in

Paul McFedries' Tech Tonic

Making the world a better place, one computer book at a time

Lingua Techna

Technology, language, and technical writing (plus some interesting stuff, too)

August 2007 - Posts

  • Too Many Chiefs

    I learned recently that a firm called AllOut Marketing has a new kind of CEO: a chief energizing officer. I have no idea what the poor sap who holds this position actually does all day, but it sounds as though it involves a pink bunny suit and a drum.

    This got me to thinking about, of all things, lion food. This phrase comes from the old joke about two lions who escape from the zoo and split up to increase their chances for survival. When they meet again a couple of months later, one is emaciated and the other is overweight. The skinny lion complains that he was able to eat just a single human being before being chased and harassed to the point where he could now only consume the occasional mouse or squirrel. The fat lion replies: "Well, I hid near an IBM office and ate a manager a day. And nobody even noticed!" Lion food has therefore become a cheeky shorthand for the apparently inexhaustible supply of managers and administrators that make up the soft middle of many major corporations.

    But now it seems as though we have a new supply of lion food: the chief insert-noun/verb/adjective-here officers, known collectively as the C-level or C-suite. This goes way beyond the usual collection of CEO, CFO, COO, CIO, and CTO. (And lets not forget the SheEO: an unforgivably bad pun for a female CEO.) This new wave of CXO titles ranges from chief awareness officer (employed at, among other companies, Guardent and Marks & Spencer) to chief zoom officer (from Zoom Culture, a "new media" company) and they're sprouting as fast as the consultants can suggest them. My research turned up over 200 "C" titles, and I would have found more but, luckily, I remembered I had a life.

    In technology alone, I found a few dozen different CXOs, including the following:

    chief competitive officer (Sun Microsystems; PalmSource); chief content officer (Kagan Worldwide Media; ON24); chief data officer (CommTel); chief demonstration officer (Cisco); chief e-business officer (Ketchum; MasterCard International); chief e-commerce officer (BellSouth; First Union); chief engineering officer (Google; Cerner); chief ergonomic officer (FrogPad); chief evangelistic officer (Content That Works); chief hacking officer (Eeye Digital; Yihat); chief informatics officer (Exelixis); chief information security officer (FedEx; Microsoft); chief intellectual officer (Answerthink); chief Internet officer (MCI/WorldCom; DoubleClick); chief knowledge officer (EDS; PricewaterhouseCoopers); chief learning officer (GE; Xerox); chief linguistics officer (yourDictionary.com); chief logistics officer (Owens Corning; Wal-Mart); chief networking officer (Sun Microsystems; Concentric Network); chief privacy officer (Hewlett Packard; IBM); chief product officer (Handspring; Factiva); chief research officer (IDC); chief response officer (Random House); chief risk officer (Enron(!); Accenture); chief scientific officer (Bristol-Myers Squibb; Celera Genomics); chief software officer (Support.com; Zero-Knowledge Systems); chief solutions officer (Yahoo!; VERTEX); chief usability officer (Diamond Bullet Design; i-on); chief Xbox officer (Microsoft); chief Web officer (FirstMerit; Franklin Templeton); chief wireless officer (Fidelity Investments; iConverse).

    I'm currently researching other odd job titles in the technology industry, so if you know of any, please pass them along.

    A little knowledge...

    Of all these new CXO titles, the one with the most remarkable career arc is certainly the chief knowledge officer. Unheard of in 1995, the CKO is now a fixture in 25% of Fortune 500 boardrooms. The ascendancy of the CKO is a reflection of the relative importance that business is putting on knowledge over mere information. (Which also explains why many chief information officers are morphing into CKOs; that and the notoriously high turnover rate that plagues the CIO position, leading some wags to claim that it really stands for Career Is Over.)

    The CKO is, in the simplest terms, the overseer of a company's knowledge management (KM) — that is, the way the company creates, organizes, and shares its institutional knowledge. This intellectual capital constitutes the corporate memory, but what happens when a corporation forgets what it knows? What happens, for example, when Ted, who's been keeping the IT department together for the past 25 years, retires or is laid off? The expertise stored in his brain becomes orphan knowledge. (What likely happens next is that Ted gets hired back as a boomerang: a "consultant" making twice his previous salary.)

    The CKO takes to heart the maxim of former Hewlett Packard CEO Lew Platt: "If HP knew what HP knows, we would be three times as profitable." The CKO finds out what his corporation knows by setting up knowledge mining expeditions where knowledge engineers codify corporate know-how using knowledge technology such as business intelligence software. (Business intelligence isn't quite as oxymoronic as military intelligence, but given the recent headlines in the financial pages, it's getting pretty close.)

    In the early 90s, fad-surfing managers claimed their companies needed information rather than data. Now the business winds have changed again, and knowledge is ascendant. But surely wisdom is more precious than knowledge, so can the days of the CWO—the chief wisdom officer—be far away?

    IEEE Spectrum, August 2002This post appeared originally as my Technically Speaking column in the August 2002 issue of IEEE Spectrum. I'll be posting these columns more or less weekly over the next few months.

  • Oddcasting

    One of the most productive — and often one of the most fun — ways that wordsmiths forge coinages is the creation of what I call "rhyming blends." A TV sitcom aimed at teenagers is a zitcom; a kitchen utensil with a cute design is a cutensil; a male nanny is a manny. (The examples are legion.) Certain syllables seem to be prone to this kind of linguistic surgery, and one of the most prolific currently is the "od" part of podcasting. If you're into podcasting video content, then you're vodcasting. In October, 2005 the GodCast Network was born, and it features a service called godcasting: podcasting sermons and other religious messages. On the opposite side of the moral spectrum, Playboy now offers a bodcasting service for those who simply must have nude podcasts.

    This trend will, of course, continue. Here are a few more services I expect to see in the near future:

    • nodcasting — Reduce stress by watching other people sleep.
    • clodcasting — Idiots are people too.
    • sodcasting — Watching the grass grow.
    • hotrodcasting — Fast cars over a fast connection!
    • gastropodcasting — All mollusks, all the time!
    • disembodcasting — Let your spirit soar by watching someone else's spirit soar.
    • Ichabodcasting — What's new with the Headless Horseman?

     

    Posted Aug 29 2007, 05:56 PM by Paul with no comments
    Filed under:
  • "Monotonous uniqueness"

    I love the phrase "monotonous uniqueness" (not to mention the just-as-good "conventional individuality" and "distinctive sameness") in this excerpt from Christine Rosen's piece Virtual Friendship and the New Narcissism in the Summer issue of The New Atlantis:

    This kind of coarseness and vulgarity is commonplace on social networking sites for a reason: it’s an easy way to set oneself apart. Pharaohs and kings once celebrated themselves by erecting towering statues or, like the emperor Augustus, placing their own visages on coins. But now, as the insightful technology observer Jaron Lanier has written, “Since there are only a few archetypes, ideals, or icons to strive for in comparison to the vastness of instances of everything online, quirks and idiosyncrasies stand out better than grandeur in this new domain. I imagine Augustus’ MySpace page would have pictured him picking his nose.” And he wouldn’t be alone. Indeed, this is one of the characteristics of MySpace most striking to anyone who spends a few hours trolling its millions of pages: it is an overwhelmingly dull sea of monotonous uniqueness, of conventional individuality, of distinctive sameness.

  • Filling the Gaps

    Technology is a language-generating machine. With letters, phonemes, prefixes, suffixes, and existing words as its raw materials, technology constantly manufactures shiny new acronyms, words, and phrases to describe its onrushing supply of new ideas, processes, and products. Yes, the nexus of electronics, computing, communications, and Internet technologies has been the prime language mover over the past decade or three, but technology has always stamped out new words at an impressive clip. Most of these terms remain warehoused within the narrow tech communities that defined them.

    However, some are shipped out on the linguistic equivalents of planes, trains, and automobiles and get distributed far and wide. A few of these even morph into general-purpose words and phrases. For example, the railroads gave us terms such as derail, sidetrack, streamline, and pick up steam; the car industry donated spark plug, bypass, blow a gasket, and rev up; aviation contributed push the envelope, automatic pilot, bail out, and gremlin; radio spun off flip side, fine-tune, and stereo; and nuclear technology provided us with ground zero, fall-out, and meltdown.

    But even though technology has always been a kind of new-word assembly line, what's different these days is that technology is cranking out fresh terms at a rate that has gone from merely geometric to downright exponential. That's not because people are doing more neologizing in their spare time. No, it's because we now have more technology than ever. We don't just have telephones, we have mobile phones, pagers, satellite phones, and wireless devices. We don't just have computers, we have desktops, servers, notebooks, palmtops, PDAs, and Internet appliances. New gadgets, new technologies, new services, and new ideas stride purposefully down Technology Road every day, each one pulling a bright red wagon full of newly minted words and phrases.

    And not only have an amazing number of new technologies appeared in the past decade or two, but their associated techno-coinages now have a super-efficient method of propagation: the electronic byways of e-mail, chat rooms, instant messaging, and the Web. In the pre-Internet world, new words would tend to stay within the cultural tributary that coined them, and only a few would get swept out into the mainstream. Now there is a subculture — the Internet and its adjunct technologies — that includes hundreds of millions of people, and so by definition is part of the mainstream. This means it doesn't take much for new words and phrases to catch on.

    Keeping up with this deluge of newfangled technical terms will be the future focus of the Technically Speaking column. I'll examine new words and phrases that have jumped down from their technological niches and are poised to set up shop in the broader piazza of general language use.

    That's not to say that every new word gets the "household" adjective attached to it. The course of a word's career is difficult to predict. A rare few catch a break by being associated with some large pop culture phenomenon. (Seinfeld alone is responsible for the otherwise-inexplicable popularity of terms such as mimbo, close-talker, and spongeworthy, not to mention the renewed popularity of older phrases such as yadda yadda yadda.) But a slow, undignified slide into linguistic obscurity is the fate of most new coinages.

    I definitely won't be writing about stunt words. A stunt word is a form of nonce word (a word made up specially for a single occasion); it's a word coined in an act of conspicuous cleverness by someone who is merely showing off. Stunt words, although they're often fun, rarely make it into the linguistic mainstream, so they're not usually very interesting. Of much greater interest are real words or phrases that people are actually using and that have had some measure of acceptance (as indicated by appearances in newspapers, magazines, and other media).

    Holes in the language

    Most likely, you'll see a lot of guests from my favorite neological clique, the gap-fillers—words that fill a hole in the language. They're coined out of necessity because no existing word or phrase aptly describes or names some object or phenomenon. Technologies tend to create language gaps. For example, what would you call a verbal error made while using a voice recognition system? Well, let's see: If a mistake made while typing is a typo, then a mistake made while speaking could be called, what, a speako? Sure enough, that word has been around since about 1995. Here are some other gaps that have been filled in recently:

    • What might you call a person who seeks to change some aspect of society and who has the high level of technical expertise required to make that change? Try evangineer (evangelist plus engineer; this one was coined in 1999).
    • What would you call the accidental transmission or display of private online data to a third-party? How about a data spill (a play on oil spill; this one's from 2000).
    • What's the term for a young, malicious cracker who isn't smart enough or skilled enough to create custom cracking software? Call him or her a kiddiot (2000) or a script kiddie (1996).

    If you hear an interesting new word or phrase in your technological travels, please don't hesitate to pass it along for possible inclusion in a future post.

    IEEE Spectrum, June 2002This post appeared originally as my Technically Speaking column in the June 2002 issue of IEEE Spectrum. I'll be posting these columns more or less weekly over the next few months.

  • Hello World!

    It used to be that when people asked me what I did for a living, I'd simply say that I was a writer. "Ooh, how interesting," they'd coo, "What kinds of books do you write?" When I then told them that I write computer books, their expression would droop noticeably, they'd get this glazed look in their eye, quickly down their cocktail, and say "Whoops, looks like I need another drink. Bye!" Nowadays, I just come right out and tell people that I write computer books, which, at least, spares me that look of disappointment (but not, unfortunately, the eye glazing and sudden dash to the bar).

    Every now and then, however, some kind and curious soul will want to know more about my odd profession, particularly how I got started. "That's an interesting story," I'll lie, and then I'll launch into an epic description of the momentous event. Luckily, you get just the short version:

    In a previous life (during the late 80s), I worked for a publishing company that was the Canadian distributor for various computer book lines, including Que and Sams. I managed the computer books division, and had several sales reps working for me. Being a long-time geek (I've been programming since 1975 and I have a degree in mathematics), I decided to put together a sales management system for my reps. Using a now-ancient version of the dBASE database software, I wrote an application that enabled the reps to count the book inventory in their customer's stores and download this info into a laptop. From there, the rep could calculate sales, take new orders, and perform other high-tech tasks.

    I also wrote a manual that explained each of the functions of the system. When I was writing this manual, I was struck by how much I enjoyed translating a complex task into a series of simple steps. Would writing a computer book offer the same level of enjoyment, I wondered? Probably, but the manual was a mere 50 pages, and I figured there was no way I could possibly write a 400-page tome. I just didn't think I had that much to say!

    The 10 Minute Guide to the Norton Utilities 6Later, while visiting the head office of Macmillan Computer Publishing, I was explaining my sales management system at a meeting and I happened to mention that I now knew so much about dBASE that I could probably write a book about it, har, har. An editor was there, and, for some inexplicable reason, she took me seriously. "Would you be interested in writing a book," she asked. "Well, sure, I guess." From there it all happened very quickly. I sent down the manual that I'd written, they liked it, and I ended up with a contract to write The 10 Minute Guide to the Norton Utilities. Woo hoo!

    Another contract followed, and then another, and then they said I could write as many books as I wanted. Since writing books was way more fun than being a cog in the corporate wheel, I immediately quit my job and started writing full-time. (To help make ends meet, I also did some consulting and programming.)

    So that's how it all started. Since then, I've written over fifty books, including various editions of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Windows, Windows Unleashed, and The Complete Idiot's Guide to Creating a Web Page. Amazingly, my books have sold over 3 million copies around the world.

Copyright © 2008 Logophilia Limited and Paul McFedries
Powered by Community Server (Commercial Edition), by Telligent Systems