Building your own panel of advisors is a simple technique to expand your perspectives and guide yourself through tough decisions. Think of people whose judgement and values you respect, add them to your mental panel, and when faced with a dilemma, ask, "What would you do?"

While a real panel of advisors is invaluable, an imaginary panel has advantages: it's not limited to people you can call, and it requires no one else's time.

Your panel can include your mum, Uncle Jim, your best friend, or your high school science teacher. But why stop there? You could invite Taylor Swift, Marcus Aurelius, Eleanor Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln, or the Buddha—famous figures whose qualities and wisdom inspire you.

Diversity is key to your panel's success, as it brings a broader range of perspectives. Uncle Jim would likely approach a problem very differently from the Buddha, and you can access both viewpoints simply by considering how each might respond.

It's curious how we can get more diverse perspectives by ourselves simply by adopting the view or mindset of someone else (as we understand them). In this way, it's rather like De Bono's 6 Thinking Hats technique. And it reminds me of my favourite research results where people generated more ideas when prompted to ideate as if they were a creative person.

Benjamin Franklin regularly sought to emulate his role models, as in his 13th virtue: "Humility: Imitate Jesus and Socrates." Similarly, Napoleon Hill described meeting with "Invisible Counselors" in Think and Grow Rich to gain insights from imagined mentors. I can't remember where I first came across this strategy but I love to put it into action.

Related Ideas to Building Your Own Panel of Advisors

Build Your Panel of Advisors to Ask for Advice

An eponym is a word named after somebody or someplace.

An eponym, almost by definition, comes with a story, making them some of the most intriguing words. Knowing what an eponym is also allows you to use the word eponymous, which is always a good way to sound smart.

Some of my favourite eponyms are now commonplace products that took the inventor's name. Some examples:

The Rubik's cube is an invention by Hungarian architecture professor Ernő Rubik. The cube has the fascinating property of being a solid object that's also fluid.

This year (2024), the Rubik's Cube turned 50, celebrating around half a billion cube sales, scores of speed-cubing championships, and documentaries. When Rubik first invented the cube, he wasn't sure it was solvable and only managed it for the first time several months after creating it.

In 2020, Rubik told the story of the cube in his book, Cubed: The Puzzle of Us All.

The fabulously named jacuzzi, or more generally the hot tub, is named after the Italian Jacuzzi family. The seven brothers of the family—there were also six daughters—trained to become engineers, making plane propellers, irrigation systems and pumps before one of the brothers created a homemade bath to help his two-year-old son who was suffering from rheumatoid arthritis. The rest, as they say, is history.

Saskia Solomon tells some of the brothers' story, which includes the court case Jacuzzi vs Jacuzzi, and the invention of the jacuzzi in the 2023 New York Times article, The Frothy Saga of the Jacuzzi Family.

After so long as what seems the most basic of foods, it was remarkable for me to learn that the humble sandwich was named after a person: John Montague, the 4th Earl of Sandwich. Though he probably spent most of his time in London, the title itself is associated with the small town of Sandwich in Kent, in Southeast England.

The story goes that the Earl liked playing cards and wanted food he could eat without having to leave his game and that wouldn't give him sticky fingers that would damage the cards. Incarnations of open sandwiches appeared much earlier elsewhere. For example, the trencher—something I had to look up when reading Game of Thrones—involved serving food on top of old bread as a sort of plate. But it took the Earl's dedication to card playing, or at least desk work, to take the next step many years later.

László Bíró was a Hungarian-Argentine inventor who created the first truly successful ballpoint pen. In the US, the BiC is more common, an eponym this time from Marcel Bich.

It's said that Lázló experienced his fountain pen leaking from heat—fountain pens being very common before the ballpoint—and was inspired by a printing press that used a cylinder to spread the ink. All it needed was to go in all directions. Enter the ballpoint.

While the invention seems obvious in hindsight, perfecting it for robust, commercial use was challenging. For example, finding suitable ink for the tiny ball bearing to spread, which doesn't leak or clog and isn't overly affected by heat. Lázló teamed up with an aviation company—who use a lot of ball bearings—which also provided a great use case of finding a pen that wouldn't leak from the air pressure changes in planes. Later, BiC licenced the technology from Biro. A Bic Cristal® Ballpoint pen is part of the collection at the MoMA.

I only learned that silhouette was an eponym while preparing this sketch, but it's perhaps the best of all.

Étienne de Silhouette, a French government finance official tasked with curbing a French deficit in the 1700s, unwittingly gave his name to the classic black-on-white simple outline image of a person. His severe frugal policies of taxes, curbing royal spending and even melting down gold and silverware earned him the reputation of doing things cheaply. Hence, a cheap method of creating a portrait, cutting out black paper and laying it on a white background, became known as a silhouette.

Nearly everyone will recognise the fuel that Rudolf Diesel gave his name to and his diesel engine. Diesel created a breakthrough engine that was more efficient than typical steam engines while being smaller and weighing less.

Curiously, I learned that Diesel died in mysterious circumstances, disappearing on a journey across the English Channel in 1913.

An excellent episode of the 99% Invisible podcast featuring Helen Zaltzman of the Allusionist raised several interesting questions about eponyms I hadn't considered. Here are a few to think about:

Eponyms are common in medicine, for example, when we name a disease or condition after those playing a part in the discovery. However, the name, for example, Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, tells a medical practitioner very little about the disease compared to a name that relates to the symptoms of the sufferer or the cause. Should examples like these be replaced with more practical names?

Eponyms almost always have a way of oversimplifying a story, often wrapping up complex histories with the names of white males. For example, rarely are products invented or diseases identified solely through the actions of one person. Yet an eponym chooses one, or some people, at the expense of others.

Eponyms may be the name of someone later discredited or who develops a tarnished reputation from other actions in their lives. Should someone who did evil deeds be remembered in an eponym or should it be changed?

Who knew eponyms could be so interesting?

Know some good eponyms with fun stories? I'd love to hear them.

Eponyms are distinct from the fun concept of Nominative determinism—an aptronym—where someone's name seemingly influenced their future actions or career choices (for example, Les McBurney — Volunteer firefighter).

I've covered a lot of eponyms over the years, far more than I realised. Using the handy list page on the site, I've collected some other eponym examples, which include a lot of my favourites:

Eponym

Trench warfare dominated the fighting in WW1. After the initial hasty digging of trenches in the early days of the war, as each side dug in to defend their lines, trenches evolved to be more complex and sophisticated, including digging them in a stepped or zigzag shape.

Why were trenches dug in a zigzag pattern? Zigzagging trenches with sharp corners helped remedy several fatal flaws learned from early trench warfare:

One of the key advantages of a zigzag trench is its ability to contain blasts. In a straight trench, the blast from mortar or artillery fire would travel unimpeded to either side. However, a trench with frequent bends could confine explosions to smaller portions of the trench, reducing casualties.

2. Zigzags help slow an enemy down after capturing a trench

A straight trench meant that breaching a portion of it gave a long line of sight and the ability to fire down the trench which could aid attackers. Angles and corners from the zigzag or wavy shape of a trench meant that line of sight was reduced and gave better defensive positions with cover and concealment.

So, the simple change from a straight trench to a zigzag gave defenders significant advantages, and both sides used the design during the war. It's painful to imagine the tragic lessons that led to this evolution in design.

I learned about zigzag trench design from a children's book about WW1: 50 Things You Should Know About The First World War, by Jim Eldridge. It's striking how such a simple design change can have a significant effect. It's also a great example of how a simple solution can seem so obvious in retrospect and yet may take time to develop.

One of the trends of evolution identified in the theory of inventive problem solving that always fascinated me and has myriad applications is how straight lines in products typically evolve to jointed or bent, then wavy lines. As the theory would say, a straight line has unused potential, and someone will find an advantage in introducing a bend or bends. I sketched a similar trend about flat surfaces having unused potential.

The Imperial War Museum has a great 9-minute video explaining trench warfare, which discusses the zigzag or stepped design in this sketch.

Zigzag trenches

The Olympic Flag, which consists of five interlocking coloured rings, was created by Frenchman Pierre de Coubertin, the founder of the modern Olympic games, and unveiled in 1914.

Coubertin said that the five rings represent the five parts of the world embracing "Olympism" and competing against each other: Africa, The Americas, Asia, Europe and Oceania. The interlacing of the rings represents the unity and coming together of athletes from all parts of the world. Coubertin did not associate individual rings with individual continents.

The six colours of blue, dark yellow, black, green, red and white—the field on which the rings are set—"reproduce the colours of every country", and at least one is found on every national flag (I believe that’s still true).

I was thinking of including a sketch of each of the Olympic sports, but depending on how you count them, there are 32 sports and over 300 events.

You can learn more than you ever wanted to know about the history of the Olympic Flag in The Story of the Rings by Karl Lennartz (pdf). 

The Olympic flag and various other Olympic Properties (like the rings, torch and motto) are © IOC.

Great Britain, the British Isles, the United Kingdom - eh?

The Olympic Flag

Theatre and amphitheatre (or theater and amphitheater) have the distinction that a theatre is one-sided viewing of a central stage, and an amphitheatre has viewing all around. The word amphitheatre derives from the Greek word amphi- loosely meaning on both sides or all around.

For years, I've used amphitheatre for any large open galleried seating, but technically, as for the spectacular Minack theatre in Cornwall, England, if it's one-sided, then it's a theatre.

You'll also see the same pattern in amphoras, which commonly have handles on both sides of the vessel, and amphibians who are at home on both land and water. Plus, related ambivalence, ambidextrous (amphi- Greek, ambi- Latin).

It's fun having an aunt who used to teach classics =)

Also see: classical columns, pyrrhic victory, the Rosetta stone

Amphitheatre and theatre

A Pyrrhic victory is one where your own losses or damage make it nearly as costly as defeat.

Perhaps that business rival finally went out of business after you lowered prices so much that you can now barely get by. Maybe you managed to prove you were right at the cost of ruining a relationship. Or it could be that the kids did in fact get in the car and go out on that blasted walk only for everyone to have a miserable time, angry at each other for the rest of the day.

Or maybe, as King Pyrrhus of Epirus found in 279 BCE, you won several battles against the Romans while losing so many of your best warriors as to make you wonder at the worth of the whole campaign.

Pyrrhic victory

The Norse Gods are still among us in the names of the days of the week.

Tuesday — from Old English Tiw, for Tyr the Norse god of combat

Wednesday — from Old English Woden, for Odin the one-eyed king of the gods

Thursday — for Thor, the quick to fight god of ordinary people with his magical hammer Mjollnir

Friday — for Frigg, wife of Odin and goddess of marriage and motherhood

While Saturday, Sunday and Monday follow the celestial bodies Saturn, the sun, and the moon.

As a wonderful introduction to the Norse myths and gods you could do much worse than the entertaining and beautifully produced Illustrated Norse Myths I was commanded to read by our 9-year old.

Illustrations based off of those by the excellent Matteo Pincelli.

Days of the week

Jared Diamond’s classic book Guns, Germs and Steel, proposes some remarkable hypotheses about how the pattern of history played out, notably trying to answer the question of why it was generally the Europeans that invaded much of the rest of the world rather than the other way around. One hypothesis, striking in its simplicity if you’ve ever looked at a world map, is the significant contribution of the general orientation of the major continents.

The Americas are largely lined up north–south, while Europe and Asia (Eurasia) are largely lined up east-west. An east-west alignment means the land generally has a more similar climate, day-length and seasonal variations. The general logic of the hypothesis is that the similar latitude of an east–west alignment means animals, crops, as well as travel and trade, more easily spread across the continents than across those with a north–south alignment — of the Americas and Africa — which naturally encounter more different climatic zones.

As a simplified example, horses and other large animals and crops spread throughout the shared temperate latitudes of Eurasia. In contrast, South America’s only large domesticated animal, the thick-coated llama (and related species like the alpaca), couldn’t easily spread to North America through the impassable tropical barrier of the isthmus of Panama. They just aren’t built for it.

There are a lot of viewpoints on the theory, and Diamond includes many more factors of geography and others — like never being able to domesticate the zebra — that go towards answering his question of why Spain invaded the Americas and not vice-versa. But ever since reading his simple hypothesis, available to anyone with a world map, I’ve found it hugely intriguing.

The continental axis hypothesis

Marchetti's constant is the idea that people throughout history have budgeted, on average, about an hour a day for travelling.

Originally observed by Yacov Zahavi, it came from the observation that even as our means of transport sped up, instead of travelling less each day, we would just travel further.

This leads to the conclusion that the size of our cities increases partly according to how efficiently we can travel in and out—they generally increase to a size that maintains about an hour of round-trip travel time.

Cesare Marchetti observed that Greek villages and ancient walking cities, as marked by ancient city walls, tend to share a radius of about 2.5km. Walking at a typical 5km/hr makes a one-hour round-trip journey. He also pointed out that: “Even people in prison for a life sentence, having nothing to do and nowhere to go, walk around for one hour a day, in the open.”

Unfortunately, if you live in London, the average round-trip seems to be an exception of 1h30.

This is also known as the constant travel time budget hypothesis.

Isochrones. It might be interesting to look at these according to transport method

Our senses are built to take in information at human pace

Image adapted from: Marchetti, C., 1994: Anthropological Invariants in Travel Behavior, Technological Forecasting and Social Change , 47 :75–88, Internal Publication, International Institute for Applied Systems Analysis.

Marchetti’s constant

The Union Jack, one of the most recognizable flags in the world, is a combination of three historic flags. It represents the union of nations within the United Kingdom at the time the Union Jack flag design was created and is made up of:

The Saltire of St Andrew for Scotland: a white diagonal cross on a blue background. The term “saltire” refers to this specific diagonal cross shape in heraldry.

The Cross of St Patrick for Ireland: a red diagonal cross on a white background. Though Ireland is no longer part of the United Kingdom, it is still represented in the design.

The Cross of St George for England: a red cross on a white background.

You may notice that Wales, which is part of the United Kingdom, is not represented on the Union Jack flag. This absence is because Wales was considered a principality under the Kingdom of England, not a separate kingdom, when the flag was created.

The Union Jack we know today didn’t always look this way. The first version, known as the Union Flag of 1606, only combined the crosses of St George and St Andrew, representing England and Scotland. It wasn't until 1801, with the Act of Union between Great Britain and Ireland, that the Cross of St Patrick was added, resulting in the modern Union Flag, often referred to as the Union Jack.

The term “Union Jack” comes from naval usage. A “jack” is a flag flown from the bow of a ship. Originally referred to as the Union Flag, it became more commonly known as the Union Jack when flown at sea. Over time, this name has become standard, even on land.

According to the Flag Institute, the terms are often used interchangeably. However, some argue we should only call it a “Union Jack” when flown on a ship.

By representing the United Kingdom, the Union Jack appears on other flags. For example, the Union Jack flag is part of Australia's flag, which also includes the Southern Cross, and New Zealand's flag. It's also part of the flags of several Commonwealth countries and British Overseas Territories. It is often used symbolically to represent the UK in popular culture and events worldwide.

Sometimes, people refer to it as the Great Britain flag, though this is not technically accurate, as Great Britain refers only to the island, not the full union.

If you're interested in flags, you might already know someone studying flags is called a vexillologist. Vexillology is the study of the history, symbolism, and usage of flags. Like the history of the Union Jack here, flags are both a symbol and a product of the history and culture of a country or institution. The history and construction of the Olympic Flag is a good example.

Curious about the difference between Great Britain and the United Kingdom?

The Union Jack

This is generally the source of much confusion, even amongst those who live over here.

If you look carefully at the description of the United Kingdom (on a passport say), you’ll see it’s the "United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland". So the UK is both of those.

Great Britain is the largest island in the British Isles and includes the three countries: England, Scotland and Wales.

The British Isles is the group of islands as a whole, including all of Ireland.

The British Isles also include several significant islands that are part of Scotland, such as the Hebrides (Inner and Outer), and the Northern Isles of both Orkney and Shetland. It also encloses the Isle of Man, which sits in the Irish Sea between England and Northern Island and is actually a self-governing British Crown Dependency with its own parliament and government.

For a little more subtlety, there's the term the British Islands (as opposed to Isles), which includes the UK, the Isle of Man and the Channel Islands, which sit closer to France.

For much further confusion, think for a moment why there’s a UK passport, Great Britain in the Olympic games, and in football, we compete as England, Wales, Scotland and N. Ireland separately. 🤔

Great Britain and the United Kingdom: What’s the difference?

The Rosetta Stone is the sort of artefact that makes history fascinating. It is amazing to behold, has a fascinating story and a controversial past, and is the key to the mystery of hieroglyphics.

The Rosetta Stone has inscribed on it a decree by priests honouring Ptolemy V, who was 13 at the time. The inscription is in hieroglyphic and demotic - both scripts of the Egyptian language - and Greek. Comparing the known Greek with the hieroglyphs with some remarkable talent became the key to deciphering the written language of hieroglyphs.

The Rosetta Stone can be seen for free at the British Museum. I highly recommend it.

You could also read Professor Munakata’s British Museum Adventure, a manga comic book featuring the Rosetta Stone.

The Rosetta Stone

Sadly it turns out that there is not reliable evidence for this derivation of the word POSH, but it’s so nice I’d finished the sketchplanation before I knew it. The story went that if you were travelling by boat from Western Europe to India and the Far East by boat back in the day the rich people naturally took the best cabins. And the best cabins on the way Out, were on the Port side so you got a great view of the coast all the way around Africa. And on the way back on the Starboard site to enjoy the view once more. Et voila POSH as a synonym for rich. After much digging I had to conclude that the story was apocryphal, but it’s nice nonetheless.

POSH: Port Out Starboard Home (apocryphal)

Always good to share with friends and family your knowledge of doric columns, ionic columns or corinthian style classical columns when you spot them in the wild.

Classical columns: doric, ionic, and corinthian

The Mediterranean sea was formed kind of how you think it might have happened from just looking at a world map — the mighty Atlantic ocean breaking free to fill up the giant basin from the African continent pushing into Europe.

I imagine it somewhat like the footage of when the sea reclaimed a tin mine in Malaysia in a few short minutes. Or when the waves finally overcame the walls of my sandcastle, just at a staggering scale.

History sketches