I’m a wonk, of sorts. No, I don’t spend time reading policy statements, so not a policy wonk. I think policies should be clear, limiting and individual. No policy should be longer than a sentence or two. The consequence of breaking the policy should be clear and concise, and the effect immediate.
I’m not a science wonk, because I’ve never spent much time with the x’s and the y’s of the math and the terminology that makes up science today is almost incomprehensible to me.
I’m not a political wonk, not tracking polls and delegate counts, almost numb to negative as well as positive ads. Although, here, I must add that I think all of these words, policy, science and politics, are neutral, neither good nor evil, they just are.
I’m just a wonk, i.e., a studious or hardworking person. When we use wonk in terms of policy, science, politics, we fail to mention those of us with an interest in life and all it holds can be wonks too. I like to know. Just know. Stuff. I’ve always liked to know. And not to know a certain thing or fact. I remember my dad asking why I majored in history in college. I told him it was because then I could, with great legitimacy study just anything. Everything.
I love the trivia of a historical moment, or a scientific breakthrough, or a policy footnote, and a biographical notation. And I think, in all the written and verbal noise we are surrounded with today, we’ve forgotten what it means to know. Because we don’t just give facts anymore, we insert adverbs and adjectives that add portent and weight to one side or the other. Since when did knowledge have a side? Since when did knowing something denote superiority over another? Isn’t that the definition of a bully? Isn’t it just enough to continue to grow, to explore, to understand? I am thrilled by each new tidbit of knowing, excited to fill brain cells with information, information maybe never shared, but added, studied, turned over and studied again. So. Just call me a little wonky.