How do we know what we know?
I asked this somewhat existential question to a group in the Conversations that Connect class I ran last night, in pairs, in an inquiry process. Participants found it quite intriguing to explore the depths of how they know stuff. How they understand the world. The question asked how their opinions are formed and how they make decisions. In each group, each person brought up different ways they learn and know their world. I was surprised by how everyone resorted to ChatGPT and how that has revolutionised their curiosity and research.
This was inevitable, I guess, since technology has captured us in the way that it has.
A few said they understood their world from experience, i.e., what not to do and what works best. Not one person in the group admitted to just watching and listening, or being in nature, or learning from their group of friends, or the stories their nanny told them when they were young, and how the whanau made sure there was enough fish in the lagoon for ongoing harvesting.
And yet, isn’t this an important question to ask in times like these, when we are more connected than ever before, flooded with information from the news and social media, captivated by sensation, clinging to fragments of knowledge so we have something to add to a conversation?
Our awareness has expanded into a vast and complex global field, but at the cost of not noticing the relational, the real, and the local - and not knowing what we know is the truth or not.
60 - 100 years ago, we would not have known that there was a shooting of school children in a small USA town, but we would have noticed that our neighbour had not put her washing out that day, and the fruit was lying on the ground around her orange tree. We would have quickly recognised that this was not typical and tapped on the door to check that she was all right. And if we did get to hear of the shooting, it would be weeks later in a national newspaper. It would have been ‘international news’.
These days, people don't really notice what's happening in their neighbourhood, because they're inside on the screen being fed all sorts of information and immediate dramas that have no direct relationship or impact on their lives. We are not noticing because priorities have changed, and our attentions have been captured. We are no longer very present to the realities around us. We are resorting to loneliness and being isolated from nature and each other because it takes effort. The consequences of our disconnection are becoming evident.
Noticing is a powerful act. However, it is a lost art. Noticing takes time to cultivate, and time is now a ‘precious commodity’.
Imagine becoming more conscious of what surrounds us, adopting a truly relational way of knowing. Imagine being more present with those around us, sitting down to have dinner with our families each night, spending time yarning with others, noticing the trees on the corner and the birds that visit them, or simply attuning to the subtle changes in our everyday environment.
Groups like Conversations that Connect are gathering, many are publicised through ‘Meet Up’. We are beginning to recognise what we are missing and how isolated and disembodied our learning has become. Many people crave meaningful connection.
Learning through relationships, whether with people, nature, or the objects and experiences that fill our lives, feels much more real and satisfying. How much richer might our world become if we slowed down and gave more time and attention to the relationships that truly matter? The kinds of intelligence nurtured through this way of knowing our world could guide us toward a far more harmonious and sustainable future.
Kaye Avery