In the “summer of 1971,” Stanley Fish, a professor at SUNY, teaching both a linguistic class and English class focused on 17th Century religious poetry, told his English class that the list on the chalkboard was a poem. In fact, it was merely the remains of notes left on the board from his linguistic studies class held immediately before (pictured above). Yet, the dutiful poetry students did what they were told and analyzed the “religious” poem.
And they did a decent job of it (whatever that means, right?), leading Fish to conclude that meaning is largely contextual, that “Interpretation is not the art of construing but the art of construction. Interpreters do not decode poems; they make them.” Though words have their own, objective meanings, they must be used within the framework of context (for example, sentences); that context then becomes how we understand them.
Fish’s assessment seems to suggest that anyone can ‘read into’ anything and thus an author’s intention—the writer’s art—is moot. Not true. Such possibility lends more power and responsibility to the artist, who must anticipate the context in which the art will be viewed. To communicate effectively, speakers must understand the context of their audience before speaking and choose their words to match.
To illustrate how this exchange works, consider a tweet thread I came across recently, showing a poster hanging in New College where the original tweeter teaches, asking for help interpreting the images in it. [Pictured: “Can anyone explain this flyer to me? It’s been haunting me the whole time I’ve worked here.” Flier: picture of a koala, a rake, and a fried egg, among the words, “Should I study Latin at The New College? Sure, why not?”]
Twitterverse went to work, landing on this winning interpretation [Tweet: “I figured it out. It’s bad: koala, mattock, or egg? = koala, ligo, an ovum? =Collegium Novum =New College”]:
However, a grad student, studying under the Latin chair who created the poster, contradicted the interpretation, claiming the poster meant nothing [Tweet: “I can’t believe I’m seeing this on Twitter. As a New College Classics graduate whose advisor made this poster, I’m happy/sorry to inform you that the pictures mean absolutely nothing”]:
Did the poster, therefore, mean nothing? On the contrary, it meant exactly what Dustan said it did. Because the poster hung in the Latin hall, and because it encourages students to learn Latin at the New College, the message of the symbols was thus defined, even if the professor ‘intended’ nothing by them (which, let’s be real, that’s so a joke a Latin professor would make, right?).
Thus, arguing purely on intent (“I didn’t mean to sound like an ass” or “I’m sorry guys, the poster means nothing”) or in a vacuum (“The dictionary definition is X”) is not going to win you any points. One must, more importantly, ‘read the room’ to understand how others are likely to understand the signs.
Many informal logical fallacies occur because the speaker assumes context incorrectly or not at all. Equivocation can occur when the speaker conflates terms, not considering how context makes them different. Denying the Antecedent occurs when one forms a conclusion based on a faulty or ignored assumption. Stanley Fish suggests that a sign stating “Private members only,” taken out of context (on the door at a club), might humorously mean “genitalia only.” In its context, however, the sign clearly states that one must join the club to enter.
More often than not, the speaker abuses a context’s fluidity, using the gap between what is said and what is understood.
Consider the statement, “I’m sooooo happy for you I can hardly stand it.” Coming from a trusted friend, who has always supported your endeavors, this statement might sound gracious and earnest. The antecedent creates a context of trust, and thus the words are taken at face value.
However, coming from a colleague whom you’ve beaten in a contest or replaced in a hierarchy, or from someone you have had tension with in recent past, the statement will most definitely come across as insincere or sarcastic. The antecedent here is one of distrust or mutual tension. In this latter case, the speaker cannot validly argue they didn’t mean it to sound sarcastic; if the speaker isn’t completely oblivious, they should be aware of the tension and know their statement will come across passive-aggressively.
When the receiver inevitably feels belittled by such insincerity and questions the speaker, the speaker might think they have room to argue ‘I-didn’t-mean-it.’ This room is why passive-aggression seems effective. If the receiver questions the intention, the speaker can claim the receiver imagined—or ‘read into’—a harmless, objective statement. However, as Fish would attest, no statement is made objectively, relying on a literal meaning. Given a somewhat tense antecedent (a recent competition, argument, or lingering bitterness), the context requires the receiver to conclude the comment was made in jest. Only if the speaker shares the interaction with third parties (taking it out of context, like one did the sign from the club door) might the offended reaction seem unwarranted.
What happens if the context (or the relationship) is ambiguous? Perhaps the speaker intends partial kindness and the receiver reads it nefariously. In this situation, perhaps the speaker doesn’t mean they are literally “so happy” for the person, but they do think a congratulations is required. In that case, a flat “congratulations” would be more suitable, as anything else on such shaky ground would be read hyperbolically. The receiver correctly reads some level of falseness in the speaker’s voice, even if the falseness is misapplied. If there is reason not to trust the speaker (for example, if the speaker has been caught in a lie before), the words themselves will also not be trusted.
Why is Fish’s experiment important now, 50 years later? Because our civilization is changing rapidly, and thus so is the context of our language. We should think about and understand how the two work together, remembering that, though context defines meaning, it is a speaker’s responsibility to anticipate that context—to ‘read the room,’ asking, for example, am I addressing a linguistic class or a poetry class today? Ignoring the context at the very least reveals the speaker’s ignorance, at the very worst burns bridges, devalues others, and escalates conflict, none of which these precarious times need.
Brilliant!!!