Piscator's days could be severely numbered according to a recent article (Lancet 2008;371:1321–2). Research from the University of Cambridge advocates the ditching of medical terms derived from the Latin and Greek. So this column henceforth would be written by Fisherwoman, with all its connotations of a foul-mouthed, foul-smelling, aged hag – fish knife and fish entrails to hand. Okay, okay, not so different from reality but favete linguis on this one please. The article quite rightly highlights the confusion which can arise from the use Latin and Greek, particularly in the fraught and highly charged atmosphere of contemporary medicine. Nor is it taking account of the fact that English – let alone Latin or Greek – is not the mother tongue of many patients and NHS professionals, and that is just in Wales. Schooled in Latin myself, which immediately dates me and my education as antediluvian (motto of the alma mater being Veritas), it was taught as a prerequisite for entry into medical school, though undoubtedly it is very useful in the study of languages in general. However, we are all more than aware of the linguistic misunderstanding that can arise from inter and intra, ante and anti and particularly hyper and hypo. Many is the time I am sure we have gone to great lengths to correct the interpretation of results for thyroid function tests recited over the phone and wrongly recorded as diagnostic of hyper- or hypothyroidism. Obviously, the situation is even more critical in the discussion of hyper- or hypoglycaemia, with all the attendant consequences. The author points to the steps taken by other high-risk professions – as in the aviation industry – to minimize linguistic confusion (Alpha Brava Charlie for ABC, as in ATP-Binding Cassette, anyone?) and asserts that it is the surviving rump of academic snobbery that keeps this linguistic anomaly alive. I am hoping it is more a case of festina lente in respect of implementing the recommendations. Piscator (or Fisherwoman) would be interested to hear of the opinions of the readership.

Or is English now just going the way of Latin? According to a recent article we will all be speaking Panglish soon (New Scientist 2008;2649:28–32), if we have not already fallen foul of Franglais on excursions to the other side of La Manche. Panglish is derived from Pan English and reflects the fact that an increasing global population now have English as their second language – by 2020 there will apparently be two billion speakers. It is a simplified form of English based on loose groupings of local dialects and English-based languages, which are used by non-native speakers to communicate. Words predicted to rapidly morph include ‘the’, a definite article, which is already rather an endangered species and which will change to ‘ze’ – not much of a surprise that one. Perhaps of more worry to the linguistic purists is the phrase ‘he talks’ becoming ‘he talk’. This surprisingly reflects what happened to Latin; in AD 300 an offshoot ‘vulgar Latin’ was spoken by the proletariat with its own grammar, vocabulary and pronunciation. It further fragmented over the following 500 years to evolve into the forerunners of the romance languages of French, Spanish and Italian – so a far more scary prospect for the copy editor than ‘eats shoots and leaves’.

That is, of course, if we are still indulging in face-to-face verbal discourse. While the benefits of mobile instant communication are legion, the unsuspected downside of being permanently ‘plugged in’ have been highlighted (JAMA 2008;299:1179–81). There has been an exponential progress in communication over the last 20 years, which permits virtually instantaneous transfer of voice, text and images from almost any location on earth to another. What a difference that would have made in the expansionist phase of the Roman Empire? In health care, advances in communication have improved efficiency, with medical staff able to check on laboratory results quickly and from any location and, if a recent episode of ER is anything to go by, they can look forward to instant text messaging for the relay of results. The concerns relate to dysfunctional usage, which is of possible concern to health-care professionals. The dangers of driving while phoning are already known but apparently cyclists also indulge in this dangerous activity. There is also evidence of adoption of antisocial behaviour, loss of productivity in the workplace if the access to the internet is not controlled and erosion of the boundaries between working life and home if being contactable at all times is a condition of the job contract.

The theme is further explored in the context of over-usage of the internet and the mobile phone as features of an addiction (Am J Psychiatry 2008;165:306–7). Certainly, there can be classical psychiatric features of excessive use, symptoms of withdrawal as manifest by anger and tension when the computer is inaccessible, development of tolerance in the need for better hardware and software and finally negative repercussions in respect of antisocial behaviour. South Korea leads the world in terms of morbidity and mortality related to internet usage, with China following hard on its heels. Legislation has been introduced in China discouraging more than 3 hours of daily computer game use. Sadly, Piscator had to draw on more than her statutory 3 hours to bring you this.