We are pleased to present this interview with Vera Gheno (Type A Fixed-Term Researcher at the Department of Humanities and Philosophy of the University of Florence) on the power of words. Enjoy the read!
Words today seem to exist in a kind of suspended time: we live in an era marked by incessant communication, both offline and online, yet their value appears increasingly diminished, as though their abundance were causing a weakening of their meaning. Do you agree with this view, and how do you interpret the communicative hypertrophy to which we are daily subjected?
I do not at all believe that the value of words has diminished. Rather, I think this is something we tell ourselves to explain our evident and widespread inability to manage the cognitive and communicative complexity of our time. Indeed, we are inundated with a phantasmagoria of words—to borrow an idea from Italo Calvino—but instead of asking how we might make this manageable, we take refuge in the notion that there is no time to properly assess the impact of our communicative actions. It is not that time is truly lacking; it is that we do not allow ourselves that time. I believe we need to slow down; to recognize that we cannot absorb everything that comes our way, and to work on our ability to distinguish between content, news, and information that is truly useful and communicative “waste.”
Words, especially as part of qualitative narratives, are often considered less meaningful than numbers or quantitative metrics. This is also true in corporate sustainability reporting, where the tendency is to measure everything and narrate nothing—not the processes, nor the underlying logic, nor the evolution of ESG efforts over time. Why do you think qualitative texts are perceived as less valuable than numbers, percentages, or quantitative data?
Numbers tend to offer many people a false sense of security. In reality, data are not as indisputable as we often assume; they too must be explained, narrated, and contextualized through language. In my view, the presumed opposition between words and numbers is yet another case of an unnecessary and foolish polarization. Words are strengthened by numbers—I’m thinking here of the vital work done by data humanizers like Donata Columbro—but likewise, numbers are enhanced through their relationship with words. Both words and numbers are ultimately weakened by this entirely unnecessary dichotomy, when what we truly need is a hybrid form of knowledge that fosters connections between the two domains.
In highly polarized contexts, there is often an appeal to dialogue, to an exchange of views mediated by conversation—thus, the promotion of language. But is there a point beyond which words fail and become meaningless? What are the minimum conditions required for a reasonably effective exchange?
I do not believe that it is possible to engage in dialogue with just anyone. As Judith Butler explains in her book Who’s Afraid of Gender?: “Informed public debate becomes impossible when some parties refuse to read the material under dispute. Reading is not just a pastime or a luxury, but a precondition of democratic life, one of the practices that keep debate grounded, focused, and productive.” Can one truly debate with someone who is entirely ignorant of the subject on which they claim to argue? I believe that would be a waste of time. My only hope is to reach those who dwell in the grey area—individuals without unshakeable opinions or prejudices who, recognizing the limits of their knowledge and expertise, are open to other viewpoints and willing to question themselves. One cannot engage in genuine discussion with those who are incapable of doubt.
Which words would you choose to describe the world we live in today, and why?
Drawing on the thought of Piero Dominici, a scholar of complexity, I would choose the adjective complex, along with its supposed opposite—complicated. Today’s world is extraordinarily complex. We need more epistemic tools to understand it, if we are to have any hope of managing such complexity. Yet sometimes, rather than recognizing the underlying patterns, we are overwhelmed by the mistaken belief that complex means complicated, and therefore incomprehensible or chaotic. I do not think the present is so complicated as to be unmanageable; rather, we often forget that sometimes even not understanding everything is a way of discerning the bigger picture. In the spirit of Socratic thought, knowing that we do not know. But not in order to give up—rather, to form alliances of knowledge, in which each person contributes in their own way, whether great or small.
For this reason, the second pair of words I would choose is individual and society. We live in an extremely self-centered world, where the individual and individualism are at the center, and we forget how important it is, for human beings, to exist in relation to others. Humans are social animals. This means we must remember to build networks, to see ourselves as both unique, unrepeatable individuals and as part of a greater whole. And in that whole lies the key to knowledge and the potential to manage complexity: by creating networks of understanding.
Could you recommend a book and a film that might help us better understand your work, or that you believe are important for anyone wishing to engage with your areas of research?
My personal preference is always for science fiction and cinema. I suggest revisiting an older film by Andrew Niccol, Gattaca, which I believe vividly illustrates the dangers inherent in glorifying normalcy and pathologizing difference. As for a book, I would recommend anything by Giorgio Raimondo Cardona, a sociolinguist who passed away far too soon—Introduzione alla sociolinguistica (Turin, UTET, 2009), for instance.