So. Are you gonna take a stand on something, or what?

Where does this leave us? How do we know what is true and what isn't true? Is there even an objective truth that exists? Is it possible for there to be a "your truth" and a "my truth" which are different and yet both true?

My assertion is that we gain knowledge in a combination of ways. The appropriation of knowledge is a complex process. I suppose that I am more postmodern than not. That is to say that if I had to pick one of the epistemological criteria described in my previous posts as the most significant, I would say that it is our subjectivity.

One of the most, perhaps even the most, fundamental reality of human existence is the fact that we are subjective beings. From the moment we become human (and identifying that is a discussion for another years worth of days, but we'll get to it eventually), we find ourselves located in space and in time, with a body and, more specifically, a brain to which we will be joined for the remainder of our life. Our experiences change our biology: at a minimum, they create neural pathways in our brain every moment of every day. Sometimes, though, they can change other parts of our biology, as well. When I was in the sixth grade, I received an injury to my lower back which impacts the kinds of physical activities in which I am able to engage, even now. Even if we are more than our physical bodies (again, a topic for another day or so), our bodies and especially our brains are an essential part of who we are.

As a result, whenever we engage in attempts to learn about the world in which we live, the people, animals, plants, fungi, and unicellular organisms that populate it, and the God who may or may not have created it and/or continue to sustain it, we can only see that world from wherever it is we are located. When I sit down to have a conversation with someone, I can only see a part of the room in which we are sitting at any given moment. My conversation partner may well know what is happening behind me, but I can only learn that by changing my field of vision. Some rooms I can stand just outside of and see the entire area inside it, other rooms are so large that no matter where I stand I can still only see a very small part.

When it comes to literal rooms and physical reality, we are much better at taking stock of to what information we really have access, of what is outside our field of vision, and of what objects impact our access to visual data. We are much less adept at noticing these same features of more abstract landscapes. How, for example, does our cultural frame of reference teach us to interpret a person who is yelling at us? Here, in Minnesota (and throughout much of America), we would most likely be insulted or threatened. In Israel, it might be part of an incredibly productive business meeting. Even the way in which we understand knowing is culturally informed. In our individualistic culture, subjectivity of the individual is seen as significant. In a more collectivistic culture, knowledge may be filtered through what is best for the group or what a leader perceives to be best.

Please note that I do not mean this emphasis on subjectivity to degenerate into solipsism or nihilism. I cannot refute either position on a rational basis. Both perspectives are ultimately untestable. I do reject them, though, from a purely pragmatic perspective. The simple fact is that I refuse to believe that my existence ultimately does not exist. I similarly refuse to believe that I live in a world that is purely the twisted product of my own mind. (Obviously, since I am aware of typing this, I am the one who would truly exist in such a world.) There are many things about this world that would be different if I could simply change it by an effort of my will. Perhaps my Arete is simply not high enough. (Some of you will get that joke).

So, what am I asserting, in that case. I believe that there is an objective reality in which we are immersed and of which we are a part. I believe that any knowledge we have about any part of that reality, however, including self-understanding, is filtered through our subjective frame of reference. As a result, what we learn is not some sort of undistorted truth which is equally true for all people. It is located within a time and within a place.

Now, in order to more accurately gain a picture of the reality around us, it is imperative that we turn to other people so that we can learn what the world looks like from their own frame of reference. This will involve turning to people with different experiences than our own. Teachers, for example, hopefully have a significant amount of experience in the discipline they teach. We can learn from their experience by listening to what they have to say. (Note that this is essentially the premodern approach of learning truth from authority.) We can also listen to people who view the world differently than we do (perhaps because they are situated in a different cultural, economic, life stage, or gender locus than we are). Here the person is not an authority on the matter, simply someone sitting in a different part of the room. We must always remember, however, that those to whom we are listening are also subjective beings and we would be wise to consider what their subjective frame of reference is.

Another way we can gain a more accurate picture of reality is that, when we make observations about reality, we can attempt to limit the number of variables which will influence the outcome of a particular event. This helps us to more clearly understand the relationships among different aspects of reality. (Note that this is the way in which scientists test their theories in accordance with the scientific method: the quintessential expression of the modernist worldview.) By restricting variables, we can limit the number of potential interpretations of a specific event, which gives us a better chance of finding a more accurate interpretation.

In the end, every moment of our life is steeped in interpretation. When we see things, our brain interprets electrical impulses which proceed from our eyes in response to light hitting our retinas. We then interpret the significance of what we see, hear, smell, taste, and touch and give each piece of data some sort of meaning. We don't hear people walking up behind us, we hear the sound of hollow sound of shoes on a marble floor, each percussion louder than the previous one. We interpret these discrete events and come to the conclusion that a person is approaching us.
We interpret the tempo and the rate at which the volume increases to determine how fast the person is moving. Next we answer other contextual questions. Where are we? Why are we there? Are we permitted to be there? Are we expecting someone? All of these questions give us clues to who is approaching and what their response to our presence might be.

This is far too short a treatment for so complex an issue as the mechanics of knowing, but it gives, hopefully, enough of a sketch for us to move forward. I look forward to any dialogue which this may prompt. The comments section is just below. I only ask that you be willing to take ownership of your words by having an account to identify you.

In my next post, barring some significant clarification to this post which further discussion might prompt, I will address some of the implications that arise from this proposal.