If the world is inherently knowable by the human mind -- or even if it is a knowable construction of the human mind -- then it would not be inappropriate to categorize it as a riddle. For in any riddle the answer lies hidden in the question. This is why philosophers always talk about asking the "right" questions.
-Priam's Pride
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
^_^ There is still so much that we don't know about this world, or others that may exist, for that matter. So can one say that it's truly knowable?
I'm sure there will always be more to learn.
♥
To be knowable is not also to be known. It is to bear the possibility of being known. I think that there is a great deal that is knowable that is still not known. This especially pertains to individuals. While completely new ideas are relatively rare, original ideas are very common. That is, I may come to know something on my own that someone else also came to know before me, but that I had no knowledge about. In this way, there is never a completion of knowledge.
However, the very fact that we always seem to ask "Why?" of the world entails that we do believe that it can be known. The question, though, also entails that we do not think we know the answer.
As the aphorism suggests, to be able to formulate the question is also, in some way, to give away what kind of answer there will be. If I ask you "How much?" You will respond with at quantity. If I ask you "Where?" you will respond with at place. As soon as I specify the question, I have already narrowed down the types of possible answers. If I ask you "Where is the remote control?" then I expect (or at least hope) that you know the answer. That answer will not be one that is merely narrowed down; it will be a single, determinate place.
So in asking the question of you, I assume that you are competent to answer it determinately -- or at least to point me in the direction of a possible answer. But if I ask you a question that does not seek to be answered by its asking, then it would seem that that question really only bore the grammatical shape of a question. Instead, it would be something else. Perhaps it would be a declarative statement in disguise, or perhaps an ironic joke, or even a mere courtesy. In all these cases, if I ask the question without seeking an answer to it, then I am not really asking a question.
So when we ask a question of the world, who exactly do we think will respond with a determinate answer? It appears that we personify the world. We treat it like a person that can communicate various useful bits of knowledge to us. If poked and prodded enough, we can not only find out how it works; we can also use it. The use to which we have put the world seems to be proof enough for us that the world is able to be put to use. And this use occurs through the recording and predicting of regularities. The fact that these regularities are recorded suggests that there really are such regularities -- so we predict based upon them. Thus, we really do believe that the world is capable of being known. This much should be obvious by the fact that we are so willing to give meaning to regular events and try to predict future regularities and their causes. Yes, we are obsessed with betting on the future, even if our bets only wager monopoly money.
At the end of the day, whether the world is, in fact, knowable is really quite irrelevant, because we simply cannot relinquish the belief that it is. For to believe that the world is knowable is to believe that our knowledge of it confirms its existence. You do believe the world exists, don't you?
♥
Post a Comment