Hobbes vs. Locke

All differences of political opinion boil down to the differences in the philosophies of Hobbes and Locke.

Hobbes believed we're at war with one another, all the time, “every man against every man.” We need government to keep us from killing each other over property. Without it, life would be "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short.”

Locke believed we want to live in peace with one another, all the time, and are governed by "natural law." We don't annihilate each other because self-preservation is basic to natural law. We need government only to act as a referee when we disagree over property.

Hobbes advocated for absolute monarchy; Locke, for representative democracy.

How about you?

A Knapsack of Nouns

A "team of lawyers" and a "herd of buffalo" exemplify the figure of speech we call the collective noun, which names a group of people or things.

Many were first recorded in the 15th century in manuals known as "Books of Courtesy," written to keep aristocrats from embarrassing themselves while on the hunt.

These nouns often evoked the behavior of the things named. So, for example, we say:

• A pride of lions
• A leap of leopards
• A burden of mules
• A murder of crows
• A gaggle of geese
• A stud of horses

Other collective nouns evoked the jobs of the people named. So, for example, we say:

• A tabernacle of bakers (a "tabernacle" was a merchant's stall)
• A misbelief of painters (artists created illusions)
• A stalk of foresters (these guys tracked down poachers in the woods)
• A sentence of judges (who spoke in legalese)
• A faith of merchants (meant ironically, since most were cheats)
• A superfluity of nuns (the convents were overcrowded)

To keep you from embarrassing yourself on the next hunt, I recommend these up-to-date collective nouns:

• A keep of recyclables
• A fancy of food trucks
• An annoyance of pop-ups
• A vanity of celebrities
• A swamp of congressmen
• An embarrassment of commanders in chief

HAT TIP to resident medievalist Ann Ramsey for suggesting this post. Opinions are my own.

Getting Even

Boy, if life were only like this.

— Woody Allen

In a 2005 interview in TV Guide, comedian Jack Carter described his run-in with Woody Allen.

"He was one of the top writers on The Gary Moore Show, where I was a regular," Carter said. "One day I was on a panel show with Woody and Mickey Rooney, and Woody was picking on Mickey unmercifully. I came to Mickey's defense and attacked Woody, and when we got back to The Gary Moore Show he wrote me out of it quickly. We've been enemies ever since."

Boy, if only you could write people out of the show. Revenge would come easy.

The year before Jack Carter's interview, scientists at the University of Zurich proved revenge doesn't have to come easy to be sweet.

They PET-scanned test-subjects' brains while they played a game. The game involved exchanging money, and the rules allowed any player to penalize another player if he made a greedy move. However, according to the rules, penalties came at a cost to both players.

The scientists found most players penalized selfish ones, even at their own expense.

The PET scans showed penalizing another player activated the dorsal striatum, the part of the brain involved in joy. They also showed a correlation between the strength of that activation and the size of the penalty imposed. Players with strong activations were willing to incur great expense to penalize others who were greedy.

The study suggested that activation of the dorsal striatum reflects an anticipation of joy in punishing people who misbehave. The greater the activation, the more willing you are to get revenge—even at your own expense.

7 Steps to an Authentic Brand Voice

Voice, writers say, is like a shirt: you choose the one in your closet that's best matched to the occasion.

If you're a brand marketer, that occasion is a "eureka moment" for your customer: either her first inquiry, first request, first purchase, first problem, first return, or first exposure to your ads.

"Writing is branding," says Matthew Stibbe, CEO of Articulate Marketing, by which he means voice is everything.

Voice, for a brand, lets you connect with customers like an actual person. Whole Foods is a professor of healthy living. Apple is a smug techie. Mailchimp is a stand-up comic. T. Rowe Price is a wise uncle.

If you haven't yet donned your brand's voice―haven't chosen the right shirt from your closet―you're not branding.

To do so, Stibbe recommends seven steps:

Conduct interviews. Speak face to face with leaders and learn their views on your organization and its values, employees, products and customers.

Analyze competitors. Learn what not to do by studying your competition.

Review your content. Look for an "accidental style guide" that might suggest precedents. Figure out, tone-wise, what the organization wants and tolerates.

Create a branding guide. Write a guide that makes clear your aspirations, and include examples of typical uses cases (the more mundane, the better). List examples of other voices you want to emulate (The Economist or Rolling Stone, for example.) and words that are required or forbidden.

Deploy. Put your style guide on an intranet site and promote it internally.

Train. Develop and deliver a training course in house. Train any outside writers, as well.

Proofread. Edit and proof everything.

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

I was eight when I decided to distrust government. 

Since I was not particularly precocious, distrust of government must have been something adults bred in kids in those days, the same way they bred healthy teeth in us.

Maybe my distrust came from an additive in the water. Or maybe it came from watching Duck and Cover in the school gymnasium.

There were troubles at the time with the Russians in Cuba, and our principal decided we should assemble each morning in the gym for an air-raid drill.

My elementary school was less than 10 miles from the Empire State Building, well-known from TV news as a target for the Russians' missiles.

As we watched Duck and Cover for maybe the tenth time one morning, my pal Mookie—a walking encyclopedia of esoterica—leaned over and said, "The movie's really stupid. It acts like you can hide, but when the bomb goes off, in six seconds we all turn into jelly."

I knew Mookie's data was always indisputable, and thus I learned to stop worrying, love the bomb, and distrust government.

Still do. 

And you? What's your story?