Clarity - about my need for clarity

Many times over the last year, I’ve started articles for this blog. Some were drafts of a few pages, some remained just a collection of images about my key questions, some were notes headed, ‘A Wordly Exploration topic?’ But nothing has made it to publication. 

As you may have noticed.

It’s been a rough two years for me for finding time and energy and routine to write. Floods, illness, loss and grief. Initially, I managed to post a few articles, but then it became too much.

I tinkered with ideas. I put them down.

A year - then more - ticked by since the last substantial article. Was the Wordly Explorations blog heading for oblivion, like so many others? 

This week is two years since my home was flooded, and two years since this blog went on the backburner. This post is about what I learned through this hiatus.

Emotions shifted

Previous to the challenging year of 2022, writing had never been a struggle and time at the desk was mostly enjoyable. Sure, sometimes it felt as though I were wading through a quagmire of words and shifting meanings. But it was so satisfying to then clarify the core issues about a particular word. That feeling of satisfaction of clarity was definitely my main driver.

The period of dealing with disaster after problem after major issue during 2022 finally passed. Over that year, I just had to push myself to keep going, just to get through the tedious but necessary jobs, e.g. post flood cleanups. I then allowed myself a good break from writing, I knew I was tired. 

But over 2023, I started to feel a range of emotions any time I thought about returning to the blog and about sitting at my computer. A sense of resistance and irritation. 

Initially, I put these feelings down to exhaustion. Examples of wordly misuses and abuses still sparked my interest. I saved some articles with these examples and kept notes in a folder called 'WE holding till back'.

But I didn’t go back. I didn't want to write; I stayed away from the computer.

Something had changed. But what?  

I waited for clarity about my writing about clarity! And I hoped that with clarity, I could return to the blog with energy and enthusiasm. Or let go of it with this new understanding.

Topics too big; too little focus?

Some months of a complete writing break didn’t change my feelings about returning to the blog. Lots of resistance, and almost resentment.

It had occurred to me as I ground my way through article after article on ‘truth’, that topics like this might just be too big for my blog (or really, too big for my life). 

I’m well aware I haven’t read enough on any of the timeless philosophical topics to really grapple with the centuries of thought on such large topics. 

But I can’t retrofit a classical education into my life! And I don't want to start now. But equally, I don’t want to skate over the surface, and I would prefer to avoid the naïve or simplistic assumptions about words that send me on an exploration!

Then I recalled my aim: exploring the assumptions and issues behind our word use, what that means about us, and why these lead to problems. 

Maybe I was more than tired; I had burn out from straying too often and too far from this planned focus. Perhaps, all I needed to do was be more judicious in what I choose to explore if I want to fit into a regular publication schedule. 

I sat with that idea for a while.

Going back to my purpose for writing

The purpose of the Wordly Explorations blog is to investigate what our use of words reveals about what we take a word to mean, how we change meanings through use, etc., and how we often use words counter to what we say it to mean. ‘We’, in these explorations, means our contemporary western culture. 

A key motivator for my explorations is to investigate how advertisers and propagandists abuse our everyday words to manipulate us to buy something or do what they want.

I would never assert what a word SHOULD mean, that represents an absolutist concrete view of language that I don’t hold. I would never claim that I could write ‘the definitive’ statement on e.g. truth; instead I want to explore what our contemporary use reveals and why that can be problematic.

However, it is challenging to write about the distinction between what we say a word ‘means’ (dictionary and the formal processes of defining) and what our actual use of a word reveals about its meaning (dialogue, writing, ads, reporting).

This writing requires extracting a word from its context and examining this word itself – word abstraction.

Wordly abstraction as wanking

I have always loved this activity of abstraction: taking a word out of its context to analyse it as ‘thing’ on its own. 

Starting from examples of use, extracting a word into an abstraction allows me to explore the conceptual baggage of a word. It requires putting aside its supposed meaning while considering its history, use and misuse. 

Word abstraction is not something that everyone can (or wants to) do. Not everyone can hold a word and concept out of context, bring clues from the context, and explore etymology, social theory, propaganda techniques, etc. In my experience, if I try to discuss the implications of our varying conceptual meanings of a word (e.g. ‘free’, ‘gender’, ‘alternate’), many people will base their responses only on their (correct!) definition; that is, if they are even interested to discuss it!  

And if I persist, the most common response I get is that what I love to do is just word wanking. 

They can’t see any point. They think I am amusing myself with a futile activity. They don’t want to think about word meaning as less that absolute or concrete. Occasionally, someone will also react negatively to what they consider as me making a claim to intellectual superiority (elitist wanker!)

I don’t care though. I’ve been aware of this all my life: that I like to take a perspective on words different from most other people. It is an absolute passion for me. 

I just know I can’t talk to most people about it. 

For years, I’ve had a friend who also enjoyed tossing around conceptual explorations and word abstractions. But that’s another thing that’s changed in the last two difficult years: that person is no longer around anymore. 

Somehow, wordly abstraction seems way less fun on my own. 

And now, the wanking analogy seems to be apt. 

Futility smacking me in the face

More recently, I’ve begun to see there are two groups of people who think wordly abstractions are futile. 

First there is the type of person (above) who cannot hold this type of abstraction, and from this perspective, they consider my passion of no value. I’m very familiar with interacting with these people - I know not to bother trying! 

And then there is a much smaller group who do understand wordly abstractions, and think it is futile anyway. Not because wordly explorations are not revealing, particularly about propaganda and manipulation in advertising, etc., but because they do not point to anything we can do about it. 

Over the last year or so, I’ve had friends indirectly question my explorations. They have implied that there is no point in thinking about what words mean in isolation, or in abstraction; there is only the social context of use¹. Because that’s what we have to deal with, and that is where change will have to come from. And that, in real life, change doesn’t come from clarity, it comes from mess; it comes from all sorts of unclear and muddled ideas and beliefs².

I have found this very painful. Not because I disagree about how ‘change’ happens. Not because of the implied criticism of my deep passion for abstraction, although it stung a bit. But because the sting I felt forced me (eventually) to face something buried deeply: I did hope my writing might contribute to making positive social change. Something I had never fully admitted to myself before. 

In the past, when I have been challenged that wordly explorations are futile or just intellectual wanking, I have defended myself by saying, yeah, but who cares? You can still enjoy something even if it doesn’t have a purpose, can’t you? It’s fine to do things just for fun – crosswords, painting, listening to pop music, skipping stones, and wordly explorations – right? 

But I wasn’t being honest with myself. I never believed Wordly Explorations was merely playing with abstractions. 

Very gradually, I realised that deep down, I was hoping to change the world with writing about word clarity!! A realisation that once exposed to light, I found laughable.

And I don’t like being laughed at, even by myself. 

The pen might be mightier than the sword, but… 

Nathan W Pile art

But writing can have an impact on what people do surely? I know other people's writing has impacted me. And isn't the pen supposed to be mightier...?

According to Wikipedia, the pen being mightier means that speaking and writing ‘are more effective than violence as a means of social or political change’. It makes sense that if people come to understand and agree with political ideas (through the pen), they will accept a social change. And if people don’t agree with political ideas, it will require long term violence (the sword) to suppress their resistance to a social or political situation. 

Well, the pen might be mightier than the sword, but the slow, thoughtful, clarifying pen is no match for the brash, dog-whistling, simplistic pen. 

From my vantage point of 'not writing', over the last year I have paid more attention to how some wield the pen as a weapon, a tool of destruction, a powerful form of manipulation of those for whom the writer has no respect at all. In fact, the pen (writing) can sometimes encourage the sword (encouraging violence against those with other ideas).

The well-resourced campaign to corrupt word meaning

It seems to me that propaganda is having a heyday. So much of what I read in popular and news media is twisted and intentionally manipulative. Very intelligent minds are dedicated to manipulating others to their own ends – be it political, economic or just the thrill of creating drama. 

For example, during Australia’s 2023 Indigenous Voice referendum, I carefully read heaps of ‘No’ campaign articles and materials. They were shocking: full of words misused to warp a fairly simple ‘Yes’ message. It was chilling to read the powerful and deliberate manipulation of words by those ‘seeding’ the ‘No’ campaign (Peta Credlin, for example). They warped the meaning of the words (like ‘divisive’, ‘united’, ‘democratic’); they manipulated words about Australia’s history (‘discrimination’, ‘special’); and they so blatantly (to me) capitalised on ignorance about Australia's constitution though clever manipulation of words.

It was hard to watch as the ‘No’ campaign ‘won the Referendum by muddying, misrepresenting, contradicting and lying about what the Voice is and its consequences’, according to Dr Victoria Fielding. 

And to a careful reader, it was soon apparent that the issue of indigenous representation wasn’t specifically the target of the muddying and lies. It seemed that the ‘No’ campaigners were themselves being manipulated by some very well-resourced actors who stood to gain by keeping the population confused and antagonistic, fomenting anti-government sentiment, casting doubt about our democratic institutions, keeping Aboriginal Australians marginalised, and ensuring that people are unable to unite and resist the industries driving us toward climate and ecological collapse.

In the face of that intent and those enormous propaganda resources, what could I write to point out the misuse of the words themselves? 

Losing faith in words

Australia suffered a terrible loss in October 2023, many people saw their life’s work crushed, our collective psyche was wounded, and me – I lost my faith in words. 

I was already rocked by my only recently recognised deluded hope my writing could foster positive change. But the 2023 referendum, and many other examples, made me seriously question my puny efforts. 

Seeing up close how appealing the simplistic and distorted use of words was for so many people I knew, asking them to clarify what they thought (they couldn’t), trying to talk about the misuse of words like ‘united’ (and failing) – it was like being hit when I was already down. 

If I had any remaining illusions about the power and potential benefits of exploring word use, misuse and abuse, they were dashed. The resources actively working against clarity are immense. 

My little pond scratchings have little hope of influencing anyone. 

Amongst the many hurts and losses of 2022 and 2023, it took me a while to identify this specific loss. 

Finding clarity, finding grief

So, it seems that all this time I had been avowing that my writing was mainly for my own entertainment and satisfaction, I had also somewhere harboured a belief that my tinkering with wordly abstractions might make a difference - to someone or to many. 

Without admitting it to myself, I had hoped that Wordly Explorations might provide the impact on others that I have experienced when reading amazing and clarifying word analysis work.  

My hiatus from writing this blog, challenges from friends, and giving more attention to the (often terrifying) world of word manipulation around me, allowed me to see I had an underlying and irrational belief that clarity through writing could change people’s behaviour. 

Yes, completely irrational. I don’t think it’s true. Oh the contradictions that we can all hold in our thinking!

Clarity is not what impacts people’s behaviour at all, I know that. People more often act based on muddled ideas and vague concepts, their unmet material needs (for a job, for food), and very often from emotions including fear and apprehension about change. (All of which are easily manipulated!)

Through writing this blog post, I worked out that the feelings of resistance and irritation I felt when pondering the blog were actually loss and grief. This included the loss of a naïve belief I hadn’t even acknowledged that I had. A sense that somehow, something that I wrote might contribute to making the world better. 

It was gutting to bring this to light. The loss was enormous, and I have only just begun to grieve.

But now I have found clarity, ha ha! 

My purpose for seeking clarity in word use

I am drawn to clarification. Examples of word misuse and abuse jump out at me all the time. I am motivated to find clarity because I see the misuse of words is very often an effort to manipulate me (and others).

Once I understand the nature of the wordly misuse or how words and ideas have been manipulated, it makes me feel better. I can put someone else’s behaviour into a coherent picture of the world; I can hazard a guess at their motivations. I can resist their attempts to manipulate me.

But it doesn’t provide any basis for doing anything differently.

Will I keep writing?

So, it is sufficient to seek clarity? Without hoping for an impact of the exploration and whatever I might find? 

It is for me. I am passionate about it. I love words and I love exploring the way we humans use them, change them, manipulate them, etc. The lack of clarity, the misuse of a word, or the use of the one word with two different meanings, etc., continues to jump out at me as I read or go about my day.

But do I need to publish my personally clarifying wordly explorations? Is there any point; can there be any actual effect of sharing this writing? I'm still not sure.

I’m not seeking reassurance or compliments. I’m trying to work out how to spend my life. Things are going well, and life is calm. Impediments to writing have all disappeared! 

But, at this moment, I can’t see much point in writing about instances of people misusing words to justify their behaviour, or to manipulate or cheat other people, etc., when this type of exploration (and my format) does not appeal to many, will have limited to no impact, and more particularly when those same people, with enormous resources, are hell-bent on making things less clear. 

So, will I keep publishing my Wordly Explorations? You’ll have to wait and see, just like me.

I'm thinking maybe I just need a little more time to grieve. 

Footnotes

1. Add that challenge to the old analytical-continental philosophy debate. In summary, the difference between analytic and continental philosophy can be seen in their approaches and priorities in philosophical inquiry, with analytic philosophy focusing on clarity and precision, while continental philosophy emphasizes interpretation and the cultural context. The advantages and disadvantages of these two fundamental methods of a philosophical cognition are of course open for a wonderful argument. I tend to think that both methods are equivalent and important.
2. Of course, maybe my writing has not been clear enough: I don’t see that abstraction is the end point. My aim is to draw the abstraction back into the social use for greater clarity. My opinion is that improving clarity in the social context requires the abstraction first.

Images

• Gladioli by wanderingnome [CC BY-NC-ND] https://www.flickr.com/photos/wanderingnome/8647772848/
• Dying flower [free use] https://www.publicdomainpictures.net/pictures/20000/velka/wilted-flower.jpg 
• Couch photo, no source provided
• Sue Fitzmaurice saying, Live Life Happy [CC BY-SA-NC] https://www.flickr.com/photos/78592755@N06/27240885654
• Nathan W Pile [image sourced from Facebook] https://www.nathanwpyle.art/ 
• Flower, Dead, Wither image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay [Free use] https://pixabay.com/photos/flower-dead-wither-rose-death-316437/ 
• Sophocles AZQuotes.com. Wind and Fly LTD, 2024.[Used under terms] https://www.azquotes.com/quote/1276626  
• Woman and Grief, Cemeterie by x1klima [CC BY-ND] https://www.flickr.com/photos/x1klima/31574918385/