Commentar
Language, Images, and Ethics
Stanley
DAVID
I
w: STANLEY
AND LEON
MAGINE,FOR A FEW MOMENTS,
G.
HIGLEY
THE SUFFOCAT-
ing dullness, the linguistic poverty of a
language used solely in the form of literal
meanings. Children learn the difference between literal and figurative meanings of
words and expressions early in life, and purposely confusing them becomes a form of
youthful humor. One of us recalls just such
an example. After telling the seven-year old
to "hop out of the tub now," the house echoed with a great splash followed by a booming thud. Of course, the future terrorist literally had hopped from the tub.
Our language is rich, expressive, and often humorous because it is spiced with various literary devices, such as metaphor. The
word "metaphor" is rooted in Greek, meaning to transfer. In its formal sense, a metaphor is the transfer of a term to an object or
action to which the term does not literally
apply. One of our favorites comes from the
late F. P. Adams, a New York columnist.
Adams regarded himself easily influenced,
saying "compared to me a weather vane is
Gibraltar." Although weather vanes rarely
evoke images of rock-solid structures, Adams' metaphor beautifully conveys his point.
Metaphor works well because the transfer
invites a very direct comparison, and the
comparison can evoke wonderfully stark
Images.
We might think metaphors have little relation to ethics (except, perhaps, in the case
of mixing them, a crime for which many of
us share a heavy burden of guilt). The ethical
content in metaphors and other forms of
figurative language lies in their power. Far
beyond their force to invite evocative comparisons, metaphors can shape thoughtsours as well as those of the people and
groups we hope to influence. To that extent,
our choice and use of metaphor is closely
connected to ethics.
We began this rumination because of a
bumper sticker: the car in front of us bore a
bumper sticker which read fight drugs.
Conducting war on our social ailments is a
common metaphor in our culture. We are
exhorted to fight drugs, fight crime, fight
pollution, fight violence, fight overpopulation, fight the conservatives, fight the liber14
Higley
als, fight illiteracy, fight the intellectual elite,
fight every perceived and actual social problem. The idea of making war on social ills illustrates the power of metaphor. Metaphors can set the terms of perception and
debate. Let us explore this in a bit more detail. Instead of combative images in our social debates, consider the influence of constructive,alternative meta phors. For example,
constructive images could completely recast
the language of social concerns. Instead of
making war on drugs, complete with a
"Drug Czar" and battalions by the score of
federal, state, and community combatants,
we might associate positive images with
avoiding drugs. Instead of fighting poverty,
usually by punishing the poor, we might lift
up education (even entomological education) as a road to better living. This column
is not about recommending alternatives to
the national agenda, even if the agenda
seems deeply flawed. It is about the power of
figurative language. In these and in many
other issues metaphors can shape our language and our thoughts.
The last holiday season provoked us to
look at another aspect of the ethical content
of the language we use and do not use. Although we hear a great deal about diversity,
we can make our community inhospitable
through unspoken or tacit exclusions. As a
major scientific society, one of our main
themes is recognizing our role as players in
an international theater. Our reticulation of
international connections gives us a special
opportunity and responsibility to express
leadership in the wholesome embrace of an
amazing cultural, racial, religious, and linguistic diversity. A first step is acknowledging that scientific societies present growth
opportunities for all people. As members of
ESA, we can welcome the panoply of human
diversity and grow in the process.
This flow of thoughts emerged from
reading a piece on holiday traditions, all
about Christmas trees and mistletoe. A
good little essay-if we assume all readers
share in the December 25th celebration of
Christ's birth. But the 1997 holiday season
brought more possibilities. On the day before the 25th, many people celebrated Ha-
nukkah, an eight-day recognitIon of the
Maccabee liberation of Jerusalem and the
miracle of the oil. The 26th marked Boxing
Day in Canada and Kwanzaa in the United
States. Boxing Day comes from an English
tradition of giving small gifts to employees
and postmen. Kwanzaa, which holds no religious ties, is a spiritual and joyful celebration of the unity of African-American families, initiated on December 26, 1966, by
M. R. Karenga. Moreover, this entire holiday season was spanned by Ramadan, a
month of fasting shared by the world's Muslims. So we enjoyed a bumper crop of holiday traditions the winter of 1997, not by a
long shot limited to Christmas trees and
mistletoe.
We draw upon this diversity of holiday
traditions to illustrate an ethical dimension
of language. If we lift up holiday traditions
representing only one of the major religious
and spiritual observations, we tacitly cause
many members of our societies, individually
and collectively, to ask themselves something like, "What about us? Why aren't we
part of this community?" Overlooking the
diversity of traditions is just one example of
a broader ethical issue. Language can act as
a powerful force in creating or eroding a
community value that both welcomes and
grows from human diversity. We think
members of a professional society have an
ethical responsibility to eschew tacit exclusions in our roles in an international theater.
The importance of language in shaping
our relationships, for good or ill, holds
much subtlety but is, nevertheless, an obvious point. That language reflects the doubts
and insecurities we may hold about ourselves is less obvious. We perceive entomology as a discipline incessantly wrestling with
uncertainty and perceptions of inferiority,
as evidenced by how we refer to ourselves.
Why do we speak of "insect science" rather
than entomology? Of "professional entomologists" rather than entomologists (have
you ever heard of professional medical doctors?). And, at the other end of the spectrum, why do we speak of "nozzleheads"
rather than pesticide applicators? We
choose language to describe ourselves that
AMERICAN ENTOMOLOGIST
Spring 1998
elevates what we do or that disparages those
who lack the purity (or whatever) to be real
entomologists. Such descriptions point to
an issue, but they fail to recognize it.
Emomologists often argue that we suffer
from poor public image or, as we like to put
it in technical language, a high dork factor.
But image is not our problem. The real dilemma is that as a discipline, entomology
has not come to grips with its position as
technology rather than science. Despite the
biological importance of insects, we would
be hard pressed to intellectually justify a separate scientific discipline for their study. As
agents of practical concern, insects absolutely merit detailed and special study. So, are
entomologists scientists or technologists?
We can be both, but even among ourselves
we do not hold both roles in equal esteem.
Does the value of an intellectual pursuit
derive from the pursuit or from the technological possibilities the pursuit evokes? At
the turn of the century, a favorite toast at the
annual dinner of the Cavendish laboratory
in Cambridge was "To the electron-may it
never be of use to anybody." Nowadays, we
may not so boldly express such bias favoring the basic or theoretical over the practical,
but it exists. How many members of the
National Academy of Sciences are applied
scientists? How do we perceive entomologists in industry as compared to entomologists in university? How do we value our
work-by its contribution to basic scientific
understandings, by its contribution to scientific understandings with strong practical
import, or by its contribution to solving a
specific problem from an important pest?
We now need vigorous and broad discussion of entomology's metaphors. What
images will our metaphors evoke? Will our
internal images be ones of distrust and fear?
Or will they excite the confidence and risking needed to move ahead? Choice of metaphor can influence our images-our self-image and the received image. Will we select
metaphors to reflect an inflexible, out-oftouch branch of biology (f1at-Earthers), or
responsive, up-to-date leaders (forerunners)?
Will our metaphors limit possibilities (doorclosers), or open new frontiers (adventure
groups)?
Our individual and collective metaphors
will powerfully influence how we project
ourselves into a rapidly changing, challenging future. Let us not go unarmed.
•
Leon Higley is professor of entomology
at the University of Nebraska. David Stanley is professor of entomology at the University of Nebraska, where he also has an
appointment in the Center for Biological
Chemistry.
AMERICAN
ENTOMOLOGIST
Spring 1998
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