A note on the value placed on knowledge of facts in the intellectual landscape.
I often find myself disparaging the high esteem placed on knowledge of facts in both popular and academic culture. It's considered a mark of erudition, which in part it is, but it so often seems taken to be the whole ballgame. "Serious" and "critical" conversations so often turn into jousting matches in which the winner will be the one who recalls the juiciest fact in support of their opinion.
In pop culture, knowledge of facts is a kind of currency in establishing street cred. In My Cousin Vinny, Marisa Tomei's character wins the day in court through her knowledge of cars. Ken Jennings and other successful contestants on Jeopardy! are acclaimed. Well they should be, I suppose; what they have floating around in their skulls can be astonishing.
But I want to argue that facts are only fodder for argumentation, reasoning, the generation of associations, and interpretation. They are the beginnings of insight, not its endpoint.
One has to be careful not to disparage the importance of facts, especially in the fact-challenged world we suddenly inhabit. I'm not going to be dealing with whether there are facts (I believe there are) or whether there are "alternative facts" (what does that even mean?). In fact, we can stipulate that the only facts I'd be interested in discussing in an essay on this topic are the correct ones, the real ones. What I want to get at is not the validity of the concept of a fact but the poverty of facts in establishing interesting conclusions without considerable additional reflection.
Another danger with this topic is that it risks seeming obvious. But so many disputes in public—and everyday—life come down to who's got their facts straight or who has the best facts (the best "evidence") to bring into the argument, that we could be left thinking that only facts matter. When that happens, the poverty of facts alone can seem far from obvious.