Green

According to LessWrong, a new parable explores the hazards of linguistic precision. The story unfolds in two dialogues, both centered around one phrase: 'My favorite color is green.' In the first, Alice tells her friend Bob that green is her favorite color. Months pass. Bob, remembering her words, buys Alice a green painting. Alice rejects it—she meant blue, not green. After all, green is a secondary color, and surely her favorite must be primary. When Bob objects that this seems inconsistent with what she originally said, Alice tells him he's overthinking it. The second dialogue is sharper. A woman named Carol says her favorite color is green. A man named Dave immediately critiques her as imprecise. He lectures about color spaces, references rationalist essays on precision, and uses an analogy: if someone asks where you live and you say 'the United States,' that's too vague. Saying 'green' is the same error. Carol points out the analogy doesn't hold. Dave persists. Her reply: 'Actually, I think what I told you is that my favorite color is Portland.' It's a sharp commentary on the tension between rationalist exactitude and human understanding—and a subtle jab at people like Dave, for whom precision becomes a substitute for sense.

Listen to this story

Hear this and more stories in a personalized audio briefing.

Open The Chonkerton