your most enchanted listener

2
IEEE TRANSACTIONS ON PROFESSIONAL COMMUNICATION, VOL. PC-24, NO. 2, JUNE 1981 105 Neo-Deep-Speak is the language of sensitivity, awareness, and mysticism; sometimes it degenerates into Verse-Speak. In the epilogue of Ego-Speak, Addeo and Burger become more serious. "Why do we talk?" they ask. Their answer is that we talk because we feel insecure in any number of respects for any number of reasons, and because talking allays our doubts and confusions. Talking is a form of power; it is a means of gaining recognition, establishing rank, and administering punishment; it is also a way of relaxing. And why do we not listen? We fail to listen because listening is difficult. The mind of a good listener has been disciplined to follow the thought of the wise and to suffer the cant of the foolish. The mind of a good listener is also open and ready for reaching out and feeling at one with the strong and the weak, the bold and the modest, for liking whoever is speaking, and for treating all speakers as equals. Your Most Enchanted Listener—Wendell Johnson (New York: Harper and Row, 1956,215 pp., hardbound, $6.95; San Francisco: Intl. Soc. General Semantics, 1972, paperbound, $2.50). Readers who have paid attention so far will recognize at once that they themselves are frequently their own favorite speakers. "I would rather hear myself talk than listen to you," says one disreputable character to another in a recent cartoon. "You are very uninteresting." But is this self-admiring person enchanted} Do we in fact deceive ourselves pleasantly by our everyday speech and in our formal presentations, mistaking shadow for substance, the symbol for the thing represented, falsehood for truth? How can such beguilement come about, and what can it consist of? To enchant is to delude and delight through magic art—through supernatural (i.e., unexplained) power and wonderful effect. Are people in general often the dupes, victims, and uncritical admirers of their own uttered phrases? In varying degrees, yes, according to Wendell Johnson. He thinks that the enchantment of words often resembles the mystifications produced by professional magicians, conjurers, and sleight-of-hand wizards. It occurs, he contends, because in using words we are witnesses of or participants in a process that we are not fully conscious of and do not completely understand. It may indeed be that, unknowing, we hold ourselves captives in the worlds of words inside our heads, and that as we make in our throats the sounds of language, we are blown by winds that we ourselves are blowing (pp. 95, 131). To explain this concept of self-enchantment, Johnson elaborates on the familiar three-part model that represents communication as consisting of sender + message + receiver, or in the case of direct speech, speaker + message -I- listener. Consider the speaker first. What we say is always a product of interaction, the result of physiological give-and-take among the 4 1acts" (as we perceive them) that we are talking about; the vocabulary and language forms at our command; our level of intelligence, funds of general and particular information, feelings and moods, loves and hates, fears and prejudices, and all the conflicts in which these become embroiled within us (p. 177). The "facts" of things and events, as theyfilteror are strained through each speaker's eyes, ears, nerves, and brain tissue, surrender their independent character in the enmeshment of consciousness and capability. Thus, the speaker's knowledge and understanding of the outside world, and what he says about it, are affected by his own abstracting, evaluating, and symbolizing sensory and nervous systems (pp. 128, 153). Thus, when we speak, our talk is self-projection—we have listened to ourselves and transformed our bodily states into linguistic symbols (pp. 66-^9). Thefinalsubstance and quality of every audio-film production—the sounds and pictures presented to audiences—depend on what cam- eras, film, and projectors are capable of, and on the skill of those who handle this equipment. Just so,finalspeech productions—ensembles of word, tone, and gesture—depend on what the speakers can do and have done with the receiving apparatus, language forms, symbolizing processes, and projection apparatus available to them as individuals. These productions also depend, importantly, on each speaker's degree of awareness of these tools and equipment and of the hazards and benefits associated with using them (p. 182). When a speaker speaks, however, nothing physical passes to listeners except gentle vibrations of air and harmless reflections of light, the carriers or media—such insignificant mechanical forces that their immediate, fantastic physiological effects are almost unbelievable. For these weak waves frequently disturb the cardio-vascular system, endocrine glands, autonomie nervous system, skeletal musculature, even the digestion of those on whom they impinge. The results can vary from changes in heart rate and blood pressure, with reddening or blanching of the skin, to an increased sense of general well-being, productive thought, and purposeful action, or, oppositely, to régurgi- tation, loss of consciousness, and even death itself (pp. 185-186). But of course these apparently incongruous effects are not produced by particle vibration only. The messages that the weak waves deliver in code, the symbols that they transmit, "color" these waves and are interpreted. Thus are produced the listeners' reactions. And in every case one of the listeners is the original speaker, enchanted almost always by the perceived grandeur, aptness, or beauty of the production—by his or her own "performance." Why are listeners affected, favorably or unfavorably, by speakers? And why are speakers enchanted by the words and phrases they utter? Certain effects occur, Wendell Johnson points out, because of the ways in which we react to speech symbols. First of all, we tend to feel threatened and be easily disturbed by one another as speakers, but generally trust ourselves and have confidence in our own verbal propagations (p. 185). Second, we tend to talk and plan responses, rather than listen with careful, on-going attention when someone else is speaking (p. 191). Third, when we do pay attention, we often use faulty modes of listening and thereby distort messages in the process of receiving them. As listeners we are too easily distracted by nonessentials—speech impairments, for example, or the dress or comportment of a speaker. We should rather give less heed to these and more to the clarity, logic, truth, and significance of the message (p. 191). As listeners, moreover, we are influenced by the same things, and by interactions among them, that affect speakers—informational background, level of intelligence, emotion, experience, familiarity with language forms and processes, and skill in using this equipment (p. 177). As listeners, and also as speakers, we cherish personal and familiar attitudes, defend belief against fact, decline to question established habits and convictions (p. 203). But most importantly, as listeners we too often take for granted the nature, function, and mode of operation of language; we remain

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Page 1: Your most enchanted listener

IEEE TRANSACTIONS ON PROFESSIONAL COMMUNICATION, VOL. PC-24, NO. 2, JUNE 1981 105

Neo-Deep-Speak is the language of sensitivity, awareness, and mysticism; sometimes it degenerates into Verse-Speak.

In the epilogue of Ego-Speak, Addeo and Burger become more serious. "Why do we talk?" they ask. Their answer is that we talk because we feel insecure in any number of respects for any number of reasons, and because talking allays our doubts and confusions. Talking is a form of power; it is a means of gaining recognition, establishing rank, and administering punishment; it is also a way of relaxing.

And why do we not listen? We fail to listen because listening is difficult. The mind of a good listener has been disciplined to follow the thought of the wise and to suffer the cant of the foolish. The mind of a good listener is also open and ready for reaching out and feeling at one with the strong and the weak, the bold and the modest, for liking whoever is speaking, and for treating all speakers as equals.

Your Most Enchanted Listener—Wendell Johnson (New York: Harper and Row, 1956,215 pp., hardbound, $6.95; San Francisco: Intl. Soc. General Semantics, 1972, paperbound, $2.50).

Readers who have paid attention so far will recognize at once that they themselves are frequently their own favorite speakers. "I would rather hear myself talk than listen to you," says one disreputable character to another in a recent cartoon. "You are very uninteresting."

But is this self-admiring person enchanted} Do we in fact deceive ourselves pleasantly by our everyday speech and in our formal presentations, mistaking shadow for substance, the symbol for the thing represented, falsehood for truth? How can such beguilement come about, and what can it consist of?

To enchant is to delude and delight through magic art—through supernatural (i.e., unexplained) power and wonderful effect. Are people in general often the dupes, victims, and uncritical admirers of their own uttered phrases?

In varying degrees, yes, according to Wendell Johnson. He thinks that the enchantment of words often resembles the mystifications produced by professional magicians, conjurers, and sleight-of-hand wizards. It occurs, he contends, because in using words we are witnesses of or participants in a process that we are not fully conscious of and do not completely understand.

It may indeed be that, unknowing, we hold ourselves captives in the worlds of words inside our heads, and that as we make in our throats the sounds of language, we are blown by winds that we ourselves are blowing (pp. 95, 131).

To explain this concept of self-enchantment, Johnson elaborates on the familiar three-part model that represents communication as consisting of sender + message + receiver, or in the case of direct speech,

speaker + message -I- listener.

Consider the speaker first. What we say is always a product of interaction, the result of physiological give-and-take among the 41acts" (as we perceive them) that we are talking about; the vocabulary and language forms at our command; our

level of intelligence, funds of general and particular information, feelings and moods, loves and hates, fears and prejudices,

and all the conflicts in which these become embroiled within us (p. 177).

The "facts" of things and events, as they filter or are strained through each speaker's eyes, ears, nerves, and brain tissue, surrender their independent character in the enmeshment of consciousness and capability. Thus, the speaker's knowledge and understanding of the outside world, and what he says about it, are affected by his own abstracting, evaluating, and symbolizing sensory and nervous systems (pp. 128, 153).

Thus, when we speak, our talk is self-projection—we have listened to ourselves and transformed our bodily states into linguistic symbols (pp. 66-^9).

The final substance and quality of every audio-film production—the sounds and pictures presented to audiences—depend on what cam­eras, film, and projectors are capable of, and on the skill of those who handle this equipment. Just so, final speech productions—ensembles of word, tone, and gesture—depend on what the speakers can do and have done with the receiving apparatus, language forms, symbolizing processes, and projection apparatus available to them as individuals. These productions also depend, importantly, on each speaker's degree of awareness of these tools and equipment and of the hazards and benefits associated with using them (p. 182).

When a speaker speaks, however, nothing physical passes to listeners except gentle vibrations of air and harmless reflections of light, the carriers or media—such insignificant mechanical forces that their immediate, fantastic physiological effects are almost unbelievable.

For these weak waves frequently disturb the cardio-vascular system, endocrine glands, autonomie nervous system, skeletal musculature, even the digestion of those on whom they impinge. The results can vary from changes in heart rate and blood pressure, with reddening or blanching of the skin, to an increased sense of general well-being, productive thought, and purposeful action, or, oppositely, to régurgi­tation, loss of consciousness, and even death itself (pp. 185-186).

But of course these apparently incongruous effects are not produced by particle vibration only. The messages that the weak waves deliver in code, the symbols that they transmit, "color" these waves and are interpreted. Thus are produced the listeners' reactions. And in every case one of the listeners is the original speaker, enchanted almost always by the perceived grandeur, aptness, or beauty of the production—by his or her own "performance."

Why are listeners affected, favorably or unfavorably, by speakers? And why are speakers enchanted by the words and phrases they utter?

Certain effects occur, Wendell Johnson points out, because of the ways in which we react to speech symbols. First of all, we tend to feel threatened and be easily disturbed by one another as speakers, but generally trust ourselves and have confidence in our own verbal propagations (p. 185).

Second, we tend to talk and plan responses, rather than listen with careful, on-going attention when someone else is speaking (p. 191).

Third, when we do pay attention, we often use faulty modes of listening and thereby distort messages in the process of receiving them. As listeners we are too easily distracted by nonessentials—speech impairments, for example, or the dress or comportment of a speaker. We should rather give less heed to these and more to the clarity, logic, truth, and significance of the message (p. 191).

As listeners, moreover, we are influenced by the same things, and by interactions among them, that affect speakers—informational background, level of intelligence, emotion, experience, familiarity with language forms and processes, and skill in using this equipment (p. 177).

As listeners, and also as speakers, we cherish personal and familiar attitudes, defend belief against fact, decline to question established habits and convictions (p. 203).

But most importantly, as listeners we too often take for granted the nature, function, and mode of operation of language; we remain

Page 2: Your most enchanted listener

106 IEEE TRANSACTIONS ON PROFESSIONAL COMMUNICATION, VOL. PC-24, NO. 2, JUNE 1981

unconscious of the benefits and dangers of linguistic symbolizing (pp. 204^206).

How, then, can we become discerning, just, and creative listeners, unenchanted by our own verbal presentations and undeceived by those of others?

Johnson suggests that we should grow more aware of the processes of speaking and listening—apply the "gentle bravery" of the scientific method to make ourselves familiar with the modes of operation of language (pp. 200-205).

We should, he thinks, inquire into the function of particular words and expressions. "What does this mean?" we should ask, and then consider honestly, and report, explain, and discuss with careful frankness. And we should, with alert attention, not only draw prudent, rational conclusions about the use of language in particular cases, but also continue to investigate and be aware in all cases of how we apply words and receive them.

EMILY SCHLESINGER Baltimore Gas & Electric Co. Baltimore, MD 21203

The Technical Communicator's Handbook of Technology Transfer—Hyman Olken (2830 Kennedy St., Livermore, CA 94550: Olken Publications, 1980, paperback, 140 pp., $13.50, or $12.50 if prepaid).

The author discusses the rather highly specialized role of the technical communicator in promoting the process of technology transfer, i.e., industrial application of technologies that originally had been developed in Government research and development (R&D) programs.

Olken points out that because American industry now devotes less of its resources to basic research, it must try to utilize more of the stockpile of technologies created in such Government-sponsored programs. His theme is that the technical writer or editor employed in Government R&D agencies (such as one of the national laboratories) can play a key role in technology transfer by assisting in the preparation of unpublished articles for technical magazines and conference proceedings. He suggests further that the communicator can prepare an extensive, formal guide to a Government R&D agency so that an outsider can find information and make personal contacts regarding Government-developed technologies.

The first part of the book shows how the communicator can help the engineer to get his story across, how to dig out and publicize "buried" technologies, and how to prepare a historical perspective on a whole family of technologies. This description of helping the engineer is valid and stresses the usual advice to prepare a sound abstract, an adequate introduction, and pertinent diagrams. The author's objectives of finding lost technologies and writing his­torical perspectives are, of course, commendable. Some of the case histories are both intriguing and revealing. But others are not really the best examples and thus tend to weaken the arguments for this special role of the communicator.

Among the better case histories for making unpublished tech­nologies known to industry are articles in Chapter III on (1) an emergency power system that is actuated in 1 /60 of a second after a utility power blackout and (2) a remotely controlled seismic network for studies of earthquakes and nuclear explosions. A third example, however, is not convincing. It pertains to packaged instrumentation for nuclear explosives, published in 1971. This was

not exactly a "lost" technology, nor was it unpublished. It had appeared as Univ. of California Radiation Laboratory report 72148 (available to industry) and also was presented at an American Nuclear Society meeting in January 1970.

In Chapter IV case histories are given for historical perspectives of technologies, published for industry interest. Two of these seem quite good: one on a technique for low-level radiation measure­ments and the other on a very-high-speed oscilloscope. But a third, on cable length measurements, was not published in a vehicle for "industry interest." It appeared instead as an (internal) Data Letter of the Lawrence Radiation Laboratory and seemed to be dis­tributed not to industry but to engineers and technicians at the Laboratory, as cited by the author on p. 118.

Another example claimed to be important for technology transfer was printed-circuit fabrication techniques for mounting solid state devices, p. 49. This claim would seem to be a bit strained because there is literature on fabrication methods for printed circuits in trade magazines, professional society journals, and conference proceedings, widely read by engineers in the electronics industry.

The second part of the book devotes 51 pages to methods for providing a guide through the maze of a Government R&D agency. The purpose of such a comprehensive publication (or set of booklets) is to help the outsider understand the character of the development programs and the details of the laboratory organi­zation. Olken provides a detailed and thorough exposition on this subject and also presents a case history of a guide for the National Bureau of Standards.

This book makes only a passing reference to the National Technical Information Service as another kind of vehicle that aids technology transfer. There are other agencies that publish impor­tant annual subject indexes of Government R&D reports such as NASA, STAR, Government Research Announcements, Energy Research Abstracts, and the former Nuclear Science Abstracts. Searching for technology information is, of course, also widely pursued in industry with the aid of computerized searching services such as Lockheed's DIALOG Systems Development Corp.'s ORBIT system, and Bibliographic Retrieval Service's BRS SEARCH.

The Olken book contains a great deal of information for those technical communicators who work in Government R&D labora­tories. To other technical writers and editors it will be of limited interest.

HERBERT B. MICHAELSON IBM Corporation White Plains, NY 10601

Personal Documentation for Professionals-Vladimir Stibic (New York: North-Holland Publishing Company, 1980, 214 pages, $29.50).

"I know I read something on that some place." We all know the situation. A colleague invites our comments on a topic in which we have some interest. We rummage our memories for a clue to what we've read or where we've read it. Finding no help there, we search our files. Alas! We have either not filed it or misfiled it. "One of these days," we promise ourselves, "I'm going to organize the information I pick up."

Mr. Vladimir Stibic would like to help us. Mr. Stibic is a systems designer with Philips Information Systems and Automation Research in The Netherlands. But, he hastens to tell us, he "was never just a systems designer, but [has] always been a systems user