A Nice Dilemma We Have Here

I began to be attracted to dilemma when I was an undergraduate at Wheaton and got to sing as part of the jury in a performance of Gilbert and Sullivan's Trial By Jury. "A nice dilemma we have here," sing the principals, "which calls for all our wit." It was mostly a nostalgic memory for me. Then, in 1974, Robert Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance was published. It contained some very practical advice for people facing dilemmas.

"What Phaedrus had been presented with by the facul­ty of the English Department of Montana State College was an ancient logical construct known as a dilemma. A dilemma, which is Greek for "two premises," has been likened to the front end of an angry and charging bull.

If he accepted the premise that Quality was objective, he was impaled on one horn of the dilemma. If he accepted the other premise, that Quality was subjective, he was impaled on the other horn. Either Quality is objec­tive or subjective, therefore he was impaled no matter how he answered.

Phaedrus, however, because of his training in logic, was aware that every dilemma affords not two but three classic refutations, and he also knew of a few that weren't so classic, so he smiled back. He could take the left horn and refute the idea that objectivity implied scientific de­tectability. Or, he could take the right horn, and refute the idea that subjectivity implies "anything you like." Or he could go between the horns and deny that subjectivity and objectivity are the only choices. You may be sure he tested out all three. In addition to these three classical logical refutations there are some illogical, "rhetorical" ones. Phaedrus, being a rhetorician, had these available too.

One may throw sand in the bull’s eyes. He had al­ready done this with his statement that lack of knowledge of what Quality is constitutes incompetence.

One may attempt to sing the bull to sleep. Phaedrus could have told his questioners that the answer to this di­lemma was beyond his humble powers of solution, but the fact that he couldn't find an answer was no logical proof that an answer couldn't be found.

A third rhetorical alternative to the dilemma, and the best one in my opinion, was to refuse to enter the arena. Phaedrus could simply have said, "The attempt to classify Quality as subjective or objective is an attempt to define it. I have already said it is undefinable," and left it at that."

I had just finished writing my dissertation at the time and was still very much attracted to the idea that you didn't always have to choose the horn on the left or the horn on the right. It also struck me for the first time when I read this passage that lemma meant something. Whoodathunkit?

So what kind of dilemma does a dilettante have? Since dilettante is defined, etymologically, as I do it, by what the person delights in, it doesn't sound too bad. Still, just as there are events you attend to on the basis of skills you attend from--more about both terms in a moment--there is the dilemma of what to pay attention to. If these are not the "horns" of a dilemma, they are...oh...the cushions.

I am hoping only to introduce in this post how it is that a dilettante would necessarily have dilemmas, so I will touch these two ideas, illustrate each, and send the post on its way. I think of "attending from" and "attending to" as a physical matter and as a cognitive matter. For those who are interested in the ideas themselves, the best short account is probably Michael Polanyi's marvellous little book, The Tacit Dimension.

Physically, I take all the infrastructure of hitting a baseball for granted so that I can attend to the ball itself. I attend FROM my stance in the box and my grip on the bat and the weight of the bat, et cetera, TO the ball. The dilemma is that you can't attend to both. Nothing works then. You have to attend TO the one FROM the other. And all is well if the infrastructure is stable and effective. It it isn't, you have to pay attention to it. Is my stance too wide? But then you are attending TO something you really need to be attending FROM if you are actually going to hit the ball. Batting slumps and other disasters ensue.

Cognitively, I assume certain things so I can attend to others. I assume that the behavior of public actors of all sorts, politicians for instance, is self-interested. To be fair, "self-interest" is a good thing and it may be minimal, as in staving off electoral disaster, or maximal, as in milking every situation for its maximum benefit to ME. Attending FROM this assumption, this lemma, I can observe acutely and accurately, the behavior of whatever public actors interest me. Should I be forced to doubt my assumption, to attend TO it--maybe there are kinds of instances or kinds of persons where this lemma does not hold-- rather than FROM it, the whole regime of observations goes awry and I fall into an "inference slump," which is like the batting slump, but harder to find and fix.

Even people like me who are spontaneously attracted to the delights of his own life face this dilemma. If you take real satisfaction in understanding what you are doing--that has been a prominent part of my life since the age of four--you have a source of satisfaction that is rich and extensive. But if you take pleasure in the events themselves, in the experience of them as opposed to the understanding of them, you find yourself facing the attending TO v. attending FROM dilemma.

I really suspect that my life would be richest and most satisfying if I attended sometimes TO and sometimes FROM, but that mealy-mouthed bit of advice is useful only if you know which is which, or rather when is when, and I confess that I do not. At least, I don't all the time.

A nice dilemma I have here.