#knowing how

  ... said a large manufacturer to me, “without ing proof of it in the island of Sikok, in the form of a Spices of the                         [East                                       work ] ... and after puttering at it for an hour sent for a interesting information about the areca nut, which machinist. [He bothered with it half a day....

—

You’ve been raising things--people--since before you could talk. Nearly scared your father into an early grave. He’s a Mundane; there’s nothing out of the ordinary in his family tree.

Then there’s your mother. Fellow Necromancer, with a slew of Supernaturals in her own tree. Nothing mundane about her.

So yeah, you’ve got the bringing people up and making them dance thing down pat. It’s the putting living things down bit you’re having some trouble with.

That could be because it’s hard to use that kill switch on the too-thin strays that make their way into your yard.

It could also have something to do with the two Banshees next door. You don’t know if they wail at the deaths of small animals, and you’re not sure you really want to find out.

“Oh my god, Luke. Just do the thing.”

You narrow your eyes at Maija, but only for a second. Your focus goes straight back to the rabbit. “It’s hard.”

She rolls her eyes, pushing your arm hard enough to make you sway, but not so you fall over. “Why’s it hard? Your mom can do it.”

“Yeah, and she’s got like, twenty years of experience with this.”

“Well.”Maija huffs, staring at the rabbit intensely, as if she could kill it like you should be able to. “How’d she explain it?”

“It’s kinda like a light switch,” you start. “Everything--everyone--has it, and right now it’s on. I turn it on whenever I bring someone else around, like when I brought President Lincoln up last week. Now I should be turning it off.”

The girl’s head cocks curiously. “Don’t you do that whenever you send them back?”

“Yeah, but it’s different. ‘Sides, I need Mom’s help with that sometimes.”

She huffs again. “Why’s it so important for you to know this anyway? Why’s your mom want you to be able to kill people?”

You bite your lower lip, looking between your friend and your house--where you know your mom is watching through a window. “Promise you won’t freak out?”

Maija gives you a look. “Luke, I’m a Banshee. From a family of Banshees that have lived by Necromancers forever. You’re not gonna freak me out.”

She’s got a point, you suppose. “It’s already a thing I can do--all Necromancers can. Take life, give life, make the ‘circle of life’ less of a circle. But we’re not born knowing how to control it. We need to learn so we don’t accidentally flick someone’s switch off.”

Her eyes go wide, and she gets really quiet for a few seconds. “So if--if we got into a fight, you could kill me?”

You nod somberly. “So I need to learn it, and learn it fast. I don’t wanna kill anyone--not even that jerk at recess. If that means some rabbits and strays have to go . . . It could be worse, right?”

It was a rather large thing to adapt to, seeing only from one eye. She was more vulnerable now, with even more people around that were potential threats.

Leaving her little town as it was getting dark was probably not such a good idea. As if being blind in just the one eye wasn’t enough, she could barely see out of her good eye when it was dark. She ended up in her sort of destination by pure miracle.

It took her months to adapt even a little to her lousy depth perception—she constantly misjudged the distance between herself and different things and was caught attempting to steal quite a few times before she figured it out.

For a while it was next to impossible for her to track motion, though it’s always been worse with distance. Eventually she got better at it, but still to this day, if she’s tired or for any reason not completely focused on the task at hand she can’t track it well.

In her good eye, color vision was significantly changed. While she could still tell the difference between some colors, for the most part she was colorblind.

“It’s like taking half my sight wasn’t enough for her. She had to take away practically everything.” She fell back on her makeshift bed and looked over at Desina. “Why’re you here? I mean, I don’t have much of a choice. It was either live with being blind in one eye on the streets or die in my own house with people that don’t actually give a damn. What’s your story?”

Desina shrugged, rolling onto her side and propping up on her elbow. “I just got tired of living at home. My parents were stifling and I just couldn’t deal with it. My story is boring and rather petty compared to yours, Ren.” The girl was several years older than Eiren—thirteen in comparison to her own nine—though sometimes her maturity made her seem quite a bit younger.

Every day presented some new struggle with what sight she had left, but each and every one brought her closer to knowing how to deal with only seeing out of the one eye.

“Wouldn’t it just be easier to take the bad eye out? Otherwise it’s kind of misleading.”

“Desina, I swear to the gods if you touch my eye I’m going to kill you.”

Chloe looked up from the file she had been reading and reached for her phone.

“Jaz,” she said as she answered the call. “Or should I say Jezebel?”

“Very funny,” Jaz replied. “How are you? Or better, where were you? I’ve been trying to call you all day?”

“I’ve been out and about,” Chloe said.

“Out and about?”

“Yes,” Chloe said. “I went to this assembly of Syrian expats.” She knew that Jaz would not be interested in the slightest. “I told you about it yesterday,” Chloe said with mocked outrage. “But that was when you had more important things on your mind.”

“Very funny,” Jaz said. She was quiet for a second. “What do you think of him? Did you like him?”

“What do I think?” Chloe laughed. “He seemed very nice. But how on earth am I supposed to judge him from a couple of hours across the dinner table? It’s for you to make your bloody mind up.”

Jaz mumbled something unintelligible.

Epistemology is the philosophy of knowledge, and an interesting distinction in epistemology is "Knowing How" vs "Knowing That".

The sense of "knowing" used in common language really only covers one of these - "Knowing That".  So things like knowing where you left your keys, knowing the phylogenetic tree, knowing how to define "epistemology"... all these are examples of "Knowing That".

In a way, "Knowing How" is much more common, but much less talked about.  For example, I know how to type.  How to chew.  How to ride a bike.  I don't learn how to do these things (generally) by memorizing facts... imagine trying to ride a bicycle with a perfect academic knowledge of the machine, but no experience riding.

"Knowledge How" and "Knowledge That" are gained in different ways:

"Knowledge That" can be gained from a book.  Reading, or maybe attending lectures might be ways to gain this sort of information.  Preserving and perfecting it just amounts to preserving and perfecting your recall of the facts.

"Knowledge How" is different.  It can be taught only by example, and is learned by doing.

The bulk of my learning to type was not memorizing key positions, but rather teaching my fingers how to act.  Having learned, I couldn't transcribe my typing skill into a book... it exists as predispositions in my finger muscles, and likely connections within my brain that would be fairly meaningless outside the context of typing.

I think this is a good distinction, but it has a fuzzy border.  In fact, I think it's one of the great achievements of human intellect that "Knowledge That" can be used to reach further and further into the realm of "Knowledge How".

"Stop, Drop and Roll!"  Every time somebody actually acts on this fire-safety mantra, they are leveraging their purely academic "Knowledge That" into a "Knowing How" situation.  It would be - er - impractical to practice extinguishing fires on your own body and thus "learning how".  Our only other option is learning by the book what to do in a dangerous situation... and it works!

Personally, I know there is no replacement for experience, but I enjoy the challenge of preparing as thoroughly as I can for "Doing" by "Knowing".  And as a parent, I enjoy teaching my kids by the same methods.  I feel that all really effective teaching is an attempt to extend "Knowledge That" into the realm of "Knowledge How".

For example, I can't make my 3-year old daughter strong and capable by explaining things to her.  But I can say to her (when she wants to carry a heavy milk-carton) "Hug the weight close to your body - the closer it is to you, the easier it will be to control".  I can't teach my son to swim by talking to him, but I can say "If you slip and end up under water, don't panic, and don't try to yell or to breath - just hold your breath and try to get your balance, and don't worry, I am watching out for you." Etc.