Modern cartography should not be determined via political pressure. If we all can’t agree on that, we really should.

That’s the basis of why it was so cowardly for both Google and Apple to rename the Gulf of Mexico in their maps. As far as I know, there is no law in the United States that compels any private company to draw or label their maps according to what that country considers its official naming. And because there isn’t means that any company that complies with any country’s official naming—specifically as outlined by the executive branch of the United States government—did so completely voluntarily.

I just want to say right out of the gate that if the argument is that the name is official, it should go without saying that it is official only in one country in the world. Even people who speak US English and have their devices set to US English may not live—shocker—in the United States. But if we do care about official names, there is a long list of place names, including indisputable names of countries themselves that are not recognized across regions and languages. In just one example, Japan is not the official name of the country inside of Japan. It’s officially Nippon (or Nihon in everyday conversation). In kanji it’s represented as 日本, but Nippon is the romanized name. And yet that isn’t the name the rest of the world uses, because of long-standing misrepresentations of its name from Europeans that cascaded the world over. (In Japanese maps, 日本 is used.)

Maybe that doesn’t seem so weird to you, so let me show you what happens in the other direction. In Japanese, people call the United Kingdom Igirisu. That’s derived from “English,” which I think we all know represents only one country inside the country known as the United Kingdom. That’s genuinely confusing. And if you’re curious, England is called Ingurando, which is about as close as you can get in Japanese.

I bring this up because in the global arena, if we can’t even let countries name themselves, then arguing about the names of bodies of water in the open sea must seem ridiculous even within this broader scope of the same topic. But, I admit that I’ve digressed.

For weeks now, I’ve noticed a common refrain, “pick your battles.” It’s a phrase I have heard many times in my life as a very opinionated person who loves to fight every battle. People say it as a way to remind you that there’s likely a larger battle in the future you’ll want to save your strength for, as if holding your strength in reserve will make your argument stronger in a theoretical future argument. Everyone knows it doesn’t work that way. People in power say it to keep others from having power themselves. It’s not a mechanism to help you be stronger; it’s a mechanism to keep you quiet.

But this whole Gulf of Mexico thing was an easy battle to fight. And there’s some value in winning the small battles that we can. The name of this body of water was not disputed by anyone. And yes, while it’s not the most important issue facing the world today, I’d like to think we’re capable of fighting more than one battle at a time, which we’re going to have to do going forward. Any one battle cannot be won before we can shift focus to the next. Get used to trying to fight multiple battles simultaneously.

That’s what makes this one feel so awful. It wasn’t a particularly difficult battle because there was no actual dispute happening. There are longer-standing, actual disagreements on some bodies of water, namely S-23, commonly known as the Sea of Japan. This name has been disputed formally for decades, with evidence from over 1000 years ago supporting naming it the East Sea. North Korea and South Korea agree on this. And though Russia shares comparatively very little coastline with it and China shares absolutely zero coastline with it, they too have qualms with the name.

For reference, Apple Maps—by my checking right now (in US English, in Japan)—does not label this body of water at all. Searching “Sea of Japan” will pinpoint its coordinates, but that’s as far as it goes. Google, on the other hand, does label it as the “Sea of Japan.”

If you give this broader issue any thought whatsoever, all bodies of water in the open sea should be named poetically by neighboring countries rather than named for any neighboring countries. But also earlier, longer-standing names should probably be respected. That’s why it should be Denali. That’s why it should be the Gulf of Mexico. These names have heritage and history.

John Gruber says because they’re regionally tailored, maps from Google and Apple aren’t singular global atlases. The Oxford English Dictionary, he argues, is the same for everyone. A definition changes for everyone simultaneously.

Every publisher—just as every cartographer—gets to do what they think is right, not what they are dictated to do by any government. While it’s true there is only one “OED,” there are a few English dictionaries from Oxford, including the Canadian Oxford Dictionary, the New Oxford American Dictionary (NOAD), and the Oxford English Dictionary (OED). Also, not everyone uses the Oxford English Dictionary. There are obviously other English dictionaries, at least the Merriam-Webster Dictionary. The OED is like Google Maps and Apple Maps in that it is not the singular (English) dictionary either. Changing one dictionary does not change every dictionary.

Whether MapQuest renames the Gulf of Mexico is truly their own decision. And I hope they make the right one, because Apple and Google did not. They had an opportunity to resist authoritarianism, but instead obeyed in advance, without any legal requirement to do so.

This is not as trivial as it is being made out to be. Donald Trump just demonstrated the influence he has over tech companies. They did exactly as he asked even though they were not forced to. That frightens me.

Just as I asked where the line is for individuals, I’m curious where the line is for companies like Apple and Google too. Because though undoubtedly Donald Trump would’ve been pissed had either company not renamed the body of water, I’d like to have seen him try to force them to do it. It would have necessitated much more visible authoritarianism, and people would have got way more upset about that.

Apple is a big, powerful company with the capability of doing what’s right even in the face of potential retaliation. They had the power to resist but didn’t. I cannot even begin to describe how disappointing that feels. I don’t think my anger or disappointment is misplaced. This decision wasn’t Trump’s decision. It was Tim Cook’s decision.

In a footnote comparison about the Associated Press losing part of their White House access because they refuse to call it the Gulf of America, John quips that it’d be ridiculous if Apple stopped inviting him to events if he styled MacOS with a capital M, instead of macOS with a lowercase m. Sure, that would be ridiculous, but Apple has revoked press access for petty reasons before. But writing 5000 words in defense of Apple’s decision to rename the Gulf of Mexico is also in service of staying on the invitation list.

Donald Trump asked Tim Cook to kiss the ring, and Tim didn’t seem to hesitate. If I worked at Apple, I would not only be ashamed to work there after this, I would quit. I would feel absolutely awful to continue exchanging the value of my time for any amount of money from a company that quickly surrenders to one man.

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