Yesterday, I suggested that the country could achieve significant energy savings by the simple and virtually free device of permitting left turns at red traffic lights.
Even greater savings in fuel consumption could be had by replacing as many traffic lights as possible with mini-roundabouts.
A few years ago, for example, there weren’t any traffic lights in the city of Wells, and the worst traffic jam I’d ever been in was one in which there were three cars in front of me (and that was at 8.55 a.m in the morning).
But Somerset County Council, aided and abetted by their highways consultants, W.S. Atkins, soon put a stop to all that by installing numerous sets of traffic lights at as many junctions as they could find.
As a result, Wells now has plenty of traffic jams in which, more often than not, you have to keep your vehicle idling while waiting for no traffic at all to come from any other direction.
In every place where the lights were installed, traffic flow would have worked more smoothly – and have cost far less money – if the County Council had spent a few pounds on white paint to create mini-roundabouts.
As there’s so little traffic in Wells, fuel conservation would have been significantly improved by a reduction in (a) idling time and (b) the number of times vehicles have to move off from a standing start.
Are you ahead of reading this post?
A few months ago, I posted a 'Jargon and gobbledygook comedy sketch' that was based on various words and phrases in common usage that that I find irritating and/or annoying.
One that baffles me more than most is the ever-increasing preference of writers in the press and broadcast media for using the phrase ‘ahead of’ when they actually mean ‘before’, as in the following recent examples:
‘Man scales plinth ahead of launch.’ – BBC website.
‘Today's co-ordinated attacks came with violence surging in Afghanistan ahead of presidential and provincial elections next month times on line.’ – Times Online.
'Kevin Pietersen will see a specialist about his longstanding Achilles problem ahead of the third Ashes Test at Edgbaston.’ – Sky News website.
In these and the scores of examples you can read or hear every day, wouldn't it sound much more normal and natural if they’d used the good old English word ‘before’.
Is it just me, or did something go seriously wrong with the way I originally learnt to speak (and, as far as I know, continue to speak) my native tongue.
I’m pretty sure I didn’t go to school ahead of going to university any more than I became a father ahead of becoming a grandfather. But I do know that I did both of the former BEFORE experiencing either of the latter.
So can anyone explain to me why is it that so many journalists and editors are so obsessed with using a way of saying ‘before’ that’s not in common usage among any section of the British public (outside the media)?
One that baffles me more than most is the ever-increasing preference of writers in the press and broadcast media for using the phrase ‘ahead of’ when they actually mean ‘before’, as in the following recent examples:
‘Man scales plinth ahead of launch.’ – BBC website.
‘Today's co-ordinated attacks came with violence surging in Afghanistan ahead of presidential and provincial elections next month times on line.’ – Times Online.
'Kevin Pietersen will see a specialist about his longstanding Achilles problem ahead of the third Ashes Test at Edgbaston.’ – Sky News website.
In these and the scores of examples you can read or hear every day, wouldn't it sound much more normal and natural if they’d used the good old English word ‘before’.
Is it just me, or did something go seriously wrong with the way I originally learnt to speak (and, as far as I know, continue to speak) my native tongue.
I’m pretty sure I didn’t go to school ahead of going to university any more than I became a father ahead of becoming a grandfather. But I do know that I did both of the former BEFORE experiencing either of the latter.
So can anyone explain to me why is it that so many journalists and editors are so obsessed with using a way of saying ‘before’ that’s not in common usage among any section of the British public (outside the media)?
When did it start being used, and where on earth did it come from in the first place?
I'd really appreciate it if anyone can shed any light on all this going forward – and there’s another one that sounds just as out of touch with common usage and raises much the same questions.
I'd really appreciate it if anyone can shed any light on all this going forward – and there’s another one that sounds just as out of touch with common usage and raises much the same questions.
Nudging in a more enlightened direction
Rob Greenland has an interesting post on The Social Business about the encouraging reduction in plastic bag use – and the even more encouraging way it’s been achieved:
'It's in the news today that supermarkets just missed their target of 50% reduction in plastic bag use (they got to 48%). I'm not a big fan of supermarkets but I think on this one they need to be congratulated. Remember the reaction against proposals to tax plastic bags, and how, many believed, people would never change their habits.
'Far too many bags are still used but a 48% reduction is a massive improvement. If businesses and the public can get their act together on this issue, what other seemingly impossible environmental problems might we solve? It may also suggest that it's better to nudge people into doing the right thing (like the clever question the checkout assistant was trained to ask), rather than taxing them into behavioural change.'
I couldn’t agree more with his recommendation of the nudge-nudge approach and would like to add a couple of simple but effective options that wouldn’t even need nudge-nudge because they would not only achieve savings automatically, but would also be be virtually free and require no new targets or elaborate regulatory controls.
1. ALLOW LEFT TURNS AT RED TRAFFIC LIGHTS
If you’ve ever driven in the USA, you’ll know that most states allow drivers to turn right on a red light if there’s no traffic coming from that direction.
This was arguably the single most important legacy of Gerald Ford’s administration and saves fuel by reducing (a) idling time and (b) the number of times you have to start off from a complete stop. Apart from reducing overall fuel consumption and emissions, the rule brings the added benefit of instant financial savings for motorists and transport companies.
In the UK, for obvious reasons the equivalent would be to permit left turns at red lights – and could be introduced instantly at minimal cost to the taxpayer.
2. REDUCE ROAD AND STREET LIGHTING
In an age when car head-lights are so much better than they used to be, why do there have to be so many lights on so many miles of motorway – and why do they stay on into the early hours of the morning?
And can we really justify so many street-lights in our town centres, suburbs and villages?
Whereas the first recommendation could be brought in instantly, this one would need a bit of experimentation to get the balance right. As a start, I’d suggest turning off 50% of all road and street lighting and see what happened.
Moon rhetoric from Neil Armstrong, JFK & Werner von Braun
About twelve years after the moon landing in 1969, I started writing about the power of rhetorical techniques like the contrast, and remember being vaguely amused and delighted when I realised that, of all the possible things that Neil Armstrong could have said 40 years ago, it was a simple contrast that was beamed back to earth.
[A] That's one small step for man;
[B] one giant leap for mankind.
But this historic achievement was also the fulfillment of earlier memorable rhetorical flourishes from President Kennedy, who’d committed the USA to land a man on the moon within a decade. And here he is cranking out a contrast and rounding off his message off with a three-part list:
We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things,
[A] not because they are easy,
[B] but because they are hard,
because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is
[1] one that we are willing to accept,
[2] one we are unwilling to postpone
[3] and one we intend to win.
(The full text of the speech is HERE).
Rocket scientist though he may have been, Werner von Braun, without whose brains NASA might never have met Kennedy’s deadline, was no slouch when it came to coining memorable quotations.
When the first of the V2 rockets he’d designed for Hitler hit London, it’s been claimed that his mind was already on space – as he was quoted as saying: "The rocket worked perfectly except for landing on the wrong planet."
Other famous lines from von Braun include the following:
“Man is the best computer we can put aboard a spacecraft, and the only one that can be mass produced with unskilled labor.”
“Our sun is one of 100 billion stars in our galaxy. Our galaxy is one of billions of galaxies populating the universe. It would be the height of presumption to think that we are the only living things in that enormous immensity.”
“Research is what I'm doing when I don't know what I'm doing.”
“Don't tell me that man doesn't belong out there. Man belongs wherever he wants to go -- and he'll do plenty well when he gets there.”
“We can lick gravity, but sometimes the paperwork is overwhelming.”
“There is just one thing I can promise you about the outer-space program - your tax-dollar will go further.”
“Crash programs fail because they are based on theory that, with nine women pregnant, you can get a baby a month.”
“It will free man from the remaining chains, the chains of gravity which still tie him to this planet.”
“For my confirmation, I didn't get a watch and my first pair of long pants, like most Lutheran boys. I got a telescope. My mother thought it would make the best gift.”
For someone who helped the Nazis to develop the V2 rockets that launched so much terror and destruction on London, US citizenship wasn't such a bad gift either.
[A] That's one small step for man;
[B] one giant leap for mankind.
But this historic achievement was also the fulfillment of earlier memorable rhetorical flourishes from President Kennedy, who’d committed the USA to land a man on the moon within a decade. And here he is cranking out a contrast and rounding off his message off with a three-part list:
We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things,
[A] not because they are easy,
[B] but because they are hard,
because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is
[1] one that we are willing to accept,
[2] one we are unwilling to postpone
[3] and one we intend to win.
(The full text of the speech is HERE).
Rocket scientist though he may have been, Werner von Braun, without whose brains NASA might never have met Kennedy’s deadline, was no slouch when it came to coining memorable quotations.
When the first of the V2 rockets he’d designed for Hitler hit London, it’s been claimed that his mind was already on space – as he was quoted as saying: "The rocket worked perfectly except for landing on the wrong planet."
Other famous lines from von Braun include the following:“Man is the best computer we can put aboard a spacecraft, and the only one that can be mass produced with unskilled labor.”
“Our sun is one of 100 billion stars in our galaxy. Our galaxy is one of billions of galaxies populating the universe. It would be the height of presumption to think that we are the only living things in that enormous immensity.”
“Research is what I'm doing when I don't know what I'm doing.”
“Don't tell me that man doesn't belong out there. Man belongs wherever he wants to go -- and he'll do plenty well when he gets there.”
“We can lick gravity, but sometimes the paperwork is overwhelming.”
“There is just one thing I can promise you about the outer-space program - your tax-dollar will go further.”
“Crash programs fail because they are based on theory that, with nine women pregnant, you can get a baby a month.”
“It will free man from the remaining chains, the chains of gravity which still tie him to this planet.”
“For my confirmation, I didn't get a watch and my first pair of long pants, like most Lutheran boys. I got a telescope. My mother thought it would make the best gift.”
For someone who helped the Nazis to develop the V2 rockets that launched so much terror and destruction on London, US citizenship wasn't such a bad gift either.
Rhetoric revival?
In case you missed Sal Pinto's comment on a recent post, he's drawn attention to the news that a new MA course in Rhetoric is about to be launched by a British University, full details of which can be inspected by following the links from HERE.
As he says, "Progress!".
The picture, by the way is of one of the 'old schools' in Oxford, not the University of Central Lancashire where the new MA will be taught.
Book plugging
If you're wondering why my books have suddenly appeared in such a prominent place at the top of the page, there are two reasons.
The first is that the Amazon rankings already show that the initial surge in sales after Speech-making and Presentation Made Easy was mentioned on the BBC website has already subsided after only a few days exposure. So instead of posting stuff about the impact on sales of BBC 'plug-a-book' shows, I thought I should be doing a bit more in the way of plugging my own books on the blog.
The second reason is that I'm only just beginning to get the hang of the rather inflexible Blogspot templates, and it's taken me this long to work out how to insert pictorial links to Amazon.
The first is that the Amazon rankings already show that the initial surge in sales after Speech-making and Presentation Made Easy was mentioned on the BBC website has already subsided after only a few days exposure. So instead of posting stuff about the impact on sales of BBC 'plug-a-book' shows, I thought I should be doing a bit more in the way of plugging my own books on the blog.
The second reason is that I'm only just beginning to get the hang of the rather inflexible Blogspot templates, and it's taken me this long to work out how to insert pictorial links to Amazon.
How to stay awake during a repetitive ceremony
Graduation ceremonies are important landmarks for graduates, families and universities.
But seeing 125 youngsters trooping across a stage to shake hands and receive their degrees can hardly be said to be the most gripping of theatrical events, especially when there's only one of the 125 that you actually know and care about.
I’ve just been to such an event, at which it quickly became apparent that we were in for a long wait (over half an hour, as it turned out) before our candidate got anywhere near the stage. Nor were we alone, because there were about 250 other people in the audience in exactly the same position as us.
All of which raises the interesting question of how you stay awake, as one unfamiliar name after another is read out, and as one unfamiliar smiling face after another appears on stage. For me, the answer is easy, because occasionally there's an advantage in having a technical interest in how such ceremonies work,
And I have to say that this particular one worked like clockwork, and did so in two intriguing respects that probably weren’t even noticed by anyone else in the audience.
The first was the supreme efficiency with which the ‘clap on the name’ technique ensured that every candidate was applauded as they walked into the limelight, with the applause coming in on cue a fraction of a second after each name was read out.
The second piece of clockwork was that the ovation in every single case lasted for exactly 7 seconds. No one told the audience to time their clapping to fit within the standard 7-9 second span found in the vast majority of bursts of applause, but the fact is that they did - with mechanical precision.
And the fact that they did so meant that, in every case, it sounded about right – less than 7 seconds wouldn’t have sounded complimentary enough; more than 9 seconds would have sounded more enthusiastic than necessary.
The only reason I’m able to report this extraordinary 100% regularity is that I sat there timing them all, which not only kept me wide awake, but also enabled me to test a hypothesis or two.
At the start, for example, I wondered whether there might be a difference between the amount of applause awarded to men and women, younger and older graduates, members of different ethnic groups, etc. But there was no hint of any such difference, as all of them got exactly the same 7 second ration.
Such negative results can sometimes be disappointing, but not if the process of coming up with them keeps you awake and attentive from the beginning to the end of what might otherwise have been a rather tedious experience (apart from our 30 second reason for being there).
There were, however, two exceptions that did get an outstanding 15 seconds of applause (outstanding because it’s twice as long as normal). One was for the collected assembly of graduates themselves, and the other was for their teachers – which is also exactly as it should be.
(Further details about the 'clap on the name' technique and the 7-9 second standard burst of applause can, of course, be found in my books).
But seeing 125 youngsters trooping across a stage to shake hands and receive their degrees can hardly be said to be the most gripping of theatrical events, especially when there's only one of the 125 that you actually know and care about.
I’ve just been to such an event, at which it quickly became apparent that we were in for a long wait (over half an hour, as it turned out) before our candidate got anywhere near the stage. Nor were we alone, because there were about 250 other people in the audience in exactly the same position as us.
All of which raises the interesting question of how you stay awake, as one unfamiliar name after another is read out, and as one unfamiliar smiling face after another appears on stage. For me, the answer is easy, because occasionally there's an advantage in having a technical interest in how such ceremonies work,
And I have to say that this particular one worked like clockwork, and did so in two intriguing respects that probably weren’t even noticed by anyone else in the audience.
The first was the supreme efficiency with which the ‘clap on the name’ technique ensured that every candidate was applauded as they walked into the limelight, with the applause coming in on cue a fraction of a second after each name was read out.
The second piece of clockwork was that the ovation in every single case lasted for exactly 7 seconds. No one told the audience to time their clapping to fit within the standard 7-9 second span found in the vast majority of bursts of applause, but the fact is that they did - with mechanical precision.
And the fact that they did so meant that, in every case, it sounded about right – less than 7 seconds wouldn’t have sounded complimentary enough; more than 9 seconds would have sounded more enthusiastic than necessary.
The only reason I’m able to report this extraordinary 100% regularity is that I sat there timing them all, which not only kept me wide awake, but also enabled me to test a hypothesis or two.
At the start, for example, I wondered whether there might be a difference between the amount of applause awarded to men and women, younger and older graduates, members of different ethnic groups, etc. But there was no hint of any such difference, as all of them got exactly the same 7 second ration.
Such negative results can sometimes be disappointing, but not if the process of coming up with them keeps you awake and attentive from the beginning to the end of what might otherwise have been a rather tedious experience (apart from our 30 second reason for being there).
There were, however, two exceptions that did get an outstanding 15 seconds of applause (outstanding because it’s twice as long as normal). One was for the collected assembly of graduates themselves, and the other was for their teachers – which is also exactly as it should be.
(Further details about the 'clap on the name' technique and the 7-9 second standard burst of applause can, of course, be found in my books).
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