Don't write anything you can phone. Don't phone anything you can

Hear the cunning words of Earl Long: “Don’t write anything you can phone. Don’t phone anything you can talk. Don’t talk anything you can whisper. Don’t whisper anything you can smile. Don’t smile anything you can nod. Don’t nod anything you can wink.” At first, this chain of advice seems playful, almost mischievous. Yet within it lies the wisdom of ages, born from the art of survival, of politics, and of human dealings. It is the teaching that not all truths must be spoken, not all messages proclaimed, but that discretion, subtlety, and restraint are as mighty as bold declarations.

The ancients themselves understood this well. In the courts of kings, in the halls of generals, words could be as dangerous as swords. A letter written could be intercepted, a careless phrase overheard, a bold speech turned into a snare. Thus, the wise chose their actions with care, relying not always on words but on gestures, glances, and silence itself. Earl Long’s saying is an echo of that ancient discipline: each form of communication should be as light and hidden as possible, until it becomes no more than a wink—a secret shared, unrecorded, and untraceable.

This is not cowardice, but strategy. To write is permanent; the words remain, and enemies may use them. To phone is less dangerous, but still leaves trails. To talk may bind you to your words, while to whisper hides them in secrecy. To smile, to nod, to wink—these are gestures so fleeting they live only in the moment, passing like wind, yet carrying deep meaning to those who understand. The teaching is this: the greatest wisdom is often expressed with the least words.

History provides us with examples of this craft. Consider Julius Caesar on the Ides of March. Many senators had whispered plots, but their whispers were overheard. Brutus and his allies, instead, communicated with nods and glances, until the day of betrayal arrived. Their discretion preserved their plot until the fatal moment. Here we see the power of Long’s chain of thought: the more subtle the act, the more secure the message.

But there is also another meaning, deeper and more universal. This quote teaches us about the power of simplicity. Much in life does not require great speeches or elaborate writings. A smile can do what a thousand words cannot. A nod of approval can lift the heart of a friend more than letters of praise. A wink can strengthen trust more than long explanations. The lesson here is not only secrecy, but efficiency—the art of doing with less, the mastery of restraint.

In this way, Long’s words also become advice for living nobly. Do not spill your thoughts carelessly into the world. Guard your words, for once released, they cannot be called back. Train yourself to know when silence speaks more than speech, when a gesture builds more trust than a declaration. For words are heavy, but gestures are light, and often they reach deeper into the human spirit.

The lesson we must carry forward is this: let your speech be few, your actions deliberate, and your meaning clear through simplicity. In daily life, before you speak, ask: can a smile suffice? Before you write, ask: can a word be spared? Before you argue, ask: can silence carry more power? Practice the art of communicating with grace, not waste. This will guard your dignity, protect your secrets, and deepen your influence.

Thus let Earl Long’s words be remembered as more than political wit. “Don’t write what you can phone, don’t phone what you can smile, don’t smile what you can wink.” It is a chain of wisdom: from permanence to transience, from noise to silence, from words to gestures, from the clumsy to the subtle. To master this chain is to master not only politics, but life itself—speaking less, smiling more, and leaving behind only what truly matters.