Do crimes against English really exist?

Is there such a thing as a crime against English? Or are some of us just too pedantic for our own good?

I’ve been thinking about this again after reading Cathy Relf’s ‘Rantings of a sub-editor’ blog, in which she debates whether some ways of writing (or speaking) can be described as ‘wrong’.

She says: ‘You can have formal, standard or style-guide compliant styles, and you can have colloquial, slang or pidgin variations, but language is rarely wrong. Unless you’re misunderstood by almost everyone, almost all of the time. Then, perhaps, you’re doing it wrong.’

My first inclination was to agree. Then I remembered that my blog is called Crimes against English, and for a reason.

When I started grammar school we studied, well, grammar. In my first year we had a textbook that had exercises with names like ‘What’s wrong with this sentence?’ (I found these fun and interesting, which was probably a clue that I should become an editor when I grew up.)

By the time I got to university, things had changed: we were taught that there is no such thing as incorrect language, just inappropriate language. The theory was that usage decides what is acceptable.

Taking this approach, I’d agree with Cathy’s distinction between formal and colloquial language. I’d even agree that it’s probably not worth trying to save the ‘correct’ meaning of ‘disinterested’ from extinction.

But I wouldn’t agree that there’s no such thing as ‘wrong’ when it comes to written English. Not just because I’d be out of a job if that were true, but because we’d all be the poorer if we lost the ability to use the right word in the right place.

Does it matter, for example, that a restaurant review uses the phrase ‘cleansing your pallet’? I think it does. And not just because ‘cleansing your palate’ is a cliché.

It’s not about getting the spelling wrong: it’s about getting the word wrong. Yes, it’s easy to get your homophones mixed up, particularly when writing in a hurry. It’s even easier to laugh at someone else when they do that.

But it still matters. It’s about having an understanding of where words come from and how they fit in.

You don’t necessarily need to know that ‘palate’ comes from the Latin for the roof of the mouth and ‘pallet’ from the word for ‘spade’. But if you remember that the word ‘palate’ is related to the word ‘palatable’, then you know that it’s connected to taste – not a wooden platform for moving goods. And if you can make those connections, you have an instinct for words that helps you to use the right one.

If, instead, you go for the first word that comes to mind, then you’re not respecting words. And in my book, that is a crime.

Jargon, solutions and how not to sell to businesses

Please let me know if you can work out what a 'real-time behavioural targeting and cross-channel lifecycle marketing solution for digital marketers' actually is.

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that the business world is a place where crimes against English are committed on a regular basis. It still makes me wonder, though, why people think that being obscure will help them to communicate effectively. Or to sell anything.

I recently attended a trade fair for the publishing industry and was astonished at the sheer number of exhibitors who were in the business of ‘solutions’.

I realise that ‘solution’-bashing is a well-established sport among those who care about words. But I still live in hope that we may eventually create enough ridicule to put a stop to this misuse of what once was a useful word.

Looking through the event programme, I found companies offering ‘hosted solutions’, ‘workflow solutions’, ‘ad server solutions’, and ‘merchandising solutions’. You can probably try and guess what these mean. Then there are ‘deliverability solutions’: they send out emails.

But then it gets really abstract: ‘a professional and affordable solution’; ‘bespoke solutions’; ‘in-office solutions’; ‘best-of-breed solutions’…. even ‘a new standard for magazine publishing solutions’.

There are some very good, meaningful words that you can use instead. One is ‘products’; another is ‘services’. Interestingly, these tend to be used by companies who are selling old-fashioned, tangible things, such as printing and distribution.

But even some of the tech companies choose to be clearer: ‘tools’, ‘software’ or ‘systems’ tells you more about what they are actually selling.

I really wonder why business-to-business communication tends to be so obscure. Is it because businesses are afraid that they won’t have credibility if they’re not using the latest buzzwords? Is it really a prerequisite for selling to publishers that you have to know what ‘conversational marketing’ and ‘combinatorial publishing’ mean? Or to clothe your products in trendy vagueness so that no-one knows what it is you are actually selling?

If I want to buy something, I don’t want to waste time trying to work out whether a particular supplier actually sells it. I’ll always favour someone who knows how to use plain English and wants to speak to me clearly.

This is one exhibitor who got it right: ‘Author and supplier of a range of computer programs written specifically for the magazine publishing industry that helps you to manage your business.’ One sentence, 23 words: who they are, what they do, how they can help me. Clear and simple.

And I did, at least, find one exhibitor in the entire programme who was able to use the word solution correctly: ‘Don’t have the resources to develop apps? We have the solution.’

‘Further action’ and other stock epithets

I came across two interesting crimes against English on my travels. They don’t at first seem to have much in common, apart from a disregard for the essence of a coherent sentence. But when I thought about it I found there was a link.

In a ladies’ toilet in a Dublin office block I saw this notice: ‘We would kindly ask all users not to discard toilet tissue in the sanitary bins provided.’ The word ‘kindly’ seems a bit out of place here (although it’s nice that they are trying to be polite). That’s not the crime, though.

In a patch of waste ground in Oxfordshire I saw this less polite notice: ‘Car Park for Private Permit Holder use only. Further action may be taken on unauthorised cars.’ I didn’t much like the unnecessary use of capital letters. That’s not the crime though.

Logic often (but not always) gives a clue about why a sentence might be wrong. The bins are not provided for the purpose of not discarding things in them. The car park managers can’t take further action if they have taken no action previously (and it wasn’t mentioned).

But there’s more to it than that. Here’s the nerd note:

If you studied classics, or Anglo Saxon literature, or even if you didn’t, you might have come across the concept of ‘stock epithets’: descriptive phrases that have become through time permanently attached to particular nouns. It’s a technique that made sense when creating oral literature (because it made things easier to remember). And it’s remained popular, because it makes it easy to write without thinking.

In the old days, you might see a ‘wine-dark sea’ or ‘rosy-fingered dawn’. Today, it’s more likely to be ‘sneak preview’ or ‘abject poverty’.

Or, in these cases, ‘further action’ and ‘bins provided’. Whoever wrote those notices was so used to the two words appearing together that they found themselves unable to separate them – even though the result makes no sense.

Comedy catchphrases and copywriting

Sometimes you wonder whether someone has missed their vocation. Perhaps they dreamed of being a comedian and ended up in marketing instead.

I recently noticed this on a packet of biscuits: “100% British wheat. Great British taste.” As a fan of Al Murray’s Pub Landlord, I couldn’t help hearing those words in his voice.

This led me to recall the first time I came across the slogan of the Thames Valley Farmers Market: “Local produce for local people”. I wondered at the time whether they had miscalculated with this, given the sinister aspect of The League of Gentlemen’s catchphrase “a local shop for local people”.

But I quite like the idea of comedy catchphrases as source material for marketing slogans. Can anyone suggest any others?

News of the World, Twitter and the fake Rebekah Brooks

Farewell, News of the World. There’s been enough comment on that already so I’m not going to add to it. This is about Twitter.

Some people have been saying “it was Twitter wot won it”. (On Twitter.) That sounds pat but it actually says a lot  about the way the media has changed. In 1992, after yet another Conservative election victory, the Sun front page headline gloated “It’s the Sun wot won it”. In 2011, people power – via social media – means that the grip on public opinion that traditional media used to take for granted is on its way out.

The consumer campaign that led to News of the World losing its advertising has had the high profile. But what I have really enjoyed is the thing that Twitter does supremely well: satire.

It’s been wonderful to watch fake accounts spring up overnight, just to make a point.

There are several spoof Rebekah Brooks on Twitter, including @NewtsoftheWorld and @Rebekah_thehack. (And, confusingly, a genuine @Rebekah_Brooks in New Hampshire who happens to be a freelance writer.)

My favourite so far is @RebekahBrooksNI.

On 6th July, she tweeted: “Just so you know, whenever anything ever happened, I was on holiday. Or horse riding. Or looking at my hair. Blame that bastard Coulson.”

Two days later she tweeted: “So if I click ‘Empty Trash’ everything is gone? For Good?”

Meanwhile, @RupertMurdochPR tweets: “The Sun’s new prison correspodent, Andy Coulson, might be starting his new job sooner than I thought. Keep yah bloody trap shut, Andy.”

A fake Andy Coulson account,  @AndyECoulson, has been around for a while and had this to say back in January: “Anyone who believes I have the technical skill to tap phones should have seen my feeble attempts to delete my harddrive this morning.”

And thanks to the well established account @mydavidcameron I discovered a brand-new spoof Sun on Sunday newspaper with some brilliant parodies of tabloid stories, including “What’s in a name? Cameron to shut down monarchy” and “Cops Give Andy Coulson a Cup of Tea – at TAXPAYERS EXPENSE!”

Why grammar sometimes doesn’t matter (that much)

I hate a misplaced apostrophe as much as anyone. And I really hate unnecessary capital letters.

But, as any editor will tell you, the real reason for describing a piece of writing as bad is nothing to do with breaking the ‘rules’. It’s to do with communication. Ultimately, crimes against English happen when something about the writing prevents the message from getting across.

And this particular message – repeated at several places along the Thames Path – was very clear. And undoubtedly, for many of its readers, very welcome. I don’t think they would have cared about that apostrophe at all.

Words to be avoided, number 1: ‘initiative’

Seen at Reading railway station: a banner with the words ‘Please take care on the station. Do not run.’ And underneath in smaller print: ‘This is a First Great Western safety initiative.’
No, it’s not. It’s a poster.

The case of the lost superlatives

When ‘awesome’ means cool, and ‘cool’ means OK; when ‘amazing’ means good, and ‘brilliant’ means thank you, how do you describe this?

Jargon, interns and library cuts

These are some of the things that have caught my eye on the web this week: the perennial complaint about business jargon, more on unpaid interns, and slightly good news about the libraries campaign.

A post from Rolf Soderlind on his Grumpy Old editor blog about business jargon led me to revisit Unsuck It, a wonderfully low-key site that translates what they describe as ‘terrible business jargon’. As a website manager, I particularly enjoyed this definition:

Below the Fold
They don’t like the ad placement since it is below the fold.
Unsucked:
. . . thar be dragons!

Suzanne Collier on Twitter pointed out the latest addition to the ongoing discussion on internships. One of the great things about Twitter is the chance to find out about interesting items in newspapers other than your usual one. Or, as Bad Journalism puts it: ‘Reading the Daily Mail so you don’t have to’. I’m pleased that the company I work for does pay its interns. But those working in the media unpaid might like to see the National Union of Journalists’ Cashback for Interns campaign

Finally, I’m indebted to the Campaign for the Book Official Facebook Site (from Alan Gibbons) for the welcome news that Oxfordshire County Council (my home patch) may not after all be closing 20 libraries.

Enjoyable English

Not everything that catches my eye is a crime against English. I think I will have to start a new category for ‘enjoyable English’. These aren’t exactly things that I would recommend as great piece of writing. But there is something appealing about them.

I came across two such examples while looking through last year’s holiday photos, both snapped on the Swanage heritage railway.

One demonstrates well the art of understatement: a current poster for Swanage railway station boasting of ’125 years of almost uninterrupted service’. That combination of pride and painstaking truthfulness is very English – and very endearing.

Then there’s the vintage advertisement that tells travellers to ‘Insist upon having Colman’s Starch’. And the reason? It has a great USP: ‘sold in cardboard boxes’.