The Problem of Signification

As you read this, you probably are not aware of the process that is happening behind the scenes. Somehow, you are taking these pixilated symbols off of this glowing screen and you are converting them into ideas. We engage in this process constantly, converting symbols into ideas and ideas into symbols and, most of the time, we do so without any conscious thought. The only time we are made aware of the process is when we encounter a symbol that is new to us, is used in an unusual context, or is configured in a pattern we are not used to (such as the way the familiar letters of the alphabet can form words of languages that are unfamiliar to us).

This process, of assigning symbols to "mean" a thing or an idea is called signification. Signification has allowed us to convey information from person to person and across generations. It allows you to gather these ideas even though we may have never met face-to-face. It allows words to enflame our emotions and passions. It allows us to feel Othello's pain when Iago betrays him -- even though Shakespeare wrote those words hundreds of years ago. If signification is such a wonderful process, how could it also be problematic?

To answer that question, let's look at how signification (at least as far as most experts in linguistics describe it) works. To do that, however, we must assign some symbols to the process of assigning symbols. The most concrete map of this process comes from the world of semiotics. Ferdinand de Saussure (generally considered one of the founders of semiotics) constructed the following model for visualizing signification:

...signifier + signified = sign. The signifier is a physical object e.g., a sound, printed word, or image. The signified is a mental concept (bearing no necessary relationship to the signifier). The sign is the associative total which relates the two together (Fiske & Hartley, 38).

Some semioticians, notably Hjelmslev, use the terms "expression plane" and "content plane" to replace signifier and signified, but the simpler terms will suffice for the matter at hand (Eco, 14). To put this into action, conjure up a picture in your mind that fits this description: "cat." Got it? Good. Now, the signifier(sr) is the word "cat" or the corresponding sound that we associate with that word. The signified(sd)? Well, it's not any particular cat, but the one you put together in your head. The sign(sn) is the mental leap, the magic, the whatever-it-is that connects the two (sr and sd) for you. The key to remember, so far, is that this connection is not natural. The linking of sr and sd is man-made and culturally bound.

Okay. relatively simple to this point, eh? But why do I say that this process, this wonderful magic of signification is a problem? The problem is rooted in one simple fact: we are culturally taught that the sr - sd relationship is natural. We are taught that a "cat" is a . But those letters that spell "cat" or that sound that we symbolize as "cat" won't catch mice or sleep on your feet at night. Michel Foucault explains that signification has been so enculturated in us that the separation is nearly invisible:

For the text to shape itself, for all its juxtaposed signs to form a dove, a flower, a rainstorm, the gaze must refrain from any possible reading. Letters must remain points, sentences lines, paragraphs surfaces or masses -- wings, stalks, or petals. The text must say nothing to this gazing subject who is a viewer, not a reader. As soon as he begins to read, in fact, shape dissipates. . . .Despite appearances, in forming a bird, a flower, or rain, the calligram does not say: These things are a dove, a flower, a downpour. As soon as it begins to do so, to speak and convey meaning, the bird has already flown, the rain has evaporated. For whoever sees it [signification], the calligram does not say, cannot yet say: This is a flower, this is a bird. It is still too much trapped within shape, within representation by resemblance to form such a proposition (24).

Foucault argues that even when the text says something akin to "this is not a cat" that we will still struggle with ourselves and see the cat. For instance, when I tell you to not picture a pink elephant, you can't help but to do so. Foucault examines this concept in more detail in an examination of the works of Magritte.

If signification is so natural, so difficult to overcome, why is it a problem? The problem is simply this: It seems trivial that there is no relationship between "cat" and the animal; it seems considerably less trivial when you consider what signified such signifiers as "truth," "justice," and "freedom" refer to. The fact that there is no concrete signified for terms such as these, yet you see the terms as having a natural relationship to some signified, means that the person who is creating the signification can manipulate what these signifiers mean and can even manipulate the sign itself.

We say we want our freedom...but all we asking for is a signifier with no real meaning.

The first big breakthrough you must make as a critic is to overcome signification. This is possible by making yourself aware of how symbols are used to control the reader/audience. It is also important to ask people to define what they mean by the signifiers they use. Though definition is merely more signification, it allows you insight into the motives of the speaker by forcing them to show you the signified they are attempting to create.

Magritte's infamous painting...by the way, the text says, "this is not a pipe."
We could continue the argument by simply saying, neither is this.

Umberto Eco. Semiotics and the Philosophy of Language. Bloomington, IN: Indiana U. Press, 1986.
John Fiske & John Hartley. Reading Television. London: Routledge, 1994.
Michel Foucault. This is Not a Pipe. Trans. James Harkness. Berkeley, CA: U. California Press, 1982.