Culture matters. A culture is the style of human interaction. We often learn the ways and byways of society by its style, or feel, not only by explicit instruction. And the feel of culture in Europe slows it down. Europe lags economically behind America because European culture has veered away from practical, individualist roots, at least according to a fascinating Wall Street Journal thinkpiece by Nobel Laureate Edmund S. Phelps. This economist asserts that the virtues of dynamism, of actually taking charge and doing something, do not prevail in Italy, France, and Germany (The Big Three European countries) as much as they do in the U.S. and Canada:

There is evidence from University of Michigan "values surveys" that working-age people in the Continent's Big Three differ somewhat from those in the U.S. and the other comparator countries in the number of them expressing various "values" in the workplace.

The values that might impact dynamism are of special interest here. Relatively few in the Big Three report that they want jobs offering opportunities for achievement (42% in France and 54% in Italy, versus an average of 73% in Canada and the U.S.); chances for initiative in the job (38% in France and 47% in Italy, as against an average of 53% in Canada and the U.S.), and even interesting work (59% in France and Italy, versus an average of 71.5% in Canada and the U.K). Relatively few are keen on taking responsibility, or freedom (57% in Germany and 58% in France as against 61% in the U.S. and 65% in Canada), and relatively few are happy about taking orders (Italy 1.03, of a possible 3.0, and Germany 1.13, as against 1.34 in Canada and 1.47 in the U.S.).

Phelps concludes with a historical perspective:

It was a mistake of the Continental Europeans to think that they expressed the right values--right for them. These values led them to evolve economic models bringing in train a level of economic performance with which most working-age people are now discontented. Perhaps the way out--to go from unsatisfactory performance to high performance--will require not only reform of institutions but also a cultural shift that returns Europe to the philosophical roots that put it on the map to begin with.

Stevan Kinsella is one of the more interesting thinkers in the libertarian movement. I disagree with him often, but I usually learn something. And about our recent debates (here and on mises.org) regarding intellectual property (IP) he may indeed be right. I've not yet settled my mind on this subject. I'll have to give this issue more thought.

But there's one type of intellectual property that I have a lot to say about: names. Proper names. He made fun of my Wirkman on the Mises Blog. I thought it was a pseudonym (and they bug me), he later explained in the commentary on this blog. Name-changes also bug me, he elaborated. Hey, I'm used to it. My friends don't much like Wirkman, either. The simple fact that it has been part of my public presence (embedded in those initials TWV for nearly 20 years, for example) doesn't matter to them. They know me as Timothy.

Except, of course, that they don't.

Here's the main deal about this name, Timothy.

Say I introduce myself to a man. I call myself Timothy. And only one in ten men will use my name. Without prompting, they'll call me Tim.

With women, this is about half and half. Half of women, or perhaps a few more, when prompted with Timothy will respond with Timothy. To the rest I'm automatically given (and without asking permission) the name Tim.

So usually I give up. I'm Tim to people I meet. I even introduce myself as such, especially in business. It's just not worth a struggle with every man I meet. It is hard to go up against an in-grained bigotry.

To Finns and some others I've pushed the Finnish version: Timo. That's a lark. It's certainly preferable to me than Tim. It more accurately echoes the Greek origin of the word: honor.

But the point is, by common practice in American manners, I am not allowed my given, Christian name, the name my parents gave me. My use of it for writing became a pen name, a pseudonym, without my intention. All because people have their preferences, and Timothy bugs them.

That it doesn't bug me bugs them, too.

It is not manly enough a name, I gather. It implies weakness. And when I'm firmly shaking another man's hand, this man doesn't want to say Timothy, he wants to say something shorter, harder.

This is, you guessed, sexual politics. The positioning of people in the social environment according, as some theorists would have it, to notions of gender (by which they mean the social layers constructed around the natural division of sex).

I loathe the bulk of this aspect of social life. I loathe many of the prejudices built into our culture, whether passed on by tradition or arising out of early biases latched onto in childhood. I do so because some of these gender biases have deeply affected the course of my life.

Because of biases I picked up as a child, picked up as implied from my parents, from my church, from my teachers, from my fellow students, I accepted for too long something that had disastrous impact on me. I accepted the idea that it was sissy for a boy to study piano. And, so in my childhood I had nothing to do with music for about ten years.

This may mean nothing to people who listen to rock. Or country. After all, a late bloomer can easily make it in pop music. But my earliest inclinations, as well as all later ones, were to the fine arts, especially in music. In classical music skills need early development, for a career. By the time I took up the piano, and especially by the time I discovered Grieg, Haydn, Stravinsky, et al., there was no real hope for me to become any kind of respectable musician.

So my attitude towards others' dislike of Timothy (and hey: it is a deep aversion, I can feel it, it's as strong or stronger than Mr. Kinsella's aversion to name changes and noms de plume) is one of cynical defiance.

How so? It occured to me some time ago that I had been naive to use Timothy. I had simply thought it was my name. But it was not. According to your average American, at least American male, it was definitely not. It was my pretentious nom de plume. My real name was Tim, of course, not Timothy.

So, I later realized, if the name I was known by beyond my immediate social world had been a pen name all along, then why not choose something that would at once annoy others with its alien nature, but somehow, at the same time, conform to their sense of masculinity? So I went with that other name, Wirkman. In writing.

So I should forgive Mr. Kinsella his sleight. After all, I am at war with much of the world on a cultural level. I despise values expressed regularly in society, values that most people never even think about. I uphold other values that seem foreign to Americans, especially those of a conservative temper.

And in war, respect goes begging. This is simply the way of the world.

Still, respect is the hallmark of a peaceful society. Calling a person by the name he (or she) prefers, that's a sign of respect.

And since respect for individuals is at the heart of the libertarian idea, I do expect libertarians to be a little more sympathetic to my switch.

Still, Timothy is a lost cause. Only a few people use it. Call me Timo. Or Wirkman.

Or if you know me from the past, in the flesh, Tim will have to do. For most of you.

But you might want to give respect a chance.