Posts Tagged ‘ knowledge ’

Forms of Knowledge, Ways of Knowing

The principle premise of Cook & Brown’s “Bridging Epistemologies” is that there are two separate yet complimentary epistemologies tied up in the concept of knowledge.  The first one of these is found in the traditional definition of knowledge, which describes knowledge as something people possess—that is, a property (in more than one sense of the word) that is.  Cook & Brown refer to this as the “epistemology of possession”, and it can be characterized as the “body” of knowledge.  The second, “epistemology of practice” hones in on the act of knowing found in individual and group activities—it is the capacity of doing.  Cook & Brown contend that the interplay between these two distinct forms is how we generate new knowledge, in a manner not unlike Nonaka’s spiral structure of knowledge creation (with one key difference, described below), which they call the “generative dance”.

Another way I conceptualized this distinction (using analogy, as Nonaka urges, to resolve contradiction and generate explicit knowledge from tacit knowledge, (21)) was to consider these two notions of “knowledge”/”knowing” from a linguistic perspective: if knowledge and knowing were distinct properties of the English sentence, knowing would be the verb and knowledge the object.  This is supported by Cook & Brown’s emphasis on how “knowledge” can be applied in practice as a tool to complete the task, and can result from the act of knowing (388); “knowing” acts upon (and through) “knowledge”, just as the verb acts upon (or through) the object.  The subject—that is, the person or people who are performing the action—is an essential element both to the formulation of knowledge/knowing and to the sentence.  The subject’s relationship to the verb and the object is very similar to the individual (or group’s) relationship to knowing and knowledge.  The verb represents enaction by the subject—as knowing does—and the object represents that which is employed, derived or otherwise affected by this enaction—as knowledge is.  Cook & Brown’s principle of “productive inquiry” and the interaction between knowledge and knowing, then, can be represented by the structure of the sentence.

Cook & Brown’s premise has many important implications for knowledge management.  Perhaps the most important of these is the idea that knowledge is abstract, static and required for action (that is, “knowing”) in whatever form it takes, while knowing is dynamic, concrete and related to forms of knowledge.  Of these characteristics, the most dramatic must be the static nature of knowledge; in what is Cook & Brown’s most significant break with Nonaka, they state that knowledge does not change or transform.  The only way for new knowledge to be created from old knowledge is for it to be applied in practice (i.e. “productive inquiry”).  Nonaka perceives knowledge as something malleable, that can transform from tacit to explicit and back again, while Cook & Brown unequivocally state that knowledge of one form remains in that form (382, 387, 393, 394-95).  For Cook & Brown, each form of knowledge (explicit, tacit, individual and group) performs a unique function (382).  The appropriate application of one form of knowledge in the practice (the act of knowing) can, however, give rise to knowledge in another (393).

I found Blair’s article “Knowledge Management: Hype, Hope or Help?” useful as a supplement to Cook & Brown.  Blair makes several insightful points about knowledge and knowledge management, such as the application of Wittgenstein’s theory of meaning as use in defining “knowledge”, identifying abilities, skills, experience and expertise as the human aspect of knowledge, and raising the problem of intellectual property in KM practice.  Blair’s most valuable contribution, however, is to emphasize the distinction between the two types of tacit knowledge.  This is a point Cook & Brown (and Nonaka) fail to make in their theory-sweeping models.  It is also a point I have struggled with in my readings of Cook & Brown and Nonaka.  Tacit knowledge can be either potentially expressible or not expressible (Blair, 1025).  An example of tacit knowledge that is “potentially expressible” would be heuristics—the “trial-and-error” lessons learned by experts.  Certainly in my own experience, this has been a form of tacit knowledge that can be gleaned in speaking with experts and formally expressed to educate novices (generating “explicit knowledge” through the use of “tacit knowledge”).  An example of inexpressible tacit knowledge would be the “feel” of the flute at different levels of its construction described in Cook & Brown’s example of the flutemakers’ study (395-96); this is knowledge that can only be acquired with experience, and no amount of discussion with experts, of metaphor and analogy, will yield a sufficient understanding of what it entails.  It is an essential distinction to make, since as knowledge workers we must be able to determine how knowledge is and should be expressed.


Cited References

Blair, D. (2002). Knowledge management: Hype, hope, or help? Journal of the American Society for Information Science and Technology 53(12), 1019-1028.

Cook, S. D. N., and Brown, J. S. (1999). Bridging Epistemologies: The Generative Dance between Organizational Knowledge and Organizational Knowing, Organization Science 10(4), 381-400.

Nonaka, I. (1994). A Dynamic Theory of Organizational Knowledge Creation. Organization Science 5(1), 5-37.


Shapiro’s Shakespeare and the “Generative Dance” of his Research

Perhaps the most interesting thing about James Shapiro’s A Year in the Life of Shakespeare is the kind of scholarship that it represents.  Drawing upon dozens—likely hundreds—of sources, Shapiro presents a credible depiction of Shakespeare’s life in 1599.  Rather than limiting himself to sources that are exclusively about Shakespeare or his plays, Shapiro gathers a mountain of data about Elizabethan England.  He consults collections of public records that shed light either on Shakespeare’s own life or the life of his contemporaries, not just to identify the historical inspiration and significance of his plays, but to give us an idea of what living in London as a playwright in 1599 would have been all about.  This, to me, is a fascinating use of documentary evidence that few have successfully undertaken.

Before I go on, I should note that I’m currently working on a directed study in which I am being thoroughly steeped in the objects and principles of knowledge management.  It is in light of this particular theoretical context that I read Shapiro and think, “he’s really on to something here.”   In their seminal article “Bridging Epistemologies: The Generative Dance Between Organizational Knowledge and Organizational Knowing”, Cook & Brown present a framework in which “knowledge”—the body of skills, abilities, expertise, information, understanding, comprehension and wisdom that we possess—and “knowing”—the act of applying knowledge in practice—interact to generate new knowledge.  Drawing upon Michael Polanyi’s distinction between tacit and explicit knowledge, Cook & Brown present a set of distinct forms of knowledge—tacit, explicit, individual and group.  They then advance the notion of “productive inquiry”, in which these different forms of knowledge can be employed as tools in an activity—such as riding a bicycle, or writing a book about an Elizabethan dramatist—to generate new knowledge, in forms that perhaps were not possessed before.  It is the interaction between knowledge and knowing that produces new knowledge, that represent a “generative dance”.

Let’s return for a moment to Polanyi’s tacit and explicit knowledge.  The sources Shapiro is working with are, by their nature, explicit, since he is working with documents.  The book itself is explicit, since it too is a document, and the knowledge it contains is fully and formally expressed.  The activity of taking documentary evidence from multiple sources, interpreting each piece of evidence in the context of the other sources, and finally synthesizing all of it into a book, represents more epistemic work than is represented than in either the book or the sources by themselves.  The activity itself is what Cook & Brown describe as “knowing”, or the “epistemology of practice”.  The notions of recognizing context and of interpretation, however, suggest that there’s even more going on here than meets the eye.  In this activity, Shapiro is merging these disparate bits of explicit knowledge to develop a hologram of Shakespeare’s 1599.  This hologram is tacit—it is an image he holds in his mind that grows more and more sophisticated the more historical relational evidence he finds.  Not all of the patterns and connections he uncovers are even expressible until he begins the synthesis, the act of writing his book.  Throughout this process, then, new knowledge is constantly being created—both tacit and explicit.

Let’s also consider for a moment Cook & Brown’s “individual” and “group” knowledge.  Shapiro’s mental hologram can be safely classified as individual knowledge.  And each piece of evidence from a single source is also individual knowledge (though, certainly, some of Shapiro’s sources might represent popular stories or widely known facts, and thus group knowledge).  The nature of Shapiro’s work, however, the collective merging of disparate sources, problematizes the individual/group distinction.  What arises from his scholarship is neither group knowledge (i.e. knowledge shared among a group of people) or individual knowledge (i.e. knowledge possessed by an individual), but some sort of hybrid that is not so easily understood.

From a digital humanist perspective, we can think of Shapiro’s scholarship (and have) as a relational database.  All of the data and the documentary evidence gets plugged into the database, and connections no one even realized existed are then discovered.  We might have many people adding data to the database, sharing bits of personal knowledge.  And everyone with access to the database can potentially discover new connections and patterns, and in doing so create new knowledge.  Would such a collective be considered group knowledge?  Would individual discoveries be individual knowledge?  Would the perception of connections be tacit or explicit?  It is not altogether clear because there are interactions occurring at a meta-level, interactions between data, interactions between sources, interactions between users/readers and the sources and the patterns of interacting sources.  What is clear is that this interactive “dance” is constantly generating additional context, new forms of knowledge, new ways of knowing.


Cook, S. D. N., and Brown, J. S. (1999). Bridging Epistemologies: The Generative Dance between Organizational Knowledge and Organizational Knowing, Organization Science 10(4), 381-400.

Shapiro, J. (2006).  A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare: 1599.  New York: Harper Perrennial.  394p.