Objectivity

I've been looking at from time to time and thinking about that thing for a while, or more objectively according to my e-mail account, 11 hours and four minutes. I think we can indeed be objective about what is actually on the "page," so to speak, that is, what is actually white and what is actually black in the design. We could also take a survey and find out objectively what the statistics are of people's impressions of what is represented, if anything, in the design. If we could interview the artist, we could objectively state what she or he said he or she had drawn. If we could not talk to the artist or find anything the artist had left behind, then we could not be objective about "artistic intent." So there are realms of objectivity in my opinion, but there are also plenty of areas of subjectivity.

The origin of notions of objectivity, I suggest, are in notions of monotheism; If there is one intelligent God, then there is truth. Therefore we might suggest that there is no 'objectivity' outside of monotheism. Frankly though, we humans on that basis while we may be able to get a 'grasp' on he who is 'objective' cannot ourselves do so objectively. In international context claims for 'objectivity' are, I suggest in effect, claims for the superiority of the Western worldview. The Western has taken God and displaced him with another 'objectivity' science. Science, then, emerged from theology, but science itself is not objective because it is done by people. I don't consider Glenn's examples to be 'objective' because they are chosen subjectively. E.g. there is nothing inherently preferable to considering the black and white marks on a page in the way he suggests; doing so may actually result in us missing the entire contents of the page; that which someone is trying to communicate to us.

Objective doesn't mean preferable, which it sounds like Jim is reading into my comments. I agree that objective may be simply a substitute for Western values, but in the sense of the word itself, objective means related to the object, which in this case is black marks and white marks. However we may not even be able to be objective about "black" and "white" unless we limit or fix upon definitions. What someone is trying to communicate with us implies artistic intent of some kind, something we may not be able to be objective about.

Hi Glenn, I suggest that objects as objects only 'exist' for people with certain worldviews. For other people, objects are always imbued with power, and essentially defined that way. (I could say 'imbued with spiritual power', but that would be an inaccurate approximation, because it would imply that 'spiritual' has an identity separate from the 'object'.) Then the objective view is a 'power-free' view, only achievable by Western people.

Jim, I think we are pursuing a wrestling with words more than anything else. If "the objective view is a 'power-free' view, only achievable by Western people," then it cannot have been chosen subjectively, since then only Western people can be objective. If a pre-literate non-Western person looks at the object in question and does not imbue it with an "anima" because he does not see it as an attempt to communicate or even recognize it as an "object," and concludes it is simply smudges or something else, then that non-Western person has a more "objective" view than a Western person who is searching for the hidden design or hidden message subjectively. I think we can agree that one's worldview affects virtually everything. However, I have a hard time reconciling what you said previously about objectivity as a claim for superiority of the Western view. Your statement "Then the objective view is a 'power-free' view, only achievable by Western people" implies, whether superior or not, that only Western people can be objective. I thought you were arguing against that idea. And I'm not sure we are even on track any more as it relates to Bible translation's quest for objectivity, which was James's original proposal.

Hi, Not sure how Glenn’s ‘confessions’ affect the overall state of this discussion? … Brian: I am not sure that James is correct in the accusation he makes about bible translators making a word-to-word fantasy. They are however by necessity restricted in their options. For example, if Jesus crossed the sea of Galilee, and for a certain ‘tribe’ crossing the lake is thought to lead to certain death, the correct contextual translation must be a wrong one. So, translators do their task according to certain 'foreign' contextual presuppositions regardless of ‘native’ understandings. Glenn: I am afraid I don’t fully get your first paragraph. I am implying that only Western people can be ‘objective’. That is quite a problem. From James’ piece, he seems to be questioning the certainty that he perceives that bible translators practice. They use ‘objectivity’ as the basis for their certainty. I guess I am suggesting that God is correctly the basis for any such certainty. To say that the inevitable subjectivity of someone’s translation is brought into line by their being ‘objective’ is a euphemism for saying that God is guiding the translator, I suggest. Yes, that is implying that God has been guiding the West longer than he has been non-Westerners, which seems a fair historical presupposition, even if not a politically-correct one.

Jim, since on the previous subject neither of us seems to be sure of what the other is saying, let's just move on to your statement: I guess I am suggesting that God is correctly the basis for any such certainty. To say that the inevitable subjectivity of someone’s translation is brought into line by their being ‘objective’ is a euphemism for saying that God is guiding the translator, I suggest. Yes, that is implying that God has been guiding the West longer than he has been non-Westerners, which seems a fair historical presupposition, even if not a politically-correct one. I find that statement deeply thought-provoking, as I certainly hope that in the midst of all our wrestling over theory and terms, the concept of God guiding us is fundamentally important to whatever we do. And if what you say at the end is true, I hope, as Adam said in his blog, I hope we are humble about it.

Why do translator need to be as objective as possible? I think we do need to translate as closed as the Original Author's intend to communicate through the text according to our best understanding after seriously studying and research( or seek for others opinion). How much research is enough? How good is good enough? Those are the questions depends on your context and resources available. Objectivity can be understood as collective subjectivity with prejudice of believing scholars and democratic. How objective can be sometimes depend on how much time do you have and how much funding or resources do you have in your project.

Hi Glenn, Yes, that is also thought provoking to me. It can be as if using 'objectivity' as a front can be a way of trying to conceal our subjectivity, that could arguably conceal the arm of God. It could also be a way of making our activities acceptable to the 'secular world'. That does tie in with Jeremiah's point though, in my view. Let's say; how to avoid a 'free for all'. There's an important reason for people having oriented themselves to 'objectivity'. Jeremiah, I think I am right in saying, redefines objectivity for us. One could say he takes an Asian version, as the Western version doesn't make sense to him. (I don't mind getting push back on this point ... , or on any point of course.) All in all, I think most of us would be encouraged to find God in preference to methodologies at the centre of our translation efforts.

I don't usually get involved in these discussions, but the topic of objectivity is of interest to me. As a student of Ken Pike, I learned that everything is a matter of perspective. The closest thing to objectivity would be what God knows, but that is way beyond us. Interestingly, back in the 50s (before my time), there was discussion in the field of linguistics about whether linguistic analysis was "God's truth" or "hocus pocus." The former term referred to something objectively true, the latter to something made up. Anyway, as far as I can recall, I avoid using the phrase "as objective as possible." I agree with the author of this blog--if I understood him correctly--that in many cases it would be preferable to say "impartial" instead of "objective." This theme of subjective vs. objective is something that I keep coming back to repeatedly in my writings (such as they are). At a Bible translation conference in Murcia, Spain, sponsored by the Nida Institute, I even presented a paper "On the Inescapably Subjective Nature of Translation." (It remains an unpublished paper.)

Thanks David. Love to see your paper available on MAP. It seems to me that in the background or the margins of the objective vs subjective discussion is foundationalism vs. antifoundationalism, which have many mutations between strong and weak. Green and Franke's "Beyond Founationalism" might speak to these (or my) concerns.

I deeply appreciate A.K.M Adam's thought provoking blog. It is, pretty much, a deconstruction of “objectivity” and “impartiality.” Behind these words that seem to describe unattainable goals, I believe, there does lurk a describable virtue that is among the goods of the practice/discipline of interpretation, especially Biblical interpretation. I would like to borrow a concept from the interpretation of human emotional systems and call this virtue “differentiation.” Differentiation is an emotional process and state, achieved more or less well, more or less poorly, in which the participant in the process of interpretation and interaction cultivates an awareness of his or her personal role in the current progress or regress of understanding. Pursuing differentiation, one assumes that—in the act of interpretation—one is a participant in an emotional system (of Bible and "not-bible" interpreters). The ability to think and understand more or less well are influenced by participation in the emotional system and the restricted automatic responses baked into the system (entropy). The automatic responses of conventionality have the effect of foreclosing many fruitful options of interpretation and thoughtful response. The key is to sustain participation in the system while exercising the ability to imagine oneself thinking outside that participation so that new, creative options might be brought to bear on interpretive problems when the interpretive system experiences deadlock and is in need of adjustment or disruption. Differentiation may be practiced with respect to other participants, traditional conceptual tools, interpretive processes and assumptions, interpretations, or even the self-image.

AKMA's struggle with the empty gestures of objectivity—and even the goal of impartiality—is a part of his organic approach to interpretation signaled in his article "Reading the Bible in a Sea of Signs: A Postmodern Therapy" https://www.academia.edu/570949/Reading\_the\_Bible\_in\_a\_sea\_of\_signs. Here is an incisive quote: "By shifting our interpretive attention slightly away from words’ allegedly intrinsic meanings, and noticing the world’s vast interwoven fabric of expression and apprehension, offering and uptake, we can recognize biblical writings as gestures on the part of generations of storytellers and lawgivers, authors and editors and scribes, toward helping us recognize God’s ways and God’s character. The earliest audiences for these gestures perhaps misconstrued them; subsequent generations misconstrued them; and we too are likely to misconstrue them. We cannot stave off error by intensifying our attention to methods and facts in a futile effort to impose or control correct interpretation. We can, however, work toward minimizing our errors by attending to the ways that saints and communities convincingly embodied the biblical truth that prophets and apostles handed down to them, by acknowledging our partiality and allowing that others may know better than we do. We can join in imitating them, and observe those who live according to the example we have in them."

You're right. I read and wrote too quickly. Impartiality is just as unattainable as objectivity. It is good to acknowledge one's partiality. Having said that, in some contexts it does seem reasonable for me to say that I am trying to be impartial. Does "trying to be as impartial as possible" make any more sense than to say "trying to be as objective as possible?" Maybe. I have not read A.K.M. Adam's full essay, which no doubt would be fascinating, but *if* I read his blog entry carefully enough, another point I agree on is the role of trust.

I do have doubts regarding the whole 'impartiality' and 'objectivity' thing. I am surprised that no one has added 'humility' to the list. My point about God's role in translation seems to have been left aside. Fair enough, but yet I wonder why? I am concerned about someone who is 'trying to be impartial'. This is on the basis that it seems someone who comes to me and says 'I cannot help but be partial' is someone who is opening, or leaving open, a conversation. They are ready to be corrected. Someone who claims to be 'impartial' or 'objective' is a bit like saying 'keep your distance, I'm doing OK without you'. 'I am being hopelessly partial in this' sounds more like an invitation to the indigenous people to come on board with the understanding process. At the same time I could ask just where is the difference between 'I am trying to be impartial' and 'I am seeking God's guidance' in my translation, except that the former seems to deny whereas the latter accepts a role for the Holy Spirit?

Let me ask a related question: if objectivity and impartiality are unobtainable (and perhaps even misguided), what do you think about claims of 'scholarly consensus' as a standard?

Thanks for these responses. My own response would begin with questions about the statement "the only game in town": Which game? which town? Who determines the game and the town? As for a less cheeky response, I am reminded of what Translation Studies has done in the past with related issues, specifically, about 'norms of translation.' Coming at the issue of objectivity/impartiality by addressing the notion of absolute norms in translation, Israeli scholars, Itmar Even-Zohar and Gideon Toury, propose ways forward in Description Translation Studies and especially Polysystem Theory. Here are some references to Toury's contributions: Toury, G. (1978) ‘The Nature and Role of Norms in Literary Translation’ in Literature and Translation:New Perspectives in Literary Studies, J.S. Holmes et al. (eds), Leuven: acco, 83–90. _________ ([1995] 2012) Descriptive Translation Studies and Beyond, rev. ed., Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company.

Polysystem theory acknowledges the existence of "norms" as an institutional or cultural standard without say those are absolute or imbued with longevity. It is descriptive in many ways as is a descriptive grammar, saying what is without saying what should or should not be. It also acknowledges the interplay of systems within a society or culture or institution that define what is the repertoire of that society, culture, or institution. Since systems can be added, subtracted, created, borrowed, or altered, then the overall polysystem is open-ended. Perhaps being open-ended (and definitely including being humble) is a better way of describing what we are striving for in place or either objectivity or impartiality.

Now here's a spanner in the works, that I did also allude to above. I listed impartiality, objectivity, and humility as being of the same ilk. Could it be that someone who is 'humble' is the hardest to handle? I've done a quick study. Others would know much more. The term tapeinoo occurs 14 times in the NT. Here's part of a Strong's definition for 'tapeinoo': "to behave in an unassuming manner devoid of all haughtiness". But this is not the dominant one. More dominant are notions of reducing to meaner circumstances, level off, frugal living, be ranked below others, and such like. I think the latter is where Westerners involved in bible translation and interpretation have the difficulty. Certainly we have that difficulty as soon as we are a gateway for and gatekeeper of funds. In much of Africa, such is assumed by default. Here I think is the problem, if there is one.

If one claims to be subjective, quite likely he/she will be right. If one claims to be objective, quite likely he/she could be wrong. I am not sure whether the above statement is right or wrong? How do you think?

I have great respect for tradition and for consensus. Any tradition with a future has to have. But I'm concerned about the consensus of scholars. I see it as a bit club-footed as a norm. As Jim's questions indicate, we know time, place and culture condition it. The availability of information about that consensus and who, how and why consensus is disseminated conditions that consensus. If I objectify scholarly consensus, I may end up with a very subjective notion of what that consensus, if it exists, might mean. Ultimately, no matter how one derives one's sense of a consensus, it boils down to the pressure of convention. The desire to avoid the shame of one's peers plays a big part in that pressure. James Maxey's query about "Which game? which town? Who determines the game and the town?" is appropriate. I am reminded of Wittgenstein's insight, "to imagine a language is to imagine a form of life." Criticism of consensus of opinion has been so persistent and widespread that the phrase, even though in common use, occurs only infrequently in edited formal writing. With this in mind, we might think of consensus translation as a particular game within the practice of translation. It has its own set of rules. However, to say it is "the only game in town" is sort of like saying, (borrowing from Wittgenstein again), "'Playing a game consists in moving objects about on a surface according to certain rules ...'" What if I then said, "You seem to be thinking of board-games, but they are not all the games there are." You can only rectify your explanation by expressly limiting it to those games. My concern, is about quality in translation. Scholarly consensus, for me, is a conceptual tool to be played with in various types of games. And it should regularly be deconstructed and shown for the bugaboo that it is. When consensus plays too large a role in the emotional system of Bible translation, it bothers me, because I see innovation in translation as a more important game.

1. I'm surprised the words "objectivity" and "impartiality" are used at all. I'm not sure that scholarly research on the fields of e.g. history or biblical studies would use them. Scholars would, I think, more than one would guess from the discussion above, totally agree with the idea that "objective" or "impartial" approaches or outcomes are impossible, and that "ideologies" (or non-neutrality) are part of the game. We've have left Von Ranke's blind optimism many decades ago. "Truth" certainly has become more provisional (see Bob's answer), elusive, and relative than modernity would have argued. What is viewed as "truth" is usually the outcome of discussions on scholarly forums to which everyone can participate. I'd like to compare the discipline of history with that of archeology: the foundations are the partial data we have, but together we do our best to (re)construct a picture of the building it once was. Some details will always be unknowns, and there's always the possibility that the whole picture needs to be redone because of new findings or new ideas. So "truth" lasts until someone comes up with an convincing new viewpoint that moves the field in another direction. In that respect, I still think it is the best game in town: it's open, accessible, and non-hierarchical. So far for the historical disciplines. 2) I admit, however, that translation, especially Bible translation, is a trickier field, because we are not only dealing with dead archeological data, but with living communities of faith. And so here I totally agree with the warning "whose game," or "which town"? There's always a need for negotiation between the (provisional!!) truths of biblical exegesis and the needs of local communities. "Those local people" is in fact everyone of us, when we translate for our own communities in our own languages. I've been a translator myself and have gone through the process of negotiating between the scholarly side of my exegetical work, and the needs of the church communities in Holland. There our no fixed outcomes here. The Bible is open to endless possibilities for communities, languages, and generations. The Bible is not owned by the scholars - on the contrary I would say. 3) Since I love the discipline of history, I will keep trying to find out what is the most probable solution for any historical or exegetical question. But I am grateful for the postmodernists' wake-up call that there is no eternal "Truth," and for their warning for possible hidden power games. On the other hand: too much despair or cynicism about the academic world can become an ideology in itself as well (meaning: as much as the one that holds on to the notion of pure objectivity, no matter what). And I also keep Hannah Arendt's warning (in The Origins of Totalitarianism) in mind: that too much distrust against official historiography can lead to the possibility that "monstruous falsehoods can eventually be established as unquestioned facts"- a reality known all too well to her, and the flipside of the power games mentioned in the discussions above. BTW: coming from Holland, to me "democracy" is certainly not the vote of the majority. It is more a model of cooperation, and the concern that any group, big or small, can have its voice. See Wikipedia "Polder model."

Hi Marijke, and all. We praise God for the miracle that he did in Marijke's life! Not the only miracle that God does and has done of course. Now, that does raise the question of 'miracle', in the contemporary West something like 'something that happens contrary to the rules of science'. That's an understanding that can't be there in 'traditional societies', e.g. aborigines in Australia, who don't 'have' science in the first place. Bultmann (who tried to demythologise the bible) would have had, presumably, a non-task if he was an aborigene. You and I may or may not agree with Bultmann, but we get what he's at. The West has both appropriated 'miracle', and then declared it impossible. Crazy! I do, therefore, go along with Yancy, that there is no interpretation that stands aside from history. (And no history that stands aside from translation.) Were we (on what basis?) to translate the bible into an aborigene language, and then let aborigines get on with it (interpreting it to his community), the outcome would be aborigene. The aborigine view of how the church functioned in the NT, according to their reading of the NT, then I think could be (would be) vastly different to that of European scholars. NT characters would live in a desert, make their living by hunting, have wives / mistresses / girlfriends (I don't know how aborigenes do this?) regularly see kangaroos, etc. Yes, that does put the whole of scholarship against a question mark; scholars have to start somewhere, and that somewhere isn't written into the world, it has to be discovered, and there are lots of options. Who knows how aborigenes might interpret that she 'had five wives'; it would depend somewhat I guess on how we translated 'wife', and so on. So deconstruction takes us all apart, and leaves us all floating in a meaningless ether (at least 'meaningless ether' is how a post-modern person might say it!) Yet, I rejoice, and long for more to take Derrida seriously. This is because he does not only deconstruct the bible, but also everything else. To me, that's what 'traditional people' actually know already: there is no 'objectivity'. That's why aborigines (and other primal people) live as they live. That's why they rejoice when you come along and declare to them that there is one God. That's a beginning of making sense out of life. The bible speaks prophetically INTO postmodernism, whereas it was rendered marginal by modernism. We just have to get people to realise this in the West, where some folks (e.g. in the UK which I am visiting at the moment) don't even see the need for God, never mind the bible. They THINK they have objectivity to believe in.

Jim, I don't think it is quite right that a healthy deconstruction of our categories and conceptual tools (like "objectivity," for example) leaves us floating in the ether. It certainly does not mean leaving truth behind, either. Rather, deconstruction is a theory that says: don't trust the categories that you have at hand. Don't trust this reliable drawer-full of tools that you assume when you want to think about the world. Because they are much more slippery than you imagine, they bleed into one another. Things are not as clear or as distinct as you think they are. So to "deconstruct" something is to look at it very, very closely until you realize how porous, multiplex and ambiguous it really is. That is not bad, it means an opening to the future. It means a belief or practice or an institution, just like a work of art, is not fixed within irrevocable boundaries it has a future, it is able to be reinvented, reconceived, reconstructed, reimagined. And, consequently, it has enormous utility within historical investigation in general and Biblical exegesis or translation in particular. If, in the course of this discussion we have discovered that "Objectivity" is not as tidy as we supposed, or that Historical Investigation or Scholarly Consensus is not as impartial as we thought, what we have really discovered is the potential richness of historical truth once we give up our defensiveness and let the barbarians storm the citadel and embrace the fact that we are all barbarians. So the new cardinal virtue in this post-colonial situation is hospitality, rather than defensiveness. See this presentation of Deconstruction: http://www.cbc.ca/player/play/2469679158 Marijke, you said: "It is exactly the notion of "assumptions" that to my mind do not belong to the domain of historical research." That is very interesting. However, alas, impossible, as far as I know. Why? Because of the assumptions of which I am not aware. I can battle the assumptions I know are false and no longer assume them. But I would probably refuse to battle the ones I "know" to be true and unquestionable. And I cannot battle the ones that I assume with no awareness that I'm assuming. They are the citadel that the barbarians are storming. Like you, Marijke, I also was taught the liberal ethic of hospitality that provides a public pedagogy for the limiting assumptions of Christian faith when it comes to historical investigation. Jürgen Habermas is perhaps the most cogent proponent of this public (and scholarly) ethic. Here is a critique (by philospher Richard Kearney) of the religious assumptions of this ethic and a plea for a more messianic structure of hospitality that affirms the 'impossible,' "Translating Across Faith Cultures: Radical Hospitality." https://www.academia.edu/9578755/Translating\_Across\_Faith\_Cultures

Marijke, thanks for your kind response. I want to say again that I have great respect for the tradition of historical scholarship that seeks freedom from religious assumptions or from any other kind of assumptions. I also believe that there is no place for assumptions in critical scientific research. I think it is a legitimate critique to point out unproven assumptions. Unfortunately, assumptions bannished from the front door find their way in through other means. Perhaps we have gotten to the heart of the objectivity issue here in speaking of assumptions. I don't think anyone would go so far as to deny that "the public sphere" or "scholarly consensus" always, already has a host of assumptions baked into the cake, so to speak. That is, to say the least, because these are dominated by Western cultural assumptions. We just have to think of the metanarratives, the universalizing truths, the unquestionable liberal and modern dogmas such as "The Myth of Technological and Social Progress" and soon we find ourselves mired in a pseudo-historical and pseudo-scientific religious realm. Who's public? Which scholars? The difficulty is, how do we react to what is radicaly new and surprising? For Christians, the incarnation and the resurrection are neither translatable into public sphere terms as such. They are mysteries that, when they dawn on a person's heart, shake reality to its core, like the experience of the man blind from birth whom Jesus healed. How do we respect the Stranger (whether Christian or Muslim or Buddhist or whatever) in the public sphere without trying to translate him or her into "public sphere" terms? Habermas admits what is not translatable in religious convictions (what Habermas calls 'private reasons') only for functional, discursive purposes. The proviso being, always, that religious beliefs remain open to possibilities of further translation and assimilation into public sphere terms. But how do we respond to what Derrida and Benjamin call the "messianic"? The final aim cannot be (as Habermas asserted): to "completely assimilate, translate, rework and sublate all desirable religious content" into public sphere terms. For the Christian, the divine remains a transcendent Other who comes to us, a visitor from the outside our home (John 1:12), opening doors to novel events and inviting us to epiphanies 'never before dreamt of' in the public sphere ("we have seen his glory"). Here we must acknowledge, too, that the Christian sees the divine Other represented in the human Other. Secular reason in the public sphere finds it very difficult, even impossible, to account for an alterity that always remains unassimilable and inaccessible to its normative and normalizing grasp. Current events in the world show just how difficult. It may be able to welcome the Others as guest workers who are tolerated in so far as they surrender their irreducible uniqueness and difference; yet it will not really welcome people with strange gods. The public sphere does not have a host language that can respond to the "untranslatable kernel" at the heart of every guest language, what Kearney calls "the inimitable transcendence which puts us into question, shatters our self-security and opens us to the incoming Other." Of course one of the results of the exposure and welcoming of alterity is that universalizing assumptions held in the public sphere are quite regularly challenged by the encounter. What I have noticed about Biblical exegesis and translation in practice is that my original text shape-shifts and becomes radically different when I encounter the human Other and, for a moment of contained alterity, experience my self and my text as if through the eyes of the Other with radically different assumptions. In other words, the original text changes as I read it in the company of the Other. I don't mean that the markings on the page change in any way, of course. But the set of reading practices and mental habits that I call "the original text" takes on radiant, new meanings. That sometimes means giving up some part of what I have translated of my faith and reicorporated into myself from public sphere terms.

Thanks for the above, who have continued this discussion. Could I try and steer the discussion towards 'what to do about it'? My concern is that non-Western non-native-English communities be given enough wiggle room to do their own innovating. In practice, I would question that they can be given such as long as the funding is from the Western / native English communities. I don't believe that donors who 'supposedly' give money without strings can actually do so. For example: people involved in the translation will realise that there is advantage to be gained through their pleasing the donors, even when the donors aren't asking to be pleased. Yes, perhaps I am asking to some extent a rhetorical question. My own answer to my question is that translators must be 'immersed' in a language / culture that they are translating. This is because, sheer-economically, a translator from the West can stand 'above the fray'. This is because their income alternatives are real. I.e. the typical bible translator from the West could earn as much or more not translating the bible as they do translating the bible. In my understanding, non-Western people who are translating are typically earning a level of income that they could no longer earn should they loose favour with their bosses / donors. Secondly also, translation is done on a basis of an understanding of dualism, i.e. scholarly consensus of scholars who have a notion of objectivity. The non-Western non-native-English speaker can have difficulty engaging with that kind of debate without becoming the victim of rather than a participant in the debate. (I appreciate that I've here brought us back where we started from. I don't know how to get away from this!) That Spirit-filled prayerful Westerner is the means that God can use to bring 'Godectivity' in the place of objectivity to guide translations into non-Western languages.