CONTRECOURBE Propositions - Documentation - Recherches. Mail : contact@contrecourbe.eu

The notion of scale

We can see our separation from the world, and yet everything seems linked. In the world as continuity, is the individual a fiction, that of the particularization of the living ? Death is a separation, and we know that we are mortal. Opposition to others is another separation, and animals and plants know it too. But our knowledge shows us the interweaving of these phenomena, and death as a cycle. We have the idea of unity, but also the awareness of separation.

We have projected this separation and unity onto the universe. Since Aristotle, we've known that "the whole is more than the sum of its parts". Naming this whole, identifying these parts, seeing the whole in the parts and the parts in the whole - that's the question. The distinction itself must be questioned: the individual exists only as a part, and the whole is heterogeneous. These links are variable. The first notion is size. Some parts are larger than others, or even contain them. The notion of scale is a first step. Some physical laws are only valid within certain limits. Phenomena, models, are linked to the size of the observation. In our human world, no two elements are exactly alike. Are the atom and its regular components real, or just artifacts to flatter our systems mind? (1)

The natural sciences have developed from this idea of individual and gender. When Democritus (2) says that the universe is made up of atoms, he is extrapolating from the human community. It defines, with the atom, both a reduction and a unit of the world: it simultaneously assumes a discontinuity that does not prevent unity. Perhaps the valorization of the Greek warrior (the hoplite), whose strength lies in duality, has something to do with this.
The world would thus be a heterogeneous unity.
Dialectics allows the overcoming of contradictions. This idea would prove fruitful—up to Planck and Bohr—who, with quantum mechanics, discovered something that challenges these separations. Since then, all manner of theoretical artifices have been used in attempts to model what eludes us.

We must resist the structuralist temptation that dismisses naming as arbitrary (3). There is a connection between the model and reality, even if the latter remains mysterious. In this sense, disappointment borders on religion—which must necessarily be set aside in our view of nature. Mystery surrounds the universal, while we know only the particular; does that mean we should deny its existence?

Every observation takes place within a bounded space: there is larger, and there is smaller. Phenomena are observed according to their scale. We then move along this scale by decreasing or increasing proximity. Paul Ricoeur borrows from architecture this idea that “it is not the same sequences that are visible when one changes scale,” and that “one observes a level of information according to the level of organization.”

If we distinguish different sizes, we must also study the connections between these sizes. Are they continuous, do they cause elements to appear or disappear? These distinctions must take into account margins and their tolerances. Is this halo around a magnitude quantifiable? Qualifiable? What is its meaning? How does it cluster with its main pole? Is it significant, both in quantity and quality?

Finally, we will surpass dichotomies by using dialectics, in this case by simultaneously considering both aspects of a phenomenon. Duality is the first step toward otherness, which cannot be denied: it is after this that things begin—symmetry, complementarity, negation, superposition, synthesis, transcendence, integration… It is never equivalence; sometimes one must take responsibility for making a choice and record that choice. If the unity of the world is heterogeneous, it can nevertheless be ordered, but one must always keep in mind the artificiality of this order.
By following separation, we are forced to consider interactions: there can be regularity, coagulation, opposition, collaboration. We seek the structures that govern these interactions.
Scale is not only quantitative. Quantitative scales are useful because they can be hierarchized, which does not mean that a larger scale governs a smaller one. A scale also implies interfaces with other scales.
There are qualitative scales, which are not easily comparable. There is a scale of naming. In building architecture, for example, one can distinguish between strength (resistance to use) and size (towers, for instance).

Reality exists independently of our conception, but we know it only from that standpoint. It is therefore important to adjust our concepts to our experiences. This is already what science does, and it is what we continue to do here.

Descartes considers that science begins when we count. But counting presupposes considering a category. Categorization is thus the first link, without which there are only accidents. However, even singular phenomena can be related to a proximity, but it is the proximity of a category. Here we see the importance of form, studied in mathematics by Alexandre Grothendieck.
Considering a detail as significant already presupposes a view of the whole. One can question the proximity of this detail to a model and the precision of that model.

The obsession with collecting has often been labeled neurotic, especially when quantity replaces meaning, yet quantity is already a form of meaning. The question is not to stop there, as if caricaturing Pythagoras.

According to Engels, beyond a certain threshold, quantity becomes quality. This is an interpretation of Hegel and his categories. What is considered a trivial fact by some is a societal fact for others. In statistics, it is said that a population of 3,000 individuals is necessary to reveal common trends, but conversely, one can observe in an individual what belongs to the genus.

Biology apparently operates by leaps: just as individuals compete, so do species, and the separation between species is marked. This is not merely a mental construct. Generation is a discrete fact.

Biodiversity can only be studied by observing it at a certain scale. It then becomes clear that scales are not isomorphic, and a density that appears at one scale may no longer be so at another. The simplest approach is to count the species of the largest size, but smaller sizes can diverge profoundly. This does not mean that biodiversity is always balanced, compensating for one absence with another. This false isomorphism is a utopia of the Society of the Spectacle, which seeks to assure us that reality, whatever we do, is thriving.

The city, cradle of civilization, is a fertile ground for recognizing these divisions and entities. Who makes the city? What does the city do? Far from specialties such as urban planning, development, or technical services, important issues like civility or security cannot be resolved through a single particularity. One speaks of the social bond. How far does connection go, and how far does separation extend?

Socially, the main question is the distinction between the self and the other. Here too, the scale of what constitutes the entity determines its concept.

We must note the difference in treatment between care taken by an individual and care taken by a collective. This is where we see that the notion of scale is not merely quantitative. “Economies of scale” must be put into perspective, while at the same time serving as a useful introduction to this reflection. Economic analysis is relative but instructive. The theory of trickle-down, for example, describes a distribution of value that exists but must be contextualized. Likewise, the “free rider” concept—someone who individually benefits from a collective movement they did not produce—is equally revealing. The popular expression “biting the hand that feeds you” captures this idea perfectly.

In ecological matters, the majority can find itself as free riders. This marks a point of transcendence beyond the collective. Socially, there can be no autonomy without discipline.

Philosophically, the universal is found only through the individual, and Montaigne bows to truth and friendship. Following the Italian Renaissance, and later with Cartesian separation, the individual asserted itself in opposition to generality. This opposition was necessary during the period of capitalist expansion.

There exists a generic individual: a recurring question is whether a category possesses a life of its own, since a collective is not an organism. For a community to achieve autonomy, several conditions must be met. A family or a nation represents a will; the United States or the European Union represents a “will of will,” in a sense. The tendency of our civilization is to distance itself from any collective responsibility. The representation of the collective itself has often drifted, usually for convenience, away from the meaning of that collective.

Everyone has something to contribute, but there is only one Montaigne. Existential inequality is glaring, which does not mean it should be accepted; yet to deny it is another folly, akin to contemporary infantilism that delights in destruction. Equality is theoretical and must form the basis of all theory. In practice, one must recognize and value excellence and help individuals move in that direction. This is the true democratic approach, opposed to the demagogy of glorifying mediocrity. Merit, though difficult to evaluate, remains the only possibility for a republic. Here too, the question of numbers is decisive, and the answer will differ depending on the number of citizens: it has been said that democracy only suits a limited city, like Athens.

We see the human difficulty in this awareness of the collective in the maintenance of common goods: do they belong to no one? Does everyone ignore them? Who takes care of them? Who is willing to pay? Examples of cooperatives, unions, and mutual societies are well known; they are easily criticized, and their benefits are less often seen. Is the presence of an active minority or of committed activists always necessary, and compatible with the collective consciousness of the common good?

Is it quantity that transforms the individual into a species? Or could we rather say that the individual cannot exist if it is alone? Both the genus and the individual are abstractions that overlap a single reality.

We can distinguish between common goods, public or social, but in reality, these are goods that belong to multiple people. Generally, they cannot be individual, though there are exceptions and cases where individual goods are pooled for better management—for example, insurance. The management of these goods is the critical point to evaluate. Even controlling this management often leaves much to be desired (and indeed, it is tedious). Volunteers are often the only ones involved. The question of how the individual can oversee the commons remains open. Who wants to take care of the commons? The first solution is to aggregate it: meetings, councils, voting regulations, and breaking decisions into multiple aspects…

The representation of the collective must stay in touch with reality: seeing what one sees is difficult, and oligarchies only see numbers (those who see “the unemployment curve” do not see the unemployed). Individual experience must be reintegrated into statistics. When reality appears only through numbers, it drifts away.

Interesting cases include the United States, Swiss federalism, and Europe, the homeland of particularisms: “E Pluribus Unum.” The idea of “too big to fail” is very human, and rather foolish. While size has advantages, it quickly reaches limits and reversals. It is normal that leaders seek expansion—it is the expansion of their power.

What about the human scale? Is humanism anthropocentrism? Can one really adopt a viewpoint other than one’s own, for example, an anti-speciesist perspective? These are the limits of imagination and the great flexibility of the intellect. Is the human scale simply a dimension of relevance?
There is a global perception, a “gestalt,” which can be imagined as the distant view of a nearsighted person. The whole appears coarse when the details are not visible; however, this form is no truer than a more detailed form—it corresponds to a scale. It can be likened to the “Maya” of Hindu reality.
Life connects different dimensions, which is why it is important that human actions remain limited to a certain scale: measurement above all. While man may speculate about the totality, he can act only on a detail.

"True progress was made when doubt became 'examiner'; when objective rules, in other words, were gradually elaborated that, between falsehood and truth, allow for a sorting." — Marc Bloch, Apologie, p. 49
With Descartes and quantification, natural philosophy became scientific: intellectualization no longer aimed to take qualities, sizes, and limits into account. This marks the beginning of modern idealism. Essence, which for the Greeks was defined by its limits, becomes an interiority that must struggle to extend those limits, thereby justifying colonial expansion and progress. Descartes and science thus came to be used by the spirit of conquest, which they had previously separated from reality. We drift away from the right proportion—the ideal of the honnête homme, which would still persist for a time. The “sense of measure” has been lost. Science begins when we count. One must measure time, volumes, proximities, distances, and examine their proportionalities across different scales.
Size may seem to provide a hierarchy; yet even in living organisms, this is not the case, and in human affairs, even less so. The relationship between scales is therefore more one of complementarity than of priority. Priority is established on a case-by-case basis, depending on context. There is always an exterior, and at every scale.

Jean-Marc Jancovici rightly emphasizes the importance of the notion of orders of magnitude in conceptual thinking. It is striking to observe contemporary blindness to these orders of magnitude. The tree hides the forest, and the Spectacle stops at trivial news.




(1) In our experiences, some are directly accessible to everyone, while others require reliance on tools. This second scale presents particular risks: dependence on necessarily incomplete methodological instruments, giving rise to doubts among the population.



(2) The materialist Abderites vs. the idealist Eleatics



(3) The nominalists, in the debate on universals, claim that language shapes reality.