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The Empirical Strikes Back

Let’s emulate Liberia
with measurements superior;
once more we’ll weigh our cereal
in ounce and pound imperial.

And why not copy Myanmar—
use p.s.i. and ditch the bar?
Farewell to Celsius’s scale,
let Fahrenheit’s degrees prevail.

We’ll mimic, too, the USA,
where inch and foot and yard hold sway.
Re-join our ancient, fabled roots;
swap forty-three for size nine boots.

The metric system’s made us dense,
so let’s use shillings, crowns and pence.
The past returns, what’s old is new,
like passports which again are blue.

First published in the Daily Mail on August 24th, 2022.

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Paul A. Freeman is the author of Rumours of Ophir, a crime novel which was taught in Zimbabwean high schools and has been translated into German. In addition to having two novels, a children’s book and an 18,000-word narrative poem (Robin Hood and Friar Tuck: Zombie Killers!) commercially published, Paul is the author of hundreds of published short stories, poems and articles.


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15 Responses

    • Paul Freeman

      Yep, that turning the clocks back seems odd to people where I live, closer to the tropics, where the hours of daylight don’t vary much during the year.

      Thanks for reading.

      Reply
  1. C.B. Anderson

    A very adroit poem on a subject that has had me puzzled for years. In elementary school they did their best to make us pupils learn the standard (English) units of measurement. But suddenly the metric system became important — nothing to memorize, just divide or multiply by ten. But that system just does not suit the Anglophone ear. Where can I order a pint of beer, and what of that person who, when given an inch, will take a mile? There is an aesthetic quality to the old measurements that the metric system simply cannot match. “I want my pound of flesh” is much better than “I want my half a kilogram of mammalian muscle tissue.” I hope we never get over it, but I guess I’m just a hopeless traditionalist. I’d walk a mile for a Camel.

    Reply
    • Paul Freeman

      The traffic inches along. A person can be pint-sized. We have inch worms, yardsticks to measure by, mile-high clubs, even.

      I wonder how many of the phrases and objects described by empirical units are still known to, or commonly used by our younger generations. Metric was certainly a dumbing-down, mathematically, even if convenient.

      Thanks for reading and for your thoughts, CB.

      Reply
  2. Norma Pain

    Paul, I loved your poem and it is spot-on. I hate metric because it has made me detest cooking, as told in this poem I wrote to get my frustration out:

    Metric Madness
    The metric system fills me with confusion
    With confusion that grows deeper every day
    It gets me agitated, it’s so very complicated
    And it fills me with incredible dismay
    Half my life I’ve spent living serenely
    In a state I would describe as most ethereal
    Then they changed the rules, those conniving callous fools
    And now oh how I’m missing my Imperial

    I have tried my very best to change my thinking
    How to calculate ingredients and such
    From one hundred and fifty gram to a pound and a half of lamb
    But my aging brain can only do so much
    Words cannot describe my utter loathing
    For a system that is alien to my mind
    I get so intimidated, weepy and exasperated
    The powers that be are definitely unkind

    Metric is confusing, how I loathe it
    How I recoil from its supercilious stance
    I don’t care about a decimal, much less stuff infinitesimal
    The word milliliters puts me in a trance
    I know I’m not alone in my objections
    I do believe there’s many of my ilk
    I see faces filled with doubt… seniors trying to figure out
    How many cups are in a litre jug of milk

    Some may say that I am full of paranoia
    That my aging-addled brain has turned to dust
    To the past I may be wedded, that I’m cranky and pig-headed
    And quite possibly too stubborn to adjust
    But perhaps there is a plot to shrink the masses
    And metric will the population shave
    I have come to the conclusion it’s designed to cause confusion
    And to drive us boomers to an early grave!

    Metric makes me shudder, it is ugly
    And despite how hard I try, I cannot change
    I might spend a half an hour, figuring out 10 grams of flour
    The whole process leaves me feeling very strange!
    Ounces, pints and quarts just make me happy
    Inches, feet and yards can make me swoon
    But my brain is sure to wear out, metric makes me tear my hair out
    ‘Twill be so until the sun invades the moon!

    Reply
    • Paul Freeman

      I sympathise entirely, Norma. I think the problem with metric is it’s simplicity takes the challenge out of activities like cooking and also dulls down the imagination when visualising quantities, lengths, temperatures, pressures, etc.

      I’m fortunate in that the nature of my job involves knowing both the metric and the empirical system.

      Thanks for reading and commenting and for posting your poem, Norma.

      Reply
  3. David Watt

    By any yardstick the old measures provided greater appeal than the boringly efficient metric replacements. Paul, I enjoyed this piece, and also the witty title.

    Reply
    • Paul Freeman

      Agreed, David. There’s a whole wealth of history, imagery and turns of phrase attached to empirical measures. We’ve traded in another facet of life for the easy / easier option.

      Thanks for reading.

      Reply

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