Wisdom: We Still Don't Get It
Robin Lloyd, LiveScience Senior Editor,
LiveScience.com
There is more information than ever at our fingertips, yet
we're none the wiser it seems.
And many old people are wise, as most of them will tell
you, but sometimes they can't remember your name, so
how smart is that?
It's paradoxes like these that lie at the heart of a new
$2 million research project called Defining Wisdom.
Based at the University of Chicago, the four-year
initiative, supported by the Templeton Foundation, has
enlisted 23 scholars ranging from historians to
economists to psychologists to computer scientists to
examine the idea of wisdom, with the aim of cultivating it
and better understanding its nature.
Definitions of wisdom are all over the map, even among
the funded scholars interviewed for this story. The
communications scientist says wisdom involves
intelligence that is sensitive to the needs of others and
makes a good use of judgment. The computer scientist
says wisdom involves being able to quickly access
information from compressed datasets. And the historian
refuses to impose a definition and prefers to draw it out
of the historical contexts she studies.
None of these three researchers seems to be willing to
state whether wisdom today is greater or less than it
used to be, but each is taking a stab at seeing how
wisdom can be understood and measured.
Shaking things up
Earthquakes, of all things, have offered significant
opportunities for society to figure out what constitutes
wisdom, says Barnard College's Deborah Coen, who
studies the history of science and is interested in wisdom
as the capacity to navigate the rough waters between
technical expertise and what the rest of us know and
experience. As such, wisdom is more than commanding
facts, aka knowledge.
Coen's new research will focus on how lay people's
observations helped scholars and others make sense of
earthquakes during a period from 1857 to 1914. This era
was the "hey-day of human observation of earthquakes,"
Coen said, in a time before mechanical detectors of
earthquakes were reliable.
Scholars of the time thought it was imperative to observe
earthquakes scientifically, and relied on eyewitnesses to
answer questions about an earthquake's duration. At the
same time, though, some thinkers ironically believed that
people who experienced earthquakes repeatedly had
their rationality destroyed, leaving them desensitized to
the experience and, in a way, incapable of contributing to
higher science or culture.
So a "science of the lay people" flew in the face of one's
fear of the natural world. A contradiction emerged
between common sense and scientific experts who
redefined a modern form of wisdom - in this case about
earthquakes.
Nowadays, lay people are mostly excluded from the
scientific process, but in the late 19th century, there was
a "moment of opportunity for collaboration, negotiation
and communication between experts and lay people.
Experts needed lay people's eyes ears and hands," Coen
said.
There is no more or less wisdom today about
earthquakes than before, but we have missed an
opportunity, she said, (although a scientist today would
surely claim there is a lot more knowledge about
temblors).
"We have cut off options for ourselves," Coen said. "The
technocratic age has limited the modes of communication
between experts and lay people."
Compression and computers
Historians cannot quantify wisdom, Coen says, but that is
exactly what Ankur Gupta, a computer scientist at Butler
University in Indiana, is trying to do. His latest project
investigates data compression, which is the process that
takes, for instance, a high-fidelity digital music file and
reduces it to a much smaller mp3-format file that you can
play on your iPod or other music player. The data has
been reduced but the file still sounds like the original to
most listeners.
"The goal is to try to use data compression as a
mathematical measure of wisdom," Gupta said.
You might think that's fine for music. But what about
digitizing the entire universe, or one's perception of it at
least, and then trying to see what information is
contained in that digital representation?
Data compression, and the organizing and sorting of the
data involved in that process, would be an approach to
getting at what the information contained in such a
digitized world.
"The process of data compression is the process of
categorizing the information that is there," Gupta said,
adding that the wisdom achieved is implicit. "I may not tell
you what that wisdom is in an explicit form, but I'll give
you a compressed representation of that wisdom. Then I'll
allow you to search that compressed representation very
quickly."
How fast can you find your scissors?
The project also will deal with the speed of wisdom.
Sherlock Holmes is a good metaphor for the project goals
in that case.
"If you go back and read Sherlock Holmes tales, he does
not make every decision in a purely logical way," Gupta
said. "He employs some undefined cognitive process
along with logic ... Moreover, the value of what he does it
would be irrelevant if he gave you the answer 40 years
later."
Holmes' genius was partly his ability to access
compressed data quickly, one might argue.
But to bring the notion of compression to everyday life, a
scientific assessment of any one person's wisdom would
be "tough," Gupta said, because you'd have to digitize
someone's entire life experience via interviews and other
approaches. Even those approaches would be biased by
the interview questions and other contextual issues, like
what the person ate that day, the lighting and so on.
"I think the wisdom that I'm talking about isn't as much
about human experience but more about how to deal with
the massive amount of data that we have available," he
said. Understanding that data may lead to better
compression.
"It's a compelling goal to attempt to quantify wisdom in
any domain, even if the initial approaches in this project
may not be immediately applicable to readers," Gupta
said.
You know it when you hear it
Here's another paradox about wisdom - the elderly are
the wisest people on Earth because they've been around
so long. Or so many people say. But as we age, our
mastery of language starts to drop and many of us sound,
to be frank, more stupid. Our sentences get shorter. Our
grammar tends to decline. And we have trouble
recalling ... what is the word? ... vocabulary. And proper
nouns.
These troubles are no joke for people who lose their
ability to convey their thoughts, a condition called
aphasia. This often happens to people who suffer
strokes. But for most people with healthy minds, cognitive
decline is as inevitable as taxes and that other thing.
So Jean Gordon of the University of Iowa, a
communications scientist who has done a lot of work in
the past on aphasia, plans to use the Templeton money
to study how our perception of wisdom varies with how
others use language and how that relates to age. She will
use a variety of language measures to test this on 48
subjects, varying such things as the age of speakers and
what they speak about.
Wisdom is in the ear, or really, the mind, of the beholder,
she says. More knowledge about wisdom is perceived
and passed on can help medical providers assist people
with language use disorders.
"People's perceptions are very tied up in speakers'
competence with language. It's the way that we maintain
social connections and maintain our identity," Gordon
said.
· Video - A Turn-Off Switch for Alzheimer's
· The Amazing & Mysterious Human Mind
· Vote: The Greatest Modern Minds
轉貼自︰
http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20081215/sc_livescience/wisdomwestilldontgetit;_ylt=AlRxrS3487g4npcG6zNvswgbr7sF
本文於 修改第 1 次