The struggles of a multi-cultured brain
Years ago, I spent a few years in Australia and came to a close encounter with an unholy substance they call Vegemite. It’s tough to describe what it tastes like, but I’m sure you’ll get the picture when I say that it is made from yeast left over from brewing. I don’t think I had ever experienced anything as shockingly awful and haven’t since. It’s objectively unpalatable. Or is it?
Confoundingly, the Aussie locals have much love and many nice things to say about it. They suffer no nausea when happily spreading it all over their morning toast. How can something so horrible taste so sweet to them? It’s not just some social outliers but a whole nation of people.
My encounter with Vegemite nicely illustrates a similar problem that we have with logic. We assume logic to be universal. Whatever it is that I find logical, surely you must find it so, too. It’s only logical!
However, as soon as you take up an academic course in logic, it becomes very apparent that there is no such thing as logic that we can all agree on. Sure, certain principles are prevalent but what takes precedence can differ.
The mono-cultured human
The difference is nowhere more pronounced than in the cultures that surround us. If you are a person who grew up as part of a mono-culture and continued to live within it without ever venturing out, then you are like the Vegemite-obsessed Aussie. If you manage to dip your toe in the pool of another culture, you will probably find that arguments that used to work back home don’t work on your new friends as well, and whatever seems logical to them becomes incomprehensible to you.
And though most people are unaware of it, the way you seek to persuade others and the kinds of arguments you find persuasive are deeply rooted in your culture’s philosophical, religious, and educational assumptions and attitudes. Far from being universal, then, the art of persuasion is one that is profoundly culture-based.
Put briefly, there are two basic styles of reasoning:
Principles-first reasoning (deductive) that derives conclusions or facts from general principles or concepts.
· All men are mortal.
· Socrates is a man.
· Socrates is mortal.
Applications-first reasoning (inductive) first makes factual observations of the real world and proceeds to make general conclusions. For instance, every non-Australian that I have talked to who had tried Vegemite hated it. I hated it. Non-Australians hate Vegemite.
I’m sure matters are far more complicated than this and that people are generally capable of using both types of reasoning, but the crux of the matter is the question of what style is the default style to us. Naturally, the different default styles of reasoning rooted in our native cultures impact a lot of our practices, particularly in learning.
In a principles-first language class, learning starts with understanding the grammatical principles underpinning the language structure. Once you have a solid initial grasp of the grammar and vocabulary, you begin to practice using the language.
On the other hand, classes based on application-first learning are insane. Period.
Of course, I am joking. I have to say it in case you’re from a low-context culture and feel uneasy now.
In a class that’s based on application-first reasoning, your teacher will simply assault you with a barrage of questions in the target language, and the fact that you don’t get anything is perfectly fine. Eventually, you’ll get it, begin experimenting and participate.
I have no doubt that you can adapt to either style, but which class would more likely make you cry? Which style would likely make you panic and drop out? I’m sure it is obvious which reasoning style is closer to my full-sized aortic pump. (This is a Friends reference in the event that you weren’t yet alive in the ‘90s’ or soon after).
Additionally, there are differences in how texts are structured. Even simple emails to colleagues as well as big, sophisticated books.
European continental cultures tend to be principles-first cultures and it is clearly observable in what’s called continental philosophy. Texts following this reasoning will first introduce the topic, build their argument, appeal to logic, and build a general principle. Then, potential concerns are raised and addressed, and finally, the conclusion is reached and explained. Sometimes you just have to wait to the end to find out what’s said. (Unless you are French. Then the conclusion tends to be… well… je ne sais quoi… and you might never know the quoi of the argument). Contrarily, applications-first texts (Anglo-Saxon cultures) are very straightforward. You are supposed to get to the point quickly and stick to it. One of my profs in Scotland once told me and I quote: “When I’m reading an essay, I don’t want it to be a detective novel.” Meaning, you do not save the best for last. We all know that nobody is going to get that far.
It would be nice if I could end this little philippic there, but, sadly, there’s another problem. What if you happen to be a person who grew up as part of one system of reasoning and then spent their intellectually formative years within the other system?
The multi-cultured human
Speaking from experience, you certainly will have a greater understanding of how people from other cultures operate. You won’t be as dogmatic about things, but you might also become profoundly confusing to any and all who are firmly rooted in mono-cultures. Like me, you might be obsessed with the principles of things and write about them mostly in the get-to-the-point style while relying on highly wrought, frilly language to make it look less cracker-barrel gullibly naïve. At the same time, you will probably find continental texts about brilliant ideas absurdly tedious. Who understands Kant anyway…
Having a multi-cultured brain is like embodying the old Austro-Hungarian Empire. Your eagle is two-headed. You are a mess and mostly mired in irrelevant bureaucracy that somehow seems pivotal. Despite all of that, you certainly are interesting.
However, not to spare you a decent conclusion, if your foreign friends seem incomprehensibly illogical, or no one understands what it is you are saying although you feel like it is clear, perhaps just mind the gap… in reasoning!
Meyer, Erin. The Culture Map
