Underlying Assumptions

Have you ever heard a debate where the two sides seem to be talking past each other? Each side presents their argument, and although everyone thinks they're arguing about the same thing, something doesn't quite connect.

I saw this in a set of papers we were required to read for the Analysis and Argumentation course (nicknamed A&A) in our department. These papers were part of an ongoing conversation, and included specific replies to each others' arguments. But one of the most surprising parts of these papers is how much trouble they had finding common ground.

One of the things we talked about while discussing these papers in class was that they couldn't come to a consensus because they never realized that they were working with different underlying assumptions. One of the authors assumed language worked a certain way, while the other assumed it worked another way, but neither one came right out and explained what they were assuming. It was only by reading between the lines that we were able to infer where each author was coming from.

These papers we read in A&A is what immediately came to mind when, after watching the video on the purpose of life at the Alpha course, a guest named Ron argued that the video had mixed up the words for 'purpose' and 'function.'

According to Ron, a purpose is what the designer intended their creation to be used for, while a function is what an object is used for. So for Ron, the question 'What is the purpose of life?' is nonsensical.

But I don't think the video mixed up these words or misused them. The makers of the video just had different underlying assumptions than Ron did. The people in the Alpha video were assuming that they were designed by a Creator, and so it is not incongruous for them to talk about a purpose in life, while Ron assumed that there was no such designer, so of course, to him, we could not have a purpose.

Whether or not you think they're right, sometimes you need to understand someone's underlying assumptions before you can actually have a productive conversation with them. The very words you use could have a different meaning to you than to the other person.

At the end of the night, Ron gave me a sheet of paper and asked me to think about what it said.

The sheet of paper read:
Purpose vs. Function
Why vs. How
Belief vs. Knowledge
Fantasy vs. Reality

I get the first three.

Ron discussed why and how in very similar terms to purpose and function. He said that he went to a talk once where the speaker said that why is an unscientific question. You can't ask why there's a tornado, he said, you can only ask how the tornado came to be. To ask why is to assign motive, and you can't do that with a natural phenomenon like a tornado.*

And of course there is an important distinction between belief and knowledge. Knowledge is fact-based, while belief is faith-based. I'm not sure what he was trying to get at here (and we didn't discuss it outside of the sheet of paper), because I don't think I've misrepresented what I know and what I believe.**

But the fourth one really bothered me at first. I felt like he was passively-aggressively saying that I couldn't distinguish fantasy from reality. I don't really get why it bothered me here and not with the third one, which basically says the same thing. But it did. But of course he's right that they can be falsely exchanged. Just between the two of us, we obviously disagree about where the line between fantasy and reality is drawn, and neither of us thinks we are insane, and I don't think he is insane, either (although I don't know what he thinks of me).

This is starting to make me think, though: if the line between fantasy and reality is as clear as we've all been pretending it to be, then how come we can't all agree about where it is?

So now I ask you:
What are your underlying assumptions about life and about God, and where did these assumptions come from?

But here's the one thing I really don't understand. If he is convinced that we are completely off our rockers, why does he keep coming back? (Not that he isn't welcome!)

*As a linguist, I feel like I should note here that the definition of why that was discussed here is narrower than the definition in common use. Of course scientists ask why there is a tornado, and in doing so, they look at weather patterns; they don't try to assign the tornado consciousness and psychoanalyze it. But I think that the above was the point he was trying to make, and I think it was an interesting one.

**Now I'm questioning myself about this. I suppose that sometimes I describe a very strong belief as something I 'know,' and I don't think I'm alone in this. It's actually kind of a cliche line in a crime drama when someone says, 'I know he's innocent' or 'I know he's guilty,' when really they mean that they believe it to be the case. But I'm sure if you ask them, they will tell you which things they know because of a gut feeling, and which they know because of facts. Although now that I think about it, who is the arbiter of what counts as enough evidence for something to be considered a fact? The extreme cases on either end are easy to determine, but the middle ground is another story...