First, an introduction: I’ve long been fascinated with etymology because I believe language captures the history of understanding, not education, mind you, but understanding. The origin of English teacher, for example, lies in Old English’s tacn (or taecan), Proto-Germanic taikijan, both words related by meaning: “To show, declare, warn, persuade” and “To show,” in noun form Old English’s “sign, mark,” maybe even “guide” or “guidepost.” For me that has always meant a teacher is a guide, someone who points another in a certain direction, hopefully “the right direction.” No doubt in my many years of teaching, I wasn’t at times the best guide or guidepost, but I might have been so in other times. Guideposts are passive objects; guides are active people. As everyone knows, a teacher isn’t very good if a student refuses to acquire a lesson. As a guidepost, teachers fail all the time; as a guide, they often succeed. Want an analogy: “Keep off the Grass” signs work for a few days, then they don’t. “Wear a Mask” signs worked for a few months in early 2020, then they didn’t. Looking back, I hope I was more guide than guidepost.
Second: Take the last paragraph as a way of discussing the etymology of another word, this one vitriol. These seem to be vitriolic times, don’t they? Not everywhere, of course, but certainly in places like Portland, Oregon, elsewhere in the USA, in Hong Kong, and in a number of European cities, where the citizenry is upset by restrictions imposed by their governments. Lots of vitriol. Maybe the word’s origin can help us understand our own times.
In the late 1300s, a century-old French word became vitriol, meaning the “sulfate of iron,” not the pills one can buy at Walgreen’s or Walmart, but rather, Iron (II) sulfate, which is also called ferrous sulfate, typically a combination of iron, sulfur, and oxygen bound to a number of water molecules (hydrated). The “water-form” is the stuff of those pills that help reduce iron deficiency (8 million prescriptions per year in the US). In medieval times, ferrous sulfate was not used as a medicine for iron deficiency. It was used to make ink (iron gall ink), and it was known to produce a very corrosive and at that time not understood substance upon heating: Sulfuric acid.
Corrosive sulfuric acid. That’s how we eventually got to our English vitriol. But there was an intermediate step. Because some sulfate minerals look glassy and vitreus in Latin means “glassy,” our modern word derived from a word unrelated to feelings. By the mid-18th century, English vitriol had come to mean “bitter or corrosive feelings,” “caustic feelings.” (But now we’re all over the etymological map because “caustic” is associated with bases and not with acids. Ah! One can just go on and on etymologically; caustic derives from Greek kaustikos and Latin causticus, “burning”) So, our vitriolic times are chemically akin to sulfuric acid’s effects (and if one sees videos of the fires set by vitriolic, anarchic protestors in Portland and elsewhere, akin to the effect of “burning” buildings and attempted murders by arson).
Anyway, we’re in vitriolic times. And the most vitriolic among us appear to have no agenda other than burning down buildings and people. And those who won’t risk actual confrontations have turned to online vitriol. Now, is there a neutralization process for the online acid similar to putting baking soda on vinegar, that is putting a base on an acid? Sure.
All reactions, such as the neutralization process, involve an exchange of energy. If I correctly remember my chemistry (this is questionable), the neutralization of an acid is an exothermic process. That seems to be what we need in these times, a neutralization that gets rid of heat, in this case, the heat of vitriol. I suppose the best way to eliminate the heat of online vitriol is by robbing it of its energy, that is, by not responding, even by turning off the computer, smart phone, or tablet.
Of course, vitriol has outlets other than www and rioting. In. times past, newspapers—and even the pamphlets of colonial days—served up vitriol. I remember living in Miami in 1980 before the riots and reading daily the Miami Herald. In the spring, I told my family that the editors of the paper seem to want civil unrest, exhibited by their slant and coverage. Sure enough, the vitriol built up, and people rioted (and, of course, looted, because looting solves all problems). Now, I shouldn’t blame the Miami Herald specifically. It was, however, an acidic component, lending its news-protons to the process, just as some of the major media today lend their own news-protons to the slightest vitriol. Tiny, those protons can cause some big reactions. And when major news outlets reach millions of people to the exclusion of potential neutralizing news bases, they produce a strong acid, an “oil of vitriol” as sulfuric acid was once commonly called.
Acids are not made less acidic by pouring acids on them. Maybe those in the news media and social media need a simple lesson in chemistry. Or maybe they had a course in chemistry, but their teachers were guideposts and not guides.
Second: Take the last paragraph as a way of discussing the etymology of another word, this one vitriol. These seem to be vitriolic times, don’t they? Not everywhere, of course, but certainly in places like Portland, Oregon, elsewhere in the USA, in Hong Kong, and in a number of European cities, where the citizenry is upset by restrictions imposed by their governments. Lots of vitriol. Maybe the word’s origin can help us understand our own times.
In the late 1300s, a century-old French word became vitriol, meaning the “sulfate of iron,” not the pills one can buy at Walgreen’s or Walmart, but rather, Iron (II) sulfate, which is also called ferrous sulfate, typically a combination of iron, sulfur, and oxygen bound to a number of water molecules (hydrated). The “water-form” is the stuff of those pills that help reduce iron deficiency (8 million prescriptions per year in the US). In medieval times, ferrous sulfate was not used as a medicine for iron deficiency. It was used to make ink (iron gall ink), and it was known to produce a very corrosive and at that time not understood substance upon heating: Sulfuric acid.
Corrosive sulfuric acid. That’s how we eventually got to our English vitriol. But there was an intermediate step. Because some sulfate minerals look glassy and vitreus in Latin means “glassy,” our modern word derived from a word unrelated to feelings. By the mid-18th century, English vitriol had come to mean “bitter or corrosive feelings,” “caustic feelings.” (But now we’re all over the etymological map because “caustic” is associated with bases and not with acids. Ah! One can just go on and on etymologically; caustic derives from Greek kaustikos and Latin causticus, “burning”) So, our vitriolic times are chemically akin to sulfuric acid’s effects (and if one sees videos of the fires set by vitriolic, anarchic protestors in Portland and elsewhere, akin to the effect of “burning” buildings and attempted murders by arson).
Anyway, we’re in vitriolic times. And the most vitriolic among us appear to have no agenda other than burning down buildings and people. And those who won’t risk actual confrontations have turned to online vitriol. Now, is there a neutralization process for the online acid similar to putting baking soda on vinegar, that is putting a base on an acid? Sure.
All reactions, such as the neutralization process, involve an exchange of energy. If I correctly remember my chemistry (this is questionable), the neutralization of an acid is an exothermic process. That seems to be what we need in these times, a neutralization that gets rid of heat, in this case, the heat of vitriol. I suppose the best way to eliminate the heat of online vitriol is by robbing it of its energy, that is, by not responding, even by turning off the computer, smart phone, or tablet.
Of course, vitriol has outlets other than www and rioting. In. times past, newspapers—and even the pamphlets of colonial days—served up vitriol. I remember living in Miami in 1980 before the riots and reading daily the Miami Herald. In the spring, I told my family that the editors of the paper seem to want civil unrest, exhibited by their slant and coverage. Sure enough, the vitriol built up, and people rioted (and, of course, looted, because looting solves all problems). Now, I shouldn’t blame the Miami Herald specifically. It was, however, an acidic component, lending its news-protons to the process, just as some of the major media today lend their own news-protons to the slightest vitriol. Tiny, those protons can cause some big reactions. And when major news outlets reach millions of people to the exclusion of potential neutralizing news bases, they produce a strong acid, an “oil of vitriol” as sulfuric acid was once commonly called.
Acids are not made less acidic by pouring acids on them. Maybe those in the news media and social media need a simple lesson in chemistry. Or maybe they had a course in chemistry, but their teachers were guideposts and not guides.
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