You Know More than You Can Say
The scientist, or any knower, observes “a set of rules which are not known as such to the person following them” (49). There are rules to an art, but they do not always determine how you practice that art. Polanyi gives the example of practicing a piano. On one hand, a certain sequence of keys have to be hit, but they also have to be hit in a certain way, or “touch.” The element of “touch” remains surprisingly resistant to analysis.
This type of learning is tradition, or that of a master/apprentice relationship. The apprentice watches the master and imitates him. In doing so, he not only learns the technical process of the craft, but he also picks up the rule of the art which aren’t always known to the master himself (53).
Focal Awareness vs. Subsidiary Awareness
I hit a hammer with a nail. In doing so, I attend to both the hammer and the nail, but not in the same way. My focal awareness is on driving the nail. My subsidiary awareness is on the feeling the hammer has on my hand. I am “watch[ing] something else while keeping intensely aware of [it]” (55).
Polanyi concludes this chapter noting that “personal knowledge in science is not made but discovered, and as such it claims contact with reality beyond the clues on which it relies. It commits us, passionately and far beyond our comprehension, to a vision of reality” (64). This is what Thomas Torrance calls “kataphysic knowledge.” It is where we submit as knower to the object known, which then impresses itself into our mode of knowing.