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March 1949 — Vol. 30, No. 3 —
On Making Ourselves
Understood
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It is a long way from the crude
hieroglyphics of primitive man, the smoke signals and marked
trees of the Indians, and the drums of the African jungle
to our modern daily newspaper and our business correspondence.
But through it all there are these main themes - the passing
on of knowledge, information and instruction, and the urge
and the need of man to communicate with his fellows.
All of us who read can be in touch with centuries of human
thought and with today's happenings in all parts of the world.
Because we have language, we are not limited for knowledge
to our own experience; we can profit by the experience of
all who have gone before us. It is language that has made
progress possible.
The spoken and written word is so familiar to us that we
often forget what a power for good or for evil, for uplift
or for insult, for clarity or for confusion it is. Words can
crush or console, inspire or destroy; they can lead to wars,
and they can be used to promote peace; they can increase sales
or drive away customers.
A World of Words
We live in a world of words, and very often these words
are all too "wild and whirling." We listen to so many words,
we read so many words, that we feel engulfed in verbiage;
we speak words, and most of us have to write words. Much of
what we write may be routine letters and reports, and we need
not aspire to Shakespearean or Voltairian heights. But the
least that we can do with words is to put them together so
that our readers understand us.
There are few ivory towers left today, and only a hermit
can disregard the advantages of using language well. Learning
to express oneself is a fundamental of education, the mark
of an educated man, and a necessity of business.
An article in Saturday Night said that most university
students in Canada improve their English while at the university,
but this, the article went on, is not gained so much by examinations
in the subject, as by contact with people who use good English.
More consideration is given to knowing the date of Pope's
Rape of the Lock or to the memorizing of Shakespeare's
soliloquies than to the quality of language used in writing
the examination paper.
Students in science, law, engineering and faculties other
than that of arts often grumble at being made to take courses
in self—expression through language. A little book written
by Professor R. de L. French, of " McGill University, called
Notes on Writing for Students in Engineering, tells
about the importance of good writing for professional men.
He says that engineering, even in its most technical and specialized
branches, is not a solitary profession. The engineer must
be articulate, and a thorough command of language is important
for two major reasons - because it is one of his professional
tools and because it is necessary if he is to associate with
others. Some universities in the United States are considering
making study of writing a compulsory part of every course.
In August, 1947, the Bureau of Technical Personnel, Department
of Labour, issued a survey of professional openings in Canada.
Out of 1,334 employers interviewed, the majority - 850 - believed
that there was a trend towards more free usage of university—trained
young men and women. But one of the 15 firms employing the
largest number of university graduates declared itself critical
of most graduates "because many can't properly express themselves,
either orally or in writing." If this is true of some university
graduates, how much more must it apply to those with less
education?
Languages Grow
Because language is as vigorous as a healthy oak tree, expanding
with the years, each age adds its own quota of new words and
phrases peculiar to its time. Every new invention, like television
today, brings with it a whole new vocabulary.
In 1846 the English dictionary contained only 47,000 words;
today it includes 450,000 words, an increase of 12 new words
a day. Milton knew 10,000 words; Shakespeare knew 15,000;
the Bible contains only 5,000 different words. Today there
are 30,000 kinds of butterflies, each with a different name.
At first a word imported from another language lives a lonely
life; its acceptance or rejection depends on the force of
public opinion, for, after all, language is a democratic institution.
If a word is accepted as part of our speech, it becomes changed
and coloured to suit our own peculiar needs.
Dean Swift attacked many words seeking admission into daily
speech. He condemned "banter", "bully", and "sham", and the
one which called forth his greatest rage was "mob", a contraction
of mobile vulgus. Public opinion prevailed, however,
and these words were absorbed into the English language. Lord
Wavell, in our time, has proposed setting up an authority
to decide what is worth preserving and what should be pilloried
in the way of words, but it would be a difficult and delicate
task to determine the fate of each one.
Jargon is a Menace
Sir Alan Herbert, M.P., one of the most valiant fighters
in the battle to preserve the best in English, says the language
is "bulging with words like bolsters, and phrases like feather
beds - fat Latin words like 'reconditioning'; phrases like
'the co—ordination of our economic resources.'" He goes
on to say: "we are entitled to suspect the character and competence
of any department, any party, any politician who stuffs the
public mind with woolly, knobbly, half—baked, flabby
and slushy words."
What Sir Alan is referring to is known by various names:
officialese, jargon, gobbledygook and Federal Prose are some
of them. Whatever you may call it, it means a written output
obscurely constructed, full of tiresome phrases, and encumbered
with many ill—chosen combinations of words. H. W. Fowler,
one of the editors of the Oxford Dictionary, defines
jargon as "ugly—sounding, hard to understand, made up
of technical terms, long words, and circumlocutions". Whatever
its name, it is flourishing in many of the communications
we receive daily, and perhaps we ourselves are sometimes guilty
of writing it.
We are more hesitant in conversation; words of whose pronunciation
we are not sure are replaced by shorter, more usual ones.
We do not drone out endless sentences, full of top—heavy
clauses, and obscure phrases. But we do seem to give in to
temptation when we have a blank sheet of paper in front of
us. The result is often a muddle of many—syllabled words
which display neither thought, vocabulary nor erudition, and
only serve to puzzle the reader.
Plain or Woolly?
Sir Ernest Cowers, a distinguished civil servant, was recently
asked by the British Government to write a short book on the
subject of simple English for British officials. He called
it Plain Words, and in it warns against the woolly
thinking, the circuitous phrases and the abstractions that
make up jargon. He deplores the increasing use of such things
as "it will be observed from a perusal" instead of "you will
see by reading"; "participate" for "join"; "assistance" for
"help", and so on. He disapproves of the invention of new
words for perfectly good old ones, like "global" for "world—wide",
"recondition" for "mend", and "terminate" for "end". Another
version of this last is the horrible "to finalize".
The habit of using abstract nouns as verbs is increasing.
"To contact", which excites Sir Alan Herbert to rage, is allowed
by H. L. Mencken, author of The American Language.
However, Mr. Mencken tells a good story against his own decision.
An official of the Western Union, he says, forbade the use
of "to contact" by employees of the company. This official
said: "So long as we can meet, get in touch with, make the
acquaintance of, be introduced to, call on, interview or talk
to people, there can be no apology for 'contact'."
In the January issue of Harper's Magazine, Jacques
Barzun, in commenting on the state of the language, quotes
as an example of jargon a warning to the British cotton industry:
"Unless all those working in the separate units are prepared,
when necessary, to take into account the interests not only
of the industry as a whole but also the broad interests of
the nation, unless there is readiness both to agree and implement
common policies when necessary for furthering such interests
- there is little chance of a satisfactory outcome from any
proposals." Mr. Barzun goes on to quote by way of contrast
an earlier, and more courageous piece of prose: "Gentlemen,
we must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang
separately", which is the gist of the more complicated statement.
The first leaves our feelings intact, and spares our imaginations,
a characteristic of jargon.
It has been remarked that, as the world has become more
cruel, language has become more mealy—mouthed. War has
become "hostilities", and torture "maltreatment". Eventually,
as G. K. Chesterton has suggested, murder may be described
as "life control".
Writing is inclined to ape science and technology by borrowing
their terms. Reports from social welfare and educational bodies
bulge with pseudoscientific terms. Unofficial people talk
glibly of controls, bottlenecks and allocations. The official
makes us lose colour, warmth and personality by referring
to us as personnel or individuals, not men and women. In turn,
we try to increase our own stature by being representatives
instead of salesmen. A rat—catcher in England proclaimed
himself to be a Rodent Operative!
Three Simple Rules
What can we do to purge our style of these growths which
take away so much from the spirit and purpose of language?
The first thing is to be aware that jargon exists, and to
be on our guard against it. Become indignant, suggests Sir
Arthur Quiller—Couch, when someone who should know better
writes to us: "as regards, with regard to, in respect of,
in connection with, according as to whether", and the like.
And, of course, never, never use such phrases in our own correspondence.
Secondly, have something to say and say it, as well and
as simply as you can. Imagine what the classic report of his
naval victory given by Admiral Perry would look like in modern
officialese. He said: "We have met the enemy and they are
ours". In today's officialese it would probably begin "after
effecting contact" and then lumber heavily onwards. Or put
Winston Churchill's famous phrase upon his appointment as
Prime Minister: "I have nothing to offer but blood, toil,
tears, and sweat" into jargon. It would likely start out "In
the event, I am compelled to say, subject only to ..."
and wind its way paragraph by paragraph to the ending which
would surely be "finalized".
Thirdly, over all you write should shine the pure light
of sincerity. Insincerity cuts the heart out of all writing
and speaking. You may marshal your arguments and concoct your
pretty devices of words, but if you do not believe what you.
say you are only a play—actor - a mere mummer reciting
your own lines - and don't deceive yourself into thinking
the reader will not know it.
It is widely acknowledged that the best rules for good writing
are set forth in a book by H. W. Fowler. Though he calls it
The King's English, its principles are equally good
in any language. He says: "Anyone who wishes to become a good
writer should endeavour, before he allows himself to be tempted
by the more showy qualities, to be direct, simple, brief,
vigorous, and lucid. This general principle may be translated
into practical rules in the domain of vocabulary as follows:
Prefer the familiar word to the far—fetched.
Prefer the concrete word to the abstract.
Prefer the single word to the circumlocution.
Prefer the short word to the long.
Prefer the Saxon word to the Romance.
"These rules", he added, "are given in order of merit: the
last is also the least".
Simplicity Pays
Rules like these cannot be kept separate; they overlap.
In using the familiar word, you are probably using the shorter
and more concrete word, and your readers will more readily
understand you. In using the concrete word we will be following
in the steps of Shakespeare. Sir Arthur Quiller—Couch
says: "no writer of English so constantly chooses the concrete
word, in phrase after phrase forcing you to touch and see".
Take as an example an announcement made by a modern master
of words on a very grave occasion. Mr. Churchill, in his broadcast
of June 17th, 1940, began: "The news from France is very bad".
He did not say "The position in regard to France is
extremely serious". He ended: "We are sure that in the end
all will come right". He did not end: "We have absolute
confidence that eventually the situation will be restored".
His words were chosen from the concrete, the short and the
familiar, and his great world—audience could quickly
and easily understand the exact situation.
Just the same, if a word with several syllables is familiar
to the reader, and is also expressive, writing will gain in
force and strength from its use. Words like "inspiration,
international, authentic" are not two syllable words, but
they are words to which we have become accustomed by seeing
them every day in newspapers and periodicals.
Anatole France remarked that there are three requisites
in all good writing. The first is clarity, the second is clarity
and the third is - clarity. Words are of no use except to
convey ideas. They are not posies to dress up vacancies of
thought...They must reveal. The man who uses many or obscure
words to explain a subject hides himself, like the cuttlefish,
in his own ink. Plain and simple speech appeals to everyone
because it shows clear thought and honest motives, and it
conveys the impression that the writer knows what he is talking
about. Also, in these days of rush and speed, it is a relief
for the busy man to read it.
Simplicity pays off in other ways. "Simple advertising costs
least and sells most", says Kenneth M. Goode in his book How
to Write Advertising. It is an established fact that some
of the slogans of one—syllable words are just about the
best reminder ads there are.
Other aids to readability are short paragraphs. The old—fashioned
paragraph was very long, almost an essay in itself. Short
sentences too, help the writer to think clearly and the reader
to grasp the meaning quickly. Marcel Proust deliberately used
long, long sentences in his novels to create a dream—world
atmosphere, but they have no place in the type of writing
we are discussing.
Punctuation is important. Dr. Rudolf Flesch, in The Art
of Plain Talk, calls it not a set of rather arbitrary
rules from school grammars, but "the most important single
device for making things easier to read". In business, and
in much of the writing done in the various professions, it
is necessary, to punctuate properly, because the principal
objective is clarity. Commercial documents may become involved
in litigation, and it has been said that once a lawsuit was
lost for want of a comma. Sir Edward Gowers tells us that
Sir Roger Casement might have escaped hanging but for a comma
in a statute of Edward III.
Good Business Letters
The bulk of business today is carried on by correspondence,
so one of its most necessary tools and most valuable opportunities
is the good business letter. Too often business letters are
encumbered with excess words and phrases, which rob the letter
of all human warmth and personality.
What a good business letter should be is explained by C.
W. Hurd in Business Correspondence, published by the
Alexander Hamilton Institute. He calls the essentials of business
correspondence the seven C's: Concrete, Candid, Courteous,
Clear, Complete, Concise, Correct. "Without these qualities",
says Mr. Hurd, "no letter can be credible, create confidence
or inspire interest". Nor, he might have added, will it bring
in orders.
Allowing for the more formal style of correspondence, the
closer the tone of a business letter approaches conversation
the better it is. In conversation our audience is all—important
and never lost sight of. Let's carry a little more of this
kind of awareness of a second party into our writing.
The first rule in writing a business letter is to remember
our reader, consider him, try to understand him, and see how
we can best serve him - and then write the kind of letter
we think he would like best to read. If a letter is helpful
and aimed at the reader's interests, and easy to read, he
simply cannot find it dull. A good business letter is an evidence
of good manners thinking of others and endeavouring to understand
them rather than yourself.
One might think that, with all these restrictions and restraints,
nothing will be left in our written output but the bare bones,
lacking in colour and style. It is not so. Good writing is
born out of a free choice of words, and does not arise from
the merely mechanical arrangement of words. The choice of
this word rather than that, by artistry of the writer, may
paint vivid pictures for the reader of what you are trying
to say.
Arrangement is, of course, important, but if the right words
alone are used, they generally have a happy knack of arranging
themselves. Matthew Arnold said: "People think that I can
teach them style. What stuff it all is. Have something to
say and say as clearly as you can. That is the only secret
of style". In a recent interview, W. Somerset Maugham, the
master storyteller, was asked what style he would recommend
for a writer. His answer was: "To write simply and clearly
has been my own purpose, and one has to work very hard at
it".
Here is a Standard
A useful little book for those who wish to write clearly
and forcefully is The Art of Plain Talk by Dr. Rudolf
Flesch. In small space, this volume helps to teach the reader
how he may write in plain style, and then, having written,
how he may measure how difficult the reader is going to find
what he has written. By a simple formula, it takes into account
the length of sentences, the number of affixes, and the number
of personal references. Dr. Flesch says that shorter sentences,
fewer affixes, such as pre—, im—, de—, etc.,
and more personal references, such as names, pronouns and
words that refer to human beings, make for greater readability
in your writing.
Dr. Flesch takes as a middle point on the scale of Reading
Difficulty the point he calls "Standard", the level of such
writing as may be found in Reader's Digest. "Standard"
is easy reading for almost everyone and even those who are
used to more difficult material are happy to see "Standard".
It is a saver of time, temper and money.
"Standard" sets as its ideal these qualities: sentences
averaging 17 words in length; approximately 37 affixes per
100 words; and about 6 personal references per 100 words.
It may be of interest to mention here that our Monthly Letters
are frequently tested by the Flesch formula, and that they
maintain a fairly consistent level of "Standard". There are
advertising departments which obtain a "Flesch rating" on
all their copy before it goes to press.
The other side of the picture is revealed in a new and amusing
little book called Federal Prose: How to Write in and/or
for Washington. This is mentioned just in case you are
interested in obtaining a mastery or even a working knowledge
of how to write jargon. The two authors, trained at Harvard,
went to work for the United States Government in Washington
during the war, and soon found themselves writing a new language
- one known to the specialist as Federal Prose. In their amusingly
illustrated book they examine the rules and qualifications,
the spirit and essence of this sort of writing, with many
translations of English into Federal Prose.
They go on to say, however, that Federal Prose is not confined
solely to Government: "it occurs in various other products
of semantic art; in the writings and oral utterances of sociologists
and educators, in the iridescent commentaries of theologians,
in the texts of insurance policies, in reviews of plays and
concerts, in advertisements of motor vehicles, novels, and
tomato soup".
Both Languages Affected
In an address to McGill students last autumn, Dr. H. N.
Fieldhouse, dean of the Faculty of Arts and Science, advised
his listeners to return to the short and vivid language of
Swift and the Bible. "One of the first signs of education,"
he said, "is the use of short, expressive English instead
of the muddled jargon of eight syllables which reflects a
muddled mind."
We in Canada are in a vulnerable position. Both official
languages are subject to many outside influences - the United
States radio, press, advertising, and movies all have their
impact on us. We cling to many French and British traditions
and forms in our daily life, and there is evidence of this
in our speech and our writing. We are in a position to keep
the best of the new expressions and to reject the worst. We
can keep our languages alive, strong and useful, while guarding
their fineness in the great tradition, pure, clear and flavoured
with imagination and the traits of our own nationality.
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