If teaching and learning are already linguistic, then the student who wants science still needs the arts that care for names, statements, and speeches. That is not a slight on the lab. It is an account of how the lab’s work enters a common mind at all.
Grammar, here, is how findings can be said: what the terms are doing, whether a sentence is even complete, whether the record is joined so that another person can read it as the same act. Logic is how those findings are ordered so that one claim follows from another, and so that a graph is not mistaken for a proof. Rhetoric is how they are offered to hearers who must be shown — a class, a journal, a public — and not merely handed a table.
None of this delays science. It is what a science already does whenever it is more than a solitary success. The student who can pipette but cannot say what was done has the motion of the art without the art’s public life.
The next pages state that foundation directly, from ordinary experiences of naming, misunderstanding, promising, and teaching a child a word. You can return to this path later. It has done its work if you now see why “begin from data” still leaves a first work undone.
Continue to Why we begin with words.