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Why the Dancing Stallion, Why “Play Hard But Fair”, and Why I Write in Latin - “Ludus Durus Autem Aequus”

  • Writer: Brian AJ  Newman LLB
    Brian AJ Newman LLB
  • Feb 10
  • 3 min read
People often ask why my BAJN logo is a dancing stallion—and why my motto is “Play Hard But Fair.” On the surface, it looks like branding. But it isn’t decoration. It’s biography.

The dancing stallion
A stallion is power, yes—but not power for show. A stallion represents movement, instinct, endurance, and will. It’s an animal that doesn’t survive by being timid. It survives by being alert, deliberate, and unafraid to run straight into weather if it must.

But I chose a dancing stallion, not a static one, for a reason.
A still horse can look like a monument—perfect, controlled, posed for someone else’s gaze. A dancing stallion is different. It’s alive. It carries motion in its body. It has presence. It says: I’m not here to be managed. I’m here to move.

That’s what the logo means to me.
It represents the kind of fight that isn’t just brute strength. It’s discipline under pressure, the ability to pivot, to step, to hold your line and still keep your rhythm. When life has tried to break you, rhythm becomes survival. You learn to move through conflict without letting conflict dictate who you are.

In my world—advocacy, dispute, negotiation, tribunal work—there’s always resistance. There are always systems and people who assume you’ll fold, apologise, retreat, or go quiet. The dancing stallion is my reminder that I won’t.

“Play hard but fair”
“Play hard but fair” or “Ludus Durus Autem Aequus” is not a slogan to soften a fight. It’s a standard.

I believe in going hard—because injustice doesn’t respond to whispers. If you’re representing someone who has been dismissed, humiliated, bullied, harassed, discriminated against, or crushed by a system that knows how to protect itself, you cannot bring half a spine to the table. You prepare. You press. You make it uncomfortable to ignore the truth.

But the second half matters just as much: fair.

Why the Dancing Stallion, Why “Play Hard But Fair”, and Why I Write in Latin - “Ludus Durus Autem Aequus”
Why the Dancing Stallion, Why “Play Hard But Fair”, and Why I Write in Latin - “Ludus Durus Autem Aequus”
Fair means:
  • You don’t lie.
  • You don’t exaggerate.
  • You don’t manufacture outrage to win sympathy.
  • You don’t weaponise power against the vulnerable.
  • You don’t forget the humanity of the person opposite you—even when they’ve forgotten yours.

Fair means you can fight hard and still sleep at night because your method was clean.

The motto is also personal. It’s how I’ve had to live. When you grow up learning the world can be hostile, you can either become reckless or you can become disciplined. “Play hard but fair” is my discipline. It’s the line I refuse to cross, even when anger would make it easy.

Why I use Latin
People sometimes mistake Latin for pretence. I use it for the opposite reason.

Latin represents the idea that education has no ceiling—and no single gatekeeper. It says knowledge is not owned by the privileged. It can be reclaimed, learned, and used with purpose by anyone prepared to do the work.

Latin also carries a certain weight of tradition. It reminds me that ideas outlive trends—that the fundamental questions about justice, duty, truth, power, and morality are ancient questions. We didn’t invent them. We inherited them. And if we’re serious, we add something to the chain rather than breaking it.

But for me, it’s even more direct: Latin is a quiet refusal to accept limitations that were placed on people like me—limitations about what you’re “allowed” to know, what you’re “meant” to aspire to, and what kind of intellectual life you’re “supposed” to live.

I use Latin because it signals that my mind is not confined by anyone’s assumptions.

The philosophy underneath it all
The stallion, the motto, the Latin—they point to the same core belief:

  • There is no limit to education.
  • There is no limit to growth.
  • There is no limit to how deeply a person can think, feel, and become.

I have a deep philosophical passion because I’ve had to build meaning out of chaos. I’ve had to learn, often the hard way, that the world is full of systems that talk about fairness while practicing control. So I became obsessed—almost compulsive—about what fairness really is, what justice really costs, what truth requires, and how people endure.

That’s why I read, why I study, why I write, and why I speak the way I do.

This isn’t aesthetic. It’s identity.
What the BAJN mark means, in one sentence

The dancing stallion is my will to move forward.“a” is my rule of engagement.Latin is my declaration that learning is limitless—and so am I.

Brian AJ Newman, LLB

Play Hard But Fair - Ludus Durus Autem Aequus

 
 
 

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