Sunday, March 16, 2014

I "Felt" Attacked

When you follow American politics, it's easy to realize that there is a lot of confusion about the verb "to feel." It is versatile in the English language with an etymological history that connects its meaning to physical sensations, emotions, and perception in middle and old English. According to the Wikipedia dictionary page, "feeling" can mean:
  1. To use the sense of touch
  2. To be or become aware of something
  3. To experience the consequences of something 
  4. To seem (through touch or otherwise)
  5. To understand (slang)
  6. Or, to think or believe
It's this last definition that interests me most. It seems that more often than describing an emotion, an experience, or understanding, American politicians are in the habit of using "to feel" instead of "to intuit." The verb intuit is defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary as, "to know or understand (something) because of what you feel or sense rather than because of evidence." It is this definition that makes it an unusable verb in political conversations.

American culture is steeped in reductionist thinking where every argument must be explained, it is something that has been normalized as a part of an effective rhetoric. It seems however, that there exists a semantic loop-hole if you will, that lets one intuit under the premise of describing a subjective experience (presumably such an intimate experience that it cannot be explained). When deconstructing the semantic units "feel like" and "feel that" in context, it becomes evident that this phrase very often conceals a wealth of information.  When used effectively, the phrase shrouds the speaker from the responsibility of having to explain themselves.

A couple of weeks ago I watched an episode of The Daily Show with John Stewart where Stewart criticizes the lawmakers of Arizona, United States for voting for a bill that was designed to give legal protection to people who refuse to do business with people based on their own religious beliefs about their potential customers (supposed) sexual orientation. When you get to minute 4:30 in the video linked above, John Stewart shows his audience a montage of clips of Fox News commentary warning their viewers that their religious faith is "under attack."
However, if you listen closely you will notice that the news anchor doesn't say that people think they are under attack, she says people feel that they are under attack. Just like that, by replacing the word think with the word "feel" the person expressing themselves is excused from justifying why they sensed they were attacked. However, when a nation for example, claims they were attacked, the public demands concrete evidence. It would be laughable for a country to claim they were attacked because they "felt like" it. Why then, do we excuse one another when we make illogical claims?

There's a great book called the Tao of Conversation by Michael Kahn that explains this phenomenon. On page 73 Kahn describes how people often use the phrases "I felt like..." and "I felt that..." as a way to express their reasoning for their actions. The problem with this however, is that adding the words "like" or "that" after "I feel" turns the statement from the description of a feeling to what basically amounts to an intellectual cop-out. Feeling statements, Kahn says, are "I feel scared, worried, sad, etc." Feeling statements describe emotions (see this picture to see the breakdown of "basic" emotions). Therefore, if one is trying to express an emotion, the word that follows "I feel" should always be an emotion word.

What happens when one is allowed to pass a statement that includes the phrase "I felt like I was attacked" is that the person is excused from explaining why she thought she was attacked. I'm not sure if this linguistic sleight-of-hand is unique to the English language, but there are many times when this phrase is translated into another language the mystique of the abstraction is lost. "I feel like" becomes "I think" or "I intuit" and suddenly the phrase must be justified. The other person can then ask: 'What makes you think that?' Or what leads you to this 'intuition?' When imagined in this way, there is no secret  magical, emotional experience that can't be described- the phrase is once again clear and the conversation proceeds rationally.

In the clip montage referenced to above, the politicians interviewed could have say, "I was attacked," or "I think I was attacked," or "my intuition is leading me to believe I am being attacked." All of these other methods of expression open up a space for further questions or elaboration. However, when one states a thought or sensation as feeling rather than an experience, it closes the dialog and there is nothing further that can be inquired of the person- no further reasoning is possible. This lends the speaker a kind of unquestioned "Truthiness" to their statement, although no justification is required.

For the record, I am by no means a proponent of reductionism, nor do I have anything against intuition. In fact, I do much of my preliminary thinking through the use of intuition and it's often when I get my best ideas.  My argument is that it's good practice to be aware when one is employing this mystifying tactic, and to call them on it. Ask them to justify themselves, to think through what they are experiencing.

I think this is an important deconstructive tool especially in media studies when political actions are often described with this phrase. By requiring those from whom we request vital information to use more clear speech patterns, we can facilitate more reasonable conversations and ultimately more understanding. It's often hard to cut to the point and admit one is actually scared, angry, worried, etc., but when we do, it encourages meaningful reflections and promotes taking responsibility for ones own actions.

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