computation increases, richer interactions are possible. Especially as networking poses new challenges irreducible to the artistry of self-declared information architects and screen designers, interactions take new forms. Henceforth, the necessity of a semiotic foundation will make it impossible for HCI professionals to avoid studying the various aspects of interaction that networking brings about. Let me point to the relation between the represented and the representation, the dynamics of representation, visual codes, interpretation, multimedia, to name only a few of such aspects. (For more details, see Nadin, 1988 and the descriptions under Course of Study at the Website www.code.uniwuppertal.de.) My Computational Design Program [3] and Joseph Goguen's program at UCSD are dedicated to the exploration of the semiotic aspects of interaction. The Group at the Pontificia Universidade Catolica in Rio de Janeiro pursues semiotic engineering as a well-defined field of applied semiotics (focused on communication) and information science. In Denmark, the Centre for Human-Machine Interaction (CHMI) is making progress along the line I suggested. The Workshop on Semiotic Approaches to User Interface Design, CHI 2000 provided a framework for exchanging ideas and experiences based on this work. 2. Integration of semiotic considerations at the level of operating systems. Since an operating system is the program through which we address the computer (hardware, software), it follows that HCI considerations can no longer be limited to the cosmetics (or illustration) of the operating system's functionality, but need to start with the design of the operating system. This is where interaction is pre-defined. At this high level, semiotic considerations should go hand in hand with technical considerations. Whether multiuser, multiprocessing, multitasking, or multithreading, operating systems are high-level semiotic entities that act as intermediaries between applications and users. Regardless of what kind of representations are used (line commands, icons, dial controls, etc.), these are signs mediating the expression of practical goals with the aim of using the knowledge embodied in the machine (at the hardware level and in software expression) for certain practical purposes. This is why the integration of semiotic considerations at the level of operating systems is fundamental for improved human-machine interaction. 3. Semiotic foundation of academic programs in HCI. In order to optimize the use of computation, we need to address the complexity of HCI. This interaction is not reducible to technological innovation, but essential to its success. Thus, it follows that there is a need for establishing academic programs dedicated exclusively to the study of interactions in all possible computing environments. These must integrate, as their foundation, the scientific and technological aspects of computation, as well as the semiotics of computation. In particular, design, which also has a semiotic foundation, has to become a subject matter for all computer science programs. Interactions can be enhanced and made richer by design; they can be customized and adapted to individual characteristics. The issue is not screen design, as some tend to see it, but rather communication in a multimedia environment that supports HCI. 4. Complement usability with semiotic adequacy evaluations. Last but not least: The obsession with user performance, expressed in usability studies, has to give way to a balanced understanding of what we evaluate. Now is the time to complement usability with semiotic adequacy evaluations (concerning types of signs, context and meaning, cultural characteristics). Some concrete aspects (communication, to give the example that Sickenius et al [cf. Prates, 4] focused on) of semiotic adequacy should be approached systematically. We need to look into how various signs (visual, aural, tactile, etc.) complement each other. If we learn about semiotic synergy, we might be able to optimize means and methods of interaction in order to minimize the computational cost of interfacing, while at the same time improving interaction. As the digital becomes part of the current underlying structure [5] of human existence and activity-just as electricity was integrated in the underlying structure of industrial society-human interaction through networks becomes increasingly an expression of the semiotic condition of the human being. Even if, ad absurdum, the HCI community will continue to resist semiotics (regardless of reasons such as ignorance, laziness, captivity to models of interaction pertinent to pre-computation experiences, etc.), semiotic awareness will eventually help in freeing ourselves from the hodge-podge of unsystematic, obscure, and half-baked formulas still dominating the field. In not too distant a future, very few will be as surprised as Monsieur Jourdain was in finding out that he spoke prose. Not unlike those musicians who cannot read a musical script but who are, at times, very good performers, HCI professionals will have to study "music," i.e., semiotics. In the concert of a great pianist, the many hours of study and exercise totally disappear in the genius of the performance. Semiotics, if understood and practiced with the same attention to precision and expression as logic and mathematics, disappears in HCI. But it makes possible interactions that would not arise without it. In asking whether the HCI community is willing to study semiotics with the same dedication that it studies mathematics, logic, computer science, etc., we set an expectation that might be unrealistic. The alternative is the "art" model: great designers do something only they know how and why, and which by some miracle works. This romantic alternative is in fact none. HCI cannot be reduced to "nice" images, to "attractive" screen designs. Aesthetics is important, but only once the design of the interaction is right. The design of interaction is actually the "script" of a sign process (semiosis). And as such, this semiosis is anticipatory: a future state (one of many possible, for instance, in designing an application) of the system defines the current state. To design this kind of interaction is not possible without understanding how signs are perceived, interpreted, and used in a given context. As computation becomes more ubiquitous, languages of interaction will emerge and become part of our general culture. The complexity behind an electric switch is no less impressive than that behind a computer application. But in the switch, we see a semiotic experience embodied, one that is probably comparable to a semiotic experience embodied in a nuclear power plant. HCI should not set its goals lower than that. The complexity and effectiveness of computation depend on HCI. And HCI is depends upon our ability to provide means of interaction that are both precise and expressive. This work was partially supported by a grant from the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft (DFG, German Research Association). References [1] Nadin, Mihai. The best computer is invisible, in Computer Art Faszination. 1996. Dr. Dotzler Media Institute: Frankfurt/Main, pp. 210-212 [2] Norman, Don. The Invisible Computer. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1998. [3] Nadin, Mihai. Computational Design. Design in the Age of a Knowledge Society, in formdiskurs, Journal of Design and Design Theory, 2, I/1996. Frankfurt/Main: Verlag Form, pp. 40-60. [4] Prates, R., C de Souza, S. Barbosa. A Method for Evaluating the Communicability of User Interfaces, in Interactions, January + February 2000, pp. 31-38. [5] Nadin, Mihai. The Civilization of Illiteracy. Dresden: Dresden University Press, 1997. Bibliography Andersen, Peter Bogh. A Theory of Computer Semiotics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990. - (1995). The force dynamics of interactive systems. Towards a computer semiotics, Semiotica 103-1/2, 5-45. Nadin, Mihai. On the meaning of the visual: 12 theses regarding the visual and its interpretation; and The discipline of interdisciplinarity (Introduction), in Semiotics of the Visual: On Defining the Field. (Mihai Nadin, Ed.) = Semiotica, vol. 52, no. 3/4 (1984). Amsterdam: Mouton, 1985 -. Visual semiosis applied to computer graphics, in Annual Conference Proceedings of the ASEE. Hanover, PA: The Sheridan Press, 1986. -. The meaning of the image, in Semiotics 1982 (J. Deely, J. Evans, Eds.). Lanham, New York, London: University Press of America, 1987. -. Interface design and evaluation, in Advances in Human-Computer Interaction, vol. 2 (R. Hartson, D. Hix, Eds.). Norwood, NJ: Ablex Publishing Corp., 1988. -. Design and Semiotics, in Semiotics in the Individual Sciences, vol. II (W.A. Koch, Ed.). Bochum: Brockmeyer, 1990. pp. 418-436. -. What Difference Does Digital Make? in New Media Showcase, 1:1, 1991, pp. 5-8 Nadin, M and Zakia, R. Visual Aducation, in Semiotic Theory and Practice, (M. Hertzfeld, L. Metazzo, Eds.). Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter, 1988, pp. 1237-1243. Nake, Frieder (1994) Human-computer interaction: signs and signals interfacing, in Languages of Design 2, 193-205. Prates, R., C de Souza, S. Barbosa. A Method for Evaluating the Communicability of User Interfaces, in Interactions, January + February 2000, pp. 31-38.


Trouble at Work

Philosophy

Introduction to logic-based therapy. This Socratic dialogue illustrates the techniques used by Philosophical Counselors in helping their clients work through life problems. Philosophical Counseling is based on Stoic Philosophy and practitioners assist clients to identify faulty reasoning that leads to poor behavioral choices or unwanted emotions. Dialogues such as this can serve as teaching resources for students working towards certification in Practical Philosophy or Philosophical Counseling.

TROUBLE AT WORK? A Socratic Dialogue Composed by BRENT SILBY Bringing philosophy down from the heavens and giving it to the people has been my life's work. While many philosophical questions may seem abstract and irrelevant to every day life, philosophy can also be practiced by people who want to learn how to live well. I recently met a young person named Emma who was ruminating over a bad day at work. The following is my recollection of our dialogue. -Socrates PAUL: Socrates! Socrates! It is good to see you. What brings you to the shopping mall? SOCRATES: I am passing through on my way home. PAUL: You're on your way home? Not if we can stop you. You must join us, here in the cafe, for coffee and discussion. This is my friend, Emma. I think you two will get along well. I've been telling her about you and the way you see the world. I think you might be able to help her with a problem she had at work. SOCRATES: I see the world as it appears to me. Is there anything unusual about that? I cannot think of any other way I can see the world. PAUL: You see, Emma? Already, he starts. EMMA: It is nice to meet you Socrates. Please do join us. SOCRATES: It is nice to meet you too, Emma. But I am sorry I must decline, for I need to return home to meet someone. PAUL: What time is your meeting? SOCRATES: 6pm. A friend is joining me for dinner. PAUL: Well, it is 2pm now. There is plenty of time for us to talk. SOCRATES: Very well. You have convinced me to detour from my plan. PAUL: Wonderful. Come now, sit here with us. I shall order you coffee. (he signals to a cafe staff member to bring more coffee) PAUL: I am glad you turned up, Socrates. We've been talking about work and how it causes stress and lowers quality of life. SOCRATES: My work improves quality of life. PAUL: We've been talking about certain jobs, like Emma's. SOCRATES: What job do you have, Emma? EMMA: I work at a department store. Mainly in shoe sales. SOCRATES: And you believe your work is lowering your quality of life? EMMA: Unfortunately, yes. Especially today. A customer complained about me to my manager. It's really causing me a lot of stress. I have to meet my manager tomorrow to talk about it. SOCRATES: So, you are feeling stress, which is lowering your quality of life. Can you tell me, what exactly is causing your stress: the customer complaint, or meeting with your manager? EMMA: Both, really. But mainly meeting with my manager. SOCRATES: What will happen in the meeting? EMMA: I don't know. SOCRATES: You are stressed about something unknown? EMMA: She might fire me. SOCRATES: Oh dear, that would be most unfortunate, if you like your job. But you said your job is lowering your quality of life. Would it not be good fortune to be released from it? EMMA: Not at all. That would cause more stress because I'd have to find a new job. I would have no money, and I wouldn't be able to pay my bills. SOCRATES: Shall we take a step back, then, and examine the issue. Why did your customer complain about you? EMMA: The customer wanted to swap a pair of shoes that are too small. She bought them about 3 months ago, but our store policy is to not offer exchanges for purchases after one month. So she was too late. She got really angry when I tried to explain the store's exchange policy. SOCRATES: It sounds like you were following company policy. Would your manager approve or disapprove of you following company policy? EMMA: I'm sure she would approve. SOCRATES: And yet you feel stress about the meeting tomorrow. Is it not possible that your manager wants to congratulate you on how you dealt with the situation? EMMA: Maybe, but I doubt it. SOCRATES: Do you really think you might be fired for following company policy? EMMA: Well, probably not. It's just that I don't know what's going to happen. That's why I'm feeling stressed. The manager will want to keep the customer happy -you know, "the customer is always right". SOCRATES: An unusual slogan, which I do not understand. Tell me, what might the manager suggest you do to keep the customer happy? EMMA: She might want me to contact the customer and offer her the exchange. SOCRATES: The customer would indeed be happy in that case. Would that be a bad outcome? EMMA: There seems to be no point having a company policy if it can be broken whenever a customer asks for it, so in that way I think it would be bad. SOCRATES: The contradiction may well harm the company. But I wonder, in what way would this harm you? Why are you feeling stressed about this possibility? EMMA: It's hard to explain. SOCRATES: Try to say it just as you think it. What's really bothering you? EMMA: Well, the thing is, I told the customer that she couldn't exchange her shoes. She got really angry with me and complained to my manager. Now if my manager makes me contact the customer to do the exchange, she'll think ... I don't know ... it will be like she won. She went above my head and won. It will be embarrassing and I'll feel foolish. SOCRATES: You think the customer would have won a battle against you? Would it not be more accurate to say that she won a battle against the company? Forgive me, but you are not making the company rules, right? You are merely communicating decisions that the company makes, am I correct? EMMA: That's true, but I'll still feel foolish if this happens. It's like I'm just a lowly shop assistant and what I say to the customer doesn't matter. And she'll know that, because all she had to do was go above my head to talk to someone who isn't as lowly as me. SOCRATES: Are you saying that you would feel foolish because the customer would think that you are lowly? Or to use language I find more familiar, the customer might think you are unworthy and you would therefore feel unworthy. Is that what you are thinking? EMMA: Yes, that's it, exactly. SOCRATES: It seems to me, Emma, that we do not know why your manager wants to meet you, so you are making an assumption which may be false. But let us assume that your manager will indeed ask you to offer your customer an exchange. You're reasoning, then, can be represented as follows: P1. (premise) If a customer thinks I'm unworthy, then I will feel unworthy P2. (premise) Because I have to tell the customer that my manager has decided to let her proceed with the exchange, the customer will think I'm unworthy. C. (conclusion) Therefore, I feel unworthy Does it help to hear your thoughts outlined this way? Or shall I keep quiet? EMMA: I think talking through this is helping. SOCRATES: Shall we examine your first premise? Is the opinion of other people important to you? EMMA: Of course. I have to deal with people every day, so their opinion really matters to me. SOCRATES: Is it a problem if someone does not approve of you? EMMA: That's what I'm saying. In fact, that's exactly what's bothering me. SOCRATES: Then we have identified another premise in your reasoning: I must have the approval of other people. Let us rework your reasoning with the new premise: P1. (premise) I must have the approval of other people P2. (premise) If I must have the approval of other people, then if a customer thinks I'm unworthy, then I will feel unworthy P3. (premise) Because I have to tell the customer that my manager has decided to let her proceed with the exchange, the customer will think I'm unworthy. C. (conclusion) Therefore, I feel unworthy Let us examine your new premise. Is it true that you must have the approval of other people? EMMA: I'm human. I want people to like me. SOCRATES: Of course. But you now appear to be saying something else. Is there not a difference between wanting people to like you and believing that you must have their approval? EMMA: Yes, there is a difference. SOCRATES: You speak with wisdom. Indeed, there is a difference between stating a preference on the one hand and insisting that the world must be a certain way on the other. Tell me: can you control the thoughts of other people? EMMA: Not directly, no. But I think I can influence their thoughts. SOCRATES: How do you influence people's thoughts? EMMA: By the way I talk and act towards them. SOCRATES: This sounds right to me. But regardless of what you do, people's thoughts are private and they are free to think what they want, am I right? EMMA: I suppose so. SOCRATES: In your dealings with the customer, have you been honorable and polite? EMMA: Most certainly. I am always honorable and polite. SOCRATES: Then, as a free person, you have done your best. The customer is also a free person and will decide for themselves how to view the situation. EMMA: But I don't want them to hate me. SOCRATES: Of course not. You prefer that people approve of you. But you cannot control their thoughts, so demanding that you must have the approval of others appears to be unrealistic, does it not? EMMA: Okay, okay. I understand. I guess I just have to accept that some people won't approve of me. SOCRATES: A wise acceptance. Shall we take a closer look at your second premise. Why would someone thinking you are unworthy make you feel unworthy? EMMA: I don't know why. It's just a feeling. I can't control my feelings. SOCRATES: Can't you? Doesn't that depend on how you come to have your feelings? You may find that changing your thoughts about a situation can, indeed, give you control over how you feel. Now, you just said that in dealing with the customer you were both honorable and polite. EMMA: That's right. SOCRATES: And in following store policy, were you acting with good intention? EMMA: Yes. I was trying to do the right thing. SOCRATES: In trying to do the right thing, is it not true that you were acting justly? EMMA: I think I was acting justly. SOCRATES: Given what you have said, do you think you are unworthy? EMMA: Not at all. SOCRATES: Then if the customer thinks you are unworthy, should you not remember the things that make you a worthy person: that you are honorable, polite, act justly and with good intention? EMMA: I should try. SOCRATES: If you have acted honorably, justly, and with good intention, your soul is intact and you have nothing to worry about. EMMA: I don't believe in souls. SOCRATES: Think of your soul as your character. Your character is intact. The customer cannot harm your character with her thoughts. I have long argued that the only real harm that one can suffer is damage to one's soul. And this damage occurs when one lives an unjust life. One should therefore focus on keeping one's soul healthy by living justly, which in this case you seem to have done. EMMA: Really!? This is starting to sound a little silly. Do you know what he means, Paul? PAUL: We often disagree, Socrates and I. And I must say that we can refute his current point very easily. Simply watch someone fall from a high window and break some bones and Socrates will be refuted. Surely you would agree, Socrates, that when someone is physically injured they are harmed. SOCRATES: Ah Paul, I have heard that response many times over the years, and I admit that my belief is contrary to the common sense belief of most people. Nevertheless, I maintain that worldly misfortunes, such as damage to flesh and bone, have no lasting significance and are nothing compared to the damage that you can inflict on yourself by living an unjust life. The soul is of more value than the body, and life would hardly be worth living if it were damaged. So Emma need not concern herself with the opinions of others. She must focus on living a just life. PAUL: I don't buy it, Socrates. If I were paralyzed I'd certainly disagree with your claims. SOCRATES: Answer me this, Paul: is a dishonorable, unjust person who behaves shamefully, but who is in top physical condition as good a person as an honorable, just person who acts admirably, but has suffered a physical injury? PAUL: You're up to your tricks again. Are you sure you're not a sophist? EMMA: Wait a minute, Paul. I think I understand what he's saying. He's saying that regardless of what happens to your body, if you live a just life you are better than if you live an unjust life, which means you're a healthier person. Is that what you're saying, Socrates? SOCRATES: Healthy people can reside in damaged bodies, can they not? EMMA: Yes, I get it. I actually get it. SOCRATES: So, Emma, if the customer thinks you're unworthy, what does that mean? EMMA: It means she doesn't know me. I live an honorable life. I am worthy. SOCRATES: I couldn't have put it better myself. Shall we take a look at your third premise: Because I have to tell the customer that my manager has decided to let her proceed with the exchange, the customer will think I'm unworthy. Will you please clarify for me: upon what do you base your thought that the customer would consider you unworthy simply because your manager has decided to let them exchange their shoes? EMMA: This is also hard to put into words. I was thinking that because I don't have the authority to make that decision myself, the customer had to go to my manager who can make the decision. Then if I have to go back to the customer to tell them that I was wrong, the customer will see me as subordinate. SOCRATES: Is there another way to see the situation? EMMA: I'm not sure. SOCRATES: If you had broken the rules, the customer might then have been contacted by the manager for another reason. And as you would clearly be in the wrong, she may, in such a case, see you as subordinate and unworthy. But you didn't break the rules. You followed the rules. Now you think the manager will make an exception and ask you to pass new information on to the customer. Do you really think she would consider you unworthy for following this process? EMMA: Well, I supposed I don't really know. SOCRATES: Is it not possible that the customer will thank you for getting in touch, gladly exchange the shoes, and think nothing more of it? EMMA: That is possible. SOCRATES: This possibility disarms the third premise in your reasoning, does it not? EMMA: Yes, I think I might have been focusing too much on the negative possibility. SOCRATES: Now that we have examined your reasoning, what will you do next? EMMA: I think I'll wait until my meeting tomorrow. I will tell my side of the story and listen to my manager. I have no idea what she's going to say, so I shouldn't invent stories in my head. I think I did the right thing, so I can't be reprimanded for my actions. If she wants me to get back in touch with the customer to offer the exchange, I'll be polite as always, and let her know that the company has reconsidered. She'll be happy. PAUL: This sounds good. Thanks for joining us, Socrates. I am still in disagreement about the soul and the body. Perhaps we can talk about that another time? SOCRATES: I am almost certain that the opportunity will arise again in the future. But for now, I must leave you, for I have an appointment tonight. It was nice to meet you Emma.


Philosophy

Retractions play an important role in research communication by highlighting and explaining how research projects have failed and thereby preventing these mistakes from being repeated. However, the process of retraction and the data it produces is often sparse or incomplete. Drawing on evidence from 2046 retraction records, Quan-Hoang Vuong discusses the emerging trends this data highlights and argues for the need to enforce reporting standards for retractions, as a means of de-stigmatising retraction and rewarding practising integrity in the scholarly record.

February 20, 2020 Retractions: the good, the bad, and the ugly. What researchers stand to gain from taking more care to understand errors in the scientific record blogs.lse.ac.uk/impactofsocialsciences/2020/02/20/retractions-the-good-the-bad-and-the-ugly-whatresearchers-stand-to-gain-from-taking-more-care-to-understand-errors-in-the-scientific-record/ Retractions play an important role in research communication by highlighting and explaining how research projects have failed and thereby preventing these mistakes from being repeated. However, the process of retraction and the data it produces is often sparse or incomplete. Drawing on evidence from 2046 retraction records, Quan-Hoang Vuong discusses the emerging trends this data highlights and argues for the need to enforce reporting standards for retractions, as a means of destigmatising retraction and rewarding practising integrity in the scholarly record. While it seems obvious that withdrawing papers, which contain errors or misconduct, helps to keep the literature healthy, researchers want to avoid retractions at all costs. Indeed no editorial practice in academia can affect an academic reputation as much as a retraction. The stigma is rooted in the fear of every researcher that a retracted article, which would remain accessible online with an additional tagline of retraction notice, is like a scar seared into the public profile of an author. But, just as every scar is a reminder of a past mistake or injury, every retraction, regardless of the reasons – an honest mistake or a deliberate fraud, also has something to teach us. The good A recent analysis of 2,046 retraction records, cleaned upon extraction from the Retraction Watch (RW) Database and major publishers' websites, brings attention to how retractions are not always initiated by the editors and publishers, but also by the authors themselves. As Figure 1 shows, although half of the retraction notes do not reveal the initiators, 301 notices, or 15%, were made solely by the authors. These 'heroic souls', despite knowing the stigma associated with a retracted article, willingly make that request and even provide reasons for why they think the findings should be removed from the literature. If between 2008 and 2016, the number of such 'heroic acts' was consistently below 10 each year, by 2017 and 2018, it had spiked to 27 and 55, respectively. At first look, this could spark concerns about the rising number of inadequate publications. Yet, one should also be hopeful that the competitive world of academia has not completely extinguished scientists' motivations for genuine selfcorrection and transparency. 1/4 Figure 1. Source: Learned Publishing The bad The overall landscape, however, is not so optimistic. More worrying signs emerge in Figure 1 when one looks at a large number of retraction initiators (53%) and a small number of retractions (11%) mutually agreed by the editors and the authors. Even though publishing retraction notes is a required practice, there is clearly a lack of consistency and consensus across journals in the writing of notice content. For instance, the Committee of Publication Ethics (COPE), an established organisation in publishing best practices with thousands of journals and publishers as members, does recommend the notes to disclose who is retracting the paper and their reasons, but this practice is not enforced well enough in practice. Digging deeper, my study confirmed the obscurity in disclosing the person who first requested the retraction. This means that the 91% of retracted articles with adequate notes detailing the reasons still fall short of the COPE recommendation. Knowing who initiated the retraction is not merely a matter of curiosity, but also one of acknowledgement. It benefits the authors who bravely admit their errors as much as their fellow researchers, who would look up to such candidness and realise not all retracted papers are related to scientific misconduct. The more retracted papers overlook this piece of information, the more suspicion they garner, and consequently, the more injustice is done to authors who honour the self-correcting spirit of science in coming forward. 2/4 The ugly It takes courage to own up to one's mistakes as much as to be self-reflective of one's shortcomings. A close-up analysis of 434 retracted articles shows the devastating loss of a limitation section in a research paper. To write a limitation section is to selfacknowledge the weaknesses, and ultimately, represents an expression of humility and readiness for improvement. Yet, a strict categorisation yields only 8 articles with this section, and even a more flexible approach that counts some kind of self-evaluated 'discussion' or 'future research directions' gives only 38 articles. What is the correlation between these numbers and retraction? Remarkably only four of the 38 retracted articles touch on weaknesses that to different extents reflect the actual reasons for withdrawing the articles. By overlooking the ugly side of a research project, researchers are giving up the chance to re-examine it, an act that is essentially counter to the critical nature of scientific research. The beauty in science does not lie in the eyes of the beholders as conventional wisdom would have it, but instead in our commitment to upholding its values and ideas. It is thus important to also own up to one's ugliness in a project, a step that may prevent the future embarrassment of a more egregious error. Conclusion Retracted papers, no matter how undesirable they are, poke right at the heart of scholarly publishing. A serious existential question arises regarding the health of the industry: What to do if an author is not coming forward to recall an inaccurate published paper, and the editorial board which accepts the paper is not aware of such inaccuracy or misconduct? Are we doomed to rely entirely on the heroic souls to be open about their shortcomings? 3/4 After all, scientists are humans, and humans are fallible. It is unavoidable that our research has its limitations and may be retracted under certain circumstances. When a retraction happens, scientists and editors/publishers alike should cooperate to make the information as detailed and transparent as possible. This post draws on the author's article, The limitations of retraction notices and the heroic acts of authors who correct the scholarly record: An analysis of retractions of papers published from 1975 to 2019, published in Learned Publishing. Note: This article gives the views of the author, and not the position of the LSE Impact Blog, nor of the London School of Economics. Please review our comments policy if you have any concerns on posting a comment below. Featured Image: Steve Johnson, via Unsplash 4/4 References RW. (2019). The RetractionWatch Database. Retrieved from: http://retractiondatabase.org/RetractionSearch.aspx? Vuong, Q. H. (2020). The limitations of retraction notices and the heroic acts of authors who correct the scholarly record: An analysis of retractions of papers published from 1975 to 2019. Learned Publishing, 33(2), 119-130. COPE. (2020). Retraction guidelines. DOI:10.24318/cope.2019.1.4. Retrieved from: https://publicationethics.org/retraction-guidelines.