Knights, Tomatoes, and Defining a Final Vocabulary
Medieval Ages, Knights, and Their Coat of Arms
When I was very young, probably around the age of 9, I remember I was very interested in medieval times. From castles, to weaponry, to horses, to the Arthurian Legend, everything about it captured my mind, and I day dreamed about it for weeks at a time. Knights specifically fascinated my young mind, and I especially loved reading about their armour with all of its different parts.
In fact, in the morning before going to school, I always jumped out of bed excited to change out of my pajamas to my school clothes. To me, each piece of clothing represented a piece of armour. As I put on my tshirt, it became my chainmail, and as I put on a sweater it became my plate armour. As I added each layer, I felt as though each would prepare me for the day and any of the obstacles it threw my way.
One of the things that also fascinated me about knights was their coat of arms. Every noble family in the middle ages had a coat of arms, and on it there tended to be different symbols, insignia, and words which represented that family. One example is that of Richard I of England, or Richard the Lionheart, who was known for being a great military leader and warrior. On his coat of arms were 3 golden lions above an azure red shield, something which symbolized his courage.
Richard Rorty’s Final Vocabulary
In grade 12 I took a life-changing philosophy class, and one of the concepts that my teacher introduced was that of a “final vocabulary”, an idea introduced by the philosopher Richard Rorty in his book Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity. In it he suggests,
All human beings carry about a set of words which they employ to justify their actions, their beliefs, and their lives. These are the words in which we formulate praise of our friends and contempt for our enemies, our long-term projects, our deepest self-doubts and highest hopes. They are the words in which we tell, sometimes prospectively and sometimes retrospectively, the story of our lives. I shall call these words a person’s “final vocabulary.”
A final vocabulary then, is a set of terms used to define yourself; it creates a standard by which you can measure your behavior.
Going back to the coat of arms as an example, there may have been a set of words written across it: courage, honour, and chivalry. These words, in essence, were that family’s final vocabulary. The idea is at the end of each day, or even one’s life, people within the family would judge themselves by whether or not they’d lived according to that set of words, or values that they used to define themselves. At the end of day, a knight might ask himself, was I courageous and honorable today? He might look at moments where he lacked these traits, and vowed to change his ways. Similarly, in moments where he displayed these traits, he might have felt a sense of pride and joy in having lived up to that trait.
Something that I find incredibly interesting is that final vocabularies aren’t limited to centuries old family crests, but are also embedded in our culture and our religions. For example, within Christianity, as far back as 590 AD, Pope Gregory identified a sort of final vocabulary (and its counterpart): the seven heavenly virtues vs. the seven deadly sins.
The Loss and Importance of a Final Vocabulary: Tomatoes
In the past, all people tended to have a final vocabulary. However, my teacher suggested that it is something lost in the present day. However, this standard is one that we direly need. In losing our final vocabularies, we have also lost one of most important things that makes us stronger and allows us to excel.
When I was younger, I spent a lot of time with my family in our backyard. We found a lot of joy in spending time outdoors, and we spent a lot of time caring for our garden, watering the plants, and growing vegetables. One of the vegetables we loved to grow and eat were tomatoes.
In order to make sure that our tomatoes grew, we sometimes put barbeque skewers near to the tomato plant. What this did is it allowed the plant to grow in the direction that the barbeque skewer pointed: upward. In doing this, we more or less ensured that the plant would grow in the way we wanted. However, if the skewer wasn’t placed, it wouldn’t grow properly, and instead it would grow in all sorts of ways and directions. There was no standard for growth.
In many ways, this is a good analogy for having a final vocabulary. When we have a barbeque skewer in our lives (aka final vocabulary), we grow in the way that we want to. When these terms are ones chosen after very careful deliberation, then they have an especially immense power. These words allow us to envision a certain life and character for ourselves. On the other hand, if we don’t have a skewer present in our lives, we will wilt, and grow randomly. There is no measure, or standard by which to measure ourselves, and we will be directionless.
Barriers to Effectiveness: Semantic Shifts, Abstract Ideas vs. Concrete Actions
However, there are certain barriers that prevent us from growing even when we have defined a final vocabulary for ourselves. The barrier is semantic shifts. Semantic shifts are the inability to keep a word to a set definition so that the modern meaning of a word is radically different than the original usage. For example, the word “awful” originally meant inspiring wonder or fear, whereas contemporary usage has a negative connotation. In other words, words no longer have a definite meaning.
For example, in the medieval times, if a knight were to go into battle, he knew what it meant to be courageous. Courage was immediately associated with certain actions, and stories of people in his mind. Much like the difference between abstract words vs. concrete words, he knew courage meant action: (1) to fight means to risk your life, (2) go and fight anyway because others are counting on you.
In fact, a final vocabulary’s value lies not so much in the “calling” of yourself virtuous, but rather the ability act, and to remember that YOU acted. The virtue lies not in the label, but in the action. In that way, growth is intimately related to action.
Creating a Final Vocabulary of Your Own
And this point you might be wondering: “what should I do now with all this knowledge?” Consciously adopt a final vocabulary of your own. Here are a few useful principles to consider:
Choose adjectives, and not nouns: Your final vocabulary should consist of adjectives as opposed to values or nouns. For example: (1) strong vs. strength, (2) responsible vs. responsibility, (3) competent vs. competence. Why? Because you want these words to be something that describes YOU, your actions, and your character, rather than be an abstract concept as values such as responsibility often become.
Consider 3 or 4 adjectives max: I personally have 4 words in my final vocabulary, and I find that this works well. Any more than 4, and you may find it a struggle to consistently evaluate yourself against them
Make them actionable: Once you’ve decided upon an adjective, consider listing out specific actions that you can take in your personal life that would help you move towards being that specific trait.
Connect them to events, stories, and admirable lives: For example, something I find beautiful about the Catholic Church is that it has named exceptional people in its history as saints. These are people who lived virtuous, holy lives worthy of imitation, and contemplation. If forgetting a word’s meaning is easy, you can base them in reality by finding a saint, a character, or a story that resembles these traits. Consider even exploring archetypes.
LIVE them: This is something my philosophy teacher challenged my grade 12 class — a challenge which I now extend to you. If you’re up to the challenge, set your own final vocabulary. Carefully discern what these terms will be, and definitively decide to devote your life to manifesting these virtues. Carefully reflect at the end of each day about whether you’ve lived as you could have, and if you haven’t make steps to improve. Be brave and live.
