The second-cycle discussion lands on the light box activity’s essential question: when we “see” something in an experiment, what exactly are we seeing—an objective feature of the world, or a community-stabilized interpretation shaped by instruments, scale, and expectation? The classroom transcript shows that this question did not remain abstract. It became embodied in the children’s insistence—urgent, almost physical—on re-checking the mirrors, re-running the looking, and pressing the teacher for a verdict: “Is that white real?” That moment is the philosophical core of the activity. The experiment is not only about color-mixing; it is about the status of an appearance that emerges from a setup that “shouldn’t” produce it (no white light was shone). The children are effectively asking: Is an emergent phenomenon legitimate evidence, or merely an illusion produced by imperfections?

This is where the Wittgenstein and Frege quotations become more than ornament: they describe two rival ideals of inquiry that the students oscillate between.

Wittgenstein: the virtue of the indistinct

Wittgenstein’s line—“Is it even always an advantage to replace an indistinct picture by a sharp one? Isn’t the indistinct one often exactly what we need?”—names what the light box demonstrates materially: vagueness isn’t always epistemic failure; sometimes it is the very condition of a stable phenomenon. In the books earlier framing, the “truth” that a white surface reports (e.g., under red light, it looks red) depends on diffuse reflection—on micro-roughness that mixes incident light rather than preserving perfectly separated rays. In that sense, whiteness (and “white-looking”) is not the absence of structure but the presence of extremely fine structure whose epistemic role is precisely to blur.

So the light box invites a reversal of the usual moral: instead of “imperfection contaminates truth,” we get “imperfection produces the phenomenon we rely on.” Under this lens, white is not a cheat; it is a real outcome of a real interaction between RGB light and scattering surfaces. The children’s question “is it real?” becomes: Do we count a phenomenon as real when it depends on vagueness? Wittgenstein’s answer, pedagogically enacted, is: often yes—because the indistinct is exactly what a form of life needs to perceive and coordinate around.

Frege: the demand for sharpness (and its hidden cost)

Frege’s microscope analogy pulls hard in the other direction: scientific goals demand “sharpness of resolution,” because ordinary seeing hides imperfections. In the excerpt of Frege represents the methodological impulse: replace everyday language with ideography; replace ordinary seeing with instrumented seeing; replace blurred boundaries with crisp ones. Shapiro’s framing (Frege as realist) matters here because it makes the sharpness-demand sound not merely practical but ontological: to be realistic is to be ever more resolved.

But the classroom data complicates that ideal. The students already believe—prior to what their eyes show—that magnification yields more “information,” more color, more reality. Their tacit epistemology is “zooming in = gaining truth.” This is, in miniature, the Fregean faith. Yet in the light box setup, increased resolution does not enrich the phenomenon; it destroys it. Magnification separates what vagueness had mixed; with only three source lights, separation yields fewer visible colors, not more. The teacher’s students’ confusion is philosophically productive: it exposes the dogma that sharper is always better, even when the phenomenon itself is scale-dependent and exists only as a product of blur.

So the tension isn’t simply “vagueness vs logic.” It’s sharper:

• Vagueness is not merely a defect to be eliminated; it is sometimes the mechanism by which a phenomenon becomes perceivable and communicable.
• Sharpness is not purely gain; it is a transformation that can erase exactly what matters at a human observational scale.

Community interpretation: the social life of “real”

This is why the opening claim—scientific theory as community interpretation—fits the transcript so well. The students do not just observe; they negotiate. They test each other’s claims, try tools (teacher glasses), and when tools fail they shift to imagination. The classroom becomes a micro-scientific community trying to decide what counts as evidence and what counts as “real.” The question “is that white real?” is not answered by the world alone; it is answered by the community deciding what sorts of dependence (on roughness, on scale, on instrument) disqualify reality and what sorts do not.

And here is the deeper synthesis between the quotes: Wittgenstein and Frege do not merely disagree about clarity. They disagree about the aim of inquiry.

• Wittgenstein warns that sharpening can be a loss when the “indistinct picture” is the one that organizes our successful practices.
• Frege insists that sharpening is a gain when scientific aims demand resolution beyond ordinary limits.

The light box episode shows that both are right, but about different goods—and this pedagogy makes the difference visible.

The dissertation’s implicit conclusion

So when the teacher asks, “why is demanding ever-more sharp resolutions realistic?”, The material supplies a strong answer:

Realism cannot simply mean “maximize resolution,” because reality is not accessed by a single monotonic ladder of magnification. Reality is structured across scales, and what is real at one scale (white as stable diffuse appearance) can be decomposed at another scale (separated colored reflections) without thereby being “exposed as fake.” What changes is not merely what we see, but what we are able to count as the phenomenon. The demand for sharpness is realistic only relative to a chosen aim—measurement, control, prediction at a certain scale—not as a universal virtue.

The light box activity therefore becomes a pedagogical argument: scientific seeing is not the elimination of vagueness, but the disciplined management of it—including knowing when blur is epistemically enabling and when it is epistemically obstructing. The students’ resistance—denying their senses in favor of the “magnification gives more information” belief—shows how deeply the sharpness-ideal is culturally installed. And the classroom struggle shows why teaching science is not just teaching facts; it is teaching criteria for what counts as a good representation.