Are words more than their symbols?
Yes, I assume others can read what I write. Yes, I hope to convey what I’m thinking to others. But sometimes they don’t understand the words in the same way. We quibble about what a word means, for example. Why is that?
The reasons our understanding of a word rarely aligns is because
I meaning something is not the same as
the words meaning something. I am conveying meaning; you are conveying meaning; the words are not.
People and words are two entirely different types of beings. One has power, conveys meaning, thinks, speaks, writes, reads—the other is just the fleeting echoes of this being and His activity. In the case of the spoken word, the words dissipate with the sound wave. Text lingers much longer, as much as any other mark on that medium, but it has not been shown to be endowed with some invisible and magical property called “meaning”. Your inconsistent wavering between the two beings as the conveyor of meaning may satisfy your own understanding, but I cannot get past it. I start to trip up on your words the moment I see them. Maybe to you it comes naturally. My assertions appear to you nonsense, perhaps rightfully so. But in every single case not a single ounce of meaning has jumped from me to you or vice versa, and our disagreements, misunderstandings, fallacies etc. are only further evidence of this.
You are reading the words. You follow the sentences with your eyes, left to right, top to bottom, according to your understanding, and endow them with your own meaning and at your own leisure. They are not doing anything to you. You are doing things to them. And the idea that meaning exists between or external to the beings who
mean is fatuous piffle.