Make no mistake, words are ammo.

In every cell of every living organism on the Earth, there’s DNA, which if you want to get technical stands for Deoxyribonucleic Acid. It’s a long double strand helix structure built using sequences of just four nucleotides; guanine, adenine, thymine, and cytosine, which are usually represented by their capital letters in genetics. G, A, T and C.

We’ve settled on a number system which uses the ten digits, zero to nine, and using those basic building blocks in an agreed positional way, we can represent an infinity of different numbers. In an analogous fashion, different sequences made up of multiple occurrences of those four nucleotides can be used to describe an infinite number of biological configurations, from things a lot smaller than an ant right up to ones larger than an elephant.

What it comes down to, is that in every cell of your body, there’s a detailed plan of how to build an exact physical duplicate of you. Yeah, I know, one of you was frightening enough, God forbid an army of clones of you could be created. It’d probably be enough to get your friends screaming and running towards the horizon. It would mine.

The point is that while the clone would be an exact physical duplicate of you, it could never be you. It’s exact and very precise data about you but it’s just data, not information. It doesn’t carry your memories, your experiences, your first infant memories of events, watching those fireworks explode that night, the conversations you’ve had, the smell of your lover’s hair, the taste of that wonderful glass of wine, how you felt in the face of those occasional setbacks and your greatest triumphs. That fist involuntarily pumping the air when you’ve succeeded at something that was far from sure.

There’s a million things like that which DNA knows nothing at all about and never can. It knows nothing of the occasional sadness and yet the sometime joy of being a human being.

Consider that 3.1415 is just a sequence of digits, data, but knowing it’s the ratio of a circle’s diameter to its circumference, it becomes information which allows you to start measuring your world. In that same narrow sense, DNA is data but it’s not information.

You see, what’s really important about you are the ideas in your head. You’ve experienced various things as you’ve gone through life, and they are locked away in your memory, but it’s what you’ve come to think they all meant which has come to define who you are, your attitude to the present and therefore your attitude to the future.

Language is the transmission medium of thought and for most of human history, when people died, their ideas perished with them. It was like turning off a computer, which could never be turned back on and losing all the data on the hard drive. All that survived was what few ideas they’d passed on orally, usually to their children and we all know how well children listen.

You can carry information in your head about how to make and use a bow and arrow and impart it to someone else, who can then make one for themselves, but forget about anything to do with the square of the hypotenuse though.

The problem with oral transmission of data is that as it passes from person to person down the generations, it inevitably loses fidelity. It’s like a photocopy of a photocopy of a photocopy which gradually loses definition until the final recipient of it dismisses it as nonsense. It’s exactly the same as that wry but very true joke that originated in the trenches of WWI France. A message passed by word of mouth from the front back to headquarters – “send reinforcements, we’re going to advance” – had turned into “send three and four pence, we’re going to a dance” by the time it arrived there.

For most of our history we used things like storytelling, rhyming poetry and songs not only as entertainment for the ordinary person but also I think in an attempt to preserve and transmit experiences and folk wisdom across generations. So often, there’s a kernel of information at the heart of them.

Inventive creatures that we are, we got around the problem in the end by developing written representations of spoken language. The letters of an alphabet are just that, letters. Put them in consensually agreed combinations, and you get representations of spoken words. Put those words into the particular structured sequences of your native language, and you get written language, and when you do that, data has yet again been turned into information. A person’s thoughts, feelings and ideas no longer had to die with them and could be accurately conveyed not only to their contemporaries but to following generations.

That invention of written language occurred several times in nearly all locations around the world where a stable agriculture-based civilisation arose. When that local civilisation went under, so did any understanding of what their writings meant. The information captured on various media became nothing more than enigmatic squiggles whose meaning had been lost forever. The reason for that recurring phenomenon was that the only people who ever understood the symbols were a scribe caste whose specialist skill was of no practical use in the new brutal world of a civilisation spiralling down into its own version of the dark ages. When people are fighting for their survival, there’s simply no time to invest in learning a skill that doesn’t help them keep alive.

What broke that cycle was the commercial exploitation of a new technology; the printing press. A barely literate peasant in Gothenburg could print one thousand pages of a book in a day, albeit the same page but he could do the same for the next page tomorrow. Compared to the average of three years it took to hand write a bible, Fritz was always going to put the scribes out of business. Like all new mass production applied to an old problem, it caused a plunge in the price of the commodity, which led to its own problem.

It’s great being able to produce goods cheaply but you still need a market to sell it into. As fortune would have it, or perhaps it was driven by it, the availability of cheap books coincided with the emergence of a new social caste; the forebears of the middle class, who could not only afford the product but could also afford the time required to invest in learning to read and write. What they could do, they wanted their children to be able to as well. It was the nascent seed of teaching literacy to everyone. I’ve not seen any studies tracking this growth of literacy in the general population against the cheap availability of books, but I suspect there’s a strong lagging correlation.

Products of technology spread and flourish because people find them useful and books were no exception to that basic imperative or they wouldn’t have survived. You could find out from them why your crop was failing or how to grow a bumper one. They taught you how to make things you needed or how to do things better. Above all, what books did was give useful ideas legs.

For the first time, a person’s ideas or thoughts could be captured with perfect fidelity and in a compact affordable physical form that a person could transport not only beyond their physical locale but down the years as well. Unlike statues, monuments, great buildings, impressive wealth – they could travel. You no longer had to trudge across the desert to the shattered visage in the sand, to learn of the existence and vanity of Ozymandias.

Books were the delivery system and ideas were the payload, enabling the exchange of knowledge across the whole world. They and their offspring of journals, newspapers, magazines and every other piece of printed material, when combined with the growth of widespread literacy, are I believe the explanation for the unprecedented technological explosion of the last few hundred years and the resultant increase in the standard of living.

The application of the adjective unprecedented to that geometric expansion in progress really doesn’t do it justice. My grandmother was a young woman when she read of the Wright brother’s flight. She lived to watch with wonderment and delight a human being walk on the moon. At no time in human history have we seen change at that pace and it’s going to accelerate, so hold onto your hat Dorothy, because Kansas is already a distant memory.

The book, dearly though I love it, is going to die because we are now in the foothills of the next evolution in the delivery system of ideas; the internet. I won’t mourn too deeply because I know that particular death is just a transmigration of the encoding of ideas. It’ll take all the beautiful books into it though perhaps not their distinctive papery smell. It’s the message that matters not the medium, as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be. In newspeak, it’s all about content, what value the ordinary person places on what it means to them.

Those interesting, delightful, dancing ideas are just bouncing into human consciousness through a cybernetic equivalent of the old-fashioned local village square where people met and talked, except that square is populated by people from around the globe. You no longer need a physical book or to be physically there and what’s more, you can talk back to it. Anyone, anywhere around the world, can raise a topic of conversation and anyone, anywhere around the world, can join that conversation and add their voice to it.

A patriot, on being told he’d been sentenced to be executed for rebellion, said that when they could put an idea up against a wall and shoot it, they’d have beaten him. Since he’d already been gravely wounded, he was tied him to a chair before a firing squad and shot anyway. The reverberations of his words from beyond the grave and perhaps the grace with which he met his death, came back to haunt his enemies within a few short years, resulting in their rout. Once an idea is out into the world, it acquires a life of its own.

It lives or dies, dependant on nothing more than people adopting it on its own merits. You can kill a man, you can kill a race, a civilisation, a nation even but if their ideas had merit, they’ve escaped into the wild of the mind and are now well beyond your control. That genie is out of the bottle and you’ll never get it back in.

That’s why words are so powerful and in a believe against all the odds sort of way, that’s the penny candle of hope I lit some years ago when I became a blogger.


Related articles by Pointman:

They’re just words.

Words, ideas, primary sources, history and a bit thrown in about writers.

About writing.

Click for a list of other articles.

10 Responses to “Make no mistake, words are ammo.”
  1. Blackswan says:


    When it comes to ‘food for thought’, once again you’re a generous host who provides a smorgasbord for your guests. While you’re undoubtedly right about the printing press making education possible for all, we only know what we do of earlier human history because of the papyrus scrolls, parchments, clay or wax tablets and hieroglyphics etched into stone.

    We have to wonder what future historians in two or three millennia will make of our current life and times when our records are stored digitally and it’s highly unlikely the means for accessing the data will exist. Also, very few people write personal letters these days – all is in email. Official records are so dull and dreary and rarely tell the truth; it was the private correspondence of years past that put the flesh on historical bones and told us of an individual’s hopes and dreams, relationships and family life.

    If E-books become the norm in the future while paper volumes go the way of the dinosaurs, what great literature might be lost to future generations who can no longer access this current primitive digital technology?

    We’ve seen a few penny candles snuffed out in the winds of change in recent years; the Pointman’s Place is more like a lighthouse on a rocky headland.


  2. Sorry, your value for pi is not correct. You need 3.14159 or 3.146 or 3.142 but most people just use 3.14.

    Doh! Fixed thank you. P.


  3. Keitho says:

    I have often wondered about the history of Africa. All of sub Saharan history is written and recorded by others primarily because , along with the wheel, written language was not present when the explorers and colonisers arrived. I have not seen this discussed much anywhere but it must have been a huge drawback for the indigenous populations. It does seem that without the ability to accurately store and transmit information to great distances and to others outside of the range of ones voice then any form of societal advance is all but impossible.

    Even in our own cultures the history that is presented to us is one that is translated through a particular prism suited to those who present it. Fortunately there is sufficient written documentation that anyone with an enquiring mind can set about finding an alternative explanation and testing that against what we know. The one big advantage of books over digital is that books require only the ability to read access them, digital requires layers of technology that depend on providers outside of our own senses.

    As Blackswan says I do hope that the enormous quantities of digital data we are generating and storing are as easily accessible to unadorned humans as books are today.


  4. Petrossa says:

    Once upon a time (not too long ago) i was involved transferring national archive medieval onwards charts of cities to a more lasting medium. Like in forever. Long and hard was debated which final medium to choose. In the end what was chosen was microfilm coupled with an digital database for quick access.

    The reasoning was, that no matter what the future mode of reading data was, for any kind of totally digital information you’d need to keep a reader available that could that particular form of encoding, or every time a new medium came along transfer it to the new one. In view of the rapid developments in datastorage film was chosen.

    Film had/has the highest density of information storage per unit, it could be read with any bright light and a crude lens, it lasts long. Every so often new copies of the master film are made, to keep the original quality.

    The films where stuck on good old punchcards, punched with the accesscode, accescode in a simple database and the job was done.

    By which i mean to say, digital storage is risky for stuff that needs to be stored for the ages.


  5. meltemian says:

    Pointy, your mention of how we are each the sum of our experiences far more than just our DNA put me in mind of this, I read it years ago, can’t remember where, but it sums it up quite nicely:-

    “You hold a block of metal in your hand, and it’s solid – yet within the metal there are molecules or atoms, all moving by laws of their own. Press a block of pure gold against a block of silver. When you separate them they seem unchanged but a good physical chemist will show you that where they have been in contact invisible flecks of gold have wandered across the barrier of structure and buried themselves in the silver, and atoms of silver, somehow, in the structure of the gold.
    I think that when people are pressed close they behave in the same way.
    Part of you enters them and part of them enters you.
    Long after you forget the names and faces they are still a part of you.
    Sometimes it’s frightening to think that every person you have ever hated, feared or run away from is part of you .. but so is every person you have ever learnt from, every friend you ever knew.”


  6. Retired Dave says:

    I thought the value for pi was good enough for government work, as they say!!

    Another good and thought provoking read as usual Pointman.

    As soon as I got to the line about photocopies of photocopies, the thought “going to a dance send three and fourpence” leapt to mind before I reached your mention of it. Must be a man of a certain age thing.

    And strangely I use exactly the same example of the speed of change as you have – my maternal grandmother was born 1889 and died 1983. I have often said to people she saw the first flight and the mooning landings. She was an avid reader, as was my mother and it passed to me and on the my children and grandchildren. So many youngsters today do not read at all.

    Obviously as you say recorded information is changing rapidly and as Blackswan says data may become inaccessible. Maybe technology will eventually be at a point where anything could be recovered, but already some storage media from the 1970’s is hard to access. Organisations with massive and continuing data storage requirements spend much time moving earlier data to later systems and then again to a newer system etc.

    I still love books’ as I guess most on here do, but I am not precious about it and read on my desktop, phone ( I did this article in bed with a cup of tea) and kindle. I was though rather sad when I parted with my set of Britannica last year. I realised that I had not referred to them for more than 8 years and they were taking up a lot of space. I have the cut-down PC version on my desktop. – After many months I sold them (including 20 year and science/technology volumes) in mint condition for £75. Still my wife and I and our children had full value out of them in the 80’s and 90’s. Now someone has the pleasure of owning them.


  7. Retired Dave says:

    I meant to say (age again) that an excellent read which touches on some of the facets of this discussion is the book

    The Rational Optimist by Matt Ridley

    A wonderfully uplifting read. I particularly like his thought of ideas having sex. I heard him speak about a year ago and he talks in the same articulate flowing manner of his books. He was to be heard speaking sense in the House of Deadbeats (sorry Lords) this last week on the subject of climate and energy.


  8. Pointman says:

    I met a traveller from an antique land
    Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
    Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
    Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
    And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
    Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
    Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
    The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
    And on the pedestal these words appear:
    My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
    Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!’
    Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
    Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
    The lone and level sands stretch far away”.


    Liked by 1 person

  9. Reblogged this on gottadobetterthanthis and commented:
    The Pointman’s words are again worth noting. I wholehearted agree with the comments on books. Thanks for the candlelight, Pointman.


Check out what others are saying...
  1. […] This morning I came across a climate change issue blogger I hadn’t read before, Pointman  He made some very interesting observations about the alarmists  v. sceptics exchanges in the […]


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: