One is about the 'map of the cat', where Feynman had to give a talk to his graduate zoology class. In preparation, he went to the library and asked for a map of the cat, to which the librarian responded "You mean a zoological chart!" (I'm guessing 'what a funny thing to say') Then later when he presents this, his fellow bio students say "We know all that!". Feynman says that they "had wasted all their time memorizing stuff like that, when it could be looked up in fifteen minutes."
The other story is much earlier in his life. All the (nerdy) kids on the playground try to one up each other on what their dad's taught them. "What do you call that bird? What about that bird?". But Feynman's dad said something like it's called X in language Y, Z in language W.
You can know the name of that bird in all the languages of the world, but when you’re finished, you’ll know absolutely nothing whatever about the bird. You’ll only know about humans in different places, and what they call the bird. So let’s look at the bird and see what it’s doing—that’s what counts.” (I learned very early the difference between knowing the name of something and knowing something.)
What is the point about these parables? He goes on to explain that names don't explain anything. He explains that these technical terms for anatomy or for bird varieties or for whatever science are just terms, they're not explanation themselves. There is a tendency even for these technical terms to be magical invocations, the totems of a closed guild, supplications to the gods, when these terms are barely paratactic gestures of pointing, a superficial 'behold', an inarticulate label with no explanation of the depth of the experience. "What kind of bird is that?" "It's a sparrow" "Why does it do that?" "It's a sparrow." as though emphasis is explanation enough.
Except... what do you expect? Is naming so terrible? Do you want to do away with naming and simple move on to the much more interesting explanation? Is naming so simpleminded?
Where did the names come from? Without this being an explanation of historical linguistics, presuming terms like gastrocnemus, sparrow, and inertia are somewhat random and distinct, these labels are hooks for the concepts. A lot of thought, using other labels or conceptual manipulation, led one to label this object or concept one thing, that another. If our thoughts are not necessarily tied to language, communicating them certainly is (though a gesture or picture can go a long way, like a shrinking ring in ice water).
Names and words are little theories in themselves. We learn most of them superficially, but eventually we acquire their nuances. A new word, like inertia, is opaque to the newcomer, but at some point in time, the scientist or experimenter was playing with a number of concepts, and eventually some concepts coalesced out of that thinking and one of them was given the label 'inertia'.
Yes, knowing a name doesn't explain anything. Or rather, it explains very little. Knowing how to use a name is nontrivial, but has little explanation to it. Answering why requires being able to manipulate a number of names, but having those names is necessary. 'Black hole' is the culmination of a lot of thought. That it is a thing is the consequence of lots of thinking. And the start of a lot of thinking. Once you get to that concept, a lot of thought has gone on and not having that term would be a great loss, leaving us to swim around a number of concepts of relativity but don't quite say what they really mean. Feynman is saying that it is dumb to stop at the names of things. Sure, don't stop. But don't let that stop you from naming things because it'll be that much harder to continue without the name.
A name is itself the end product of a theory, and it makes further theories possible.
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