Tomato or Tomato?

In biology there's a process called "speciation", which is the moving apart of two groups of individuals of the same species, usually geographically separated, until they can be counted as separate species. Something similar happens with languages, although as history has tended to create larger units and faster communication across longer distances as time went on, with languages we also see the process in reverse. At some stage the northern and southern Celtic languages diverged and later the two languages themselves subdivided, encouraged by being separated by non-Celtic speakers, so Cornish, for example, is neither Breton nor Welsh. Distinct dialects spoken by small numbers of people in limited areas, though, have been disappearing quite fast since the 19th century. Languages can also be created by what in biology would be called crossing: cross old Low German with Norman French and you get English. Fortunately the people who speak these languages are fertile, unlike most products of cross-species intercourse.

What on earth is all this about?

It's about British English and American English. Of course there are other Englishes with their own developments - Australian and Indian English, for example - but I fancy looking at these two.

Some characteristics of American English are down to recent crossing or gene-swapping. In parts of the U.S., for example, it seems to be acceptable to say "If I would have done more revision I would have passed the exam" instead of "If I'd done..." (had done). That would be grammatically correct in some other nordic languages. "Fresh" meaning forward (of a girl) comes from German "frisch" (joyful, bubbly). The use of "hopefully" to mean "I hope this" instead of "full of hope" comes from German "hoffentlich". It is better to travel, hopefully, than to arrive.


In other cases American English preserves versions less changed by time. "Dove" instead of "dived" is archaic British English. Pronouncing Lieutenant (a French word meaning place-holder) as "Lootenant" is much closer to the French pronunciation than the British "Leftenant". In fact I really have no idea how we managed to arrive at that pronunciation.

Now for some interesting differences.

The only British English term for the season including October is "autumn". Americans recognise this word, but the common term is "fall". OK until you say something like "What a wonderful fall!" or "She phoned me in mid-fall".

The space for storage at the back of a car in British English is the boot (odd, though you could put your foot in it). Americans say "trunk", presumably because at one time trunks (not the elephant sort) were strapped to the back of the car for storage. So I can put my boot in the trunk or my trunk in the boot. Elephants - please don't try the latter. For that matter, don't submit to the former.

A living-space within a larger building is a flat to the British. The invitation to look at my lovely new flat would not appeal to Americans who, extravagantly, can have up to four flats.

In Britain a lift can take you somewhere in a car, but can also take you up or down inside a building. American lifts are not capable of taking you directly up or down.

"Republican" carries some drastically different meanings depending on whether you're in the U.S., Britain or Northern Ireland. So I may be a Republican in Britain but lose that characteristic by travelling west (but not east unless I go far enough to cross the Pacific).

The two Englishes are, though, coming together now faster than they diverge. "On the weekend" is now common in Britain where once we would only have said "At the weekend" - and we now use "hopefully" in two quite different meanings. Still, there is hope for diversity as Brits may acquire bits of Polish and Americans bits of Spanish.

We may yet be two different species.

Once we're different species, of course, it's hard for us to interbreed.

Man was born free, but everywhere he is chained to a mobile phone

Mobile phones (cell phones in the U.S.) are one of the inventions that have changed our lives profoundly. They work in sync with the internet, e-mail, kindle and others to pass information (or misinformation) faster and easier. The phone itself, of course, can now be a camera or a mini-computer.

The benefits, even to those who use them conservatively, are enormous. They've saved many lives, especially of climbers and hill-walkers lost, trapped or injured alone (if they had network coverage, of course). People threatened by would-be robbers or rapists have been able to phone the police. Less dramatically, how helpful it is when delayed on the way to a meeting some way away to be able to phone the person you're supposed to be meeting and not only explain you'll be late, but check whether, say, they can see you an hour later or whether you might as well turn around and rearrange. Last week I set off to visit a nature reserve some way from my home, one I'd not visited before. On the way I realised that while I'd brought maps, I'd left the notebook with directions at home. I found the place - but how welcome it would have been to have been able to use my phone, which in fact is basic, to visit the website and record the directions plus their phone number!

But... Here is a true story.

I was in a queue to be served at a Subway. The person two in front of me gave his order and moved on. The large woman in front of me took a step or two forward and stopped. She was having a conversation on her phone, one of those long ones where the speaker complains over and over again to a third party about someone else's unhelpfulness. The staff member (in my experience Subway staff in the U.K. are remarkably polite, which may be company policy or may be because they seem to have employed a lot of Africans) asked if he could help her. She completely ignored him. Thinking she might not have heard him because of her conversation, and not wanting to push in front of her if she did want to be served, I spoke to her and asked if she was wanting to be served.

"No, I'm waiting for someone," she said resentfully, returning to her conversation to remark in a very loud voice, "Some people are so rude!"

"Yes, they are," I said, but left it at that and gave the staff member my order.

Now I could not help thinking:
I suspect no-one else in the shop wanted to hear her loud complaints, but in fact everyone could;
If she was waiting for someone who was being served, she had no need to go into the queue;
To be treated as if you don't exist is very upsetting to nearly all people and that was precisely what she did to the staff member.

The story highlights a few points - for example, that people on mobile phones often seem to be completely unaware - or uncaring - that lots of other people have no choice but to hear them; that people getting into such a conversation often become oblivious to what's happening round them. That can be a danger to them: I've seen people deep in a conversation stepping into the road without looking or barging into people - though many seem to have a sixth sense to avoid this.

This isn't to say that people should never have such conversations. Maybe before long we'll have technology that could make such conversations silent to outsiders as texting is, but for now, that's not possible. I remember on a railway platform listening (as I had to unless I walked a long way away, which might have been conspicuous) to a young guy who had just come out of prison and was having a painful conversation with his girlfriend. I don't know the rights and wrongs, but she was clearly in repeated attack mode and he was trying to calm her down and find common ground. It was very obvious that the whole thing was very painful to him, but clearly he needed to have that conversation and compared to that, others' wish not to hear it should take second place.

Using a phone while driving - unless it's hands-free - is hugely dangerous but most often kills other people, not you. Fortunately it's illegal in the U.K., but people still do it. Even hands-free has been shown to make as much difference to attention and reaction times as drinking over the U.K. alcohol limit.

So there are dangers, but there's a subtler problem. Do we really want to be able to access everything immediately? If something happens that you want to describe to a friend or loved one, in most cases, would it be worse for waiting a few hours, during which you could consider it? When do we learn through silence, calm, contemplation, if there are stimuli begging us for attention all the time? When do we think?

Apparently most people in the U.K. would be seriously worried if separated from their mobile phones. That bothers me! I struggle to understand how one could get so dependent on being constantly contactable and constantly able to make contact. Me, I enjoy times when I'm not contactable and can't or won't make contact with others!

There is obviously an age factor here, but I'm reassured to find some young people who also want to treat the phone as a convenience but not a master. All is not lost. And by the way - if you've been trying to phone me, it's switched off.

Politically Correct

Once upon a time, "PC" in Britain meant "Police Constable". It still does. However, now it may also mean "Personal Computer" or "politically correct", so you could have a PC PC with a PC. Interesting though police constables and personal computers are, I want to focus on those two devious words "politically correct". I believe the term originated in the U.S.A. as a reaction against tight social or organisational control on what people could say. While essentially the same issues of racism, sexism, disablism and so on exist in the U.S. and the U.K., together with the same approaches to opposing them, it seems clear that the U.S. culture has been more prescriptive and restrictive than the U.K.'s: things that very few people would object to someone saying in the U.K. would meet with shock and condemnation in the U.S., and I'm not talking about grossly racist or sexist language. In its origin, then, the term may have been a healthy revolt against too much unthinking prescription. The culture of "political correctness", correctly understood, is not a matter of challenging possibly hurtful or contemptuous words, but of ruling them socially inadmissable, thus preventing debate and open learning. The term crossed the Atlantic at a time when we in the U.K. had come nearer to an orthodoxy of language on sensitive issues than before or after. It was used vigorously in the media to hold up to ridicule people who said terms like "manhole cover" or "history" were sexist or that a local council should not talk about "Christmas". However, most of the examples which hit the tabloid press were invented, the ban on talking about manhole covers being a classic example. There was indeed, I know, an attempt to rename women's history as herstory (a misunderstanding, as "history" is from Latin "historia", a story, and nothing to do with male gender) - but the draft council document concerned was promptly changed, with down-to-earth criticism, by the committed feminist councillor it went to for approval. History survived. The orthodoxy of language declined, except in the field of disability issues. Now on both sides of the Atlantic it's used almost entirely to sneer. Object to offensive language and it's very likely someone will say, "Oh, right - political correctness!" To question why there are no Black people working in reception, or no women in senior management, is "politically correct" - and as soon as the dread two words have been uttered, people think the argument can be dismissed. So what started as a challenge to unthinking orthodoxy has become unthinking orthodoxy itself. Such is life. This is not to say that there aren't still reasonable points that end to get frowned at (the unreasonable ones should be easy to rebut in argument). For example, there is undoubtedly racial and religious discrimination in the U.K., but does either explain why the socio-economic profile of ethnic Bangladeshi Muslims has been improving while that of Pakistani Muslims has flatlined - or in particular why Bangladeshi women are improving their work status faster than their Pakistani counterparts? Might there not be a factor to do with those communities? I can think of places where saying this would make one to be looked at with great suspicion - but far more places where challenging the term "Paki" would be unpopular. Now the term "political correctness" is being used to disparage any kind of political values or commitment. I recently went on a trip to a brew-pub which was strongly committed to environmentally responsible practices. On the way back someone commented that the brewer's methods were "not just politically correct, they make money." From the way "politically correct" was pronounced, I gathered that it was odd or ridiculous to want to reduce your negative impact on the environment, but fine to be motivated by profit. So it may be politically incorrect to say so, but I wish we'd stop taking about political correctness.

French culture

The most famous French novel is called "Looking for a Lost Aunt" and the most famous French painting is "Eating Grass".