A Brief History of Bunk (original) (raw)

The familiar word bunk (short for its original form buncombe) has a clear origin and colorful history important to skeptics.

The word bunk traces back to 1820 when the U.S. House of Representatives was debating what would come to be known as the Missouri Compromise, regarding the question of slavery in new territories. After nearly a month of fierce argument, members called for an immediate vote on the matter.

Instead, congressman Felix Walker—who represented Buncombe County, North Carolina (named for Revolutionary War Colonel Edward Buncombe)—rose to speak. He provoked and exasperated colleagues by launching into a lengthy, wearisome oration—not, as he announced, directly to Congress but rather to his constituents back home, “to Buncombe.” He was reportedly shouted down by his angry audience, but the address was later published in a Washington newspaper.

The incident transformed the word buncombe into a synonym for political empty talk, and later—respelled “bunkum”—into a word for “nonsense” of whatever variety.

Wiktionary, like most standard dictionaries, regards the word bunkum and its short form bunk as “U.S. slang” or “English slang.” As such, a problem with bunk is that it is hardly suitable for use where seriousness is called for—such as in scientific or legal writing. Another problem is that it is imprecise: Do you mean to simply say that the referent is “nonsense” or that it is “pseudoscience”? Or—what do you mean to say?

Furthermore, the use of slang may say more about the person making the declaration than about what is being disparaged. For example, it may result in the user being regarded as a hothead. (I think some believe it makes them sound tough, but as one who has put tough guys in jail, I am not impressed by it.)

Derivatives of bunk are also problematical. Wiktionary defines debunk as “to discredit or expose the falsehood of something.” It gives as an example: “The explosion story was thoroughly debunked on National Public Radio in November 1999.” Is that a factual statement or a biased assertion? Wouldn’t it at least be more convincing if instead of “debunked” it read, “examined and thoroughly disproved”?

Worse, however, the statement that something “was debunked” uses what in grammar is termed passive voice, which indicates that the verb is receiving the action. Because there is no subject to perform the action (as with active voice), the statement is unclear as to just who or what did the alleged debunking.

Consider which of the following is more effective: “All this talk about Bigfoot is just a bunch of bunk”; or “Science has never found a specimen of Bigfoot, and many sightings could be explained as upright-standing bears.” The first is a crude, slang expression, too sweeping to convince anyone but another dismisser. However, the second one is evidence-based and offers a plausible explanation for many sightings.

Now, some skeptics refer to themselves as “debunkers,” which is unfortunate. Although thorough investigation may often result in the discrediting of fanciful claims, to call oneself a debunker can imply bias suggesting—rightly or wrongly—that the results are known prior to investigation for certain topics.

During my half-century career, I have often been introduced on radio shows as a “well-known debunker” or the like. I found that many talk show hosts thought they were paying me a compliment, but to many listeners the label signaled something more akin to “closed-minded dismisser.” By avoiding the term, I believe I have improved my credibility and engaged in more successful conversations. As early as 1988 in my book Secrets of the Supernatural, I began to advocate such an approach for skeptics.

The following year (in the Spring 1989 Skeptical Inquirer) brought an article by physicist Al Seckel. Its title presented the well-received theme: “Rather Than Just Debunking, Encourage People to Think.” He emphasized:

The skeptical movement can be an extremely valuable social force if it puts the emphasis on teaching better reasoning skills rather than confining itself simply to debunking erroneous popular notions. Unfortunately the opportunity to use the pseudosciences to teach reasoning skills is too often missed.

Significantly, the great skeptic James Randi (1928–2020) also took up this important cause. As he explained a few years before his death, “I am a debunker, yes, by definition, but I think scientific investigator covers it better.” Randi preferred to be positive rather than negative whenever possible—one of his many qualities we would do well to emulate.

Joe Nickell

Joe Nickell, PhD, is senior research fellow of the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry (CSI) and “Investigative Files” columnist for Skeptical Inquirer. A former stage magician, private investigator, and teacher, he is author of numerous books, including Inquest on the Shroud of Turin (1983), Pen, Ink and Evidence (1990), Unsolved History (1992) and Adventures in Paranormal Investigation (2007). He has appeared in many television documentaries and has been profiled in The New Yorker and on NBC’s Today Show. His personal website is at joenickell.com.

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