CHAPTER ONE
Introduction
Theory and Paradox
This book grew out of the authors’ concerns over the popular, almost casual, use of the term ‘information’. Added to that was their aversion towards the obsessive use of theory in the mainstream academic study of Information Systems (IS), and the way that enforced consistency with such theory masquerades as rigour: Structuration Theory, Neo-institutionalism, Actor Network Theory, the Technology Acceptance Model, Systems Theory etc. The authors were concerned that despite all this theoretical overkill, and possibly even because of it, the history of computerization was (and still is) one of the highly expensive failures marching alongside the computer’s domination of business and society. However, the deeper they looked into the issues, the more they began to suspect an enigma, although one that did not lie with IS per se. They now see it as implicit in every field that makes a claim on the production of knowledge, including every scientific endeavour, and every technological development.
This book then is the authors’ catharsis. Both of them eventually came to accept that all theories are limited by intrinsic paradoxes, and not just those theories favoured by their own IS Community. Consequently, this book is intended to have relevance for researchers and students of other subjects far beyond IS, by pointing out that the control the scientific establishment attempts to exercise over a myriad of human activities is both fanciful and misguided. In principle, the book reflects on the limitations in the processes of constructing knowledge, as well as in the methods used to gain that knowledge: epistemology. It sets out to describe both how the processes by which knowledge is created are infested with paradoxes and how these paradoxes come to undermine all epistemological endeavour.
In expressing their dissatisfaction with all the pretence of profundity in their own subject, and in others, the authors are not trying to undermine the utility of theory per se, far from it. This book itself is nothing if not theoretical. They simply, but paradoxically, want to reflect upon the processes that tend to weaken critical thinking whenever theoretical positions are treated as an incontestable reality, when at best those positions exhibit a mere internal consistency. As Einstein observed: ‘As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain; and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality’ (Einstein, 1922).
Often trapped within the vast abstract realms of individual theories, the human species has created conceptually rich yet limited theoretical streams, which appear to grow, and grow, and grow in scale and influence. From such a continuing expansion springs the belief of having achieved a deeper understanding of the world of phenomena in which we are constrained to operate, rather than merely a different, albeit a more detailed and more sophisticated, description; or as Nietzsche would have it, a more ‘granite foundation’ of ‘refined ignorance’.
To demonstrate the validity of their concerns, in this book the authors consider how scientific knowledge comes to be constructed, showing how that construction is fundamentally flawed. These flaws are not contingent on each theory in itself, rather they are a precondition for each theory to exist. Despite being flawed, communities nevertheless arise around the application of such theories. Why? Because kept within limits, each community-accepted theory is an excellent means of temporary communication within that community. There each theory, as the chosen one, bestows the benefits of legitimacy on any consequent analysis. However, take any theory beyond its limits, beyond its life span, beyond its utility, beyond its community, and claim for it an absolute truth, then it becomes absurd; and hubris beckons.
In order to illustrate these ideas, this book will dip into an eclectic mix of deeply theoretical issues that propagate across many disciplines, and not just those popular in study of IS, or more generally in the social sciences. Indeed, examples from physics and mathematics will be used liberally to make the point. These latter examples, guided as they are by specific theories, and with their predictive aspects, are the envy of the mere normative theories prevalent in the study of the social sciences including the so-called management sciences. However, the authors concur with Nietzsche’s introductory quotation above, taken from Beyond Good and Evil, and insist that physics and mathematics too have ‘feet of clay’. In pointing at such an irony, this book acknowledges the debate raging within the IS field, and more widely in the social sciences: namely whether the testing of hypotheses in quantitative research is ‘more legitimate’ than in qualitative research: a position taken by a good majority in the social science communities, at least until recently.
In a detour, the book rather grandiosely, and with not a little irony, challenges the endeavour in physics of searching out a Grand Unified Theory (science’s ultimate dominion over the human condition), and to a small extent considers what such a contradiction might entail. The main message of the book itself encapsulates a paradox, entailing the rejection of the proposition that a movement towards a deeper understanding is possible, because for the authors there is no understanding, only a description constructed for the sole purpose of utility.
The authors will not be restricting themselves to physics, or for that matter to the natural sciences, which to them are far from natural. Nor are they mostly interested in the mathematical framework that supports the efforts for a Grand Unified Theory. Much more interesting is the projected purpose behind such theories, and particularly the underlying epistemological contradictions that theories inevitably entail. Actually, the authors propose that such contradictions, far from being problematic, are a necessary prerequisite for theories to evolve in the first place. They will argue that there can never be a theory of everything, for reasons based on the fundamental epistemic nature of human observation and cognition. The authors insist that there can be no separation between sensing and the making sense of things in the world. Observation and cognition are inextricably linked; they are structurally coupled. This they claim will impact the nature and scope of every scientific, indeed every theoretical endeavour that insists on such separation, and so will have profound implications for any consequent research.
Even though the authors recognize that some philosophical similarities can indeed be drawn to Gödel’s Theorem of Incompleteness (Gödel and Feferman, 1986), conceptually they still argue that their thesis stretches beyond strictly formulated mathematical implications and logical consequences. This book considers how every scientific construct is formulated from interpretable observations, and the premises that guide them. Much of the work is based on an analysis of ‘self-referential systems’, as portrayed in the seminal works of Professor Niklas Luhmann: Social Systems (Luhmann, 1995), Essays of Self-Reference (Luhmann, 1990) and Theories of Distinction (Luhmann, 2002b).
The authors will postulate that there is no way out of several of these paradoxical contradictions, and describe each scientific construct as a multitude of intrinsically paradoxical and co-evolving self-referential systems: a phrase that hopefully will come to mean much more to the reader after absorbing the analysis of the major concepts involved.
The Delusion of a ‘Theory of Everything’
The human urge to uncover the ultimate information about how ‘reality’ functions remains as strong in us as ever. For example, Hungarian philosopher Ervin László (László, 2007) introduced the notion of the Akashic1 Field: the field of information that unifies all things. Many highly reputable scientists (physicists in the main) have been, and are still, optimistic about eventually uncovering such a ‘Theory of Everything’. Just before the turn of the twenty-first century, one of the authors (Dionysios Demetis) was present at a physics colloquium where the distinguished professor Stephen Hawking was a speaker. Hawking outlined his vision of such a Theory of Everything, saying that we might be very close to fulfilling this promise. A decade later that promise looks equally remote; but few scientists have given up on that dream.
The authors’ aim in this book is not to undermine that aspiration, but instead to demonstrate that a belief in such unification can considerably restrict other perspectives. They are not alone in claiming that humanity is incapable of articulating such a Grand Theory. Many have expressed doubts over such an endeavour (Hayek, 1952; Lindley, 1994), although most recent attention has been supportive of the notion. The authors intend that the justification of their stance will gradually become apparent as this book proceeds; all the while their treatise on self-reference, paradox and observation, and various interrelationships, will hopefully approach the subject matter in a way that will clarify the issues, although they will be the first to admit that their own underlying substance is also paradoxical.
To the authors, a Theory of Everything is the grandest manifestation of a delusion; they use the word delusion here to denote an epistemic position, a state of mind, and not as a derogatory expression. An epistemic position automatically implies a description of how we humans know what we know (Crotty, 1998), but this they argue occurs via a delusion that is constructed to be personally convincing; a delusion that arises from the necessity of observing, and yet all the while observing leaves much unobserved. Socrates summed it all up in his famous quotation: ‘All that I know is that I know nothing.’2
This book presents the drive towards a Theory of Everything as a demonstrably impossible dream, and implies that science does not uncover ‘truth’. The fundamental premise is that observation in general is an a priori requirement for the formulation of any theoretical construct. However, there can be no observation without a distinction, but with that distinction other things go unobserved. Therefore a Theory of Everything, by definition, cannot take into account any difference or distinction, because then something would be left outside of the scope of the theory, and therefore would not be included in the theoretical construct itself.
Residual Category and Non-reference
Professor Niklas Luhmann captured the power of this fundamental concept in the following quotation:
When observers continue to look for an ultimate reality, a concluding formula, a final identity, they will find the paradox. Such a paradox is not simply a logical contradiction (A is non-A) but a foundational statement: The world is observable because it is unobservable. Nothing can be observed (not even the ‘nothing’) without drawing a distinction, but this operation remains indistinguishable. It can be distinguished, but only by another operation. Or to say it in Derrida’s style, the condition of its possibility is its impossibility (Luhmann, 2002b).
‘The world is observable because it is unobservable.’ ‘The condition of its possibility is its impossibility.’ These two apparently nonsensical sentences actually make perfect sense. What Luhmann is saying is that observation is not, cannot be, what we think it is; hence the present authors’ (over)use of the word delusion. Observation of a part is only possible because the whole is unobservable. Not that the whole in this respect can be defined, for then that whole would need to be distinguished from everything but the whole itself: namely, distinguished from nothingness. Such separation is intrinsically problematic for reasons that will be investigated in this book, starting with the impossibility of defining nothing, as noted by Luhmann. The whole therefore takes on two different meanings in itself, introducing yet another distinction: (1) the whole defined by an observation that separates that whole into what is being observed, and what is not; and (2) the whole as the external reality that cannot be investigated without the operation of observation.
By necessity, the act of observation actively involves the observer in the world so that he3 has choices, and is not at the mercy of inertia. It becomes evident that in observing, the observed part is distinguished, separated. That very act implies that the separation between what can be observed and what must be left unobserved is more of a necessity than a mere compromise. However, such a necessity comes with problems and paradoxes. What is observed is not the thing itself, but an internalized representation of that thing, which has to fit into categories constructed for it by observation, cognition and delusion.
The cognitive sampling and categorization of things observed in the world is both the result of observation and the means whereby observation is possible. We don’t observe categories, rather through categories. The very act of categorization remains an obscure selection process that is guided by the success or otherwise of previously chosen categories. Each observation categorizes things in the world via the imposition of linear distinctions. These things are separated within the observed scene, but they still remain structurally coupled to the rest of the world. These couplings are lost to the particular observer, but they remain part of a non-referential system created by the self-reference imposed by original observation (as the unobservable part of the distinction). However, they may appear as other-referential systems within the self-reference of other observers.
Whatever the scenario that comes into play, an observer creates a distinction that always leaves something unobserved as a precondition of observing the something that has been selected. Here, the word linear is used to mean the categorization on which cause-and-effect processes are insinuated, and that exhibits a directly related change; it is where action always ends with a reaction. Thus, from this perspective, linearity is unavoidably imposed by both science and technology, which derive from, and function under, the causality hypothesis. All methods are linearity imposed on a non-linear world: all observations likewise. However, the ensuing paradoxes will necessarily introduce uncertainty; should this prove disruptive then we are back to the problem of structuring the observation, which leads to yet more paradoxes.
It is erroneous/absurd to insist that a categorical representation of a thing is identical to the apparent thing-in-itself, because ‘the map is not the terrain’. And yet this is accepted as an all too common position. Not that there is necessarily such a thing as a thing-in-itself, only that somehow an intellectual process is triggered that convinces the observer of the thing’s existence. The concept of something in-itself, of something per se, or however that concept is stated, is merely an abstraction that removes all observers from the existence of that thing. The notion of a thing-in-itself denies the variety of categories that may be imposed on it by the existence of different observers, and thereby allows the delusion of objectivity to enter the arena of knowledge.
Luhmann exposed the shaky basis of objectivity with his recognition of the fallacy of treating the remainder of any one thing as a separate residual category. For such treatment would imply that the structural couplings have simply disappeared in the separation, and that the two parts no longer comprise the original whole. Thus observation, by its very nature, must introduce asymmetry: couplings are made to disappear from within what is by necessity the linear representation of that observation; but those couplings are still there in the world. The couplings constitute a non-linear phenomenon existent both in what we abstract to be the thing-in-itself and in the unobserved remainder; however, they will have disappeared from the corresponding abstractions. The two artificially separated parts will continue to operate, and perhaps interact within the unobservable whole; but not in the observation. Hence, observation is conditional, but those conditions are necessarily unobservable, unappreciable, uncertain. Hidden in paradox, beyond observation, beyond cognition, beyond memory, beyond logic, steeped in uncertainty, they are necessary preconditions of observation, cognition, memory and logic.
But observe we do. As humans, we continuously observe the paradoxical residual categories of previous observations, and store them in memory. By observing, we introduce and pioneer new connections amongst our ever-expanding set of artificially introduced constructs. Piling them up, memory upon memory, paradox upon paradox, albeit each kept artificially separated. All thought of the fundamental asymmetries is conveniently ignored in our tidy linear descriptions, deluding ourselves that through observation we ‘understand’ the ‘real world’ of phenomena. However, as Lewis Caroll remarked: ‘It’s a poor sort of memory that only works backwards’ (Carroll, 1994). Consequently the authors shy away from using the word ‘understanding’. Instead, they prefer to use ‘cognition’, which for them implies only the grasping of a limited description of what is perceived. In this book, understanding is treated as an umbrella-term that represents the shared-delusions of those individuals who suppress the paradoxes they have each created in their individual observations, and who forget about the structural couplings that each has severed.
Perhaps some comment on the nature of paradox is called for here. The issue of paradox is often illustrated by reference to Bertrand Russell’s village barber who shaves all and only those men in the village who don’t shave themselves. There is a paradox in ‘who shaves the barber?’4 If the barber shaves himself then he shouldn’t, and if he doesn’t then he m...