Letters to an Imaginary Grandson (III)

What do we know? And how did we get to know it? Let's start with the big picture. We know (rather than just assume, imagine, hypothesise or fantasise) that we live on a planet orbiting a star; our solar system being a part of a galaxy; one galaxy among a vast number that constitutes the known universe. We can but speculate how many stars there are in our galaxy or how many galaxies in the universe – or if this universe is unique, or one of many universes. And whether life is common across the universe, or rare. Or whether there is a spiritual realm, separated from the material one of atoms, molecules and forces. We know what we know – and what we don't know. The study of what it is that we know is called ontology. 

But how do we know what we know? The study of how we came to know what we know is called epistemology. Volcanos and thunder were once thought to be the result of divine displeasure; today they're known to be vents in the Earth's crust through which hot lava escapes and shock waves in the air caused by sudden thermal expansion of plasma in lightning. That knowledge was acquired by human curiosity, testing various hypotheses against one another over time, and the scientific method, using repeatable experiments to validate theories.

Ontology (the study of what it is we know) and epistemology (the study of how we know what we know) – Greek-derived words, of which there are a great many in our language – are worth bearing in mind, as they help structure our understanding of knowledge.

Ontology is about stuff like reality, paradigms, concepts, world-views. What exists. What is being – what is it to be. What are thoughts. What is our place in the Universe. Epistemology is the theory of knowledge, how we acquire knowledge, what are the limits of what we can know.

So – how do you know that you exist. Simple! You are aware of it. You are aware of your own existence. You are conscious of existing; you are conscious of being conscious. This is the most basic, the most powerful statement of fact upon which to ground your own personal theory of knowledge.

Be aware also of what you don't know; be aware of cognitive biases in your thinking that can lead to poor judgment, irrational decisions or illogical interpretations. Identify them; question baked-in assumptions that surface in your train of thought. The older you get, the more you actually know, the more you realise you don't know. Being aware of how much you don't know makes you appreciate what fields of knowledge you should grasp, what you need to do to fill the gaps, and what sort of knowledge is of practical value (an understanding of how electricity works) and what isn't (London Transport bus numbers of the 1970s). There are vast areas of knowledge where you will have gaps in knowledge that you're destined never to fill. Acknowledging with humility that this isn't important to you, and being aware of that decision. I shall never speak Hungarian, grasp calculus, or master technical drawing.

You will have to choose whether you see yourself as a specialist or a generalist – either able to talk with a superficial degree of familiarity about a subject for several minutes, to establish your credentials for erudition – or able to focus deeply on a few complex areas with an expert's knowledge.

The last man considered to have 'known everything' was either Gottfried Leibniz (1646 – 1716) or Thomas Young (1773 – 1829). By the time of the Industrial Revolution, it had become impossible for even the most gifted polymath to have knowledge that spanned all branches of human thought to any significant degree.

Be honest about what you don't know – don't bullshit, especially not to people who don't know any better. Do not boast about what you know – share what you know.

This time four years ago:
Consciousness, memory and familiarity

This time six years ago:
Classic Volgas, London and Warsaw

This time seven years ago:
Memory and Me

This time eight years ago:
Sticks, carrots and nudge - a proposal

This time ten years ago:
London vs. Warsaw pt 2: the demographic aspects

This time 14 years ago:
Rail chaos hits Warsaw

This time 15 years ago:
Hurting and healing: a certain symmetry

This time 17 years ago:
I no longer recognise the land where I was born

This time 18 years ago:
A wet start to June