[C]lassification cannot be embodied in, or reduced to, or
dissolved in, discriminant behaviour directed towards the classified objects,
but involves the use of symbols specific to the purpose. These symbols will be explicit
symbols: they will not be mistaken for the things classified; they will stand
off from the world whose contents are being classified. (Raymond Tallis 2000)
It’s almost
a platitude to say that representations come in all shapes and sizes, but it isn’t
a platitude to observe that there is no representation without structure. Even
in their most ephemeral and ethereal forms, words, images, models and
performances are far from immaterial, and when we consume them, their contours
rarely escape our notice. If not for this awareness of the differences between representations
and the things they are used to represent, there could be little, if anything
in the way of representations or acts of representing. A clone of an apple is just
another apple[1].
If on waking, we were to find ourselves in an identical copy of this world, we
would accept it as readily as this one. Interestingly, such a copy would not qualify
as an illusion because the concept of sameness
logically excludes illusion. If you surreptitiously swap your dog’s dinner bowl
with another of the same design, there is no illusion involved and no
representation either. So much for the suggestion that we might be dwelling in
a simulated universe!
Not only
are representations structured, they must be crafted, manufactured or otherwise
performed, and thus the skills necessary to do so must first be discovered, developed
and refined through social and environmental feedback. Nothing as sophisticated
as representation could just spring out of the evolutionary sandbox fully formed.
Deaf songbirds never learn to sing, let alone to pick-up the localised “dialects”
paraded by their chirruping friends (Marler 2004).
Without feedback, there could be no opportunity for the shaping or “grounding”
(Harnad 1990) of communication. There could be no right way and no wrong way of depicting,
characterising or even mimicking aspects of the environment. Even camouflage, which is arguably not a form of representation[2],
would be impossible, because there would be no constraining mechanisms guiding
its evolutionary development.
Perceptibility in Principle
Perceptibility in Principle
Must
representations always be perceptible? Can imperceptibly small images, models or
words still be representations? So long as a candidate representation remains
perceptible in principle, it seems perfectly reasonable to say that it qualifies as a representation. But if we divide a representation into fragments
and rearrange these in an unrecognisable form, then I think it is fair to say that they would no longer
qualify as representations.
"Imagine a painting cut up into small, almost
monochromatic bits which are then used as pieces in a jig-saw puzzle. Even when
such a piece is not monochromatic it would not indicate any three-dimensional
shape, but should appear as the flat colour patch. Only together with the other
pieces does it become a bit of blue sky, a shadow, a highlight, transparent or
opaque, etc. Do the individual pieces show us the real colours of the parts of
the picture?" (Wittgenstein, “Remarks on Colour” §60, 1977)
Data Processing and Storage
It might
be argued that the data stored on a hard drive is representational. At best, this
would be “representation” dressed up in a lab coat, not representation in its
ordinary non-technical attire. Many objects and patterns have representational
utility (i.e. they are apt for representational interpretation and use), but
they do not constitute representations unless we treat them as such. So for
example, the highly patterned structure of DNA is widely regarded as a code,
but few self-respecting biologists would wager that the “genetic code” is
anything other than a convenient metaphor for the exquisitely computable structures
of Guanine, Adenine, Thymine and Cytosine. Similarly, the facial movements of ordinary
speech are not representations in addition to the words we produce, but they
are nonetheless a visible component of speech and can be reliably interpreted as representations by lip readers.
So when
we say that photographs, videos and emails etc. are stored on digital media, it
needn’t follow that this storage is representational too. Computation relies on
the fact that we can convert analogue signals into the meaningless binary
states of digital processing and storage media. Think of Wittgenstein’s jigsaw
again. When the picture is disassembled, it no longer represents anything. Only
when the fragments are reassembled do they become an image once more. So even
though computers disassemble their various inputs in highly structured ways
(into what we commonly refer to as “data’), this structuring alone is not
sufficient to constitute representation. Data stored on digital media has to be
converted back into representational
form before we can recognise it as such.
According
to Jerry Fodor (1981): “There is no computation without representation.” This
assertion lies at the foundations of computationalism; the doctrine that our
brains are biological computing mechanisms. Fodor is half right. There can be
no computation without representation because computation is a human invention necessarily
dependent upon a history of cultural innovations involving the manipulation of
symbolic representations. If not for this thoroughly human knowhow we would
never have discovered how to create machines capable of saving us the trouble
of crafting, producing and manipulating (including computing) representations in
the first place.
0 comments:
Post a Comment