What difference does a name make?
For some people, apparently, quite a lot. So much so, in fact, that changing a name can change reality – at least for the one changing the name.
As I am sure you are aware, there has been a ton of discussion about the dangers of artificial intelligence (AI) lately. President Trump is trying to tamp down fears that the computer-based answer system will take over the world and eliminate not only jobs but the human race itself.
Simple solution: Change the name. Instead of artificial intelligence, we should be calling it super intelligence, Trump says.
Say what? Apparently, the artificial makes it scary. OK, but how is super better?
Personally, I find computers creating super intelligence a lot scarier than an acknowledgement that the information is being generated by something “artificial” rather than human.
The name change approach didn’t come as a surprise. Our president has shown a penchant for creating his own version of reality, and changing the name of everything from buildings to bodies of water to make it fit.
One of the scarier instances of this approach was when he decided to rebrand the Department of Defense as the Department of War. Talk about signaling your intentions!
Then we’ve got the silly season stuff. Do you know where the Gulf of America is? It’s right where the Gulf of Mexico is, silly. I thought it was a joke, but the AP (Associated Press for the non-newspaper types) got thrown out of the White House (for a little while) for refusing to use the name Gulf of America.
Let’s just ignore the Lake America idea, shall we?
I’m more upset about the whole Kennedy Center debacle. There’s a real possibility that we are going to lose an American arts institution simply because an ego demands that the Trump name appear on the building somewhere.
I profess to be a writer, and words are important to writers. A rose by any other name might smell as sweet, but calling it a milkweed would cause confusion, right?
I do understand the desire, and sometimes the need, for name changes, though. I’ve had some personal experience.
For example, a quarter century ago or so, I was on the board for a nonprofit called the Public Corporation for the Arts. The name was the result of its formation as a quasi-public agency, with the city of Long Beach as the only corporate member.
While I was chair of the PCA board, there was a push to change the organization’s name. Board members believed that the Corporation thing confused people. Other cities had Arts Councils, so why couldn’t we just call ourselves that?
It turns out that there were lots of legal reasons – contracts signed, city connections, etc. We decided then that there were more important things to worry about.
We were wrong. Kudos to the later boards who did the work and made the Arts Council for Long Beach a household (at least in some households) name. It describes what they do, and that’s what a name is for, right?
Then there’s my own name.
Legally, I am Harry Mack Saltzgaver IV. My dad was III, and my grandfather was Jr. When the three of us were all around, my grandfather was called Harry and my dad was called Mack.
So there was a debate about what to call me. I don’t know what the origin was, but I came to be known as Butch.
Remember that this was the 1950s, and the only stereotype for Butch was a rough and tumble sort of guy with a Butch haircut. I had the haircut, but not much else.
I carried that moniker through high school and college. I still have a press clipping or two about Butch Saltzgaver’s baseball exploits.
But by the late 1970s, I was an “adult” and had started writing for a newspaper. Butch just didn’t sound right for a byline – not enough gravitas, if you know what I mean. So I defaulted to Harry (grandpa had passed by then), and Butch faded into the mists of time.
Did I change my name to alter my reality? Maybe a little. But at least I had an honest claim to Harry.
As is almost always true, the real issue is the motive behind making a change. An Arts Council needed to get rid of the business tone of being a Public Corporation. A high school athlete was happy to be called Butch – a journalist preferred the more serious Harry.
What’s the motive behind “The Donald J. Trump and the John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts” beyond stroking an already admittedly large ego? Is there a reason to tell people to call the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of America beyond spite?
Let’s give Professor Dumbledore the last word. “Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.”