Theoretical Frameworks and the Limits of Communication

Among the starkest contrasts brought into view in the wake of 2020 (as it has unfolded thus far) can be seen in the struggle to communicate on a meaningful level. The United States in particular has witnessed an increasingly shrill level of debate over the unfolding and handling of the COVID-19 pandemic, the economic repercussions arising therefrom, and the widespread protesting in response to various forms of systemic racism. What is most alarming to me about the many related debates and discussions, which I have witnessed both privately and publicly, is the extent to which they appear interminable and incommensurable.1 It is not merely that people disagree, it is that they appear unable to actually communicate meaningfully. Here I wish to explore, in (regrettably) inchoate form, one possible reason for this.2

Central to my argument is the concept of what I will call a theoretical framework. I have spoken before about “presuppositions, paradigms, and ways of thinking” that are unique to modernity.3 What I am talking about here is the same idea, albeit in a slightly more defined way. By “theoretical framework”, I refer to the idea that any opinion or worldview requires a certain underlying structure of rationality which is logically entailed by it.4 For most of us this framework exists beneath the conscious level and is therefore often unspoken and unacknowledged, if not completely unknown. Nevertheless, it is this implicit structure of rationality that allows us to make sense of our experience; it acts as a kind of lens through which we view and interpret the world.5 In viewing the world in terms of an underlying theoretical framework (from which we can never wholly escape) we necessarily place limits on our understanding. (The phenomenon of confirmation bias is an ideal example of being limited by one’s theoretical framework.) This does not preclude change or a gradual evolution, but it does reinforce a (apparently innate) propensity to solidify or become rigid over time.6 Theoretical frameworks are in large part a product of our socialization. Everyone, no matter who they are, when they are, or where they are, has one. (The modern frame itself describes the totality of such theoretical frameworks as they relate uniquely to the modern epoch.) Identifying, mapping, or deconstructing them is no easy task, and can likely never be done fully or definitively. There are eternal blind spots, from which we can never be certain of fully escaping.

Consider that two people can experience the same event, or set of circumstances, or body of thought, and come to completely different (sometimes opposite) conclusions or interpretations. This can partly be explained on the basis of their respective theoretical frameworks. If I believe,7 for instance, that people are the cause of things or events (in a deliberate/positive way), I may interpret events such as the COVID-19 pandemic as the deliberate action of a person or group.8 If I believe that God is the cause of things or events (in a deliberate/positive way), I may interpret the same pandemic in a theological way, such as an act of divine retribution. If I believe the COVID-19 pandemic can be explained on the basis of natural science, I may interpret such events in light of a contemporary scientific understanding. And so on. Of course, this is a dramatic simplification. But it should provide a general idea of the sort of thing I am trying to describe. Notice there is nothing about these beliefs that is mutually exclusive; indeed all three may be held simultaneously.9 Nor is it the case that such beliefs exist in a sort of vacuum, isolated and alone. Rather, they exist as part of a complex multiplicity of such beliefs, together constituting the theoretical framework of a given person. Notice further that I have phrased such beliefs in a way that makes certain logical entailments explicit, in a sort of “if p then q” fashion. However, if the conclusion (q) is taken as obvious (COVID-19 is the deliberate action of a person or group; COVID-19 is an act of divine retribution; COVID-19 developed naturalistically), the premise (p) is likely to be unacknowledged and/or unknown. When propositions or conclusions or even arguments are taken for granted, the rational structures which support them–their implicit logic or underlying belief system–is often hidden, unacknowledged, and/or unknown.

Consider also that much contemporary debate (particularly relevant here are those about COVID-19, economic repercussions, or systemic racism) often appears to be accompanied by a completely disparate set of facts. In other words, the proponents of various positions related to these debates appear to operate on the basis of a set of facts unknown or flatly denied by their adversaries.10 I would like to suggest that this apparent disparity as it concerns questions of fact arises–in part, if not to a very great extent–as a consequence of vastly different theoretical frameworks adopted both by participants in debate as well as their sources of information.11 In such situations the common ground of discussion (and therefore the necessary precondition of all meaningful dialog) erodes, leading to a condition in which clear and meaningful communication becomes nearly impossible. At this point, a limit to the communicative ability has effectively been reached, and participants must resort to a form of argument characterized largely by assertion and counter-assertion. Thus, the character of much contemporary debate, which is analogous to two people speaking different languages to each other.12

One way to describe this is that the relative homogeneity of premodern society has been replaced by the heterogeneity of the modern.13 Here I am talking about viewpoints. The expanding scope and quantity of beliefs and values which characterize the contemporary world have created a situation that is historically unprecedented. In effect, it has led to an exponential multiplication of theoretical frameworks, each taking up a unique vantage point.14 Perhaps a better way to describe this is that the common stock of ideas, definitions, concepts, and so forth–which provide the basis for mutual understanding and meaningful discussion–has expanded to such an extent that such understanding becomes increasingly difficult to achieve. This can, I think, partially be explained by the structure of liberalism itself.

In a previous essay, I noted that liberalism recasts the human good in terms of the preferences of individuals.15 This means that liberal orders must govern by principles of justice which do not presuppose any overarching conception of the human good, so as to not impose any one worldview or way of life on the populace. This is ideally suited to a pluralist society since the sheer mass of possible theoretical frameworks precludes a shared understanding capable of identifying the human good. The closest form of agreement (which is really a simulacrum of agreement) are the results of the procedures for tallying and weighing the expression of individual preferences–what Alasdair MacIntyre has called “counting votes, responding to consumer choice, surveying public opinion”.16 The lack of a shared understanding may also account for the phenomenon that, in the public sphere, “[n]onrational persuasion displaces rational argument”.17 Again, given the structure of liberal societies this may be unavoidable, but it is disconcerting all the same.

I will not pretend to be optimistic, but I do have a few thoughts. If the discussion is to advance, it must occur in some way, at least initially, at the level of theoretical frameworks.18 At least a significant part of this crisis to communicate is wrapped up in the unexamined theoretical frameworks of individuals. The involved parties must understand this situation. Simply knowing it exists would (I hope) contribute to the increased charitability of those involved, as well as add to the possibility of a more mutual understanding. This would involve clarifying definitions, supplying context, implicit assumptions, logical entailments, and possibly many other things. It would involve a willingness to listen, and an honest attempt to understand one’s adversaries–not simply trying to get at the meaning of what is being advanced, but also the attempt to consider what context or what rational structure would enable the opposing position to be valid.19 Trying to understand the underlying basis for a given position is key not only to understand that position but also to identify potential problems with one’s own, as well as both common ground and potential weaknesses within opposing viewpoints. What matters then, insofar as meaningful debate and discussion are concerned, is an investigation into the theoretical frameworks that structure our thoughts and interpretations, and learning to communicate them to relevant others. When large areas of such frameworks can be discovered and disentangled in a mutually beneficial way, the actual conversation can move forward and become fruitful.20

There is also a natural tendency to shun those with whom we disagree.21 I believe this is a mistake. It is increasingly common to see people label each other in some way, such as uneducated, racist, bigoted, “sheep”, even evil. In so doing, we limit our ability to actually engage with others. We also limit our ability to understand them, and in turn, our ability to persuade. The contemporary social media phenomenon of “defriending” is a case in point. Here a given person seeks to buffer him or herself from opposing viewpoints. The literal inability to tolerate the existence of other views is here on full display, as (for some) longstanding friendships are scrapped over alleged disagreements without even a discussion taking place. This is childish nonsense. We would do better to welcome the opportunity to engage with those offering an alternative viewpoint. And, if not engage directly, at least learn to consider what we do not understand. Before we open our mouths, we should, perhaps, think a bit.


Notes:

1. In a way, this is not alarming, as these are but the latest examples in a historical epoch largely characterized by such interminable communication. Here, the work of Alasdair MacIntyre is perhaps most relevant.

2. In many ways, the content of this essay is preliminary. At the very least the idea needs to somewhat refined and further developed. I have nonetheless decided to go with it, and will attempt to draw additional implications, and perhaps provide a clearer picture in the future.

3. See the Introduction to this website (www.themodernframe.com).

4. If this definition is not readily understood, think of a theoretical framework as an “implicit set of beliefs”. To be sure, I am using the word “theoretical” in a somewhat novel sense in my stated definition. I could perhaps have used the word philosophical or even metaphysical, but such choices carry more baggage with them than I would like to risk. Still, theoretical is perhaps no better. It may also be slightly misleading to refer to this framework in the singular, as it is better described as a logical network of interrelated structures of rationality, by no means necessarily coherent or lacking in contradiction. The idea of there being multiple rationalities, competing and various, is also something that many people may find difficult to accept. Again, here I recommend the work of Alasdair MacIntyre, specifically After Virtue and Whose Justice? Which Rationality?

5. It is actually more complicated than that. Following the same idea as #4 (above), there is probably no single “lens”, but rather many interchanging and interlocking lenses through which we view and evaluate and comprehend the world we see around us. Charles Taylor has written about this to some extent in A Secular Age and Sources of the Self.

6. This is of course witnessed by the phenomenon of confirmation bias. Those who seek to merely reinforce their own viewpoints are especially prone to this. There appears to be a danger in exclusively associating with people, or reading authors, with whom one already agrees. The danger lies in limiting one’s viewpoint, thereby being ill-equipped to engage in meaningful discussions with certain others who hold different views.

7. By “believe” I refer to my theoretical framework, which may be largely unacknowledged or even unknown to myself. Despite my lack of awareness, this framework nonetheless exerts a kind of power over me, coloring or shading my thoughts and perceptions, and ultimately, my conclusions about the world.

8. If I adopt such a framework, I may be increasingly prone to conspiracy theories.

9. As an example, consider someone who believes COVID-19 was caused by a group of people who used their scientific understanding of virology and communicable diseases to do God’s will.

10. Consider the proposition: There is systemic racism in America today. Is it true? You would think that the validity of such a statement would not be that difficult to confirm or deny, especially with supporting facts. Yet there are large groups of people that either confirm or deny this proposition on the basis of what they believe to be facts. How are such people have a meaningful discussion without simply talking past each other?

11. This is closely connected to the idea that facts are theory-laden, i.e., they do not exist independently of a theoretical structure. What I see and perceive and interpret–and therefore my articulation of a given fact–is ultimately rooted in my theoretical framework. See Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue and Whose Justice? Which Rationality? See also, Thomas Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions.

12. Although it is not quite that bad (explicitly), it is (implicitly) in some ways worse. When two people speak different languages they at least know that they do not understand each other, and are not communicating in a way that is intelligible to their interlocutor. When two people speak the same language, yet on the basis of differing or unexamined meanings, communication becomes an illusion. The virtual world of the internet and social media only exacerbates this problem.

13. The premodern world was not characterized by an endless pantheon of competing viewpoints. This is not to say that everyone agreed about everything. Rather, it is to note that the scope and scale of options were vastly less than it is today. See Charles Taylor, A Secular Age.

14. Of course, it has always been the case that every individual occupies a unique vantage point. What I am talking about is that, despite individual differences, the basic goods of society were far more common–in the sense shared–in past epochs than they appear to be today. See Charles Taylor, A Secular Age.

15. See my essay, The Good, Liberalism, and the Role of Preferences.

16. See Alasdair MacIntyre, Whose Justice? Which Rationality?, p. 342-343.

17. Ibid.

18. To be clear, I am not entirely sure that this is possible on a widespread public basis. It does, however, remain an option on the smaller scale of individual or group conversation. The examination of theoretical frameworks can only be done partially. We all suffer from blind spots. But at least knowing we have unarticulated structures of thought affecting us should be humbling and help us be more charitable toward others.

19. This point is difficult to overstate. There is a kind of suspension of disbelief that is necessary if we are to get a better grasp of different viewpoints. To be charitable toward one’s interlocutor requires the initial assumption that their view is coherent and consistent. I am indebted to Michael Wiitala for this observation, which he makes in a somewhat different context. See Michael Wiitala, “Truth and Falsehood in Plato’s Sophist”, Chapter 1.

20. I am not saying that discussion at the level of theoretical frameworks will result in agreement, and therefore society will progress to some sort of self-understanding hitherto unknown. Deep divides will still exist at that level. But the point of such dialog is to come to a better grasp of opposing viewpoints. That is, a better understanding of how it is possible to hold such views.

21. In this respect, Xunzi (荀子)–the ancient Chinese Confucian philosopher–may have been right when he said, “People’s nature is bad. Their goodness is a matter of deliberate effort.” See the translation by Eric L. Hutton, Xunzi: The Complete Text.

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