Parsing language is one of the things lawyers do, or at least are expected to do.  The truth is, we often don’t do it, or at least not any better than non-lawyers.  And non-lawyers do a fairly lousy job of it.

Yesterday, I wrote of Mirriam’s query about the meaning of “thought leader.”  It’s a silly, meaningless phrase, but at least Mirriam asked.  We’re inundated with strings of meaningless words in the blawgosphere, mostly by muddy thinkers who adopt jargon that sounds almost as if it means something so that even muddier thinkers will wrap it around themselves.  This is the way of marketing.

But there are more serious issues arising from loose language, which struck me as I read Scott Henson’s Grits post, entitled New York implements statewide eyewitness ID guidelines.  The story upon which the post was based certainly gives the impression that New York has, indeed, implemented new guidelines.  The problem is that New York, meaning the entity that holds the keys to prison cells and sends out tax bills, did no such thing. 

The story refers to the District Attorneys Association having come up with a tepid “best practices” for the conduct of eyewitness identifications, that suggests some reforms and is intended to forestall serious reform that might be put into law by the real New York (as in State government).  In other words, it’s a nice idea, but if it doesn’t happen that way, so what?  This isn’t law.  New York did not implement anything.  It’s a trick for the less-than-careful. 

George Orwell warned us about the use of language to muddy our thinking and blunt our ability to differentiate thoughts.  He feared that government, by the elimination of language that could be used to expose its failings and dishonesty, would leave us incapable of challenging it.  I fear that we’re doing the government’s job for it.  It takes a lot of work to read through stories, press releases, whatever, to distinguish the truth from the misleading fluff, designed to prey on muddiness.  It anticipates our unwillingness to do the hard work involved in thinking.  We too often accommodate.  As my daughter once informed me, she hated thinking.  It hurt.

It’s not just the hard work of thinking, but the unpleasant work of being disagreeable that prevents our scrutinizing and challenging the mud.  Gideon called me cynical when I questioned news of “New York’s implementation,” but I wasn’t cynical at all.  Rather skeptical.  Over the years, I’ve learned to question things, and I do.  I admit it, I’m a skeptic.

Be a skeptic too.  Question what you read, what you’re told, what you see.  Granted, sometimes muddy language is nothing more than an inartful expression.  Often, however, it reflects an effort to mislead and deceive, to suggest something that its purveyor wants you to think that isn’t true, but isn’t sufficiently false that they can later be called a liar.  It’s a test to see how gullible, how willingly ignorant, you can be.

Yes, it’s unpleasant being the one who questions others.  It’s particularly unpleasant when the mass of recipients of this information happily take a mud bath, seemingly cheering it on as if it’s epiphany.  Lately, I see people retwitting posts that contain nothing more than unrelated words and phrases strung together as if it conveys some incredible message when it’s nothing more than gobbledygook, and adding in their kudos for such a “great post.” 

Sometimes this is done just to curry favor with the writer, as many care nothing for content and everything for having people they don’t know think well of them.  They are willing to sacrifice any semblance of integrity for a new follower.  Better to be nice than, well, anything else.  How many are trying to gain popularity to compensate for childhood slights?

Is this really all you care to be?  Another warm body on the hand-holding bandwagon of fuzzy thought and meaningless words?

Don’t be afraid of appearing disagreeable because you won’t be the most loved and adored person on the internet.  It’s okay to be a skeptic, even if it means that you can’t agree with what everybody else is saying.  You may not always be right, but at least you won’t be a willing fool.

Read carefully.  Think carefully.  Question as much as you can.  We’ll all be better for it.