David L. Hoof

Strictly Speaking

Saying What You Mean

June 20, 2014

Tags: speech, intention, word choice, nuance, synonyms, denotation, conotation, thesaurus


A word related to another by identity, or near identity. Therefore synonyms are erythrocytes in the life blood of a thesaurus. Ostensibly an inevitability of the diversity in the root languages of origin, the belief in modular identities can also become limiting, in suggesting that one word is as good as, or interchangeable with another. Almost never is this the case. Almost always, even words with convergent denotations have quite distinct connotations, and connotations are essential in calculating the way that a word will be heard and processed. A good example would be “policeman,” and “cop.”

Tribal Noise: Misuse, Overuse, Predictability and Meaninglessness

November 25, 2013

Tags: language, words, word choice, communication, meaning


Scientists define accuracy as the nearness to that elusive Eldorado of the mind, the truth. If one attempts to determine the rest mass of an electron, as a start it might do to start with Millikan’s famous, clever, crude and laboriously brilliant oil drop experiment. But that is just a start, and science pursues accuracy relentlessly. So you will need to and continue to measure this fundamental unit of our universe in different, independent experimental ways, using different experimental results that should – if the theories connecting them are correct – converge on one value good enough to plug in to experiments that are, in turn, used to measure other fundamental properties of units containing electrons, such as atoms, molecules, and ions.

Of course the results of careful experiments are expected to be reproducible, but reproducibility is communicated by an entirely different word, precision, which for the purposes of making this discussion long enough for a published book, is discussed again under – why not? – precision. It is done precisely because of Marine Corps dogma that if you repeat enough times to a recruit, however stupid, something that you want him to believe, he (or these days, she) will eventually accept and apply it.

In science, the purpose of reference books is to accumulate in tabular form from the professional literature such values as are, at that fleeting moment, the received wisdom. Sometimes, more often than one might hope, errors occur.

And why not? The books are compiled by humans based on other humans whose motives and methods are occasionally not as pure as their putative ideals.

Once during a famous multiparametric experiment into a matter so arcane and yet nonetheless vital that Richard Feynman felt driven to pursue it with his legendary indefatigable graduate students.

Feynman’s experiment was, in the parlance of physicists (who speak to each other and argue with God), infallibly structured. The expected answer could, as often in physics, be predicted in advance. Yet the measurement he got, time after time, continued to give an uncalculated answer.

Bringing us back, along the conversational Mobius strip, to accuracy, and the fact that when a value is given, it is never perfectly rendered. To the extent that either experimental device or fundamental prohibitions dictate, accuracy is always plus or minus something.

On a grocer’s scale you can measure the weight of an apple to plus or minus, say, one eighth or .125 of a pound. And so the weight that is given, even if digitally presented, can be greater than the value indicated by this much, or less by this much. Since its weight is uncertain by the span between the low and the high, the value shown is uncertain by twice this 0.125 pound, or 0.25 pound. This isn’t unfairness in commerce. It’s just the limit in the Hooke’s Law constant, k, in the spring under the pan.

Every scientist has to live with this, and to report it. But Feynman’s famous funny experiment was not just off by the cumulative errors of all the devices used in the experiment. It was off, and always off, by an amount that corresponded to the difference of a conventionally accepted physical constant that was used as given in the literature, as an assumption. And so this forced the brilliant Dr. Feynman, who was surely not joking, to ask, “As regards the value of this constant, how well do we know this ‘fact?’”

The answer to that question was not just a successful outcome for Feynman’s clever experiment, but a revision of the value of the formerly accepted constant to its correct, and, yes, accurate value. You will not find the person establishing the former value to introduce himself at parties as, “The guy who provided the wrong number that cost Dick Feynman a hundred hours of anguish.”

Nobody likes to be the guy who used to be right. Worse, of course, was the fact that Feynman, while Einsteinian in asking questions that were very simple and profound, was also handsome, charming, funny and entertaining. Mere people, the ones who write and rewrite history, will forgive a scientist like John Cavendish being a fulminating misogynist because he was, surpassing that fault, a brilliant physicist. Ad they might have forgiven Richard Feynman at least half of his ineffably delightful traits but for one: women loved him.

In matters of love, it cannot be said that a woman loves a man plus or minus anything, because so far no one has established a basic unit for love, or devised a scale upon which it can be measured. Mostly it’s more absolute that way, either everything or nothing. True love is chronically infatuating.

But in other human competitions, especially sports, there is usually a metric that establishes with some accuracy who wins and who doesn’t.

In the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing, Michael Phelps is said to have won his record setting eighth gold medal in the finals of the one hundred meter butterfly by 0.01 second. His victory was measured on a timing system that was claimed to be accurate to plus or minute 0.005 seconds. No one ever verified this. In China, those who question authority end up submerging from view, with their organs popping up in paying recipients from Stockholm to Tierra del Fuego.

But assuming the Chinese timers were accurate to the precision mentioned, this means that Michael Phelps’ time could have been 0.005 seconds slower, and his rival, silver medalist Lásló Cseh of Hungary could have been 0.005 seconds faster, meaning a dead heat.

This happens, even officially. In the immediately preceding Games in Athens in 2004 the gold medal in 50 meter freestyle was shared by Gary Hall, Jr. and Anthony Edwards. A silver medal was unawarded, the next place being third, for bronze. Like it or not, them’s the rules.

The Gold Standard of Words, Part 2

November 23, 2013

Tags: language, words, word choice, communication, meaning


The emergence of excellence in communication does not require ponderously long sentences. It is catalyzed by using words that are correct in detonation, informative in connotation, and sufficiently succinct as to disallow confusion in meaning. In a world where even the distinct consequences of shouting, “Fire!” may be either a group response to a conflagration or total thermonuclear war, it is important that intent and care inform word choice.

Now let’s see the way that the current usage of a number of familiar words indicates that many current speakers have lost the command of language in service of meaning. The importance of immediate acceptance, as indicated by the epidemic of friending on Facebook has shrunk and hidebound our core vocabulary at exactly the time when the complexity of future issues requires an extension of its reach.

What follows is a necessarily incomplete illustration of how this shrinkage is diminishing the ability to communicate precisely. And to the unanchored drift, we need to recall the Bard’s advice:

“Suit the action to the word, the word to the
action; with this special observance, that you
o’erstep not the modesty of nature.”
- Hamlet, Act III, scene 2

More to come.

The Gold Standard of Words, Part 1

November 22, 2013

Tags: language, words, word choice, communication, meaning


In order to polarize my argument, I’ll provide you with a linguistic choice. It is not an arbitrary choice, or a choice of preference, or one that skews the field of reason toward a favored conclusion; it is a linguistically utilitarian choice. It favors choices that improve the density in meaning that result from making the best choice among many available options.

In its most extreme form, unshaded by the many nuances that language often brings, it is this: either words are unconfusing universally understood symbols of meaning that guide communication, discussion, argument, agreement, actions and commitments, or they tend toward familiar noises, issued without attention to a emotional connotation or deep meaning, but only for the purpose of creating the illusion of agreeability, and for signaling that you belong to a group, share their beliefs, outlooks, values and hopes, and are not one of the dreaded Other.

Uttering familiar tribal noise indicates that you belong, are a person every other tribesman would like to share a beer with. By narrowing vocabulary and avoiding substance in your speech, you assure other tribesmen that no serious disagreement will arise, because by limiting the range of words used, utterances can never be divisive. By resetting your default to tribal noise, or MacLanguage, conformist usage forces words to change meaning to buttress the social purpose of unification.

The result is that the scientific convention of deliberately and consciously choosing exactly defined words, words that are dense in unambiguous meaning, words that encourage skepticism and dispute, is consciously suppressed in favor of the repetition of familiar, even contradictory words, words or gestures nurtured by social conventions – such as nodding, shrugging, and “whatever.”

If we could find a gold standard for word choice, it would require a density of meaning, words created as distinct for specific and important purposes not subordinated to intellectual pretenses, words not conscripted to create the appearance of meaning whereas in fact their use betrays a lack of understanding. E. B. White recognized a fundamental elegance in the English language: if a speaker or writer is conversant enough with its vocabulary and presses hard enough, he or she can almost always find the word with exactly the intended meaning.

This kind of definitive specificity eliminates the confusion of vagueries arising from using unspecific words, as in “Why didn’t you show up at the place and get the thing and the other thing along with whatever and bring them you know where after?”

In spoken American English, this sort of expression occurs every day. A clear improvement would be, “Why weren’t you at Sutton Place at three to pick up the salad and wine?” This question rephrases the former one with specific referents, and at a level of language that is no more demanding of immediate comprehension than its earlier version.

The recurrent point of such considerations is that unless the objective of speech is the simultaneous destruction of individuality and communication, a departure from the current trend toward ever narrower core vocabularies is essential.

Selected Works

suspense mystery
For every emerging independent woman today, men can be little better than annoying at best and downright monstrous at worst. A creation of a stolen NSA computer program, Fiona Halloran is launched into the present to assist faltering novelist Andy Delaney capture the market that has evaded him, the one for and about women. But there’s an emerging risk: increasing personal danger to them both. This doesn’t stop when they finish his latest novel, Babes & Bastards. It just spills over to the next best seller in a series starring Fiona Halloran, Nun No More. Look for it soon in a bookstore near you.
In the dying Montana town of Sanctuary, helf-Crow Deputy Redfawn Kravitz relentlessly tracks the killer of Senate candidate Jeb Holloway, who then starts picking off the best suspects, one-by-one.
Using only sounds as clues, a blind man must locate his six-year-old niece before kidnappers kill her.
historical mystery
Just before Oktoberfest in 1931, Adolf Hitler's niece and secret lover is found dead in a locked room in the Fuhrer's Munich flat. Pressured by the Nazis, the police rule it a suicide, but evidence suggests a cold blooded execution. If the killer can be outed, widespread outrage will thwart a maniac's rush to power.
A cheated wife goes way overboard to get revenge on - and a fair settlement from -- her uberrich husband, with terrifyingly hysterical results.
literary mystery
Little Gods is prep school noir, like A Separate Peace as if it were written by Alfred Hitchcock.
action adventure
A clandestine biowar attack on America reduces society to medieval chaos.
Approaching Christmas, a winter blizzard locks Chicago in snow. Among its residents, retired FBI poisons expert Tad Lindholm is a haunted man. Haunted by his past, haunted by his recently dead lover Yvette, haunted by the long shadows of too many empty booze bottles, haunted by depression, and tempted by an arsenal of deadly doses to end it all. At the same time, he is trapped by lingering suspicions that he alone synthesized the traceless toxins responsible for recent deaths. Numb with stubbornness, encircled by intersecting mysteries, Lindholm pursues the real killers among his enemies, only to discover an unimaginably personal betrayal.