Theos-Talk Archives (March 1995 Message tl00251)

When I joined theos-l late in 1993, my expectations were that I
would be joining a community of theosophists from many
backgrounds united in the quest for new discoveries and
perspectives.  But from the beginning, I discovered that my own
expectations for theos-l were often very much at odds with the
reality of the beast.  I quickly discovered that many
contributors feel that "theosophical history" should not be
discussed here, while others wished to censor anything "critical"
that might be said about a favored theosophical personality or
subject that is at odds with their own views.  I recall other
objecting to the discussion of "Blavatsky Theosophy" because,
they said, it was "out of date" and "irrelevant to the 20th
century." Others countered that "neo-Theosophy" is useless.  Some
were true to this or that set of teachings, others made up their
own.  Others insisted that their are no "teachings." It became
obvious to me that theos-l is not the utopian level playing field
were any subject raised will evoke enthusiastic responses and
opportunities, leading to a stimulating exchange of ideas opening
new and ever widening vistas of inquiry.  Instead, it appeared to
be more of an arena were the contenders competed to get
recognition for their own point of view.  It seems to go back to
what we all sooner or later learn from human experience--that
most people are completely open to creative and critical
discussions on any subject just as long as they don't have a
vested opinion about it.  So a problem with having free and open
discussions on theos-l about theosophy is that most of the
responders already have vested opinions on the subject, and those
vested opinions are often quite at odds with each other.  Well,
of course the above dynamics might be present in any
heterogeneous group, but in cyberspace it takes some weird
twists, and I think the problem is related to the nature of the
(mis)communication itself.

I've observed that in cyberspace, there is only text.  Unlike the
telephone, there are no voice inflections--no tones expressing
emotions.  Unlike even in letter writing, there are no "Dearest
John" openings, or "with all my love" closings.  There is no
distinctive handwriting--or even the often creative formatting of
a familiar typescript.  There is no characteristic stationary
with flowers or butterflies--no perfume.  Cyberspace filters out
all of these subtle messages leaving only a standard text--single
spaced, 80 lines across on a monitor or in the default text of
your software and printer.  Further, there is no audience in the
traditional sense.  Even when one writes a book or an article, it
is slanted toward a particular audience.  On cyberspace, with 100
subscribers, most of whom never communicate, the audience is
really an unknown.  In short--cyberspace is public and
impersonal.  A statement intended to be a joke can appear to be
an insult.  A friendly criticism can come across as an attack.
We have not evolved many techniques as yet to clarify which is
which.  Some symbols have come into use.  For instance, an
indication that the writer is making a statement with a friendly
smile may end with :-).  But what is the symbol for a sarcastic
smile? Or a "I really mean it" statement? Or a "I'm really trying
to understand you" statement? We need to develop a cyber-rhetoric
before this form of communication can see its potential.  I've
noted three extensive attempts (as I perceive them to be) at a
cyber-rhetoric: John Mead, through extreme self censorship as a
function of his position; Art Patterson, whose approach, I would
describe as...? (I don't have a word for it yet); and Nancy
Coker, who has made some very important formatting and approach
suggestions.  Like some of us on this net, I'm watching each of
your rhetorics in order to discover effective techniques that may
work for me and for who I (think I) am.  Thank you for the many
great ideas so far.

Because cyberspace is so impersonal, I feel it becomes very easy
to forget that those on the other side of the monitor are also
people with feelings.  It is very easy to make cyber- discourse a
macho game or a place to vent feelings--whether they be hostile,
hurt or joyous.  We can play games or we can communicate.  Sadly,
however, being human, sometimes our needs and our feelings have
more to say about the choice we make than does our will.
Therefore I offer a new term for the dynamics that I
perceive--cyberpathology.

In light of all of the above, the latest episode concerning
Paul's book, has left me reluctant to contribute much at all over
the past month or so.  Yes, a big part of the reason has been
because I have been very busy, but part of the reason is also
because I really don't want to be a part of what I perceive is
going on.  Two items bother me:

First, as Paul has pointed out, his "martyr act" made him a
"target for further hostility." So it seems, but I might add that
I noticed that it also invoked a greater number of responses from
people standing up for him.  So there is a sacrifice and a payoff
here--it works both ways.  The point I'm trying to make is, once
we get to the bottom line of this discourse, it doesn't seem to
have much to do with the merits of Paul's book anymore.  Does it?
I'm not criticizing individuals here, I'm just trying to point
out what I see to be a dynamic that does not further the proposed
discussion that we are supposed to be having.

The second thing that bothers me is the nature of the criticism,
or what Art Patterson (In what I perceive as an attempt to put
the discussion in a more positive direction) suggests we call
"enhancement" or "furtherance." I feel that Art's contribution is
very "right on" here.  Criticism correctly done is indeed
"enhancement" and "furtherance." But the critic needs first to
recognize his or her motives for the criticism, and to understand
what criticism is supposed to do.  But I think there might be too
much confusion at the moment about what criticism really is, so
let me take a step back....

First of all, constructive (academic) criticism applies to the
process not to the product.  In other words, for the purposes of
constructive criticism, Paul's conclusions concerning the Masters
are in themselves really irrelevant.  What is important is how he
came to those conclusions.  Did he make a thorough search of the
evidence? Did he treat the evidence fairly? Does the evidence
support the conclusions? This last question is very different
from whether or not his conclusions are "correct," which may be
an unanswerable question anyway.

Lastly, I have begun reading Paul's book, and as he correctly
predicted, I have found "much to praise and much to condemn." But
sadly, with the above dynamics going on, I feel very reluctant to
post my criticisms i.e.  "enhancement and furtherance" on the
subject, because of the risk of it becoming further fuel for
"cyberpathology."

I look forward to reading any comments on this post.  No flames
please.

Peace
Jerry Hejka-Ekins
JHE@KOKO.CSUSTAN.EDU