Bitching and Cunting: a Definition of Terms

Folks tend to be imprecise in their use of words. We've discussed this before in this space, in a post about the definition of stupidity and insanity, among other things. Another place where the subtle difference between similar words causes confusion lies in the space between the terms 'bitching' and 'cunting.'

Almost everyone is familiar with bitching. We've all bitched about this, that, or the other thing now and then. You're bitching when you say, "Dammit, why do I have to do this now? This is so stupid!" whenever your boss asks you to finish those "TPS reports" by the end of today, Friday, when you know perfectly well that no one will even be in the office to look at them until Tuesday at the earliest. Bitching is a form of complaining; it springs from a place of feeling abused, put upon, mistreated, or just simply frustrated. Bitching is complaining that comes from a place of--or at least, the perception of being in a position of--powerlessness.

Insanity and Stupidity, Defined

Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
Albert Einstein  

It is noteworthy that the quote given above is attributed to Albert Einstein; apparently, it takes a recognized genius to get this quote right and actually understand its meaning.

I have heard that line, or something very similar, quoted time and again to define "insanity." The problem often arises when the quote is subtly changed; the line is often misquoted as:

"Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result." (emphasis added)

This formulation is in error. Notice the difference at the end of that statement versus the one at the top. "Expecting different results" versus "expecting a different result." That minor change from the plural to the singular may seem innocuous, but in fact it changes the entire meaning of the statement, and indeed changes the statement from a definition of insanity into a definition of a different mental condition: stupidity.

Let's break this down. In both cases in question, the perpetrator of the dubious action commits the same act: he does the same thing over and over again. Nothing changes there. Whether you're stupid or crazy, you will apparently engage in repeated behaviors as a matter of course.

This repeat performance without variation tells the observer something about the perpetrator's state of mind--the question is, what does it tell us, and how? That depends upon the object of the repeated action. Changing the object of the action--doing the same thing over and over again, but with a different set of expectations for the result--defines either insanity or stupidity, depending upon those expectations.

When the expectations are focused on a singular outcome--"and expecting A DIFFERENT RESULT" (singular)--this is a hallmark of stupidity. This becomes clear if you consider a likely scenario for this test. Imagine a perpetrator who has been asked to perform a task similar to a classic IQ test assignment: place the correct peg in the correct hole. Someone who takes a square peg and tries to place it in a round hole of similar diameter is destined for disappointment. If that someone continues to try to place the square peg in the round hole, despite previous failures--because he apparently expects that a square peg somehow should fit into a round hole--then that individual displays a distinct lack of ability to learn from previous experience. That is the very essence of stupidity: inability to learn. In this example, there is one specific goal in mind--fitting the square peg into the round hole--which is never achieved, and that fact is never grasped because of the subject's inability to learn.

Things are different when the expectations change from repeated action to repeated action. When the perpetrator performs his deeds "EXPECTING DIFFERENT RESULTS" (plural), the equation changes. Now the subject repeats his action not due to a lack of learning from past failures; each time the actor performs his action, he does so with a brand new set of expectations for the result. The first time he tries to fit the square peg in the round hole, he may expect it to simply fit. The next time, he assumes the round hole will grow to accommodate the square peg. A third time, he may believe the peg will change shape, or simply disappear the instant it meets the edge of the hole--or any of dozens of other possibilities. Hence, different results. Expectations in such a case are untethered from the specific reality of a square peg not fitting in a round hole; in the perpetrator's mind, anything can happen, each and every time he tries the repeated action. Being detached from reality is, of course, the very definition of insanity.

Thus, when we encounter someone who does the same thing over and over again, determining the repeat actor's expectations for the results of his action is vital to figuring out if the person in question is stupid or crazy. If said person makes a clear declaration that "I will do X, and Y will result" and the continues to do X despite Y never occurring, you can make a pretty safe bet that that person is stupid. Otherwise, without that clear declaration of intentions and expectations, the individual who performs that same action repeatedly without ever getting anywhere--that individual is most likely insane, or at least not entirely in full possession of his proverbial marbles.

What this case study shows is how important it is to get your terms absolutely correct. Being sloppy or lazy with the language--shifting a singular to a plural, or vice versa, without fully comprehending the implications of the difference--can hinder understanding of what's really going on in this world, especially when a formula like Einstein's quote is casually tossed around by people who are not themselves "Einsteins." Modifying one letter--changed and then shifted within the phrase--can make for an entirely different meaning, one that the speaker never intended and that the listener will never fully understand.

Such are the perils of a lack of precision in using the language.

A Treatise on the Nature of Beauty

I've given a lot of thought to the nature of beauty over the years. Not because of anything I see in the mirror; far from it! But because I recognize--in a way that many people do not realize, or rather do not acknowledge--that beauty has an overwhelming influence on our lives: how we live, who we are, who we are allowed to be, where we fit in in this world (or this society, at least).

We use many words to describe beautiful people. Men are generally characterized as "handsome." We resort to a much broader range of terms when women are the subject: gorgeous, lovely, pretty, cute, alluring, ravishing...when it comes to female beauty, you could fill a thesaurus and the tremendous number of synonyms for what we call beautiful.

I've come to believe that the reason we have so many terms for a female beauty is as an acknowledgement that there are different kinds of beauty. Everyone who is good-looking is beautiful, but beautiful people come in different flavors, so to speak, and those different flavors affect the observer in different ways.

(An aside: Let's get one thing straight--beauty is NOT in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is one of the most rigidly defined aspects of human existence.

Studies have shown again and again that the symmetry and proportions of the human face determine how that face is perceived as beautiful or not. If you don't believe that, just drop a few words in that search bar up at the top of this window and you can find those results. [Here's a starting point: http://legacy.jyi.org/volumes/volume6/issue6/features/feng.html ]

Even when somebody declares as beautiful a person who is not, according to the common understanding of that term, that declaration is usually made to make a point--to engage in a certain amount of iconoclasm for one reason or another.

Individual tastes vary, for one reason or another, but if you ask a broad swath of observers to judge the beauty of this, that, or the other person, the vast majority will agree, whether the answer is yes, no, or meh--and if it's yes, that answer will apply to people so similar to other "yes" examples that researchers have developed masks that define a beautiful face based on the averages of such proportions.

Beauty, to put it bluntly, is mathematical; it's geometric. It is not a subjective experience.)

Insofar as most people acknowledge these differences, they tend to categorize those variations as part of a hierarchy. Meaning: the woman who is "pretty" is more beautiful than someone who is "just" "cute," and so on. However, I have come to believe that this is NOT true; the different flavors of beauty are perceived as such, but they do not relate to each other in any kind of tiered ranking. "Cute" is not inferior to "pretty"; it's just a different kind of beauty, one that--in the correct circumstances--can have more impact on the person perceiving it than the other varieties of beauty.

According to my theory, there are three primary forms of beauty. Two of these forms were immediately obvious to me, almost as to be self-evident: the aforementioned "Cute" and "Pretty." Most observers intuitively recognize a beautiful woman as being either of these categories (assuming she does not fall into the third, as yet undiscussed category). This discernment is most likely a culturally ingrained reaction, a thought process that most people have inculcated into their perception from a very early age. (Evidence suggests there's also innate discernment; studies with babies have shown differences in infants' reactions to different (in symmetry/proportion) faces.) How people react to a cute woman versus a pretty woman depends upon circumstances--and, most likely, individual preferences and experiences.

What qualities constitute these first two varieties of beauty?

Cute is that version of beauty that is approachable, youthful (of course, all beauty has a heavy youth bias), perhaps even babyish. Cute, due to its approachability, shows up a lot in TV commercials.

Pretty is something more classical, a more idealized beauty than Cute--one that is nevertheless somewhat commonplace. Or perhaps its better to say Pretty is not rare; we see Pretty all the time, every day, even as we highly value it in the world around us. Beauty queens, high school homecoming queens, girls who work as greeters in restaurants and other businesses--you see these typical examples of the Pretty type all the time, all around you.

And the third category? What is the proper term for that third variety of beauty? Indeed, what is that third variety of beauty? How does it differ from Cute and Pretty?

For a long time, I used the term "gorgeous" as the descriptor for this class of beauty--but mostly as a mental placeholder, since I knew that "gorgeous" is not the right term for this third variety. ("Gorgeous" does more to describe the viewer's reaction to the beautiful person; it does not really address what that person's beauty is.) The third variety of beauty, as can be gleaned from the use of the term gorgeous, is more superficially striking than Cute or Pretty; these beauties are often some somewhat exotic. One can fairly characterize this third class of beauty as rarer than the other two; it is the type of beauty that one typically sees in models, especially the more famous and sought after models (the somewhat ridiculous term "supermodel" is often apt).

It was that connection to modeling and fashion that led me to the best label for this third variety of beauty: "Glamorous." Note that Glamorous derives from glamor (or glamour), the old name for a magical spell. This is most apt, as Glamorous beauty is the most spell-casting of the three--a striking, forceful, perhaps even mesmerizing kind of beauty that almost demands attention, and often leads to its avatars being placed upon a pedestal.

That rare and elevated character of Glamorous beauty probably creates much of the inclination towards seeing different varieties of beauty as steps on a hierarchical ladder; i.e., Glamorous lives at the top of the ranks above Pretty, which is itself a step above Cute. However, this thought model does not reflect reality particularly well. As noted above, individual reactions to different types of beauty differ widely; the relative approachability of the Cute person may make her more valued in the eyes of some individuals, who at the same time may see the lofty nature of the Glamorous one to be too unreachable for his or her tastes. Bad experiences in the past with a Pretty type may lead an individual to devalue others of the same type versus those who fall into the other two categories. Other scenarios can be imagined which would switch the relative rankings of any of the three varieties up or down the ladder according to an individual's personal preferences.

Thus, it is best to view the three varieties of beauty as co-equal in the eyes of the world at large. A chart may help visually define the relationships between the beauty types:

Some notes about the beauty chart:

The three varieties of beauty can be seen as a subset of the beauty class as a whole. As in any Venn diagram, it is possible--indeed, with beauty (and human variability) it is a certainty--that some parts of the interior sets will overlap. The upshot of this is (in practical terms) that there are some people out there who are both Cute and Pretty, Cute and Glamorous, Pretty and Glamorous. The very center of the diagram marks those lucky few who--through some remarkable combination of genes and the observer's biases--present (to some extent) all three of the varieties in their persons. I placed Kate Upton there in the center, since she seems to be today's foremost exemplar of all the varieties of beauty rolled into one person.

Note too that the overall set, Beauty, contains not just the three standard varieties but also some subset(s) that fall outside of any of the standard categories; within these bounds you would find those relatively rare birds who embody unconventional beauty (but still meet with the approval of wide swaths of the population), and perhaps those other outliers mentioned above (those who are declared to be beautiful in the service of iconoclasm--maybe even those individuals who make themselves attractive to others not by physical perfection, but through sheer dint of will and personality).

Finally, note that the placement of the categories (Cute and Pretty above, Glamorous below) is arbitrary--the chart can be rotated any number of degrees around its centerpoint and still be representative.

In conclusion, it may be best to recognize one particularly important implication of this intellectual model for beauty: while some of us may be condemned to a lesser status for possessing in our persons little to no physical beauty at all, those who do have one form of beauty or another are not destined to a position inferior to other beautiful people. In other words, if you're Cute, you're not doomed to a lesser life than a Glamorous type. Nor, if you're Pretty, are you necessarily better than a Cute person. Different strokes for different folks--that tends to be the order of things, even within a subset of the general such as beauty.