There is a unique nature to taxonomies, which is best described by Aristotle's Categories. In it, he says that after the "primary substance" follows the "secondary substances." We can think of the primary substance as being the kingdom and secondary substances as the genus or species. Secondary substances are more descriptive and specific than primary substances. Continuing, Aristotle states that, " For only they [secondary substances], of things predicated, reveal the primary substance." This means that if I were to pick out a species, let's say lions, then I can trace the species of lions up through the other 6 levels of the taxonomy tree until I reach the animal kingdom. This is the general case for other forms of categorizing.
Another example would be monsters and other disfigured or abnormal beings. The Platypus and the Mermaid by Harriet Ritvo delves into the more imaginative forms of classifications. Monsters seem like an odd entity to classify. In the cases of animals, foods, plants, and clothes, they seem to make sense and allow society to become more organized and functional. However, what is the point of classifying monsters? Why are we so engrossed in disfigured human beings and animals to the point of categorizing them as single monsters, dicephalous monsters, pyopagus monsters (Ritvo, p. 40)? Although the monster categorizing is referenced to the 18th and 19th century in Ritvo's work, this form of categorizing and fascination continues today. We categorize dwarf-sized people into cultural genre of its own, which resonates throughout reality TV shows and comedy. Another question that I would like to pose is if this form of categorizing abnormalities extends to the mentally abnormal people? If it exists, then how are these people categorized and how does it affect these people in terms of their health care or social treatment?
Additional reference: 1. Lee Sweetlove, “Number of species on Earth tagged at 8.7 million,” Nature, August 23rd, 2011, http://www.nature.com/news/2011/110823/full/news.2011.498.html.
The answer to your final question is an unqualified "yes," but we'll get to that in a few weeks.
ReplyDeleteI like to see a blog post (or a paper) come full circle, so I'm going to ask you this: if Planet Earth (which is indeed completely stunning) features "nature" in all of its glory, then what does it say about the filmmakers (or the viewers . . . or the funders) that it focuses only on the relatively ordinary, within certain bounds? We certainly have television shows focused on all manner of dysfunction and disability and deformation, but a Planet Earth that handled those sorts of things would be a completely different show, with probably a different narrator and overall tone. What accounts for this difference, not only in form and function but in what underlies the assumptions of a show like Planet Earth (and its sensationalizing compatriots)?
The Honey Badger comes to mind as I write that last question.