A Concept is Born: Sense Memory and Name Creation

June 24, 1988

Experience is characterized by memory of sensual information in all its detail. Analysis of this data can be retroactively applied. I can remember that:

“Yes, the sky was grey and windy just prior to the tree falling behind me.”

and therefore come to understand a set of events later, in some other context. Using this sensual memory aids abstraction and analysis because it acts as the raw material out of which abstractions can be built. Thus it is possible at a later date to reflect on past events and discover related occurences where before there was unorganized memory.

Learning of patterns is continuous:

“What was that?”

This question initially gets very simplistic answers when asked by toddlers and children. It takes nearly 20 years for humans to talk about philosophy in a formal way. But as slight variations to the simple occurences of events are experienced, the agent (learner) begins to organize subclasses of the same general event, especially if the social world provides him a useful distinction to use to characterize the subclass. In doing so, the subclass name becomes a synonym for the general idea.

Creative research by the agent (learner) is characterized by the creation of new distinguishing marks and the choosing of a class name for those marks. Communication with others regarding the subclass then becomes a matter of describing those marks, providing the short hand name, and obtaining agreement from the others that both the marks and the name are apropos.

And thus a concept is born…

Bridge Contexts: Meaning in the Edgeless Boundary

Previously, I’ve written about the idea of the “edgeless boundary” between semiospheres for someone with knowledge of more than one context. This boundary is “edgeless” because to the person perceiving it, there is little or no obvious boundary.

In software systems, especially in situations where different software applications are in use, the boundary between them, by contrast, can be quite stark and apparent. I’ll describe the reasons for this in other postings at a later time. The nutshell explanation is that each software system must be constrained to a well-defined subset of concepts in order to operate consistently. The subset of reality about which a particular application system can capture data (symbols) is limited by design to those regularly observable conditions and events that are of importance to the performance of some business function.

Often (in an ideal scenario), an organization will select only one application to support one set of business functions at a time. A portfolio of applications will thus be constructed through the acquisition/development of different applications for different sets of business functions. As mentioned elsewhere on this site, sometimes an organization will have acquired more than one application of a particular type (see ERP page). 

In any case, information contained in one application oftentimes needs to be replicated into another application within the organization.  When this happens, regardless of the method by which the information is moved from one application to another, a special kind of context must be created/defined in order for the information to flow. This context is called a “bridging context” or simply a “bridge context”.

As described previously, an application system represents a mechanized perception of reality. If we anthropomorphize the application, briefly, we might say that the application forms a semiosphere consisting of the meaning projected onto its syntactic media by the human developers and its current user community, forming symbols (data) which carry the specifically intended meaning of the context.

Two applications, therefore, would present two different semiospheres. The communication of information from one semiosphere to the other occurs when the symbols of one application are deconstructed and transformed into the symbols of the other application, with or without commensurate changes in meaning. This transformation may be effected by human intervention (as through, for example, the interpretation of outputs from one system and the re-coding/data entry into the other), or by automated transformation processes of any type (i.e., other software).

“Meaning” in a Bridging Context

Bridging Contexts have unique features among the genus of contexts overall. They exist primarily to facilitate the movement of information from one context to another. The meaning contained within any Bridging Context is limited to that of the information passing across the bridge. Some of the concepts and facts of the original contexts will be interpretable (and hence will have meaning) within the bridging context only if they are used or transformed during this flow.  Additional information may exist within the bridge context, but will generally be limited to information required to perform or manage the process of transformation.

Hence, I would consider that the knowledge held or communicated by an individual (or system) operating within a bridging context which is otherwise unrelated to either of the original contexts, or of the process of transference, would existing outside of the bridging context, possibly in a third context. As described previously, the individual may or may not perceive the separation of knowledge in this manner.

Special symbols called “travellers” may flow through untouched by transformation and unrecognized within the bridging context. These symbols represent information important in the origin context which may be returned unmodified to the origin context by additional processes. During the course of their trip across the bridging context(s) and through the target contexttravellers typically will have no interpretation, and will simply be passed along in an unmodified syntactic form until returned to their origin, where they can then be interpreted again. By this definition, a traveller is a symbol that flows across a bridge context but which only has meaning in the originating context.

Given a path P from context A to context B, the subset of concepts of A that are required to fulfill the information flow over path P are meaningful within the bridging context surrounding P. Likewise, the subset of concepts of B which are evoked or generated by the information flowing through path P, is also part of the content of the bridge context.  Finally, the path P may generate or use information in the course of events which are neither part of context A nor B. This information is also contained within the bridge context.

Bridge contexts may contain more than one path, and paths may transfer meaning in any direction between the bridged contexts. For that matter, it is possible that any particular bridging context may connect more than two other contexts (for example, when an automated system called an “Operational Data Store” is constructed, or a messaging interface such as those underlying Service Oriented Architecture (SOA) components are built).

An application system itself can represent a special case of a bridging context. An application system marries the context defined by the data modeller to the context defined by the user interface designer. This is almost a trivial distinction, as the two are generally so closely linked that their divergence should not be considered a sign of separate contexts. In this usage, an application user interface can be thought of as existing in the end user’s context, and the application itself acts to bridge that end user context to the context defining the database.

Packaged Apps Built in Domains But Used In Contexts

Packaged applications are software systems developed by a vendor and sold to multiple customers. Those applications which include some sort of database and data storage especially are built to work in a “domain”.

The “domain” of the software application is an abstract notion of the set of contexts the software developers have designed the software to support. While the notion of “domain” as described here is similar to and related to the notion of “context”, the domain of the software only defines the potential types of symbols that can be developed. In other words, the domain defines a syntactic medium (consisting of physical signs, functions and transformations on those signs, and the encoding paradigm).

But the software application domain is NOT its context. Context, when applied to software applications, is defined by the group of people who use the software together.

There’s a difference, therefore, between how developers and designers of business software think about and design their systems, and how those systems are used in the real world. No matter how careful the development process is, no matter how rigorous and precise, no matter how closely the software matches the business requirements, and no matter how cleanly and completely the software passed its tests, the community using the software will eventually be forced to bend it to a purpose for which it was never intended.

This fact of life is the basis of several relatively new software development paradigms, including Agile and Extreme Programming, and the current Service-Oriented Architecture. In each of these cases, the recognition that the business will not pause and wait while IT formally re-writes and re-configures application systems.

One of the shared tenets of these practices is that because the business is so fluid, it is impossible to follow formal development methods. In SOA, the ultimate ideal is a situation where the software has become so configurable (and so easy to use), that it no longer requires IT expertise to change the behavior. The business users themselves are able to modify the operation of the software daily, if necessary.

The Context Continuum

So my previous post about the “Origins of a Context” was grossly simplistic. That is however, a good way to get a basic idea out there. Obviously there are many complex factors and layers of influence that affect the extent and content of a context.

One way to look at context is as a continuum from the very small to the very large. This “size” measurement is a reflection of the number of people who share the context, not necessarily the size of the population of concepts and symbols within it.

As I’ve said in other places, a context is defined by its membership first, and its content second.

Hence, by my definition, the smallest context is defined by a single human being. That person would create contexts of a private nature: mementos of their life and personal mnemonics. If the person were artistic, they might create art and artifacts of personal importance. These personal symbols would remain private until the person shares them with someone else.

As soon as they have been shared, even if only with one other person, these artifacts take on additional meaning and become community symbols. Once they have been placed into a larger community, further refinement and re-enforcement of the symbol becomes a community activity. For the original “artist”, their conception can take on a life of its own, and they may lose control over it.

As more and more people become aware of a symbol, the broader the context becomes. But in addition, the symbol itself will begin to change its meaning, either becoming much more generic and broad, or tightening up to some exclusively minimized idea. As soon as this happens (and it happens almost immediately after it begins to be shared) correct interpretation of the symbol must, by definition, take into account which context’s version of the symbol is being considered. Other writers have referred to this issue as one of identifying the “situational” meaning of the symbol, while others talk about the symbol’s “frame”. In my mind these are the same thing as what I’m calling “context”.

So what does this continuum of contexts look like? I’ve drawn a first draft diagram of the smooth transition from personal symbol to the “semiosphere”. It identifies the types and relative sizes of contexts and presents some of the names of their various features. It also shows where in the continuum various types of study and research fall.

I make no claims of absolute accuracy here, and invite comments from experts in these fields (and any others who want to project onto my template).


Continuum of Context from Single Person to Semiosphere

Continuum of Context from Single Person to Semiosphere


Different Contexts Use Different Signs

The following is an excerpt from one of my permanent pages.

Photo of an Actual Stop Sign In Its Normal Context

Photo of an Actual Stop Sign In Its Normal Context

In the Context defined for “driving a car in the United States,” a particularly shaped, painted metal plate attached to a wooden post which has been planted in the ground at the intersection of two roads and facing toward oncoming vehicles represents the concept of a command to the oncoming motorist to “stop” their vehicle when they reach the intersection.

However, a similarly colored and shaped object, say a computer bitmap of a drawing of a “stop sign”, not only is represented by a different Syntactic Medium, it exists in an entirely different context (perhaps one that is not obviously recognized by the casual observer).


Cartoon Drawing of a Stop Sign
Cartoon Drawing of a Stop Sign

If this computer bitmap “stop sign” were to be displayed on a large computer monitor, and this computer monitor was used to replace the wood and metal Stop Sign, even if placed in the same position and orientation as the more typical structure, it is not certain that every driver would recognize the validity of the new Syntactic Medium, which could lead to accidents! This example should give the reader a clear understanding of how a Context constrains and defines the physical structures that are permitted to represent the concepts it contains.


For simplicity sake, let’s consider that Meaning, in the ultimate sense of the term, has NO STRUCTURE. In actual fact, it has been proposed that each human being will contain some physical characteristics which may ultimately be recognized as the structure of meaning within their heads. However, it is my opinion that whatever turns out to be that structure, there will be no commonality of the specific structures for similar concepts in two different people’s brains. So while individual human’s brain structures may be replicable after we reach the “Singularity”, they most likely will not be directly translatable. (In other words, I think there will never be a time when two humans can read the information in each other’s heads.) Each brain structure will have developed in similar fashions, but under the mathematical and physical laws of Chaos theory. In other words, each individual brain will be as unique unto itself as a snowflake.

January 26, 2007

The Origin of a Context

On this blog and in the writings of many other people through history, the idea of “context” as a component of the definition, interpretation and usage of symbols plays a large role. Be it called “situational” or “cultural” or any of a number of sometimes more and sometimes less academic notions, context provides the key (just as a cipher is a key to an encryption code) to interpreting any message. Without knowing the context, many messages will be uninterpretable, or even worse, unrecognizable.

But what is “context” really? Where does it come from? Here is my decidedly informal discription.


Two people thinking their own thoughts meet for the first time

A conversation starts and one tells a story.

The other listens, interpreting silently what she hears into her own experiences.

She then responds, reflecting what she thought she heard, but with a variation or two. 

Conversation Begins

Conversation Begins

The first person agrees with some of her response. He hadn’t at first thought of the variation, but now that she’s mentioned it, he knows she’s on to something.


Conversation Ends Context Begins

Conversation Ends Context Begins

The two part company, carrying a memory of their conversation.

When they meet again, they will reinforce and reiterate their common perceptions on the matter. This is the origin point of CONTEXT: the set of principles and concepts that the two agree about, and the shared vocabulary they have used to describe them.

NEWS FLASH: Locals Choose Different Terms for Same Thing – Soda versus Pop

In some parts of the US, carbonated beverages are called “sodas”, and in others they are called “pops”. Both terms are contractions of their original “soda pop”.

So what happened here? It begins simply with a handful of people in each location. Different people in each region get tired of using the full phrase “soda pop”. They start speaking in a short hand with their friends or neighbors, and soon everyone around them is doing the same thing. This is how context works: group of people experiencing the same things communicating. Over time, they coin terms and colloquialisms to make their communication faster and more efficient. Some of these are simply contractions of compound terms. Others may start out as names of specific examples, or perhaps descriptive metaphors or euphemisms that suddenly take on a life of their own.

The point is that different contexts end up with different contractions, slang, etc. for the same things. Over time, this usage spreads out among the local population to become a regionalism. Given enough time and geographic separation, I imagine, this is how dialects arise, and how languages split off from dialects.

Context Switching: Image and Identity

Prof. Lindsay Clark responded to a comment I made on her blog by describing her thoughts about the differences between self image, self identity and social identity.

If I may try to separate her concepts a little, I think that “self identity” I might define loosely as the “meaning I want to project to the world about who I am”. In other words, its the information I want to share, the things I want the world to think about me. 

I might consider that “self image” be defined as “what I think I mean to myself alone”. This being private, I would tend to keep a lot more of my interior personna to myself than I try to project. 

Leaving “social identity” to be defined as “what others think I represent or stand for (or, the meaning of me in the world)”. This would be the amalgamation of “messages received” not necessarily the messages I intended to send.

And while I think there would be strong relationships and hopefully a good bit of overlap among these three sets, they are necessarily not the same things.

The teenager example Prof. Clark chose is a good one because it shows these ideas in microcosm. She wrote:

The artifacts of this tend to be personal and may not be able to be recognized by anyone else. (e.g. a teenager who keeps the bottle cap from the soda he was drinking when he had his first kiss)….

The individual may consciously or unconsciously try to affect that perception through symbolic artifacts. (e.g. a teenager who displays a poster of the latest hit band in his locker). These artifacts, for obvious reasons, tend to be social symbols which are recognized by all people of that social group.

Here is an annotated short story in the voice of an imagined teenager to illustrate how I have made distinctions amongst these terms. My apologies to the professor if this is not exactly what she had in mind…

I have a poster of my favorite singer because I really am a fan of music, and music is an important aspect of who I am. Having that poster reminds me of how much I like music (self image). I put the poster in my locker because I want to tell my friends a message about how much I like music, and in particular how much I like my favorite singer (self identity). But this backfired on me because my peers and cohorts think my favorite singer is (fill in the negative connotation here) “babyish” and now my classmates think I am definitely the same (social identity).

If we take the poster itself and consider it as just a, what I call, “syntactic medium” (quickly, this is something that can be used to carry a projected meaning or concept), we can see there are three different meanings depending on the point of view and situation (context).

In my private context (the dialog I have with myself) I am excited, enthused and my sense of self is re-energized when I see my poster.

In the hallway at school, my friends (cohort context) see the poster and are reminded that I really like the singer. They may not like them as much, but being my friends, they have received the message that this singer is important to me (that I enjoy them), and they may now be on the lookout for other souvenirs of that artist on my behalf.

But in the larger high school environment (community context), my poster has now caused some of the disdain my peers hold for the singer to have been transferred onto me. Oh well, at least my friends understand me…

What I like about this story is that it also illustrates how easily we humans can shift from one context to another seemlessly. In the span of three sentences, our teenager can express what that one symbol represents in three different contexts.

As a software developer, I can tell you how miraculous that talent of ours is, because software cannot do it! Software (at least as the world currently develops it) would necessarily only understand one of the three contexts.

Software as Semantic Choice

When I design a new software system, I have to choose what parts of reality matter enough to capture in the data (data is little bits of information stored symbollically and in great repetitive quantities). I can’t capture the entirety of reality symbollically, software is another example in life of having to divide an analog reality into discrete named chunks, choosing some and leaving others unmentioned.

This immediately sets the system up for future “failure” because at some point, other aspects of the same reality will become important. This is what in artificial intelligence is called “brittleness”. A quality which bedeviled the expert system movement and kept it from becoming a mainstream phenomenon. This is also a built in constraint on semantic web work, but I’ll leave that for another post.

Taking the example of quantum physics research as an example, there’d be no point in writing one application to capture both the speed and position of a quantum particle in a database, because as we all know, only one or the other data points is available to us to measure at one time. Thus we choose to capture the one that’s important to our study, and we ignore the other.

This is why a picture is worth a thousand words: because it is an analog of reality and captures details that can remain unnamed until needed at a future time.

This is also why we say that in communication we must “negotiate reality”. We must agree together (software developer and software user) what parts of reality matter, and how those parts are named, recognized, and interact.

In reading a recent thread on Library Science, it sounds like in the “indexing and abstracting” problem (used to set up a searchable space for finding relevant documents), a choice has to be made on what we think the searcher will most likely bring with him in order to find the information they seek. But by virtue of making one choice, we necessarily eliminate other choices we might have made which may have supported other seekers better.

This is an interesting parallel, and I must assume that I’ll find more as this dialog continues.

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