Doubled-up finance terms

One of those little things that you hear all the time, particularly if you work anywhere near contracts, finance or lawyers, are phrases such as:

  • “Null and void.”
  • “Will and testament.”
  • “Goods and chattels.”
  • “Breaking and entering.”
  • “Fit and proper.”

I see them all the time because of all the finance datamapping I do in insurance, but where do they actually come from?

Well, as with quite a lot of weird things in Britain, you can blame 1066.

After the Norman Conquest, England ended up with a slightly odd language problem. Most ordinary people continued to speak English, while the new ruling classes spoke Norman French, and a lot of official and legal writing was done in Latin. English law therefore spent centuries operating with English, French and Latin rubbing shoulders with each other.

One solution was wonderfully practical: use both words.

So rather than risk somebody not understanding the technical French or Latin term, lawyers would pair it with an English equivalent, or with another commonly understood term.

For example, “goods and chattels” combines the English “goods” with the French-derived “chattels”. “Will and testament” combines the Old English “will” with the Latin-derived “testament”.

“Null and void” is slightly different, and is a nice example of why the history is more complicated than simply English word + French word. “Null” comes from Latin, while “void” came through French. So it is still a product of that multilingual legal world, just not quite the neat example I originally thought it was.

These are known as legal doublets, and occasionally you even get triplets: three words piled together to make absolutely, definitely, completely sure that nobody can complain they misunderstood you.

Nowadays the original language problem has mainly disappeared, but the phrases stayed.

In fact, legal reformers have pointed out that many of them are now basically redundant. Everybody understands what “chattels” means in the relevant legal context, so we no longer need “goods” sitting next to it as a translation. But lawyers are understandably reluctant to remove wording that has survived hundreds of years of court cases and is universally understood.

Which is why, nearly a thousand years after William the Conqueror turned up, I’m still looking at a modern-day insurance contract completed on the web and seeing “Null and void” as a status option.

Not Praising contractors in a corporate environment

Okay, this is an odd opinion, but I have a justification for it.

I do not believe that contractors and consultants, such as myself, should receive public praise inside a client’s organisation.

There are lots and lots of reasons for this, but the formal one comes from a practice that used to exist in the Royal Welch Fusiliers around the time of the First World War. You can read about it in Robert Graves’ Good-Bye to All That.

It goes roughly like this.

The regiment regarded medals and commendations as things that were primarily useful to career soldiers. These were people who were in the Army regardless of whether there was a war on, and medals could affect promotion, responsibility and their future career.

If you were only in the army for the duration of the war, then such things were of far less use. You weren’t in it long term, so the recognition was better used on somebody who could actually benefit from it afterwards.

This translates neatly to my view of a corporate environment.

A contractor is hired to do a job, and nowadays that is normally quite strictly defined. You have a Statement of Work and deliverables that you are expected to complete.

You have also had a fairly significant form of acknowledgement already: you have been paid.

By and large, contractors are paid slightly more than permanent members of staff because they don’t have the same job security, benefits, career progression, etc etc.

So giving a contractor a commendation or some other public display of thanks is, to my mind, largely a waste.

It is better to keep those things for the permanent members of staff who have put in the extra effort, because that recognition can be used in their year-end reviews, promotions and future career development. It actually has value to them.

That’s the big formal reason.

But there are supplemental reasons.

It removes any resentment that permanent staff might feel. Why should a contractor be congratulated publicly when the permanent staff around them have worked just as hard, particularly when the contractor is probably being paid more?

From a contractor’s point of view, particularly in the UK, it can also be useful to keep the relationship clearly professional and contractual rather than becoming too embedded in the organisation. You are there to do a solid job and deliver what you were hired for. You don’t particularly need the personal attention. 1

Practically, public praise is not usually much use to you anyway. The people who hire you know whether you’ve done a good job because you are reporting to them. If they think you’ve done a good enough job to hire you again, that’s probably the best commendation a contractor can get.

I know people will say that it’s simply nice to show acknowledgement, and they’re right.

But there are better places for that acknowledgement to go.

Give it to your permies.

  1. Though, to be honest, it is rather nice.[↩]

Corporate term: “Productive bubble”

Definition

This is a financial term for a situation where a new thing becomes very popular, is hyped up far too far, generates a lot of money, and then when the hype bubble bursts, it crashes in value.

However, it differs from a normal bubble in that the fundamental core of the “thing” in question actually has a lot of real value, and the crash leaves something useful behind in terms of infrastructure and lessons learned.

Explanation

This is a relatively new phrase to me, although apparently it has been around for a while.

Of the times it has happened before, the one that obviously leaps to mind is the dot-com bubble, although it has happened in other sectors as well. A lot of railway companies had major crashes during the early days of commuter trains.

Basically, it means everyone gets really, really overexcited about a new technology and jumps on the bandwagon. But there is not enough money in the market for everybody to make all the money they want, and a lot of the people who are either late to it, or simply greedy and stupid, will lose out.

But the underlying value of the technology or thing is still valid. It will come back, but it will come back in a more measured way, reasonably priced and with more reasonable growth.

This is obviously aimed at the current AI market, although, in a very geeky way, it reminded me far more of JavaScript in websites than anything else.

I can remember everyone coding lots and lots of JavaScript on websites, putting JavaScript on everything, and then it suddenly becoming massively unpopular and everyone removing it. Now we are back to JavaScript for everything.

I think this is a valid expectation we are going to have to deal with for AI, and there will be a period of adjustment while the true value is established.

Disclaimer: As always these posts are not aimed at anyone client or employer and are just my personal observations over a lifetime of dealing with both management and frontline associates.

Fencing at Haverstock: A true thirdplace

Fencing is both a very modern and a very traditional sport, and in the way that we live and work now, it is also a true third-place activity.

Let me explain.

First, let’s split this into two parts. Part one is a review of Haverstock Fencing Club.

Haverstock is a London fencing club. I have been a member, on and off, for decades. My first round of fencing was about 30 years ago with a 15 year gap, and now I have come back to it as an old fart.

It is an excellent place to go fencing. It has a wide diversity of people and a very friendly atmosphere. It has always had excellent coaches, and it is good value for money. The current price is about £90 a month, which gives you three nights a week plus individual lessons, which to me beats the snot out of any gym.

The format varies through the week. Tuesday is fight night, where they run a small competition, which is very, very hard work. Wednesday and Saturday are more free fencing. Thursday is more tutorial and tactical fencing, where you go through scenarios and learn how to become a better fencer.

Different people come on different nights, but there is always a wide group of people there.

The club is held in a school sports hall up near chalk farm. And due to its friendly nature, you quickly get to know everybody by name. There is plenty of encouragement if you want to grow, improve, and make your fencing better, but if you just want to turn up and have a fight once a week for some fitness, you can just do that.

It has active WhatsApp chats, it is involved in the competition scene, and in many ways it is a very traditional club because it does a traditional sport.

But it is also a very modern club. Memberships, club activities, and bookings are all handled online. All the administrative stuff is quick and easy.

So, as a fencing club, Haverstock is easy to recommend. It is friendly, well run, good value, and has excellent coaching.

But that isn’t really the most interesting thing about it.

The reason I wanted to write about Haverstock is that it is also something increasingly rare: a genuinely good third place.  For those who don’t know, a third place is somewhere you go to be social and do something that isn’t work and isn’t home.

Fencing does that, and Haverstock does it very well.

Third places are vitally important for society. They’re also very, very good for your mental health because they’re where you go to let off steam, talk and meet new people, and simply spend time somewhere that isn’t part of your work or home life.

They’re genuinely under threat at the moment. Everything from pubs closing to other activities becoming places where you are constantly nickel-and-dimed, with every part of the experience designed to get a little more money out of you.

Fencing, and Haverstock in particular, isn’t like that.

It is a place where you can be challenged or relaxed depending on what you want to get out of fencing. You can take it seriously, compete and try to improve, or you can simply go fence some people and enjoy yourself.

I don’t spend as much time there as I should, mostly because I come home after a 12-hour day and just go to sleep. But I love the fact that it is there.

If anybody of almost any age wants to take up something new, and I really do mean almost any age, from seven to seventy, fencing is worth taking up

And take it up at Haverstock.

Neurospicy symptoms versus disability

I was just listening to a radio programme that had medical professionals talking about ADHD. They were talking about the large increase in the number of people identified as having ADHD, and thus a large increase in the number of people claiming disability because of it and similar neurodiversity conditions.

Putting aside the many issues around whether this is because there are genuinely more Neurospicy people or if we simply never identified it properly before, one of the medical professionals made a strong point about symptoms versus disability.

They said that, with any non-neurotypical person, one of the key things they are now looking at is whether someone with symptoms of a neurodiverse condition is actually suffering a disability, rather than simply looking at how severe their symptoms are.

This relates to me personally, and is the reason for this blog post on what could be considered quite a contentious subject.

I am someone who has quite severe dyslexia. I couldn’t spell my own name until I was about ten, but once I learned to embrace it, it has never really been a disability to me. I have all the symptoms, but I simply work around them.

Indeed, in my areas of work, dyslexia can positively be an advantage. The help it gives me with analysis and large-scale problem solving is huge. For the bits where it causes me problems, I have spell checkers and other tools to deal with them.

So, even though my symptoms might compare badly with someone else’s, the actual disability they cause me is effectively nil. In some circumstances, I would even say the effect is positive.

And that is apparently where one of the key issues lies.

You can’t necessarily treat someone as disabled simply because they have a particular condition. Two people can have the same condition but experience it completely differently. Worse, from a medical or government point of view, the strength of someone’s symptoms does not necessarily denote the level of disability.

Some people might struggle hugely with a neurodiverse condition and find that it ruins their life. Another person with more severe symptoms from the same condition might find aspects of it an advantage and embrace it completely.

So how on earth, as a society, do we determine who genuinely needs help versus who is taking advantage of a disability label because it provides an easier route through something?

I can only speak personally about dyslexia, but I have met people with far milder versions of it than my own who use it as an excuse simply not to do things.

The way the medical professional put it on the radio really highlighted something I had not properly considered before: even the severity of the symptoms does not necessarily denote the severity of the disability that being neurospicy might cause.

One of the core factors in how severely people experience the disability caused by their neurodiversity may be whether they consider it an affliction or simply part of themselves.

I learned this the hard way.

I was taught very early on that dyslexia was to be considered an affliction, and my contact with government agencies reinforced the idea that it was a disability. You could get free audiobooks if you were dyslexic. You could have someone write your exam paper for you if you were dyslexic.

In my case, that mindset was changed by one simple comment from my father, which again shows how profound an effect our parents can have on us.

A friend of mine was having someone write out their GCSE paper for them, and I asked about doing the same thing.

My father simply said:

“Is someone going to write out your paperwork for you for the rest of your life?”

That simple statement made something click in my brain.

Dyslexia stopped being something I had to battle and became simply a part of me that I would have to deal with for the rest of my life. I embraced it, worked around it, and ultimately found ways in which it worked for me.

But if you don’t see it like that, and instead see it as a constant affliction, like a missing limb or a missing sense, then I can understand how it could feel very different.

Perhaps that is part of the difficulty with neurodiversity and disability. The condition, the symptoms and the disability are not necessarily the same thing.