The Ghost in the Machine by Arthur Koestler Read Free Book Online

direct associations of
    the word 'right' itself with other words, but to meanings which are
    determined by some broader relations. . . . Any theory of grammatical
    form which ascribes it to direct associative linkage of the words
    of the sentence overlooks the essential structure of speech. [5]
     
This is of course an extreme example of contrived ambiguity, but it
makes its point with a vengeance against the S-R theorist who contends
that speech sounds are 'like other bits of behaviour', and that language
calls for no principles of explanation other than those employed in the
operant conditioning of lower animals.
     
     
The ideal situation from the S-R theorist's point of view is a
typist -- let's call her Miss Resp -- taking dictation from her boss,
Mr. Stims. Here, one would think, we have a perfect example for a linear
chain of sound stimuli controlling a string of key-pressing responses
(Miss Resp being reinforced by Stims with the prospect of a salary). Since
complex behaviour is supposedly the result of the chaining of simple
S-R links, we must assume that each sound emitted by Stims will cause
Miss Resp to type the corresponding letter (provided he dictates at the
same speed at which she types, which is assumed). But we know of course
that something quite different happens. Miss Resp waits expectantly,
doing nothing, until at least half the sentence is completed, then,
like a sprinter at the starter's shot, races ahead until she has caught
up with Stims; then waits expectantly with an admiring expression on her
face. The phenomenon is known to experimental psychologists as 'lagging
behind'; it also occurs in Morse telegraphy and has been studied in
great detail.* Miss Resp was lagging behind because she was mentally
engaged in climbing the tree of language: first up, from sound level to
word level to phrase level, then down again. The downward climb in the
case of a skilled typist leads from 'phrase habit' through 'word habit'
to 'letter habit'. The letter habits (hitting the correct key) are part
of the word habits (a pre-set patterned sequence of movements triggered
off as a single unit), which are part of the phrase habit (familiar
turns of phrase which activate 'sweeps' of movements as integrated
wholes). Although the performance is to a large extent as 'automatic'
or 'mechanical' as any Behaviourist could wish for, it is nevertheless
impossible to represent it as a linear chain of conditioned responses,
because it is a multidimensional operation constantly oscillating between
various levels, from the phonological to the semantic. No typist can be
conditioned to take dictation in a language she does not know. It is this
very complex knowledge, and not the chaining of simple S-R connections,
which makes Miss Resp's fingers dance on the keyboard to Mr. Stim's
reinforcing voice. And, oh wonder, she can even type a letter withou t
dictation, for instance to her fiancé in Birmingham. In this case her
behaviour is presumably controlled by S-R links which, like gravity,
are capable of action-at-a-distance.
* For a more detailed treatment see The Act of Creation,
     Chapter, 'Motor Skills', pp. 544.
     
The Postman and the Dog
     
     
So far I have touched on only a few of the difficulties of explaining
how we convert pressure variations on the eardrum into ideas. Even
more formidable is the problem how we convert ideas into air-pressure
waves. Take a simple example: the farmer's little boy of about three,
leaning out of the window, sees the dog snapping at the postman, and the
postman retaliating with a vicious kick. All this happens in a flash, so
fast that his vocal chords have not even had the time to get innervated;
yet he knows quite clearly what happened and feels the urgent need
to communicate this as yet unverbalised event, image, idea, thought,
or what-have-you, to his mum. So he bursts into the kitchen and shouts
breathlessly: 'The postman kicked the dog.' Now the first remarkable
fact about this is that he