Current Issue: Spring 2007 (Vol I)
Conventions of Communication
Within the confines of the human mind lies a certain paradox of communication. The neurons and synapses, while physically structured for the most efficient anatomical function, do not effectively represent the essence of an idea. Human minds are fundamentally free-form in their thought processes; as a result, thoughts themselves rarely follow a linear pathway. In most situations, when one thinks of a concept and begins an inner-discourse, these processes are scarcely coherent to an outsider. Experiment with this idea: try to form an idea of God or some Higher Being and extrapolate as to Its existence. Surely this is no easy feat, and your mind must grapple with the idea before a stream of thoughts trickle and spark. However, at this point, there are sentences left unfinished, random words bursting out of mind-matter, images that chase a canvas of black—not necessarily in that order, of course, which is precisely the point. Concepts born within the human mind—concepts at their purest form—are not linear. Why, then, must we reduce these ideas to a less pure, linear format for the rest of the world?
The answer lies in the biological and chemical makeup of the brain. Simply speaking, the nerve connections are like pixilated newspaper photographs. Each pixel represents a single synapse—a single reaction— that, from picture to picture, stays exactly the same; the complex combination of all these pixels together creates a unique photograph. The ways in which the synapses are connected create the concept, not the individual synapse whose chemical composition remains the same from pathway to pathway. Because of the myriad of possible synaptic pathways, having two of the exact same free-form thoughts is practically impossible, just as two identical photographs are practically impossible. Herein lies the difficulty: devising the purest communication of a virtually inimitable concept from one human mind to another.
While the most faithful communication would be the use of the exact same neural pathway, the probability of even discovering a way to stimulate this sort of reaction— let alone efficiently producing the pure concept—is, realistically speaking, inconceivable. For this reason, we have allowed purity to be subordinate to communication. In order to effectively communicate an idea to a second party, the human race has set forth an unspoken convention: the linear thought process. Of course, this linear pathway does not effectively capture the pure concept, but it does allow the fingers of comprehension a slight grasp. A conventionally agreed upon pattern of thinking accommodates all patterns of synapses and, in turn, every individual. Here we are given the basic structure and formula for language. The concept that swims in the crevices of a brain attaches itself to words and images that manipulate the concept into phrases, phrases into sentences, sentences into coherent paragraphs, paragraphs into explanations, and explanations into the tangible, comprehensive idea. This simplification—the linear thought process—is the human mind’s medium for communication.
Fall back upon the example given previously of the existence of God. Let your mind follow a train of thought without any constraints; let it run wild, but be aware of every image, moment, and jump. When the random jumps cease and you start to form coherent linear thoughts, take note. Now, express in one complete sentence what you have concluded. Perhaps your conclusion might sound similar to this, “There is a Higher Being and It is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent,” or perhaps even to this, “There is no Higher Being, and any ‘evidence’ of Its existence is hypocritical or defunct.” Either way, that one sentence seems to summarize the intricate process in your brain that allowed you to come to that conclusion. In that case, the words standing for abstract ideas that have been linked together in a sentence provide a collective representation of a concept, but not its pure form. The words one uses to translate a concept into an idea are simply the black-and-white outline of the pure concept.
Communication as such transmits the base form of a concept, degraded and simplified for common understanding. While communication is absolutely necessary, a further, more intensive process is required to capture the blur surrounding the concept that is not contained in the linear format. This process calls for a less linear approach to communication called expression: the process used to subsidize communication in the formulation of an abstract concept. Communication filters the idea, but expression flushes it out to its fullest tangible potential. Language, written or spoken, is the medium for communication; art, in all its forms, is the medium for expression. Thus symphonic music, interpretive dance, watercolor and pastel on canvas—to name a few—are all methods that evolved from a need to supplement communication. Expression, while not necessarily as precise as communication, draws much nearer to the pure forms of ideas. While most of these art forms follow some sort of convention, they quench the thirst of the active mind in pursuit of a pattern of thought more closely resembling the mind’s own true pattern. Art provides a secondary explanation, a secondary attempt at conveying fully one’s abstract idea in its elemental and compound forms.
Both language and art are essential conventions of communication. Each convention, as a different tool for conveying a concept, adds a layer of understanding to abstract cognition. Language systematizes an idea into a succinct series of words and phrases intended for facilitated transfer between minds. Art takes an abstract concept, and instead of forcing it into a systematic, linear progression, breaks from that convention into a convolution—spirals of thought coiling one on top of the other in whorls—in an attempt to evoke a corresponding process in another’s mind. Each convention assists the communication and purification of our human ideas. While no form of communication can entirely capture the concept born of the mind without marring or tampering with it, adding as many layers of comprehension as possible certainly aides in the communication. A combination of these layers, of course, would be the ideal form of communication.
To the great benefit of the human race, there is one particular art form that happens to facilitate the use of language in its creation: literature. In literature, communication and expression are combined, resulting in an exceedingly powerful effect on the audience. Rather than turning an abstract idea into a concise series of straight-forward sentences, as happens in strict communication, or reverting to the opposite end of the spectrum by throwing words to the wind and allowing whorls of thought to appear through mediums, as happens in non-verbal expression, literature strikes a balance between the two. Literature uses language in an oblique manner, approaching a specific concept at a variety of angles, forcing the audience to combine the indirect approaches and wrap them together. When the pieces are juxtaposed, the concept arises within the reader back in its abstract form. Literature makes the abstract concrete in order to impose the abstract on the reader.
When Harold Bloom declared, “Reading the very best writers—let us say Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Tolstoy—is not going to make us better citizens. Art is perfectly useless, according to the sublime Oscar Wilde, who was right about everything,” he did not take into account the significance of the conventions of communication—their structure and beauty in accord with one another. A good citizen is one who uses his talents and persuasions to better the human race. A good citizen must convey his ideas to the universal community in a way that adeptly embraces beneficial concepts to the fullest potential of that community. The only way to meet this need is through layers of communication and expression. Language, a means of communication; art, a means of expression; literature, a complex networking of communication and expression. Without any of these conventions, dreams would not be realized and the human race would not progress.
Erin Eighan is a freshman in the school of Arts and Sciences majoring in English with a minor in Linguistics. Her academic pursuits include questioning the human need for art in a world where a logical, linear form of communication takes precedence. This essay expresses her concern for the topic and inadvertently led her to her chosen course of study. While she is still waiting to see where this topic leads her, she is also interested in pursuing a career in publishing or law.