Friday, July 30, 2004
A Rebuttal by Ibn Toumart
Putting the Shoe on the Other Foot
Recently Brian Burgess, a notable philosopher and intellectual, published a controversial hypothesis which he has dubbed the "other shoe theory." Briefly, the theory stipulates that any romantic relationship will experience difficulties proportional to the romance's intensity and speed, and that these difficulties will most often appear in the form of initially concealed knowledge whose revelation could potentially cripple the relationship. Should it prove accurate, the concept of the "other shoe" could prove invaluable to romantically inclined men and women. Consequently, we ought to critically examine the idea, not only in the name of good social science, but in the interests of all present and future lovers. Does it help us better understand romance? What evidence supports the theory, and is it satisfactory?
Let us first consider Mr. Burgess' assertion that "If something seems too good to be true, it generally is." Cynical readers may be sympathetic to such a viewpoint. But that which is emotionally resonant is not necessarily true. We do ourselves a disservice if we frame our inquiries in ways that blind us to certain conclusions. If we choose to treat positive outcomes as suspect, positing along with Balzac that "le secret des grandes fortunes... est un crime oublié" (behind every great fortune there is a forgotten crime) then our pessimistic outlook will tell us, ipso facto, that it is impossible for a happy love to exist without an unhappy secret. With this worldview, the beautiful gazebo is probably termite-infested, the fresh apple from the orchard surely houses vile insects, justice is always the interest of the stronger, "The flower that smiles to-day/ To-morrow dies," and so forth. But history contains successes as well as failures -- joys as well as sorrows -- and neither one implies the other. Nothing is lost or won in advance, and we must admit all possibilities if we are to be on the side of truth.* As Ecclesiastes reminds us:
"I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all."
Therefore, reasonable people ought to question Mr. Burgess' stark claim that "[o]ne does not know at what moment the other shoe will drop in a relationship, but the fact it will drop at some point is not in doubt." But by the same token they should not dismiss the idea. It would be naive to pretend that tastes and interests do not vary widely. Who could reasonably expect two people, swept together by physical attraction or chance acquaintanceship, should find each other completely agreeable? Perfection itself can be a flaw. And when "a relationship is going especially well especially quickly" this may mean that character and personality have been submerged in a torrent of excitement and passion. When hearts are skipping beats while butterflies dance in stomachs and fire (or adrenaline) courses through veins, cold objectivity is both difficult and undesirable. Blemishes are harder to discern on a flushed cheek.
C. Wright Mills observed in The Sociological Imagination that "the purpose of definition is to focus argument upon fact, and...the proper result of good definition is to transform argument over terms into disagreement about fact, and thus open arguments to further inquiry." A sociological theory -- such as the concept of the "other shoe" -- is a special kind of definition. Not only must it help us focus our thoughts, but it must also enable us to develop and expand our understanding of people and the societies in which they live. To that end, it must contain minimal assumptions and prejudices. If theories have ideological subtexts then they may shed false or at least misleading light on factual evidence. Because it does not take a neutral philosophical stance, the reliability of the "other shoe" theory is thrown into question.
That said, if we construe the "other shoe" theory to mean that true love is more elusive than momentary passions would lead us to believe, then it is still a useful proposition despite its theoretical inadequacies. As suggested above, the theory indirectly reminds us that if we are unable to put our thoughts in philosophical perspective, then we are the slaves of our own impulses, and our lack of introspection is likely to often lead us into situations where "other shoes" are dropping. Provided we avoid extreme interpretations, we ought to view the theory as an invaluable and all too rare exhortation to pursue self-knowledge.
-- from the files of Ibn Toumart
* See, in particular, "The Constitution of Society" by Antony Giddens, which was a particularly influential theoretical work advancing the argument that individual human agency plays a crucial role in the creation and development of social order.
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Putting the Shoe on the Other Foot
Recently Brian Burgess, a notable philosopher and intellectual, published a controversial hypothesis which he has dubbed the "other shoe theory." Briefly, the theory stipulates that any romantic relationship will experience difficulties proportional to the romance's intensity and speed, and that these difficulties will most often appear in the form of initially concealed knowledge whose revelation could potentially cripple the relationship. Should it prove accurate, the concept of the "other shoe" could prove invaluable to romantically inclined men and women. Consequently, we ought to critically examine the idea, not only in the name of good social science, but in the interests of all present and future lovers. Does it help us better understand romance? What evidence supports the theory, and is it satisfactory?
Let us first consider Mr. Burgess' assertion that "If something seems too good to be true, it generally is." Cynical readers may be sympathetic to such a viewpoint. But that which is emotionally resonant is not necessarily true. We do ourselves a disservice if we frame our inquiries in ways that blind us to certain conclusions. If we choose to treat positive outcomes as suspect, positing along with Balzac that "le secret des grandes fortunes... est un crime oublié" (behind every great fortune there is a forgotten crime) then our pessimistic outlook will tell us, ipso facto, that it is impossible for a happy love to exist without an unhappy secret. With this worldview, the beautiful gazebo is probably termite-infested, the fresh apple from the orchard surely houses vile insects, justice is always the interest of the stronger, "The flower that smiles to-day/ To-morrow dies," and so forth. But history contains successes as well as failures -- joys as well as sorrows -- and neither one implies the other. Nothing is lost or won in advance, and we must admit all possibilities if we are to be on the side of truth.* As Ecclesiastes reminds us:
"I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all."
Therefore, reasonable people ought to question Mr. Burgess' stark claim that "[o]ne does not know at what moment the other shoe will drop in a relationship, but the fact it will drop at some point is not in doubt." But by the same token they should not dismiss the idea. It would be naive to pretend that tastes and interests do not vary widely. Who could reasonably expect two people, swept together by physical attraction or chance acquaintanceship, should find each other completely agreeable? Perfection itself can be a flaw. And when "a relationship is going especially well especially quickly" this may mean that character and personality have been submerged in a torrent of excitement and passion. When hearts are skipping beats while butterflies dance in stomachs and fire (or adrenaline) courses through veins, cold objectivity is both difficult and undesirable. Blemishes are harder to discern on a flushed cheek.
C. Wright Mills observed in The Sociological Imagination that "the purpose of definition is to focus argument upon fact, and...the proper result of good definition is to transform argument over terms into disagreement about fact, and thus open arguments to further inquiry." A sociological theory -- such as the concept of the "other shoe" -- is a special kind of definition. Not only must it help us focus our thoughts, but it must also enable us to develop and expand our understanding of people and the societies in which they live. To that end, it must contain minimal assumptions and prejudices. If theories have ideological subtexts then they may shed false or at least misleading light on factual evidence. Because it does not take a neutral philosophical stance, the reliability of the "other shoe" theory is thrown into question.
That said, if we construe the "other shoe" theory to mean that true love is more elusive than momentary passions would lead us to believe, then it is still a useful proposition despite its theoretical inadequacies. As suggested above, the theory indirectly reminds us that if we are unable to put our thoughts in philosophical perspective, then we are the slaves of our own impulses, and our lack of introspection is likely to often lead us into situations where "other shoes" are dropping. Provided we avoid extreme interpretations, we ought to view the theory as an invaluable and all too rare exhortation to pursue self-knowledge.
-- from the files of Ibn Toumart
* See, in particular, "The Constitution of Society" by Antony Giddens, which was a particularly influential theoretical work advancing the argument that individual human agency plays a crucial role in the creation and development of social order.
