Why this quiet means of introduction?

Imagine you were asked to write a press release covering the material in the introduction to be read by someone who had not read the introduction first. What summary statement would be meaningful? I couldn’t find one, so I failed the test.

Having read this introduction, the communication problem may have become a personal one. Could you readily discuss things that touch on this subject area with someone who has not read the introduction? Probably not, because discussion requires communicants to have sufficiently similar views through their minds’ eyes for each to be able to share their different  insights and questions in terms understandable to the others. In short, people need a common culture to communicate.

The problem I face is how best to build the common culture. The problem is not unique. Each field with specialized knowledge, whether a science or not, has to introduce its body of knowledge and unique and somewhat arbitrary culture to new students so they can come up to speed and join the culture. Introductory courses provide the initial jump start into the conversations. The introduction on this website serves the same purpose. In this case there is less to learn, the cultural aspects are not as pronounced, but the material has to be read by a critical mass of readers so discussants can find one another.

Language and culture enter the picture from another direction. Normally a research study is reviewed by peers from the subspecialty studying the kind of problem, since only those researchers have a suitable depth of knowledge. This study crosses fields and explains gaps, so there is no peer group. Putting a review group together from multiple fields is problematic. That very formation of cultures isolates the groups. Since you may not be aware of the problems faced in interdisciplinary discussions or why those problems occur, perhaps I should explain the way intellectuals become isolated, and some of my experiences and observations with that isolation.

Most university or college departments only need one specialist of a type available to teach courses in a given area; two would be redundant. In publish or perish cultures each researcher focuses any available free time on his or her own research and related studies, inconvenienced by time spent on teaching, departmental committees and other administrative duties. Over their careers, specialists become ever narrower, because research often involves learning more and more about less and less. Peers in subspecialties are dispersed in distant universities and colleges, but the language, methods and knowledge of each subspecialty evolves as the members communicate ideas. As time goes on, each researcher’s general knowledge and the knowledge of their larger field as learned in graduate school becomes ever more dated. The result is that each field is a culture apart and within the field are subcultures.

I was exposed to the widespread communication failures among researchers first hand because this project crossed between and touched on many fields of which I initially knew little. I became a generalist to understand both (1) the relevant material developed in many of the fields and (2) why the specialists in the various fields (a) took and take the approaches they did and do, and (b) did and do not take others. I asked questions and tested ideas; I lectured; I was even invited to (and did) sit in on a graduate theory course in a subject of which I knew little. I found fields and specialties to differ in their methods; in their assumptions; in their cultural biases; in their languages; and in what the researchers felt to be important enough to spend time on. Mathematical thinking would be needed here but would be considered poisonous there. One researcher within a department would be incorrect about what the researcher in the next office understood or felt was important, but would be certain that other fellow would straighten me out. Those researchers clearly did not discuss their work much or keep current on the others’ specialties, but each time I ran into such a situation, I managed to understand both the researchers in the  ways I needed to.

The problem of review first appeared when I sought funding early in this research. The only foundation I could find at the time that claimed to accept promising proposals for projects outside their predefined programs returned my application saying they “had no way to evaluate my proposal.” I learned that in the book business the focus on predefined projects is worded “What shelf does it go on?”

I concluded that the concepts involved had to be introduced and become fairly widely understood before I could openly announce my findings — and certainly before a book could be released, for otherwise it would be without a market. It followed that the project would have to be outed on a website and be given the opportunity to go viral.

Since my subject matter and approach would be unexpected when introduced, any introduction worth the effort of writing would be groundbreaking. In the end analysis, I felt had to introduce the project with the beginning of understanding, since everything else living things do is built on that base. That a general theory could be explained in those terms during the introduction was a bonus.

Since understanding the general theory requires first understanding anticipation, the press release problem remains.

—

More About is coming.

I don’t mean to be secretive about the project as a whole or about myself. But I am time poor and still fighting a set of computer inconveniences. A bit more patience please.

Thank you,

Steve Staloff, Ph.D.
Portland, Oregon
May, 2014