Then I have no use for it anymore.
I only want one thing:
Everything [...]" - Sengoku Nadeko on love
Apparently, the word "instrumentalism" can be used to represent a whole school of thought in the philosophy of science, where science is treated as a means rather than an end to our understanding of reality. Theories are weighed more on their usefulness as tools that relate the cause and effects we observe in the physical world, but not necessarily their illumination on realities that are inaccessible to us. However, I am no profound philosopher, and will therefore simply muse on the attitude of being instrumentalist in learning, and as a general world view in this post.
"Instrumentalist" is one of the words I heard very often from my English/Theory of Knowledge teacher back in secondary school. As I entered the IB, and also simultaneously when I dabbled in the field of Olympiad physics, my view on education and seeking of knowledge changed quite radically. Simply put, I had no idea what the true purpose of learning was until then. Well, that is not entirely true, since the purpose of learning for me is to do well in exams so I could be spared of my guilt. So that is, I suppose, a purpose.
However, that is definitely a purpose that would be considered "instrumentalist" by my English teacher. On the surface, having an instrumentalist point of view, especially on the task of learning, is less, shall I say, "correct" and "noble" than the other side of the coin: To learn for the sake of curiosity, and for the betterment of one's understanding of the world. Yet, as we, as students, progress through the standard journey of schooling, exams become actually more and more important, and having an instrumentalist goal would seem even more justified than ever. Perhaps the obvious answer to the conflict between these views would be a balance between both, and that is what I strive to be nowadays that I have seen the genuinely attractive side of learning. Then, the problem may be to find where the balance point is, or rather, true to the spirit of this blog, whether it is fundamentally a valid approach to learning.
The disadvantages of the instrumentalist view, of course, is the usual: Forgetting almost everything after a major test, only limiting oneself to the knowledge mandated by a syllabus that is more designed to administer tests easily than to truly impart meaningful knowledge at times. The motivation to learn thus is entirely driven by competition, or ego, to prove that one is worthy. This is probably more than common in the case of Chinese education before the fall of Qing in the 20th century. Bar a select few, most study to do well in the exam in order to gain a good position in the government (學而優則仕).
To defend this attitude might be a more subtle case to consider. Is there anything fundamentally wrong with motivating learning with ego? Whether one desires to be the case or not, ego comprises a large part of our mind. Without a sense of self-worth one would be on the brink of absurdity. Moreover, how one absorbs knowledge, at the end, is entirely up to his/her own volition. No one can force someone to adopt a certain mode of learning effectually. Thus, while there may be difference in competence between people with different end goals in learning, there should be no judgment on who is right (as with most issues discussed in this blog).
Then comes the problem of examinations. To do well in an examination is the holy grail of instrumentalism as applied to education. There is something so enchanting about numerical indications of one's ability to do well in an exam, in a particular time and in a particular setting, in a particular condition and a particular state of mind, that it is enough to cause paranoia and even breakdown of sanity in some extreme cases. Yet, the concept of examinations is so ingrained in modern education that I struggle to imagine an efficient system of education where exams do not exist.
It thus seem that this discussion is leading to the general attitude of instrumentalism in life. To remove instrumentalism is to remove purpose, effectively, since the search of purpose is difficult, and instrumentalism offers an easy way out to keep one driven. To put more concretely, the decisions one make in life mostly only impacts one's own life, and hence by simple logic, the reasoning leading to such decisions must only depend on consideration of oneself, not anyone else. Therefore, if we say that to be instrumentalist is to switch the goal of an action from one "true" and "noble" goal to another that is perhaps less so, some actions that are considered instrumentalist may not be so to the person performing such actions, since in the viewpoint of the actor, such "noble" goals may not be a purpose at all: they are not something that they desire at all. Can we then say that instrumentalism is a force of good that drives people to inadvertently perform good actions by providing to individual needs?
In a world intricately linked by cause and effect, this would seem to be very much the case. Much like a world contained in a video game, by setting correct rewards for certain actions, they are performed naturally by forces akin to those described in free market economics. Where there is a demand of "good", there is a supply of such "good" provided the "consumer" is willing and able to pay the reward. There are two problems to such a world though: One rather philosophical and lofty, and one rather concrete and immediate.
To base a world on instrumentalist and purely rational economic thought is to strip all so-called "beauty" from the world. This is true to wildly different degrees in different people, but one purpose of life for most is the seeking of truth and beauty ("Beauty is truth, and truth beauty") There would be little proponent to drive the creation of music, art, or knowledge. In the case of knowledge, examining in a more (socially) instrumentalist point of view, one might barely push forward its boundary in one's lifetime, yet the knowledge may be used future generations in a very beneficial way. There is little motivation for one to engage in research (especially with the oversaturation of academics nowadays) because of its often small material reward that may not even manifest in the short life of a human, which is why governments often have to pay some irrationally large amount of money into research and development (but even governments, made inevitably of mortal humans, face this problem). These are all things that are desired by humans, but are inevitably doomed to be undermotivated for an instrumental society.
The second reason builds on what I have said. It is exemplified by the quote I opened this post with. If one adopts a purely instrumental mindset, there is no reason one would care about this world's benefit at all if one's observable reality is so limited. To make decisions solely based on one's own selfish benefit is actually the most rational thing to do, and all other paths that might sacrifice (minor) benefits for an individual for (sometimes major) benefits of are simply irrational and basically the wrong approach according to instrumentalists. Obviously, one can argue from shallow moral theories that this is wrong, but even from a point of view above that of moral judgments, I personally would not want you to do things that harm your surroundings, because your surroundings rather inadvertently involves me. Therefore there is a strong (or even absolutely correct) justification for everyone to pursue instrumentalism, yet a strong motivation for everyone to prevent others from doing so at the same time. This may be reminiscent of the prisoner's dilemma.
At the end of the day, we need instrumentalism to motivate us to do anything really, because the human mind is very prone to being attracted by shallow and short term rewards, and this is sometimes the only thing that appear on our mind that we cannot comprehend the true reason why something is done and are fixated on the instrumentalist reason. To adopt the instrumentalist motivation in doing something may affect the eventual outcome, but at least the action that may be considered "good" is actually done. I suppose the least that we can do is to embrace this weakness of human mind and stop living on a hypocritical high ground where all actions must be noble. This is perhaps the most common form of hypocrisy used by people (instrumentally) to sell their actions as noble and lure people into believing their intentions. I have nothing against being instrumental, as long as one is upfront with it.
ED Discussion 12: The Garden of Words ED, Rain [1]
However, that is definitely a purpose that would be considered "instrumentalist" by my English teacher. On the surface, having an instrumentalist point of view, especially on the task of learning, is less, shall I say, "correct" and "noble" than the other side of the coin: To learn for the sake of curiosity, and for the betterment of one's understanding of the world. Yet, as we, as students, progress through the standard journey of schooling, exams become actually more and more important, and having an instrumentalist goal would seem even more justified than ever. Perhaps the obvious answer to the conflict between these views would be a balance between both, and that is what I strive to be nowadays that I have seen the genuinely attractive side of learning. Then, the problem may be to find where the balance point is, or rather, true to the spirit of this blog, whether it is fundamentally a valid approach to learning.
The disadvantages of the instrumentalist view, of course, is the usual: Forgetting almost everything after a major test, only limiting oneself to the knowledge mandated by a syllabus that is more designed to administer tests easily than to truly impart meaningful knowledge at times. The motivation to learn thus is entirely driven by competition, or ego, to prove that one is worthy. This is probably more than common in the case of Chinese education before the fall of Qing in the 20th century. Bar a select few, most study to do well in the exam in order to gain a good position in the government (學而優則仕).
To defend this attitude might be a more subtle case to consider. Is there anything fundamentally wrong with motivating learning with ego? Whether one desires to be the case or not, ego comprises a large part of our mind. Without a sense of self-worth one would be on the brink of absurdity. Moreover, how one absorbs knowledge, at the end, is entirely up to his/her own volition. No one can force someone to adopt a certain mode of learning effectually. Thus, while there may be difference in competence between people with different end goals in learning, there should be no judgment on who is right (as with most issues discussed in this blog).
Then comes the problem of examinations. To do well in an examination is the holy grail of instrumentalism as applied to education. There is something so enchanting about numerical indications of one's ability to do well in an exam, in a particular time and in a particular setting, in a particular condition and a particular state of mind, that it is enough to cause paranoia and even breakdown of sanity in some extreme cases. Yet, the concept of examinations is so ingrained in modern education that I struggle to imagine an efficient system of education where exams do not exist.
It thus seem that this discussion is leading to the general attitude of instrumentalism in life. To remove instrumentalism is to remove purpose, effectively, since the search of purpose is difficult, and instrumentalism offers an easy way out to keep one driven. To put more concretely, the decisions one make in life mostly only impacts one's own life, and hence by simple logic, the reasoning leading to such decisions must only depend on consideration of oneself, not anyone else. Therefore, if we say that to be instrumentalist is to switch the goal of an action from one "true" and "noble" goal to another that is perhaps less so, some actions that are considered instrumentalist may not be so to the person performing such actions, since in the viewpoint of the actor, such "noble" goals may not be a purpose at all: they are not something that they desire at all. Can we then say that instrumentalism is a force of good that drives people to inadvertently perform good actions by providing to individual needs?
In a world intricately linked by cause and effect, this would seem to be very much the case. Much like a world contained in a video game, by setting correct rewards for certain actions, they are performed naturally by forces akin to those described in free market economics. Where there is a demand of "good", there is a supply of such "good" provided the "consumer" is willing and able to pay the reward. There are two problems to such a world though: One rather philosophical and lofty, and one rather concrete and immediate.
To base a world on instrumentalist and purely rational economic thought is to strip all so-called "beauty" from the world. This is true to wildly different degrees in different people, but one purpose of life for most is the seeking of truth and beauty ("Beauty is truth, and truth beauty") There would be little proponent to drive the creation of music, art, or knowledge. In the case of knowledge, examining in a more (socially) instrumentalist point of view, one might barely push forward its boundary in one's lifetime, yet the knowledge may be used future generations in a very beneficial way. There is little motivation for one to engage in research (especially with the oversaturation of academics nowadays) because of its often small material reward that may not even manifest in the short life of a human, which is why governments often have to pay some irrationally large amount of money into research and development (but even governments, made inevitably of mortal humans, face this problem). These are all things that are desired by humans, but are inevitably doomed to be undermotivated for an instrumental society.
The second reason builds on what I have said. It is exemplified by the quote I opened this post with. If one adopts a purely instrumental mindset, there is no reason one would care about this world's benefit at all if one's observable reality is so limited. To make decisions solely based on one's own selfish benefit is actually the most rational thing to do, and all other paths that might sacrifice (minor) benefits for an individual for (sometimes major) benefits of are simply irrational and basically the wrong approach according to instrumentalists. Obviously, one can argue from shallow moral theories that this is wrong, but even from a point of view above that of moral judgments, I personally would not want you to do things that harm your surroundings, because your surroundings rather inadvertently involves me. Therefore there is a strong (or even absolutely correct) justification for everyone to pursue instrumentalism, yet a strong motivation for everyone to prevent others from doing so at the same time. This may be reminiscent of the prisoner's dilemma.
At the end of the day, we need instrumentalism to motivate us to do anything really, because the human mind is very prone to being attracted by shallow and short term rewards, and this is sometimes the only thing that appear on our mind that we cannot comprehend the true reason why something is done and are fixated on the instrumentalist reason. To adopt the instrumentalist motivation in doing something may affect the eventual outcome, but at least the action that may be considered "good" is actually done. I suppose the least that we can do is to embrace this weakness of human mind and stop living on a hypocritical high ground where all actions must be noble. This is perhaps the most common form of hypocrisy used by people (instrumentally) to sell their actions as noble and lure people into believing their intentions. I have nothing against being instrumental, as long as one is upfront with it.
ED Discussion 12: The Garden of Words ED, Rain [1]
"I don't have the strength anymore
To hold onto a sky welled up with tears.
If you would stay unchanging, hurting me in the corner of my heart
I won't need you anymore"
I have always disliked rain. It is not that I do not recognize its importance in the water cycle and how it maintains a constant water supply for living things, but that in the horribly limited scope of my daily life, it is an inconvenience, possibly drenching me and forcing me to take an umbrella, as well as darkening the skies that would otherwise be a nice warm azure colour (my favourite colour I suppose).
The analogy of rain to love, as in another of Shinkai Makoto's wonderful films Kotonoha no Niwa, is then immediately apparent. As Shinkai himself puts it, love is "uncontrollable and unstoppable", and at worst destructive to the perfectly constructed fine skies of rationality. In a civilized society, where everyone is assigned work that depends on one's sanity and rationality to complete timely, and people who lost this ability would be rendered useless or outcasts even, an emotion as strong as love seems out of place, at least for me.
Kotonoha no Niwa takes place in Tokyo, one of the most metropolitan places in the world. For me, the very first image that comes to mind when Tokyo is mentioned would be its advanced technology, bustling streets, wonderful ensemble of modernized colours blending into each other, creating a feast for the eyes: perhaps why it is my favourite city I have ever visited. Yet, this film is not about the prosperous and metropolitan city, not about the success story of the modern paradise. Most of the interactions between the main characters take place in Shinjuku Gyoen, a place of nature, quite different or even out of place in the heart of Shinjuku.
This other-worldliness extends, of course, to our main characters: Akitsuki Takao, a 15 year old student that is not that much of a student but more of a self-taught shoe apprentice, and skips school every time rain falls to visit the gardens; and Yukino Yukari, a 27 year old teacher of Takao's school, bullied into escaping from her job by upperclassmen.
In a sense, it could be said that it is the strangeness of the couple, their alienation from the expectations of their characters that has brought them together. It is almost as if their strangeness complement each other. Despite being a middle school student, Takao has clear goals, and is mature in his pursuit of dreams. Yet, when faced with the real world, reflected through his meeting with Yukino, it still presents an unfathomable sense of mystery, a primordial sense of fear of the vast world of adulthood. On the other hand, despite being a teacher, Yukino realizes she has plenty to learn, and through Takao's optimism found a way out other than escapism.
Recent events have brought me to ponder upon the meaning behind the flow of time and aging. As I turned 20, I felt this extremely overwhelming sense of uncertainty about the real world. Hitherto, my life goal only consists of examinations, homework, fulfilling the expectation of others, doing stuff in a prescribed manner so as to earn compliments. It is as if the "walls of absurdity" suddenly closed in to me. Under these circumstances, while I am not even sure who I am without these meaningless metrics to inflate my own ego, who am I to touch upon mature emotions such as affection?
Rewatching this film did give me some reassurance that the feeling of alienation is rather commonplace (and, of course, offers consolation to unrequited feelings). In contrast to my viewing near February, when all I could think of was my obsession, I started to notice that the film brings out a theme beyond love and longing, but one of genuine loneliness and absurdity. Shinkai mentions in an exposition of the themes of this movie the concept of love as "lonely sadness" (孤悲). Much as one longs for reciprocation in love, one desires a sense of "nostalgia" for order and familiarity in this cold and unresponsive world, but unfortunately, these wishes are often left unsatisfied.
The analogy of rain to love, as in another of Shinkai Makoto's wonderful films Kotonoha no Niwa, is then immediately apparent. As Shinkai himself puts it, love is "uncontrollable and unstoppable", and at worst destructive to the perfectly constructed fine skies of rationality. In a civilized society, where everyone is assigned work that depends on one's sanity and rationality to complete timely, and people who lost this ability would be rendered useless or outcasts even, an emotion as strong as love seems out of place, at least for me.
Kotonoha no Niwa takes place in Tokyo, one of the most metropolitan places in the world. For me, the very first image that comes to mind when Tokyo is mentioned would be its advanced technology, bustling streets, wonderful ensemble of modernized colours blending into each other, creating a feast for the eyes: perhaps why it is my favourite city I have ever visited. Yet, this film is not about the prosperous and metropolitan city, not about the success story of the modern paradise. Most of the interactions between the main characters take place in Shinjuku Gyoen, a place of nature, quite different or even out of place in the heart of Shinjuku.
This other-worldliness extends, of course, to our main characters: Akitsuki Takao, a 15 year old student that is not that much of a student but more of a self-taught shoe apprentice, and skips school every time rain falls to visit the gardens; and Yukino Yukari, a 27 year old teacher of Takao's school, bullied into escaping from her job by upperclassmen.
In a sense, it could be said that it is the strangeness of the couple, their alienation from the expectations of their characters that has brought them together. It is almost as if their strangeness complement each other. Despite being a middle school student, Takao has clear goals, and is mature in his pursuit of dreams. Yet, when faced with the real world, reflected through his meeting with Yukino, it still presents an unfathomable sense of mystery, a primordial sense of fear of the vast world of adulthood. On the other hand, despite being a teacher, Yukino realizes she has plenty to learn, and through Takao's optimism found a way out other than escapism.
Recent events have brought me to ponder upon the meaning behind the flow of time and aging. As I turned 20, I felt this extremely overwhelming sense of uncertainty about the real world. Hitherto, my life goal only consists of examinations, homework, fulfilling the expectation of others, doing stuff in a prescribed manner so as to earn compliments. It is as if the "walls of absurdity" suddenly closed in to me. Under these circumstances, while I am not even sure who I am without these meaningless metrics to inflate my own ego, who am I to touch upon mature emotions such as affection?
Rewatching this film did give me some reassurance that the feeling of alienation is rather commonplace (and, of course, offers consolation to unrequited feelings). In contrast to my viewing near February, when all I could think of was my obsession, I started to notice that the film brings out a theme beyond love and longing, but one of genuine loneliness and absurdity. Shinkai mentions in an exposition of the themes of this movie the concept of love as "lonely sadness" (孤悲). Much as one longs for reciprocation in love, one desires a sense of "nostalgia" for order and familiarity in this cold and unresponsive world, but unfortunately, these wishes are often left unsatisfied.
Whenever I feel that my emotions left among plenty of tear-soaked tissues from the cold and cruel February are coming back to haunt me, this song is one of the few I put on repeat. There is something really soothing about Motohiro Hata's performance, almost bringing me into the shelter of the pavilion in the Shinjuku Gyoen. There will be no one waiting for me there, nor will there be anyone "staying with me" in the faint rolls of thunder, and the thick mist of perpetual rain from the raining season obscures all that I consider beautiful, the clockwork-like metropolitan of Tokyo. However, is this uncertainty not a beauty in itself, a chance for me to see myself in a view that is clearer than ever?
[1]: I actually think the original performance of Rain by Senri Oe (or at least the version on YouTube) is not very in sync with the tone that I think the movie is trying to convey (It's actually pretty funny). Motohiro Hata's cover, though, is a much better candidate, and brilliantly concludes the film.
