I stumbled on this book in a Goodreads book review. The book provides a fascinating study of communication, drawing on history, philosophy, religion, and science. The title, "Speaking into the Air" is a fitting title; Peters argues that our attempts at communication ultimately fail, but that this failure shouldn't stop us from loving and respecting each other. Communication is a necessity, but is also doomed to miscommunication.
Peters starts his book with two juxtaposed models of communication: Socrates' dialog and Jesus' dissemination. Socrates thought dialog was the only way of true communication with others, and was suspicious of the written word because of all the unnatural relationships it engendered (speaking from a distance, speaking without a bodily presence, interaction with the dead). Socrates' concerns about the written word are very relevant to concerns today regarding texting, social media, etc. Christ, on the other hand, not only approved of the dissemination model of communication, but actively promoted it; his parable of the sower illustrates the broadcasting of a generic answer to a wide audience. I never thought to tie Christ's parable to the mass media in this way, but it is fitting. Interesting thoughts.
Peters examines the philosophy of communication in the works of Augustine, Locke, Kierkegaard, Hegel, and Marx. Some of the biggest issues at stake are the embodiment of thought in the word (can message and messenger be separated? Does the physical embodiment of the message influence the message itself?), and.. well, that's the big one haha.
He also examines the "spiritualizaton" of communication, as physical presence is increasingly less important in communication-- letters, telegraph, phonograph, photography, radio, etc. He also examines forays into communication with the dead, with animals, machines, and aliens.
And, some quotes that stuck out in particular:
The key lies in Abraham's transcendence of the ethical. The universal (which guarantees right action) is both a comfort and a source of despair in its unrelenting command to cast off particularity. As in Adam Smith or Kant, universality is a disciplinary regime. Abraham acts without the comfort or the command of the universal: his is a completely private affair between him and God that cannot be mediated or converted into a spectacle of public heriocs. Unlike tragic heroes such as Agamemnon, whose sacrifice of his daughter Iphigenia is recognized as just by his whole community, Abraham has no recourse to social recognition, no ultimate balm of ethics or metaphysics. All he has is faith. The tragic hero edits a public book; the knight of faith, a sealed book read only by God. (132)
"The moment a lover can answer that objection [why he fell in love with one person among countless possibilities] he is eo ipso not a lover; and if a believer can answer that objection, he is eo ipso not a believer." 134 Kierkegaard
The interpretive wavering before an enigmatic answer is a fundamental experience in the modern world: carrying on a fencing match either with a partner who seems to be responding but whose motives are inscrutable or with one whose responses can never be verified as responses. Modern men and women stand before bureaucracies and their representations or wait by telephones in the same way that sinners stood before the God who hides his face: anxiously sifting the chaos of events for signs and messages. The deus absconditus (hidden god) of theology no longer hides in the farthest corners of the universe; his successor has moved into the infernal machines of administration. (202)
Does nature speak, does God speak, does fate speak, do bureaucracies speak, or am I just making this all up? (204)