If there’s an idiosyncrasy, there’s an anthropologist tracking it. That’s Researchers Law. There are no limits in that world; everyone and everything qualifies for the slot machine, from the handling of cutlery by southpaws vis-à-vis right-handed people to lovers of ducks but not swans; individuals who choose wire coat hangers over wooden ones; and women who refuse to let charcoal be included in their fifty shades of grey.
Now, with the global tribe of correspondents who like to send their smoke signals over the Net increasing by the nanosecond, it’s not surprising that researchers are working around the world—and the clock—to track the habits and corresponding style of mailiacs.
I’ve just heard of researchers at two Scottish universities who have identified patterns of emailing behaviour that correspond almost exactly with the habits of 15 varieties of birds. Examples include, and I quote, the Caterwauling Peacock, who ‘sends broadcasts emails to all and sundry, claiming that people need to know when actually they are really just grandstanding’, the Back-Covering Emu, who ‘sends emails in order to be able to prove, at a later date, that the information was passed on’, and the Echoing Mynah, who ‘acknowledges every single email’. The researchers have also identified the Boorish Parrot, a person who ‘sends abusive or inappropriate emails and fails to understand why others get upset by them’. I’m not sure if tweeples are included in the study but considering that Twitter-fans believe that one 140-character missive size fits all, we could probably list them as Tweetering Bluebirds.
While the Scottish researchers have limited their study to emailers, I feel their findings could just well be used to identify people in the real world; who may or may not use email as their primary communication tool. Don’t we all have at least one ‘Pesky Crow’ acquaintance, who shows up uninvited and insists on saying his piece irrespective of our mood or level of interest? I can certainly identify a ‘Hoarding Magpie’ relative who stores dozens of paper bags/boxes/tins/old wrapping paper because “they’re bound to come in handy sooner or later”, as well as a ‘Compulsive Woodpecker’ of a neighbour, who can’t resist dropping in or calling at all hours of the day or night.
Most social circles have at least one or two ‘Caterwauling Peacocks’, who come into a party with anecdotes which they try to pass off as useful information but are actually blatant self-promotion. And most office employees will recognise the ‘Hibernating Poorwill’ and ‘Incommunicado Ostrich’ who are never to be found when there’s work to be done or just refuse to step up or speak up in times of crises. The ‘Echolalia Mockingbird’ would be the person who used to send those dreadful chain-letter postcards in the olden days (when people still put pen to paper) and now forwards online petitions, done-to-death jokes and anything else that takes her fancy.
In the emailing world, the Scottish researchers have given top credit to the Robin, who, apparently, does not allow email to dictate how they communicate but instead takes the time to speak to people whenever possible. This bird is reportedly the favourite among all the birds. I wonder where pontificating columnists would fit.
shampa@newindianexpress.com
