I recently noticed that words related to the passing on of knowledge tend to be built on a base consisting of the consonant combination r-d. The thought occurred to me when I came across the archaic English word rede, which means “counsel” or “advice”. I immediately made the connection to the German word reden, which means “to talk”. Reden is used much like its English counterpart, to refer to a substantive communication, often where advice or counsel is given. Think of the implication in a sentence like “We’ll talk when I get home.”
The other place that rede survives in modern English is in the poorly understood name of the 9th century Anglo-Saxon monarch of Wessex, Æthelred the Unready. His nickname does not mean “ill prepared” but rather “unadvised” or “lacking counsel” and is a play on words given that his actual name means “noble counsel.”
Following my usual process, I started thinking about other words built on the r-d model (and adjacent sounds like t and th) that related to communicating knowledge and made an amusing discovery related to the formulation “reading, writing and arithmetic.” At first glance this is simply an alliterative phrase tying together three skills one learns in school that, apparently randomly, share similar sounds.
But the similarities between these words are not the result of randomness; the connection between the consonant combination r-d and the idea of knowledge and this goes back to Proto-Indo European (PIE). The PIE root of both reading and writing is *red, meaning “to scratch or cut,” which brings to mind ancient forms of writing such as carving symbols into wood and bone, as with runic inscriptions. Arithmetic is a bit more complicated, as it comes to English from Greek, but the r-d (or in this case, r-th) base is clearly there, though some sources, such as the American Heritage Dictionary, trace it back to the PIE root *re(i).
At this point I found myself in a familiar place. I had uncovered an interesting and revealing PIE root and made connections to a complex of words that carried a concept forward from the darkness of the past.
But something bothered me. There is another cluster of words built around r-d, those coming from the PIE root *reidh from which we get ride, raid, road, ready, etc. This other cluster, and indeed the letter r itself, clearly relates to the concept of motion.
At first, I felt that these two different connotations, knowledge and motion, were discordant until the phrase “to read fluently” popped into my head and it all came together. The concept of “fluency” is one of motion and the knowledge-related words coming from the r-d root relate to the passing on of that knowledge. In other words, knowledge moves. From a different angle, a common way to refer to an intelligent person is to say they are “quick” or “quick witted.” Clearly, the concepts of knowledge and motion are intimately entwined.
This then, led me to Alan Watts’ explanation of the Dao as “a sort of rhythmic intelligence” (What is Tao?, page 37) which posits movement as being an intrinsic part of knowledge. Put differently, knowledge exists in order to be communicated, to be passed on and to flow back and forth between people, cultures and eras.