http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/cdri/jpeg/Mafa048.jpg

Intersectionality and assertions about colour — and just what matters

Here are two statements, one brief, the other not-so-brief, let’s call it.

1. “The sky is blue”
2. “Despite common belief, colour is not an objective data point. Rather, it’s a visual property that is only perceived through specific physiological and cognitive processes, and it’s largely shaped by visual contexts. So, when the sun’s light particles hit the Earth’s atmosphere and travel through various gases and other matter, those with short and small waves are scattered more widely. The result is that humans visually perceive the “expanse of air” above us (phenomenologically speaking) as “blue” in standard English.

Naively, one may claim both statements assert the same thing.

However, regarding statement 1, if someone comes from a certain linguistic background and cultural setting, that is, a context in which there is widespread agreement — and likely a predominantly monolingual one since green-blue varieties are physiologically harder to distinguish than other colours, resulting in many language sharing different basic colour terms for such shades — regarding the properties and hue of the “short” end of the colour spectrum, and also a context in which the sky is predominantly “conceptualized” as it is seen during a sunny day —and perhaps from a relatively flat landscape from the perspective of one on the ground—then they may not even be aware of the proverbial “iceberg” of assumptions and presuppositions that go into the meaning and function of such a statement.

And all these are items that one must understand before properly determining a statement’s veracity or evaluating its usefulness broadly. In fact, one might even naively believe that statement 1 lays itself open for immediate observation, scrutiny, and discussion in all contexts.

In short (if that was a bit dense, and I do apologize for that), statement 1 assumes a lot from its reader.

Regarding statement 2, it is the result of an attempt to systematically explain the context and processes behind a very “human” claim, namely, one about “celestial” colour perception and “predication” (that is, making a judgement that can be used as a basis for others). Statement 2 makes explicit what such an assertion of “being” about the “colour” of the “sky” might mean, imply, or entail. It seeks to give a more universal understanding that can be readily and deeply analyzed, as difficult as this might be, and at the risk of confusing the reader, I admit.

But what is more (and perhaps ironically so), in seeking to provide such broader contexts, such an explicit and admittedly wordy assertion risks alienating the voice of (or even meriting the scorn of) those who are unfortunately ignorant of perspectives beyond their immediate context or knowledge. However, I submit, with empathy, a willingness to listen, at least some bit of curiosity, and most of all humility, such a risk is readily mitigated.

Nevertheless, both assertions, in this case, are strengthened not only by logic and well-founded reasoning, but also the sheer amount and type of data we have, whether through the personal experience of looking at the sky, or through taking the time to listen and learn something new.

You see, to those with little or only a cursory knowledge of “semantics” (the study of meaning in linguistics) or optics or “atmospheric science,” let’s call it, they may have to rely on established authorities, and there is nothing wrong with this. In fact, most of us are in this situation for most of the substantive claims we make. Especially in today’s globalized world and in light of the “data revolution”, it is more obvious than ever that no one is or could be the total master of such an interdisciplinary assortment of studies.

Even so, though, one could make baby steps to approach an understanding as needed. For example, one could do simple experiments like reflecting light through a prism in different environments, enrol in courses online, consult experts who make themselves accessible, or just make mindful observations about the world they find themselves in.

Naively, one might call this “faith.” However, such a term easily implies the impossibility of gaining this understanding, or derides the utility and need to gain such understanding when it comes to other matters of greater “substance,” let’s say.

For the sake of not an argument, but as a thought experiment, let’s suppose both of the previous “predications” are accurate enough descriptions of reality. What should we, then, make of these following ones?

1. “The sky is red”
2. “The morning sky is fiery and gloomy. So, we can expect bad weather today. You see, our most experienced astrologers are used to analyzing such signs, and our revered ancestors once even used these kinds of signs from heaven (some more spectacular than others) to predict ominous events. — To those who can hear and understand, the interpretation is clear, and I will personally show this to be true. But woe to those who refuse to accept my words, even simply the works I do in his name!

Again, naively, one may claim both statements assert the same thing. But it depends. Do you see where I’m going? Let the reader beware.

“Let the reader beware.”

Again, having at least considered how language, context, and their intersection matter, perhaps the need or utility of the kind of statement that the second is can be more readily appreciated, even if (!) one does not agree. Notice that it’s not the volume of words that makes the second statement more “interesting,” let’s say, to consider, but rather the (perhaps vague, but nevertheless salient) challenge it presents and complex systems and concepts its language evokes.

I would submit that the second speaks to a reality beyond the level of what can or should be “proved” or “disproved”, analogous to data. Instead, it speaks to the intentions behind why one would focus (purposely or not) on the data that they do, and from here on what information, knowledge, and insight such data can yield and its significance and implications for the intersection of various experiences, traditions, and even myths about the sky, signs, good and evil, and most of all, colour.

To show that this is so, try this. Imagine someone engaging in defensive claims or debates to “prove” as a binary truth that “the sky is blue” or disprove similarly that “the sky is red”, even to the point of carrying out extensive research and finding experts who agree with them. This person is missing the entire point of the statement.

To state the obvious, such a person is so embedded in their own experience, traditions, and perhaps myths about “sky” and “colour” and “being” that to make such a challenge threatens to make an uncomfortable wrinkle with the power to unravel their entire ideological tapestry. Such a person may even call on all others of their kind to mount a supreme resistance in kind.

This is a game we must not play if our societies want to do justice to the skies, let alone colours. And again, perhaps ironically, with its realization of “tribes” and what it means to be members of different ones, intersectionality is a tool that stops us humans from playing that kind of game.

Interestingly (at least to my tribe of “language nerds”), in Latin the term sectiō, meaning something like a “cutting,” in ancient Roman times referred to the “cutting” up of the items of a confiscated estate and its sale to the public. For what it’s worth, the full compound intersectiō was used in a more mundane way to talk about a kind of column architecture. Go figure.

Today, the concept of “intersectionality” (whose Latin roots mean something like “the idea of cutting through things”) is a framework for understanding how the diverse socio-cultural categories in which one finds themself “cut through” each other in disparate ways. You see, the different categories we find ourselves in interact to form new, overlapping and/or interdependent systems that we must recognize as such if we want to understand those who are telling us (and dare I say, showing us signs) that right now “the sky is red.”

As to the concept of intersectionality, consider by analogy the periodic table in chemistry. This framework works by illustrating how certain combinations of atomic particles form “elements” that have a “being” and exhibit a “behaviour” that is not simply the sum of their parts. Instead, elements find themselves with the power to create interdependent groups in molecular structures and the like (think of “noble gases” or the “carbon group”) with unique features based on a diversity and spectrum of characteristics like ionization energy, atomic radius, or electronegativity.

At least in spirit, the project of intersectionality applies the insight that “things are not the sum of their parts” to the sociological level, that is (and again, perhaps ironically), beyond the level of personal experience or personal knowledge. By its very design it prevents insular and parochial thinking. Its framework is made to grow in scope and depth as facts and logic substantiate the asserted statements and experiences of a growing multitude. It prompts us to look past our “selves” and stop “self-referencing” all our experiences, and instead seek the common good.

“Things are not the sum of their parts.”

Now, I realize that to some people, the above may fall on flat ears. To some who insist on conserving (perhaps unknowingly) certain myths and traditions, there is a now mature opposition (some might even call it a religion) to the very concept of intersectionality (as opposed to its alleged excesses or faults in practice).

To this point, I can’t help but recall a saying of a revered teacher of mine. This teacher also had a mature opposition who, among other things, balked at the idea that Samaritan lives were of neighbourly concern, who had little concern for the matters of society’s outcasts, and who did not regard the lives of those deemed demon-possessed or impure. As recorded in the Greek of his time, he said to this opposition at its height: ὁ μὴ ὢν μετ᾿ ἐμοῦ κατ᾿ ἐμοῦ ἐστιν, καὶ ὁ μὴ συνάγων μετ᾿ ἐμοῦ σκορπίζει. I would render this in English something like: “The one not standing with me is against me. And the one not gathering with me is scattering.”

“The one not standing with me is against me. And the one not gathering with me is scattering.”

Let me assert one more statement about colour, but not about the sky, and not as a thought experiment, but as a matter of life and death today.

1. Black lives matter.

I don’t have a second statement to amplify this because I am not an expert here. Instead, I rely on established authorities, and there is nothing wrong with this, and you would do well to listen to them whether you agree or not.

To be explicit, intersectionality has helped me make baby steps to approach an understanding of experiences beyond what I can immediately observe personally. The experiments I conduct, the materials I study, and the experts I consult are helping me to grow. And the more I learn and as my worldview is made more complete, the more I realize that the research is copious, the evidence makes sense, and the logic is evident.

As someone who cares about all lives, blacks lives matter, period. To argue against this or call into question whether black lives matter leaves any life vulnerable, and that is something neither I nor my revered teacher can abide. If you find yourself saying “black lives matter, but…” then the truth is you are not standing with me or my teacher, nor his way, nor his truth, nor his life.

Black lives matter.