I learned how to count from ‘Count von Count’ on Sesame Street. But even though he was obviously a vampire, and conceivably a dangerous person, he never taught me about the dangers of counting. I had to learn that on my own, much later.
My dad used to say to me, “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”
My family didn’t have any chickens, or any fertilized eggs from which chickens might hatch, but that was still one of my dad’s favorite expressions. And despite my lack of familiarity with the hatching or non-hatching of chickens, I understood what he was trying to tell me.
Don’t count on things turning out the way you hoped. And they certainly haven’t.
In 1963, sociologist William Bruce Cameron wrote a book called “Informal Sociology: A Casual Introduction to Sociological Thinking” which included the following passage:
It would be nice if all of the data which sociologists require could be enumerated, because then we could run them through IBM machines and draw charts as the economists do. However, not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.
Truer words were never spoken. Of course, this was 1963, when true statements were a dime a dozen.
And also, in 1963, we were just starting to count everything possible and run the numbers through IBM machines and draw charts like the economists do. Back in those days, a computer sometimes occupied an entire room.
Now, of course, things are different.
Our computers now occupy massive building complexes called ‘data centers’.
We can only imagine how much counting is being done in a data center like the one shown above.
But does any of this counting actually count?
One thing that could certainly be counted would be our blessings. But data centers do not count blessings. They count the number of friends who liked your most recent social media post, which is not exactly the same thing.
As I was considering what this humor column might address, I knew that I was going to be wrestling with a certain homonym: “count”.
Homonyms are words that are spelled and pronounced identically, but have different meanings. Sometimes, very different meanings. Like, you can have a “run” of good luck, but you can also get a “run” in your stocking, which is sort of the opposite of good luck.
There’s probably no way to count how often the word “count” appears as a homonym is everyday speech.
I can “count” my fingers. (And I occasionally do, especially after slicing vegetables.)
But my fingers also “count”. They have importance. They do valuable work. Typing this column for example.
These days, it seems like more and more things that don’t actually count are getting counted. And the things that actually count are not getting counted, because you simply can’t count them.
You can count your chickens before they hatch (which, as noted, my dad did not recommend doing) but your count might not count, when the final count — the count that ultimately counts — is counted.
That last sentence is a truism. An undoubted or self-evident truth; a statement which is pliantly true. But it doesn’t necessarily address the question: ‘Why are we even counting our chickens?’
Is there a significant difference between having 12 chickens, or 13 chickens? An argument could certainly be made, that 12 unhatched eggs will fit in an egg carton, and 13 eggs won’t. But maybe the 13th egg will hatch anyway, and then we’re right back at where we started.
The same type of question arises when we’re counting our blessings. Is there a significant difference between having 12 blessings, or 13 blessings? (In this case, there’s no issue with the size of the carton.)
And we still need to consider… which blessings “count”… and which don’t?
And also, are we unwisely counting our blessings before they hatch?
So many things the Count never taught me, on Sesame Street…
Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all. You can read more stories on his Substack account.