- Email: [email protected]
The three-dimensional sign
Language Sciences, Vol. 19, No. 1, pp. 23-31, 1997 Copyright © 1996 Elsevier Science Ltd Printed in Great Britain. All rights reserved 0388-0001/96 $15.00+0.00
Pergamon 0388-0001(95)00024-0
THE THREE-DIMENSIONAL SIGN DANIEL R. DAVIS This paper discusses the implications of the three-dimensional sign proposed by Harris (1990), for general linguistic theory and the philosophy of language. The principal characteristics of the three-dimensional sign (contextuality, cotemporality, communicationalrelevance, and experiential grounding) are set against those of the two-dimensional sign (arbitrariness and linearity). The study of history is suggested as a model for the identification and study of relevant experience. Finally, the position or locus of languages with respect to communicationand the three-dimensional sign must necessarily be that of a second-order, metalinguistic cultural construct. One of the most striking and perplexing notions which Harris deploys in his work is that of the three-dimensional sign: ' . . . the sign is not given in advance of the communication situation but is itself constituted in the context of that situation by virtue of the integrational role it fulfils,' (Harris, 1990, p. 45), or, put another way, 'what constitutes a sign is not given independently of the situation in which it occurs or of its material manifestation in that situation.' (Harris, 1984; Love, 1990a, p. 225). The integrational linguistics which Harris proposes departs from orthodox linguistics in that it does not limit the sign to the two dimensions of form and meaning. The two-dimensional sign has its expression most clearly in Saussure's Cours de linguistique g~n~rale: ' A linguistic sign is not a link between a thing and a name, but between a concept and a sound pattern.' (Saussure, 1983, p. 98); 'So we can envisage the linguistic phenomenon in its entirety--the language, that it--as a series of adjoining subdivisions simultaneously imprinted on both on the plane of vague, amorphous thought (A), and on the equally featureless plane of sound (B).' (Saussure, 1983, pp. 155-156). That is, the two dimensions of this sign are meaning and sound patterning (one might use the word form for this, although it would seem to apply to both segmentation and patterning of meaning and the segmentation and patterning of sound). Although it is perhaps most prominently expressed by Saussure, this notion can be traced throughout the history of twentieth century linguistics. Even a comparatively recent textbook on government and binding speaks of phonetic form and semantic representations which, though related to certain syntactic levels of representation, are nonetheless distinct from these (Haegeman, 1991, pp. 444-445). The two-dimensional sign, as formulated by Saussure, is first, arbitrary and second, linear. These two characteristics in effect remove the sign from communicational context and make the notion of a language system possible. Arbitrariness between sound pattern and meaning or concept opens the possibility and creates the necessity that values are set (and signs are constituted) by their relations one to another, that is, within the context of the system, instead
Correspondence relating to this paper should be addressed to Dr Daniel Davis, Department of English, University of Hong Kong, Pokfulan Road, Hong Kong. 23
24
DANIEL R. DAVIS
of within the context of the communicational event. Linearity makes possible sequential or syntagmatic relationships between signs, without locating those signs precisely in time (which would imply a context). These syntagmatic relations are again, essential in both the definition of the signs and the establishment of the language system. Harris's work situates this modern linguistic tradition within the intellectual and cultural traditions of Western Europe. Essentially, the two-dimensional sign is a way of seeing language which derives from the textual practices and technologies developed in Europe from the ancient period onward. Arbitrariness follows from a contractualist approach to language such as that of the classical grammarian; what is important is not the relation between words and their referents, but that words are used correctly, according to rules. From this traditional position to the Saussurean position is a short hop, if the rules in question are seen as relationships constituting signs, rather than as prescriptive admonitions (Harris, 1980, pp. 108-110). Furthermore, the model for language-internal definition (where the meaning of a word is expressed in terms of other words of the same language) is the monolingual dictionary (Harris, 1980, pp. 133, 139). Linearity, as the basis for a successive relationship between signs which is not inherently temporal, is most conclusively exemplified by the written and especially printed text. The significance of this point is that arbitrariness, linearity, and the twodimensional sign do not have the status of 'facts about human language', but rather, are to be seen as culturally-conditioned ways of viewing human language behaviour. The inability of orthodox linguistics to come to terms with its own historical heritage has, according to Harris, resulted in a gridlock. Orthodox linguistics (and for that matter, philosophy) is unable to progress precisely because it is unable to identify genuine issues of language inquiry, as opposed to rather artificial tasks deriving from assumptions taken on faith. The problem with linguistics is first, the way in which metalinguistic terminology drawn from the Western tradition has been removed from its original communicational context and taken as identifying inherent facts of language, and second, the kind of doublethink which is required when this terminology is applied to language behaviour in order to forge linguistic data. Anyone who has undertaken primary linguistic research and language description is aware of this kind of abstracting and regularizing process. The data so created constitute a distraction from linguistic behaviour, that is, from the practices which create and give meaning to signs. The three-dimensional sign arises within this discourse. The way out of the gridlock is a reassessment of the sign in linguistics, semiotics, and philosophy. A two-dimensional sign must be replaced by a three-dimensional sign as a conceptual basis for these studies, no matter how difficult this may be (given our cultural and educational pre-disposition toward the former). One could say that the three-dimensional sign is an 'alternative' to the two-dimensional sign, but this does not recognize the mythic status of the notion of language within which the twodimensional sign is embedded (Harris, 1990, p. 52). One could say that the recognition of the language myth as such, and the attempt to found an approach to language which gets round this, requires the formulation of a competing myth. And, in so far as it is an 'alternative' to the two-dimensional sign, the three-dimensional sign is this sort of competing myth. What would this three-dimensional sign be? At its most simple, the three dimensions of the sign are the three dimensions of space, that is, height, breadth, and depth. The sign always has a location; it always has a context. This does not mean (pace orthodox theory and sociolinguistics both) that the two-dimensional sign is at any given time realized or used within a three-dimensional context; it means that symbolic behaviour is just as much a part of the context as any other behaviour, and that individuals treat it as such. It is not a question of adding
THE THREE-DIMENSIONAL SIGN
25
a spatial dimension to the two dimensions of form and meaning, since this would not differ in any principled fashion from the way in which the context of the two-dimensional sign is dealt with in mainstream present-day linguistics, especially sociolinguistics. If one says that the three dimensions of the sign are those of space, then it follows that one no longer can refer to form and meaning, but rather, to behaviour and context. Behaviour (signifying behaviour, or maybe, the sign) exists in a three-dimensional context. Putting it this way should make it clear that one cannot speak of the decontextualised meaning of a threedimensional sign in the way that one does with a two-dimensional sign. The meaning resides in the three-dimensional context. If meaning cannot be decontextualised, then one can see that it is not possible to assess the arbitrariness of the sign, as this will depend entirely on the behaviour and the context. That is to say, whether or not there is a necessary relationship between signifying behaviour and how it is interpreted will depend on the context. This also has implications for linearity. In the first place, linearity is not necessary for establishing the meaning of the three-dimensional sign in the same way that it is for the meaning of the two-dimensional sign. The location of meaning in context means that it is not necessary that it be constituted by relations with other signs, and therefore it is not necessary to posit linearity as the basis for syntagmatic relations. Second, by situating the sign within the context of space rather than the context of the system, the three-dimensional sign is subject to time and is contextualised by succession in time. The term Harris has used for this is co-temporality. Language behaviour occurs in the same context and time as other forms of behaviour, and participating individuals integrate and interpret both forms of behaviour in the same way, without any necessary distinction between them (Harris, 1981, p. 155). The point here is that individuals are engaged in the process of making sense of a particular context, within that context. Anything within that context could potentially be of relevance to the process of making sense. This includes what is happening, what has just happened, and what has happened in the past within the experience of the individual. The individual need make no distinction between linguistic and non-linguistic behaviour in his or her interpretation; but the individual must continually impose or assume a temporal assessment or sequencing of now, just now, and then in order to come up with and develop an interpretation. Co-temporality and linearity share the condition of sequencing, but linearity divorces this from experiential time and situates it within the abstract language system. That is, linearity pertains only to linguistic behaviour, and particularly to syntagmatic aspects of that behaviour. Co-temporality requires no such distinction, and does not limit the sequencing act to the sentence, but rather argues that temporal sequence is equally important and similarly based in the processes of assigning relevance, interpreting, or making sense of behavioural interaction in a given context. A possible line of objection to this notion of co-temporality might be developed on cultural, rather than linguistic grounds. This would be to say that notions of time are culturally contingent, and theretbre, co-temporality would not necessarily be part of every culture's interpretative capability. However, to offer this objection would be to misunderstand the nature of co-temporality. The claim is not that every culture must have a particular notion of time in order for communication to be possible, but rather that sequencing of actions is an essential part of an individual's interpretation of and interaction with his or her environment. The acquisition of this sequencing ability is essential to any human's survival beyond infancy, since it is involved in vital and basic aspects of behaviour such as food collection and preparation,
26
DANIEL R. DAVIS
movement, concealment, shelter, and social interaction in addition to language behaviour. Conceptions of time, be they cultural or individual, are also based in some way on this sequencing ability, though, as with these other activities, they may vary from culture to culture, or from individual to individual. One might well add that this sequencing is not restricted to humans, but can be seen to be held in common with other forms of animal life. Picking fruit, killing a squirrel, or catching a flea would not be possible without it. Just as the location of the sign in three dimensions implies its co-temporal character, so does this in its turn point to the importance of experience. The individual engaged in the interpretative act relies on context, but also on immediate, recent, and past experience. 'An integrational linguistics would be concerned with the analysis of this [communicational] improvisation as a function, simultaneously, of relevant past experience and a current communication situation.' (Harris, 1981, p. 186). Harris makes the case that the study of the communicational context must predominate, in the first place because past experience is irrecoverable, and in the second place, because it is its deployment in the communicational context which makes a particular aspect of past experience relevant (Harris, 1981, pp. 186-187). However, it should be pointed out that experience is essential to the linguistics of the three-dimensional sign, since it is this which separates it from a kind of sociolinguistics with a video camera. That is, signifying behaviour is observed in some detail within context, but the experiential basis of that context is assumed or supplied by the observer. Whether assumed or supplied, the issue of relevance is bypassed or fudged. Without reference to cotemporality and to experience, the communicational context is incomplete. Sociolinguistics and ethnomethodology make up for this shortcoming by reference to norms or to cultural practices, which take the place of individual experience in formulating the means of interpretative behaviour. 'Norms' or 'cultural practices' are an abstraction to almost the same degree as 'a language system' (see Hutton, 1990). The problem for integrational linguistics, and for the re-evaluation of the sign in three dimensions, is that 'experience' is notoriously difficult to pin down in any principled way, and 'individual experience' is most often held to be subjective by virtue of its individual character." There is, however, at least one model for integrational linguistics in its attempt to elucidate function of experience in the three-dimensional sign. This is the study of history. One could say that the study of history is an attempt to record and evaluate the experience of individuals and social groupings. It is essentially concerned with values, much like linguistics, anthropology, economics, and other social sciences, and it frequently relies on the methodologies of these areas of study. Unlike these other fields, history does not define in advance the locus of the values it is concerned with. The 'value' it is engaged in studying is not to be found a priori in, for example, a linguistic system, or a culture, or an economy, though these may be seen as relevant to an attempt to reconstruct or represent the values which explain behaviour in any relevant situation. This corresponds closely to the issues involved in the three-dimensional sign, that it is the communicational context which determines which aspects of behaviour are communicationally relevant. Second, history relies on narrative, both as a source for and medium of its study. Although the problems with the study of narrative are immense and not to be underestimated, it is nevertheless the case that narrative, in contrast to experience, appears in a form much more accessible to study, and is much more clearly defined within the academy as a subject of discourse within various fields of study, these being (at the very least) in addition to history itself, the fields of literature, folklore, rhetoric, and critical theory (see Taylor, 1992). The acts
THE THREE-DIMENSIONAL SIGN
27
of selection and construction relate narrative to experience, in the sense that the selection process can be seen as an assignment of value. This works as an indicator of what is or may be important in experience, but it also, through the purpose of the narrative, establishes what is relevant to the communicational context of the narrative. Thus narrative can be said to be the kind of bridge between the importance of experience, and the relevance to communicational context, which is required in the foundation of the three-dimensional sign. Third, history can be said to be concerned with politics in its most general sense, that is, the relationships between human beings at almost any level of social interaction and organisation, from the individual to the international. A history is a political claim; it is subject to political interpretation, evaluation, and contradiction; it is set within a political context. On the one hand, this acts as a check on the validity of the historical interpretation; on the other, it liberates the historical interpretation from almost any form of determinism, be it social, cultural, economic, or linguistic. That is, history makes claims about the nature of experience and values vis-~t-vis an individual or group, but these claims are limited to a particular context. Furthermore, both claims and contexts are subject to debate. This is precisely comparable to the contingent melding of context and experience brought about by the three-dimensional sign. Finally, history is contingent not only on the contextualisation of the subject matter, but is also contingent on the political position of the historian. The first act of a writer or reader of history is to assess this position, as it is crucial to determining the rhetorical purpose of the interpretative act. It is the same with the integrational linguist. Translating this into terms relevant to the three-dimensional sign, one might say that not only are the context of the sign and the experience of the participants important, but so too is the position of the linguist. The first communicative act which the integrational linguist undertakes to analyze is that in which he or she is engaged in, whether or not this is the same act which is the object of study. The integrational linguist is involved in a discourse with academic and political significance; he is co-temporal with this discourse; he brings his experience to it. Ultimately the reality of his description, analysis, or discussion is grounded in this interpretative and communicative act. Without an awareness of this, that is, that the object three-dimensional sign is brought into the discourse by means of a subject three-dimensional sign, there is always the danger that the object sign will be read or interpreted as a two-dimensional sign. Why? Because if the subject sign is assumed to be a two-dimensional representation, then the important qualities of the object sign will be taken to be reflected in these two-dimensions, and so its three-dimensional character will appear to be an optional extra, just another instantiation of the two-dimensional sign in another context. As was mentioned above, this is the position taken by orthodox linguistic theory and sociolinguistics. One might illustrate this by a comparison with film. There are three positions. The naive position is that the train represented on the film is real and in three dimensions; one can watch it comfortably from the side, but if it turns toward the audience it is dangerous. The orthodox position is that the film represents a reality which is not present, but which it accurately reflects; one enjoys the sensation of watching the train, one observes its essential character captured on film and is informed by this, but there is no danger. The integrational position is that one is engaged in a cultural practice, sitting in a darkened room with shadows cast on the wail; this is made possible by another cultural practice involving a camera, a kind of transfer from one context to another through two dimensions; there is danger to the subject, the means, and the object. Danger to the linguist/viewer in that he or she has the political and cultural responsibility for the interpretation which accompanies the viewing; danger to the means/camera in that it forms part of both contexts and so shares the
28
DANIEL R. DAVIS
responsibility for the screening and for the filming (financial loss at the box office and both physical harm and the effects of wielding power at the filming site); danger to the object in that it is open to re-interpretation and mis-interpretation through two dimensions, but also in that its existence is called into question by this translation. In this last scenario, one would seem to learn only about the linguist and his or her means. What is the point of integrational linguistics if the three-dimensional sign is always distanced from the linguist by another three-dimensional sign, with all the baggage it entails? There are sensible points which can be brought to bear on answering this question. First, it requires that the linguist understand his or her own position. Self-understanding (in different manifestations) is perhaps the ultimate goal of academic discourse. Second, the political and interpretative acts of the linguist can go a long way to bring together the subject and object contexts and experiences, since the linguist is not only observer but participant, acting linguistically and politically with responsibility. Third, calling into question the existence of the object sign re-affirms its contingent character and ultimately brings it into better focus; if there is anything further to be observed in connection with the object sign, it cannot be observed unless and until the observer's position and means and line of observation are taken into account. Harris has maintained that there is something to be observed of language behaviour. This can be treated in what he terms three 'scales' (Harris, 1984; Love, 1990a, p. 219) or 'levels of relevance' (Harris, 1990, p. 50), these being the biomechanical (the neural and physiological factors which determine the parameters of communication in a context), the macrosocial (the phenomena of mass behaviour such as historical and cultural factors), and the integrational (factors concerned with communication as a function of an individual's experience within a particular context). Harris argues that these pertain to all human behaviour (not merely communicational behaviour), and can be summarised as, 'what the human being is physiologically equipped to do, what the human being is collectively conditioned to do, and what the human being is individually aiming to do in given circumstances' (Harris, 1984; Love, 1990a, p. 220). Consider how the above discussion of the three-dimensional sign can be mapped against these scales. Those aspects of the signifying behaviour which are both physical and communicationally relevant, including participants, physical environment, and medium, can be considered on the biomechanical scale. Those aspects of the behaviour which are cultural and/or historical, and relevant, including social aspects of context, participants and their experience, and the medium, can be considered on the macrosocial scale. Those aspects of the behaviour which are to do with the individual participants goals, intentions, and adaptations to meet these, including anything recognised as relevant, can be considered on the integrational scale. Notice that the use of the term historical under macrosocial has to do with the past which is not entirely available to participants, whereas in the above discussion 'history' has more to do with a method for establishing or approximating participants' relevant experience in a given context. The purpose of this comparison is to show that the three scales embody the points made in the foregoing discussion of the three-dimensional sign, that is, concerning the physical and sociocultural context of the sign, its co-temporality, and the relevant experience of the participants (as approachable by historical method). An example would perhaps make this clearer. I have direct and frequent experience of the linguistic behaviour of giving large lectures at the University of Hong Kong. The following characteristics (while not constituting a detailed analysis) illustrate certain important points regarding the language behaviour which occurs in this context. First, it is not possible to give a lecture to 350 students without taking into account the size of the lecture hall and the ability
THE THREE-DIMENSIONAL SIGN
29
of the students to hear. This is on the biomechanical scale. Natural projection or artificial amplification must be used to ensure that all of the students who wish to listen may hear. This may seem so obvious as to be unworthy of mention, but it is remarkable how many lecturers are clearly unsuccessful (based on student behaviour and comments, as well as examination results) by virtue of the fact that they are not heard. There is something quite hilarious (and tellingly ironic) in a lecture given by a linguist who mumbles. Second, the lecturers and students have expectations of lectures and public gatherings, based on their (different) cultural backgrounds. The lecturer often expects to be the only one speaking. The students at the University of Hong Kong do not share this assumption, and quite often speak at full voice, not in a whisper, and not restricted to back rows. Although this could possibly be related to the integrational scale (having to do with their educational and political intentions) it is often quite clear (from the character of the students involved) that these contrasting assumptions belong on the macrosocial scale. Without extensive action taken on the lecturer's part, the students are not aware of the convention that only the lecturer should speak in a full voice. This observation is not individual and can be confirmed by other lecturers in the Faculty of Arts at the University of Hong Kong. Notice that in this case the biomechanical factor and macrosocial factors are at communicative odds. If the talking increases, less students are likely to be able to hear, in which case they will be free to participate in talking. Ultimately, the ability of the lecturer to lecture will be impaired by the level of background noise. This point belongs on the biomechanical scale. However, it is also true that the lecturer can use the level of noise as an indication of either student interest level or student reaction to a particular point made (the distinction between the two based on experiential and co-temporal factors). This belongs on the integrational scale. As a lecturer, I have the intention and goal of first, getting the student to listen, and second, inspiring them to take an interest in the subject such that it will contribute demonstrably (in examinations) to their education. Most lecturers in this context, if they have any conscious educational intentions at all, would agree, although this is a politically loaded and contentious point. However, there are a number of strategies by which lecturers attempt to integrate their experience with these aims under these conditions. One strategy is to leave the room, although this hardly achieves the goal in the first instance. Another is to order or beg the students to listen. This has dangerous authoritarian and (paradoxically) ineffective connotations, which in the political context of Hong Kong appear imperialist or colonialist and risk politicising the student body against the lecturer. A third is to entice the students with humour or mild threats. In my experience the third is the most successful, especially if the jokes are simple, accompanied by clear gesture, and related to the subject matter of the lecture. The same is true of mild threats, such as directing the discussion to an individual who is talking and not listening. The overall importance of this example is perhaps only a pedagogical footnote; however, it does serve to illustrate the character and interaction of Harris's scales in a specific communicational context. It will be noticed that I have not mentioned specific languages, such as English, Cantonese, or Chinese in this example. Surely, it will be argued, the import and linguistic significance of the situation cannot be analyzed unless these play a major role? How else can the success of the enterprise be judged? Doesn't the mention of subject matter and examinations imply the functioning presence of one or more systems of communication? The answer to this question is most emphatically, no, it does not. In the first place, under the myth of the three-dimensional sign, the meaning is inherent in the context and the experience of the participants. The context involves the entirety of the
30
DANIEL R. DAVIS
university situation, that is, the course, other courses, set texts, and supplementary texts in the library and bookstore (at the very least). The lecturer is paid; the students are examined and rewarded with a degree. The past experience of the participants includes presence at public gatherings (such as Cantonese opera) and years of schooling, within which may be subsumed the development of understanding and its relation to linguistic behaviour which both lecturer and student are culturally conditioned to term 'English'. Language attitudes and language variation are part of this conditioning, which pertains directly to the experience of each individual. Following this line of reasoning, the notion of languages should be situated under the macrosocial scale. It may impinge on the integrational task, but it does not play a necessary part in the formulation of goals and the adaptation of experience of meet these goals. Should the location of languages under the macrosocial scale be taken to indicate that they are to be seen as norms or sets of norms? No. In the first place, they are not necessary to account for either form (which varies, to an astounding degree in this case) or meaning (which is contextbound). Second, they do not play a necessary or inherent part in carrying out the integrational task. Third, in the sense in which they embody social attitudes or targets, languages are not a system of norms of language, but rather, a collection of norms about language. This is the importance of Harris's statement that, for the purposes of integrational linguistics, languages do not exist (Harris, 1990, pp. 45, 49). That is to say, what existence they have may best be seen as a metalinguistic tradition which requires a political and cultural explanation, and which may be brought into play in a particular communicational context, but which is not inherent to communication (see Taylor, 1990). There is another possibility to be dealt with. One might argue that languages belong on the integrational scale, in that they are individual systematisations of the experience of repeating the same signs in similar contexts (Love, 1990b). The first objection to this line of argument is that, if the systematisations are truly individual, then they do not explain how communication (between individuals) is achieved. That is, they cannot shed any more light on meaning than has already been formulated in the foregoing discussion. Second, and more importantly, the ability to recognise repetitions as repetitions cannot be distinguished from the metalinguistic training achieved in the course of socialisation and education. If this is the case, this ability can again be seen as being of cultural rather than linguistic significance. Finally, and like the argument about norms, the chief virtue of this argument is that it allows a linguist to adopt the integrationalist mantle without sacrificing an object of study neatly tied in with the metalinguistic tradition. In short, it has the self-damning characteristic of institutional and occupational convenience, bought at the cost of distraction from the potential object of study, the three-dimensional sign.
REFERENCES HAEGEMAN, L. 1991 Introduction to Government and Binding Theory. Basil Blackwell, Oxford. HARRIS, R. 1980 The Language Makers. Cornell University Press, Ithasca, NY. HARRIS, R. 1981 The Language Myth. Duckworth, London. HARRIS, R. 1984 The Semiology of Textualization. Language Sciences 6, 271-86. Reprinted in Love, N. (Ed) 1990a The Foundations of Linguistic Theory: Selected Writings of Roy Harris, pp. 210-226. Routledge, London and New York. HARRIS, R. 1990 On Redefining Linguistics. In Davis H. G. and Taylor T. J. (Eds), Redefining Linguistics, pp. 18-52. Routledge, London.
THE THREE-DIMENSIONAL SIGN
31
HUTTON, C. M. 1990 Abstraction and Instance: The Type-Token Relation in Linguistic Theory. Pergamon, Oxford. LOVE, N. (Ed) 1990a The Foundations of la'nguistic Theory: Selected Writings of Roy Harris. Routledge, London. LOVE, N. 1990b The Locus of Languages in a Redefined Linguistics. In Davis H. G. and Taylor T. J. (Eds),
Redefining Linguistics, pp. 53-117. Routledge, London. SAUSSURE, F. 1983 Course in General Linguistics. Bally C. and Sechehaye A. (Eds), Harris R. (Trans). Duckworth, London. TAYLOR, T. J. 1990 Normativity and Linguistic Form. In Davis H. G. and Taylor T. J. (Eds) Redefining Linguistics, pp. 118-148. Routledge, London and New York. TAYLOR, T. J. 1992 Mutual Misunderstanding: Scepticism and the Theorizing of Language and Interpretation. Duke University Press, Durham, NC.
Pergamon 0388-0001(95)00024-0
THE THREE-DIMENSIONAL SIGN DANIEL R. DAVIS This paper discusses the implications of the three-dimensional sign proposed by Harris (1990), for general linguistic theory and the philosophy of language. The principal characteristics of the three-dimensional sign (contextuality, cotemporality, communicationalrelevance, and experiential grounding) are set against those of the two-dimensional sign (arbitrariness and linearity). The study of history is suggested as a model for the identification and study of relevant experience. Finally, the position or locus of languages with respect to communicationand the three-dimensional sign must necessarily be that of a second-order, metalinguistic cultural construct. One of the most striking and perplexing notions which Harris deploys in his work is that of the three-dimensional sign: ' . . . the sign is not given in advance of the communication situation but is itself constituted in the context of that situation by virtue of the integrational role it fulfils,' (Harris, 1990, p. 45), or, put another way, 'what constitutes a sign is not given independently of the situation in which it occurs or of its material manifestation in that situation.' (Harris, 1984; Love, 1990a, p. 225). The integrational linguistics which Harris proposes departs from orthodox linguistics in that it does not limit the sign to the two dimensions of form and meaning. The two-dimensional sign has its expression most clearly in Saussure's Cours de linguistique g~n~rale: ' A linguistic sign is not a link between a thing and a name, but between a concept and a sound pattern.' (Saussure, 1983, p. 98); 'So we can envisage the linguistic phenomenon in its entirety--the language, that it--as a series of adjoining subdivisions simultaneously imprinted on both on the plane of vague, amorphous thought (A), and on the equally featureless plane of sound (B).' (Saussure, 1983, pp. 155-156). That is, the two dimensions of this sign are meaning and sound patterning (one might use the word form for this, although it would seem to apply to both segmentation and patterning of meaning and the segmentation and patterning of sound). Although it is perhaps most prominently expressed by Saussure, this notion can be traced throughout the history of twentieth century linguistics. Even a comparatively recent textbook on government and binding speaks of phonetic form and semantic representations which, though related to certain syntactic levels of representation, are nonetheless distinct from these (Haegeman, 1991, pp. 444-445). The two-dimensional sign, as formulated by Saussure, is first, arbitrary and second, linear. These two characteristics in effect remove the sign from communicational context and make the notion of a language system possible. Arbitrariness between sound pattern and meaning or concept opens the possibility and creates the necessity that values are set (and signs are constituted) by their relations one to another, that is, within the context of the system, instead
Correspondence relating to this paper should be addressed to Dr Daniel Davis, Department of English, University of Hong Kong, Pokfulan Road, Hong Kong. 23
24
DANIEL R. DAVIS
of within the context of the communicational event. Linearity makes possible sequential or syntagmatic relationships between signs, without locating those signs precisely in time (which would imply a context). These syntagmatic relations are again, essential in both the definition of the signs and the establishment of the language system. Harris's work situates this modern linguistic tradition within the intellectual and cultural traditions of Western Europe. Essentially, the two-dimensional sign is a way of seeing language which derives from the textual practices and technologies developed in Europe from the ancient period onward. Arbitrariness follows from a contractualist approach to language such as that of the classical grammarian; what is important is not the relation between words and their referents, but that words are used correctly, according to rules. From this traditional position to the Saussurean position is a short hop, if the rules in question are seen as relationships constituting signs, rather than as prescriptive admonitions (Harris, 1980, pp. 108-110). Furthermore, the model for language-internal definition (where the meaning of a word is expressed in terms of other words of the same language) is the monolingual dictionary (Harris, 1980, pp. 133, 139). Linearity, as the basis for a successive relationship between signs which is not inherently temporal, is most conclusively exemplified by the written and especially printed text. The significance of this point is that arbitrariness, linearity, and the twodimensional sign do not have the status of 'facts about human language', but rather, are to be seen as culturally-conditioned ways of viewing human language behaviour. The inability of orthodox linguistics to come to terms with its own historical heritage has, according to Harris, resulted in a gridlock. Orthodox linguistics (and for that matter, philosophy) is unable to progress precisely because it is unable to identify genuine issues of language inquiry, as opposed to rather artificial tasks deriving from assumptions taken on faith. The problem with linguistics is first, the way in which metalinguistic terminology drawn from the Western tradition has been removed from its original communicational context and taken as identifying inherent facts of language, and second, the kind of doublethink which is required when this terminology is applied to language behaviour in order to forge linguistic data. Anyone who has undertaken primary linguistic research and language description is aware of this kind of abstracting and regularizing process. The data so created constitute a distraction from linguistic behaviour, that is, from the practices which create and give meaning to signs. The three-dimensional sign arises within this discourse. The way out of the gridlock is a reassessment of the sign in linguistics, semiotics, and philosophy. A two-dimensional sign must be replaced by a three-dimensional sign as a conceptual basis for these studies, no matter how difficult this may be (given our cultural and educational pre-disposition toward the former). One could say that the three-dimensional sign is an 'alternative' to the two-dimensional sign, but this does not recognize the mythic status of the notion of language within which the twodimensional sign is embedded (Harris, 1990, p. 52). One could say that the recognition of the language myth as such, and the attempt to found an approach to language which gets round this, requires the formulation of a competing myth. And, in so far as it is an 'alternative' to the two-dimensional sign, the three-dimensional sign is this sort of competing myth. What would this three-dimensional sign be? At its most simple, the three dimensions of the sign are the three dimensions of space, that is, height, breadth, and depth. The sign always has a location; it always has a context. This does not mean (pace orthodox theory and sociolinguistics both) that the two-dimensional sign is at any given time realized or used within a three-dimensional context; it means that symbolic behaviour is just as much a part of the context as any other behaviour, and that individuals treat it as such. It is not a question of adding
THE THREE-DIMENSIONAL SIGN
25
a spatial dimension to the two dimensions of form and meaning, since this would not differ in any principled fashion from the way in which the context of the two-dimensional sign is dealt with in mainstream present-day linguistics, especially sociolinguistics. If one says that the three dimensions of the sign are those of space, then it follows that one no longer can refer to form and meaning, but rather, to behaviour and context. Behaviour (signifying behaviour, or maybe, the sign) exists in a three-dimensional context. Putting it this way should make it clear that one cannot speak of the decontextualised meaning of a threedimensional sign in the way that one does with a two-dimensional sign. The meaning resides in the three-dimensional context. If meaning cannot be decontextualised, then one can see that it is not possible to assess the arbitrariness of the sign, as this will depend entirely on the behaviour and the context. That is to say, whether or not there is a necessary relationship between signifying behaviour and how it is interpreted will depend on the context. This also has implications for linearity. In the first place, linearity is not necessary for establishing the meaning of the three-dimensional sign in the same way that it is for the meaning of the two-dimensional sign. The location of meaning in context means that it is not necessary that it be constituted by relations with other signs, and therefore it is not necessary to posit linearity as the basis for syntagmatic relations. Second, by situating the sign within the context of space rather than the context of the system, the three-dimensional sign is subject to time and is contextualised by succession in time. The term Harris has used for this is co-temporality. Language behaviour occurs in the same context and time as other forms of behaviour, and participating individuals integrate and interpret both forms of behaviour in the same way, without any necessary distinction between them (Harris, 1981, p. 155). The point here is that individuals are engaged in the process of making sense of a particular context, within that context. Anything within that context could potentially be of relevance to the process of making sense. This includes what is happening, what has just happened, and what has happened in the past within the experience of the individual. The individual need make no distinction between linguistic and non-linguistic behaviour in his or her interpretation; but the individual must continually impose or assume a temporal assessment or sequencing of now, just now, and then in order to come up with and develop an interpretation. Co-temporality and linearity share the condition of sequencing, but linearity divorces this from experiential time and situates it within the abstract language system. That is, linearity pertains only to linguistic behaviour, and particularly to syntagmatic aspects of that behaviour. Co-temporality requires no such distinction, and does not limit the sequencing act to the sentence, but rather argues that temporal sequence is equally important and similarly based in the processes of assigning relevance, interpreting, or making sense of behavioural interaction in a given context. A possible line of objection to this notion of co-temporality might be developed on cultural, rather than linguistic grounds. This would be to say that notions of time are culturally contingent, and theretbre, co-temporality would not necessarily be part of every culture's interpretative capability. However, to offer this objection would be to misunderstand the nature of co-temporality. The claim is not that every culture must have a particular notion of time in order for communication to be possible, but rather that sequencing of actions is an essential part of an individual's interpretation of and interaction with his or her environment. The acquisition of this sequencing ability is essential to any human's survival beyond infancy, since it is involved in vital and basic aspects of behaviour such as food collection and preparation,
26
DANIEL R. DAVIS
movement, concealment, shelter, and social interaction in addition to language behaviour. Conceptions of time, be they cultural or individual, are also based in some way on this sequencing ability, though, as with these other activities, they may vary from culture to culture, or from individual to individual. One might well add that this sequencing is not restricted to humans, but can be seen to be held in common with other forms of animal life. Picking fruit, killing a squirrel, or catching a flea would not be possible without it. Just as the location of the sign in three dimensions implies its co-temporal character, so does this in its turn point to the importance of experience. The individual engaged in the interpretative act relies on context, but also on immediate, recent, and past experience. 'An integrational linguistics would be concerned with the analysis of this [communicational] improvisation as a function, simultaneously, of relevant past experience and a current communication situation.' (Harris, 1981, p. 186). Harris makes the case that the study of the communicational context must predominate, in the first place because past experience is irrecoverable, and in the second place, because it is its deployment in the communicational context which makes a particular aspect of past experience relevant (Harris, 1981, pp. 186-187). However, it should be pointed out that experience is essential to the linguistics of the three-dimensional sign, since it is this which separates it from a kind of sociolinguistics with a video camera. That is, signifying behaviour is observed in some detail within context, but the experiential basis of that context is assumed or supplied by the observer. Whether assumed or supplied, the issue of relevance is bypassed or fudged. Without reference to cotemporality and to experience, the communicational context is incomplete. Sociolinguistics and ethnomethodology make up for this shortcoming by reference to norms or to cultural practices, which take the place of individual experience in formulating the means of interpretative behaviour. 'Norms' or 'cultural practices' are an abstraction to almost the same degree as 'a language system' (see Hutton, 1990). The problem for integrational linguistics, and for the re-evaluation of the sign in three dimensions, is that 'experience' is notoriously difficult to pin down in any principled way, and 'individual experience' is most often held to be subjective by virtue of its individual character." There is, however, at least one model for integrational linguistics in its attempt to elucidate function of experience in the three-dimensional sign. This is the study of history. One could say that the study of history is an attempt to record and evaluate the experience of individuals and social groupings. It is essentially concerned with values, much like linguistics, anthropology, economics, and other social sciences, and it frequently relies on the methodologies of these areas of study. Unlike these other fields, history does not define in advance the locus of the values it is concerned with. The 'value' it is engaged in studying is not to be found a priori in, for example, a linguistic system, or a culture, or an economy, though these may be seen as relevant to an attempt to reconstruct or represent the values which explain behaviour in any relevant situation. This corresponds closely to the issues involved in the three-dimensional sign, that it is the communicational context which determines which aspects of behaviour are communicationally relevant. Second, history relies on narrative, both as a source for and medium of its study. Although the problems with the study of narrative are immense and not to be underestimated, it is nevertheless the case that narrative, in contrast to experience, appears in a form much more accessible to study, and is much more clearly defined within the academy as a subject of discourse within various fields of study, these being (at the very least) in addition to history itself, the fields of literature, folklore, rhetoric, and critical theory (see Taylor, 1992). The acts
THE THREE-DIMENSIONAL SIGN
27
of selection and construction relate narrative to experience, in the sense that the selection process can be seen as an assignment of value. This works as an indicator of what is or may be important in experience, but it also, through the purpose of the narrative, establishes what is relevant to the communicational context of the narrative. Thus narrative can be said to be the kind of bridge between the importance of experience, and the relevance to communicational context, which is required in the foundation of the three-dimensional sign. Third, history can be said to be concerned with politics in its most general sense, that is, the relationships between human beings at almost any level of social interaction and organisation, from the individual to the international. A history is a political claim; it is subject to political interpretation, evaluation, and contradiction; it is set within a political context. On the one hand, this acts as a check on the validity of the historical interpretation; on the other, it liberates the historical interpretation from almost any form of determinism, be it social, cultural, economic, or linguistic. That is, history makes claims about the nature of experience and values vis-~t-vis an individual or group, but these claims are limited to a particular context. Furthermore, both claims and contexts are subject to debate. This is precisely comparable to the contingent melding of context and experience brought about by the three-dimensional sign. Finally, history is contingent not only on the contextualisation of the subject matter, but is also contingent on the political position of the historian. The first act of a writer or reader of history is to assess this position, as it is crucial to determining the rhetorical purpose of the interpretative act. It is the same with the integrational linguist. Translating this into terms relevant to the three-dimensional sign, one might say that not only are the context of the sign and the experience of the participants important, but so too is the position of the linguist. The first communicative act which the integrational linguist undertakes to analyze is that in which he or she is engaged in, whether or not this is the same act which is the object of study. The integrational linguist is involved in a discourse with academic and political significance; he is co-temporal with this discourse; he brings his experience to it. Ultimately the reality of his description, analysis, or discussion is grounded in this interpretative and communicative act. Without an awareness of this, that is, that the object three-dimensional sign is brought into the discourse by means of a subject three-dimensional sign, there is always the danger that the object sign will be read or interpreted as a two-dimensional sign. Why? Because if the subject sign is assumed to be a two-dimensional representation, then the important qualities of the object sign will be taken to be reflected in these two-dimensions, and so its three-dimensional character will appear to be an optional extra, just another instantiation of the two-dimensional sign in another context. As was mentioned above, this is the position taken by orthodox linguistic theory and sociolinguistics. One might illustrate this by a comparison with film. There are three positions. The naive position is that the train represented on the film is real and in three dimensions; one can watch it comfortably from the side, but if it turns toward the audience it is dangerous. The orthodox position is that the film represents a reality which is not present, but which it accurately reflects; one enjoys the sensation of watching the train, one observes its essential character captured on film and is informed by this, but there is no danger. The integrational position is that one is engaged in a cultural practice, sitting in a darkened room with shadows cast on the wail; this is made possible by another cultural practice involving a camera, a kind of transfer from one context to another through two dimensions; there is danger to the subject, the means, and the object. Danger to the linguist/viewer in that he or she has the political and cultural responsibility for the interpretation which accompanies the viewing; danger to the means/camera in that it forms part of both contexts and so shares the
28
DANIEL R. DAVIS
responsibility for the screening and for the filming (financial loss at the box office and both physical harm and the effects of wielding power at the filming site); danger to the object in that it is open to re-interpretation and mis-interpretation through two dimensions, but also in that its existence is called into question by this translation. In this last scenario, one would seem to learn only about the linguist and his or her means. What is the point of integrational linguistics if the three-dimensional sign is always distanced from the linguist by another three-dimensional sign, with all the baggage it entails? There are sensible points which can be brought to bear on answering this question. First, it requires that the linguist understand his or her own position. Self-understanding (in different manifestations) is perhaps the ultimate goal of academic discourse. Second, the political and interpretative acts of the linguist can go a long way to bring together the subject and object contexts and experiences, since the linguist is not only observer but participant, acting linguistically and politically with responsibility. Third, calling into question the existence of the object sign re-affirms its contingent character and ultimately brings it into better focus; if there is anything further to be observed in connection with the object sign, it cannot be observed unless and until the observer's position and means and line of observation are taken into account. Harris has maintained that there is something to be observed of language behaviour. This can be treated in what he terms three 'scales' (Harris, 1984; Love, 1990a, p. 219) or 'levels of relevance' (Harris, 1990, p. 50), these being the biomechanical (the neural and physiological factors which determine the parameters of communication in a context), the macrosocial (the phenomena of mass behaviour such as historical and cultural factors), and the integrational (factors concerned with communication as a function of an individual's experience within a particular context). Harris argues that these pertain to all human behaviour (not merely communicational behaviour), and can be summarised as, 'what the human being is physiologically equipped to do, what the human being is collectively conditioned to do, and what the human being is individually aiming to do in given circumstances' (Harris, 1984; Love, 1990a, p. 220). Consider how the above discussion of the three-dimensional sign can be mapped against these scales. Those aspects of the signifying behaviour which are both physical and communicationally relevant, including participants, physical environment, and medium, can be considered on the biomechanical scale. Those aspects of the behaviour which are cultural and/or historical, and relevant, including social aspects of context, participants and their experience, and the medium, can be considered on the macrosocial scale. Those aspects of the behaviour which are to do with the individual participants goals, intentions, and adaptations to meet these, including anything recognised as relevant, can be considered on the integrational scale. Notice that the use of the term historical under macrosocial has to do with the past which is not entirely available to participants, whereas in the above discussion 'history' has more to do with a method for establishing or approximating participants' relevant experience in a given context. The purpose of this comparison is to show that the three scales embody the points made in the foregoing discussion of the three-dimensional sign, that is, concerning the physical and sociocultural context of the sign, its co-temporality, and the relevant experience of the participants (as approachable by historical method). An example would perhaps make this clearer. I have direct and frequent experience of the linguistic behaviour of giving large lectures at the University of Hong Kong. The following characteristics (while not constituting a detailed analysis) illustrate certain important points regarding the language behaviour which occurs in this context. First, it is not possible to give a lecture to 350 students without taking into account the size of the lecture hall and the ability
THE THREE-DIMENSIONAL SIGN
29
of the students to hear. This is on the biomechanical scale. Natural projection or artificial amplification must be used to ensure that all of the students who wish to listen may hear. This may seem so obvious as to be unworthy of mention, but it is remarkable how many lecturers are clearly unsuccessful (based on student behaviour and comments, as well as examination results) by virtue of the fact that they are not heard. There is something quite hilarious (and tellingly ironic) in a lecture given by a linguist who mumbles. Second, the lecturers and students have expectations of lectures and public gatherings, based on their (different) cultural backgrounds. The lecturer often expects to be the only one speaking. The students at the University of Hong Kong do not share this assumption, and quite often speak at full voice, not in a whisper, and not restricted to back rows. Although this could possibly be related to the integrational scale (having to do with their educational and political intentions) it is often quite clear (from the character of the students involved) that these contrasting assumptions belong on the macrosocial scale. Without extensive action taken on the lecturer's part, the students are not aware of the convention that only the lecturer should speak in a full voice. This observation is not individual and can be confirmed by other lecturers in the Faculty of Arts at the University of Hong Kong. Notice that in this case the biomechanical factor and macrosocial factors are at communicative odds. If the talking increases, less students are likely to be able to hear, in which case they will be free to participate in talking. Ultimately, the ability of the lecturer to lecture will be impaired by the level of background noise. This point belongs on the biomechanical scale. However, it is also true that the lecturer can use the level of noise as an indication of either student interest level or student reaction to a particular point made (the distinction between the two based on experiential and co-temporal factors). This belongs on the integrational scale. As a lecturer, I have the intention and goal of first, getting the student to listen, and second, inspiring them to take an interest in the subject such that it will contribute demonstrably (in examinations) to their education. Most lecturers in this context, if they have any conscious educational intentions at all, would agree, although this is a politically loaded and contentious point. However, there are a number of strategies by which lecturers attempt to integrate their experience with these aims under these conditions. One strategy is to leave the room, although this hardly achieves the goal in the first instance. Another is to order or beg the students to listen. This has dangerous authoritarian and (paradoxically) ineffective connotations, which in the political context of Hong Kong appear imperialist or colonialist and risk politicising the student body against the lecturer. A third is to entice the students with humour or mild threats. In my experience the third is the most successful, especially if the jokes are simple, accompanied by clear gesture, and related to the subject matter of the lecture. The same is true of mild threats, such as directing the discussion to an individual who is talking and not listening. The overall importance of this example is perhaps only a pedagogical footnote; however, it does serve to illustrate the character and interaction of Harris's scales in a specific communicational context. It will be noticed that I have not mentioned specific languages, such as English, Cantonese, or Chinese in this example. Surely, it will be argued, the import and linguistic significance of the situation cannot be analyzed unless these play a major role? How else can the success of the enterprise be judged? Doesn't the mention of subject matter and examinations imply the functioning presence of one or more systems of communication? The answer to this question is most emphatically, no, it does not. In the first place, under the myth of the three-dimensional sign, the meaning is inherent in the context and the experience of the participants. The context involves the entirety of the
30
DANIEL R. DAVIS
university situation, that is, the course, other courses, set texts, and supplementary texts in the library and bookstore (at the very least). The lecturer is paid; the students are examined and rewarded with a degree. The past experience of the participants includes presence at public gatherings (such as Cantonese opera) and years of schooling, within which may be subsumed the development of understanding and its relation to linguistic behaviour which both lecturer and student are culturally conditioned to term 'English'. Language attitudes and language variation are part of this conditioning, which pertains directly to the experience of each individual. Following this line of reasoning, the notion of languages should be situated under the macrosocial scale. It may impinge on the integrational task, but it does not play a necessary part in the formulation of goals and the adaptation of experience of meet these goals. Should the location of languages under the macrosocial scale be taken to indicate that they are to be seen as norms or sets of norms? No. In the first place, they are not necessary to account for either form (which varies, to an astounding degree in this case) or meaning (which is contextbound). Second, they do not play a necessary or inherent part in carrying out the integrational task. Third, in the sense in which they embody social attitudes or targets, languages are not a system of norms of language, but rather, a collection of norms about language. This is the importance of Harris's statement that, for the purposes of integrational linguistics, languages do not exist (Harris, 1990, pp. 45, 49). That is to say, what existence they have may best be seen as a metalinguistic tradition which requires a political and cultural explanation, and which may be brought into play in a particular communicational context, but which is not inherent to communication (see Taylor, 1990). There is another possibility to be dealt with. One might argue that languages belong on the integrational scale, in that they are individual systematisations of the experience of repeating the same signs in similar contexts (Love, 1990b). The first objection to this line of argument is that, if the systematisations are truly individual, then they do not explain how communication (between individuals) is achieved. That is, they cannot shed any more light on meaning than has already been formulated in the foregoing discussion. Second, and more importantly, the ability to recognise repetitions as repetitions cannot be distinguished from the metalinguistic training achieved in the course of socialisation and education. If this is the case, this ability can again be seen as being of cultural rather than linguistic significance. Finally, and like the argument about norms, the chief virtue of this argument is that it allows a linguist to adopt the integrationalist mantle without sacrificing an object of study neatly tied in with the metalinguistic tradition. In short, it has the self-damning characteristic of institutional and occupational convenience, bought at the cost of distraction from the potential object of study, the three-dimensional sign.
REFERENCES HAEGEMAN, L. 1991 Introduction to Government and Binding Theory. Basil Blackwell, Oxford. HARRIS, R. 1980 The Language Makers. Cornell University Press, Ithasca, NY. HARRIS, R. 1981 The Language Myth. Duckworth, London. HARRIS, R. 1984 The Semiology of Textualization. Language Sciences 6, 271-86. Reprinted in Love, N. (Ed) 1990a The Foundations of Linguistic Theory: Selected Writings of Roy Harris, pp. 210-226. Routledge, London and New York. HARRIS, R. 1990 On Redefining Linguistics. In Davis H. G. and Taylor T. J. (Eds), Redefining Linguistics, pp. 18-52. Routledge, London.
THE THREE-DIMENSIONAL SIGN
31
HUTTON, C. M. 1990 Abstraction and Instance: The Type-Token Relation in Linguistic Theory. Pergamon, Oxford. LOVE, N. (Ed) 1990a The Foundations of la'nguistic Theory: Selected Writings of Roy Harris. Routledge, London. LOVE, N. 1990b The Locus of Languages in a Redefined Linguistics. In Davis H. G. and Taylor T. J. (Eds),
Redefining Linguistics, pp. 53-117. Routledge, London. SAUSSURE, F. 1983 Course in General Linguistics. Bally C. and Sechehaye A. (Eds), Harris R. (Trans). Duckworth, London. TAYLOR, T. J. 1990 Normativity and Linguistic Form. In Davis H. G. and Taylor T. J. (Eds) Redefining Linguistics, pp. 118-148. Routledge, London and New York. TAYLOR, T. J. 1992 Mutual Misunderstanding: Scepticism and the Theorizing of Language and Interpretation. Duke University Press, Durham, NC.