Without form, efficiency cannot emerge

Actually, the source quote for the title is “It is true that you can’t get from form to content, but it is also true that without form, content cannot emerge.” The quote is from Stanley Fish’s book, How to Write a Sentence. It’s not the thought that counts; it’s the form. Without form, the components of content are just items in a list. These items can be grouped and labeled (i.e., parts of speech); but, without form, they are just random items. Form provides the logical organization of relationships between the items in the list. With form, the items are no longer random. They become a sentence, from which meaning emerges. A “good” sentence is a sentence the meaning of which is framed in the proper context and aimed at a particular purpose. For some examples of “good” sentences, see this piece on Joan Didion.

Fish writes, “This, then, is my theology: You shall tie yourself to forms and the forms shall set you free.” The sustained practice of composing sentences according to form leads not to rigidity but naturalness. The form of a sentence “is bounded, and because it is bounded, it can be the generator of boundless meanings.” 

In the martial arts, the practice of form (or kata) is foundational. “By practicing in a repetitive manner, the learner develops the ability to execute those techniques and movements in a natural, reflex-like manner. Systematic practice does not mean permanently rigid. The goal is to internalize the movements and techniques of a kata so they can be executed and adapted under different circumstances, without thought or hesitation.” In the movie Karate Kid, the kid was told to polish cars, paint fences, and sand the floor. Though the kid thought he was just being used (abused?) to do chores around the house, he was actually gradually internalizing the formal movements that would later enable him to naturally, reflexively respond to competition or combat situations. From the forms that underlie polishing cars (“wax on, wax off”), painting fences, and sanding floors, meaningful sequenced actions emerge.

Form, of course, is also foundational in running. I’d noted this in a previous post, Butterfly effect in running. Without form, the components of running are also just random items in a list (e.g., speed, endurance, strength, flexibility, cadence, stride length, foot strike pattern, breathing, relaxation, posture). Form in running similarly provides the logical—perhaps, in this context, a better word is coordinating—organization of relationships between items. Running thus coordinated, its efficiency emerges. “Good” running is running of which the efficiency is attuned to the proper context, i.e., environment (roads, trails, etc.) and aimed at a particular purpose (e.g., intervals, hill repeats, tempo runs, LSD runs, races).

Without form, running efficiency cannot emerge.