Slow Havamal: 29

[kylec]

In the 29th verse, we are cautioned that for all our talking, we will say nothing if we refuse to close our mouth. That a fast-moving, undisciplined tongue often makes trouble for its owner.

While the wise know the answer and how to explain it, a fool runs his trap without ceasing. He confuses wisdom for communication. Any number of things can be said about a given topic. It can be expounded at length, summed up, or given in pertinent detail. Regardless of length, an explanation can be phrased any number of ways. Whether its wise or foolish, this is communication. Symbols and sounds exchanged between individuals, to stand for some deeper relationships that we hope the person can integrate into their experience in a manner similar to our own. For example, a New England fool can rattle off facts about the state of Indiana, while a lifelong resident can give rich detail. Both are attempting to frame an abstraction for a third party—the state of Indiana—so that the party sees it closely to the way they see it. None of what’s conveyed is understanding. It’s information. Understanding, or meaning, arises only out of one’s personal experience. It isn’t transferred. It emerges.

The mistake of the fool is to confuse communication for wisdom. I argue that no wisdom can be communicated. At best, the wise guide us to certain doorways of experience, that we may go find out for ourselves. I’ve had the fortune to learn a few subjects to at least a middling level of knowledge. Somewhere soon after grasping the basics, there’s an intoxicating desire to preach all that I know to anyone with an ear, under the presumption that I now know a lot and am qualified to share it. This is the Mount Stupid of the Duning-Kruger effect previously discussed. As knowledge deepens, I find I know a lot less than I thought. So much less, in fact, that I’m embarrassed to even try to share.

As I look to the real wise men, I notice they can often be spotted by their economy of communication. The fool recites all that he knows, then rephrases it three times, hoping the length of his speech and the jargon employed will raise his stature. The wise man gives what’s necessary, in a form the listener can benefit from. He knows he can’t possibly convey everything, nor does he try.

Rambling is often the fool’s undoing. Liars get caught by giving too many details, which eventually conflict. Idiots talk themselves into a tangle, and it becomes clear they never knew where they were going to begin with. It’s possible to have a hasty tongue that is also disciplined, the verse hints, but not likely. It’s more often a sign of insecurity, of pandering, of trying to convince one’s self as much as the audience. We could extend this to our thoughts. The more our minds ramble on with disconnected chatter, the more it leads to our undoing. But a disciplined mind focuses on those essential threads which lead it to its destination.