Skip to main content

The Case of Curry Part II

Continuing yesterday's thought. Imagine somebody DID make an argument for an innate culinary faculty that enables our learning what is or isn't curry. This somebody would likely be making four mistakes:


  1. he'd probably be underestimating the amount of "negative evidence" around for an empirical inquiry into what is and isn't curry;
  2. and might be idealizing culinary learning as if it were instantaneous, whereas actual culinary learning is gradual and piecemeal;
  3. and is probabilistic, not a realm of certainties;
  4. and, finally, he may be assuming that there is an endpoint where we all agree about what is curry, whereas in fact there will always be room for disagreements. 
Image result for Tappan Zee Bridge

The second of these sounds odd, and those not familiar with these debates might not know to what she is making reference. But Chomsky has said, in his KNOWLEDGE OF LANGUAGE (1986), that in understanding language we can presume that the "order of presentation of data is irrelevant so that learning is 'as if it were instantaneous.'"  

If we accept the analogy with Curry learning, though, we can see the problem. The order of the presentation of the data may be very relevant in my developing conception of curry. If my first dish of curry is relatively bland, it may take me a while to understand that other curry connoisseurs consider the heat of the dish to be of its essence. 

Likewise, language is a complicated developmental fact, and the home in which one grows up has a good deal to do with what one comes to understand of language. The is not Cowie's example but I'll offer my own. I began to learn speech in the Hudson Valley, within sight of the old Tappan Zee bridge (pictured above). During this process my parents moved our household north and east into New England. My younger siblings ended up speaking like stereotypical New Englanders to a degree that has never been true of my  older brother or myself.

You will say, "regional accents are trivial and besides the point. The issues involve grammar and syntax."   It is fair to say it is  trivial example, but it will work as well as others to illustrate the substantive point.  Cowie quotes a student of the development of language skills saying that during the second and third years of life "the child seems to be proceeding in a bottom-up fashion, acquiring the language system brick by brick." And that IS the point, for bottom-up learning is exactly what one would expect were learning of language NOT innate, but acquired through our general cognitive abilities applied to the relevant circumstances. 

I'll lay Cowie aside for now, and come back to her perhaps next week for some concluding observations on all this. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Story About Coleridge

This is a quote from a memoir by Dorothy Wordsworth, reflecting on a trip she took with two famous poets, her brother, William Wordsworth, and their similarly gifted companion, Samuel Taylor Coleridge.   We sat upon a bench, placed for the sake of one of these views, whence we looked down upon the waterfall, and over the open country ... A lady and gentleman, more expeditious tourists than ourselves, came to the spot; they left us at the seat, and we found them again at another station above the Falls. Coleridge, who is always good-natured enough to enter into conversation with anybody whom he meets in his way, began to talk with the gentleman, who observed that it was a majestic waterfall. Coleridge was delighted with the accuracy of the epithet, particularly as he had been settling in his own mind the precise meaning of the words grand, majestic, sublime, etc., and had discussed the subject with William at some length the day before. “Yes, sir,” says Coleridge, “it is a majesti

Five Lessons from the Allegory of the Cave

  Please correct me if there are others. But it seems to be there are five lessons the reader is meant to draw from the story about the cave.   First, Plato  is working to devalue what we would call empiricism. He is saying that keeping track of the shadows on the cave wall, trying to make sense of what you see there, will NOT get you to wisdom. Second, Plato is contending that reality comes in levels. The shadows on the wall are illusions. The solid objects being passed around behind my back are more real than their shadows are. BUT … the world outside the the cave is more real than that — and the sun by which that world is illuminated is the top of the hierarchy. So there isn’t a binary choice of real/unreal. There are levels. Third, he equates realness with knowability.  I  only have opinions about the shadows. Could I turn around, I could have at least the glimmerings of knowledge. Could I get outside the cave, I would really Know. Fourth, the parable assigns a task to philosophers

Searle: The Chinese Room

John Searle has become the object of accusations of improper conduct. These accusations even have some people in the world of academic philosophy saying that instructors in that world should try to avoid teaching Searle's views. That is an odd contention, and has given rise to heated exchanges in certain corners of the blogosphere.  At Leiter Reports, I encountered a comment from someone describing himself as "grad student drop out." GSDO said: " This is a side question (and not at all an attempt to answer the question BL posed): How important is John Searle's work? Are people still working on speech act theory or is that just another dead end in the history of 20th century philosophy? My impression is that his reputation is somewhat inflated from all of his speaking engagements and NYRoB reviews. The Chinese room argument is a classic, but is there much more to his work than that?" I took it upon myself to answer that on LR. But here I'll tak