Author: Eric Attica

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RE:

RE: Not Knowing

Eric Attica 2023

Here’s something I’ve been thinking about.

In my culture, knowing is a virtue. It’s a symbol of power to know things (presidents and professors and CEOs are expected to be in the know), and an embarrassment to be ignorant.

Have you ever pretended to know something, or have seen something? I’ve said I’ve seen Psych, even though I’ve only seen two episodes all the way through, and I’ve definitely pretended to know the story of Orpheus in Greek mythology. What if I asked you right now why the sky is blue? Do you know? Would you pretend to know?

As a scholar-in-training, it’s my job to know things. But I can only learn things if I admit I don’t know them. Yesterday I realized that I really don’t know how rivers work. Where does the water actually come from? Why doesn’t the water run out? Why is it easier to grow things around rivers? Dumb questions—anyway, I found and read an article for grades 5–12 about how rivers work, and now I think I understand the world a little better.

It’s the ancient question: Why was Socrates wise? The prophetess says there is no man wiser than he, and Socrates decides to try find a wiser person in order to test her words. “I know that I have no wisdom, small or great,” he says. He talks to all occupations of society and discovers that that they are all less wise than they think they are, and realizes that he his wise not because his wisdom is great, but because he accurately knows that he knows nothing.

Ignorance may not be a virtue, but being honest about one’s ignorance is. What do you think? Have you asked any “dumb questions” lately?

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RE:

RE: Parasocial Relationships

Headshot of Ewan McGregor as Obi-Wan Kenobi
In one psychological study, being watched by a picture of Obi-Wan had the same effect on performing a task as being watched by a real human, to the extent that participants had a “relationship” with Obi-Wan. Nifty! (License: Paul Bird, CC BY 2.0 , via Wikimedia Commons)

I’m starting a new series of short-form posts called “RE:” that weigh in on a topic in 300 words or less, based on the principle that it’s better to blog something than nothing at all. Enjoy this first entry!

Here’s something I’ve been thinking about.

I’ve been listening to Brandon Sanderson and Dan Wells’ talk-about-anything podcast, Intentionally Blank (2021–), and I think I’m starting to build a relationship with these guys. A one-sided relationship, of course, but in some ways it’s similar to a real one. I’m excited to hear their takes on the latest media, and I recognize the names of their college friends they’ve mentioned on the show. I have a decent idea of Brandon’s daily schedule and what kind of books Dan might appreciate as a gift.

Media scholars and psychologists have a term for this—“parasocial relationships”, which were the topic of a literature review I wrote back when I was a psychology major. Emotionally, these “relationships” with celebrities or fictional characters share some features of “normal” social relationships, like loyalty, comfort, and even “breakup” (like that feeling of finishing the last book in a series).

New mass communication technologies during my lifetime alone have made it easier than ever to become a public figure or influencer and build parasocial relationships with one’s audience. Though I’m not convinced that this is a new phenomenon; buying mass-produced 役者絵 (yakusha-e) prints of your favorite actors was all the rage in 1800s Japan. But who knows? Advertising has already left the social sphere and entered the parasocial, mass-media sphere. Maybe next century, we’ll all be getting educated by the Green brothers, and parasocial teaching relationships will replace social ones.

Are parasocial relationships harmful, or are they just a part of living in the digital age? What famous “friends” do you have? Let me know in the comments!

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Random

The Best Paper I Ever Wrote

Paintings of William Blake and Joshua Reynolds
William Blake (left) and Sir Joshua Reynolds (right). Neither would be smiling if they were actually next to each other.

As I’m now a senior on the downward slope of my undergraduate education, the time has come to reflect on the moments that have brought me to this point.

My humanities class back in summer 2023 required us to write short papers in response to the literature and art we studied. This particular professor was one I had taken a course from before, and I’d tested the waters by ending my term paper on Socrates in aporia rather than giving a proper conclusion, so I figured I’d risk straying into the realm of goofy.

When we got to William Blake, I wrote my paper in response to a particularly eloquent remark he directed at the highly refined portrait painter Sir Joshua Reynolds: “This Man was Hired to Depress Art.” Please enjoy.

Un-Depressing Art (pdf) ∎