Drill a hole in part A and insert part B once you have ensured part C has been aligned after its connection to A.

Most people can handle reading a whole sentence to figure out what's going on. But, after a tiring day of building, it is somewhat annoying having to juggle instructions into actions.

Most readers will assume that instructions are written in linear time. Do this, then that. But that example is non-linear. What it is trying to say is:

Connect part C with part A. Then align part C and part A. Then drill the hole in part A. Then insert part B into part A.

It is slightly less interesting writing. But it presents all the actions in the order they need to be taken.

I see this temporally-mixed anti-pattern all the time. A typical example of this in technical documentation is:

Select Print from the File menu.

A simpler, clearer, and less ambiguous way of writing that is:

Open the File menu. Select Print.

Another similar example of confusing writing is:

Go to File → Print → Settings if you need to change the paper size.

Again, this places cognitive burden on the reader. If they want to understand if the instruction is relevant to them, they have to read the entire sentence. When faced with dozens of sentences, this can become confusing. The solution is:

If you want to do X, then do Y...

Immediately the reader knows that they can skip this sentence because they don't want to do X.

As technical writers, we sometimes want to craft eloquent prose. We long for glorious and intricate sentences. We tire of the monotony of linear writing.

Tough. We need to get over ourselves. Go write that epic fantasy novel you've been thinking about. The job of a technical writer isn't to entertain, enliven, or delight the reader. The job is to give them instructions in an easy to follow format, reducing the amount of cognitive burden they have, and making it quick to find the information they need.

In her book about the divergence of the English and American languages, Lynne Murphy asks this question:

wouldn’t it be great if language were logical and maximally efficient? If sentences had only as many syllables as strictly needed? If each word had a single, unique meaning? If there were no homophones, so we’d not be able to mix up dear and deer or two and too?

That got me thinking about the creativity which can be expressed in code - and whether its a good thing.

Let's take an incredibly simple and common operation - incrementing an integer variable by one. How would you do that? You've probably see these variations:

$i = $i + 1;

or

$i = $i++;

or

$i = 1 + $i;

or

$i = int( float_adder( float($i), 1.00 ) );

or

i1, i2 = i1^i2, (i1&i2) << 1 

I'm sure you can come up with a few more esoteric methods.

The Python programming language has a list of aphorisms for good programming practice. One of which is:

There should be one-- and preferably only one --obvious way to do it.

Is that right? As described in What is Pythonic?, the Python language itself has multiple ways to accomplish one thing.

But, is it a good idea?

Back to Lynne Murphy again:

No, absolutely not. No way. Quit even thinking that. What are you, some kind of philistine? If Shakespeare hadn’t played with the number of syllables in his sentences, he would not have been able to communicate in iambic pentameter.

Shakespeare wasn't writing Python though, was he?

But who said it first? Oh, there are a variety of sites online which will swear that it's a modern author. But let's see if we can find a quote from the last century.

Back in 1999, Neil Gaiman was interviewed in Locus Magazine and said:

England has history; Americans have geography. Which goes back to that joke, ‘America is a country where 100 years is a long time, and England is a country where 100 miles is a long way.’ Both of those things are true on many levels. There really isn’t a great English road trip tradition, because in three or four days, you’ve done it all. Whereas in America, the idea of the road trip is this magnificent long slog.

So it was already an establish trope by the tail-end of the millennium - as can be seen in Billboard Magazine's October 1998 edition.

Diana Gabaldon published "Drums of Autumn" in 1996. She's often cited as the origin of the quote.

Travelling back a bit further, there's a Usenet post from 1995 where 'Mike "from the US, but my wife is from Scotland" Bartman' says:

It appears that the difference between the US and the UK is that in the UK 100 miles is a long way, and in the US 100 years is a long time... ;^)

There's quite a few Usenet posts with that phrase, but I couldn't find any before the mid 90s.

In 1992, Benjamin Jones wrote a column in "EUROPE, The Magazine of the European Community" (ISSN 0191-4545)

(60MB PDF Source)

But the earliest I can reliably trace it back is a book from 1991 called "The Changing context of social-health care : its implications for providers and consumers". It in, Emily Friedman wrote a paper called "Patients as Partners: The Changing Health Care Environment" which talks, in part, about the litigious nature of American consumers of health services. She writes:

You can read the original at the Internet Archive or on Google Books.

Who was this "Simon"? Is he a real or imagined interlocutor? Did he originate this mot juste? Given the passage of time, it's probably impossible to find out.

Sadly, Emily died in 2016. It sounds like she fought tirelessly for justice - may she rest in power.

As for unreliable sources? There's this page from Jan Kučera which catalogues jokes posted to HUMOR@UGA.CC.UGA.EDU. It appears to have gone live around 1996:

That claims to be from 1988 - but there doesn't appear to be an archive of the HUMOR@UGA.CC.UGA.EDU listserve that I can find.

However, it does turn up in the venerable TextFiles:

It looks like "Fraser" at DEC sent that via UUCP to (for those of you not familiar with the now obsolete "Bang Path Notation) funny at looking via University of Waterloo's math department. Whereupon Brad Templeton probably re-circulated it to Usenet's "rec.humor.funny".

And that's as far back as I can trace it. Early Internet history is either mouldering on a set of tapes somewhere or completely lost. Google Books and Archive.org don't show the phrase appearing any earlier. But perhaps your research skills are better than mine?

Can you find an earlier reference? If so, please stick a comment in the usual box.

It was quite the culture shock.

To us, it felt weird, insincere, and creepy. But, like the over-enthusiastic whooping and cheering from US sitcom audiences, it seemed to be an accepted part of the culture.

A few years later, the Disney Store in the UK decided that they needed to import this style of greater. I remember walking into a store and seeing a clearly mortified teenager reciting the same spiel as in the American stores.

It was not a success. British culture doesn't really do over-the-top, flowery, purple-prose. It reads to us as sarcasm. I'm not saying this is an attractive characteristic of the average Britisher - but it is noticeable. It causes great cognitive dissonance when American friends and colleagues give us praise - surely they are being insincere? But, no, everything is awesome to them.

With the rise of International English, most countries' linguistic foibles get absorbed into the zeitgeist. We do the needful once we have circled back and then get into a muddle over what the verb "to table" means. Mostly, it works. Mostly.

Recently, I had a chat with an Amazon UK customer service assistant. I assume that they weren't in the UK and were outsourced to a country where the weather is hotter and the standard of written English is good enough. They were incredibly helpful so I finished my conversation with a well-intentioned "have a lovely day".

In return, I got this:

Wow! My initial thought was that they were being heavily sarcastic. If someone in a UK shop had said that to me in person, I'd assume they wanted to step outside for a punch-up. Seriously, that's fighting words over here! And the implied threat to my family...?

Of course, it is none of that. They probably have a list of canned responses which they can pre-select. Responses which have been extensively focus-grouped and found to be awesome. Or maybe I wasn't talking to a human - perhaps a bot just decided to repay my compliment as though I were an American.

Anyway, if you're doing prompt-engineering on an LLM please be sure to set the sarcasm detection to the lowest common denominator!

Reactions from the Fediverse

What does the verb "to trespass" mean to you? I always thought it was the act of going somewhere prohibited or, in archaic terms, to do wrong against someone.

But over the last few days, I've started seeing it used in a wholly unexpected way:

Dr. Curiosity 💻🔬

@DrCuriosity@cloudisland.nz

@signaleleven @Edent I think "trespassing from" has come about because "ordered to leave the premises under the Trespass Act" is a bit of a mouthful.

In our context in New Zealand, it's a formal ban backed by law, and the person is committing a criminal offence by remaining in or returning to that place.

2023-06-11, 09:01 0 boosts 3 favorites

I know, I know. Language evolves. So far this neologism seems confined to NZ and USA. No doubt we'll all be using it by the end of the year.

At the time of writing, the Wikipedia entry for "frequency illusion" said:

The name "Baader-Meinhof phenomenon" was coined in 1994 by an online message board user, who, after mentioning the name of the German terrorist group Baader-Meinhof once, kept noticing it, and posted on the forum about their experience. This led to other readers of the message board sharing their own experiences of the phenomenon, leading it to gain recognition. It was not until 2005, when Stanford linguistics professor Arnold Zwicky wrote about this effect on his blog, that the name "frequency illusion" was coined.

But, crucially, there were no citations to support this supposed origins.

A quick footle round the Internet led me to the Dictionary.com entry which said:

The name of the phenomenon is thought to have been coined by Terry Mullen, who explained his experience with it in a 1994 letter to a Minnesota newspaper.

Interestingly the date is the same, but it is now credited to a letter to a newspaper rather than a forum or message board.

A 2005 blog post about the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon contains a comment which purports to be from Mullens.

I coined the term “Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon” 20 years ago, or so. [...] I alerted the ‘public’ to the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon through a series of letters I submitted to the “Bulletin Board” in the St. Paul Pioneer Press. I submitted them under the pen name “Gigetto on Lincoln,” a reference to my wheaten terrier named Einstein, nicknamed Gigetto.

We can see now where Wikipedia gets its assertion that it was an "online message board" as they were frequently called "Bulletin Boards" - but this appears to have been a newspaper-based board.

In 2019, there was a short online discussion talking about the origin of the phrase.

The Dread Pirate Bob

@RandomlyBob

Allow me to introduce you to Dan Kelly, formerly the St. Paul Pioneer Press feature editor who published the original reader submission naming the Baader-Meinhoff Phenomenon. He tweets as @BBonward.

Ben Zimmer

@bgzimmer

Now on @LanguageLog: "Frequency illusion," a coinage of Arnold Zwicky, has made it into the @OED: "a quirk of perception whereby a phenomenon to which one is newly alert suddenly seems ubiquitous." languagelog.ldc.upenn.edu/nll/?p=42180

---

---

Ben Zimmer

@bgzimmer

@RandomlyBob @BBonward Very cool! But will we ever know the real name of the reader known as "Gigetto on Lincoln," who wrote that submission? Lexicographical glory awaits...

---

That led me to the St. Paul Pioneer Press new Bulletin Board.

From March of 1990 until October of 2016, Bulletin Board ran every day in the St. Paul Pioneer Press. Now it is an independent production, running online, here at BBonward.com — and on Sundays in the Pioneer Press (twincities.com).

Aha! With that information, I found the original article from 1994!

So I corrected Wikipedia.

Now, does anyone have a scan of the original paper?

This book asks us a simple question:

What if, instead of worrying about the “ruination” of English by young people, jargonistas, or Americans, we celebrated English for being robust enough to allow such growth and variety?

Without evolution, languages stagnate and die. Without a vast corpus of work, which responds to changing circumstances around the globe, languages can be extinguished. English is no different. Lynne Murphy makes an excellent case that English isn't the sole preserve of the English; it's now a worldwide phenomenon that allows understanding (and, sure, a little confusion) between people born thousands of miles apart.

Without a doubt, it challenged some of my prejudices.

The symptoms of amerilexicosis include irritability, obsessive behaviour, paranoia, and delusions.

Yes! Why do I sometimes snarl at "candy" or "soda"? Does it make me feel stupid when my brain takes a second to catch up? Maybe. But Murphy points out, quite rightly, that people mostly don't have that over-reaction to Indianisms and Australianisms - why? It's the power dynamics, stupid.

The British are conditioned to notice when others don’t talk like they do because accent is an inescapable marker of social position in Britain.

Aha! Yes, class comes in to it as well. What subtle signs we subconsciously pick up!

It's full of little titbits (or tidbits) sure to enrapture to language lover:

Based on its origin, pen pusher is an Americanism. Based on who says it, it’s a Britishism. This isn’t a lonely example.

There are so many words and phrases which started in the UK, fell out of fashion, became "classy" in the USA, and then got re-exported back to us - whereupon we denounced them as vulgar neologisms.

We also get a good glimpse at the various moral panics over the years. There's always someone who is terrified about the evolution of language:

Ten years ago, the pundits predicted that students would soon be submitting essays with are spelled R and great as GR8. That hasn’t happened. Young people now use smartphones that autocomplete the correct spelling. They would only type C U L8R with irony.

It is, perhaps, unintended - but the book made me think about computer programming languages. I wonder if anyone has done a serious study on how they evolve and how they let people express themselves. This passage is written about English, but it could just as easily be about Python or FORTRAN:

But wouldn’t it be great if language were logical and maximally efficient? If sentences had only as many syllables as strictly needed? If each word had a single, unique meaning? If there were no homophones, so we’d not be able to mix up dear and deer or two and too? No, absolutely not. No way. Quit even thinking that. What are you, some kind of philistine? If Shakespeare hadn’t played with the number of syllables in his sentences, he would not have been able to communicate in iambic pentameter.

I found out about this book because - get this - it cites one of my blog posts! So it gets an extra star for that.

This is a brilliant book for language lovers.

The book is about the Sapir–Whorf hypothesis which, simply put, says that the language people use changes the way they experience the world.

McWhorter thinks this is bullshit - and goes through his reasoning in painstaking detail. It occasionally veers into personal attacks, which I found a little odd.

K. David Harrison has posited that depicting language diversity as marvelously random, as I have, is “stunningly obtuse.” He happens to have done so in a passing critique of an article I wrote in World Affairs. That personal aspect, however, is not my reason for using his position as an example here. For instance, his claim that I think language’s complexities render them unfit for the modern world and that it would be better if all people were monolingual are so contrary to anything I have ever written that the proper response is silence.

Like, dude, is everything OK at home?

Unlike the terrible Atlas of Unusual Languages, this takes the time to go through a variety of languages and explain exactly what makes them different from each other. For example:

In English, time is a distance. In Spanish, it’s an amount or a size. Greek is the same way: you don’t have a long night.

It is also written in a "pop-science" style but, for me, just didn't hit the mark.

If the Pirahã do by chance have counting games that they hid from Everett (“No, no, not in front of him!”) then if all they have to work with is “that there” and “two and a bit” then we can assume that the game barely qualifies as what we think of as counting (“Here’s one banana, Junior, and now, heeeeere’s something like two bananas! Yaaay!!!!!”).

There are plenty of diversionary sentences:

Languages all accomplish the same things despite how massively different human cultures are. It happens, however, that each language happens to develop its random private obsessions, rather like a little fellow who can name all of the presidents’ wives for no real reason (that was me as a lad).

But, at times, he seems to almost revels in teasing us with with what linguistic trivia he knows - but won't tell us:

The Atsugewi language of California is a great example, extinct as of recently but while it was still spoken, goodness gracious! For example: the sentence for “The soot flowed into the creek” was W’oqhputíc’ta cə ni?ə qáph cə c’uméyi. Breaking it down into its pieces in all of its forbidding unfamiliarity need not detain us here; suffice it to know that within that one sentence is a magnificent fussiness.

For all that, it's hard to argue against the book's central thesis - does the Sapir–Whorf hypothesis actually make a difference?

In the grand scheme of things, of all the ways that we might be interested in how American adolescents think, black or not, or how any Americans of any age think, or how English speakers worldwide think, what insight could this wee discovery about too lend us on issues humanistic, political, societal, artistic, educational, medical, or even psychological?

This is all undercut by McWhorter's repeated reliance on anecdotes and conjecture. There's lots of "it's hard to imagine" and "do we really think" and - bizarrely - "queerly".

That said, I can't argue with its conclusions. Sapir–Whorf doesn't really pass the "is this likely" test. When tested, its effects are incredibly weak. And, when push comes to shove, wouldn't make a meaningful difference even if it were true.

A convincing book which I found to be a bit irritating.

Recently, I mentioned how our team had a "get-out-of-jail-free card". Whereupon a person messaged me privately to ask what I meant, and if there was any real risk of us going to prison? I started explaining about the board game Monopoly.

"Ah! In my language, it's called 'Pagu la grandan subaĉeton, aŭ mi enfermos vin. Vi peco de feko.'" Which I think is beautiful.

Monopoly has also given us the stock phrase "Do not pass go". As well as "I'm not playing, this game is rubbish. Why do you have to ruin Christmas every year, Brian?"

I find it interesting how phrases from games worm their way into a language. If you describe organising something as being a bit like "Tetris" - I dare say most of the world will understand what you mean. If you triumphantly shout "Check Mate!" there's a good chance English-speakers will get the reference.

But some phrases have long outlived their games' popularity. "Level pegging" comes from the game Cribbage (which no one has played since colour TV was invented).

There are dozens of phrases like this - go read this thread and contribute more

Terence Eden is on Mastodon

@edent

What games have given rise to common phrases?
"Get out of jail free card" springs to mind.
Any others?

---

I do wonder what modern games will give rise to such memetic linguistics? While people often talk about a final challenge being like a "Boss Level", it's rare that a specific game becomes so embedded in our culture.

Can you imagine being in an Important Board Meeting and saying, "We need everyone to give it their best Fus Ro Dah!"?

Perhaps they already do, and I'm an old fuddy-duddy. Oh well. Back to square one.

Is the word "data" a plural? On a strict reading, yes. Datum is singular, data is its plural.

But humans are spongey meatbags who evolve language. And there will always be a tension between traditionalists and modernists.

So, I took a serious, scientific, and accurate Twitter poll.

Terence Eden is on Mastodon

@edent

Data:

#UKGC21

---

is: (231)
231
are: (72)
72

---

It's amazing how many people are wrong, eh?

What I want to understand, is why it has evolved to a singular?

Charlie expresses it perfectly:

Charlie

@CharlieEdmunds

Replying to @edent@edent IMO data is like rice
The rice/data is ready/dirty/tasty
If you want to talk about individual bits, you can talk about grains of rice or pieces of data

---

I understand what Charlie is saying, but I think I disagree with her. Think about cooking some chips. Would you say "the chips is ready"?

No. But chips are small individual "things". Just like rice.

What's something smaller than chips, but bigger than rice. Peas?

"How's dinner coming along?" "The peas is ready!" Nope!

Something between peas and rice? Sweetcorn?

"The sweetcorn is ready." Aha!

There seems to be some intuitive size related to when something is an individual thing, and when it is part of a whole.

If a dozen bees are flying towards you - they're a plural.

But a swarm of bees is a singular thing - despite being made of many small bees.

Data is a swarm. The individual datums are tiny compared to the mass of the dataset.

The English language is adaptable. We'll happily bodge words together to make new ones, verb our nouns, and grammar-flex to the point of breaking. It's a fun language!

English is (mostly) genderless. The French have le chat and la table - because cats are boys and tables are girls, apparently. In Portuguese, the boys are "os meninos" but the girls are "as meninas".

Humans have pronouns (for example: he, she, they are common - but many others are available). For lots of people, it's reasonably obvious from context what their pronouns are. Calling someone by the wrong pronoun can be a bit offensive. The offence ranges from a minor social faux-pas all the way up to harassment.

Imagine that instead of being referred to by your correct pronoun, someone called you "it". That's not very nice, and rather dehumanising.

English society has become a lot less formal over time. It used to be the case that you would be introduced to someone by their title. "This is Mr Smith, the bank manager." Nowadays it is "Hey! I'm Dave, the bank manager". Whether the casualisation on social intercourse is a good thing is a subject for another blog post.

The advantage of the old way was that you often (but not always) got to know someone's pronouns from their title. Mr = he/him, Mrs = she/her.

But titles aren't always useful.

Sometimes, they "leak" personal information. Mrs vs Miss - tells someone if you're married or not. Hence the push by second wave feminism to use the term "Ms" to denote female, without revealing social status.

A gender-neutral version is "Mx". Which is widely accepted by UK institutions and doesn't "leak" gender. I often use Mx when I don't think an organisation needs to know my gender or marital status - but I still use he/him as pronouns.

Some other formal titles don't convey gender. English doesn't have Doctor / Doctoress, for example. Some gendered terms are obscure to most people - Editor / Editrix.

(The German language gets round this by addressing female doctors as "Frau Doktor".)

So even if we returned to a more formal way of speaking to people, it wouldn't necessarily get us to use the right pronouns.

Given that we want to avoid being rude, and understanding that misgendering someone can be a source of distress, what stops us introducing people with their pronouns?

I think part of the problem is that pronouns can feel awkward. There's no simple way to introduce someone and their pronouns in spoken English. It's easy to say "This is Ms Smith" - but I can't think of a convenient way to say out loud "This is Jane (she/her)". I suppose I could say "This is Jane, she uses female pronouns" - but it doesn't trip off the tongue.

Similarly, when I say "I'm Terence. He/Him." it doesn't feel very natural. That's not a great argument against doing something. And I dare say it will get more common in time.

Not everyone feels comfortable declaring their pronouns. For some, it feels unnecessary (ah! to have such privilege) and for others it starts a conversation they may not want to have. Some people are flexible about how others addresses them.

Language changes are difficult. As we grow older, we lose neuroplasticity. It can be hard to accept that the word "gay" no longer means "carefree", or that "wicked" isn't the epitome of cool.

This isn't to excuse people for failing to adapt - but I think it helps explain why it is hard for them to change.

In text, I wondered about using Emoji as a signifier.

Terence Eden is on Mastodon

@edent

Do you consider it acceptable to use Unicode symbols as identifiers of preferred pronouns? Saw it in someone's bio and wasn't quite sure what to make of it.
For example:
♂ He/Him
♀ Her/She
⚧ They/Them
Etc.
I guess the symbols are slightly obscure. Does that matter? 🤔

---

But the general consensus was that they didn't correlate strongly enough, and are somewhat obscure.

I'm happy putting "he/him" in my Twitter bio - and anywhere else that needs it. But the grumpy old codger in me wishes there was a more elegant way to do it.

I don't have a conclusion to this blog post. The world moves on, and it's up to us to keep pace with it. Sometimes it takes a while to catch up. I hope I'm doing the right thing, and I trust my friends to gently nudge me if I'm not.

Individually, they are tiny pinpricks of discrimination. None of them large enough to be worth kicking up a fuss. Each one easy to dismiss as a faux-pas.

When I experience them it's a painful reminder that some people think I don't belong.

At a recent diversity workshop, I was introduced to the phrase "Micro-Incivilities".

It was new to me - and to most attendees. It covers the same behaviour, but subtly shifts the emphasis to make the transgressor feel more comfortable.

As I understand it (and I'm no expert) the theory is this. Most people using micro-aggressions are not being aggressive. They're not shouting at you, punching you, or dominating you. What they're doing is the equivalent of rolling their eyes, talking over you, or ignoring you. They're being rude.

If you criticise someone for being aggressive - so it was described - then they are likely to react negatively. Aggression is seen as a deliberate and severe way to cause harm.

But if you tell someone they were rude... Well... We've all been unintentionally rude, right? Being rude is unfortunate, but it isn't show-stopping. We understand that if our behaviour is seen as rude, it's up to us to modify it.

Hence, micro-incivilities.

You can read more about the theory.

I have mixed feelings. I'm not sure that centring the needs of the transgressor is as important as acknowledging the pain of the victim. And incivilities sounds a little minimising.

But, if people are more likely to change their behaviour if they are told they are being rude... who am I to argue?

I suspect that, whatever the merits of the argument, the original phrase is here to stay.

That is, any computer sending data to another, should stick closely to the specification for that communication channel. Any computer receiving data, should expect that the sender isn't following the principle, and interpret the data as best as possible.

This is what makes the modern net work. We expect errors in communication and only ask for clarification when strictly needed.

It also applies to humans too!

I recently received a comment from a reader. They seemed apoplectic with rage. Apparently, I'd used the word "normal" when I should have used "usual". I'd mixed up "who" and "whom". And, no doubt, committed more heinous grammatical atrocities. 😢

I also received a similar rant from another dear reader. They were upset that I said "everybody loves..." and "the majority of people accept..." Apparently I had to prove justification for every logical statement - otherwise they just assumed the rest of my argument was bullshit. 🙄

Here's the thing, human don't naturally write in Backus-Naur form. We use messy and imprecise language. It takes 300 pages to prove 1+1=2. So humans usually skip that preamble.

This blog is not a philosophical paper. I write quickly and humanely. I try to structure my arguments logically, and provide references where I can. I don't always succeed. In other words, I try to embody the first half of Postel's Law.

In return, readers are politely expected to embrace the second half. If I slip and misuse a homophone - please use the robustness principle to figure out what I actually meant. If you can't, feel free to ask for a clarification.

Similarly, if you spot that my writing isn't compliant with Pure Predicate Logic - feel free to go fuck yourself return this blog to the shop for a full refund.

I find this an interesting development. It is well known that people often confused the Net with the Web. Hence the need for these "explanatory" t-shirts:

Of course, the original meaning of Netizen was something quite different.

Netizens are the people who actively contribute online towards the development of the Net and discuss the nature and role of this new communications medium.

Netizens are people who decide to devote time and effort into making the Net, this new part of our world, a better place.

Lurkers are not Netizens, and vanity home pages are not the work of Netizens. While lurking or trivial home pages do not harm the Net, they do not contribute either.

CMC Magazine - 1996

So, I suppose, Webizen makes more sense. The Web has won. Nearly everything on the 'Net uses HTTP to communicate. Ports 80 and 443 reign supreme.

Two thousand years ago, the proudest boast was civis romanus sum. Today, all free people, wherever they may live, are citizens of the Internet, and therefore, as a free man, I take pride in the words "Ich bin ein Webizen!"

tl;dr

"Christian Name" used to be synonymous with "First Name" or "Given Name". The majority of people in the UK are not Christian and, therefore, don't have Christian Names. Yet there are lots of local Government forms which still insist on this archaic phrasing.

Here are a few of my "favourites".

Local Government

First up, councils around the UK.

No sex please, we're Scottish

Would you like to apply for a sex shop licence? I'm unsure on what the Christian faith has to say about selling martial aides...

In fairness, the council use the same wording in their form to For Dispensation From Prohibition On The Use Of Fireworks During Night Hours.

And the lion shall lay down with the lamb

Argyle and Bute

I know it is mean to dunk on Comic Sans...

... But here's Beverley's allotment form

NHS

I (sort of) work for the NHS (ish). So I hope this will be taken in the spirit it is intended - improving the way we communicate with patients and staff.

I've excluded any historic documents, or patient comments.

Calderdale and Huddersfield

Logging compliments in Datix

Bolton

Records Management Policy

Wolverhampton

BLISS audit

Glebe Surgery

New patient registration form

Mid Essex

Paediatrics Investigation Handbook

Cheshire

Doloplus assessment tool

Nottinghamshire

Claim Form for Deceased Patients Property

Does this matter?

For people who are (for want of a better word) privileged, the notion of micro-aggressions seems almost hopelessly childish. A throwaway comment which upsets you that much? Man up!

But, for those of us outside the default, it can be a sudden jolt to the system. An otherwise pleasant day ruined by an unwelcome reminder that society still doesn't see you as normal.

I know some people who think this is just Politeness Gone Mad - but it hurts. It tells you that some parts of the country simply won't accept you for who you are. It's sad, irritating, and - thankfully - getting better.

The problem with defending the purity of the English language is that English is about as pure as a cribhouse whore. We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary. Terry Pratchett

The law leaves indelible traces in our language. In the UK, cars have to undergo an annual vehicle safety inspection - known as the MOT. Everyone refers to "getting your MOT done", cars are sold with "6 months MOT", even human health-checks are known as an MOT.

The letters MOT stand for Ministry of Transport. That office hasn't existed for FIFTY YEARS!

The last time anyone was literally read the Riot Act was 100 years ago - although it wasn't officially repealed until 1967. And yet, 300 years after its introduction, the phrase hangs on.

People who are detained against their will due to their mental health are said to be "sectioned". This relates to various sections of The Mental Health Act 1983. The act is still in force, but it has effectively taken over the word "section". The police can compel you to reveal your passwords under Section 49 of the Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act 2000 - but no one calls that "being sectioned".

Home rentals often (despicably) include a "No DSS" clause. It is meant to mean the rental is unavailable to anyone claiming benefits from the Department of Social Security. Again, a defunct government body - it was replaced by the Department of Work and Pensions in 2001.

The ASBO - Anti Social Behaviour Order - was withdrawn 5 years ago. But it has spread memetically through our language.

I'm sure there are dozen of other examples in your jurisdiction - please leave a comment with your favourite.

I received a very polite email back protesting that the speakers were diverse. There were speakers from India, Africa, and South America - no mean feat for an East-European conference. It just so happens that they were all men.

Diversity is multi-faceted. Some of those men may have been gay, or disabled, or poor, or old, or of a minority religion, or... or... or...

Not all diversity is visible. Not all of it is one-dimensional.

So, I'm thinking about changing my language. I've started asking all male conferences to be more representative.

That's not a perfect solution. Some industries are close to 100% male - so their manels would be perfectly representative.

But it shifts the conversation. Events should represent their potential community.

And, for the hard of thinking, I'm not asking you to change your language. Nor do I think you're a bad person for a language choice. But I want to change the way I think and speak about diversity.

I love Mad Magazine. My mother introduced it to me as a child. Although half the jokes flew over my head, I was hooked. I've spent years scouring bookshops for ancient Mad paperbacks, and picking through the discard pile at comic-book stores. One thing which always struck me was how progressive Mad was. Even back in the 1960s, it was an equal-opportunities satiriser - men, women, blacks, white,s straights, gays - a quick flick through the yellowing pages of the back issues shows a good-natured ribbing of everyone.

I'm sure that some of the caricatures probably wouldn't pass muster these days, and I'm equally sure there must have been the occasional cartoon which wouldn't be published today - but it's impossible to find a thread of hate, bile, and discrimination among the cheap sheets.

Except, of course, that's not quite true. Every work is a product of its age, and Mad is no exception.

To "celebrate" Donald Trump's ascendancy, Mad have released a free online comic with all the skits they've published about him.

Almost.

Here's page 12 of their comic:

For those too young to recognise it, this is a riff on the original Forest Gump movie poster.

What's interesting to me is that this is Mad's third revision to the spoof poster.

Here's what the original looked like in 2005 (Mad #449, page 29).

Let's be quite clear. Even a decade ago, using the word "retard" as an insult was not OK. It may have been popular in youth vernacular - but that doesn't make it cool.

Indeed, by the end of 2010 President Obama signed Rosa's Law which required the US government to replace the term "mental retardation" with "intellectual disability" - in recognition of how the word was being used to stereotype and abuse people.

When Mad Magazine next republished the comic, in 2012, the wording had morphed.

A seeming recognition that using abusive language isn't acceptable.

With the 2016 reprint at the top of this page, the writers have again revisited their language. Going from "retard" to "mentally challenged" to "moron" - a word with its own unfortunate history.

My point here isn't to shame Mad Magazine. Language and culture evolve - and it is fascinating to watch it change. We shouldn't necessarily be ashamed of our past - but we should seek to understand the impact it has. Mad Magazine hasn't gone through its archives bowdlerising and deleting - to do so would be culturally irresponsible, not to mention futile. But it has sensibly taken steps to ensure that it doesn't amplify abuse for the sake of a chuckle.

I'll leave you with a Mad spoof from 2015 which, sadly, isn't included in their special Donald Trump issue.

If you'd like to help support people with learning difficulties, or want some help or advice, please visit Mencap. If you'd like to understand arthrogryposis, please visit The Arthrogryposis Group.

If you're anything like me, you've got hundreds of conference Ts stuffed in a drawer somewhere. They're all the same - a funky logo on the front, and usually a list of sponsors on the back. Not quite as glamorous as a rock-concert tour shirt but, hey, good enough from slobbing around the house.

As I was directing people to their shirts, a few of us got in to a (very good natured) discussion about the gender politics inherent in linguistic choices. For example, considering the following sentence.

On the left we have women's T-Shirts, and on the right we have men's T-Shirts.

What if a woman would rather wear a "male" shirt? Are we implicitly suggesting that such a course of action is wrong? If a trans-person wants to wear a specific shirt, are we reinforcing the notion that they are violating social norms?

It is simply a matter of politeness. I'm not necessarily talking about a Debrett's etiquette guide on whether a Marchioness outranks a Viscount - but what language is the most inclusive while retaining clarity.

A Little History

For the longest time, the British tech conferences I went to asked participants only for T-Shirt size on attendee application forms. It was gently pointed out that T-Shirts come in more than one style, and that a female medium size is equivalent to male small size. Thus, organisers started asking whether participants would prefer a male- or female-style shirt and, if so, in which size.

But, what are male and female styles? Generally speaking, they look like this: The male one is basically a rectangle of cloth, the female one tapers in at the waist and has more space at the breast.

Back To Language

Here are some of the choices we talked about, and some of the decisions we came to.

• Regular / Fitted. This implicitly says that people who want fitted are somehow irregular.
• Fitted / Non-Fitted. Again, implicitly saying one is different from the norm.
• Unisex / Women's. Suggests that, while women can wear either, men may not.
• Tits / No Tits. (Suggested by a woman I hasten to add!) Not all women have breasts. Some people have breasts but choose not to emphasise them with figure hugging clothes.
• Straight Cut / Curve Cut. The most factual description, but caused some confusion when we asked as this is not usual terminology.

In the end, we tentatively settled on "Fitted or Straight Cut" only to be hit with a problem.

Men are idiots.

The majority of men who were given the choice between "Fitted or ..." responded with either "Errr.... I'll take one that fits...?" or simply "What does fitted mean?"

Yup, guys generally have no clue that a traditional women's cut T-shirt is different from what a man usually wears. So, we had inadvertently chosen a language which was exclusionary to those who don't pay much attention to fashion.

If you have to ask what the difference between two choices is, you're marked as an outsider who lacks knowledge.

A Solution

From my many years of helping out with events, I know there are some things one just shouldn't do. Chief among these is cause guests embarrassment. Many people actively dislike being asked what size shirt they wear. They're also embarrassed if, after saying they want a Medium, they have to return it for a larger size.

What we usually do is leave the T-Shirts on a separate table, sorted by size, so that participants can pick the one which best suits them.

We abdicate responsibility, in order to provide a more pleasant experience. That, I think is what we should do in this case.

If we had one of each style and size of T-Shirt on a hanger, we could have placed them over their respective pile and simply let participants pick the size and shape they are most comfortable with.

Language choice matters. The words we choose to use have an impact. It might not be the most pressing issue in the world, but we should strive to avoid needless discomfort to those around us.

"But you must have a Christian name!" He cried.

"And I tell you that I don't!" Said my father, stubbornly.

"Of course you do, everyone does! You have to tell me for the census."

"No - I do not have a Christian name," responded Dad.

"How?! How is that possible!?"

"Because I'm not a Christian!" My father was triumphant.

"Oh...! Oh. Well, you know what I mean. Your first name then."

It seems hard to believe now, but growing up in the 1980s & 90s, the Christian religion seemed like quite a big deal. Everything stopped on a Sunday - hardly any shops open, religious programmes on TV, and half my friends stuck in a Madrasa.

Without me ever really noticing it, the UK has become increasingly progressive and tolerant. I remember having to write my "Christian name" on my school books but, in my adult life, I honestly don't think I've encountered the phrase. It's as archaic as the term "Coloured" or "Spastic" - words which were once part of everyday parlance which have fallen out of favour.

Well, until yesterday. The person who asked for my Christian name was mortified when I pointed out that, as I hadn't been baptised, I wasn't able to provide him with one. We both laughed at the absurdity of the situation - the way our brains regurgitate outdated notions at random. I still talk about "hanging up" the telephone, even though it stays firmly in my hand. A memetic skeuomorph which is hard to dislodge from the common tongue.

For people who are (for want of a better word) privileged, the notion of micro-aggressions seems almost hopelessly childish. A throwaway comment which upsets you that much? Man up!

But, for those of us outside the default, it can be a sudden jolt to the system. An otherwise pleasant day ruined by an unwelcome reminder that society doesn't see you as normal.

A quick look through Government websites shows an interesting array of forms which are still asking citizens for their "Christian names".

2024 Update: Most of these forms have been deleted and replaced with more inclusive versions.

• South Tyneside Council's Report Of Industrial Disease - Report Form DR1
  
• Shepway District Council's Notice of Interment (for non-denominational cemeteries and crematoria)
  
  
• Salford City Council's Application for Insertion in the Book of Remembrance.
  
  
• Argyll and Bute Council's Property Occupancy Questionnaire.
  
  
• Hull City Council's Application For The Transfer Of A Licence For A Hackney Carriage Vehicle.
  
  
• And, perhaps my favourite one. Aberdeenshire Council's Application for Permission to Hold a Performance of Hypnotism!
  

Of course, it's not just the state - it's also civic society. Everything from Golf Clubs, employment forms, and recreational societies.

I know some people who think this is just Politeness Gone Mad - but it hurts. It tells you that some parts of the country simply won't accept you for who you are. It's sad, irritating, and - thankfully - getting better.

It's not a big thing, true. Just a queer little throwback from people who haven't quite caught up with the march of progress.