Up Hayakawa's Ladder

According to the great media ecologist Neil Postman, “the dictionary definition is not the end of an argument on its meaning, it is the beginning of one.”

Alfred Korzybski, a Polish engineer, thought so too. Coming out of the horror of the First World War, he asked: We as humans have progressed past Euclidian geometry and Newtonian physics, why do we still adhere to a language system dominated by Aristotle?

In short, Aristotelian language systems are built on the law of the excluded middle. A is A and cannot be B. Something is, in its totality. Grass is green. But look at it from the reverse perspective: Is Green grass in all cases? Something is amiss here.

Non-Aristotelian language systems are “fuzzier” - they do not deal in absolutes. Instead, they look at probabilities, offering different meanings resting upon how we deal with abstractions.

Language is thought in action. The sounds we make, the letters we write, the way we move our hands and faces is our way of making our inner thoughts come alive in the real world. We then interpret those signals and process them as thoughts of our own.

In this process, some of the “true” meaning is lost. The signal is interrupted by noise. Sometimes that noise is of our own making.

In the 19th Century we hit the limits of Euclidian geometry; in the early 20th we hit the limits of Newtonian physics. In the 21st, we are seeing us hit the limits of Aristotelian language.

Non-Aristotelian language systems ask this question: what is going on? The language must shape the observations and be conscious that our words do not cover every single aspect of whatever is described.

S. I. Hayakawa’s Abstraction Ladder.

S. I. Hayakawa’s Abstraction Ladder.


Look at Hayakawa’s Ladder. Samuel I. Hayakawa was a US Senator and General Semanticist that borrowed from Korzybski’s ideas. We as humans confuse logical levels all the time. The abstract concept of “wealth” could mean almost anything lower on the ladder. “Bessie” the cow, one particular cow among many, is lost amongst that “wealth.”

One could argue the art of political communication is pitching high abstract concepts at as many people as possible and moving up and down the ladder depending on the political objective.

Not only that, but words can have different meanings depending on context. The phenomenon of “fake news” is often a deliberate confusion between more abstract terms and concrete terms. Concrete being what we see or hear directly; abstract in the sense of what we can infer; and “defined” by what we judge to be true. For example:

Observation: My neighbour Joe hasn’t returned the hammer he borrowed from me a month ago.
Inference: Joe is lazy and careless about other people’s belongings.
Judgement: Joe is a bad and untrustworthy person.

Now let’s observe this further and get more information.

Observation: My neighbour Joe hasn’t returned the hammer he borrowed from me a month ago.
Inference (based on further observation): Joe is a widower. He’s under lockdown with three kids and has been laid off, he must have his hands full at the moment.
Judgement: Joe is likely depressed and anxious. I won’t bother him with such trivial things at the moment.

I write this because I’m tutoring a friend of mine in writing university essays. I explained this concept to him, and he threw his hands up in the air. “Was I away when they taught this in school?”

I told him they don’t teach this in school.

He was shocked.

I thought about it for a tick. I was shocked too.

What if next to no one is taught this at any level? Why are we running around using inventions based on current science and using a language built for primitives?

Is this not a recipe for disaster?

Or are we living in the oven already?

Let’s hope not.

If You Want To Be Heard, Start Listening

Kids of my generation, perhaps the one before, would scratch their heads wondering why grandma kept all those rubber bands. We’d look askew when she turned off the stove before things were heated through; why she used the same tattered sponge over and over, even though its once bright yellow pad had turned a sickly brown.

The polite answer is she lived through the Great Depression and World War II.

The more accurate answer is she had a form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

During the Coronavirus disease pandemic, we too are experiencing something life-altering. The economic fallout and curtailment of our movements aside, I mean. For the first time in our lives, we are not experiencing a global event through a medium of television or print; we are living through it, all of us, at the same time. The COVID-19 pandemic is not something that happens to “those poor people” on another continent.

It is happening to me. It is happening to you. It’s happening to your partner. It’s happening to your children. It’s happening to your friends. It’s happening to your parents. It’s happening to their parents.

Everyone.

Your children, or your children’s children, will wonder why Grandma is so “anal” about sanitising her hands every time she comes home from the shop; they’ll scratch their heads when she insists they wear a mask when having a cough; why they’re reluctant to leave the house when “some kind of bug is going around.”

The polite answer is that she lived through the COVID-19 pandemic.

The more accurate answer – the answer we know to be true – is that she has some form of PTSD.

That she is “we.”

A dear friend of mine was upset that she couldn’t “fix” herself and stop being “paranoid” about COVID-19 and germs in general. How could one be “fixed” when every day – hour even - we see images of body bags, death counts, and big scary red spiky balls on TV (they’re supposed to be an image of SARS-CoV-2, the pathogen that causes the disease. I can assure you, it doesn’t look like that.) The best we can hope for is recovery.

Marketing and communication during this time has been annoying at best and predatory at worst. I’ve been inundated with spam email for hand sanitiser, toilet paper, deferred business loans, and everything I don’t really need. It’s because they’re set to the modern default: I’m going to shout at you like a petulant child until you hear me. Just hop on Twitter at any given moment to see what I mean.

Organising a support group for men with anxiety and depression issues for the last decade, I can tell you from my own experience that the most powerful tool for any type of recovery – emotional and economic – is to listen.

My red-coloured rubber physiotherapy ball, definitely not a scale model of SARS-CoV-2.

My red-coloured rubber physiotherapy ball, definitely not a scale model of SARS-CoV-2.

Lend that ear. Take in what the other person is saying. Empathise with them. Don’t mull over what you’re going to say in response. Just become the receiver for a brief few moments. Let go of any expectation of reciprocation. Be that “rock.”

The psychologist Sam Vaknin says our society is a narcissistic one. I tend to agree. When I first got into journalism, I was expecting publications I didn’t read nor buy pay me money for my writing. That is hypocrisy of the highest order. On the macro level, we transform ourselves into “content” for a currency of attention, though many people do not return the favour. It’s not hypocrisy. It’s just Instagram.

If you’re admonishing yourself for washing your hands obsessively, don’t. Right now, with no cure or vaccine, it’s better to be safe than sorry. “You do you,” as the saying goes. Like in twelve-step programs, there is a reasonable expectation you will relapse a week, a month, a year, a decade from now. It’s fine.

Don’t beat yourself up about it.

What can we do to recover from it all? In my view?

The first step toward recovery is simple.

We just have to listen.


If you or anyone you know is in need of help, contact Lifeline on 13 11 14 or BeyondBlue 1300 22 4636. Just want to talk? Call me on 0417 120 749.

Everybody's Doing It, Why Not You?

If you've stepped outside since October, it's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.

What that actually means to you is as various as people in general. It could mean dragging plastic trees around the house; spending up big and forgetting it until your statement arrives; or you could be of a faith that only observes this bizarre ritual at a distance.

The language of Christmas - and likewise the language of anti-consumerist sentiments in opposition to it - are quite similar. They both try to persuade people into adopting a tradition that only dates back a couple of generations. Christmas as the gift-swapping, Turkey-engorged ritual we observe every 25th of December is as "made up" as Halloween; though detractors of the former will happily embrace the latter.

Many "traditions" are what we'd refer to today as "viral marketing campaigns"; the DeBeers diamond cartel insisting men save up at least 'three months salary' to buy their fiance an engagement ring with a diamond encrusted on top. That was dreamed up by the N.W. Ayer ad agency in the 1900s, to prop up what was once an abundant and intrinsically worthless gemstone.

We as humans (seem to) need ritual, repetition. It feels safe, and it feels predictable. If we arrived home after work each night and our keys worked one time in ten, we'd feel pretty out of sorts. Marketing and advertising around Christmas often depicts the familiar and cozy - even though a snow-driven Christmas is largely a product of the American imagination. Our drink containers, wrapping paper - even Christmas crackers - all show us images of Snowmen, candy canes, and hot cups of cocoa. All this in the middle of blazing summer, on a continent far removed from the frosted-over driveways of Europe or the United States.

Even as absurd as it sounds, this holiday has near universal support. Is that a good thing? Like most decisions we make in life, that's up to us and us alone. It's a weird one, when you think about it!

Why every soloist should journal

Dear Diary, I feel a bit nervous telling everyone about writing in you. What if they laugh at me? What if they think I’m being precious? Worst of all, what if they ignore me?!

Well, at least I got it out there. I tried my best. That’s all that matters.

Journalling is a time-honoured tradition. So many people that shaped the world jotted down their thoughts for the day, every day (or close enough to it.): Albert Einstein, Marie Curie, Alexis de Toqueville, George S. Patton, Charles Darwin, Thomas Edison, George Lucas, Alfred Deakin, Teddy Roosevelt. That’s some great company, there. Research even tells us that outstanding leadership requires insight, and writing a journal can help achieve that.

That’s not to say journalling will spur you to instant success, of course. But it does give you pause to reflect, analyse, and process where you are and where you’d like to go.

Read the entire post on Flying Solo.

How To Make Your Writing Out Of This World

The iconic space station, Deep Space Nine.

The iconic space station, Deep Space Nine.

One of my favourite TV shows is Star Trek. My favourite spin-off is Deep Space Nine. My least favourite is Voyager. Let me tell you a story about both of these shows. (Be prepared for a journey through time and space until we land back on Planet Earth!)

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine was a bold effort in television at the time. (Not as bold as its rival Babylon 5, but that’s another story.) This was a science fiction show using their abundant technology to stay still. Star Trek was, and is, about exploring strange new worlds. Deep Space Nine was set on a space station. Things interacted with it, not the other way around.

Star Trek: Voyager put a twist on what had come before, however. The premise of “exploring strange new worlds” was still the pillar of the show. However, this time the crew of the titular USS Voyager finds themselves stranded in the Delta Quadrant, 70.000 light years from Earth. Even with the futuristic faster-than-light tech that Star Trek relies on for storytelling, this means a 75-year journey back.

During season two of their epic seven-season run, Deep Space Nine began serialising their stories. They introduced a chilling antagonist in the Dominion, bent on destroying the peaceful Federation and her allies. For a show that was set on a space station, their adventures and conflicts took place between people and tough moral situations. This was an age where binge watching and catch-ups weren’t an option (1993-1999). If you missed a week, you missed a vital part. The final season wrapped up narrative threads artfully set up in the preceding five seasons.

Voyager was the opposite. In comparison, Voyager was a cartoon. Anything that blew up the ship, imperilled the crew, or caused mischief in the Holodeck reset the next week. Voyager was indestructible, from a narrative point of view.

Deep Space Nine was created with no endgame in mind. Voyager had an endgame – get back to Earth. In fact, production staff titled the last episode Endgame. As predicted, they returned to Earth. They had to, right?

So what does this have to do with writing and communication?

Back To Earth - Communication with Purpose

Screenwriting is a form of communication – to directors, actors, prop masters, designers, costumers and so on. So is your writing – to managers, customers, distributors, suppliers, and so on.

Every piece of writing you set to create must have an endgame. There has to be a reason for it, and a set of outcomes you want to achieve. If you lose sight of that endgame, people will tell. It’s why fans pilloried Voyager at the time (and still do to this day.)

Some pieces of writing such as an annual report or a request for comment have an endgame baked into it. A request for comment is defined by its title - it’s asking for requests for comment! But the endgame is not enough. It has to reach out and touch someone. This is the basis for all types of writing. Sharing our wants, needs, and experience using the medium of words.

Connecting With Humanity - Communication with Passion

Once you’ve established an endgame, Deep Space Nine, unlike Voyager, had vulnerability. This vulnerability served a purpose. If your message has no heart, it is pushing uphill to connect with people. If you write without exposing yourself as a vulnerable individual with conflicts and feelings of your own, it falls flat.

Vulnerability is how we connect with readers - the Ancient Greeks called it “pathos”, a critical part of rhetoric, or the art of persuasion. You can connect with readers in a book, an essay, or even a simple email. Vulnerability expert, author, and TED sensation Dr. Brene Brown says vulnerability is the beginning of courage, and courage helps us belong in the world. She says:

“Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.”

Perennial business cliche (and he’s a cliche for 74.8 billion reasons) and Berkshire Hathaway founder Warren Buffett always has an endgame and a vulnerability. As he says himself:

“Whenever I sit down to write the annual report, I pretend I am writing it to one of my sisters. Though highly intelligent, they are not experts on accounting or finance. They will understand plain English, but jargon may puzzle them. My goal is simply to give the information I would wish them to supply me if our positions are reversed. To succeed, I don’t need to be Shakespeare; I must have a sincere desire to inform.”

When you reveal yourself as a real person through your writing, you make every instalment an unmissable piece of your story. It must have passion, and it must have purpose.

So in your writing, what will you be? Deep Space Nine, or Voyager?


Want copywriting that's out this world for your business?

Do you have once-a-year books?

Philip K. Dick.

Philip K. Dick.

In the writing game, I feel that you need to consume more than you produce. That is, writers should really read more than they write. Busy lifestyles command more of our time in ever thinning slices, but reading should be a top priority for anyone who communicates in a professional setting. How you divide that time is up to you: some prefer magazines, others prefer non-fiction. I maintain that a variety of styles and sources is best for a well-rounded “education” on writing. I think reading deeply is as important as reading widely. The path to mastery is not one, but many. I try to read the most pertinent in my collection at least once a year, to remind myself of certain facts and certain perspectives.

Non-fiction

Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman

I’ve mentioned this book on the blog before, but it’s more relevant than ever. Those scratching their heads at how the US populace could elect a Reality TV president, this book written 30 years prior gives insight other commentators merely skirt around. I mean, we already had the Reality TV war (Iraq) and the Reality TV terror attack (September 11), was a Reality TV leader of the free world that far-fetched? Postman shows us a media culture obsessed with “feel-good” over “facts,” and the biases of our mediums that conspire to keep it that way.

Language in Thought and Action by Samuel I. Hayakawa

The “popular” text on General Semantics and language studies, a must for those who want to discover their own semantic biases and the biases of others. It too delves into logic games, multi-valued orientations vs. two-valued “absolutisms”, poetry and the advertiser, what words really “mean”, and much more. An essential book for those working in communications.

Fiction

Nineteen-Eighty Four by George Orwell

This book was one of the first I’d read in high school and has stuck with me ever since. I think I’m attracted to the linguistic element of the book, Newspeak, and the narrowing of our experience as Big Brother eliminates complex ideas. “You don't grasp the beauty of the destruction of words,” says Parsons, our protagonist Winston Smith’s co-worker in the Ministry of Truth. Reading it sends a chill down my spine each time. Compare “Ministry of Truth” to “Social Justice” or “Fake news.”

Ubik by Philip K. Dick

One of the first ever books I’d read of Philip K. Dick, and one that demonstrates the power of words to craft an alternate reality. The mention or non-mention of certain phrases and passages turns a world on our head, as does the revelation and suppression of certain bits of information. It’s a philosophical tome, a book about running out of time, and much more.

Do you have once-a-year-books?

 

A Word Sparking Star Wars and Real Wars

A Word Sparking Star Wars and Real Wars

Star Wars: The Force Awakens drowned us this summer, with merchandising ranging from mascara to oranges on store shelves. Once I saw the new film, I wanted to see the original theatrical versions, undiluted by George Lucas’ meddling. Lucasfilm insists they no longer exist. Of course, legions of fans took it upon themselves to reconstruct the films using a variety of sources. The most controversial change in the first film takes place in the Mos Eisley cantina scene. (spoiler alert – but really, you should’ve seen Star Wars by now!) Green gilled and bug-eyed Greedo corners smuggler Han Solo. Han’s a marked man and Greedo’s itching to collect. In the original version, (after stalling and Han drawing his blaster) Han shoots Greedo “in cold blood.” Here’s what the shooting script says:

“Suddenly the slimy alien disappears in a blinding flash of light.  Han pulls his smoking gun from beneath the table as the other patrons look on in bemused amazement.”

Later revisions show Greedo shooting first, then Han and Greedo shooting at the same time. “So what?” you might think. This visually insignificant change is one that contains multitudes.

It’s supposed to inform viewers that Solo isn’t so trustworthy. Ben and Luke have put in their lot with this low-life braggart. We’re supposed to feel uneasy about this hasty alliance. It changes the tenor of the film. Han could have sold Ben and Luke if captured by the Imperials, left them for dead at any time, etc.

Another far more tragic example of subtle changes having long reaching effects was during the last gasp of World War II. Japan, threatened by invasion from the United States and fast running out of resources, was determined to fight until the last man. The “Big Three” (United Kingdom, Soviet Union and the US) issued an ultimatum for surrender to the Japanese. The Japanese responded in the negative, but suffered from mistranslation. A word – mokusatsuhas two meanings in Japanese. The first being “ignore” and the other, “refrain from comment.” It was the difference between “let us think about it” and “We refuse!” If the message was translated as “no comment,” the Japanese and US may have arrived at a surrender deal, preventing the twin atomic horrors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. This misinterpretation struck consequences far beyond the imaginations of its writers and readers.

It’s a chilling lesson for clarity and precision in communication. We may think that subtle differences make no difference, although we're proven wrong time and time again. If you believe that words are your ally, do – keep in mind words might turn on you without provocation. Remember always: "Expect to misunderstand and expect to be misunderstood."

The Pointy End Podcast now up!

Tom Valcanis is a journalist, copywriter and political scientist. He believes that words can explode! Well, only if you get the right words. If you can, they won’t just explode once, they'll go on exploding forever.

A month or so ago, I was humbled to be a guest on Active Elements Radio The Pointy End podcast, hosted by Dr. Leslie Fisher. Dr. Fisher is a good friend and colleague of mine, and we've had many long conversations about a variety of topics during our meetings at the NAB Village. The Pointy End is his podcast series looking at "the pointy end" of what people in small business do, in probing and insightful detail. It's a relaxed but no less informative talk...I hope!

It was a great privilege to guest "star" on the podcast, which you can hear above. We talked about the "pointy end" of copywriting, its relation to journalism and media culture as a whole. About 40 minutes - let me know your thoughts in the comments!