A Matter of Definition

This past year a common pattern for Saturday has been: breakfast, a bit of faffing, then out of the door for my standard 10km run along the canal. I then, red-faced and rather sweaty, buy a paper from the shop at the bottom of my road. When I hand over the money I will be asked if I have been jogging and I will smile say yes and add something like 'got to keep at it' and then leave.

I like this interaction and I am quite happy to describe myself as a jogger. It doesn't bother me at all, yet some people I know get a bit upset in an "I am a runner not a jogger" sort of way. They want to make a distinction of commitment. To them a jogger is someone who runs as part of a mix of keep-fit activities. Their aim is health rather than the run itself, whereas for the runner improved health is merely a by-product. You run because you are absorbed by the whole experience and it brings insights you would not otherwise find. Somehow 'jogger' doesn't convey this sense of purpose. It is not a serious label.

I can understand the sensitivity as we all liked to be defined in a way that matches our internal image. On the other hand a dispassionate observer, looking at me pass, would know nothing of my commitment or purpose; they would see someone moving at a fairly easy pace, someone for whom the word jogger would seem appropriate.

But words are important and their definitions can be contentious. I thought of this when reading the story of a jazz fan wanting a refund because he thought Larry Ochs played contemporary music and not jazz.. In all sorts of ways this is wonderfully bizarre (the idea of people wanting their money back if they didn’t like what they heard would be a hugely subversive change to the normal ticket contract). What sort of health warning could you put on your posters for someone who says:

The jazz purist claimed his doctor had warned it was "psychologically inadvisable" for him to listen to anything that could be mistaken for mere contemporary music.

And what sort of trauma could result from exposure to the wrong kind of performance? It makes no sense but I am amused by the agonizing: “Even if I could listen to Andy Shepherd when he plays with Carla Bley, could I still listen to him when he plays with Joanna McGreggor? Hmmm”. (Actually the answer is probably yes because he is always an inventive, lyrical saxophonist whereas the psychologically fragile man is probably scared of a rumbustious, disintegrating form of free jazz - and Larry Ochs does sound like this)

The funniest thing though is calling-in the police to adjudicate – not the obvious the place for music related problems or any adjudication on arts policy and I can’t believe contemporary music is part of their basic training. It would be like me calling a local park keeper to decide if I was running or jogging.