Silo, The Human Landscape

The Human Landscape

I. Looks and Landscapes
1. Let us speak of landscapes and looks, turning once again to what was said in the beginning: “External landscape is what we perceive of things, while internal landscape is what we sift from them through the sieve of our internal world. These landscapes are one and constitute our indissoluble vision of reality.”
2. Beginning with the perception of an external object, a naive look may confuse “what is seen” with reality itself. Some go further, believing that they remember “reality” just as it was. And still others confuse objects they have perceived and then transformed in other states of consciousness (their illusions, hallucinations, or dream images) with material objects.
3. It is not difficult for reasonable people to understand that objects perceived in an earlier moment can appear distorted in dreams and memories. But the simplicity of daily action, of doing with and among things, is shaken to its core by the idea that perceived objects are always covered by a multicolored mantle woven of other, simultaneous perceptions and memories; that perception is an overall mode of being-in-the-midst-of-things, and includes an emotional tone and the general state of one’s body.
4. The naive look grasps the “external” world along with its own pain or its own joy. I do not look with my eyes alone, but also with my heart, with gentle recollection, with ominous suspicion, with cold calculation, with stealthy comparison. I look through allegories, signs, and symbols, and though I do not see these things in my looking, they act on it nonetheless, just as when I look I do not see my eye or its activity.
5. Because of the complexity of perceiving, I prefer to use the word landscape rather than object when speaking of reality, whether external or internal. And with that, I take it as given that I am referring to complexes and structures, and not to objects in some isolated and abstract individuality.
I want to emphasize, too, that these landscapes correspond to acts of perception that I call looks (encroaching, perhaps illegitimately, on fields unrelated to visualization). These looks are active and complex acts that organize landscapes. They are not simple passive acts of receiving external information (data that arrive through my external senses) or internal information (that is, sensations from my own body, memories, apperceptions).
There should be no need to add that in these mutual interrelations between looks and landscapes, the distinction between internal and external is drawn on the basis of the direction of the intentionality of the consciousness—and not as is frequently set forth in the naive schemata that are presented to schoolchildren.
6. If you have understood the foregoing, you will also understand that when I speak of the human landscape I am referring to a type of external landscape that is composed of people and—even on those occasions when the human being per se is absent—human acts and intentions made manifest in objects.
7. It is important, then, to distinguish between the internal world and internal landscape, between nature and external landscape, between society and human landscape. What I am trying to emphasize is that to speak of landscapes always implies one who looks, as opposed to situations in which the internal (psychological) world, nature, or society are naively taken as existing in themselves, independent of any interpretation.

II. The External Look and That Which 
Is Human
1. Nothing substantial is being said when we are told that “Human beings are constituted by their environment.” Nor when it is said that “thanks to the environment (environment being understood by some as natural, by others as social, and by still others as both natural and social) the human being is constituted.” This idea appears all the more inconsistent when we focus on the relationship implied by the word “constituted”—assuming, of course, that we already understand the terms “human being” and “environment.” Presumably, “environment” is that which surrounds the human being, or better, that in which the human being is immersed, and the “human being” is that which is within or immersed in that “environment.”
We find ourselves, then, as at the beginning, in a circle of vacuities. Though the two terms being related point to separate entities, we can observe an intention to unite them in a deceptive relationship through the use of the word “constitute”—a word that has implications of genesis, that is to say, of explaining something by means of its origins.
2. This assertion would be of no particular interest were it not for the fact that it is presented as a paradigm of similar assertions that for millennia have offered an image of the human being as seen from the outside. That is, looking at the human being from the standpoint of things and not from the standpoint of the look that looks at things. To say “the human being is a social animal” or “man is made in the image of God” is to make society or God into the entity that looks at the human being, while in reality it is only from the human look that society and God are conceived, and accepted or denied.
3. And so, in a world where an inhuman look has long been established, there have also been established behaviors and institutions that annihilate our humanity. So it was that one of the questions that arose in the observation of nature concerned the “nature” of the human being, and the responses that were given were like those that might be given about any natural object.
4. Even those currents of thought that have presented the human being as subject to continuing transformation have considered what is human from within one of the several perspectives of historical naturalism—that is, from an external look.
5. The underlying idea of “human nature” corresponds to an external look directed at that which is human. But human beings are historical beings whose mode of social action transforms their own nature. Knowing this subordinates the concept of “human nature” to existence and its tasks—making it subject to the transformations and revelations directed by this existence. Thus, the body, as the prosthesis of intention, extends its potentialities through humanizing the world—a world that can no longer be seen as simple externality but instead as a landscape, natural or human, that is subject to present or possible transformations. And it is through this activity that the human being also transforms itself.

III. The Human Body as the 
Object of Intention
1. The body, as a natural object, is subject to natural modifications, and thanks to human intention is, of course, susceptible to transformation—not only in its most external expressions but also in its innermost functioning. One’s own body takes on its greatest significance when viewed in this way—as the prosthesis of intention. However, a social process intervenes between the immediate (unmediated) governance of one’s own body and the adaptation of the body to the needs and purposes of others. This process does not depend on the isolated individual but entails others as well.
2. Ownership of my psychophysical structure is given by my intentionality, while external objects present themselves to me as only indirectly subject to my control (through the action of my body) and outside of my immediate ownership. There is a particular type of object, however, that I intuit as the property of a foreign intention, and that is the body of the other. That otherness puts me in the position of being “seen from outside,” seen from someone else’s intention. My vision of the other is, therefore, an interpretation—a landscape extending to every object that carries the mark of human intention, whether produced or used today or in the past.
In that human landscape I can obliterate the intention of others by considering them prostheses of my own body, in which case I must “empty” them of their subjectivity, at least in those areas of thought, feeling, or action that I wish to control directly. But this objectification of others necessarily dehumanizes me as well, and so I justify this situation by claiming that it is the consequence of “Passion,” “God,” “A Cause,” “Natural Inequity,” “Fate,” “Society,” and so forth.

IV. Memory and the Human Landscape
1. When faced with an unfamiliar landscape, I appeal to my memory and notice as “new” that which I “recognize” as absent in myself. The same thing occurs in a human landscape, where today’s language, clothing, and customs contrast sharply with that landscape in which my memories were formed. In a society where change is slow, however, my previous landscape tends to overwhelm these novel aspects, and I dismiss them as “irrelevant.”
2. If I live in a society in which change occurs very swiftly, I tend not to recognize the value of change or to consider it “superficial,” without realizing that the inner loss I experience is the loss of that social landscape in which my memory was formed.
3. Thanks to all of this I understand that when a generation comes to power, it tends to give external expression to the myths and theories, the desires, appetites, and values of its formative landscapes—landscapes that no longer exist yet still live and act in the social memory of the landscape in which this group was formed. It also happens that the landscape that children assimilate as the human landscape is seen by their parents as “irrelevant” or a “diversion.”
However fiercely the generations may struggle between themselves, when a new generation comes to power it immediately becomes obstructionist, attempting to impose its own landscape of formation on a human landscape that has already changed—and which that generation itself may even have helped to change. Thus, in those transformations instituted by the group that is in power there are, dragged along from its formative years, the obstructions against which the newer group that is forming will clash.
When I have spoken of the “power” that a generation acquires, I trust that I have been correctly understood as referring to power in all its forms: political, social, cultural, and so forth.

V. The Distance Imposed by the 
Human Landscape
1. Every generation has its own particular cunning and will not hesitate to institute the most sophisticated of “reforms” if it can thereby increase its power. But this leads to countless difficulties as the transformations each generation sets in motion drag society toward a future that, in the present dynamic, is already in contradiction with the inner social landscape that it strives to maintain. This is why I say that every generation has not only its own particular cunning but also its own particular trap.
2. Which human landscape do these unwarranted longings confront? To begin with, it is a perceived human landscape that is different from the landscape that is remembered. It is also a human landscape that does not correspond to the emotional tone, the general emotional climate of our memories of people, buildings, streets, occupations, and institutions. And it is this “strangeness” or “estrangement” that most clearly shows that, even when we are dealing with everyday or familiar matters, every perceived landscape is a distinct and all-encompassing reality different from the one remembered. So it is that one’s appetites, which have for so long yearned to possess certain objects (things, persons, situations), are disappointed in their fulfillment. And this is the distance that the dynamic of the human landscape imposes upon every memory, whether individual or collective, whether held by one, by many, or by an entire generation whose members coexist in a single social space, surrounded by a similar emotional background. How much greater becomes the distance, then, when different generations—representatives of distinct times coexisting within a single space—try to reach agreement about something! And if it seems that we are speaking of enemies, I must stress that these gulfs open even between those who would appear to share similar interests.
3. Never do I touch the same object twice in the same way, nor feel the same intention twice. And that which I believe I perceive as intention in others is only a distance, which I interpret differently each time. Thus, the human landscape, whose distinguishing characteristic is intention, throws into sharp relief the estrangement that many have thought a result of the objective conditions of a society devoid of solidarity, a society that casts the dispossessed consciousness into exile. Having erred in their appraisal of the essence of human intention, they found that as the human landscape accelerated, the society they had built with such effort was divided by generational chasms and had become estranged from itself. Other societies, developing along different paths, suffered precisely the same shock—all of which by now has demonstrated that the fundamental problems of the human being can be resolved only by focusing on the intention that transcends objects, the intention for which the social object is simply the dwelling. In the same way, all of nature, including the human body, should be understood as the dwelling of the transformative intention.
4. The perception of the human landscape brings me face to face with myself—it is an emotional engagement, a thing that negates me or propels me forward. Even as I continue to accumulate memories, I am drawn forward from my “today” by future intention. This future, which conditions the present; this image; this feeling, confused or desired; this action, freely chosen or imposed, also marks my past, because it changes what I consider to have been my past.

VI. Education
1. In the first place, the perception of and action of the external landscape involves the body and an emotional way of being-in-the-world. Of course, as I have previously mentioned, it also commits one to a particular vision of reality. That is why I believe that to educate is fundamentally to prepare the new generations to exercise a non-naive vision of reality, so that their look takes the world into account not as some supposed objective reality-in-itself but rather as the object of transformative human actions.
I am speaking here not of information about the world but rather of the intellectual exercise of a particular unbiased vision of landscapes and of an attentive practice turned to one’s own look. A basic education should bear in mind the practice of coherent thinking. In this case, we are not speaking of knowledge in the strict sense but rather of contact with one’s own registers of thinking.
2. In the second place, education should provide the stimulus for emotional comprehension and development. Therefore, in planning an integrated education one should consider exercises in both theatrical performance and other kinds of self-expression, along with the development of skills in harmony and rhythm. The objective of all this is not, however, procedures that claim to “produce” artistic talents, but rather to enable individuals to make emotional contact with themselves and others, thereby avoiding the disorders that are produced by an education based on isolation and inhibition.
3. In the third place, we should include a practice that will put into harmonious play all of a person’s corporal resources. Sports can lead to a one-sided rather than integrated development, and the discipline we propose more closely resembles gymnastics practiced as an art rather than a sport, because it involves getting in touch with one’s body and managing it with ease. For all these reasons sports would not be considered a developmental activity, though the cultivation of sports could be important if based on the discipline referred to above.
4. I have spoken so far about education from the point of view of the human being’s formative activities in the human landscape, but I have not spoken about the relationship between information and knowledge, or about the incorporation of data through study, or about practice as a way of acquiring knowledge.
VII. History
1. As long as one continues to think about the historical process from an external look, it is pointless to try to explain it as the progressive unfolding of human intentionality in its struggle to overcome pain (physical) and suffering (mental). And so it is that while there are those concerned with unveiling the innermost laws of human events on the basis of matter, or spirit, or a certain line of reasoning, in truth they always see the internal mechanism they seek from “outside” the human being.
2. Of course, the historical process will continue to be understood as the development of a form that is, when all is said and done, nothing but the mental form of those who view things in that particular way. And it does not matter what sort of dogma is appealed to, the background that dictates one’s adherence to that position will always be that-which-one-wants-to-see.
VIII. Ideologies
1. The ideologies that prevailed during certain historical moments showed their usefulness in orienting human action and interpreting the world in which the lives of both individuals and human groups unfolded. Those ideologies have now been displaced by others, whose greatest achievement lies in appearing to be reality itself—supremely concrete and immediate, exempt from all “ideology.”
2. Thus, the opportunists of the past, whose hallmark was their betrayal of every commitment, appear in these times of the crisis of ideologies, calling themselves “pragmatists” or “realists” without the vaguest idea of the origins of these terms. In any case, they brazenly espouse their false schematicism, presenting it as the pinnacle of intelligence and virtue.
3. As social change accelerated, the gulf between successive generations rapidly widened, while the human landscape in which they were formed grew ever more distant from the human landscape in which they were required to act, leaving them orphaned, bereft of any theory or model of conduct. Thus they were obliged to give ever more rapid and increasingly improvised responses, becoming “situationalist,” limited to only a short-term approach to action. And with that, any idea of process and all notion of historicity began to wane, and in their place appeared a look that was increasingly analytical and fragmented.
4. It turns out that these pragmatic cynics are the shameful grandchildren of those hard-working builders of “unhappy consciousness” and the children of those who denounced ideologies as the “masking” of reality. And so it is that all pragmatism bears the familial stamp of absolutism. Thus we hear them say, “We must rely on reality and not on theories.” This, however, has only brought them innumerable difficulties, as when irrationalist currents emerged declaring, “We must rely on our reality and not on your theories.”

IX. Violence
1. When people speak of the methodology of action in the context of social and political struggle, the subject of violence frequently arises. There are, however, prior issues that bear on this topic.
2. Violence will continue to color all social activity as long as the human being does not fully realize a human society—a society in which power is in the hands of the social whole and not some part of it that subordinates and objectifies the whole. Therefore, when we speak of violence we must talk of the established world. And if one opposes that world in nonviolent struggle, one must begin by stressing that what characterizes a nonviolent attitude is that it does not tolerate violence. Then it is not a question of justifying any particular type of struggle but of defining the conditions of violence imposed by this inhuman system.
3. At the same time, many errors result from confusing nonviolence with pacifism. While nonviolence needs no justification as a methodology of action, pacifism, which considers peace to be a state of nonbelligerence, must carefully consider what conditions bring us closer to or take us further from that peace. And so while pacifism approaches issues such as disarmament as the essential social priorities, in fact armamentism is but one particular case of the threat of physical violence under the direction of the power established by that minority of people which manipulates the State.
The issue of disarmament is of utmost importance, and it is all to the good that pacifism raises this urgent question. However, even were it successful in its demands it would not thereby be able to modify the context of this violence or, except in the most artificial fashion, to extend its proposals to include modifying the social structure itself. There are, of course, a number of models of pacifism and various theoretical foundations within this current, but none of them can provide a more comprehensive model. If, however, this vision of the world were broader, we would certainly be in the presence of a doctrine that would include pacifism. And in this case we would need to discuss the foundations of that broader doctrine before supporting or rejecting the type of pacifism that derives from it.

X. Law
1. “Your rights end where the rights of others begin.” Therefore: “The rights of others end where your rights begin.” However, since it is generally the first and not the second phrase that is emphasized, we are led to suspect that those who maintain this position see themselves as “the others”—that is, as the representatives of all other people, as the representatives of an established system that needs no justification.
2. There has been no lack of those who would derive the law from some purported “human nature,” but as this has already been discussed it would add nothing to the subject at hand.
3. Practical people who have not lost themselves in theorizing have concluded simply that the law is necessary if people are to coexist within a society. It has also been said that the laws are made in order to defend the interests of those who impose them.
4. It would appear that it is a preexisting situation of power that establishes any given law, and that law in turn legitimates power. So it is power, as the imposition of an intention, whether accepted or not, that is our central theme. It is said that “might does not make right,” but this nonsense can be accepted only if one thinks of “might” simply as brute physical force. In reality, however, force (economic, political, and so on) does not need to be expressed perceptually in order to make its presence felt and to command respect. Moreover, the naked threat of physical force (the force of arms, for example) is used to impose situations that the law is used to justify. Nor should we overlook the fact that the use of arms in a given direction depends on human intention and not on laws.
5. Those who violate the law ignore a situation imposed in the present and expose their temporality (their future) to the decisions of others. But it is clear that this “present” in which the law is in force has its roots in the past. Custom, morality, religion, and social consensus are the sources generally invoked to justify the existence of law. Each of these in turn depends on the power that imposed it. And these purported sources are reconsidered whenever the power that gave them origin has declined or transformed to such a degree that maintaining the prior juridical order begins to conflict with “what is reasonable,” with “common sense,” and so forth.
Apparently the law is not broken, at least not when the legislature modifies a law or the people’s representatives change the country’s constitution. And this is so because those who take these actions are not exposed to the decisions of others—that is, they either hold power themselves or act as the representatives of some power. These situations make it clear that power generates laws and obligations, and not the reverse.
6. Human rights are not in universal effect as we would wish, and that is because there is not a universal power of humanity, but instead these rights depend on the power that one part of humankind holds over the whole. Since we find in every latitude that even the most elementary demands for control over one’s own body are trampled upon, we can speak only of aspirations that have yet to be transformed into rights. Human rights do not belong to the past, they are there in the future, calling to our intentionality and fueling a struggle that is reborn with every new infringement upon human destiny. Thus, every demand made, every voice raised on behalf of human rights is meaningful because it shows the powers-that-be that they are not omnipotent, nor do they control the future.

XI. The State
1. It has been said that a nation is a legal entity formed of the totality of the inhabitants of a country under the rule of a given government. Subsequently, this idea was extended to include a country’s territory. In truth, however, a nation can exist for millennia without being ruled by a given government, without being limited to a single territory, and without being legally recognized by any state.
What defines a nation is the mutual recognition established between people who identify with similar values and aspire to a common future. And this has nothing to do with race or language—or with history understood as “a lengthy period of time with its roots in a mythic past.” A nation can be formed today, can grow toward the future, or founder tomorrow, just as it can incorporate into its project other people or groups. In this sense, one could speak of the formation of a human nation which has yet to take shape as such and has suffered countless persecutions and failures—above all the failure of the future landscape.
2. To the State, an entity that in fact has to do with certain forms of government regulated by law, is often attributed the mysterious ability to form nationalities and to be, itself, the nation. But this recent fiction of the nation-state is suffering the onslaught of a rapidly transforming human landscape. Thus, the powers that formed the present-day State and endowed it with simple attributes of intermediation now find themselves in a position to move beyond the present form of that apparatus, an apparatus that apparently concentrates in itself the power of the nation.
3. The “powers” of the State are not the real powers, the powers that generate rights and obligations and that administer or enforce certain rules. Rather, as the monopoly of this apparatus grew, it became transformed into the successive (or permanent) spoils of the warring factions. In the end it came to benefit only an increasingly irrelevant bureaucracy, hobbling the freedom of action of the true powers and hindering the activity of the people. Thus, none but the most obstructionist elements of society benefit from the form of the present-day State.
The point is that, along with the progressive decentralization and decrease of State power, there must be a corresponding growth in the power of the social whole. The only guarantee that today’s grotesque State will not simply be replaced by the unrestrained power of those same interests that created it (and which today strive to dispense with it), is to be found in those factors that the people themselves manage and supervise with solidarity, free from the paternalism of any faction.
4. A people that is in a position to increase its real power (unmediated by the State or by the power held by some part of the whole) will best be able to project itself toward the future as the vanguard of the universal human nation.
5. Do not believe that when empires annexed territories and nations they granted greater decision-making power to the conquered peoples; rather they imposed the homogeneous dominion of their own narrow interests. In the same way, people’s decision-making powers will not increase through artificial union in supranational entities.
6. While many now anticipate a regional unification of wealth (or poverty) in dialectic with extra-regional powers, any temporary benefits that may result from this arrangement will not imply that the fundamental problem of realizing a fully human society has been resolved. Any society, of whatever form, that is not fully human will be subject to unexpected pitfalls and catastrophes resulting from surrendering its decisions to the will of special interests.
7. As a consequence of regional unification there may emerge either a monstrous super-State or the unrestrained domination of the (now totally homogenized) special interests of earlier times. Imposing, in either case, their power in the most sophisticated fashion on the whole of society, they will give rise to innumerable conflicts, which will shake the very basis of such unions and unleash devastating centrifugal forces. If, on the other hand, the people’s decision-making power increases, then the integration of diverse communities will herald the emergence of the developing human nation. XII. Religion
1. That which is said about things and events is not the things and the events themselves, but rather “figures” that have a certain structure in common with them. Thanks to that common structure, it is possible to talk about things and events. That structure, however, cannot in turn be talked about in the same way that things are talked about because it is the structure of that which is being said as well as of things and events. Thus, language can point to, but not speak of, that which “includes” everything (even language itself). Such is the case of “God.” 2. Much has been said about God, but all of that appears, then, to be a contradiction in terms, to the extent that we notice what is being said, what one claims to be saying.
3. We can say nothing about God. We can speak only of what has been said about God. Many things have been said about God, and much can be said about all this that has been said, but not because of this are we making any progress on the theme of God insofar as it refers to God per se.
4. This kind of tongue twister aside, religions can be of profound interest only when they attempt to point to God rather than to talk about God.
5. Religions, however, express that which exists in their respective landscapes, and consequently a religion is neither true nor false, because its value is not logical. Its value lies in the type of internal register that it evokes, in the agreement between the landscapes one wishes to express and what is really being demonstrated.
6. Religious literature is often linked to landscapes, both external and human, and the characteristics and attributes of their gods are not independent of those landscapes. Nevertheless, even when these external and human landscapes change, this religious literature may endure into new times. And that is hardly surprising, given that nonreligious literature of various kinds also finds a following and awakens emotions in distant eras. Nor does a cult’s persistence through time say much about its “truth,” since legal formalities and social ceremonies often pass from culture to culture and continue to be observed even when knowledge of their original significance has been lost.
7. A religion bursts onto a human landscape in a particular historical period, and so it is often said that at that moment God “reveals” himself to the human being. But in order for that revelation to be accepted in a given historical moment, something must take place in the internal landscape of the human being. That change has generally been interpreted as if “outside” the human being, placing it in the external or social world, and there are certain benefits to be gained in doing so. But something is lost as well—the ability to understand the religious phenomenon as an internal register.
8. But religions have also portrayed themselves as something external, and in so doing they have prepared the ground for the above-mentioned interpretations.
9. When I speak of “external religion,” I am not referring to the projection of psychological images as icons, paintings, statues, buildings, or relics (things proper to visual perception). Nor am I referring to projections in the form of chanting and prayer (proper to auditory perception), nor to their projection as gestures, postures, or the turning of the body in certain directions (proper to kinesthetic and coenesthetic perceptions). Finally, I do not say that a religion is external because it has its sacred books, sacraments, and so on. I do not even call it external because to its liturgy it adds a church, an organization, or holy days, or because it requires of its followers a certain physical state or age in order to carry out specific operations. No, that is the way the followers of the various religions struggle among themselves, each accusing the other faction of various degrees of idolatry because of a preference for working with certain types of images. Rather than dealing with anything substantial, however, this only demonstrates the complete psychological ignorance of the contending parties.
10. When I speak of “external religion” I am referring to any religion that claims to talk about God and the will of God instead of speaking about the religious sentiment and the innermost register of the human being. Even seeking support in externalized worship could be meaningful if through such practices the believers were able to awaken in themselves (were able to reveal) the presence of God.
11. The fact that until now religions have been external corresponds to the type of human landscape in which they were born and developed. Nevertheless, the birth of an inner religion is possible, or in order to survive contemporary religions may convert to an internal religiosity. However, this will only occur to the extent that the internal landscape is ready to accept a new revelation. We are now beginning to catch glimpses of this in those societies in which the human landscape is undergoing such drastic change that the need for internal references is becoming a matter of extreme urgency.
12. None of what has been said about religions can remain standing today, however, for both religion’s apologists and its critics have failed to notice the change that is taking place within the human being. If in the past some people have thought of religions as soporifics to political or social action, today they oppose them for their powerful influence in those fields. Where others once imagined religions imposing their message, now they find that this message has changed. And those who once believed that religions would last forever, today doubt their eternity, while those who assumed that religions were soon to disappear are now surprised to witness the irruption of new forms that are manifestly or latently mystical.
13. There are few in this field who can intuit what the future holds, because there are so few concerned with trying to understand in what direction human intentionality, which definitively transcends the individual human being, is heading. If humanity desires something new to “make itself known,” it is because that which tends to make itself known is already operating in humankind’s internal landscape. But it is not by claiming to be the representative of some god that the internal register of the human being is converted into the dwelling-place or the landscape of a transcendent look, a transcendent intention.

XIII. Open Roads
1. And what of work, money, love, death, and the many other aspects of the human landscape barely touched on in these commentaries? Certainly there is much more to say for anyone who wishes to, as long as it is done bearing in mind this way of approaching the issues: referring looks to landscapes and understanding that landscapes change looks.
2. Since this is the case, there is no need to speak of other subjects. If someone is interested in these ideas and the way we have spoken about them up to now, they can speak in the same way that we would. On the other hand, it would make no sense to continue to speak for others if we are talking about things that are of no interest to anyone or with a form of expression that does not allow things to be brought to light.

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