Define More Terms
Define Terms
I think people should define terms more often. There’s an idea that introducing terminology is bad, that it should be done only when necessary, that it adds unnecessary clutter to a space. I’ve done enough math to know this sentiment has merits. But I’ve also done enough math to know that once in a while, throwing in an unnecessary definition or two for the sake of building intuition can be really helpful.
Language is fundamentally a constraint. I’ve written my fair share of (outdated but relevant) essays on the nature of language, but in short, language is the concrete symbolic means through which we try to implant intuition from one abstract idea space into another; obviously it’s limiting. This being the case, and language being as relative as it is, the issue of nuance miscommunication arises, and often compounds in the case of complex non-verifiable areas (e.g. philosophy). The obvious take is thus that freely defining terms is good because it mitigates the symbolic construction; it allows an author the precision to state things in a form as true to their intuition as possible. This is a good take.
I do, however, think this focuses too much on the work as a static object. In my ontology, the notion of an essay (or any piece of art) has three distinct but deeply intertwined pieces: the writing process, the static set of symbols (in a general non-language-specific sense), and the act of interpretation. I recognize that this statement isn’t particularly well defined — what about the editing process? What about reinterpreting it after consuming a response? Are these not part of the essay too? These questions are out of the scope of what I intend to discuss in this essay, but I hope to talk about them at some point, and I would be curious to hear your thoughts.
These three pieces are, in some sense, three different ways to view the core idea: through the lens of the source, through the lens of an ideal observer, and through the lens of an interpreter. I hesitate to say this is precisely how you should model what I mean, but it’s not a bad notion, and it suffices for the point I want to make: all three play an important role in the communication of an idea. If it seems initially unclear how the set of symbols intrinsically plays an important role as compared to communication and interpretation, think of it as the logical constraints, while the writing process has more to do with the artist’s ability to work within these constraints. Under this framework, then, the benefits of defining terminology lie within the symbolic.
I claim that defining terms is also important for the writing process. Anyone who has written an unplanned treatise knows that the process of writing is precisely the process of thinking; it is through putting an idea to symbols that its nuances are realized. It is in this sense that a good essay contains within it both the completed idea and the learning process itself. To create definitions freely, then, rather than as a last resort, is freeing in a sense entirely different from one of accurately capturing meaning — it is a freedom of thought. To put it tritely, it is the freedom to think outside the box. Language, even as subjective as it is, carries an ontology. To attempt to fit ideas into the linguistic ontology as they develop is to castrate them. Language as evolving thought police; if language intrinsically shapes the ideas is produces, yet those ideas are the very things that shift language, in what direction does this Ouroboros move? A question for another time. Certainly, it is the case that the way language shifts is through those who reject its ontological imports, and through doing so, force new ideas, new meanings, into the vernacular.
Define terms freely. Do so without hesitation, and clarify them later. Or don’t. Indeed, though I don’t intend to touch on it here, I would also claim that often the more opaque a work appears, the more value is created in the act of interpretation. Regardless, I think the fear of muddying discourse with new unnecessary terms is, perhaps, simply a fear of change.