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Showing posts with label Language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Language. Show all posts

Wednesday, 13 August 2025

Seeing different word meanings

There are many words where the meaning looks like it should mean one thing, but actually have meanings that don't seem to match that impression... if you catch my drift. Words that appear to be apples, when they are in fact oranges.

I have a little list of works that often make me smile. For example:

  • Benchmark: crushed carpet, or floor marks caused by benches
  • Chancery: the act of taking a chance
  • Bemuse: to become someone's muse
  • Wizen: to become wise, or wizardish
  • Nonplussed: cannot be totalled
  • Cacophony: a chocolate telephone
  • Inkling: a small biro cartoon
  • Swordfish: catching fish with a sword 
  • Halitosis: having a toxic, sentient computer on your spaceship (Clarke, 1968). Actually, this last one is interesting. It sounds Latin-derived, and we assume it means bad breath... possibly arising from dental caries. However, apparently "there’s no such thing as halitosis. It was a made up medical condition coined by the owner of Listerine in the 1920s [...] , company owner Jordan Wheat Lambert decided to [...] market his product as a cure for bad breath. To convince the public that they needed Listerine, Lambert scoured the dictionary and happened upon an old Latin word meaning breath, halitus, which he decided to stylize as halitosis to make it sound like a legitimate medical condition" (Smallwood, 2018) running Listerine ads for hundred years.

There are many more where these came from. There is nothing like having a bit of fun, in seeing the ridiculous in our own language.


Sam

References:

Clarke, A. C. (1968). 2001: A space odyssey. Hutchinson.

Smallwood, K. (2018, April 18). 10 Words That Don’t Really Mean Anything. Top 10s. https://www.toptenz.net/10-words-that-dont-really-mean-anything.php

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Friday, 18 July 2025

Keyboarding macrons for Te Reo

In Aotearoa there are three official languages: English, sign and Māori. In Te Reo Māori, we indicate how long the vowel - the 'standard' English five of a e i o u - is by using a diacritical - in this case, a macron. Some of us will put in Microsoft Office auto-corrects so that a word keyed in without a macron will correct to a word with a macron: others will simply copy the word from a repository to ensure that the Reo is correct.

However, there is a slightly easier way (and it is only slightly easier): we can set up a Māori keyboard (Deitsch, 2021). What we do is:

  1. Click on the language icon on our taskbar (e.g. "ENG"), selecting "Language Preferences" from the pop-up menu
  2. Under the "Preferred languages" area, select "Add a language" and key in "Maori". Select the Te Reo Māori option
  3. Then click "Next" and "Install" (Deitsch, 2021).
Once we have installed the Māori language option, we can then switch between keyboards by clicking on the taskbar language to switch to Te Reo Māori (i.e. change from "ENG" to "MRI"). And from there, we can create our macron vowels by keying the "`", or the grave diacritical key (which is the lower case option on the tilde key), letting go, then keying our vowel (Deitsch, 2021). 

So to restate with an example: key `then a = ā

Deitsch (2021) also notes that sometimes when switching between keyboards, the macron may take two goes to action. We just need to bear with it. 

A solution of sorts: and if anyone has any other, truly easier solutions, I would love to hear them!


Sam

References:

Deitsch, R. (2021, September 10). How To Type Latin Macrons (The Easy Way). Livia. https://booksnbackpacks.com/how-to-type-latin-macrons/

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Monday, 2 June 2025

More on catchphrases

Our family were collectors of catch phrases from popular media which somehow managed to anchor in our collective psyche. As we have created our own families, those habits have endured. I have written about catchphrases before (here), but that post reminded me about our family habit, and I began to note some favourites as I encountered them. I have collected some of these phrases in this post. 

Such as this line from The Castle where the Kerrigan family are served rissoles at the dinner table: "Yeah, but it's what you do with it" (Sitch, 1997, 11:23). I always impute a 'darl' onto the end of that particular line, although the 'darl' occurs in the earlier exploration of the sponge cake "What d'you call that, darl?" (2:40). Not to mention the classic place to store precious presents from the family: "This is going straight to the pool room" (8:20), "Looks like everybody's kicked a goal" (18:06) about seasoning on chicken, and "We're going to Bonny Doon" (23:36). 

I also love the phrase "A fish goes rotten from it's head" (from the Turkish, "the fish stinks first at the head", Porter, 1768, p. 27). Why? Because it implies that as the leaders are, so shall the followers be. Good leadership will inspire good followership. A stink will create a stink throughout. 

"I love it when a plan comes together" (Hasburgh & Cannell, 1983). Ah, the A Team. Gone but not forgotten.

Which leads me to "Ah, it's the old [XXX] trick" from Get Smart (Stern & Sultan, 1965-1970); the "cone of silence" (which morphed into the 'cone of shame' for pet post-op self-harm prevention); and "Sorry about that, chief" the latter being our father's favourite stock phrase. 

Then there was the Fabergé organics shampoo: the ad which had Heather Locklear saying "I told two friends about it, and they told two friends, and so on, and so on, and so on" while the screen divided into two, four, eight, sixteen and so on Heathers (ewjxn, 2020, 0:07). 

Or how about "Thunderbirds are GO!" (Anderson, 1966). Nothing like telling people that, to galvanise us all: darned near sixty years on.

And then there is the often mis-quoted opening crawl from the first Star Wars movie, "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....", which I always remember as long, long "ago, in a galaxy far, far away...." (Lucas, 1977). 

Not to mention from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life, John Cleese's French Maitre'D character offering Terry Jones's Mr Creosote: "And finally, monsieur, a wafer-thin mint" (Monty Python, 2025), before Mr Creosote explodes, first verbally, then physically. 

And the Life of Brian (1979). So many to choose from here! John Cleese as a Roman Centurion "Wha's this then" and proceeds to give Brian a Latin grammar lesson (24:47). Mandy, mother of Brian, saying "He's not the messiah! He's a very naughty boy!" (1:05:34). "Only the true Messiah denies His divinity!" Brian retorts "What?! Well, what sort of chance does that give me? All right! I am the Messiah!" whereupon his followers say "He is! He is the Messiah!"(1:01:50). And finally, where Eric Idle sings "Some things in life are bad, they can really make you mad; and other things just make you swear and curse. When you are chewing on life's gristle; don't grumble, give a whistle! And this'll make things turn out for the best -" (1:29:43).

"...and always look on the bright side of life" (1:30:04).


Sam

References:

Anderson, S. (1966). Thunderbirds Are Go [puppet film]. Century 21 Productions.

ewjxn. (2020, March 4). 1984 Fabergé Organics shampoo "Heather Locklear told two friends" TV Commercial [video]. YouTube. https://youtu.be/Hyxmj1Yf6Dk

Hasburgh, P. (Producer), & Cannell, S. J. (Writer). (1983). The A-Team Series 1 [Lt.Col. John "Hannibal" Smith catchphrase]. NBC.

Jones, T. (1979). Life of Brian [film]. HandMade Films; Python (Monty) Pictures.

Lucas, G. (Writer, Director). (1977). Star Wars [Episode IV: A New Hope]. Lucasfilm.

Monty Python. (2025). The Meaning of Life Script - Part VI: The Autumn Years. http://www.montypython.50webs.com/scripts/Meaning_of_Life/10.htm

Porter, J. (1768). Observations on the Religion, Law, Government, and Manners, of the Turks (Vol 1.). J. Norse Bookseller.

Sitch, R. (Director). (1997). The Castle [film]. Working Dog Productions.

Stern, L. B. (Executive Producer), Sultan, A. (Executive Producer, 1968–70). (1965-1970). Get Smart [TV Series, 1-5]. Talent Associates; CBS Productions.

Wikipedia. (2025). Monty Python's Life of Brian. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monty_Python's_Life_of_Brian

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Friday, 23 May 2025

A tax on hope

I read a great phrase last year that lotteries were a tax on hope. So I tried to find out where that came from. However, it proved to be a very tricky phrase to track to the source.

A GoogleScholar search found a number of articles which used the phrase, including:

"lottery tickets are like a tax on hope: secretly we all dream of winning the jackpot, and when we don’t, we feel cheated or unlucky" (Iñiguez, 2023, p. 48-49)

That while governments have a range of tools to raise capital, a "common factor remained cashing in on gambling to generate revenue" with the "state as gaming house keeper" which could then "lev[y] a 'tax on hope'" (Zollinger, 2016, p. 35); with a footnote "This notion, however, was usually applied to lotteries" (p. 35)

"State-run lotteries are sometimes referred to as a 'stealth' tax, a 'tax on hope,' or a 'tax on the poor.' A breakdown of the revenue distribution from each ticket shows that a significant percentage is almost always taxed by the state" (Hadzi-Miceva-Evans, 2009, p. 77). Sadly, the footnote for the quote points us to a rotten link (Hansen, 2005)

Lottery ticket sales are ubiquitous in Italy, with Italians considering "them as a sort of tax on hope [...] and we all have hope" (Waugh, 1997, 692)

US magazine, Taxes, explained that charging citizens taxes based on their future share returns was a "tax on hope" (Richard, 1957, p. 818).  

So the earliest I found was the 1950s. I was so sure there must be earlier appearances: largely because this phrase sounds so very Victorian. That kind of judgy-holier-than-thou sanctimony that people in long skirts can carry off so effectively. Interestingly, it seems that "the more states [or governments] need money, the more tolerant they are of gambling" (Zollinger, 2016, p. 35); presumably as that means to raise funds which are outside the income or GST/VAT system. Those who gamble may not think through to the logical end: that state-sanctioned gambling is still a form of taxation; instead, gamblers see it as a 'chance'. 

However, I think my desire to associate the phrase with the Victorians is misplaced. It seems that the source may well be Bertrand Russell. While he was a Victorian baby (born in 1872), in 1951, he presented a talk to "the corporate customers" of a printing company called Hazell Watson & Viney, "comparing the reach of books to that of broadcasts" (Leal & Marraud, 2022, p. 2, citing Blackwell & Ruja, 1993, p. xxxix), hoping that:

The BBC's new "Third Programme [might] so stimulate the intellectual life of the nation that it will read more books than ever before. Let us hope so, since as yet there is no tax on hope" (Blackwell & Ruja, 1993, p. xxxix; Leal & Marraud, 2022, p. 2). The 'third programme' was an educational channel tasked with delivering science and factual information to the nation, funded by the taxpayer. So it appears that 'a tax on hope' may not have originally referred to lotteries, but to the use of public money to develop the intellect of the national UK population.

Bertrand Russell had such a gift for language that I am happy to attribute this fine phrase to him. Of course the saying may pre-date him: I will stay vigilant for an earlier version in print, but I feel that I may have found the originator

"I love it when a plan comes together" (Hasburgh & Cannell, 1983). 

 

Sam

References:

Blackwell, K., and Ruja, H. (1993). A bibliography of Bertrand Russell (Vol. I). Routledge.

Hadzi-Miceva-Evans, K. (2009). Lottery Proceeds as Tool for Support of Good Causes and Civil Society Organizations: A Fate or a Planned Concept. International Journal of Not-for-Profit Law, 12(4), 71-79. https://heinonline.org/HOL/P?h=hein.journals/ijnpl12&i=376

Hansen, A. (2005). Lotteries are another state tax—but with better marketing. The Tax Foundation. https://taxfoundation.org/lotteries-are-another-state-tax-better-marketing/

Hasburgh, P. (Producer), & Cannell, S. J. (Writer). (1983). The A-Team Series 1 [Lt.Col. John "Hannibal" Smith catchphrase]. NBC.

Iñiguez, S. (2023). Philosophy Inc: Applying Wisdom to Everyday Management. Palgrave Macmillan.

Richard, D. (1957). In This Issue. Taxes - The Tax Magazine, 35(11), 818-821. https://heinonline.org/HOL/P?h=hein.journals/taxtm35&i=838

Waugh, D. (1997). The Die is Cast. Canadian Medical Association, 156(5), 692. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC1232840/pdf/cmaj_156_5_692.pdf

Zollinger, M. (Ed.). (2016). Random Riches: Gambling past & present. Routledge.

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Friday, 14 March 2025

Lies, damned lies and statistics

It is fascinating how often we attribute things to people without checking. However, I know a few people who are SCRUPULOUS in checking. One is Garson O'Toole of Quote Investigator's fame (here), and the other is Michael Quinion of World Wide Words (here). WikiQuote is also reasonably accurate (here). 

My husband and I were talking about the coiner of the phrase "lies, damned lies, and statistics" recently, and he thought it was a saying of Mark Twain's, and I thought that Mark Twain had attributed it to someone else. In full, the unattributed quote is "There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics". 

I consulted the first of my three gurus: Garson O'Toole (actually the pseudonym for Professor Gregory F. Sullivan). A quick search showed that Mark Twain in 1895 had attributed the saying to former British PM, Benjamin Disraeli (O'Toole, 2022). However, the quote was not found in any of Disraeli's works, despite so much of Mr Disraeli's work having been formalised in writing. Undeterred from the lack of evidence, Garson O'Toole (2022) did a thorough search and found that one T. Mackay, in a letter to the editor of The National Observer on 8 June 1891, said "It has been wittily remarked that there are three kinds of falsehood: the first is a ‘fib,’ the second is a downright lie, and the third and most aggravated is statistics" (Mackay, 1891), which is pretty close to the quote as we know it today. 

Neither WikiQuote nor Michael Quinion had any dates earlier than 8 June 1891, so O'Toole (2022) seems to offer the earliest evidence. However, it sounds to me from Mr Mackay's letter that the witticism may have already been in relatively common usage in June of 1891 (NB: the usually utterly accurate Quote Investigator noted the date of Mr Mackay's letter as 13 June when it was the 8th). So the saying "lies..." etc is older than 8 June 1891. It was not created by Mark Twain: he reused it four years later. On another continent. And attributed it to a famous person: PM Benjamin Disraeli (as we so often do today, attributing to a famous person), but that attribution may not have been accurate enough

Evidence may be found that Mr Disraeli may indeed be the originator; but we lack evidence for that right now. We do have evidence that the first person currently having recorded it in writing was Mackay (1891).

It will be interesting to see what other sources are found as time goes by. Hopefully we may find the originator :-)


Sam

References:

Mackay, T. (1891, June 13). National Pensions [Letters to the Editor]. The National Observer, 6(134), p. 93. https://archive.org/details/sim_the-national-observer-and-british-review-of-politics_1891-06-13_6_134/page/93/mode/1up

Quinion, M. (2025). Search. World Wide Words. https://worldwidewords.org/search.htm

O'Toole, G. (2022, June 22). Quote Origin: There Are Three Kinds of Lies: Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics. Quote Investigator. https://quoteinvestigator.com/2022/06/22/lies-statistics/

Wikiquote. (2025). Home. https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Main_Page

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Wednesday, 5 March 2025

Thanks by way of a chocolate fish

Oh: why do we Kiwis award a chocolate fish as a thank you? Well, giving a small token of thanks - koha - for a job well done is a Kiwi cultural thing. And we have gotten into the habit of making that small token ...a chocolate fish. 

It is "given (literally or figuratively) as a reward for a job well done; as in 'Good on ya, mate. You deserve a chocolate fish' " (Auckland Doctors, 2013, p. 3). Hingston reports that this particular "fish is very special in New Zealand culture. It is about 10 cm (4 inches) long and made of pink marshmallow covered in chocolate [which] are often used as rewards for good ideas or forfeits for bets and all Kiwis understand the expressions ‘give him a chocolate fish’ or ‘you owe me a chocolate fish’" (2009, p. 37).

It isn't quite a literal chocolate fish - as Hingston (2009) notes, it is a chocolate covered marshmallow fish - pictured alongside made by Queen Anne. Once made by Cadbury's - with, to my mind, nastily squishy marshmallow and very sweet milk chocolate - the best ones are made by Queen Anne, the original Christchurch firm. Their chocolate fish come in many different flavours, dark, milk and white chocolate, and - providing you like a nice, firm marshmallow - they are delicious. Check out the website - here - to order some of their delicious range (the boysenberry and peppermint flavours are my faves!).

One organisation I work for makes the giving of a chocolate fish literal - they have a 'chocolate fish nomination' which the recipient can redeem at the organisation cafe (or swap out for something of equivalent value). In my online courses, I publicly award a metaphorical chocolate fish, announcing it to reward exemplary behaviour, or eagle-eyed error-spotting.

The earliest mention of 'chocolate fish' in the media, via a quick search at the National Library of New Zealand, appears to be in 1903, in the Auckland Star. Many things were made of chocolate were advertised for sale by H M S Smeaton Ltd of Queen Street, including a chocolate creel and fish. Amongst a number of other ads, I also found a sweet (ha) Christmas story about a "Little Prince" in the Lyttelton Times, where the authors related that "the chocolate fish tied up in silver paper had a flavour about them that no chocolates out of a bonbonniere could have — a subtle flavour" (Askew & Askew, 1914). I was also quite taken by the notice: "Fishing at the mouth of the Rangitata recently, a fine fish weighing 12lbs was landed. Later, many not quite so big were also bagged. Another party working north of the Saltwater Creek landed a fine line of chocolate fish, and other dainties, to be seen at 'The Regent' Confectionery Store and Stall near Grand Pictures" (Timaru Herald, 1924). With the newspaper being able to poke fun via chocolate fish, I think we can safely say that chocolate fish were already common in New Zealand by 1924.

While The Chocolate Fish Company (2024) suggest the fame of chocolate fish grew at the hands of Richard Hudson of Cadbury Schweppes Hudson (see here for more), if so, there is no record of it in the media. It seems that chocolate fish landed in Aotearoa earlier than Hudson's enterprise in the early 20th century, and were well schooled before the advent of the Cadburys joint venture.

But what about the chocolate fish use as koha? Well, an early report of "a chocolate fish for a reward for 'a job well done'" is reported by The Chocolate Fish Company, where "20 dancers [...] were rewarded with large chocolate fish" (The Chocolate Fish Company, 2024, citing the Evening Post, 26 September 1933). However, I found an earlier mention, where a fourteen year old boy before the courts for theft explained to the judge that the plaintiff - a shop owner - had "asked me to mind the shop, [and] gave me a chocolate fish for minding it" (Auckland Sun, 1927). It appears that giving chocolate fish as a thank you was already a thing by 1927, and needed no further explanation of either the chocolate fish, or the giving of it. It should also be noted that the defendant had also helped himself, in addition to the fish, to "two packets of chewing-gum and about 9s in cash" (Auckland Sun, 1927). Ouch. Perhaps a chocolate fish was simply a token of appreciation, even then.

But what I still need to find out is: why a chocolate fish?


Sam

References:

Auckland Star. (1903, April 7). Public Notices: The Latest Novelty. Auckland Star, 34(83), 2, column 3. 2https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AS19030407.2.22.3

Auckland Sun. (1927, June 18). Idle Hands: Boys Turned Burglars. Auckland Sun, 1(74), p. 1. https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19270618.2.22

Askew, A., & Askew, C. (1914, December 30). The Little Prince. Lyttelton Times, 115(16746), p. 11

Auckland Doctors. (2013). Kiwi Words and Phrases. http://www.aucklanddoctors.co.nz/media/50118/kiwi_words_and_phrases.pdf

Hingston, J. (2009). Afghans, Barbecues & Chocolate Fish: The ABC of Kiwi food. Hachette New Zealand Ltd.

Queen Anne. (2025). Chocolate fish [image]. https://queenanne.co.nz/collections/chocolate-fish

The Chocolate Fish Company. (2024). Chocfishtory: The History of Chocolate Fish. https://chocfish.co.nz/pages/fishtory

Timaru Herald. (1924, March 17). Notice "Fishing at the mouth". Timaru Herald, 98(18084), p. 9. https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/THD19240317.2.51

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Friday, 31 January 2025

Undermind and underground

There are two authors who talk about getting underneath their writing, surprisingly, in two somewhat similar ways. Those authors are Stephen King and Enid Blyton.

Stephen King, who - in the novel, Bag of Bones (1998) - created a central character who was experiencing a terrible case of writer's block. The protagonist talks about "the boys in the basement" as "an old trick from my writing days. Work your body, rest your mind, let the boys in the basement do their jobs" (King, 1998, p. 120). We let our consciousness get on with other functions while our "under mind" (Blyton, 1952, p. 81) freewheels in the depths, and Lo! Suddenly the answer, the connection, the inspiration comes to us. Giving licence to the "boys in the basement" allows our creativity to rise.  

The "under mind" mentioned by Blyton above was more fully explained by Druce (1992):

"In 1953 Peter McKellar, later to be Professor of Psychology at the University of Otago, New Zealand, approached Enid Blyton in the course of research for his book, Imagination and Thinking (1957). During the next five years she wrote in all nine letters to him, describing how her imagery had begun in childhood in what she called her 'thoughts' or 'night stories', narrative visions which came to her in bed at night when she shut her eyes and let her mind 'go free'. Her childhood 'thoughts', while not night-dreams, were closely allied to conventional daydreams" which were "stories about myself, of course - and I did brave deeds .. .. I had many adventures, the favourite of which was being wrecked on an island somewhere, and having to do as Robinson Crusoe did and make a home for myself. Sometimes it was in a tree, sometimes it was in a cave" (Druce, 1992, p. 25; also Blyton, 1952). 

When "establishing the characters for a story, they would 'walk about' in her head, take over her dreams and 'give her little rest until she got back to her typewriter the following day (Druce, 1992, p. 26). Blyton clearly differentiated her "under mind" process from the scrambled reality of normal dreaming: her under mind imaginings were coherent, plotted and she was the spectator (Stoney, 1974, p. 134). 

"McKellar's associationist theory postulates that the content of unconscious imagery is entirely made up of memories of past experiences: that in appearing to 'imagine' we are in fact recollecting and rearranging past perceptions. Enid Blyton was highly sympathetic towards McKellar's thesis, convinced as she was that her unconscious mind was a store of everything that she had ever seen or heard, of things her conscious mind had 'long forgotten', and that all that she 'imagined' was in some way drawn from that store, modified, fragmented, and recombined. 'All the odd bits and pieces' of her life and thoughts and reading, she felt, sank down into her 'undermind' and 'simmered there, waiting for the time when they would be needed again for a book' ; then they would reappear, 'changed, transmuted, made perfect, finely-wrought - quite different from when they were packed away' (Druce, 1992, p. 26; also Blyton, 1952). Very often a conscious memory would break through, and then she would recognize 'things thrown up from [her] undermind, transmuted and changed - a castle seen long ago, a dog, a small child, words long forgotten - in a new setting'" (Druce, 1992, p. 26; Stoney, 1974, p. 205).

Interesting that two influential 20th century writers draw from a cool, deep well of similar metaphor.


Sam

References:

Blyton, E. (1952). The story of my life. Grafton.

Druce, R. (1992). This day our daily fictions. An Enquiry into the Multi-Million Bestseller Status of Enid Blyton and Ian Fleming. Radopi B.V.

King, S. (1998). Bag of Bones. Scribner.

Stoney, B. (1974). Enid Blyton: The biography (2006 ed., reprint 2011). Tempus Publishing Ltd.

read more "Undermind and underground"

Friday, 27 December 2024

Fish go rotten from the head

To help to ensure good governance, boards need "both competence and sufficient diversity around the boardroom table" (Garratt, 2010, p. xv), carefully working through "the necessary balances, competences, evaluations and learning needed to ensure more healthy organizations in future - to stop the fish rotting from the head" (pp. xv-xvi). The governance board is considered to be the 'head' of the organisation; the setter of externally-focused strategy, big picture thinking, direction, vision and values (Garratt, 2010). The body of the organisation is the staff and management, who look to internally-focused tactics and management, operational thinking, mission, tasks and actions. If the head is good, the fish will be sweet: that sound, measured leadership should lead to sound strategy. However, if the head is bad, the 'fish' will be rotten; that poor leadership leads to poor strategy... and thus the fish has gone rotten from its head. 

This saying is a metaphor for allocating responsibility to where the power actually lies, I feel. The body is not powerful: the head is. 

It is thought the "fish rots from the head" saying, so commonly used in governance circles (Garratt, 2010), comes from the Turkish:

"The Turks have a homely proverb applied on such occasions: they say 'the fish stinks first at the head,' meaning that if the servant is disorderly, it is because the master is so" (Porter, 1768, p. 27).

It is interesting that in 250 years there has been little drift: that the current, commonly-held meaning remains close to that of Porter (1768). Further, it is suggested that the Turkish poet, Rumi, published this adage in 1273 as a "Fish begins to stink at the head, not the tail" (Martin, 2023; Pearson, 2022), but I have not sighted the original, so cannot attest to the veracity!

But I do like the saying. Evocative :-)


Sam

References:

Garratt, B. (2010). The Fish Rots from the Head: Developing effective board directors (3rd ed.). CPI Bookmarque Ltd.

Martin, G. (2023, December 11). A fish rots from the head down. Phrase Finder. https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/fish-rot-from-the-head-down.html

Pearson. (2022, May 18). The Fish Rots from the Head – Meaning, Origin and Usage. https://english-grammar-lessons.com/the-fish-rots-from-the-head-meaning/

Porter, J. (1768). Observations on the Religion, Law, Government, and Manners, of the Turks (Vol 1.). J. Norse Bookseller.

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Monday, 4 November 2024

Bump of Language

A phrenological diagram (Combes, 1934,
p. 20, citing Dolci, 1562)

Despite having done languages at secondary school, I sadly do not have a "bump of language" 😭. Five years of French and Japanese tutoring was no match for my lack of linguistic skill.

I am not a dilettante, falling at the first hurdle; I certainly did try. I also thought that perhaps it was that the two languages I was taught may have been simply those which I was most unsuited for. I have since tried Russian, German, and Maori. I am pretty evenly crap at all of them.

I can remember individual words, I can generally 'hear' the sounds reasonably accurately (except for the tonal languages like Mandarin) and mimic them, but for the life of me, I cannot conjugate a non-English verb anywhere, anyhow. By the time I have worked out how to say "I said" the conversation has moved on to something completely unrelated... and that probably happened ten minutes ago.

So I don't have a bump of language. And that got me thinking about where that saying, a "bump of language" came from. I assumed it was probably from phrenology, but have no idea where I had picked it up from. However, a quick search found the source online at Project Gutenburg, in the second memoir of Canadian author, Susanna Moodie: "Life in the Clearings versus the Bush" (1853) where the author recalls, towards the end of chapter 4:

"going with my husband to hear the lectures of a [US hypnotist and probable charlatan] Professor R---" who charged "two dollars for examining a head phrenologically, and drawing out a chart", as well as hypnotising various people in the audience. Professor R chose "a man who had lectured a few nights before on the science of mnemonics, and had been disappointed in a very scanty attendance".

The author noted that "the new subject yielded very easily to the professor's magic passes, and fell into a profound sleep". Professor R led the mnemonics scientist "with his eyes shut, to the front of the stage, and pointed out to the spectators the phrenological development of his head; he then touched the bump of language, and set the seeming automaton talking. But here the professor was caught in his own trap. After once setting him going, he of the mnemonics refused to hold his tongue until he had given, to his weary listeners, the whole lecture he had delivered a few nights before. He pranced to and fro on the platform, declaiming in the most pedantic voice" for an hour before shutting up. "It was a droll scene: [...] the declaimer pretending to be asleep, and wide awake all the time -- and the thin, long-faced American, too wise to betray [the subject], but evidently annoyed beyond measure at the trick [...] played [on] him".

A bump of language. An old phrase indeed. 


Sam

References:

Goodreads. (2024). Life in the Clearings versus the Bush [review]. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/496350.Life_in_the_Clearings_versus_the_Bush

Moodie, S. (1853). Life in the Clearings versus the Bush. https://www.gutenberg.org/files/8132/8132-h/8132-h.htm

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Wednesday, 28 August 2024

The interrobang

The name of this diacritical is a new one on me: the interrobang, the conflation of a question mark, and an exclamation mark. Once you know what it is, the name makes total sense: asking a rhetorical question, including the shock that this [idea, proposal, action] could even be suggested. Proposed by ad man Martin K. Speckter in a 1962 TYPEtalks magazine article, this diacritical was called interrobang as a conflation of the Latin, 'interrogatio', (i.e. rhetorical question/cross-examination), and the printer's 'bang', or exclamation mark (99 Percent Invisible, 2018).

The interrobang will rarely be used in academic writing as it carries with it a wealth of emotion. It is not an objective and balanced piece of punctuation: it carries a WTF indicator (also not generally used in academic writing 😂). Interrobangs tend to be used in marketing and social media as two discrete pieces of punctuation (?!) as opposed to the interrobang itself, which is a single character (‽).

There are circumstances when we may use the interrobang in academic writing though: when we are either drawing on, or reporting verbatim the words of others. We may, for example, use it in content analyses, findings, reporting actual interviewees words, and possibly in literature review quotes.

Interestingly, the interrobang is also used in chess, "to represent a dubious move, one that is questionable but possibly has merits" (Wikipedia, 2024). Interesting how the meaning has already shifted in chess from a straight out dumb idea to focusing more on the shock end.

It is not only language that is fascinating: diacriticals are too!


Sam

References:

99 Percent Invisible. (2018, July 10). Episode 314: Interrobang. https://99percentinvisible.org/episode/interrobang/

Wikipedia. (2024a). Interrobang. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interrobang

Wikipedia. (2024b). Proposed Interrobangs [Creative Commons 3.0 image]. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Proposed-interrobangs-from-type-talks-march-april-1962-drawn-by-jack-lipton-of-martin-k-speckter-associates-inc-iaqgraphicdesign.png

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Wednesday, 3 July 2024

The word 'tracklements'

I heard of the word 'tracklements' in a Terry Pratchett Discworld book some years ago, and was quite taken with it (2007, 2009, 2014). According to the great Michael Quinion of World Wide Words (2001) the term first appeared in print relatively recently, in Dorothy Hartley's 1954 tome, "Food in England". The implication is that tracklements are accompaniments for meat; specifically - in Ms Hartley's writing - as support flavours fitting with mutton. She explains that rosemary 'works' with sheep meat as it is akin to bay leaves, before continuing with an exposition on red currant jelly:

"Since the earliest times red-currant jelly has been served with mutton. There is the same dual flavour in an orange. The orange essential oil aroma is in the yellow rind; the flavour in the juice. So you rub off the rind as well as the juice to get the aroma as well as the flavour" (Hartley, 1954, p. 161). Over the page, the explanation continues: "...and for most of the valley breeds of mutton it [red currant jelly] is still the best. Gloucestershire, Oxfordshire, Leicestershire, Shropshire, and all such breeds take red-currant jelly. To the east—Leicester and Norfolk and the uplands— an excellent jelly can be made from the barberry. It is slightly more acid and tart than the red currant, and seems to suit the meat better. The jelly for Welsh and mountain mutton should be the rowan or mountain ash" (p. 162). On the final page, we get "(The very delicately flavoured mountain mutton is lost under the stronger tart red currant.) The subtle, slightly smoky flavour of the rowan suits its own climate and locality very much better. Rowan jelly is more golden than red-currant but is equally clear. The berries are ripe from October onwards, as soon as they hang down. With the rather dull winter mutton of the garden lands, hot onion sauce is very comforting. The salt-marsh mutton, or saltings mutton, should be served with hot laver sauce. This is gathered on the sea-coast between tides (see Laver). It is sold ready-prepared in many places: Mother Yeo’s shop in Bideford, in shops in Exeter, markets in Devon, Cornwall and South Wales. Samphire grows on the cliffs (though why Shakespeare referred to gathering samphire as a 'dread calling' only a Warwickshire man knows). It grows on the golf-course at Westward Ho! It is pungent, strongly aromatic, and brings out the flavour of the saltings perfectly. Caper sauce is served with any of the sturdier types of garden mutton. In default of the imported caper, pickled nasturtium seeds are good" (p. 163)

Commenting on Ms Hartley's book, Terry Pratchett is quoted as saying that "This is not [simply] a book of recipes but [one that] celebrates food, the history of food and almost, you might say, the philosophy of food. It changes the way you think; the article about tracklements is particularly wonderful. You don't know what a tracklement is? The answer is" in Food in England (Hachette UK, 2024). Terry Pratchett himself used 'tracklements', first as a name for dog biscuits in Making Money (2007, p. 125), then in Unseen Academicals (2009, p. 22-23), detailing the fixation of hungry senior academics in the common room at Unseen University (UU) listening anticipatedly for the tea trolley:

"‘What? Oh, that. Well, yes. Indeed. Well done, that man,’ said Ridcully, and the wizards commenced that slow handclapping and table-thumping which is the mark of appreciation amongst men of a certain age, class and girth, accompanied by cries of ‘Ver’, ver’ well done, that man!’ and ‘Jolly good!’ But eyes stayed firmly fixed on the doorway, and ears strained for the rattle of the trolley, which would herald the arrival of the new girl and, of course, one hundred and seven types of cheese, and more than seventy different varieties of pickles, chutneys and other tracklements. The new girl might be the very paradigm of beauty, but UU was not the place for a man who could forget his cheeses".

And later, in Mrs. Bradshaw's Guide, with the narrator relating the following: 

"On a recent journey [...] I was seated next to an elderly gentleman who unpacked from his case several bottles of different patent medicines for digestive disorders. Having dosed himself he tucked a brightly coloured napkin into his collar and proceeded to balance on his knee a fine china tureen in which were assembled a brace of pig’s trotters, half a dozen pickled eggs, pickled onions, pickled plums, a small mountain of pickled red cabbage, a selection of chutneys and several types of mustard. The gentleman who offered this vinegary selection to his neighbours revealed that his lady wife ran her own pickling business and he was a martyr to her stock control system. It seems that any preserve approaching the end of its edible life was put in his packed lunch that he might share it among fellow travellers and thus introduce potential customers to the delights of Mrs Staines’s Tracklements" (2013, p. 29).

Tracklements. What a gorgeously evocative term.


Sam

References:

Hartley, D. (1954). Food in England. Macdonald General Books.

Hachette UK. (2024). Food in England. https://www.hachette.co.uk/titles/dorothy-hartley/food-in-england/9780349430096/

Pratchett, T. (2007). Making Money. Doubleday/Transworld. 

Pratchett, T. (2009). Unseen Academicals. Doubleday/Transworld. 

Pratchett, T. (2013). Mrs Bradshaw's Guide. Doubleday/Transworld. 

Quinion, M. (2001, March 10). Tracklements. World Wide Words. https://www.worldwidewords.org/qa/qa-tra1.htm

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Friday, 21 June 2024

Catchphrases

We use catchphrases as social shorthand to convey meaning, and to create connection (Harris et al., 2008). Catchphrase was beautifully detailed by Mackay (1841, 1892), who said: "walk where we will, we cannot help hearing from every side a phrase repeated with delight, and received with laughter, by men with hard hands and dirty faces, by saucy butcher-lads and errand-boys, by loose women, by hackney-coachmen, cabriolet-drivers, and idle fellows who loiter at the corners of streets. Not one utters this phrase without producing a laugh from all within hearing. It seems applicable to every circumstance, and is the universal answer to every question; in short, it is the favourite slang of the day, a phrase that, while its brief season of popularity lasts, throws a dash of fun and frolicsomeness over [our] existence" (p. 240). Got to love those loose women. 

It was always a thing in our family to remember trite straplines and catchphrases from popular culture: whether the source is movies, TV shows, and advertising. We then pepper our conversation - often inappropriately - with them. Many of our family favourites have long legs indeed, surviving forty plus years. For example, the response to a recent purchase "yeah, but it's a Clayton's one" (i.e., fake; Wikipedia, 2024a); in response to needing to find some information while talking to family, responding "one moment caller" (scripted American-style responses used by Telecom NZ - co-owned by AT&T and Bell Atlantic, and often miss-pitched in the early 1980s - we use this as a filler for ANY pause while we rummage); and, in response to "what's for dinner?", the response "lots of Noodles!" (which was an instant noodles product. The brand itself is lost to the mists of time).

We also tend to reply to infomercial straplines in a catch and response way with "send no money now, we will bill you!" and "But wait, there's more!". While Culley (2022) suggests that the latter of these two catch phrases is QUITE old indeed - having arisen in the USA in 1949, in preparing a television ad for Vitamix blenders - when I viewed the ad itself, neither catchphrase is in the ad. I was unable to find any reference dated earlier than 1977; finding a Fossil magazine ad in Scientific American for "send no money now" (Lester, 1977). However, Script to Screen (2021) suggests that both "But wait, there's more!" and "send no money now, we will bill you" both arose from the Ginsu knives ad (Culley, 2022; The Museum of Classic Chicago Television, 2012; Wikipedia, 2024b), which is where my family remembers these two catchphrases from. It seems quite possible that "send now money now" was already a stock phrase. However, I think it was Ginsu's ad which popularlised the "how much would you pay?" and the "well, we will send you six precision steak knives for FREE!" (The Museum of Classic Chicago Television, 2012).

See below for the 1949 Vitamix ad, and the 1980 Ginsu knife ad.

Language is a fascinating thing.


Sam

References:

Culley, T. (2022). “But wait! There’s more.” Papa Bernard and the First TV infomercial. Academia Letters, 2022(1), 4676, 1-5. https://doi.org/10.20935/AL4676

Harris, R. J., Werth, A. J., Bures, K. E., & Bartel, C. M. (2008). Social movie quoting: What, why, and how?. Ciencias Psicologicas, 2(1), 35-45. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/260458479_Social_movie_quoting_What_why_and_how

Lester, H. A. (1977). The response to acetylcholine. Scientific American, 236(2), 106-120. https://doi.org/10.1038/scientificamerican0277-106

Mackay, C. (1841). Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions (reprinted 1892). Richard Bentley.

Script to Screen. (2021, May 27). Infomercial. https://www.scripttoscreen.com/infomercial/

The Museum of Classic Chicago Television. (2012, February 3). The Ginsu (Commercial Offer, 1980) [video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6wzULnlHr8w

Vitamix. (2021, June 18). Original 1949 Vitamix Infomercial - Papa Barnard [video]. YouTube. https://youtu.be/Rm5IzzGPzQA

Wikipedia. (2024a). Claytons. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claytons

Wikipedia. (2024b). Ginsu. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ginsu

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Friday, 10 February 2023

Why a monkey wrench?

I was pondering the other day, why is a monkey wrench called a monkey wrench in common parlance? And is that the ‘proper’ name, or slang? And are there different names for this piece of kit in other countries? My husband calls this tool a pipe wrench. I have heard someone call it an adjustable spanner. I have the niggling feeling that I have also heard it called an adjustable crescent. The Aussies seem to call it a shifter. 

After a bit of digging, there was patent as a ‘screw adjust wrench’ first registered 190-odd years ago by one Solyman Merrick of - the Simpson’s town? - Springfield Massachusetts, on 17 August, 1835 (DATAMP, 2023a). And note the interesting spelling. I wonder how well educated Mr Merrick – or his Dad – was, in order to create such an unexpected and novel hash of Solomon. Ah, well.

Six years later, a Mr Coes of Worcester Massachusetts came up some interesting modifications, registering a one-handed wrench patent on 16 April 1941, for “Loring Coes’ Screw Wrench” (DATAMP, 2023b). A quick check of Google Maps shows that Merrick and Coes lived roughly 80km apart: could one have pinched the idea from the other? There was definitely some animosity, as Solyman Merrick and Loring Coes fought it out in the courts through the later 1800s trying to sort out just whom was infringing on whose patents.

But this was to no avail for poor Solyman, as Coes' patent appears to be the originator of all later tools now known colloquially as a ‘monkey’ wrench (DATAMP, 2023b; it could be the bad spelling wot did Solyman in, mind you). OK, so this is where the adjustable spanner tool was ‘born’, but why ‘monkey’?

A quick consult of the ‘shorter’ Oxford English Dictionary (1989) provides the following:

monkey-wrench, a wrench or spanner having a movable jaw; also Tig., esp. in colloq. phr. to throw (or hurl) a monkey-wrench into the machinery, etc.; to act as an obstruction or hindrance; to ‘throw a spanner into the works’; hence as v. trans., to turn with a monkey-wrench” (p. 1006); followed by selected examples: “1858 Simmonds Dict. Trade, *Monkey-wrench. [...] 1920 Everybody's Mag. May 36/3 Don’t throw a monkey-wrench into the machinery! 1931 Daily Express 16 Oct. 1/2 Mr. Lloyd George hurled a monkey wrench last night into the creaking and decrepit machinery of Liberalism” (p. 1007).

So by 1920, a monkey wrench was a metaphor for industrial sabotage, and by 1931, had the same connotation in politics (and 'a spanner in the works' too, no doubt). But still no idea why ‘monkey’.

I looked up the OED's earliest mention, in Simmonds’ Dictionary of Trade, to find “MONKEY WRENCH, a spanner with a moveable jaw” (1958, p. 251). There is no further explanation. The term must have been in common enough use by 1858 to have appeared in a dictionary of trade terms: the Dictionary’s preface states its aim was to “define only the ordinary and popular names – English or foreign; and consequently an [item can] be sought under its common designation” (p. vi).

Being little further ahead, I then consulted the guru on all things words, Michael Quinion, at World Wide Words. Blast it: I should have done that first. Mr Quinion (2009) says that the first VERIFIED sighting of monkey wrench turns up in an amazing inventory of the railways of the UK. Found under “Orders to Enginemen and Firemen” (Whishaw, 1940, p. 210) as part of the inventory of the “Liverpool and Manchester Railway” this 665 page work “includes [an 1837] list of tools that must be kept in a locomotive cab” (Quinion, 2009) which reads as follows:

3. Every engineman shall have with him at all times in his tender the following tools […] A complete set of screw-keys, one large and one small monkey wrench…” (Whishaw, 1940, p. 211).

As railways were a UK invention, then it seems likely that the monkey wrench is a UK-named tool. But wait, there’s more. Mr Quinion knows of an – as yet – UNVERIFIED sighting, “dated 1807 to a firm supplying ‘Screw plates, lathes, clock engines [...] monkey wrenches, taps’. The entry in the online Oxford English Dictionary includes this but with a question mark before the date which means that their editors have yet to verify it beyond doubt” (2009, citing Dane, 1973; Miller, 2018). This refers to one Richard Fleetwood, who produced in Parr, Rainford in 1807 "Screw plates, lathes, clock engines, stocks and dies, milling tools, monkey wrenches, taps" (Dane, 1973, p. 219), but Dane's source evidence - as far as I know - has not been verified by the OED enough to be included in the dictionary. We don't know what this looked like though.  

A screw wrench engraving dating from 1809 by one William Barlow, shown in the “Repertory of Arts, Manufactures, and Agriculture, 15(2), Plate III, Figures 10-12” may be an early example (Brown, 2015). There is no sign that this was called a monkey wrench, and it is two years after the unverified 'monkey wrench' in Dane (1973), but it is possibly one, so I have illustrated this post with it.

So. The monkey wrench was in print BEFORE Loring Coes registered his patent. While Mr Coes screw wrench may be called a monkey wrench, it is a conferred existing name, not the original, because we know in 1837, engineers on the Liverpool and Manchester Railway had to carry them, and it appears that a Mr Fleetwood was making them in 1807 (Dane 1973). 

But why 'monkey'? We are still not getting closer to why this name. Some suggest that a monkey wrench is called a monkey wrench because the head looks like a monkey (Brown, 2015; Staten, 1996). Some think there was a bloke called "Moncky", "Monckey" or "Monk" in the mix (Miller, 2018; Staten, 1996). It would be interesting to know what an original monkey wrench actually looked like, but the book by Dane does not contain any plates, so we are no wiser. 

We know monkey wrenches have been about for a long time. It is probably a UK name into US usage and back into the UK. But we still don't know why it is called a monkey wrench. 


Sam

References:

Brown, P. J. (14 October 2015). Charles Monk, Monkey Wrenches and a "Monkey on a Stick" - a Gripping History and Etymology of "Monkey Wrench". https://esnpc.blogspot.com/2015/10/charles-monk-monkey-wrenches-and-monkey.html

Dane, E. S. (1973). Peter Stubs and the Lancashire Hand Tool Industry. John Sherratt & Sons Ltd.

DATAMP. (2023a). Patents for Solyman Merrick. Directory of American Tool and Machinery Parts. https://www.datamp.org/patents/search/xrefPerson.php?id=20137

DATAMP. (2023b). US Patent: 2,054: Method of Constructing Screw Wrenches Loring Coes Screw Wrench. Directory of American Tool and Machinery Parts. https://www.datamp.org/patents/search/displayPatent.php?number=2,054&type=

Miller, D. (2018). Chapter x: On Possibility; or, The Monkey Wrench. In G. Mitman, M. Armiero, & R. S. Emmett (Eds.) Future Remains: A Cabinet of Curiosities for the Anthropocene (143-148). University of Chicago Press.

Quinion, M. (24 October, 2009). Monkey wrench. https://www.worldwidewords.org/qa/qa-mon5.htm

Simmonds, P. J. (1958). A Dictionary of Trade Products, Commercial, Manufacturing, and Technical Terms. G. Routledge & Co.

Simpson, J. A., & Weiner, E. S. C. (Eds.) (1989). Oxford English Dictionary (2nd ed., Vol XI Look-Mouke). Clarendon Press.  

Staten, V. (1996). Did monkeys invent the monkey wrench?: Hardware stores and hardware stories. Simon & Schuster.

Whishaw, F. (1840). The Railways of Great Britain and Ireland: Practically described and illustrated. John Weale.

Wilton, D. (18 May 2021). monkey wrench / throw a monkey wrench into. https://www.wordorigins.org/big-list-entries/monkey-wrench

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Friday, 3 February 2023

Hedging in academic writing

When writing academically, we need to be very, very careful about using absolutes. Absolutes are statements like "no", and "none", and "never". These statements can trip us up - and make us look like idiots - because we just don't know who is out there, doing research that we are not yet aware of, which contradicts our apparently absolutely certain statement. Using absolutes leaves us at risk of 'over-claiming', so undermining our credibility.

What we need is a softly, softly, catchee monkey approach. In academic writing, we soften our claims and comments - such as “all” and “every” - by using 'hedging' language. Hedging language has been defined as "hedging terms [are adjectival and adverbial language] used to avoid overstating claims. Even where the evidence points to a highly likely conclusion, there is usually some degree of doubt" (Mewburn et al., 2018. p. 120). 

Some examples of hedging language include using terms such as "most" and "many". For example, "...have no..." and "...have none..." could be replaced with “…appear to have no...” or “…have apparently none…” JUST in case someone else knows more than we do (which, when we stop to think about it, is pretty likely!). 

Further, there are degrees of hedging: from very cautious, showing how we are worried about the validity of the evidence we are drawing on, to highly confident. We could go softly - show our increasing caution by saying “…have few…” or “…provides little…”; or show even more caution still with "...have some..." or "...provides some...". The image accompanying this post shows a Likert-style range of hedging language examples.

There are four key reasons why we use hedging language:

  1. To meet academic writing standards (Academic Marker, 2019). "Being precise is one of the most, if not the most, important of the academic values. We must be as precise about our uncertainty as we are about everything else. Hedging language is tentative. These terms help us modify strong claims without losing valuable nuance" (Mewburn et al., 2018. p. 119)
  2. "To reduce the possibility of being proven wrong by other researchers, peers, or academics [...] Remember that one of the primary purposes of academic research is to prove or disprove previously existing research" (Academic Marker, 2019)
  3. "To demonstrate accuracy and critical thinking when reporting research, showing that a study’s methodology may not be 100% accurate or its results completely trustworthy" (Academic Marker, 2019)
  4. "To use politeness strategies to concede to the reader or listener that there may be flaws in the information being provided" (Academic Marker, 2019).

Hedging language allows us to linguistically create space for other researchers doing work that we are not yet aware of; to understand that our literature review search may not have gone far enough; and allows us to acknowledge that our field understanding may be incomplete. It allows us to flag our potential knowledge gaps before someone is unkind enough to point it out to us - and is probably justified in doing so.

It is prudent, polite, and humble. All valuable skills for us to learn :-)


Sam

References:

Academic Marker. (30 April 2019). What is hedging language and why is it important?. https://academicmarker.com/academic-guidance/vocabulary/hedging-language/what-is-hedging-language-and-why-is-it-important/

Mewburn, I., Firth, K., & Lehmann, S. (2018). How to Fix Your Academic Writing Trouble: A Practical Guide. Open University Press.

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Friday, 20 January 2023

Serendipity

I first came across the term "serendipity" when I read the Three Princes of Serendip in either some ancient Strand Magazines that my Father had picked up second-hand, or in the 1001 Tales of the Arabian Nights. As the etymology goes, Serendip is the original Persian name for Sri Lanka (Simpson & Weiner, 1989, p. 5), and serendipity is:

A word coined by Horace Walpole, who says (Let. to Mann, 28 Jan. 1754) that he had formed it upon the title of the fairy-tale ‘The Three Princes of Serendip', the heroes of which ‘were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things they were not in quest of’.] The faculty of making happy and unexpected discoveries by accident. Also, the fact or an instance of such a discovery. Formerly rare, this word and its derivatives have had wide currency in the 20th century. 1754 H. Walpole Let. to Mann 28 Jan., This discovery, indeed, is almost of that kind which I call Serendipity. 1880 E. Solly Index Titles of Honour Pref. 5 The inquirer was at fault, and it was not till some weeks later, when by the aid of Serendipity, as Horace Walpole called it—that is, looking for one thing and finding another—that the explanation was accidentally found (Simpson & Weiner, 1989, p. 5).

So 'happy coincidence', more or less. Elements of intersectionality, even. I have been reading a book by Dr Christian Busch, called "Connecting the Dots". It has been very interesting thus far. 

What has struck me in particular is that we can adopt a serendipity mindset. This is defined as "a practical philosophy for life and for business", which "has a form and a structure [and] is a process that we can influence". If we "stop regarding luck as something that happens to us, [we can] become an agent of our own and others’ smart luck", through "Being aware of and taming our innate biases and our propensity to live with preconceptions" (Busch, 2022, p. 54).

How do we do that? Well Busch (2022) suggests that we keep a serendipity journal, in four steps:

  1. Consider our previous half year, and ask ourselves: "What were three important moments of serendipity [we] experienced within that period? What did they have in common? Is there something [we] can learn from them?" (Busch, 2022, p. 54)
  2. "Write down the serendipitous encounters and related ideas that [we] were excited about but never followed up. Once[we] have completed the list" get a "trusted person to act as ‘filter’ to discuss with" us some ideas to further consider. Sleep on the idea, then "reach out to a key person in that field and discuss how to make the idea happen. Don’t be afraid to make the effort here – it will pay off" (Busch, 2022, p. 55)
  3. Axe meetings wherever possible. Perhaps just don't go, and see if anyone notices (my strategy). Look for repeating activities that may not be "truly necessary". Ask ourselves if "they really need the amount of time they are allocated? If they are under your control, can you restructure them?" (Busch, 2022, p. 55)
  4. "Start detailing your important decisions: the reasons for them and the related information that you had at the point you made them. Ask yourself, ‘Based on which assumption or belief did I make this decision?’ and ‘What would influence me to make this decision differently?’ and write down your answers. Review the entry whenever you have buyer’s remorse at the decision you made or when you (after the fact) think you knew something all along"  (Busch, 2022, p. 55)

        An interesting approach. I think I might give this a try.

        The book is full of these little activities. It seems to be well worth a read.


        Sam

        References:

        Busch, C. (2022). Connect the Dots: The Art and Science of Creating Good Luck. Penguin Life.

        Simpson, J. A., & Weiner, E. S. C. (Eds.) (1989). Oxford English Dictionary (2nd ed., Vol XV Ser-Soosy). Clarendon Press.

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