 famously remarked that the "map is not the territory". The concepts that we use to describe the world, i.e. our representations, always leave something behind. The desire to encompass infinitude only leads to absurdities (cf. Borges' ).
> A map is not the territory it represents, but, if correct, it has a similar
> structure to the territory, which accounts for its usefulness.
Nonetheless, some maps allow for action by preserving some structural similarity to the territory. Concerned with understanding these representations and their biological instantiations, Gregory Bateson centers the concept of difference:
> A difference is a very peculiar and obscure concept. It is certainly not a
> thing or an event. This piece of paper is different from the wood of this
> lectern. There are many differences between them—of color, texture, shape,
> etc.
Each element in the world asserts an infinitude of facts which cannot be represented on the map. Reading Kant's *Critique of Judgement*,  that the "elementary aesthetic act" is selection, selecting differences that can be represented on the map.
> Of this infinitude, we select a very limited number, which become
> information. In fact, what we mean by information—the elementary unit of
> information—is a difference which makes a difference, and it is able to make
> a difference because the neural pathways along which it travels and is
> continually transformed are themselves provided with energy.
Difference, in contrast to identity, is what allows us to create concepts to organize our observations.
Lack of information is uniformity. All objects are identical to each other, and hence indistinguishable. White noise—artifacts shimmering without difference that makes a difference. The introduction of difference gives us a bit of information. This is not like that; there are characteristics that separate. The blob of white noise has an edge, and hence some elements are internal and others form the boundary.
Exuberance is an overflowing of information. A book inside a chest in the last floor of an abandoned home is difference, but it is not difference that makes a difference. A librarian, professional or amateur, must distribute the book for it to resonate in the world.
The transmission of information through time or space is the mirroring of difference through time or space. A picture captures the difference apparent through color and location on the projective plane so that it can be re-transmitted in a different place. Hence, the medium of photography is a form of transmission of a set of differences legible to its technical mechanism of capture. Analogously, the phonograph is a means of transmission of sound waves—differences in distribution of particles in the air. The technical means of capturing some difference determines what difference is legible to be transmitted.
Preservation is transmission through an indeterminate amount of space and time. At these scales, the second law of thermodynamics begins to take effect—entropy increases in an isolated system. As such, information is erased. To preserve information is to counteract the law and maintain difference. A path is kept by walking along it, stifling the growth of weeds. Technology imitates this process: a lawnmower to trim the weeds, or pesticide to avoid their growth. Alternatively, a social system can lead to preservation: park rangers can prepare trails, which are then navigated by visitors, propelled by the tourism industry.
These practices establish ecologies of preservation. The lawn trimmings must be reused or disposed and the pesticides’ side effects must be accounted for. Similarly, tourist economies generate income to finance maintenance, while also producing waste and even over-consumption. These second-order effects must be folded into the practices, in order to continue to maintain difference.
