When I wrote the last post on reflections from the academic conferences this year, I really had not expected much in the way of a response. After getting comments about my illustration of verbal aspect, my expectations changed. I really thought there would be some traction for the idea of convening a new panel to see the discussion advanced, moving beyond just reaffirming positions. Interest seemed to die off when it got to brass tacks, fueling my growing cynicism about scholarship as a quest for greater understanding, for Knowledge.
Just to close the loop on the discussion, I wanted to make an observation. If people do not understand or “get” what you are doing, or why is has any potential contribution to make, you have to ask yourself one question: Whose problem is it? Who bears the responsibility for making something understandable?
One answer that is quick to be offered is “the learner, the novice”. It is their problem, they just need to pay their dues, invest the time, and then they can attain the purer level of knowledge that those specialists with PhD after their name possess. There is a lot of truth in this answer. Not everyone has the proper background to understand Greek grammar, nor can everything be simplified for the least common denominator. This is not what I am talking about.
If I have an idea that I think will improve how we do grammar (and I do), and if I want to influence people to move in a new direction based on this idea (and I do), whose problem is it? If I am really have a solution that will help solve a problem, but no one can understand it, is it really reasonable (or rational) to expect things to change? A common response to this is to blame the incompetent masses for being too unsophisticated to understand the profundity of my work. If only they could understand it, they would see it was correct. But alas….
There is another potential answer to the question of responsibility. There is another way to address the issue. Instead of writing as a specialist to specialists, I could make it my responsibility to make it understandable. Rather than smashing the knuckles of those that ask imprecise questions, I could help them understand why the imprecision will get them into trouble. Who knows, maybe the degree of precision that I am demanding is not even necessary to understand the concept!
Whose responsibility is it to make things understandable? Within the Academy, a common answer is that it is up to the masses to invest the time, they need to pay their dues and our salaries through tuition. But these same scholars can be heard grumbling that no one is giving due attention to their ideas because the attention they deserve is being given to a flawed framework written for the masses that is carrying they day. Why? Because the other guy took responsibility for making the information accessible.
Let’s bring this back to what I was saying about verbal aspect. I contend that it is the accessible books that address a wider audience that have the longer lasting impact than the technical tomes. Tomes are important, but by themselves they will not carry the day. If you compare the distribution of Porter’s dissertation volume compared to his Idioms volume, I would expect that most of the people that cite Porter on aspect are citing the parade illustration from the latter volume, not the tome from Peter Lang. Idioms did a great job of popularizing the integration of linguistics with Greek grammar.
As much as people have criticized Campbell’s volume on technical grounds, based on its accessibility and distribution potential through Zondervan, I expect that it will become the new starting point for reading about aspect. Why? Why wouldn’t the student read one of the more historically authoritative works? Because those volumes are written by specialist for specialists, a group who have the concerns and interests (and pet peeves) of specialists. After all, there are hills to die on, nits to pick, straw men to build and shred. That is the cutting edge of scholarship, right?
Does this mean that I am against precision and accuracy, that I think we should simplify everything to the point that it becomes inaccurate? No way. I am pretty ruthless when it comes to figuring out what is going on under the hood. It takes work to clear away the clutter, to move past the symptoms to the core problem and to describe it accurately.
But the need for precision has too often become an excuse for not understanding something well enough to explain it to a non-specialist.
By non-specialist here, I am talking about competent folks with graduate training, not just “Joe the plumber.” We will return to him below.
This responsibility to make things understandable has been with me for a long time, probably stemming from my background in the trades. I realized that if my ideas were not transferable to others, their impact would be very limited. In response to this, I began explaining my research to the guys at the job site1 One of the people I practiced on was the plumber. He even had what we called a PhD: a Post Hole Digger. 🙂 If I could not explain to him what I was doing and why it mattered, I needed more time in the wilderness learning. I also taught K-2nd Grade council times at AWANA. A highpoint was teaching the kids Matt 7:12 in Greek so that we could discuss the significance of the pendens and adverbial KAI to the overall rhetorical impact of the verse. We did this through hand motions. They discovered the joy of syntax that night, along with some of the parents!
One of the most encouraging complements I look for is this (forward-point reference): “I understood what you were talking about, it made sense.” I may not have convinced them, but at least they understood enough to disagree. If they do not understand, if I spoke in inaccessible ways, what’s the point? They may think that I am profound and smart. They may even think I am right. But if it is not understandable, how will it help? How will I get any meaningful feedback about how to improve my analysis or description? I think this is the spirit of what Paul is getting at in 1 Corinthians 14:6 ff. Does it edify, and if so, how broadly.
I have not yet read Con’s book,2 and Con, sorry for using you as an example so much. But I applaud you for doing what you have done by taking what has been a devisive and controversial topic and attempting to repackage it in a more simplified form for the non-specialist. For those who have significant beefs with his work, take note. If you cannot provide a better explanation in an accessible manner, you have already lost the war, even if Con is wrong. One of the common criticisms of his book seems to be that the masses will not have enough background to know where he missed the boat, and therefore the book should not have been released to the masses. We need more academic discussion. They are probably right, but it is too late, the cattle are out of the barn. Now what? How about we convene something that consists of specialists still actively working the aspect problem, boil the issues down to the core differences, and have a practical, applied discussion. If you want to save the masses from being lead astray, then do something.
When Buth and Holmstedt did their smackdown, when all of the dust had settled, the analyses looked pretty similar. The main difference had to do with Rob’s default SV, which meant he did not have to treat initial topical constituents as anything special, it was the default order thanks to his triggered inversion rule. People were able to compare apples with apples in their analyses, and walked away following the analysis that made the most sense of the data. In my mind and that of many others, that was Randall Buth’s. I wonder what would happen with verbal aspect? Perhaps we will never know.
- I worked my way through my MTS and DLitt degrees (14 years in total) either working in a lumber yard or framing houses by myself as ‘Academic Construction.’ The same skills that helped me with grammar also made me a ruthlessly efficient carpenter. I could build faster alone working a shorter day than most two-man crews, and even some with three. College students always had a bad reputation as construction workers, since they tended to over-think things. I demonstrated that good thinking could have a practical pay off. But I also took a perhaps less-than-noble satisfaction in keeping pace with or outpacing the competition. My nickname for a time was Psycho. [↩]
- I tried to score a review copy, but failed. [↩]
Steve, I’m going to pick this up on my blog – just to let you know.
[…] a comment » There are dozens of thoughts that popped into my head as I read Steve’s followup post on scholarship. His main point is simply that it is the specialist’s responsibility to make their work […]
Oh and when the book comes to you, I’ll bring you my copy of Campbell.
Dear Steve,
Thanks for your helpful thoughts about these matters. I whole-heartedly agree with your concerns.
As a side issue (and not wanting to further add focus upon myself!), I think it is slightly ironic of some within academia, who are happy to cricitze my views based on my basics book, without having read, so it seems, my two monographs, which are for specialists. And so, as a result, I’ve heard a series of cheap shots about my views, which, had they read my full argumentation, would not be tenable.
As an example, I like Porter’s Idioms book, but when I’ve engaged him on various things, I’ve used his monograph, not his student book, for obvious reasons. It would be nice for others to extend the same courtesy when engaging this debate on technical grounds. Having said that, I’m glad that the basics book has stirred up interest again, and I think a forum, as you mention, would be a welcome development.
Thanks,
Con
There is no question that clear writing is essential to accessibility; eloquence would be even better. A case in point: Werner Jaeger’s _Paideia_ is a major interpretation of ancient Greek cultural history; the German original is heavy and awkward, while Gilbert Highet’s English-language version is a work of classic eloquence. But other important factors affect accessibility also. One is price: Porter’s major work on aspect, even in paperback, costs over $100. Chrys Caragounis’ very important diachronic perspective on NT Greek was originally marketed as a hardback at $220; a clearer English formulation might make it all the more accessible. I think that marketing can give a well-written book a grand headstart even if the book is questionably suited for its stated purpose. Successful promulgation of important scholarship involves quite a few factors that work heavily in favor of some works and to the detriment of others that may be of at least as great importance.
Speaking as a non-specialist, I can say that (to take discourse grammar as an example), the whole concept was a snoozer until I started reading your stuff, Steve, then it electrified my whole approach to the Scriptures and I now find it fascinating. Obviously, had you not made it understandable (and you do have a certain genius at that), then “you few, you happy few” could be in a little room forever endlessly debating minutiae with little to no broader impact.
I suppose one can take a certain pride in superior knowledge, but if one cannot translate one’s work for a broader audience and demonstrate it’s relevance for the masses, then one’s books will be gathering dust in the backbin of some library in short order.