Direct all comments and EMAIL to Don:
![]()
On Dialogue
By David Bohm
Edited by Lee Nichol
Chapter One
ON COMMUNICATION
During the past few decades, modem technology, with radio, television, air
travel, and satellites, has woven a network of communications
which puts each part of the world into almost instant contact with all
the other parts. Yet, in spite of this world-wide system of linkages, there is,
at this very moment, a general feeling that communication is breaking down
everywhere, on an unparalleled scale. People living in different nations, with
different economic and political systems, are hardly able to talk to each other
without fighting. And within any single nation, different social classes and
economic and political groups are caught in a similar
pattern of inability to understand each other. Indeed, even within each limited
group, people are talking of a "generation gap," which is such that
older and younger members do not communicate, except perhaps in a superficial
way. Moreover, in schools and universities, students tend to feel that their
teachers are overwhelming them with a flood of information
which they suspect is irrelevant to actual life. And what appears on the
radio and television, as well as in the newspapers and magazines, is generally
at best a collection of trivial and almost unrelated fragments, while at worst,
it can often be a really harmful source of confusion
and misinformation.
Because of widespread dissatisfaction with the state of affairs described
above, there has been a growing feeling of concern to solve what is now commonly called "the problem of communication."
But if one observes efforts to solve this problem, he will notice that
different groups who are trying to do this are not actually able to listen to
each other. As a result, the very attempt to improve communication leads
frequently to yet more confusion, and the consequent sense of frustration
inclines people ever further toward aggression and violence, rather than toward
mutual understanding and trust.
If one considers the fact that communication is breaking down and that in
the present context efforts to prevent this from happening generally tend to
accelerate the breakdown, he may perhaps pause in his thinking, to give
opportunity to ask whether the difficulty does not originate in some more
subtle way that has escaped our mode of formulating what is going wrong. Is it
not possible that our crude and insensitive manner of thinking about
communication and talking about it is a major factor behind our inability to
see what would be an intelligent action that would end the present
difficulties?
It may be useful to begin to discuss this question by considering the
meaning of the word "communication." This is based
on the Latin commun and the suffix "ie" which is similar to "fie," in that it
means "to make or to do." So one meaning of "to
communicate" is "to make something common," i.e., to convey
information or knowledge from one person to another in as accurate a way as
possible. This meaning is appropriate in a wide range of contexts. Thus, one
person may communicate to another a set of directions as to how to carry out a
certain operation. Clearly, a great deal of our industry and technology depends
on this kind of communication.
Nevertheless, this meaning does not cover all that is
signified by communication. For example, consider a dialogue. In such a
dialogue, when one person says something, the other person does not in general
respond with exactly the same meaning as that seen by the first person. Rather,
the meanings are only similar and not identical. Thus, when the second person
replies, the first person sees a difference between what he meant to say and
what the other person understood. On considering this difference, he may then be
able to see something new, which is relevant both to his own views and to those
of the other person. And so it can go back and forth, with the continual
emergence of a new content that is common to both participants. Thus, in a
dialogue, each person does not attempt to make common certain ideas or items of
information that are already known to him. Rather, it may be
said that the two people are making something in common, i.e., creating
something new together.
But of course such communication can lead to the creation of something new only if people are
able freely to listen to each other, without prejudice, and without trying to
influence each other. Each has to be interested primarily in truth and
coherence, so that he is ready to drop his old ideas and intentions, and be
ready to go on to something different, when this is called for. If, however,
two people merely want to convey certain ideas or points of view to each other,
as if these were items of information, then they must inevitably fail to meet.
For each will hear the other through the screen of his own thoughts, which he
tends to maintain and defend, regardless of whether or not they are true or
coherent. The result will of course be just the sort of confusion
that leads to the insoluble problem of communication" which has been
pointed out and discussed earlier.
Evidently, communication in the sense described above is necessary in all
aspects of life. Thus, if people are to cooperate (i.e., literally to
"work together") they have to be able to create something in common,
something that takes shape in their mutual discussions and actions, rather than
something that is conveyed from one person who acts as an authority to the
others, who act as passive instruments of this authority.
Even in relationships with inanimate objects and with nature in general,
something very like communication is involved. Consider, for example, the work
of an artist. Can it properly be said that the artist
is expressing himself, i.e., literally "pushing outward" something
that is already formed inside of him? Such a description is not in fact
generally accurate or adequate. Rather, what usually happens is that the first
thing the artist does is only similar in certain ways to what he may have in
mind. As m a conversation between two people, he sees the similarity and the
difference, and from this perception something further emerges in his next
action. Thus, something new is continually created
that is common to the artist and the material on which he is working.
The scientist is engaged in a similar "dialogue" with nature (as
well as with his fellow human beings). Thus, when a scientist has an idea, this
is tested by observation. When it is found (as
generally happens) that what is observed is only similar to what he had in mind
and not identical, then from a consideration of the similarities and the
differences he gets a new idea which is in turn tested. And so it goes, with
the continual emergence of something new that is common to the thought of
scientists and what is observed in nature. This
extends onward into practical activities, which lead to the creation of new
structures that are common to man and to the overall environment in which he
lives.
It is clear that if we are to live in harmony with ourselves and with
nature, we need to be able to communicate freely in a creative movement in
which no one permanently holds to or otherwise defends his own ideas. Why then
is it so difficult actually to bring about such communication?
This is a very complex and subtle question. But it may perhaps be said that
when one comes to do something (and not merely to talk about it or think about
it), one tends to believe that one already is listening to the other person in
a proper way. It seems then that the main trouble is that the other person is
the one who is prejudiced and not listening. After all, it is easy for each one
of us to see that other people are "blocked" about certain questions,
so that without being aware of it, they are avoiding the confrontation of
contradictions in certain ideas that may be extremely dear to them.
The very nature of such a "block" is, however, that it is a kind
of insensitivity or "anesthesia" about one's own contradictions.
Evidently then, what is crucial is to be aware of the nature of one's own
"blocks." If one is alert and attentive, he can see for example that
whenever certain questions arise, there are fleeting sensations of fear, which
push him away from consideration of these questions, and of pleasure, which
attract his thoughts and cause them to be occupied
with other questions. So one is able to keep away from whatever it is that he
thinks may disturb him. And as a result, he can be subtly defending his own
ideas, when he supposes that he is really listening to what other people have
to say.
When we come together to talk, or otherwise to act in common, can each one of us be aware of the subtle fear and pleasure sensations that "block" his ability to listen freely? Without this awareness, the injunction to listen to the whole of what is said will have little meaning. But if each one of us can give full attention to what is actually "blocking" communication while he is also attending properly to the content of what is communicated, then we may be able to create something new between us, something of very great significance for bringing to an end the at present insoluble problems of the individual and of society.
Direct all comments and EMAIL to Don:
![]()