Choosing words carefully

The words we choose say as much about us as they do about the objects they describe. Think William F. Buckley, think the character "Teach" from Mamet's "American Buffalo," or think of any tortured business presentation where losses are presented as opportunities.

We don't seem to react with outrage at the routine mishandling of words or deliberate misdirection that has undermined their value. Instead, we seek meaning elsewhere. And, uneasy about the virtue of what we see and hear around us, that search is increasingly internal.

What we think and what we think we know become the measuring stick for what we think is true. In this way, when we hear a lie or its cousin, the transparent euphemism, so long as it aligns with what we think we know to be true, it must be true.

This can have terrible repercussions; in our personal lives (check the divorce rate), in our professional lives (consider the value of post-acqusition write-downs) and our civic lives (count the votes that send incumbents back to legislative bodies filled with thieves). Worse, the more we reinforce what we think we know, the less likely we are to see or want a way out.

Unchecked, we arrive at paralysis. It is evident in Washington, D.C. where there is little discussion of constituent need and less of legislation, it is evident in corporate board rooms where costs dominate innovation, it is evident in labor halls where the past is lionized with the future up for grabs, it is evident on campus where ideas conform or go uninvited and it is evident at the gas station where the cost of a fill-up may cause a change in grade but not in behavior.

A way out, a way to reframe reality to reflect, well, reality could begin by comparing differences. I mean, if Speaker of the House, Dennis Hastert compared himself to Senate Minority Leader, Harry Reid -- not on a single point, but across the board -- he (and Harry) might find out they have too much in common to be so far apart. In the same way, if General Motors CEO Rick Wagoner compared himself to Ron Gettelfinger, president of the United Auto Workers, Flint might regain its dignity.

And if each of us were willing to hear, learn and know more about people not exactly like us, we might create real opportunity. Ultimately, we need to work hard to complement human nature with a focus on the nature of things. Until we are able to look at the world around us rather than just the one inside us, words will not be enough.