Literality kills understanding
Machines are getting smarter and smarter, we already know. The time will come when they will be smart enough to extract the exact messages in any text or even in any oral communication. We will probably already be there or very close, at least. This is one of the virtuous aspects of the intelligent machines we invent: they take everything literally and do it well. For example, when you enter the operation "2+2" into a calculator it gives you the result "4", consistently and constantly; when you press the refresh button or "pull down" the screen in an application the page refreshes, provided there is an internet connection. The machines are predictable and that's one of the things that makes us like them the most. Maybe that's why we get exasperated by "blue screens of death", colourful beach balls that spin to infinity or simple screens that suddenly stop being interactive, even though they're still bright. At such moments the machines fail us, become unpredictable and are commonly toasted with our impatience and anger.
Despite these technological hiccups, their reliability has reached sufficient levels for many of us to have become dependent on their operation. We use them to work, and there are fewer and fewer jobs that can be done without them; they are our pastime, it is with them that we entertain ourselves and fill in the "dead time"; they are our escape and excuse to get out of some embarrassing situations; they are the source of much of the information we consume; they are an auxiliary and, sometimes, a substitute for our memory; they are what keeps us connected, close, when we cannot get together.
Such is our awe with our own creation that it is not uncommon to compare ourselves to or aspire to be more like machines. In the world of work, but not exclusively, it often happens. The expression "it's a working machine" is almost always considered a compliment. Also in the business world there is a tendency to leave important decisions to the coldness, read objectivity, of the data, of the algorithms, produced or run by those machines. Machines offer us what we think we do not possess by nature. We have created them to be predictable and objective and when they work like this, they leave us relaxed.
Despite being unbeatable in their objectivity, there is, however, one aspect in relation to which machines, however complex and complete they may be, still cannot keep up with us. I refer to our capacity for subjectivity. I see it as a quality or capacity, but I recognise that in the moral configuration that seems to be the current one, it is easier for us to qualify positively a person seen as objective and negatively a person who is considered "too subjective". Of course, this assessment is in itself subjective. In any case, it seems to derive from the ancient idea that warns us that human nature is weak, that we cannot trust ourselves and our kind, and that it will be something artificial that will give us strength and save us from perdition.
Subjectivity is what allows us not to take messages literally, what allows us to send messages whose form and content may not coincide with the underlying intention and yet still make ourselves understood. It is precisely because we are naturally subjective, because we live immersed in our own subjectivity, that we are able to give birth, among many other fantastic things, to metaphor and its cousins sarcasm and irony. I believe that this is also why we manage to understand each other, as long as we make the effort to do so, as long as this is our intention.
Not being a new phenomenon, especially in the art to which I will refer, I was disheartened to see an episode that occurred on a social network involving the well-known artist, with the best possible meaning of the word, and Portuguese comedian Bruno Nogueira. In early July, he published on his Instagram account a photograph with a text full of spelling mistakes that made me laugh out loud. Shortly after, the author published in the ephemeral stories some comments from followers correcting his Portuguese or advising him to be careful with the language, from his moralistic high pedestal.
Later, almost in the middle of September, another publication on the same profile came out, which I considered to be a sequel to the previous one. The reaction to this one was even more effusive, and even provoked some colleagues and friends to write in its defence.
It would not be strange if my reaction was to consider that the people who protested against those publications were those who lacked a sense of humour, which may well be true. But what I thought and felt was different. It was pity, concern and such despondency. It wasn't the first time that some of Bruno Nogueira's creations were not perceived by some elements of his public. Perhaps it was the inflammable medium of social networks and today's society that caused this most violent shock of mine.
The inability to understand these publications or, on the other hand, the fixation with literalness seems to impoverish our nature as people. It is clear to me that in order to understand this kind of joke, not going as far as finding it funny, since that might be too subjective, one cannot get caught up in what "conforms to the letter or the text; to what is subject to the rigour of words nor to what is finished, of course".
I will not fall into the trap of easily blaming technology, machines and social networks for the many ills that beset us. It seems clear to me, however, that the latter leave us with an illusion of connection to others, of sharing a common public space when, in fact, they are leaving us alone, in bubbles with digital walls. This solitude and isolation can leave us to the "dangers" of our own thoughts and interpretations, more or less wild. When we are not used to or are not skilful at being well with "our buttons", one way of defending ourselves may well be to cling to literality, trying to avoid misunderstandings. The problem is that by being literal we kill subjectivity, and if subjectivity dies, as a consequence, we lose the possibility of constituting the essential intersubjectivity.
In order to understand each other better and to make ourselves understood, it is not only important to manage to be objective but also to put the different subjectivities "in conversation", hoping that differences do not cancel each other out and that they build novelty. The risk of making a mistake is greater, of course. But it also increases the probability of understanding and finding things funny. And it is so important to find fun in things.
If clarity in intention and form are important for communication to be effective, it is subjectivity that will make it fluid. It is, therefore, a fundamental part for us to understand each other. The growing tendency towards literalness is a sign of weak abstraction capacity, which is fundamental to understand each other and, consequently, to accept the differences.
Written for Link to Leaders on 21 September 2021; published 27 September 2021.
