Something
a bit different for today’s post: this
is a sketch of an essay I tried to write many years ago, at a time when I was
wrestling with initial dismay over the nature of working as a professional in
my field. Some of the ideas need further
fleshing out, with more concrete examples given to illustrate the points I am
trying to make.
Readers
are warned that the material is fairly theoretical—not so much horror or
fantasy as sociology and philosophy. But
isn’t thinking deeply about life and work more horrifying than fiction anyway? I hope the questions that I am asking are at
least relevant to you: What does it mean to be an expert in some field of
knowledge? Of what does this expertise consist?
How is it acquired? Does the
notion of being an expert have any actual legitimacy or reality?
These
questions are epistemological, a version of ‘how do we know what we know’, but
applied to the nature of work, or concretely, employment. More
coarsely: how do you know what you know,
and why should you be paid for this knowledge?
1. It seems possible that the concept of an
expert, a person with specialized and reliable knowledge, even wisdom,
originated alongside the notion of a god or gods—some idea about deity. In the version I am most familiar with “…God
created the heavens and the earth…And God said ‘Let there be light,’ and there was
light.” To this day, the nature and
actions of this God have seemed capricious and incomprehensible at times, thus
requiring very early on the development of specialists such as various prophets
and priests, and later theologians, to explain His mysterious ways. Who would presume to do this, in the absence
of credentials or licensure? Visions,
miracles and suspensions of natural law were helpful in this regard. Sadly, this career path is not available to most
modern day clergy. Thus the beginnings
of professional expertise are rooted in religious revelation.
2. Though God and his various interpreters were
the original experts, there have been many others since that time, though none
have achieved quite as dramatic a result—the creation of the earth and
everything in it. To be fair, in early history
there were great ‘doers’, mythological human heroes who accomplished memorable
feats: they conquered others, founded
civilizations, and discovered agriculture, architecture and other civilized
arts. Their spectacular successes were
the demonstration of their expertise.
Their actions and achievements spoke louder
than their words, which were likely to be gruff and monosyllabic. However, with the advance of civilization, it
has been our challenge and misfortune that our expertise must rely more and
more on words, that is language, as
opposed to remarkable actions—and not at all on various suspensions of natural
law.
3. So we rely on words—special words,
specialized terminology, professional jargon—to convey our expertise and
persuade others of it. We are emulating
the Ultimate Expert in the Sky, who reportedly created the entire universe
simply by speaking it into existence. We
fall far short of that level of professional skill, of that ‘glory of God’. Our various professional languages merely create
the rationale for our claim on limited resources, and deny access to others who
do not know our words. Those necessarily
denied access to our practice become our customer base—the laypeople who need
our specialized service and knowledge.
Over millennia we have developed elaborate educational and certification
procedures to ensure that economic privileges for various classes of experts
are enshrined in custom and tradition. But
does a specialized vocabulary ensure the presence of actual knowledge, talent
or skill?
4. Admittedly there must be a handful of ancient,
archetypal professions that entail a demonstrable specialization of knowledge
and skill. As human beings, we know
intuitively what these are: hunter,
farmer, parent, healer, leader, scribe, builder, teacher, defender, thief—perhaps
a few more—custodian? (Our primordial parents and siblings—Adam,
Eve, Cain, Abel, and Seth—occupied themselves in just two professions: animal husbandry and horticulture, although Cain’s
descendents were the founders of music, metal working, and livestock keeping.) It is relatively easy to see what any one of
these professions is able to accomplish. To the extent that our work departs
from or is distant from this core of
expertise, these archetypal professions, we will feel anxiety, insecurity,
confusion and a sense of meaninglessness.
Or we will be unemployed, as
too many of us now are.
5. This is a modern dilemma, one that will
become more acute as we endure the unfolding of the “age of information”. The dilemma arises from the fact that our
work has become more abstract and symbolic—less concrete and observable with respect
to result or product. We will be forced
to rely more and more on language to
justify our expertise and hence our very existence as workers. Ever more obscure credentials and certifications
and specializations will be required that are ultimately driven by a linguistic
process. Basically, it is in figurative
language or metaphor that we will
seek justification for our specialized knowledge. To paraphrase Genesis above, “And the economy
said ‘Let there be experts,’ and there were experts.” A metaphorical process produces the
specialized language and concepts we rely on to establish expertise in many of our
chosen fields.
6. Metaphor is a hazardous and inefficient form
of communication—often intentionally so. It essentially involves a comparison, not a statement of actual
knowledge. Metaphors indicate what
something is like, but not what it is.
Look for the application of metaphorical language and thinking wherever
some intangible aspect of human life is being explained, advocated, or argued. Poets, advertisers, theologians, politicians,
and psychologists use metaphors all the time.
In their work one can see the effort to communicate an understanding of
something incomprehensible or unfamiliar in terms of something recognizable and
sensory based, (that is, a concrete experience of some kind). Yet this is an implied comparison just the
same, and not the actual thing itself.
At best, metaphor may be an effective teaching language, as well as
providing the raw material for creativity in literature and the arts. More typically these days, it provides the
basis and rationale for purchasing ever more intangible goods and services—from
‘experts’ like you and me.
To
recap: the concept of ‘expertise’ originated
in religious revelation. With the
development of increasingly complex societies, human creativity with language
developed what in many cases have been ersatz bodies of knowledge through
metaphorical thinking . But not everyone
can work in one of the ancient, archetypal professions—the ones all of us recognize
as having real expertise and skill. How will
the rest of us make a living in an economy the produces more and more
intangible goods and services? What is
the special knowledge or skill we can offer society? Is our knowledge valued? Are we?
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