Recent legislation in the UK has seen another blow to the tobacco industry, with retailers no longer allowed to display tobacco and tobacco products on their shelves. Instead, these products must be kept in shuttered cabinets, with the shutters only opened at the precise moments of need. This is a further attempt to discourage youngsters from viewing the purchase of tobacco as a 'normal' activity, and further legislation might well get passed which enforces the sale of these products in plain, non-brand-designed packaging, to increasingly de-glamorise the industry. This move is already being implemented in Australia from December this year.
Clearly we are heading towards the point where sales of tobacco are eventually eliminated entirely. Certainly the current direction of policy is to marginalise the practise of smoking as much as possible - it is becoming harder to buy cigarettes, and the ban on public smoking sends addicts (an inflammatory term I very deliberately use) out into the freezing rain to get their fix. It would seem, then, that we are moving toward a society where smoking is banned outright.
Let me go on the record now to say that I agree with this outcome. Smoking should be banned, because it is an addictive, harmful activity with no benefit other than to satisfy a craving which only exists due to smoking in the first place. It costs the NHS something like £5bn per year, as well as having a knock-on effect onthe family and friends of smokers, not least through second-hand smoke inhalation.
Pro-smoking lobbying groups (often sponsored by, if not officially part of tobacco companies themselves) will argue that to smoke is the right of the individual, and that it should be a personal choice. To some extent it should be considered thus - after all, who are we to prevent others from making their own choices in these matters? On the other hand, though, imagine if tobacco was introduced to the world for the first time in 2012 - it would instantly be legislated against as a harmful drug, probably in Class C of the UK system, much like cannabis. It is only our history of using this drug, coupled to a perceived lack of impact on personality (unlike, for example, heroin use), which prevents it being considered quite as harmful as perhaps it should be.
Of course, a total ban is probably an impossible dream. Tobacco companies know they can't win the war, but they're fighting all the way. They support both the Conservatives and Labour in the UK, and as such can guide policy towards measures which, while they appear to be aimed at curbing the uptake of tobacco, will have very little effect on existing users - if you need your fix, you'll get it. We must also consider the revenue from tobacco sales, which is predicted to be £12.1bn for the 2011-2012 UK tax year, a not inconsiderable sum. Pro-smoking groups would argue that losing this revenue would dramatically harm the UK economy, and to a point they have a decent argument - the revenue certainly outweighs the quoted cost to the NHS, though in my sums I'm ignoring costs to the economy due to time off for smoking-related illnesses.
I don't know the answer, but I suspect it lies in the re-invention of the tobacconist, a shop type which has morphed into what we would now call a newsagent. Further marginalisation of the sales process is probably the only feasible means by which we will continue to decrease the demand for tobacco and tobacco products. Eventually there will come a time when the revenue from smoking begins to fall (according to the figures quoted in the link above, they have steadily climbed since 1990, and probably before that), and we will see a decline in the power of the pro-smoking lobbyists. Only at that point will a complete ban be on the cards.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Very Cross Words
In an attempt to rebuild my ailing internal thesaurus (which was, at one time, not entirely useless), I've been spending a fair amount of time recently doing crosswords. The simple kind, you understand, but it's those simple ones which help flex the imaginary brain muscles upon the strength of which ones synonym-system operates.
Mostly, I am able to complete these with ease, with the exception that on each an every crossword there is at least one clue which utterly confounds me, and it is typically related to some obscure matter of what, for want of a more accurate (or even slightly accurate) term, I shall call general knowledge.
It goes something like this:
"Three across, 'finger', five letters, ends in 'T'. Hmmm, well, that must be 'digit'.
"Nine down, 'thing for remembering', six letters, blank-blank-emm-blank-arr-blank. Easy: 'memory'.
"Right, nineteen across, five letters, '17th century Taoist monk'.... what the f***?"
In case you're wondering, it would be Zhang, as in Zhang San Feng, the inventor of Tai Chi...
That's not even the most awkward of them. My current favourite clue, still unsolved, is 'Common febrifuge'. I don't even know what a febrifuge is! Well, I do now I've Google'd it; but before that? No chance. I'll bet none of you do either, without looking it up. In case you can't be bothered, it's a fever-reducing herb. When was this crossword set, the 14th century?
There really isn't a point to this, other than to rant about the deliberate efforts of Telegraph Quick Crossword setters to catch us all out. You have been warned.
Mostly, I am able to complete these with ease, with the exception that on each an every crossword there is at least one clue which utterly confounds me, and it is typically related to some obscure matter of what, for want of a more accurate (or even slightly accurate) term, I shall call general knowledge.
It goes something like this:
"Three across, 'finger', five letters, ends in 'T'. Hmmm, well, that must be 'digit'.
"Nine down, 'thing for remembering', six letters, blank-blank-emm-blank-arr-blank. Easy: 'memory'.
"Right, nineteen across, five letters, '17th century Taoist monk'.... what the f***?"
In case you're wondering, it would be Zhang, as in Zhang San Feng, the inventor of Tai Chi...
That's not even the most awkward of them. My current favourite clue, still unsolved, is 'Common febrifuge'. I don't even know what a febrifuge is! Well, I do now I've Google'd it; but before that? No chance. I'll bet none of you do either, without looking it up. In case you can't be bothered, it's a fever-reducing herb. When was this crossword set, the 14th century?
There really isn't a point to this, other than to rant about the deliberate efforts of Telegraph Quick Crossword setters to catch us all out. You have been warned.
Friday, November 25, 2011
When debating goes south
Before I begin to get into things, let me just go on record to state that this article has nothing to do with any opinions I might or might not have regarding the role of religion in the world. This article is nothing to do with that, it's all about how some people who should know better allow themselves to fall into a mode of argument which weakens the foundations of their arguments. Anyway, on with the rant...
There's very much been a recent trend towards a cheap, unintelligent approach to the debate over the relevance (or lack thereof) of religion in the modern world. I'm not intending to debate the rights and wrongs of religion, but rather to discuss a prevalent habit for lazy argument which makes its proponents look rather absurd.
Leading the way in this field is the humanist Richard Dawkins; you may have come across his work. He is according to all available accounts a fairly intelligent man, but he does have at least one serious failing - his inability to discuss his anti-religious feelings without highlighting them as exactly that: feelings. Dawkins approaches his arguments with a zeal which, were it not painfully ironic to do so, we would happily liken to a religious fervour.
That he is enthusiastic about his subject is not in itself reprehensible - quite the opposite in fact - but when he claims to represent the cold, hard face of reason, he cannot afford to allow his feelings to interfere. He must be the Jedi, the Vulcan, the dispassionate warrior of logic and reason. By not being so, he cripples his own argument.
And there is another angle to the modern anti-religious argument which is self-corrosive: the "sneering" attitude, which aims to suggest that the owner of the attitude isn't even willing to get into a debate about religion, because it's somehow beneath them, or the argument is pointless because it's already been won.
I'm a huge fan of Stephen Fry, a witty, urbane, intelligent man with a sense of humour which can dissolve me into fits of laughter. But he is prone to a rather sneering attitude to the issue of religion, an attitude which can be summed up as "oh, I'm sure it's a lovely thing for some people, but come now, it's not really something serious, is it? Haha".
I'm not interested in having a discussion about whether his views are right or wrong, but his approach to the argument, which simply put assumes that it is impossible for an intelligent person to examine religion and subsequently wish to join in, is rather crass and unworthy of the man. I'm convinced there are a number of really rather intelligent people involved in religion all over the world, and to assume that their faith comes as a result of some sort of failure of reason really does insult that intelligence.
I suppose my angle here is that I dislike sloppy argument with weak foundations. The same accusations could, I have no doubt, be levelled at the religious communities of the world, but, and here's the fundamental difference, religions never claimed to be based on cold, hard logic. Opposing views often do claim to be logical, and therefore arguments submitted by the anti-religion lobby need to transcend any possible emotional colouring, or the laziness of the condescending "come, now". Without being beyond reproach, these arguments begin to look a little childish, and therefore lacking in fundamental validity.
There's very much been a recent trend towards a cheap, unintelligent approach to the debate over the relevance (or lack thereof) of religion in the modern world. I'm not intending to debate the rights and wrongs of religion, but rather to discuss a prevalent habit for lazy argument which makes its proponents look rather absurd.
Leading the way in this field is the humanist Richard Dawkins; you may have come across his work. He is according to all available accounts a fairly intelligent man, but he does have at least one serious failing - his inability to discuss his anti-religious feelings without highlighting them as exactly that: feelings. Dawkins approaches his arguments with a zeal which, were it not painfully ironic to do so, we would happily liken to a religious fervour.
That he is enthusiastic about his subject is not in itself reprehensible - quite the opposite in fact - but when he claims to represent the cold, hard face of reason, he cannot afford to allow his feelings to interfere. He must be the Jedi, the Vulcan, the dispassionate warrior of logic and reason. By not being so, he cripples his own argument.
And there is another angle to the modern anti-religious argument which is self-corrosive: the "sneering" attitude, which aims to suggest that the owner of the attitude isn't even willing to get into a debate about religion, because it's somehow beneath them, or the argument is pointless because it's already been won.
I'm a huge fan of Stephen Fry, a witty, urbane, intelligent man with a sense of humour which can dissolve me into fits of laughter. But he is prone to a rather sneering attitude to the issue of religion, an attitude which can be summed up as "oh, I'm sure it's a lovely thing for some people, but come now, it's not really something serious, is it? Haha".
I'm not interested in having a discussion about whether his views are right or wrong, but his approach to the argument, which simply put assumes that it is impossible for an intelligent person to examine religion and subsequently wish to join in, is rather crass and unworthy of the man. I'm convinced there are a number of really rather intelligent people involved in religion all over the world, and to assume that their faith comes as a result of some sort of failure of reason really does insult that intelligence.
I suppose my angle here is that I dislike sloppy argument with weak foundations. The same accusations could, I have no doubt, be levelled at the religious communities of the world, but, and here's the fundamental difference, religions never claimed to be based on cold, hard logic. Opposing views often do claim to be logical, and therefore arguments submitted by the anti-religion lobby need to transcend any possible emotional colouring, or the laziness of the condescending "come, now". Without being beyond reproach, these arguments begin to look a little childish, and therefore lacking in fundamental validity.
Friday, October 21, 2011
The Vitriol of the Left-handed Man
The world has, in the past, been a bad place for left-handed people. There are endless accounts of lefties being associated with evil of every kind, and left-handed people have been mistrusted and treated like social lepers in the past. Some of the anecdotes are quite personal to me, too: my own grandmother had her left hand tied behind her back in an effort to make her write with her right. It didn't work, and eventually the bastards relented.
At this point I should mention that I, too, am left-handed. I've never been adversely affected by 'leftism'. I don't have difficulty with daily tasks, and a lot of things I do in the way a right-handed person would, simply because it's easier that way. I'm lucky in a way, because although I have difficulty writing with my right hand, most other tasks are possible, or even preferable. I'm a pretty good pool player left handed, but not far behind right handed, so in some ways I even have an advantage. I play football, hockey and tennis in a right-handed manner, and operate my computer with the mouse to my right.
None of these things bother me particularly, and I'm not about to get up in arms about discrimination or anything. But being a father has highlighted one of the areas in which leftism has a personal impact - the area of language.
Regular readers might have an appreciation of the fact that, to me, language is a rather important thing. I really rather enjoy writing, and get a great deal of pleasure from exploring the origins of language, of understanding why a particular word or phrase has come to have a certain meaning.
At the moment, we are trying - in a small, irregular and rather messy way - to teach our two-year-old daughter the difference between right and left, principally to ensure that the right shoe goes on the right foot. And there is the problem. The 'right' shoe on the 'right' foot. What we mean, of course, is the correct shoe on the correct foot, unless of course we really are talking about the right-hand shoe on the right-hand foot.
Do you know why the word 'right' has become synonymous with 'correct'? It's because its opposite, 'left', was considered 'incorrect'. The right side was the correct side, and so the word 'right' replaced the word 'correct' in most of the places it is used in our language. Probably because it has half the syllables.
This use of 'right' even extended to the naming of animals - the Southern Right Whale is so named because it was considered the 'right' whale to catch - good blubber or something, I presume. It should be called the Southern Correct Whale, though with my environmentalist hat on I should point out that there is no such thing as correctness in whale hunting, except for by those who rely on it for food (Inuit peoples often do).
I'm not after a revolution here, but sometimes I'd like people to think about the origins of the words they use. Trying to teach a two-year-old that there are two senses for a word is a complex business, especially when it's one of the more fundamental concepts they will have to grasp. And in case you're wondering, there's no sign yet of handedness in her.
At this point I should mention that I, too, am left-handed. I've never been adversely affected by 'leftism'. I don't have difficulty with daily tasks, and a lot of things I do in the way a right-handed person would, simply because it's easier that way. I'm lucky in a way, because although I have difficulty writing with my right hand, most other tasks are possible, or even preferable. I'm a pretty good pool player left handed, but not far behind right handed, so in some ways I even have an advantage. I play football, hockey and tennis in a right-handed manner, and operate my computer with the mouse to my right.
None of these things bother me particularly, and I'm not about to get up in arms about discrimination or anything. But being a father has highlighted one of the areas in which leftism has a personal impact - the area of language.
Regular readers might have an appreciation of the fact that, to me, language is a rather important thing. I really rather enjoy writing, and get a great deal of pleasure from exploring the origins of language, of understanding why a particular word or phrase has come to have a certain meaning.
At the moment, we are trying - in a small, irregular and rather messy way - to teach our two-year-old daughter the difference between right and left, principally to ensure that the right shoe goes on the right foot. And there is the problem. The 'right' shoe on the 'right' foot. What we mean, of course, is the correct shoe on the correct foot, unless of course we really are talking about the right-hand shoe on the right-hand foot.
Do you know why the word 'right' has become synonymous with 'correct'? It's because its opposite, 'left', was considered 'incorrect'. The right side was the correct side, and so the word 'right' replaced the word 'correct' in most of the places it is used in our language. Probably because it has half the syllables.
This use of 'right' even extended to the naming of animals - the Southern Right Whale is so named because it was considered the 'right' whale to catch - good blubber or something, I presume. It should be called the Southern Correct Whale, though with my environmentalist hat on I should point out that there is no such thing as correctness in whale hunting, except for by those who rely on it for food (Inuit peoples often do).
I'm not after a revolution here, but sometimes I'd like people to think about the origins of the words they use. Trying to teach a two-year-old that there are two senses for a word is a complex business, especially when it's one of the more fundamental concepts they will have to grasp. And in case you're wondering, there's no sign yet of handedness in her.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
A Little Thing about Punctuation
I'm not a "grammar Nazi" (horrible term), but I do strongly believe in the importance of proper punctuation in written communication*.
Punctuation exists for one reason, and one reason alone: so that the readers of a document are able to determine how its author would like them to read it. It sets the rules for how a sentence should be construed. As such, there really aren't any rules about how punctuation should be applied. People will tell you there are, but there aren't. Take, for example, the work of Agatha Christie - she abuses hyphens like they've done her some personal injury, but you get her point.
The only rules lie around the common interpretation of the symbols we use. For instance, we all know that a full stop (or 'period'. Ew...) signifies in our minds that we should pause and take a mental breath. Or a physical one, if reading out loud. Similarly, a comma indicates a lesser pause, and a semicolon somewhere in between; though we should only use the semi when we're going to continue along the same lines with the second half of the sentence (or when separating items in a list which follows a colon).
As long as there's agreement and understanding on what these little dots and squiggles mean, you really should use punctuation how you see fit. And word order? Well, that matters hardly at all; hardly matters at all, in fact.
But God help you if you can't tell the difference between there, their and they're. That's just stupid.
*There's a subtle difference between grammar and punctuation, but that's not really the point here.
Punctuation exists for one reason, and one reason alone: so that the readers of a document are able to determine how its author would like them to read it. It sets the rules for how a sentence should be construed. As such, there really aren't any rules about how punctuation should be applied. People will tell you there are, but there aren't. Take, for example, the work of Agatha Christie - she abuses hyphens like they've done her some personal injury, but you get her point.
The only rules lie around the common interpretation of the symbols we use. For instance, we all know that a full stop (or 'period'. Ew...) signifies in our minds that we should pause and take a mental breath. Or a physical one, if reading out loud. Similarly, a comma indicates a lesser pause, and a semicolon somewhere in between; though we should only use the semi when we're going to continue along the same lines with the second half of the sentence (or when separating items in a list which follows a colon).
As long as there's agreement and understanding on what these little dots and squiggles mean, you really should use punctuation how you see fit. And word order? Well, that matters hardly at all; hardly matters at all, in fact.
But God help you if you can't tell the difference between there, their and they're. That's just stupid.
*There's a subtle difference between grammar and punctuation, but that's not really the point here.
Wednesday, September 07, 2011
Thursday, July 07, 2011
Film Piracy - gaarrgghhh!
And no, I'm not talking about Captain Jack Sparrow... or, for the record, piracy of television programmes.
I'm bored, bored of the same old arguments surrounding online piracy. Apparently, a study has just concluded that online piracy of films has risen by 29% over the past five years. This, my friends, is hardly headline news - the availability of high speed internet has increased rapidly in that period, removing the last serious barrier to the downloading of massive content, so what did they expect? The example set by music pirates was bound to be followed.
On the one hand, I disagree wholeheartedly with pirating. As an aspiring author, copyright is important to me, and I don't like to see an artist's income damaged by the activity of a group of people whose only defence is that it's too expensive to actually buy music or film. That's a little like trying to defend stealing a television from Dixons on the basis that you can't afford to buy it. It's ridiculous, and you'd never get away with it in real, physical terms, so why do you think it's OK to do it online?
On the other hand, the film industry kind of had it coming, and I have little sympathy. For years they have charged ridiculous prices to watch films in the cinema, and then they're upset that people are trying to find a way around having to take out a mortgage just to see the latest in a long line of rather average films. Seriously, guys? Come on. Cinema is, quite simply, fantastically overpriced. You can't even blame the cinemas themselves, as it's well known that the only way they make a profit is through food and drink sales. It's the distributors who set the prices in reality.
And it's not as though the production companies and the stars of these films are underpaid so that the distributors make a profit. Quite the opposite, in fact. Last year alone (2010), the top three earners in Hollywood (James Cameron, Johnny Depp and Steven Spielberg) earned a total of $437,000,000. That's a ludicrous sum.
Before you spit out your coffee, I'm well aware that most actors and producers/directors earn nowhere near those sums. In fact that disparity simply adds another string to the bow of my argument that Hollywood has nothing to complain about - only in a den of such thorough corruption could some individuals be paid so well and yet others practically starve.
Hollywood, it would seem, is beginning to reap what it has sown. For too long the industry has lived in a bubble, believing itself to be far more valuable and important than it really is. Will the world cry if the film industry collapses? Probably not. I certainly won't.
I'm bored, bored of the same old arguments surrounding online piracy. Apparently, a study has just concluded that online piracy of films has risen by 29% over the past five years. This, my friends, is hardly headline news - the availability of high speed internet has increased rapidly in that period, removing the last serious barrier to the downloading of massive content, so what did they expect? The example set by music pirates was bound to be followed.
On the one hand, I disagree wholeheartedly with pirating. As an aspiring author, copyright is important to me, and I don't like to see an artist's income damaged by the activity of a group of people whose only defence is that it's too expensive to actually buy music or film. That's a little like trying to defend stealing a television from Dixons on the basis that you can't afford to buy it. It's ridiculous, and you'd never get away with it in real, physical terms, so why do you think it's OK to do it online?
On the other hand, the film industry kind of had it coming, and I have little sympathy. For years they have charged ridiculous prices to watch films in the cinema, and then they're upset that people are trying to find a way around having to take out a mortgage just to see the latest in a long line of rather average films. Seriously, guys? Come on. Cinema is, quite simply, fantastically overpriced. You can't even blame the cinemas themselves, as it's well known that the only way they make a profit is through food and drink sales. It's the distributors who set the prices in reality.
And it's not as though the production companies and the stars of these films are underpaid so that the distributors make a profit. Quite the opposite, in fact. Last year alone (2010), the top three earners in Hollywood (James Cameron, Johnny Depp and Steven Spielberg) earned a total of $437,000,000. That's a ludicrous sum.
Before you spit out your coffee, I'm well aware that most actors and producers/directors earn nowhere near those sums. In fact that disparity simply adds another string to the bow of my argument that Hollywood has nothing to complain about - only in a den of such thorough corruption could some individuals be paid so well and yet others practically starve.
Hollywood, it would seem, is beginning to reap what it has sown. For too long the industry has lived in a bubble, believing itself to be far more valuable and important than it really is. Will the world cry if the film industry collapses? Probably not. I certainly won't.
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Car Park Bingo: Summer Special
Not sure why this is summery, but the sun was shining and it's July, so there.
Porsche Panamera Turbo S
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
Two recent photographs
Alnwick Castle
Lucky poppy - nearly weeded it out the day before it flowered. Thought it was another yellow one...
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Time warp
Samurai-san looks a bit surprised to be coming up against a Styracosaur. For the record, Baseball Bob was quite happy.
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