General Semantics and the Pastor

Prove It!

The case for facts first, then words, is il­lustrated in the following incident: A certain political leader was making an impassioned speech in a certain city about the economic progress of his country. He de­scribed with particular emphasis the new twenty-story skyscrapers on a certain street in a certain city.

A worker in the audience rose to correct the speaker. He lived in that city. Every day he walked on that street. He had never seen such skyscrapers.

"That's the trouble with workers like you," the speaker shouted angrily. "You waste your time in promenading the streets instead of reading the newspapers and learning what is going on in your country." '

Such false-to-fact language structure is typical of much of the communication used by mankind since Adam. When Aristotle wrote his remarks about the teeth of horses, he never thought about looking in the horse's mouth to see whether his language was true to facts; it was not. When Francis Bacon argued persua­sively that a wooden arrow would go into the side of a wooden ship farther than a metal-tipped arrow, he was using words without ref­erence to facts.

History is full of notions that have kept the minds of men captive. Architecture, aviation, steam engineering, et cetera, had to fight the stubbornness of men who believed words rather than facts.

Now and then experienced historians and archeologists are disturbed at the illustrative material presented by a certain type of preacher. Without a sensitive appreciation for facts, sen­sational illustrations are used merely for the purpose of attracting attention.

In Dr. Siegfried Horn's article, "Recent Dis­coveries Confirm the Bible," as delivered at the 1952 Bible Conference, reference is made to reputed discoveries that at first glance pre­sent strong evidence for many of our historical and doctrinal positions. These finds may satisfy the general audience for the present, but the truth is never strengthened by reports that are not true to fact. It is not difficult to imagine the emotional pain felt by a well-adjusted per­son who at first trusts the credibility of his preacher only to find that his words do not always fit life facts.

Korzybski crystallizes this struggle between words and life facts: Intensional orientations are based on verbal definitions, associations, etc., largely disregarding observations as if they would involve a "principle" of "talk first and never mind life facts." Extensional orientations are based on ordering observations, investigations, etc., first, and the verbalization next in importance. ²

The extensional-minded person develops an inquiring habit of scrutinizing mere statements of words. If someone says something is so, then there ought to be some way of seeing what is so. Words must correspond with life facts.

The ruts and grooves of narrow thinking are based on intensional thinking. Words are defined by words with no verification of life facts. Some people are prone to take words for granted, and by so doing, condition themselves for the wily seductions of propaganda. The intensional mind is influenced more by the man who is speaking than by what is said. The intensional mind is the superstitious mind.

This is a common weakness, and we find the advertising world taking full advantage of the situation. A product that is not selling rapidly can be made to sell phenomenally by changing the color scheme of the package or the name of the product. Descriptions of the value of the product are packed with words that incite a magical response in the intensional mind.

This principle confronts us in the ever-pres­ent challenge of advertising our evangelistic meetings, and in the general public relations of our churches. Do we produce what we ad­vertise? Are we really "nationally known Bible analysts" and "world travelers" in the sense that our non-Adventist friends interpret those attributes? Do honest observers see a gap be­tween what we describe and what we actually produce?

Lee notes that many personality disorders arise in the failure to view life extensionally:

Those who take refuge in private dream worlds, the man who believes he is forever conspired against by waiting enemies, those who suffer from delusions of grandeur, the chronically sick who find pleasure in the definitions of new illnesses, the temperamental who dodge responsibilities with hysterical attacks and nervous breakdowns, those overtaken with jealousy, etc.—in these the inten­sional orientation appears at its baldest.³

Wendell Johnson has devoted much of his book, People in Quandaries, to this basic prem­ise, that healthy, well-adjusted personalities are extensional thinkers, in touch with reality and squarely facing life facts. This gives the per­son a good understanding of himself and a sympathetic view of others.⁴

Several pertinent questions are asked in an article reviewing the contributions of general semantics up to 1952. A person's adjustment to life seems to be revealed by the answers to the following questions:

1. Does he ever go beyond his present premises and knowledge to face facts and theories which are different?

2. Does he respond in trigger-fashion, without analysis of situations, or does he exhibit the control which accompanies delay-of-reaction?

3. When faced with problems requiring solution does he tend to think by verbalization, projecting ready-made linguistic schemes onto the facts under consideration, or does he think by visualization, directing his attention to pictures and situations without words, thus involving the structural aspects unrestricted by the verbally defined categories? ⁵

In brief, the extensional-minded personality is well adjusted to himself and to others. He is slow to be prejudiced, clear in thinking through abstractions, and uses all the semantic devices of accuracy that have been briefly sur­veyed.

It Appears to Me

Thomas Hobbes gives us the theme of our next thought:

Perhaps judgment was nothing else but the com­position or joining of two names of things, or modes by the verb "is."

In understanding the problem of the dan­gerous "is," we see the practical contributions of many of the semantic devices and habits that have been reviewed. Stuart Chase observes that we should handle the word "is" as carefully "as a stick of dynamite."

We are face to face with indexing and dating and allness again. The damage is done by that little word "is," for no two people are exactly alike, and no two objects. The generic is not a full picture of the nonverbal person or object. The generic word "liberal" is a broader clas­sification of John„ but "liberal" is not John,. The "is" would be better translated as "may be called, or classified as." This infers that John, may be classified in additional ways be­sides "liberal."

Actually, we classify people or objects only after looking at them in some specific way. The person employing semantic rules is aware that there are other ways of looking at the same person or object. The life facts are varied, and our word structure must correspond with life facts and indicate the many classifications any person or object must have.

For example, Johnson points out that a child is not helped and no one is accurately informed when it is said of the child, "John, is a thief." It would be very unrealistic if John, were all thief. There are other sides of John_i, perhaps several admirable features. But hearing this blanket allness, he is likely to retaliate with something like this: "I don't like you either!" And so another human life is started down the "drainpipe of civilization. It doesn't take much if it happens often enough. Just as little drops of water will wear away a rock, so many little 'is's' will wear away a hope." ⁸

The sad aspect of this dangerous "is" is that it is totally a projection of the one making the statement. Out of the viewer's past habits of reading, and experiences of success and failure, the present judgment, good or bad, is projected on the person or object. Immediately we can see that each projection is only a partial picture at best, because no one sees all. To one poli­tician a certain man may be a patriot, a friend of the common man. In the mind of another politician the same person may be a traitor. In other words, naming a person or group does not completely cover the facts concerning him or them. It reveals only the partial view­point of the observer.

Perhaps there is much sound reasoning in the little couplet used among elementary school students: "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me." We will not react so quickly to the name callers if we remember this advice.

Another use of "is" expresses a false-to-fact relationship. For example: "Modern art is ugly," "The sunset is beautiful," "John, is cruel," "The pie is tasteless," "A three-week campaign is superficial." Korzybski points out the problem:

If we use a language of adjectives and subject-predicate forms pertaining to "sense" impressions, we are using a language which deals with entities inside our skin and characteristics entirely non­existent in the outside world. Thus the events out­side our skin are neither cold nor warm, green nor red, sweet nor bitter, but these characteristics are manufactured by our nervous system inside our skins, as responses only to different energy mani­festations, physico-chemical processes, etc. When we use such terms, we are dealing with characteris­tics which are absent in the external world, and build up an anthropomorphic and delusional world non-similar in structure to the world around us.⁹

Let us use this principle to analyze one of our examples. "Modern art is ugly." The ob­server is implying that ugly qualities reside in the object. However, if the ugly qualities reside in the painting, the next observer, and the next, should verify the first observer's con­clusions. This, sad to say, at times would not be true to fact.

What really happens is this: The various stimuli from the object and a judgment foamed from past experience produce various impres­sions finally labeled ugly. Actually, the art ap­pears ugly to the observer. This indicates that in some instances the source of ugliness is not outside the observer in the art, but inside the observer's nervous system.

We recognize that this premise of reasoning, if taken too far, and if applied in the case of sin, for instance, could become not only em­barrassing but a challenge to truth. Sin is re­bellion against God, whether or not the in­dividual senses it. The tragedy is that so many fail to recognize that sin has alienated them from the Source of life. Sin is more than an emotional reaction. It is a state of anarchy.

In our illustration, to make the word struc­ture correct to fact the observer might better have said, "Modern art appears to me to be ugly." How many ill feelings generated be­tween people would be avoided if the language used were true to facts. It appears to John₁ this way, but to Jan.e, it appears this way.

This principle may be what Shakespeare was suggesting when he said:

A jest's prosperity Iies in the ear

Of him that hears it,

never in the tongue

Of him that makes it.¹⁰

Understanding the danger of "is" can be very valuable in the training of children. John, says, "Spinach is awful." Mother, replies, "You mean, 'Spinach is awful to me.'" Jane, says, "Your office is too cold." Father, answers, "You mean, 'This office is too cold for me,' don't you, Jane? It seems quite comfortable to me."

Understanding the danger of predicating qualities, John, and Jane, will grow up toler­ant, free from bigotry, and well adjusted to life as it really is. The judgment of others will be scrutinized before they accept it at face value, for John, and Jane, will realize char­acteristics do not always exist in things, but sometimes only within the observer.

Lee summarizes the dangerous "is" by stat­ing that our main question is not, What "is" it? but, How may it be classified? How does it appear to you? "

Summary and Conclusion

We have touched lightly seven basic princi­ples of general semantics. There are more. But these seven could be summarized as questions that every mature personality will constantly use to bring meaning into communication. By doing so, he will be contributing to the adequate adjustment to life that happiness demands.

1. Did the speaker's words fit life facts? Did life turn out as he said it would? Or will it?

2. Regardless of what I think the words mean, what does the speaker or writer mean when he uses these words?

3. What facts is the speaker or writer over­looking when he makes this generalization? Are there not other possibilities?

4. Does the deduction that the speaker is making fit life facts today? When did they, if ever? Where?

5. Are there not more than two choices? Knowing that every man or object is unique, what are the specific characteristics of this sub­ject?

6. Is this so just because he said it is so? What are the facts? Where is his proof?

7.  It may appear that way to you, but what are the characteristics that cause you to feel that way?

It seems obvious to me that these basic prin­ciples, rightly understood, will contribute to the maturing of a well-adjusted personality. Frustrations are avoided, prejudices are elim­inated, and many delusions cease to be.

Consequently, the communication of mean­ing will become as successful as is humanly possible. We will face life squarely and trans­mit what we see accurately. Because we give one another accurate pictures of life facts, we will be able to adjust ourselves quickly and with optimal satisfaction. Children will under­stand parents; neighbor will better appreciate neighbor; conference president and local pas­tor will more quickly find rapport; through the preacher the congregation will hear the Word in truth, which is the only reason for existing as a church.

Language may be compared with the spear of Amfortas. The wounds that language inflicts upon human thought cannot be healed except by language itself.¹²

In conclusion, as the new generation adds more of the answer to the question "What is truth?" we will find the principles of general semantics making a considerable contribution.

(End of Series)