The Scots auld lang syne (literally “old long since”) means roughly “for old times’ sake” or “times long ago.” In 1788, Scottish poet Robert Burns sent “Auld Lang Syne” to a collector of Scottish folk songs with the note, “The following song, an old song, of the olden times, and which has never been in print, nor even in manuscript until I took it down from an old man.”

Burns added new verses to those in the older Scottish folk song. Versions vary, in Scots and English. Lines we sing each year had appeared in earlier Scottish street songs and verses. Sir Robert Ayton’s “Old Long Syne” was published in 1711. Allan Ramsey in the 1720s began one poem with the words, “Should auld acquaintance be forgot.” Burns’s words were soon paired with a new tune.

Themes of nostalgia, friendship, and drink made “Auld Lang Syne” a staple of the Scottish New Year celebration, Hogmanay. North American dance band leader Guy Lombardo and His Royal Canadians heard the song during a winter in Britain and added it to their repertoire. From 1929 to 1976, first on radio and then on television, Lombardo’s band made “Auld Lang Syne” a highlight of their annual New Year’s Eve special. Millions sang along each year. Nearly half a century after Lombardy’s death, tomorrow at the stroke of midnight we’ll sing it again. 

Image: Illustration to Robert Burns' poem “Auld Lang Syne” by J.M. Wright and Edward Scriven. 

What does Yule evoke for you? Blazing fireplace log? Hot cider and eggnog? Solstice bonfire? Christmas carolers in the snow?

Yule gets its name from a pre-Christian Germanic winter observance, called jól in Old Norse and geola or giuli in Old English. Alleged details of jól gatherings to stave off the darkness are mostly speculative. In the cold and dark of northern Europe, one constant of the holiday must have been fire in some form. Another likely constant was feasting on roasted meats, since farmers would not have had enough feed to keep all their animals alive through the winter.

The Venerable Bede, an English monk and chronicler in the early 700s, wrote of a one- or two-month period called guili on the Anglo-Saxon calendar: “The months of Giuli derive their name from the day when the Sun turns back [and begins] to increase.” The later Icelandic Saga of Hákon the Good called jól a three-day celebration that began at mid-winter.

According to the saga, King Hákon of Norway (died 961) tried unsuccessfully to convert his entire nation to Christianity. Knowing the pagans would not willingly abandon their traditional holidays, he changed the date of jól to coincide with Christmas. Thus those who link Yule with the Solstice are historically correct, and so are those who equate it with Christmas or the season.

Whatever you may or may not celebrate this winter, glad Yuletide to all!

     "Give us a protective tariff, and we shall have the greatest nation on earth."
          - Abraham Lincoln, 1847

We learned in high school how the American Revolution reflected the colonists’ resentment of British taxes. I didn’t know until recently that they also resented Britain’s refusal to let the colonies tax imports. No sooner was the Constitution ratified than Congress enacted a tariff. Despite occasional controversy, import duties remained a mainstay of American policy from 1789 until the end of World War II.

Tariff revenues provided funds to run the federal government. With America lagging far behind England in manufactures, tariffs protected a program of rapid industrial catch-up. The War of 1812 showed vulnerability to a naval blockade, making it a matter of national security to reduce dependence on imports.

Second only to slavery, tariffs were the great controversy leading up to the Civil War. Whigs and Republicans enacted high protective tariffs, which benefited Northern industry. Democrats argued for free trade, to promote export of cotton and other raw materials. The pro-tariff forces dominated. Between 1861 and 1933, U.S. import duties on manufactures reached 50 percent, among the highest in the world.

Only after World War II did American economists and policy makers begin to favor reciprocal free trade. The old motives for tariffs had changed. After 1913, when the 16th Amendment allowed federal income taxes, tariffs ceased to be essential for revenue. American industry had caught up and surpassed the rest of the world. Airplanes and other technology made a successful naval blockade less likely.

Do the advantages of import duties still justify the resulting price increases? It's up for debate.

Image: British cartoon shows Americans and others using protectionism to win out over British free trade.

I once thought public health was about free medical services for those who couldn’t afford to pay. As an impoverished student, I was grateful the county clinic gave my baby vaccinations that would otherwise have cost $35 apiece.

Only much later, as I worked closely with public health professionals, did I see that public health is so much more. Even those of us with employer-paid insurance are profoundly affected by community factors beyond individual control. Sanitation doesn’t respect property lines. No vaccine is 100 percent effective. Tracking some threats requires laboratory tools.

​Infectious diseases are the examples I know best. Personal decisions aren’t enough to prevent or control an epidemic. Among recent outbreaks:

• Measles in Samoa, 2019. Samoa was on track to eliminate measles when the success of anti-vaccine activists let the disease return with a vengeance. Within less than four months, thousands of Samoans caught measles and eighty-three of them died.
• Covid in the United States, 2020. The surge of cases in a population with no prior immunity overwhelmed the medical system, leaving hospitals with too little space and staff to provide needed life-saving care.
• Polio in Gaza, 2024. Airstrikes destroyed most water and wastewater infrastructure in war-torn Gaza. Children waded through sewage. The first child paralyzed by polio there in twenty-five years signaled hundreds infected, since most infections are asymptomatic.

There’s legitimate room for debate on where to draw the line between personal freedom and danger to the community. Public health can help keep us all safer than we could be through individual choices alone.

Image: Laboratory scientist holds slide for DNA sequencing. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

So many ways to wait. With excitement or dread. With calm or hypervigilance. You might be waiting for a package delivery, the end of an ordeal, or the outcome of a high-stakes contest or medical test. Sometimes in these darker months, I wait with foreboding for the advent of something unspecified, as if the soundtrack of a suspense film were playing in my head.

Like preparation or getting ready, waiting anticipates a future event or change. Unlike preparation, waiting is a state of mind. It’s often most intense when there’s little you can do to prepare.

When waiting grows uncomfortable and refuses to be ignored, the best response depends on circumstance and personality. Here are three of my standbys:

1. Take one preparatory action, just enough to feel agency instead of victimhood. The trick is to keep it small enough not to slip into obsession.
2. Commit to something demanding and all-engrossing that has nothing to do with the object of waiting. I moved house during the 2016 election, leaving no time to fret.
3. Observe with curiosity. This is one of my favorites. It allows me to couple fascination with detachment, as though I were watching a movie or creating a documentary.

Image: Photograph by Suganth on Unsplash.