If They Name It, You Can Fear It

The psychology of fear is the means of control

I am a cataclysmic weather event survivor. Minnesota just experienced winter storm "Olive." The hype of the impending doom that Olive was to wreck upon the Midwest had been brewing for several days. Businesses altered their hours or closed, multiple events were canceled, and grocery store shelves quickly emptied because of the fear Olive put into the minds of Midwesterners. I have spent my entire life in Minnesota where we have four distinct seasons, Spring, Mosquito, Fall and Winter that last 2 weeks, 3 weeks, 4 weeks, and 43 weeks respectively. We are currently in this season called "winter." In Minnesota, winter means below freezing temperatures and liquid droplets in the air that fall to the ground as snow.

This phenomenon called "snow" used to come in several varieties. A light snowfall was called a "dusting." A snow and rain mixture was called "sleet." In the days of old, a heavy snowfall with anticipated accumulations of several inches or more carried the moniker of "a winter storm watch." If snowfall was expected to exceed accumulations of 6 inches or more, the storm was dubbed, "a winter storm warning." The "warning" was to warn us that the work to remove the snow will be a backbreaking endeavor. Finally, in days of yore, and to the thrill of children everywhere, a heavy snowfall with excessive winds was called a "blizzard." That was the granddaddy of all winter snow falls in Minnesota that generally included the closing of schools and businesses. With this general naming scheme, for well over 150 years, Minnesotans could understand the weather forecasts and duly prepare for mother nature's sense of humor.

About a decade ago, the Weather Channel started naming winter storms. Now, I am forced to read deep into the forecast to determine if the almighty "Olive" that barreled towards my frozen state was a dusting, a winter advisory, a storm warning, or an all-out blizzard. Because the old snow indications have been replaced by naming the storm, we are now forced to study storm patterns and radar models to determine best course of action. Because in Minnesota, weather reporters now list every weather event from a drizzle to blizzard as apocalyptic event, and the warnings are now gauged in severity by the number of horsemen released.

What is important to note in the naming of weather events is that if they name it, we can fear it. Giving a storm a “sciencey” name, like SE022323 is not sufficient to scare a population. So too was the case with the original Coded-19 name for the scariest virus released upon earth and hundred years. The original name of our recent pandemic was “severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus2” (SARS-CoV-2.) However, that name was far too long and sciencey to have the proper impact on a world's psyche. So, they named the super spreader virus "Covid-19." Because we all know that "going to 11" is one louder than 10, so 19 has to be much scarier number. Actually, 19 stands for coronavirus disease of 2019 because the PC World crowd could not bear the thought of calling our most recent pandemic for what it truly was, the Wuhan flew, as it originated from that province in China.

Personally, I would think the Chinese Communist Party would want the world to know that the bad ass virus came from Wuhan. Kind of like a “big brother” reminder that the world should stay in line or the CCP will release another worldwide pandemic that will cause whimpering governments and the company CEOs to cower in basements while shutting down entire economies. I just hope I get an inkling of the next world-wide pandemic so that I can pre-buy vacation homes in the world's most desirable locations. Next time, I would like to get ahead of the curve so that I can resell those properties to all the silly executives that believed they would be able to work remotely forever and ever in beautiful mountain retreats or on glorious sandy beaches.

So as a reminder to my readers, when the authorities give something a catchy, easy to remember name, they are doing it specifically to have an impact on your psychological faculties. And that impact is to instill fear. If you name it, they will fear it. So as my state hunkered down for winter storm Olive, I tracked the radar patterns to figure out where the best place to go downhill skiing was this weekend. If Olive tracked North, I'd head to Duluth. If she tracks in a more easterly pattern, I’d travel to Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Because when it comes to snow in Minnesota, we can either fear it or we can slap waxy boards to the bottom our feet and conquer it.

The one thing I know, living in the state that loves the frozen sport of hockey, is that in less than six weeks, the snows of Olive will disappear, the trees will bud new leaves, tulips will spring up among our flowerbeds and the Weather Channel will come up with new scary names for the impending tornado season storms. Such is the life in the state formerly known to have the character and fortitude to weather our four distinct seasons. For now, I will sit back with a bunch of Warren Miller videos Here and hope for, in the immortal words of the late Robin Leach, “champagne (powder) wishes and caviar (moguls) dreams.