Jan

SOS: Save Our Skeuomorphs!

by Joyce McGreevy on January 4, 2021

A smartphone on a sailboat contains a compass app, a skeuomorph that carries a cultural memory of an ancient invention, the nautical compass. (Photo by TheHilaryClark and Pixabay)

What smartphone app resembles a 12th century nautical tool? The answer’s due south!
TheHilaryClark/ Pixabay

Skeuomorphs “Net” Cultural Memory

As we sail into a new decade, a titanic debate continues to rock the boat from port to computer port. On one side, designers who’ve jettisoned skeuomorphs. On the other, those who are still on board with them.

Should skeuomorphs be set adrift? Or treasured because they’re anchored in cultural memory? What are skeuomorphs, anyway?

Someone holds up a digital tablet with a compass app, a skeuomorph that incorporates a cultural memory of an older compass. (Photo by TheHilaryClark and Pixabay)

Some designers dislike skeuomorphs’ ties to the past, as in this digital version
of a nautical compass.
Geralt/ Pixabay

Say, That Looks Familiar

Even if you’ve never heard of them, you know them. In computing, skeuomorphs are digital images that mimic older, physical objects. The nearest examples are probably on your cellphone:

a retro telephone handset (digital phone app)
a postage stamp (email program)
a manual camera with lens and shutter button (photo app)
a cassette tape, as invented in 1963 (audio-record app)
a 1970s style pocket calculator (faster, high-capacity calculator app)

I say “probably” because neoumorphists are working hand over fist to replace such apps.

“Neou-whatzits?” Neoumorphists. This group practices a design style that features minimalistic, one-dimensional flat shapes. Moreover, they prefer either solid colors or no color at all. In short, they create neuomorphs.

The term neuomorph is itself a kind of skeuomorph. It mimics the old word to convey the idea of the new word. Maybe that’s why some practitioners prefer the term “Flat Design.”

A Flat Design compass shows that, unlike skeuomorphs, neoumorphs preserve little cultural memory of the older, physical object. (Photo by Villareallevi)

Flat design took apps in a new direction.
Villarreallevi/ Pixabay

Skewing Away from Skeuomorphs

Why have flat-friendly designers given the heave-ho to skeuomorphs?

For starters, it’s been 35 years since Apple featured skeuomorphs on the first personal computer. Imagine seeing an icon of a floppy disk on the device that made floppies obsolete. So why was it there? Because it made something new look comfortably old and familiar.

Like the cassette tape, floppy disks were physical objects manually inserted into a computer for the purposes of saving information. By contrast, the new computer required no disk. Instead, it showed a picture of one to help you transition into saving info digitally.

At the time, that seemed bold. It was a shot across the bow of cantankerous word processors. (I called mine “Old Ironsides.”)

However, to a young digital native, someone who’d never encountered a physical floppy disk, the digital image became the more real of the two. It evoked, not an object, but only an action: “save.”

Meanwhile, a new wave of designers, considered skeuomorphs clunky, their purpose lost at sea. Skeuomorphs were scraping the bottom of the barrel, they said. And they were not about to pipe down.

Gradually, the skeuomorph trend hit the doldrums. Mainstream designers, certain they’d keel over if they had to develop one more fake trashcan, file folder, or bookcase, began abandoning ship. They changed course, bound for the uncharted waters of start-ups.

By 2012, there was no stemming the tide. To put it pictorially . . .

A speeding jet ski symbolizes how rapidly Flat Design apps, or neuoumorphs, overtook the popularity of skeuomorphs. (Photo by Herbert 2512 and Pixabay)

Flat Design went full steam ahead . . .
Herbert2512/ Pixabay

A man paddling a barrel in the water symbolizes how skeoumorph apps, with their cultural memory-based images of older physical objects, seemed clunky compared to Flat Design apps. (Image by Pxhere)

. . . leaving skeuomorphs in its wake and over a barrel.

Ships Shapes that Pass in the Night?

Skeuomorphs were dead in the water, declared “Flat” fans. Old as the (Silicon Valley) hills. Some even claimed that before the Mac, skeuomorphism could not have existed, since there was no graphical interface.

Now wait just one oh I see moment: While not all skeuomorphs endure, skeuomorphism is no passing fad. It’s freighted with centuries of cultural memory.

Going Old-Skeu

The term skeuomorph was coined in 1889 when a scholar combined two Greek words—skeuos, meaning vessel or tool, and morphê, meaning shape or form. Archaeologists applied the term to ancient artifacts that carried “memories” of even older objects. Classic examples include:

ancient clay pottery from Zaire molded to resemble the straw that was used in earlier, woven containers
ancient Greek stone buildings that preserved the functions of their wooden precursors

In short, skeuomorphs were never just digital. That urge to imitate, to preserve, to artfully smuggle something older into the hull of something newer, has always been with us.

An antique coffeepot features skeuomorphic elements that reflect the cultural memory of woven vessels. (Image by Auckland Museum)

Vintage skeuomorph, this antique coffeepot looks woven and has “tree branch” handles.
Auckland Museum, CC BY 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

Skeuomorphs Are Everywhere

Common household skeuomorphs include:

battery-operated or LED “candles”
window shutters that are purely decorative
shoes with ornamental buckles over functional Velcro fasteners
“wood-grain” laminate flooring

Lighting on a table includes skeoumorphic elements that preserve the cultural memory of older, physical objects, such as LED “candles” and a “wooden” plastic table. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Unlike the wall, the “wooden” table is skeuomorphic. So are most of the “candles.”
© Joyce McGreevy

Skeuomorphism is roadworthy, too. For example, it includes:

Logos of horses on cars—visual reminders of “horsepower,” itself a verbal skeuomorph
The first trains and cars, modeled after horse-drawn carriages
Electric cars with front grilles. That’s utterly skeuomorphic. No internal combustion engine? No need for cooling air-intake!

Skeuomorphs go beyond the visual:

Taste: meatless burgers and tofu turkey
Texture: furniture in one material that imitates another material
Scent: air freshener imitating an “ocean breeze” or “lavender field”

Vintage cars feature skeoumorphic elements that preserve the cultural memory of horse-drawn carriages, such as wood paneled chassis and wheels with spokes. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Cars with wood paneling and wheel spokes are . . .

Wagon wheels exemplify how skeuomorphic design embeds the cultural memory of older objects, such as wheel spokes, into newer objects, such as cars. (Image by British and Pixabay)

. . . skeuomorphic of old-fashioned wooden carriages.
Britlish/ Pixabay

Speaking of Skeuomorphs

There are, I think, echoes of skeuomorphism even in language. It’s in the way we knowingly or unknowingly imitate linguistic elements of the past.

That’s why, for the sake of experiment, I packed this post with vintage nautical terms, stem to stern. Did I go overboard? Aye, to prove a point: As old artifacts are “re-designed” for new users, the updated version retains vestiges of cultural memory. It’s as true of language as it is of technology.

So, even though you’re not an old-timey pirate, sea captain, boatswain, coxswain, rum smuggler, sea-shanty composer, or Viking explorer, every seaworthy idiom I used made sense to you. Like the digital native assigning new meaning to a graphical icon, you simply use it differently than its originators did.

That for me, is also the beauty of a skeuomorph. Be it digital or physical, visual or verbal, by intention or by-the-way, the best kind preserves cultural memory and takes on new meaning.

Don’t get me wrong. Flat Design has a vital role in language, too. If I need an ambulance, I’ll state my home address, not describe its architecture. I’m an idiom lover, not an idiot.

However, rather than choose one design style over another, I’ll navigate the best of each—the abstract and the pictorial, the streamlined and the layered. If neuomorphs make for plain sailing, skeuomorphs net cultural memory. Happily, there’s room onboard for both.

A smartphone screen whimsically depicting a 3-D figure navigating a body of water shows that apps like neoumorphs and skeuomorphs may one day only a cultural memory of old-school design. (Image by PixelLoverK3 and Pixabay)

What’s next in digital design? Wait and sea!
PixelLoverK3/ Pixabay

Did you spot all the nautical terms? Some are less obvious than others! Plumb their watery word depths, here and here.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Joyce McGreevy Comments

Cultural Symbols/Language & Culture

Nov

You Can’t Just Make Up Words—Oh, Really?

by Joyce McGreevy on November 9, 2020

A woman reading the Oxford English Dictionary, a source of implicit language lessons on how to invent a word. (Image by lilbellule789 and PIxabay)

Spoiler alert: This page turner’s ending is all about the . . . zyzzyva!
lilbellule789/ Pixabay l

Language Lesson: How to Invent a Word

It’s become a sitcom trope: One character’s remark prompts another character to retort, “That’s not even a word!” or “You can’t just make up words!”

But according to the most widespread, time-honored language lore, people have been inventing words ever since the guttural grunts of one human first morphed into vocal patterns that made sense to other humans.

Let’s settle this with the world’s shortest language lesson, here.

Oh, I see: Making up words is precisely how language happens. When people invent a word, language grows and goes out into the world, keeping robust pace with ever-changing ideas and events until the time comes to pass the torch to other new language.

A woman binge-watching TV unknowingly embodies a language lesson—how you invent a word is influenced by other inventions, too. (Image by Kali9 and iStock)

As the words turn: The word TV (first known use: 1945) spawned TV dinner (1954),
sitcom (1962), dramedy (1978), channel surf (1988) and binge-watch (2003).
Kali9/ iStock

World of Words

According to Global Language Monitor, English speakers alone generate over 5,000 new words a year. While most “new” words of any era fall out of use—When’s the last time you heard someone say icebox, courting, or dungarees?—about 1,000 new words become so embedded in everyday use that they enter the ultimate word hall of fame—the dictionary.

A dictionary opened to the word dictionary show that people invent a new word or words about language itself. (Image by Pxhere)

Um, has anyone ever used a dictionary to look up the word dictionary?
Pxhere

Between Merriam-Webster and the Oxford English Dictionary, 2020’s newbie words include social-distance, WFH (working from home), deprioritize, all-dressed, and a slew of medical terms. As in, “Now that we social-distance by WFH, we’ve deprioritized business casual, started wearing athleisure, and mostly live on all-dressed pizza.”

As you can see, some new words are old words that have been given new meanings. These new words not only demonstrate the evolution of language and reflect issues affecting our world today, they also annoy the heck out of purists.

To Verb or Not to Verb

For example, maybe you’ve heard someone rail against the practice of turning nouns into verbs, also known as “verbing.” Like when conference becomes conferencing. Someone may even have told you that this isn’t proper English.

Now if only that purist had been around 400 years ago, they could have delivered their complaints to a champion verber—Shakespeare. He transformed nouns like elbow and gossip into verbs, elbowing out old norms and setting purists gossiping.

An actor in period costume evokes the idea that when you invent a word you it becomes a kind of time capsule or historical language lesson. (Image by Pxhere)

What’s in a name? Richard Burton models Shakespearean jeggings (2009)
—oops, leg warmers (1915)—oops, pantyhose (1959)—oops, hose (1100s).
Pxhere

In fact, Shakespeare’s habit of anthimeria is one you probably share. Anthimeria is the use of one part of speech as another, such as when:

you bookmark a website (noun used as a verb)
you need a good night’s sleep (verb used a noun)
or, as one 60s pop song put it, “you keep samin’ when you oughta be changin'” (adjective used as a verb)

Samin’ is not what words do. You might even say, these words were made for walkin’, because language is constantly on the move, dancing to new tunes, topics, and events to communicate new meanings.

Looking Back-Word

As for where humans’ first words came from, sorry, I wasn’t there or I’d’ve made notes. But what I can tell you are some time-honored ways of making up words that we still use today:

1. Adding Suffixes and Prefixes. Undoubtedly, you already know that historically, many words materialized as humans began affixing adorable word parts onto plain old root words. The transformations were limitless!

Current examples: declutter, preexisting, unplug

2. Clipping. Another way we get new words is to give old words a haircut. That’s how public houses became pubs, pianofortes became pianos, fanatics became fans, and typographical errors became typos.

Current examples: celeb (celebrity), prom (promenade), blog (web log), stats (statistics)

A duck that can quack suggests an instant language lesson in how to invent a word—use onomatopoeia. (Image by Pxhere)

Creating words can be a quack up! Onomatopoeia is forming words that imitate sounds.
Pxhere

3. Blending. If you’ve ever read Lewis Carroll’s poem “The Jabberwocky,” the so-called nonsense words were actually blended words. Carroll called them portmanteau words, after a kind of suitcase that opened into two sections. So slithy actually “packed up” both slimy and lithe, and chortle combined chuckle and snort.

Throughout history, many blended words crossed into mainstream English, such as smog (smoke + fog), motel (motor + hotel), telethon (telephone + marathon), brunch (breakfast + lunch).

Current examples: Brexit (Britain + exit), pixel (picture + element), rom-com (romantic + comedy)

4. Compounding. Similar to blending, compounding coins one new expression from two old words. Backseat driver, bean counter, smiley face, tie dye, and mood ring have been with us since the days of disco inferno, leisure suits, and the floppy disk, but the Bard himself—an avid popularizer of compound words— would have reacted to them with bare-faced, addle-pated confusion.

Current examples: gig economy, dark web, screen time

A child’s hand taking an orange embodies an language lesson in how to invent a word—borrow from another language, like the Arabic for “orange”, naranj. (Image by JoshMB and Pixabay)

How to make new words? Borrow from another language—like orange,
from the Arabic word nāranj.
JoshMB/ Pixabay

5. Eponyms. What’s in a name? Words we use on a daily basis. OIC Moments readers know such famous examples as:

boycott from Irish land agent Charles C. Boycott
Fahrenheit, from physicist Gabriel Daniel Fahrenheit
America, from Italian mapmaker Amerigo Vespucci

But did you know that words like diesel and nicotine are also eponyms? German engineer Rudolf Diesel gave his name to both the engine and the fuel that powered it, while sixteenth century diplomat Jean Nicot de Villemain apparently introduced tobacco to France. Even sideburns, guppy, shrapnel, mesmerize, and leotard are named for real people.

An eponym can be based on fiction. Consider paparazzi. In the 1960s Italian film La Dolce Vita, a photographer named Paparazzo works for gossip magazines. The word paparazzo was used because it sounds like the buzz of an annoying insect.

Where are the women, you may ask? Underrepresented. The most famous is Amelia Bloomer. No, she didn’t create bloomers, but her advocacy for women’s rights inspired the name of this alternative to the heavy dresses that restricted women’s movements.

Current examples: Jacuzzi, Darwinian, Tesla

A tornado symbolizes a surprising language lesson—people sometimes invent a word by mistake. (Image by Pxhere)

Word twist(er)? Mistakes can create new words. English speakers inverted o and r in
the Spanish word for “thunderstorm,” tronada, and then used this to describe
another kind of extreme weather—the tornado.
Pxhere

For-Word into the Future!

These are just a few language lessons in how to invent a word. As each new word emerges, the knowledge it carries adds to the lore—and often the allure—of language. You have my word.

Letter tiles evokea key language lesson—there is always the potential to invent a word. (Image by Pxhere)

What’s the next new word?
Pxhere

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Track the journey of OMG into the Oxford English Dictionary, here.

What words were “invented” during your birth year? Find out here!

Joyce McGreevy 2 Comments

Wordplay

Sep

Voilà! The Poetry of Untranslatable Words

by Meredith Mullins on September 28, 2020

Linguistic trivia says that the Inuits have 50 words for snow. But how, in languages,
do you find the one perfect word to describe something—le mot juste?
© Meredith Mullins

Wordplay with Meaning

We live in challenging times. We have had to become super-adaptable beings, asking ourselves every day how to cope with the multitude of new normals.

What changes emerge?

Have you, like most of the world, savored hyggelig and gezelligheid?

Have you searched for moments of beauty in komorebi, mångata, and psithurism?

Have you had the urge to commit to jijivisha and to integrate firgun and merak into life rhythms?

Wait a minute, you’re saying to yourself. What language are we speaking here? We’re not that adaptable. What do these cryptic words mean?

Has OIC Moments lapsed into a world of jabberwocky—wordplay with nonsense words that have no meaning? No . . . we are just taking a moment to appreciate the elegance of untranslatable words.

How many untranslatable words about reindeer are there in Finnish?
Read on for the best one.
© iStock/Artpilot

Tales of the Untranslatable

This “Oh, I see” moment is about words in different languages that have no direct translation in English.

Almost all of the 7000+ languages in the world have words that cannot be succinctly translated. They are such a perfect poetic reflection of the people and lifestyle of their own culture that it takes several English words to convey their meaning. More often than not, the translations fall short of the more insightful meaning that has evolved within the culture.

There’s No Place Like Home

Many of the untranslatable words describe feelings of home.

Hyggelig (Danish/Norwegian)

The Danish/Norwegian hyggelig conjures a picture of contentment and coziness. You feel warm just hearing the word.

It’s about friendship, comfort, security, good times, and all the important things in life. A translation of “nice” doesn’t begin to describe what this word means to these cultures, although the entymological similarity to the English word “hug” provides some hint to the underlying meaning.

The Dutch word gezelligheid and the German word gemütlichkeit also allude to this kind of comfortable feeling.

We could all use a little hyggelig in our life.
© iStock/Solovyova

Depaysement (French)

The French word depaysement means feeling apart from your world of origin. It can occur when you are in another country and you sense that you don’t quite belong. This unfamiliar feeling might cause a longing for your home country or general unease at being away.

Hiraeth (Welsh)

The Welsh word hiraeth also refers to a longing for the homeland, but includes a sadness for anything that has been lost. It is a wistfulness for lost friends and a regret that the past is the past and cannot be relived. It could be translated into an interweaving of three words: yearning, nostalgia, and homesickness.

Saudade (Portuguese)

Saudade in Portuguese is similar to hiraeth. It is a longing for something or someone that is lost. The love still burns strong for this missing link.

A Search for Beauty

Moving on from the words that linger on nostalgia and yearning, we find solace in the beauty and peace of nature.

Komorebi (Japanese)

The Japanese word komorebi invokes an image of sunlight filtering through trees. The translation includes “tree,” “escape,” and “light,” but what arrives in the imagination far exceeds the words. The scene that comes to mind includes rays of sunlight that take on a spiritual quality when finding their way through a silent forest.

Mångata (Swedish)

Mångata is a visual story. This Swedish word describes the reflection of the moon on water as it seems to create a shimmering path. Yakamoz in Turkish has a similar meaning. These cultures clearly have romantic reverence for the moon . . . and a single lyrical word to honor its magic.

Psithurism (Greek)

Why shouldn’t a language have a word for the sound of leaves rustling in the wind? The word psithurism is adapted from the ancient Greek word meaning “whisper” and offers yet another sensory path to connect with nature.

Waldeinsamkeit (German)

The German word waldeinsamkeit describes the feeling of being connected to nature when you’re alone in the woods. The literal translation includes “wald” which means forest, and “einsamkeit,” which means loneliness or solitude.

For Germans, the word is more than a description. It is a philosophy that focuses on finding the beauty of nature in a quiet setting and looking both outward and inward. Several poets, including Ralph Waldo Emerson, have used this word in their poetry.

Another German word, waldbaden, has a similar meaning. It translates to bathing in the forest—opening your senses while in the woods and letting nature flow over and in you.

Gökotta (Swedish)

This word inspires a life change that seems to bring happiness to those who embrace it (although you have to be a morning person). It means to rise at dawn to go outside and listen to the birds’ first songs of the day.

Gluggaveður (Icelandic)

Not all interaction with nature is so intimate and meditative. The word gluggaveður in Icelandic is a prime example of needing to have a front row, warm, indoor seat to observe nature. It translates to “windowweather.”

Sometimes the best way to enjoy the beauty of inclement weather is through the window,
a nod to gluggaveður in Icelandic.
© iStock/Sveti

More Practical Than Poetic

There are also untranslatable words that are practical, referring to the mundane tasks and challenges of daily life, especially the elements that are specific to the culture.

Tsundoku (Japanese)

The Japanese word tsundoku means to buy a book and leave it unread, piling it with the other unread books in your home. (How many of us need to add this word to our vocabulary?)

Schilderwald (German)

This word brings a smile as it means a maze or jungle of traffic signs—a street crowded with so many road signs that you can’t find your way out. The more literal translation is “a forest of signs.”

Gigil (Tagalog)

The Filipinos have a word that captures the irresistible urge to hug or pinch something cute.

Pana po’o (Hawaiian)

The Hawaiians have a special word to describe the act of scratching your head to try to remember something—pana po’o.

Poronkusema (Finnish)

Finland has introduced a unit of measure that all can understand. Poronkusema means the distance a reindeer can comfortably travel before taking a break.

Pisanzapra (Malaysian)

Malaysia uses some specific measures of time. The pinsanzapra equals the minutes needed to eat a banana.

The next time you have the irresistible urge to hug something cute,
there IS a word for it (in Tagalog)—gigil.
© iStock/BichoRaro

Life Resolutions

The wordplay that we find in untranslatable words tells us much about the cultures of the world. As we think about which of these words we would like to incorporate into our own life, we find out more about ourselves.

I have embraced all these words (yes, even reindeer distance). There are hundreds more worthy of study. But I add to the vocabulary three additional words that shouldn’t be missed.

The Hindi word jijivisha means a strong wish to live life intensely. Add to that the Serbian word merak and the Hebrew word firgun and there can be purpose in these challenging times.

Merak translates to happiness and a feeling of connection to the universe with the simplest of pleasures.

Firgun tells the story of unselfish joy for someone or something and a true generosity of spirit.

Words to live by.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Meredith Mullins 8 Comments

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