. . . but I disagree with George Scialabba on two, related, points. First and foremost (as can probably be gathered from the title of this post), I think the word "expert" has now become a club to beat people over the head, rather than a descriptor of a person actively engaged in the pursuit of knowledge in any particular field. Expertise used to denote a refinement of knowledge, but did not connote exclusivity. Anymore, however, one becomes an "expert" at the expense of pretty much everything else. Whether one is an "expert" in atomic physics, say, or film acting, this seems automatically to preclude any understanding outside one's chosen field (unless, of course, we happen to agree with the views expressed by this or that "expert").
I claim no expert knowledge in any particular field whatsoever, nor have I ever. I find the whole notion of expertise to be as outmoded as phlogiston and the luminiferous ether. One can, if one is so inclined, become conversant in all sorts of areas of understanding - in science, literature, philosophy, art criticism, the social sciences - without claiming any as an area in which one lives one's life. It really isn't that hard, as long as one familiarizes oneself, in a general way, with the vocabulary, the peculiarly apt way these fields discuss their topics. If one begins with the premise that, whether it's physics or philosophy, the median intelligence of those pursuing these topics is about the same as that of the auto mechanic and the accountant, one at least has the advantage that one can get an understanding perhaps at least as clear as about half those so engaged in pursuing these specialties.
So much for expertise.
Second, Scialabba seems content to accept the multiplication of perspectives as unique, distinct, and incommunicable. That is to say, a social scientist not only views events in a way different than, say, an analytical philosopher, these two spheres seem to require that one place all one's perspective at the foot of whatever idol these branches of understanding (not to say "knowledge") serve. In other words, these points of view cease to be merely that, and become, for all practical purposes, totalitarian.
Bosh.
I consider myself generally conversant in all sorts of areas, but would hardly think of myself as occupying some high seat from which to pronounce authoritatively on anything whatsoever. I am certainly open to the charge that I can be, and have been, wrong. Every time I read a comment in which I am charged with being an "intellectual", I have to laugh, because, quite frankly, like "expert", the word has ceased to mean anything. To be engaged with ideas and their relation to our common life is to be an active citizen. It is to take the best ideas of our liberal education - in the original meaning of those two words - and apply them to one's life. That there is far more out there for me to learn, even to acquaint myself with, I take as a given.
The other notion - the multiplication of divisions of understanding creating the impossibility of any comprehensive understanding, and therefore, critique - is also nonsensical. This idea does not create "vertigo" as George claims. Instead (at least for me), it just seems to create laughter. It is nothing less than a combination of hubris and ignorance to claim that if one is a sociologist, one by definition cannot take a non-sociological position on non-sociological topics.
More than that, it is a violation of our most cherished Republican values. We are all to be conversant in those areas that impinge on our common life. The actor, the physicist, the unemployed artisan, the artist - we are all together in this mess and have a perspective, a voice to be heard and considered. I often find it hysterically funny that right-wingers get their panties in a bunch when an actor takes a public position at odds with their own. "Why should we listen to 'X' on this matter? He/She is only an actor!" Yet, the brightest star in recent right-wing myth-formation spent the earliest part of his life as "only" a film actor (and, really, not a very good one). Whatever a person does to help pay the bills, or if they are lucky enough to do so, whatever pays their bills and fulfills the deepest yearnings of their hearts and makes them be, fully, themselves, has no bearing on the merits of any public position they may or may not take on issues vital to all of us.
One can be overwhelmed by the idea that only "experts" should say anything about matters of public import. This is, however, a violation of the Republican social contract, a surrender of the most important role any of us have - the engaged citizen. Recent political and social reality actually gives the lie to this notion. The rise of Barack Obama in 2008 was due, in no small part, to the creation of an active, engaged public through a deliberate outreach from his campaign. People responded for any number of reasons, but the larger point is this - whatever his faults as President, as a candidate, Barack Obama not only understood that active participation in our public life is a vital necessity for reestablishing our political infrastructure; he lived it out, got people motivated, got people talking. The reality of the political internet, both left and right, also belies this (always false) idea that we should leave to the "experts" the regulation of our public affairs. Since most such experts have been revealed as naked Emperors (some of whom continue to appear in public without acknowledging their own nudity), it seems more vital and necessary than ever to celebrate the return of something like an active, engaged political consciousness among the people. Whether we disagree or agree on issues, or even fundamentals, the past couple years gives the lie to the idea that "knowledge" and "expertise" should trump simple engagement.
