Yeah. It’s possible to give quite accurate definitions of some vague concepts, because the words used in such definitions also express vague concepts. E.g. “cygnet”—“a young swan”.
I would say that if a concept is imprecise, more words [but good and precise words] have to be dedicated to faithfully representing the diffuse nature of the topic. If this larger faithful representation is compressed down to fewer words, that can lead to vague phrasing. I would therefore often view vauge phrasing as a compression artefact, rather than a necessary outcome of translating certain types of concepts to words.
I’m against intuitive terminology [epistemic status: 60%] because it creates the illusion of transparency; opaque terms make it clear you’re missing something, but if you already have an intuitive definition that differs from the author’s it’s easy to substitute yours in without realizing you’ve misunderstood.
How often is signalling a high degree of precision without the reader understanding the meaning of the term more important than conveying a imprecise but broadly within the subject matter understanding of the content?
I agree. This is unfortunately often done in various fields of research where familiar terms are reused as technical terms.
For example, in ordinary language “organic” means “of biological origin”, while in chemistry “organic” describes a type of carbon compound. Those two definitions mostly coincide on Earth (most such compounds are of biological origin), but when astronomers announce they have found “organic” material on an asteroid this leads to confusion.
I’m not alexithymic; I directly experience my emotions and have, additionally, introspective access to my preferences. However, some things manifest directly as preferences which I have been shocked to realize in my old age, were in fact emotions all along. (In rare cases these are stronger than the ones directly-felt even, despite reliably seeming on initial inspection to be simply neutral metadata).
Specific examples would be nice. Not sure if I understand correctly, but I imagine something like this:
You always choose A over B. You have been doing it for such long time that you forgot why. Without reflecting about this directly, it just seems like there probably is a rational reason or something. But recently, either accidentally or by experiment, you chose B… and realized that experiencing B (or expecting to experience B) creates unpleasant emotions. So now you know that the emotions were the real cause of choosing A over B all that time.
(This is probably wrong, but hey, people say that the best way to elicit answer is to provide a wrong one.)
Here’s an example for you: I used to turn the faucet on while going to the bathroom, thinking it was due simply to having a preference for somewhat-masking the sound of my elimination habits from my housemates, then one day I walked into the bathroom listening to something-or-other via earphones and forgetting to turn the faucet on only to realize about halfway through that apparently I actually didn’t much care about such masking, previously being able to hear myself just seemed to trigger some minor anxiety about it I’d failed to recognize, though its absence was indeed quite recognizable—no aural self-perception, no further problem (except for a brief bit of disorientation from the mental-whiplash of being suddenly confronted with the reality that in a small way I wasn’t actually quite the person I thought I was), not even now on the rare occasion that I do end up thinking about such things mid-elimination anyway.
Classic type of argument-gone-wrong (also IMO a way autistic ‘hyperliteralism’ or ‘over-concreteness’ can look in practice, though I expect that isn’t always what’s behind it): Ashton makes a meta-level point X based on Birch’s meta point Y about object-level subject matter Z. Ashton thinks the topic of conversation is Y and Z is only relevant as the jumping-off point that sparked it, while Birch wanted to discuss Z and sees X as only relevant insofar as it pertains to Z. Birch explains that X is incorrect with respect to Z; Ashton, frustrated, reiterates that Y is incorrect with respect to X. This can proceed for quite some time with each feeling as though the other has dragged a sensible discussion onto their irrelevant pet issue; Ashton sees Birch’s continual returns to Z as a gotcha distracting from the meta-level topic XY, whilst Birch in turn sees Ashton’s focus on the meta-level point as sophistry to avoid addressing the object-level topic YZ. It feels almost exactly the same to be on either side of this, so misunderstandings like this are difficult to detect or resolve while involved in one.
Meta/object level is one possible mixup but it doesn’t need to be that. Alternative example, is/ought: Cedar objects to thing Y. Dusk explains that it happens because Z. Cedar reiterates that it shouldn’t happen, Dusk clarifies that in fact it is the natural outcome of Z, and we’re off once more.
Sometimes a vague phrasing is not an inaccurate demarkation of a more precise concept, but an accurate demarkation of an imprecise concept
Yeah. It’s possible to give quite accurate definitions of some vague concepts, because the words used in such definitions also express vague concepts. E.g. “cygnet”—“a young swan”.
I would say that if a concept is imprecise, more words [but good and precise words] have to be dedicated to faithfully representing the diffuse nature of the topic. If this larger faithful representation is compressed down to fewer words, that can lead to vague phrasing. I would therefore often view vauge phrasing as a compression artefact, rather than a necessary outcome of translating certain types of concepts to words.
I’m against intuitive terminology [epistemic status: 60%] because it creates the illusion of transparency; opaque terms make it clear you’re missing something, but if you already have an intuitive definition that differs from the author’s it’s easy to substitute yours in without realizing you’ve misunderstood.
How often is signalling a high degree of precision without the reader understanding the meaning of the term more important than conveying a imprecise but broadly within the subject matter understanding of the content?
I agree. This is unfortunately often done in various fields of research where familiar terms are reused as technical terms.
For example, in ordinary language “organic” means “of biological origin”, while in chemistry “organic” describes a type of carbon compound. Those two definitions mostly coincide on Earth (most such compounds are of biological origin), but when astronomers announce they have found “organic” material on an asteroid this leads to confusion.
Also astronomers: anything heavier than helium is a “metal”.
I’m not alexithymic; I directly experience my emotions and have, additionally, introspective access to my preferences. However, some things manifest directly as preferences which I have been shocked to realize in my old age, were in fact emotions all along. (In rare cases these are stronger than the ones directly-felt even, despite reliably seeming on initial inspection to be simply neutral metadata).
Specific examples would be nice. Not sure if I understand correctly, but I imagine something like this:
You always choose A over B. You have been doing it for such long time that you forgot why. Without reflecting about this directly, it just seems like there probably is a rational reason or something. But recently, either accidentally or by experiment, you chose B… and realized that experiencing B (or expecting to experience B) creates unpleasant emotions. So now you know that the emotions were the real cause of choosing A over B all that time.
(This is probably wrong, but hey, people say that the best way to elicit answer is to provide a wrong one.)
Here’s an example for you: I used to turn the faucet on while going to the bathroom, thinking it was due simply to having a preference for somewhat-masking the sound of my elimination habits from my housemates, then one day I walked into the bathroom listening to something-or-other via earphones and forgetting to turn the faucet on only to realize about halfway through that apparently I actually didn’t much care about such masking, previously being able to hear myself just seemed to trigger some minor anxiety about it I’d failed to recognize, though its absence was indeed quite recognizable—no aural self-perception, no further problem (except for a brief bit of disorientation from the mental-whiplash of being suddenly confronted with the reality that in a small way I wasn’t actually quite the person I thought I was), not even now on the rare occasion that I do end up thinking about such things mid-elimination anyway.
Classic type of argument-gone-wrong (also IMO a way autistic ‘hyperliteralism’ or ‘over-concreteness’ can look in practice, though I expect that isn’t always what’s behind it): Ashton makes a meta-level point X based on Birch’s meta point Y about object-level subject matter Z. Ashton thinks the topic of conversation is Y and Z is only relevant as the jumping-off point that sparked it, while Birch wanted to discuss Z and sees X as only relevant insofar as it pertains to Z. Birch explains that X is incorrect with respect to Z; Ashton, frustrated, reiterates that Y is incorrect with respect to X. This can proceed for quite some time with each feeling as though the other has dragged a sensible discussion onto their irrelevant pet issue; Ashton sees Birch’s continual returns to Z as a gotcha distracting from the meta-level topic XY, whilst Birch in turn sees Ashton’s focus on the meta-level point as sophistry to avoid addressing the object-level topic YZ. It feels almost exactly the same to be on either side of this, so misunderstandings like this are difficult to detect or resolve while involved in one.
Meta/object level is one possible mixup but it doesn’t need to be that. Alternative example, is/ought: Cedar objects to thing Y. Dusk explains that it happens because Z. Cedar reiterates that it shouldn’t happen, Dusk clarifies that in fact it is the natural outcome of Z, and we’re off once more.