Hello Rebels, and welcome back to my life.
There are a lot of things in life that we never question. We spend our entire existence with these things, and never think there’s anything odd about them, because that’s the way it’s always been.
But today I am daring to break trend and tradition. I am opening my eyes, refusing to be one of the sheeple, and questioning something that has never made sense my entire life!
WHY…are weather people called meteorologists?
IT MAKES NO SENSE! THEY STUDY THE WEATHER! NOT METEORS!
Plus, they already took the name, so what are we supposed to call people who study meteors? HUH?
The ramifications are mind-blowing!
I put on my investigative journalist glasses and took the case, which I guess means I was also a P.I.
I knew the answer wouldn’t be easy to find. This mystery had been sitting in plain sight for so long, clearly some long-standing coverup had been put into play.
“Oh. Never mind. The answer’s right here.”
So it turns out that meteorology doesn’t come from the word meteor itself, but it is related to it.
Meteorology comes from the Greek word meteorologia, a treatise on celestial phenomenon.
That comes from the words logia, “treament of,” and “meteoron,” an offshoot of “meteor.”
Meteor apparently used to mean “any atmospheric phenomenon,” which is pretty interesting in itself. I mean, when you were calling basically anything happening in the sky a meteor, it must have been really hard to talk about the weather.
“Welp. Looks like a meteor’s comin’ in.”
*everyone dives for cover*
“Yep. There’s the first rain drops.”
So the origins of meteorology as a word have been solved—you’re welcome humanity—and, as per usual, they reveal a side of human history that I think is pretty important.
Back in the day—even the fairly enlightened day of Ancient Greece—celestial phenomena like shooting stars and the movement of planets were in the same general classification of knowledge as the weather.
Anything happening in the sky was considered to be within the purview of those guys over there who spent their days looking up.
“Well what should we call them?”
“Eh. Let’s call them meteorologists.”
“But that one studies the stars, and that one’s studying rain clouds.”
“You say potato…”
As human knowledge has grown and expanded and grown more granular, we’ve got people in a ton of different fields who are hyper-specialists in those fields.
Take any field, from medicine to astronomy to business to logistics, and you can find people who are absolute experts in one tiny aspect of that field.
To some degree that has taken away the concept of the Renaissance Scholar, the person who knows a lot about a wide variety of fields. I just don’t know that that’s possible any longer with the huge spectrum of current human knowledge.
But it is still possible to know a little about a large number of fields. And using that knowledge, we can know who to reach out to who is a specialist in one particular area of knowledge that we need to tap into.
I think that means that as we continue to advance as a species, and continue to seek new ways to advance as a species, the answer is going to lie more and more in working together and finding ways to relate and coordinate our disparate knowledge of the universe as best as we currently understand it.
And it’s also going to mean that we need to put some faith in the people who have studied a certain field that they probably know what they’re talking about, considering they’ve spent a lot more time studying it than we have.
Thanks for watching, Rebels. An extra special shoutout to my supporters on Patreon, who make all my YouTube videos possible, and I will see you tomorrow. Byyye.