Mincing Words

It seems the entire world has come to the conclusion that mincing words is acceptable. We have leaders who, when asked if they will do 'A' respond by saying they fully support 'X, Y and Z', without answering the question. We have corporations making statements about horrific abuses of power or failure of oversight saying, 'We value the safety of our employees..." or "We are committed to....", again without answering the question.

Additionally, emotionally-driven people are demanding misusing the use of terms like 'they' and 'them' to refer to individual, simply to fit their own preferences; read a modern news story about someone demanding to be referred to as 'them' and you can't tell if an individual or a crowd is the subject of the article. We're trading verbal precision to accommodate the emotional whims of a small, misguided segment of society. 

It's been demonstrated that language has a huge impact on cognition; how we speak, and the language we have available to us shapes our thoughts and actions in a fundamental way. By ceding the concept that fair questions require fair answers and words have specific meanings, we're damaging our society in a way that is probably not yet fully apparent. 

Clarity of thought and the ability to precisely articulate those thoughts is fundamental to meaningful communication, and meaningful communication is fundamental to a healthy society. By accepting imprecise language, we're giving that up. 

The important part of all this to remember is that the people demanding these changes-the politicians refusing to answer, the corporations talking around an issue and the people demanding modifying word usage to assuage their personal predilections KNOW this. That's the point of it all-control the way someone speaks and you'll eventually control the way they think; illegal aliens become undocumented workers, and mothers become birthing people.

The natural reaction of a true libertarian is to let folks do as they wish, as long as they're not hurting anyone, but language belongs to all of us; allowing it to be purposely distorted DOES hurt us, and intentionally so-when your children can't tell the difference between someone who migrated here and someone who snuck into the country illegally, you're damaging their understanding of the world. 

While most of us (libertarians, that is) naturally shrink from directive behavior, this is a place we need to stand and fight-letting people undermine the language YOU THINK IN is about as fundamental as damage gets. 

Machines, Machinery and Life

Machines aren't alive; everyone knows this, except possibly the people who work on and with some of them. 

The machine I'm currently on certainly seems alive; it's spent the last ten minutes trying to spit me off it in some sort of weird, innocent puppy-play way. It wants me to roll on the rug and play tug of war, and isn't going to settle for me sitting on the couch and scratching its ears.

The word, of course, is 'anthropomorphization'; the endowing of non-human animals or inanimate objects with the traits of humanity. It's an illogical kind of thing, and the basis for almost all the really good Disney characters of the last century. I know this, but can't help thinking this new bike has a distinct personality.

I decide it might be safer to play along, then, and so I stop futzing about and start riding with more intent. Puppy-Motorcycle signals its approval by immediately settling into its suspension and roaring toward redline as I downshift and speed up. It certainly seems happier now, and, like seeing a puppy you're playing with enjoy itself, this is making me happier. 

I'm no longer the rider, I'm a co-conspirator, listening to the bad advice getting whispered in my ear and seeing if the footpegs will touch in the corners now that I've warmed the tires up a bit, and turning that pesky traction control down so the front wheel can get off the ground and stretch a bit on the corner exits. I'm still the one turning the bars and pulling the levers, but I'm no longer telling the bike what to do; we're cooperating in all this. It's a partnership, rather than a rider and a bike, a team rather than someone controlling a dumb machine.

I glance down at the dash (a quick one, this is a curvy road) and I'm astonished at the speed that's registering. My instinctive reaction is to slow down-I don't really like hospital food, and don't really feel like bringing in a whole new crop of skin, something the armored gear I'm wearing could never fully prevent if Mr. Puppy-Motorcycle and I were to make some tiny miscalculation at this speed and on this road. But as if sensing this, the bike settles the front end into the next curve even more solidly, giving feedback through the bars showing the suspension working and tire gripping with insane force as it leans over and rails through. "Don't worry", it says, "we've got this. Not breaking a sweat here." I listen, and we continue to speed through these corners faster than I've ever dared on any other bike.

I know machines aren't alive. Every sane person knows that. 

Except for really, really good motorcycles.