The names we give animals and plants are rooted in history and culture, so it’s hardly surprising that when ornithologists compiled 10,709 Swedish names for birds, they found 10 racist species. The Swedes called a dabbling duck the hottentott teal, derived from the derogatory name for the Khoikhoi people; the white-rumped swift was kafferseglaren –“kaffir-sailor”, from the racist South African term; the zigenarfågel translated as “Gypsy bird”; and four bird names included the Swedish word neger (“negro”).
With good sense and minimal fuss, Swedish birders have updated these names: neger birds are now svart (“black”), Gypsy is gone, and the racist swift is now the vitgumpseglare (“white-rumped sailor”).
What is surprising is that the rich list of English common names for birds appears virtually unblemished by racism. When the wildlife blogger Mark Avery asked for examples of offensive names, his readers could only supply those that make schoolboys snigger – boobies, great tits, shags – and a few unfortunate scientific names such as the northern gannet’s Morus bassanus – Moron of the Bass Rock. (This moron is thriving on said rock.)
We may have cleaned up natural names, but offensive relics must still lurk out there. Robert Macfarlane’s new book, Landmarks, is an attempt to reclaim lost and dialect landscape words. I wonder how many racist words he has discovered and quietly not added to his word-hoard?
The measure of success
If we look back on the past year, how do we see our personal lives? Bereavements, redundancy or other catastrophes may loom large, but if we’re not grieving or on the breadline, we may reflect on good times with family and friends, decent health, achievements at work or interesting travel. A sense of personal growth isn’t usually based on, say, a 2.6% uplift in our income.
So why do we continue to measure Britain’s progress in terms of economic growth? This limited concept remains the prime goal of government, and it fails us miserably. Increases in GDP do not cause wellbeing to soar. We know that indefinite economic growth is unlikely in a finite world. Now a new study by Essex University and other health researchers calculates that materialistic lifestyles are costing the UK economy £180bn each year – far more than our annual spend on the NHS.
These findings are deeply ironic too: we are so stuck in a monetary mindset that we even measure the downside of economic growth in cash. We urgently need a non-monetary, non-waffly benchmark for social progress, perhaps a sack of social goods such as the “shopping baskets” used to calculate inflation. This would include jobs, wages and relative inequality of course, but also successful operations, sustainable energy generated, volunteering hours, access to lifelong learning and green spaces, and other measures of thriving communities.
The Westminster bubble is woeful at critically examining the dogma of economic growth, but perhaps when growth is routinely absent, politicians will be compelled to seek other measures of “success”. At this point we must be ready with a meaningful alternative.
Hoist by my own lanyard
They were once deployed by French military to connect sword to uniform, but these days lanyards tend to chain a person to a corporate identity. So when Guardian employees were issued with lanyards and security-pass holders at our new HQ six years ago, I heroically became a lanyard refusenik. Last week, after losing my eighth pass, our towering security guard gave me the sort of glance I bestow on my toddler for throwing my phone on the floor. (My work mobile phone record is similarly abysmal.)
So now I am lanyarded up, a contrite corporate monkey, humbly appreciative of my good fortune to have a job and an employer so tolerant of my failings.
@patrick_barkham
