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Bigger is Better

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Edited by Martin Cadwell, Sunday 6 September 2026 at 09:52

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Cadwell NOT Caldwell

Bigger is Better

[ 5 minute read ]

Opinion

So Africa is bigger than we thought, huh?

Apparently the Mercator maps represent Africa as being the same size as Greenland which is in reality about fifteen times smaller. That should deter some day-sailors from trying to sail around the coast of Africa in a weekend. Africa should be taken seriously. From my perspective, I already wouldn't lie down on the ground to sleep in Africa without at least something between me and the ground; something I have done countless times in Europe. I had an officer friend in the RAF Regiment who told me about his training in Belize. Although Belize is far from Africa I think there are similarities in that my friend's story related to one of the soldiers lying down on the jungle floor and then days later finding that larvae were erupting from his arms. Whether this is a true story, now I look at it in hindsight, is highly suspect. In fact, I now realise that it is a fabrication to scare trainees to NOT lie down on jungle floors without some kind of barrier. On a training exercise they would, of course, been scratching their arms and the larvae would not be allowed to erupt before medical attention was administered. In the 'wild' when you are fleeing the enemy or creeping up on them, you can't just stand up and pop over to the medical clinic or field doctor. In any case, the point was made and no doubt well received. My officer friend did say it happened to someone else; always someone else, eh?

The move to represent the size of Africa in two dimensions, as it relates to the size of other countries was almost unanimously voted for by the UN except for one country which voted against it and six abstentions. I shan't name that country that voted against it because their National Security Agency is hot on the tails of independent thinkers, including those outside their own borders. Suffice it to say that 'size matters' and the concept of demonstrating the true size of Africa on two dimensional maps relates to the consideration of investment. There is, I presume, more opportunity for savagery in a big country than a small one. Rapacious desire has more room to develop where there is land that no-one can see from the nearest town. You know; digging a small hole in the Lake District to bury your dead pet will get noticed by the locals or the visiting walkers. Scraping off square miles of the earth's crust to look for ilmenite ore, the source material for making titanium dioxide (the whiteness of paint and toothpaste among other stuff), in Africa won't be noticed by the town dwellers hundreds of miles away. Mineral poachers only have satellites to hide from.

The potential of Africa being a good investment due to its size was the UN's focus, but this was first conceived by the African nations. All they have to do now is make sure corruption is reduced to a manageable level for outside investors to feel comfortable. My understanding is that when diamonds were first found and the locals were employed to dig, the locals stole the rare big ones and handed in the myriad small stones. If I was a treasure hunter I might not need a boat to look for Spanish gold or sunken pirate ships, I might just need to know a bit more African history and speak to the right people in small villages. Yet, surely, I am being prejudiced by snippets of information I have egregiously stitched together to form a flimsy heuristic, which rule of thumb, in the light of day, many people would call out as racism. I wouldn't argue against them. I wouldn't because the one member country in the United Nations that voted against revealing the true size of Africa wants to be shown as more important than Africa, and has in the past been shown as almost as big as Africa on Mercator maps. Jealousy I have no time for and denying an entity any approbation or validation for potential is, in my eyes, just plain wrong. But, I am not considering the new world order when trade significantly shifts from the Global North to Africa. In the development of Africa we have another potentially cheap Asian-type workforce with access to rare earths and modern technology banging on their doors.

I was lucky to be able to ask a PhD graduate about his chosen field of study. It was Romano-Britain, I think. I floated a few layman questions and eventually understood that the reason that after the Romans left Britain the locals went back to their old ways and did away with underfloor heating and building with lime, was because the Romans took with them their ability to organise and specialise in singular tasks. Entering into an agrarian society with organisation could, I suggest, potentially produce a larger entity that could be a considerable threat to the rest of the world, both economically and physically through armed combat. But what do you do? Suppress the African nations? The African?

If we consider that China has a lot of investment across the world in developing countries and other countries want to stymie China's economic takeover effort, we might need to understand that allowing the manifestation of a potential superpower continent is not necessarily in the hands of the Global North. It is organisation that is the key to the opening of an African Pandora's Box. Taking the blindfold from the eyes of the African innovators may be only a few years away if creativity outside of necessity becomes available to a wider population. Reducing poverty in Africa would, no doubt throw up some interesting and novel work-arounds in hostile environments that currently cripple improvement. 

The Global North is indubitably a jealous entity which, I suspect, will be reluctant to hand over any significant control on economics and combat capability and so fairness is, I suspect, coloured by an executive decision to control growth; likewise China and India should be equally alarmed about the potential labour-force of Africa becoming organised, if it is not themselves who are the puppet-masters. Yes, I have just maligned the African and reduced them to being controllable wretches but what do you do? We saw the same in England during the Industrial Revolution when country-folk leading agrarian lifestyles 'upsticked' and handed themselves over to industrialists, future liability to debt and workhouses and even prison. While I have no reason or desire to offer African country workers as being two hundred years behind England, I do feel that a loose comparison to the plight of poor people in the past is a valid one and bears consideration. While many comfortable people bemoan the colonialism of empires past, I might metaphorically stand at their rallies with a placard that says 'See the present and look to the future.'

Perhaps though, the single UN member who voted against showing Africa as having even more potential by dint of its new perceived size is presenting a reality that the rest of the charitable world chooses to ignore simply because they want to share and be fair. Unfortunately, I feel that having an emotional force contribute to decision-making can create a manifestation that has a life of its own and will one day bite the hand of its feeder.

Just like lying down on a Belize jungle floor, any Global North entity is going to want a barrier between it and the tooth and claw of an African jungle. A jungle that is now likely to be considered more interesting than it was previously perceived as being before a new map becomes the standard.

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Pygmalion Effect

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Edited by Martin Cadwell, Monday 8 June 2026 at 14:16

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Cadwell NOT Caldwell

silhouette of a female face in profile Mental Health

What could you be?

[ 7 minute read ] 

I blame the parents (and maybe me)

My neighbour, Jim, such were the difficulties he had, had problems with social interaction and, I suppose, general knowledge on how things work. Things that are obvious to most of us he just didn't seem to understand.

       'Jim, you will have to cut the grass with shears before you use a push-mower on it'. The grass was eighteen inches tall (45cm) and it was wet from recent rain. Even dry, the front roller on the mower would flatten the grass and the cutter would not connect with it.

       'I have!' He hadn't. The grass was eighteen inches tall, and wet. Eventually, he left the grass and, months later, bought a cheap electric hover mower, which he almost never uses. He doesn't have much of a lawn now anyway. The previous residents had a green and manicured lawn.

He also bought a strimmer; to cut the grass growing against the washing line posts. He thought it was a good idea to put the rotating hub of the strimmer right up against the posts. The strimmer line, or cord, inevitably kept snapping. It snapped as soon as the hub got too near the posts. He would pull a bit more line out and then do exactly the same thing, and break it again. What should have taken about three minutes took him over an hour. I knew that nail scissors would have been more effective. I didn't tell him because I know he would have, in his embarrassment, said, 'I know, I used them!' The annoying thing is, the strimmer has a noisy internal combustion engine and he never considered 7am too early to use it for an hour, on and off. 

       'Finally, he has finished!'

       'Oh! No he hasn't'.

One day, I joined him in his garden, to dismantle a shed. He had no clue how to effectively do this and, impatient, I asked if he had a cutting tool of some kind. His competence with a screwdriver was, to my mind, on par with a four year old. He fetched a battery powered hand-held circular saw. When I pointed out where to cut, he, true to form, just jammed the saw against the wood. It stopped. He tried again; it stopped. I asked to have a go and made the cut.

       'Sometimes, it just doesn't work and other times it does,' He said, puzzled. The teeth of the saw have to be introduced to the cut gently and slowly. Even heavy duty cutting equipment has a maximum speed at which it can advance. He had no clue about this. By this time, I was convinced that he was a fool.

A few years went by and a Canadian woman moved in with him. It doesn't matter what Global North nation she comes from; we, in the Global North, all have comparable kinds of background and approaches to life. I suppose, her nationality would only be relevant if she brought a wholly different approach and culture to the story, such as might be found in Global South countries, where I suppose they have a much more practical aspect to their lives; I imagine they make and mend as they go along a bit more than most of the Global North does. Anyway, a woman from a Global North country moved in with him. Her name is Avril.

The post-person delivered a 'Do Not Bend' package addressed to Jim's live-in girlfriend, through my letter-box. I waited for her to leave her home to give it to her. I didn't knock on Jim's and Avril's door to give Avril the package because, when Avril's parents previously visited from Canada, I had occasion to chat with them, and I felt that Jim would not have the social grace to give them a gift, or souvenir of England, so I decided to give them a gift. You can buy souvenirs for yourself but being given a gift from a local has so much more weight, I feel. Jim, I considered, wouldn't think of this. I had been given a published cookbook written by one of my neighbour friends. It was all I had of any worth. It was still in its shrink-wrapped plastic covering; brand new. 

To give this cookbook gift, I knocked on Jim's and Avril's door. Incidentally, Jim thinks it is only his door. Jim answered and I said I wanted to speak to Avril's mum.

       'I will see if she will talk to you.' Weird, I thought but I decided that Jim was just being Jim. She came to the door and opened it wider to talk to me, but not before I saw Jim's leg withdrawing to behind the opening door, which instantly told me he intended to eavesdrop. I was tempted to mention this to Avril's mum, 'Does he always do that?' but pushed the idea away.

       'Here is a gift from our village; a cookbook. My friend wrote it. She lives just up the road, there. If you can't take it to Canada then I am sure that Avril and Jim might be able to use it.' She thanked me and shut the door, nonplussed.

So when the Do Not Bend package addressed to Avril came through my letter box I was certainly not going to make Jim hide behind the door among their coats again. As she left for work: 'Avril, I have something for you.' She, of course, jumped because I inadvertently sprang up from behind a separating hedge; I had been sitting on my doorstep. She thanked me and took the package. Jim followed her out of the garden onto the drive.

       'The delivery person is just lazy and selfish and couldn't be bothered to come to my house', Jim exclaimed.

       'Jim', I said, 'You have a continental style letter box stuck to your wall that won't allow items to get in without being bent'. I took the package from Avril to demonstrate the size of it. I apologised to Avril for just snatching it from her hands. She, of course, smiled and brushed it aside because she recognised that I did not intend to be rude. I gave it back to her and they left in Jim's car.

The Pygmalion Effect

Jim used to allow his spirit to loom over me while I slept. 

       'Who are you and why are you here?'

       'Jim's spirit, I live here, and have done since before you came here.'

What with his seeming inability to successfully and happily interact with the world, I had, after a couple of years decided he was a fool. Something wasn't right. We all have something weird about us. It is no 'biggie'. (What? If we can use the Australian 'no worries', surely we can say 'no biggie'!).  Look at those punctuation marks; four in a row! 

It is really quite hard to ward off wandering spirits. What can you do? You can't grab hold of them and shove them out your front door. They can't hear you speak your native tongue in the human world. Only magic language or the language of your own spirit can converse with them. The trouble is, when we wake up our brains start to focus on real life threats like bears and tigers and things, and we are programmed, through modern interaction in our societies, to use our 'mother' tongue.

Jim never used to go out. He ordered shopping deliveries and never seemed to socialise beyond, I suppose, going to his parents for Sunday dinner. For at least two years, even when Avril moved in, he and Avril wouldn't go out. They went on holiday once or twice; a new thing for Jim, I am sure.

After, I think, four years of Avril living with him, they go out most weekends and even stay away overnight. She, being a school teacher, has many periods in a year during which she does not need to go to a workplace. Jim has a job using a computer. Theoretically, he can work anywhere in the world. They now stay away from home about four or five times a year, for days or weeks at a time. I think they have two holidays a year, somewhere.

Avril saw something in Jim that, as a teacher, I suppose, she felt she could draw out of him. I think she knew that he just needed his hand held a little, and needed to be introduced to new experiences to build his confidence. There is nothing like being loved to build confidence and trust.

The Pygmalion Effect is when individuals tend to perform up to a level that others expect them to perform at. Jim wasn't really aware, I suggest, that I considered him to be incompetent at a lot of things, but he was bothered that I saw him fruitlessly trying to cut his grass; he accused me of being nosy. To his mind, I should never look out of my windows, it seems.

Avril, being a teacher; and perhaps being Canadian is relevant after all, would have had, I think, some training to deal with autism and learning difficulties alike. She, unlike me, can see potential in people that can be nurtured, and knows how to do it. Good Crikeyness! She has some patience!

I miss Jim, the looming zombie that, in my imagination bumped endlessly into the walls in his home and aimlessly bounced off them with no clear thought in his head. I don't think his spirit is troubled anymore. I think he finally trusts someone, and feels safe, and doesn't want to claim a spiritual space.

       'Why are you here? Go away!'

       'Jim, I live here!'

I will tell you why I miss him. I, like most of us, measure myself against the people around me to give myself some idea of how well I am doing. I suppose I have been aware of a local social hierarchy but I have never bothered to subscribe to protocols to secure any position in it. Now that Jim seems comfortable, I cannot help but think the see-saw has tipped the other way. I am, by my thoughts and deeds, a fool.

'The Pygmalion Effect is a tendency named after the protagonist of a Greek myth. Pygmalion was a gifted sculptor who created a statue of a woman so perfect he fell in love with his creation. After Pygmalion desperately prayed to Aphrodite, the Goddess of love, she took pity on him by bringing the statue to life.'  (Josh Kaufman, 2010).

Josh Kaufman, 'The Personal MBA',  Portfolio Penguin, 2010

Josh Kaufman goes on to say that the Pygmalion effect explains why all of our relationships are, in a very real sense, self-fulfilling prophesies. In other words, we benefit from what we put into them.

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Spring

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Edited by Martin Cadwell, Saturday 9 May 2026 at 07:50

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Gone are the Daffodils

Did I see Summer coming?

[ 3 minute read ]

Spring is really exciting for me. I grow things in an expectation that the long and warm Summer days will profit their growth. Gone now is the wait in the dark Winter days. Gone are the clouds that shield the ground from the crazy sun we all know will cook us in just a couple of months. But also gone is the smell of leaf-mould and decay. We get used to those aromas in Autumn. We smell the fungi growing and releasing spores and then it freezes and everything lies still.

Spring gives surprises. The Muntjac deer that leave traces in my garden with their hoof prints where they scraped at the ground seeking roots, stand still with ears flicking this way and that. In my garden I left them acorns to munch on. The squirrels hid them. No matter, I wanted new oak trees, even though my garden is not big enough for even a ten year old one. The deer trim my Euonymus shrubs right back to the branches but they can't reach to the top. I took cuttings a couple of years ago, but the relentless Summers were not kind to me or the cuttings. 

Finally, I am no longer jealous of my next-door-neighbour's poppies. They escaped from my front garden and I have never been able to gather seed from next door. The pods just never seem to mature. This year some of the seeds jumped backwards against the West wind and into a few of my plant-pots. I even brought one of them inside to help it grow, but it scorned me and bolted.

People try to enjoy the warmer weather with a determination that always amuses me. Sunglasses, shorts and bucket hats come out and are worn for a day or so. We all still know that we need to keep moving if we are dressed too scantily and we flip-flop between having our home heating on and off. Still our homes are our refuges. Few of us go out early in the morning and plan to be wearing the same clothes outside a pub at 9pm. Bicycles and their unpracticed riders wobble along cycle-paths and there is indecision on which side to pass and courage to be close to the kerb while remaining on the pavement is lacking. We haven't time to cheerfully call 'Good Morniing!' as we weigh up the movements of other riders.

Now we can see the phases of the moon and have excuses for our weirdness or the oddness of our partners; 'Ah, a full moon! I see.' It means we linger a while before we put a jumper or sweater on; for an hour or two chilled but hoping it will pass; but the clear night skies let the heat escape.

Spring is a season of new and fresh experiences. It is the shaking off of stagnation and decay and the wearing of hope and growth. It is a season in which we make plans and don't know we are doing it.

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