This and That

The words dog and cat stand for something that have clear physical representations. The words this and that don’t have any inherent meaning. Despite this they are some of the most useful words we employ. 

This and that are like little mental arrows that point to things around us. What’s referenced can be obvious, such as this cat, or abstract, such as that idea about how all dogs go to heaven. In each case our mind tries to extend past itself to touch something and make it clearer. This and that function like little laser beams that shoot from our psyches to help others grasp what we’re alluding to. It helps make what’s in our minds knowable.

In other posts (like this one) I’ve mentioned salience and how we are always tasked with separating the signal from the noise to find meaning. This and that become useful tools in these endeavors, because they can call attention to possible discoveries. And since most discoveries will be counterintuitive (as I mentioned here), this and that are critical to begin to flesh out and, eventually, test a theory. Because of these arrangements, art leverages the head nods like this and that extensively.

When we make art, and if we take it seriously, we are calling on others to verify something we think we are seeing. A call to notice this and detect that. To recognize what we’re trying to exhume from the murkiness of the infinite sea of data. Maybe we’re identifying a real pattern, or maybe that face in the clouds is just the illusion of a mental projection.

Humanity will inevitably help determine if the this and that’s are noteworthy. It’s why art is, by definition, made to be public in some way. Others offer the necessary criticism that sheds light on our conjectures. The specters of a deeper reality are calling for an explanation. Art is part of the process of discovering what they actually are.