Saturday, February 29, 2020

Name that Disease

Nothing fancy for these scientists, nothing that smacks of marketing or focus groups or a movie tie-in. "We now have a name for the disease and it's COVID-19," World Health Organization Chief Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus told reporters in Geneva. So there was no chance of confusion, he continued: "I'll spell it: C-O-V-I-D hyphen one nine. COVID-19." He broke it down as follows: "co" stands for "corona," "vi" for "virus" and "d" for "disease," while "19" was for the year it was identified. No Coop-V, no Co-Viddy, it's about as utilitarian a name as you can get. 

That's because the folks in charge don't want anything potentially problematic or stigmatizing in the designation. Tedros said the name had been chosen to avoid references to a specific geographical location, animal species or group of people. After all, past experience is littered with catchy names that caught the public's fancy only to unfairly tarnish that to which it was linked. After all, would you rethink your vacation to the Middle East if there was an outbreak of West Nile Virus? Think twice of going hiking out west because of Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever? Or change your diet if there's a surge in Swine Flu or Mad Cow Disease? And let's not even talk about taking a cruise down the Ebola River. 

The same happens with Atlantic hurricanes. The World Meteorological Organization has six lists of names which they rotate through. They work their way through the alphabet in succession with a few exceptions: the list contains no names beginning with Q, U X , Y or Z. That means that every half dozen years you can expect to see a storm named Bill or Emily, or heaven help us if the season is that active, William. They repeat unless a storm is particularly destructive, as they don't want to people to associate the name with the possible severity of the event. In that case they retire that name from the list and add a new variant of the letter. That's why there will never again be a hurricane called Harvey, Camille or Sandy. 

The Weather Channel took a different tack when they started naming winter storms in 2012. It's important to note that their nomenclature is unofficial, and is not endorsed by any government agencies. That's because independent meteorologists say that unlike hurricanes, which are singular well-organized systems, snowstorms are broad and unorganized, causing varying weather conditions from location to location. One region can have blizzard conditions while another may only get rain. So ascribing a unique name and a common outcome to a storm can be misleading. 

Still, TWC, its Weather Underground offspring and NBC parent persist as it's a good marketing gimmick. For a while their list of names was created each year by the Latin Club at Bozeman High School in Bozeman, Montana. As part of a project to encourage more use of the dead language in everyday life, Ms. Shupe's class proposed a list of classical names taken from Greek and Roman culture, mythology and language which led to storms Athena, Brutus and Caesar. Most recently the list was made up of retro names, including Caleb, Mabel and Upton. 

If you want to get in on the act, The Free University of Berlin allows individuals to "Adopt a Vortex." You can pick a High for 299 euros, a Low for 199, with the money going to help fund the school's Meteorological Institute. As of this writing, the next nice day over Berlin will be known as Helge (sponsored by Helge Gutting) and next bout of rain will be known as Yulia (sponsored by Yulia Kozlova). 

So the researchers at the WHO have a dilemma. They have to balance not offending anyone or thing, while at the same time coming up with a catchy moniker that will resonate with the public enough to draw attention. Perhaps they should try TED Fellow Janelle Shane's experiment using a recursive neural net to generate disease names. She seeded it with 3,765 common names for conditions, and generated things you don't want to get. So if the threat of COVID-19 isn't making you wash your hands more often, perhaps you will if you chance catching Fumple Chronosis, Bacterial Fradular Syndrome or Hurtical Electrochondropathy. I for one would hate to come down with Gumpetic Surpical Escesion. Now, that could make me wear a mask.

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford feels fine, at least right now. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.

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