Information Technology Reference
In-Depth Information
In daily life, the use of tools is second nature to us. We seamlessly conduct our
goal-orientated activities via physical objects without the slightest awareness that
we are doing so. So accustomed are we to the use of knife and fork, computer
keyboard, can-opener and door-key, that the only times we become aware of their
presence is when they malfunction and interrupt our activity (Heidegger
1977
).
Through the complex mechanical and chemical mediation of biro on paper, we
are able to convey structures of our thought to unseen recipients. Consider the exam-
ple of a drawn diagram. Relationships between spatial and temporal elements can
be relayed clearly and concisely, with reasonable expectation that the message will
be successfully received. Moreover, by working through the details of the diagram
on paper—through sketching, drafting, and observing the formalised realisation of
our ideas—we can use the process of diagramming as a means to develop our own
thoughts (Goel
1995
). Yet, the role of the pen is completely invisible throughout. If
we were continually distracted by the task of gripping the biro and steadily applying
its nib to the paper, the task of relaying our ideas would be insurmountable.
In a well-known encounter, the physicist and Nobel laureate Richard Feynman
discusses the archive of his own pen-and-paper notes and sketches. When asked
about these “records”, Feynman retorts:
... it'snota
record
, not really. It's
working
. You have to work on paper and this is the paper.
(Clark
2008
, pp. xxv, original emphasis)
The implication here is clear. This physical transduction of ideas—through arm,
hand, pen, paper, and back to the mind via our optical apparatus—is not simply a
trace of what is going on in our mental hardware, but an integral part of the thinking
process. The application of pen on paper cannot be considered a passive artifact but
as a fundamental machinery responsible for “the shape of the flow of thoughts and
ideas” (Clark
2008
).
The above case is cited as an exemplar of what Andy Clark terms the “extended
mind” hypothesis (Clark and Chalmers
1998
). In brief, Clark argues that the adop-
tion of pen and paper and other such “cognitive scaffolds” serves to shift the actual
processes of thought outside of our brains and bodies, and that our sensorimotor
interactions with can-openers and door-keys are embodied forms of thinking. We
can consider ourselves as “open-ended systems—systems fully capable of including
non-biological props and aids as quite literally parts of [ourselves]” (Clark
2003
).
Just as our mental conditioning serves to subtly affect our reactions to tasks, so too
do the nuanced differences in the form and function of the physical tools through
which we act.
Feynman was in good company when observing that writing could be a form
of active thinking, rather than simply passive transcription. A century earlier,
Nietzsche's adoption of the typewriter had impelled him to observe that “[our] writ-
ing tools are also working on our thoughts” (Kittler
1999
). Something new emerges
from this formulation that we will return to shortly: that the causal relationship be-
tween tool and user is fundamentally reciprocal. We live through our tools, and our
tools shape our experiences. Actions with tools involve a
feedback loop
. It is our
belief that feedback loops are key to the creative process (McGraw and Hofstadter
1993
); the reader will observe them cropping up repeatedly throughout this chapter.
