I recently read the origin of the phrase, “chomping at the bit.” I always assumed it came from an impatient horse gnawing at the metal between its teeth, and I was correct about that. However, the word isn’t “chomping,” it’s “champing,” which refers to a similar but specific behavior of a horse.
Along the same lines, my college anthropology instructor taught us the correct pronunciation of “Neanderthal” is actually “NeanderTAL,” with a silent “h.”
My conundrum, then, is this: Do I say these kinds of words or phrases “correctly,” or do I say them the way that’s more commonly known? I have found when I say, “champing at the bit,” the listener challenges me, and I’m forced to explain in a curmudgeony way, “No, see, it’s really champing” and end up sounding like a pompous ass. But if I say it the incorrect way, am I then contributing to the DOWNFALL OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE?
What’s more desirable, being right or being understood?
In my position as content strategist, I am sometimes tasked with writing error messages. They seem innocuous enough. Tell the user, “We’re sorry, there’s been an error,” and move on, right?
Not so fast.
It seems natural to start the error message with “Sorry.” In conversational speech, we use it all the time. “I’m sorry?” when we didn’t catch what the other person said. “I’m sorry…” when we need to reach around someone at the grocery store. “I’m sorry,” to convey sympathy for another’s misfortune. And, of course, “I’m sorry,” to apologize for a misguided deed.
Though we have morphed “I’m sorry” from an admittance of guilt and expression of remorse to more of a synonym for “excuse me,” “I’m sorry” still holds a primary space in our language as an apology. How many times have you responded, “Wow, I’m sorry,” to a tale of woe, only to be met with, “It’s okay, it’s not your fault”? Regardless of the intent, “I’m sorry” seems to be best recognized as an apology and acknowledgment of responsibility.
With this in mind, let’s return to our error message assignment. When should we apologize? We believe it comes down to this:
We apologize when a situation on our end – intentional or unintentional – prevents the user from moving forward or completing an action.
Server down? We’re sorry. A bug? We’re sorry. Landshark? We’re sorry. In these cases, the user had absolutely nothing to do with any of these situations, and we will apologize for the inconvenience.
So then, in what situations would we withhold an apology? If a user needs to register before completing an action, we don’t apologize. If a user misses a required element on a form and cannot move forward, we don’t apologize. If a user intentionally or unintentionally violates our policies, we don’t apologize. In these cases, it is the user’s action that causes the error, and we don’t apologize; we inform and politely guide the user to the correct action. It doesn’t mean we don’t care about the user’s plight, but we don’t claim responsibility for it.
It sounds simple, but it gets tricky. “Was the IA too difficult, and therefore, our fault?” “Did we not message this policy correctly, and therefore, our fault?” “Should we have warned them the candygram was actually a landshark, and therefore, our fault?” You could drive yourself crazy doing this, so keep it simple. If the IA is bad, revisit and fix it later, but don’t apologize for it now.
And because this clip played repeatedly in my head as I wrote this, I now give you a moment of cinematic triumph:
Sometimes I wish I was a journalist. The dream usually hits me when I read essays that manage to not just report the news, but also put it in the proper sociatal context. James Poniewozik did this recently in a brillant article on Ex-Governor Rod Blagojavich’s recent media blitz, and what it tells us about society (and reality TV!). You can read it here.
The reason I’m writing about it is that Poniewozik (what a fun word to say…) used a word to describe Blagojevich that I didn’t know: solipsist. In case you don’t know it either, solipsism is defined as:
1. The theory that only the self exists, or can be proved to exist.
2. Extreme preoccupation with and indulgence of one’s feelings, desires, etc.; egoistic self-absorption.
The philosophy, the word, and its usage to describe Blagojevich really intruiged me, so I dug a little deeper. Here’s what I found on the logic (?) behind this philosophy:
I cannot be sure anyone else feels any emotions that I feel. Since our only source of knowledge of the world is our personal senses (eyes, ears, etc.), it could be argued that one only knows that he or she exists. Is it possible that our senses betray us, and that all we see and hear are but tricks played on us by our mind?
Very Matrix-like. The etymology of the word is also interesting:
Latin solus “alone” +ipse “self” + -ism. “Solus” is the origin of “solo” but also can be found in “solitary,” “soliloquy,” and “desolate.” In the Germanic languages it became solein “alone,” devolving into English “sullen.”
I like the word sullen, and didn’t know it came from the same root. Very interesting. Anyway, back to why I’m writing about it here. Two reasons, really.
One, I feel it is important for Keri and I to teach you new words that you can throw into everyday conversation to feel smart. This particular word has an added bonus in that you’d probably be able to insult someone without them knowing it. It’s always handy to have a word like that lying around.
Second, I’m surprised that Poniewozik (hmm, it gets funnier each time you say it) used this word in a major magazine article. I’m sure most people just glossed over it and didn’t think about it again. But I applaud Mr. Poniewozik (he he) for not selling out and using a lesser word when solipsist is clearly the absolute best fit for what he’s trying to say. So let’s take that as a lesson. When faced with a choice between using a perfect word or dumbing it down – use the perfect word. That’s how language stays alive and vibrant.
Yesterday I got an email from a vendor that said, among other things, the following:
we will defiantly reach out if we have any questions
It’s obviously an honest mistake, and all I should have done was chuckle and move on. But I didn’t. First I started thinking about how one would defiantly reach out to someone else with questions. Perhaps, “I have a question, and I don’t care what your opinion is about it, but you WILL answer me!”? I’m not sure.
And then I sent it to Keri, because I just wasn’t ready to be done with it. She took it one step further, so I feel like it’s appropriate to copy her exact email here:
Two things:
“Defiantly.” Hilarious.
“Reaching out” as a term for “contact” or “call” or “email.” That really annoys me. “Why don’t you reach out to Chris and get more information?” No. No, I will NOT “reach out” to Chris. I don’t need Chris to save me and Chris doesn’t need counseling from me. I just need to CONTACT him.
Just say CONTACT.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
…Okay. I’m better now.
So clearly Keri has some issues. But aside from that, it sparked a discussion on the use of fancy business jargon when good old-fashioned regular words would actually work just fine:
Reach out should be Contact Leverage should be Use Solve (as a noun) should be Solution Touch base should Talk to Absolutely should be Yes
And the list goes on and on. So I ask of our tens of blog readers – what other phrases are we missing? What business jargon drives you nuts?
By the way, to top it all off, this morning I received a widely distributed email where the author thanked a bunch of people for “breasting this tsunami project despite the aggressive timeline and other adverse conditions.”
I really have no idea how you would “breast a project,” so if anyone has any ideas about what that might mean, let us know…
I just knew there would be a slew of linguists lined up to analyze Obama’s performance today, and y’all didn’t disappoint.
Especially of note was the flub in the oath, specifically, the placement of “faithfully.”
Okay, fine. Someone screwed up. I personally couldn’t tell if it was Obama or Chief Justice Roberts who stumbled, so I’ll let the people who know what they’re talking about figure it out for me:
I was thinking about the word “hip” (as you do), and about the irony of such a decidedly unfashionable word for what the dictionary defines as “familiar with or informed about the latest ideas, styles, developments, etc.”
I’m not quite sure when exactly “hip” became a word your parents use to refer to something they don’t understand or recognize, but I’d like to think that the tipping point was Dr. Evil’s outcry in Austin Powers (”I’m with it. I’m hip. Tucka, Tucka, Tucka…Huhhhhh. Well don’t look at me like I’m freakin’ Frankenstein, give your father a hug.”).
The reality is probably a little more mundane. Words go in and out of fashion, and it’s hard to predict what will happen. I am personally amazed at the longevity of the word “cool.” How is it still ok to say that? Paris Hilton brought “That’s hot” back, so there’s one easy explanation, at least.
Other words have shorter seasons. The New York Times recently published a fantastic article about the buzzwords of 2008 – I bet “Caribou Barbie” is already forgotten, but words like “fail” and “staycation” are probably here to stay, for better or worse.
Back to “hip” though, and why I’m thinking about it (because I feel like I owe you an explanation). I always cringe when I see the programming summary that Comcast uses for The Daily Show: “Jon Stewart’s hip, irreverent skewering of the news and pop culture.” It bothers me because while irreverent is a perfect word to describe the show (”satirical, critical of what is generally accepted or respected”), hip is such a death sentence for coolness.
What other words for “cool” fell out of fashion? Am I missing anything?
During the holidays, Rian mentioned he was delaying his viewing of “A Charlie Brown Christmas” in favor of “The Terminator.” I told him that wasn’t very Christmassy. He said I was making up words.
Of course I was.
“Christmassy” is not something you’ll find in the dictionary (although my spell check doesn’t seem to have a problem with it). And though he pointed out “Christmassy” was a made-up word, he didn’t ask me what it meant. It was evident by the construction of the word I meant “The Terminator” did not have the qualities one would associate with Christmas (although he tried really, really hard to prove it does. He failed).
I’m okay with made-up words. I love playful language. “Christmassy” is, in fact, a word my sisters and I use often around the holidays when one of us is being particularly mean-spirited or negative (“You’re not being very CHRISTMASSY!”). It’s a funny word. It makes us laugh.
We never claimed it was a real word. But how much more fun is it to say, “You’re not being Christmassy” than it is to say, “You’re not exhibiting the kind of behavior one would associate with Christmas”? How much more descriptive is it to say “ginormous” than it is to say “both gigantic and enormous”? Isn’t the word “galumphing” better than “galloping triumphantly” (thank you, Lewis Carroll)? And if you are doing something in a funny way, I submit you are, in fact, doing it “funnily.”
This creative wordplay is different than using non-words such as “irregardless.” The distinction is in the intent of the speaker. In the first case, someone is constructing a new word using existing and familiar patterns to create a more descriptive visual. In the second case, the person just doesn’t know any better and should be smacked. When one introduces a new word, it’s best to come from a place of knowledge rather than a place of ignorance.
And now that I’ve reached the bottom of this post, I found this subject was discussed quite eloquently and thoroughly in the Boston Globe by Erin McKean. Instead of just deleting this post in disgust, I’ll just leave it up here as a hearty head nod in agreement.
This morning an interesting headline caught my eye on the New York Times web site:
In Final News Conference, Bush Strikes Elegiac Tone
(No, REALLY, this is a blog about language, not politics!)
I have to confess that I had no idea what “Elegiac” means, so I looked it up. The first definition I found was a little less than satisfactory:
Noting a distich or couplet the first line of which is a dactylic hexameter and the second a pentameter, or a verse differing from the hexameter by suppression of the arsis or metrically unaccented part of the third and the sixth foot.
Since this definition introduced more words that I don’t understand, it seemed like a step backwards in my quest for knowledge, so I ignored it. Instead of giving up though, I persevered and finally figured out what “elegiac” means:
used in, suitable for, or resembling an elegy.
expressing sorrow or lamentation: elegiac strains.
An elegy, as I’m sure you know, is “a mournful, melancholy, or plaintive poem, especially a funeral song or a lament for the dead.”
So coming back to the Times article – this headline strikes me as odd for two reasons:
No one died
Press conferences aren’t exactly poetic (See how I generalized? I told you this isn’t a political blog.)
Unless, of course, the author was aiming a little higher than the literal meaning of the word, and believes that President Bush was lamenting (in a sorrowful tone) the demise of his presidency in its final weeks. Well, yes actually, that sounds like a pretty plausible explanation. Which would make this blog post a little bit of a waste. But am I going to delete it? Not so much. (Don’t you hate question-talking? I do too.)
But then again, it may just be that the author’s Word thesaurus threw out “elegiac” as a synonymn for “sad”, and he was under a tight deadline which didn’t leave him time to look it up. You never know with these things.
No, really – this is not a political blog. It’s a language blog. But you can’t have politics without language, right? So this recent CNN report on “Bushisms” deserves a mention (if the video doesn’t work in Firefox, try it in Internet Explorer):
So I guess now is as good a time as any to mention Going Nucular, one of our favorite books on the use (and misuse) of the English language:
