Let’s for a second imagine two very different people, with two very different backgrounds, studying the same thing in their own unique ways. In this case, it’s the sea. The first is a university professor, someone who is an expert on oceanography; the second is an old-fashioned fisherman.
The professor went out into the world, conquered its many challenges, eventually finding himself at the most prestigious of universities, learning at the edge of our collective knowledge. The fisherman, however, did what he was expected: He graduated from high school — itself quite an achievement in his community — but then, he took over from his father, tending to the waters that surrounded them, just as his own father had taken over from his father before him.
Over the decades, these men studied exactly the same domain but from different vantage points, with slightly different purposes. The professor knew all of the forces governing the bodies of water on Earth, but he spent little time in the actual sea. The fisherman, naturally, spent all of his time in the sea, but he knew little of the fancy terminology.
Now, let’s ask an interesting question: Who out of these men has a deeper understanding of how the sea works — the professor or the fisherman?
It’s a tough question, and it’s also an ambiguous one. If your first urge is to ask your own question in response to clarify what is meant by “a deeper understanding, ” I’d say that’s a good step. Context here matters. And yet, when in different forms this question is asked in philosophy (rationalism vs. empiricism) or in psychology (Do IQ tests measure something meaningful as it relates to the lived world? ) or in terms of the utility of logic (abstractions vs. reality), many people settle for one side and have a hard time reconciling the two in a way that does both of them justice.
Let’s
for a second imagine two
very
different
people
, with two
very
different
backgrounds, studying the same thing in their
own
unique ways.
In this case
, it’s the
sea
. The
first
is a university
professor
, someone who is an expert on oceanography; the second is an
old
-fashioned fisherman.
The
professor
went out into the world, conquered its
many
challenges,
eventually
finding himself at the most prestigious of universities, learning at the edge of our collective knowledge.
The
fisherman,
however
, did what he was
expected
: He graduated from high school — itself quite an achievement in his community —
but
then, he took over from his father, tending to the waters that surrounded them,
just
as his
own
father had taken over from his father
before
him.
Over the decades, these
men
studied exactly the same domain
but
from
different
vantage points, with
slightly
different
purposes. The
professor
knew
all of the
forces governing the bodies of water on Earth,
but
he spent
little
time in the actual
sea
. The fisherman,
naturally
, spent all of his time in the
sea
,
but
he knew
little
of the fancy terminology.
Now
,
let
’s ask an interesting
question
: Who out of these
men
has a deeper understanding of how the
sea
works — the
professor
or the fisherman?
It’s a tough
question
, and it’s
also
an ambiguous one. If your
first
urge is to ask your
own
question
in response to clarify what
is meant
by “a deeper understanding,
”
I’d say that’s a
good
step. Context here matters. And
yet
, when in
different
forms this
question
is asked
in philosophy (rationalism vs. empiricism) or in psychology (Do IQ
tests
measure something meaningful as it relates to the
lived
world?
)
or in terms of the utility of logic (abstractions vs. reality),
many
people
settle for one side and have a
hard
time reconciling the two in a way that does both of them justice.