I am grumpy about this post. I am grumpy this week in general, so this might not mean much. But I seem to be considerably more grumpy about this post than about most specific other things I’ve encountered in the past few days. I have already privately grumped to you about it a little bit, but now I shall publicly grump to you about it, hopefully in useful ways. But just to be clear, grumps follow.
Usually when I am grumpy at a piece of writing, it is because I want something that the writing doesn’t give me. Seems to hold in this case. I think there are two things I want from this that I’m not getting.
Thing the first: I want space to see things for myself, to arrive at my own observations and conclusions. When I read this post, I feel yanked around and stomped on, or shouted at, or trampled. It starts with “imagine a post, so that I can get you to build a particular-shaped concept in your head before I even tell you what regions of territory the concept is supposed to correspond to”. (This is false, I recognize; you actually started with “this corresponds to parenting-related stuff but also lots of other things”, which didn’t do the trick, for me.) I don’t want to start with imagining a post. I want to start with feeling the problemness of a problem, or the confusingness of a confusing, or the interestingness of an interesting, and poking around at the stuff in the place where it lives. I want to make some kind of contact with some kind of real actual thing that exists, before you go and tell me how to think about it. I’ve read this two or three times and I barely know what it’s about because I’ve been uncomfortably tightly protecting myself from it the whole time instead of really letting it in, because it seems to be talking about something genuinely important, and I hate losing my ability to observe and personally relate to important things before I’ve even begun. Grump.
Thing the second: I want some guidance that will help me observe the important thing, which does seem important, whatever it is. I think that maybe you think that the way to guide someone toward observing something is to draw them a picture of the thing and then send them off looking for stuff that resembles the picture. But I just hate that. Don’t draw me a picture of the moon and be like “there you go, now you know what the moon looks like, go find it!” because the way brains work, I’m now either going to hallucinate your drawing on top of everything round and I’ll have to do a lot of work if I ever want to even notice that this is happening, or I’ll just completely fail to even look for the moon in real life because I already have this handy drawing in my pocket so I therefore know what it looks like.
What is a post? How do I know if I’m near one? What’s it like to recognize one? How can I tell what I do by default in the presence of posts? How can I tell if someone is or isn’t attempting to manage my interactions with posts? How can I tell if I’m running or walking or crawling? When does it matter? How can I tell if it might matter in a particular moment? How can I tell if I’m trying to manage someone else’s interactions with a post? What would I look for in the motions of my own mind and in my perceptions of their responses and in the features of the situation we’re both inhabiting? And if you were wrong that meadows and posts is really a good way for me to think about the kinds of situations you want me to care about in this essay, how would I look where to find that out and build a better concept for myself? Grump.
In other words, please do all the work for me, but also much much less work than you have done.
You are good and your essay is probably also good and this comment is sponsored in part by a need for more chocolate.
I shared a similar experience reading this essay and wanted to figure out why, so I’ve tried writing out some of my observations/experiences, hopefully they’ll help in some way?
Before I start, I’d just like to add that I enjoyed this essay. It raises a lot of interesting points that provide food for thought e.g. uncertainty about location of hazards is what causes contraction, people can also be posts, how fear and eagerness are trying to protect the same thing. And the illustrations are pretty and helpful!
Below are my observations from reading the essay. They are my own personal experience, which may be very different from others’ experiences! Many things are obvious to others but not to me, so it might just be a me-not-understanding, rather than an issue with the writing.
Anyway, here’s the list:
Insufficient explanation
There seem to be two forms of meadow theory I can read from the essay. I understand and agree with the weak form, but the essay seems to be claiming the strong form without providing much explanation. (The strong form seems possibly true when I think about it, but it’s not obvious to me from the essay.)
Weak form: (my interpretation of the essay, which may be different from the author’s original intent...)
In scenarios where we want everyone to be able to explore freely despite the presence of unknown hazards, people think we should (primarily) help others by trying to remove all hazards, or following them around to stop them from getting into dangerous situations. In other words, we are trying to eliminate danger (that we perceive) from other peoples’ experiences.
This works in certain situations (e.g. baby-proofing a room), but tends to be unrealistic and unsustainable as a general, long-term solution.
Observe that the main problem is not the fact that there are hazards, but that we become constrained by our fear of getting hurt because we are uncertain of where the dangers lie.
Thus, a better approach would be to help them learn to work in an environment with unknown hazards, by helping them figure out where the hazards are, and teaching them how to identify potentially dangerous areas and communicate such information to others (hazards here includes people’s boundaries, fences, wants, and needs).
Strong form: (my attempt to follow the original essay, but I don’t really understand it)
The job of a parent (in the meadow) is to navigate the child-post interaction.
Similarly, the job of parents, managers, generals etc. in the real world is managing how their people handle hazards as they explore? (Why? Any examples other than parenting?)
When you know there is a hazard but are not sure where it is, you undergo a contraction because you are afraid of getting hurt.
Contraction is bad. (I think I agree, but why? Always bad or bad in certain contexts?)
Thus, the main responsibility of parents (and any cooperative individual) is to help their child/team etc. locate the hazards or identify potentially dangerous areas, so they can remain relatively expansive. (Main responsibility with respect to helping people stay safe or main responsibility in general?)
If the intent of the essay is to convey the weak form, then the essay seems to make unnecessary unjustified claims. This is distracting, because I keep trying to check if I agree or disagree with each claim (because it is not immediately obvious if the statement is true or false) when they aren’t important for understanding the main point. This makes it harder to focus on the core idea.
However, the essay seems to be arguing for the stronger form. In that case, the essay doesn’t seem to be providing enough explanations. Instead, the reader has to find justifications for the claims, so that they can understand and make use of the theory.
Example:
...it is the claim of this theory and this philosophy that (undergoing a contraction) is bad.
It is not clear why I should agree that this is bad (especially when the essay states that running is a metaphor for human activity, which means that I don’t just have to agree that contracting in this example is bad, but that contracting in all human activity is bad).
It is immediately obvious to me that in scenarios where we want to explore as much of the meadow as possible, undergoing a contraction would be bad, because then we would be able to explore less space within the same amount of time.
However, I don’t immediately see why undergoing a contraction is bad in general. The reader seems to be expected to simply agree, or to find our own justifications for why this may be true. I would have expected the essay to at least provide the motivation behind the claim, such as providing examples of where this fear-driven contraction has led to negative consequences.
Meadow example is introduced as a metaphor
The essay presents the meadow example as a metaphor immediately, instead of first trying to explain the meadow example, then showing how real life situations are similar to the meadow example.
I think this may contribute to the feeling of being “yanked”, because the reader is not given time to understand the example first, before seeing how it relates to their life. Instead, the reader is instructed to view real life (e.g. human activity) via a very specific lens (e.g. running in a meadow), so now I am trying to understand the example while trying to avoid being constrained by the lens that the author provides, all the while trying to figure out what “human activity” might refer to.
Meadow metaphor is very broad
Running in a meadow represents “human activity”, but “human activity” is so general that I don’t have a concrete way of understanding the metaphor. It also makes it more overwhelming because then any argument I evaluate has to apply to all possible human activity, rather than just a specific scenario. It feels a bit like we’re asked to agree or disagree with an entire worldview/life philosophy (our main job when helping others in any scenario is to help them locate hazards), rather than agree or disagree with a specific claim in a specific context (when we want people to be able to freely explore a space that has unknown hazards, it is better to help them locate hazards), when the arguments only cover a specific context (parenting).
Parenting appears in both the metaphor and the example/application
I find it confusing that the parent appears in both the metaphor (parent in the meadow) and the application (parenting in general).
Example:
...the job of the parent is to somehow navigate the child-post interaction.
Meadow-parent or real parent? The paragraphs building up to this statement show how this is true for the parent in the meadow, but don’t provide support for the broader claim that this is true for parenting in general. If I want my child to explore freely in a meadow, then my job is to navigate the child-post interaction. But it is not obvious to me that the main concern of a parent is always to ensure that their child is able explore reality freely.
Using a parent in the meadow example brings in extra connotations
A parent-child relationship has a lot of connotations (which can vary based on culture and personal values and experiences). By using a parent in the meadow example, it seems to suggest that this relationship is core to the metaphor. This seems to give the metaphor more “baggage”, making it harder to see how it relates to other scenarios.
For example, when I try to see how it relates to project management, I keep getting distracted by the fact that my relationship with my project manager is very different from my relationship with my parent. My parent was responsible for me in a way that my project manager isn’t. My parent knew a lot more than me, yet I can see many hazards that my project manager can’t. My parent wanted me to explore, but my manager wants us to move in a specific direction.
What is a post? How do I know if I’m near one? What’s it like to recognize one? How can I tell what I do by default in the presence of posts? How can I tell if someone is or isn’t attempting to manage my interactions with posts? How can I tell if I’m running or walking or crawling? When does it matter? How can I tell if it might matter in a particular moment? How can I tell if I’m trying to manage someone else’s interactions with a post? What would I look for in the motions of my own mind and in my perceptions of their responses and in the features of the situation we’re both inhabiting? And if you were wrong that meadows and posts is really a good way for me to think about the kinds of situations you want me to care about in this essay, how would I look where to find that out and build a better concept for myself? Grump.
I didn’t have the same “yanked” response as you did—if anything, I find Duncan usually takes too long to get to the point—but I concur with the quoted bit. I would read a follow-up post with some thoughts on that.
Softening comment for Duncan: I almost always agree with your eventual point to some extent, or can at least respect how you came to hold it, which is like 95% of the regard you could possibly gain from me re a particular claim.
>I didn’t have the same “yanked” response as you did—if anything, I find Duncan usually takes too long to get to the point
I don’t think how quickly or slowly he gets to the point has much impact on the thing I’m trying to talk about with “yanked”. This is not a “slow down” feeling, it’s a “get your grubby hands off my psychology” feeling. I think it’s possible to move very quickly while leaving lots of the kind of “space” I’m wanting.
Based on this thread, I currently plan to add both an intro and an expansion that meets the needs listed above, probably clearly headlined as “here’s how you’d know if you could skip this part.”
Additional wants or suggestions for such sections welcome.
I am grumpy about this post. I am grumpy this week in general, so this might not mean much. But I seem to be considerably more grumpy about this post than about most specific other things I’ve encountered in the past few days. I have already privately grumped to you about it a little bit, but now I shall publicly grump to you about it, hopefully in useful ways. But just to be clear, grumps follow.
Usually when I am grumpy at a piece of writing, it is because I want something that the writing doesn’t give me. Seems to hold in this case. I think there are two things I want from this that I’m not getting.
Thing the first: I want space to see things for myself, to arrive at my own observations and conclusions. When I read this post, I feel yanked around and stomped on, or shouted at, or trampled. It starts with “imagine a post, so that I can get you to build a particular-shaped concept in your head before I even tell you what regions of territory the concept is supposed to correspond to”. (This is false, I recognize; you actually started with “this corresponds to parenting-related stuff but also lots of other things”, which didn’t do the trick, for me.) I don’t want to start with imagining a post. I want to start with feeling the problemness of a problem, or the confusingness of a confusing, or the interestingness of an interesting, and poking around at the stuff in the place where it lives. I want to make some kind of contact with some kind of real actual thing that exists, before you go and tell me how to think about it. I’ve read this two or three times and I barely know what it’s about because I’ve been uncomfortably tightly protecting myself from it the whole time instead of really letting it in, because it seems to be talking about something genuinely important, and I hate losing my ability to observe and personally relate to important things before I’ve even begun. Grump.
Thing the second: I want some guidance that will help me observe the important thing, which does seem important, whatever it is. I think that maybe you think that the way to guide someone toward observing something is to draw them a picture of the thing and then send them off looking for stuff that resembles the picture. But I just hate that. Don’t draw me a picture of the moon and be like “there you go, now you know what the moon looks like, go find it!” because the way brains work, I’m now either going to hallucinate your drawing on top of everything round and I’ll have to do a lot of work if I ever want to even notice that this is happening, or I’ll just completely fail to even look for the moon in real life because I already have this handy drawing in my pocket so I therefore know what it looks like.
What is a post? How do I know if I’m near one? What’s it like to recognize one? How can I tell what I do by default in the presence of posts? How can I tell if someone is or isn’t attempting to manage my interactions with posts? How can I tell if I’m running or walking or crawling? When does it matter? How can I tell if it might matter in a particular moment? How can I tell if I’m trying to manage someone else’s interactions with a post? What would I look for in the motions of my own mind and in my perceptions of their responses and in the features of the situation we’re both inhabiting? And if you were wrong that meadows and posts is really a good way for me to think about the kinds of situations you want me to care about in this essay, how would I look where to find that out and build a better concept for myself? Grump.
In other words, please do all the work for me, but also much much less work than you have done.
You are good and your essay is probably also good and this comment is sponsored in part by a need for more chocolate.
I shared a similar experience reading this essay and wanted to figure out why, so I’ve tried writing out some of my observations/experiences, hopefully they’ll help in some way?
Before I start, I’d just like to add that I enjoyed this essay. It raises a lot of interesting points that provide food for thought e.g. uncertainty about location of hazards is what causes contraction, people can also be posts, how fear and eagerness are trying to protect the same thing. And the illustrations are pretty and helpful!
Below are my observations from reading the essay. They are my own personal experience, which may be very different from others’ experiences! Many things are obvious to others but not to me, so it might just be a me-not-understanding, rather than an issue with the writing.
Anyway, here’s the list:
Insufficient explanation
There seem to be two forms of meadow theory I can read from the essay. I understand and agree with the weak form, but the essay seems to be claiming the strong form without providing much explanation. (The strong form seems possibly true when I think about it, but it’s not obvious to me from the essay.)
Weak form: (my interpretation of the essay, which may be different from the author’s original intent...)
In scenarios where we want everyone to be able to explore freely despite the presence of unknown hazards, people think we should (primarily) help others by trying to remove all hazards, or following them around to stop them from getting into dangerous situations. In other words, we are trying to eliminate danger (that we perceive) from other peoples’ experiences.
This works in certain situations (e.g. baby-proofing a room), but tends to be unrealistic and unsustainable as a general, long-term solution.
Observe that the main problem is not the fact that there are hazards, but that we become constrained by our fear of getting hurt because we are uncertain of where the dangers lie.
Thus, a better approach would be to help them learn to work in an environment with unknown hazards, by helping them figure out where the hazards are, and teaching them how to identify potentially dangerous areas and communicate such information to others (hazards here includes people’s boundaries, fences, wants, and needs).
Strong form: (my attempt to follow the original essay, but I don’t really understand it)
The job of a parent (in the meadow) is to navigate the child-post interaction.
Similarly, the job of parents, managers, generals etc. in the real world is managing how their people handle hazards as they explore? (Why? Any examples other than parenting?)
When you know there is a hazard but are not sure where it is, you undergo a contraction because you are afraid of getting hurt.
Contraction is bad. (I think I agree, but why? Always bad or bad in certain contexts?)
Thus, the main responsibility of parents (and any cooperative individual) is to help their child/team etc. locate the hazards or identify potentially dangerous areas, so they can remain relatively expansive. (Main responsibility with respect to helping people stay safe or main responsibility in general?)
If the intent of the essay is to convey the weak form, then the essay seems to make unnecessary unjustified claims. This is distracting, because I keep trying to check if I agree or disagree with each claim (because it is not immediately obvious if the statement is true or false) when they aren’t important for understanding the main point. This makes it harder to focus on the core idea.
However, the essay seems to be arguing for the stronger form. In that case, the essay doesn’t seem to be providing enough explanations. Instead, the reader has to find justifications for the claims, so that they can understand and make use of the theory.
Example:
It is not clear why I should agree that this is bad (especially when the essay states that running is a metaphor for human activity, which means that I don’t just have to agree that contracting in this example is bad, but that contracting in all human activity is bad).
It is immediately obvious to me that in scenarios where we want to explore as much of the meadow as possible, undergoing a contraction would be bad, because then we would be able to explore less space within the same amount of time.
However, I don’t immediately see why undergoing a contraction is bad in general. The reader seems to be expected to simply agree, or to find our own justifications for why this may be true. I would have expected the essay to at least provide the motivation behind the claim, such as providing examples of where this fear-driven contraction has led to negative consequences.
Meadow example is introduced as a metaphor
The essay presents the meadow example as a metaphor immediately, instead of first trying to explain the meadow example, then showing how real life situations are similar to the meadow example.
I think this may contribute to the feeling of being “yanked”, because the reader is not given time to understand the example first, before seeing how it relates to their life. Instead, the reader is instructed to view real life (e.g. human activity) via a very specific lens (e.g. running in a meadow), so now I am trying to understand the example while trying to avoid being constrained by the lens that the author provides, all the while trying to figure out what “human activity” might refer to.
Meadow metaphor is very broad
Running in a meadow represents “human activity”, but “human activity” is so general that I don’t have a concrete way of understanding the metaphor. It also makes it more overwhelming because then any argument I evaluate has to apply to all possible human activity, rather than just a specific scenario. It feels a bit like we’re asked to agree or disagree with an entire worldview/life philosophy (our main job when helping others in any scenario is to help them locate hazards), rather than agree or disagree with a specific claim in a specific context (when we want people to be able to freely explore a space that has unknown hazards, it is better to help them locate hazards), when the arguments only cover a specific context (parenting).
Parenting appears in both the metaphor and the example/application
I find it confusing that the parent appears in both the metaphor (parent in the meadow) and the application (parenting in general).
Example:
Meadow-parent or real parent? The paragraphs building up to this statement show how this is true for the parent in the meadow, but don’t provide support for the broader claim that this is true for parenting in general. If I want my child to explore freely in a meadow, then my job is to navigate the child-post interaction. But it is not obvious to me that the main concern of a parent is always to ensure that their child is able explore reality freely.
Using a parent in the meadow example brings in extra connotations
A parent-child relationship has a lot of connotations (which can vary based on culture and personal values and experiences). By using a parent in the meadow example, it seems to suggest that this relationship is core to the metaphor. This seems to give the metaphor more “baggage”, making it harder to see how it relates to other scenarios.
For example, when I try to see how it relates to project management, I keep getting distracted by the fact that my relationship with my project manager is very different from my relationship with my parent. My parent was responsible for me in a way that my project manager isn’t. My parent knew a lot more than me, yet I can see many hazards that my project manager can’t. My parent wanted me to explore, but my manager wants us to move in a specific direction.
I didn’t have the same “yanked” response as you did—if anything, I find Duncan usually takes too long to get to the point—but I concur with the quoted bit. I would read a follow-up post with some thoughts on that.
Softening comment for Duncan: I almost always agree with your eventual point to some extent, or can at least respect how you came to hold it, which is like 95% of the regard you could possibly gain from me re a particular claim.
>I didn’t have the same “yanked” response as you did—if anything, I find Duncan usually takes too long to get to the point
I don’t think how quickly or slowly he gets to the point has much impact on the thing I’m trying to talk about with “yanked”. This is not a “slow down” feeling, it’s a “get your grubby hands off my psychology” feeling. I think it’s possible to move very quickly while leaving lots of the kind of “space” I’m wanting.
Based on this thread, I currently plan to add both an intro and an expansion that meets the needs listed above, probably clearly headlined as “here’s how you’d know if you could skip this part.”
Additional wants or suggestions for such sections welcome.
Also: oof