I have always been a pretty practical guy, with no time to invest in theoretical mumbo-jumbo. Theory always struck me as a useless waste of time, ivory tower thinking that had no connection to reality. This was the mindset I had when I first met with Christo Van der Merwe in 2001 at the SBL Annual meeting in Denver to discuss doctoral studies. He had struck me as a very practical scholar, and our meeting seemed to confirm this impression. He attended the conference wearing jeans and wind breaker; his food of choice was a good burger.
He asked me what I had been reading for the last year or so and what I thought of the works. I began rattling off the books and articles that Stephen Levinsohn had encouraged me to read, as well as other works I had found in bibliographies. He seemed pleased, said that he thought I was ready to register, but one thing was missing. I needed to develop a knowledge of cognitive linguistics and language processing in order to have a sound theoretical framework. I almost laughed. Why in the world would I want to read theoretical literature about how we think about language? What could that possibly offer? Such a waste of time, thought I. About a month later, I heard the same thing from Levinsohn, making me think that he and Christo were in cahoots. Grudgingly, I trusted my mentors and began reading some of the most esoterically-oriented literature I have ever encountered. It was model after theoretical model of how humans appear to process and store information. What could this possibly add to my research? First, a story.
Back in the day, I was big into Boy Scouts, earning my eagle award just before my 16th birthday. I was doing my best to be an avid outdoorsman, and orienteering skills played a big part of that. Orienteering is the use of map and compass for navigation. It began with learning the basic workings of a compass, then moved on to understand things like keys to map symbols, scale, topography and much more. Synthesizing this knowledge allowed me to get to know a place–what it looked like, where major landmarks were, the lay of the terrain–all without ever having been to the place.
Plotting out my first hike on a map at a troop meeting was simple, I just drew some lines and connected some dots. Easy, right? Trying to follow that course in reality was a chore. My theoretical path cut across contours, which meant going up and down hill a lot. Most trails follow the contour to avoid this as much a possible. I paid little attention to water features, like crossing streams. In practice we had to move up and down stream to find a suitable place to cross. The more trips I planned, the more I learned about “what not to do.” Each experience helped be to better understand and synthesize the information on the map. It helped me to picture what I would find, even though I had never been there.
The theoretical aspects of orienteering–representing information abstractly with symbols, lines and squiggles–were invaluable, but only as I used them. To really make it work for mr, it took applying the theoretical to real life practice. This application ended up deepening my theoretical understanding, believe it or not. All of this culminated in organizing a prospecting trip with my dad up near Mt. Baker. I was responsible for navigating us from one point to another, and for recording where each assay sample was taken. This was no easy task, fighting our way through 6′ high salal and devil’s club, across steep ravines. It was some of the roughest terrain I have ever seen. But thanks to (mostly) accurate topo maps and years of applying the theory, we successfully made it through. Why no GPS? The tree canopy was too heavy to pick up more than one satellite. We had to go old school.
So what does orienteering have to do with theoretical frameworks? A lot! Theory–for theory’s sake–can indeed be a colossal waste of time, the very ivory tower thing that comes to mind. But sound theory that works in practice is invaluable. Having an accurate map of how things work can tell me what to expect in a place that I have never been before. When navigating new territory–either geographical or linguistic–knowing what to expect and how things ought to look is invaluable. If I am looking into something new to me like word order, conjunctions, or (heaven forbid) verbal aspect, knowing how these operations tend to work in the world’s languages is something like a map. It will not tell me exactly what Greek will look like, but it should give me a good idea of significant landmarks to be on the lookout for. This theoretical background acts as a safeguard to keep me from getting lost, from claiming something that runs counter to how things are expected to work based on a broader linguistic understanding.
Recall that I described our Mt. Baker topo maps as (mostly) accurate. They appear to have been made from aerial photos without field verification. There was a huge boulder field that I was using as a reference point. Just one problem: the location of the boulders on the map varied fairly significantly from where my calculations said it was in the field. “Houston, we have a problem.” As a result of this mismatch, we ended up devoting what should have been a second day prospecting to retracing the track of Day 1 to see who was correct, me or the map. Happily, the eagle scout’s knowledge proved superior! Had we trusted the flawed map as a bearing point, all of our data would have been thrown off by several hundred yards.
I have devoted a lot of time of late to critiquing Stan Porter’s model of verbal aspect. Figuratively speaking, the claims made in his Verbal Aspect volume have functioned as a map of the Greek verb for NT studies for more than 20 years. From the very beginning scholars like Moises Silva have suggested that parts of the map appear inaccurate, based on some field-testing in exegesis.1 A rigorous application of the model to the gospel of Luke has also raised some questions, since it lead to counter-intuitive conclusions much of the time.2 Porter’s own application of his model to Mark 11 has drawn similar criticism. 3 You’d think that a hand-selected example would fare better, but the counter-intuitive conclusions the model suggests in application remain problematic.
These recurring problems in the field application are why I decided to go back and look at the theory that underlies it. How does it mesh with the maps one finds of other languages? In reading the sources that undergird Porter’s model, his diverges from their principles and claims suggest that the problem lies in the model itself. If the implementation of a model reveals flaws, one should go back to “what we know to be true” from the typological studies of these phenomena. In other words, if the boulder field and other significant landmarks continue to appear out of place in ongoing field trials, it may call for something other than blaming the guys in the field. It may be an issue with the map itself.
Theory is incredibly useful, but only if it works in the field. I still have no real love for theory, but I have an even stronger aversion for “getting lost.” There are some great linguistic maps available that can safeguard one’s description, even if breaking new ground. Developing a sound theoretical framework, one that is consistent with the broader field is an invaluable safeguard to keep you on the proper path. I no longer balk at Van der Merwe or Levinsohn for the priority they place on theory. On the contrary, I thank them in nearly every communication with them for impressing its importance on me. Bad theory will get you lost, good theory will get you home safely. Invest in good theory.
- Moises Silva, “A Response to Fanning and Porter on Verbal Aspect.” In Biblical Greek Language and Linguistics: Open Questions in Current Research, edited by Stanley E. Porter and D. A. Carson, 74-82. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993. [↩]
- Jody Bernard, “Is Verbal Aspect a Prominence Indicator? An Evaluation of Stanley Porter’s Proposal with Special Reference to the Gospel of Luke.” Filología Neotestamentaria 19 (2006): 3-29. [↩]
- He claims that the participles δεδεμένον and ἑστηκότων in v. 4 and εὐλογημέν- in vv. 9-10 are the most salient actions on the basis of their stative aspect. “Some have found it implausible that the perfect tense-form is used to frontground the colt and the calls of those welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem, especially since these tense-forms are supposedly relatively common for these verbs in the Greek of the New Testament” (Stanley E. Porter, “Prominence: An Overview.” In The Linguist as Pedagogue, edited by Stanley E Porter and Matthew Brook O’Donnell, 45-74 (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press Ltd, 2009), 61). [↩]
Great post! The analogy was quite helpful. Pray-tell though, what is some good theory to invest in? Would your discourse grammar be a good entrance point for a linguistics novice?
Hi Alex, the answer to your question is “It depends.” Looking at your blog, you seem to have a computational bent, something I sorely lack. However, I do raise some theoretical questions based on my framework about Ivan Kwong’s computational study of word order in an RBL review. My goal is to provide a basic foundation on which one could build as they specialize in a particular area. A lot of ground is covered in the grammar, and I tried to leave a trail of bread crumbs for those wanting to follow up. If you are interested in information structure, I’d strongly suggest the framework used by Levinsohn or Bailey. Both are field linguists who have applied their background to Greek, not vice-versa. Linguistics and discourse studies has become the sexy approach to use of late, so be careful. Send me a note about what you are interested in, and I’ll answer more specifically. Generally, find someone with both feet in linguistics rather than one. If the theoretical framework is worth its salt, it will transfer quite easily to a new application.
Very nice post, Steve. I’ve always thought it important that we be clear at the outset about our assumptions and presuppositions when we’re investigating a problem in a text; I still think that’s a common failing in papers written by students without any graduate training. But the theoretical frameworks you’re talking about now are, of course, not limited to Linguistics; they are at work in traditional grammatical lore and their assumptions are all too rarely examined and put to any real critique (and so many of the assumptions are built into or implicit in the terminology assigned centuries ago to the grammatical categories). I like too your illustration of the map of a terrain as compared with on-the-ground exploration of a complex geophysical area; I’ve used the same comparison frequently with regard to lexicography: there’s a vast difference between knowing verb morphology and knowing the usage of particular verbs. It’s why learning the structures of a language is miles apart from ability to use the language as a real instrument of communication.
Interesting.
I’m wondering in the field of New Testament interpretation, what constitutes the discipline of retracing one’s steps to see whether one map or the other was correct? We can’t ask the authors what exactly they had in mind.
Great post to reflect on. It’s amazing, I’m actually on the other side. I’m more of a theoretical kind of guy, it’s the practical stuff that kills me. I guess we all need to balance ourselves out by being further enabling the areas in which we are most weak in.
Perhaps in some sense, maybe this is why I’ve had problems learning Greek and Hebrew.
Hi Dr. Runge,
I just had a quick question or two concerning your “Theoretical Framework” post. First of all, I completely agree with your comments. It seems clear to me that we must have a sound theoretical foundation in place if there is to be any fruit to our “language-in-use” approach to NT Greek.
However, I’d like to pick your brain a little bit about some of your criticisms of Porter. Above, you note that Porter’s model has drawn quite a bit of critique recently, and that “these recurring problems in the field application [of the model]” are why you yourself are questioning its theoretical rudiments. This point is well taken. But, why not mention (at least in a footnote) the work of Rodney Decker, who at least claims to have successfully applied Porter’s model to the verbal system throughout the entire Gospel of Mark? Indeed, perhaps Decker’s focus is more on the notion of aspect vs. temporal reference, and not aspect-prominence; but did not his work nonetheless validate Porter’s grander model? Any thoughts?
Also, I wanted to ask you what you think the primary difference is between Porter’s approach to the perfect as the most semantically weighted of the tense-forms and that of Con Campbell. Would I be right in judging that Porter takes more of a morphological approach (i.e., the presence of reduplication, etc.), whereas Campbell’s concerns the concept of spatial proximity?
Your thoughts would be valuable.
Wally
Hey Wally,
Regarding Decker’s work, he does not make the same claims regarding prominence value of the various aspects, so in that sense there is nothing to comment on. On the other hand, contrastive substitution is a significant proof offered by Decker, which I have called into question not just in Porter’s application, but more generally. One could make the same kind of “successful application” claim about Porter as you make about Decker. Porter is the originator of the claim of timelessness and the approach to verbal aspect. For that reason, primary focus is on Porter, not Decker’s secondary application.
Furthermore, Decker claims that Porter’s claims are reasonable based on his findings in Mark. There are a number of implications from my posts for Decker’s work, but Decker is only applying what someone else has developed. I addressed Decker directly in my historical present paper, showing how his own data can more reasonably be reconstrued to argue for a mixed tense/aspect system.
I do not plan on making verbal aspect my primary research focus. I found a number of troubling issues in studying the historical present. I plan on addressing those issues, and then likely offering some kind of holistic, alternative explanation at some point. I am more interested in sounding a warning to the guild that there are significant problems with Porter’s model, lest others build on the faulty foundation without having come to terms with them. I will leave it to others to work out all of the broader implications. Mostly I look forward to hearing something directly from Porter and Decker in response to these papers, once they are completed. The work I am engaging is 10-20 years old, and things change in that time period. Porter seems to have affirmed his positions based on his “Prominence” paper in the 2009 publication. I have not talked to Decker about the matter.
I will continued to focus on the big picture issues until they are sufficiently addressed, only then moving on to more specific things. While Porter’s research is the main focus, there are implications for both Campbell and Decker as well. Once the papers on markedness and prominence, I will work on more specific issues.