TaleCatcher - Tracy Kenny's blog

A case for the passive

All good writing advice says to use the active voice instead of the passive. I couldn't agree more - indeed, as I have recently blogged, I believe it can be the first step toward personal and organisational transformation.

So I am always very curious to find the odd instance where the passive is just more appropriate.

At Norwich railway station this morning there were apology notices up on the timing boards regarding the disruption to the Colchester service yesterday, as 'someone was killed on the track.'

It's already quite direct language, and given the subject and the potential effect of this message on passengers, there might be a case for a bit of softening - maybe 'There was a fatality on the line.' (Notice though the de-humanising effect of calling them a 'fatality' instead of 'someone.')

How much worse would the active voice make it though? To step up and take ownership - which is what using the active voice is about - would make a message like 'We killed somebody on the track.'

Sometimes there is a case for using the passive. Incidentally, it is always interesting to see how little compassion there is amongst passengers when there is a fatality. Usually there is someone in the crowd who will comment about how the victim should've chosen a better time, that it's really insensitive to kill yourself during the commuters' morning/evening rush.

A bit more on whether it matters

I betrayed my passion for the old grammar rodeo in an entry earlier today. Now I've revealed my guilty pleasure, I'll keep my 'grammar anorak' on for a bit longer :-)

So during the BBC piece I noticed that the beeb itself failed to notice one more 'mistake' in its final sample: there wasn't a full stop at the end of the second sentence in the last example.

See some things don't just come down to rules. Some of it's cultural. Some of it's historical. And some is just the language shifting. A quick note on each:

Culture: The BBC example might not be considered wrong. In North America, one always, always completes a sentence (an independent clause, if you like) with a full stop, no matter what. In British English, it is rather less strict, particularly in a bulleted list. This is in educated communities as well as amongst the uncertain. I'm not sure of the cause of this one. I am very happy to admit my ignorance and would love a discussion if anyone knows more!

Interestingly, many Brits put a full stop after everything, even after each line of an address. The best I can make out from this one is that it's a result of poor education - apologies to all I've observed and learned from, but I have actually heard you repeating your teachers' instruction to end every line with a full stop.

History: Some people say you should neither end a sentence with a preposition, nor split an infinitive. Sticking to these 'rules' produces two famous corruptions of statements:

'To go bodly where no man has gone before'

'Ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put. '

The latter is attributed to Winston Churchill.

You can see how silly it looks. You don't have to follow these rules. They were introduced by the Latin-loving educated classes during the 19th century. True, gritty, Germanic English ought to happily split infinitives all over the place.

Language shifting: If we use a word or phrase to mean something, we all understand its meaning, and we communicate with it on a regular basis, does it matter if we're using it incorrectly? At some point the dictionary meaning becomes obsolete. There's a big debate about whether the dictionary should be prescriptive or descriptive. The role of the communicator is more about getting the point across than about trying to educate the audience about how words ought to be used.

'Inflammable' is a good example of this. It actually means 'capable of catching fire' - as in 'inflame'. And yet 'flammable' means the same thing. Because of langauge shifting, we try to put our modern 'in-' prefix on it to create the opposite, when 'inflame' is already a word in its own right.

'Not flammable' is the opposite of flammable, and of inflammable.

It isn't clear, is it? When it's a burning (or not burning) matter, who's got time to look it up in the dictionary?

So all this to say...

The rules aren't as clear as you'd like them to be. Even Oxford and Cambridge have their own schools of thinking on some issues (such as 'single' or "double" quote marks).

But even though there are a few loose threads, the rules are clear and committed, and even used corrected by toddlers just learning the language. Observing the rules isn't just being pedantic. Learning them and how to play within them can be hugely liberating, and we should love them and use them. Beyond that, the only real rule I advocate is to be clear: so if a rule gets in the way of people understanding your point, by all means break it. In the end you are trying to connect with your audience. Don't put stumbling blocks in the way.

Does it matter?

On BBC Breakfast this morning they were talking about punctuation, spelling, and grammar, and asking the question, 'Does it matter?'

Really quickly:

Yes. It does matter, because it forms the basis of people's impression of you.

It's the same as going out: are you just popping out to the shop ten minutes before they close to get some milk? Then go in your track suit bottoms, trainers, and manky hair, by all means.

The writing equivalent goes like this:

Are you just scribbling a note or email to a very familiar friend to say you've gone to get the milk, or similar?

Then misspell away. The tea needs making. Go! Rush! Get the milk.

But. If you are going out to a fancy party, or a job interview, or just out into town, you need to think more carefully about your appearance.

Same with your writing. Think more carefully, if it will betray a negative impression of you.

It's the same as going out with your flies open, or your skirt tucked in your knickers. You just wouldn't go out without looking in the mirror.

If your writing is full of mistakes, people will think you are lazy, uneducated, disinterested, and you don't know what you're talking about. Or worse.

However: don't get so fussy about punctuation and grammar and stuff that you miss out on the genuine-ness and heart and emotion of what someone is offering you with their writing. Would you chuck an apology back in the writer's face, saying 'You cretin, don't you know that when it + s has no apostrophe when it's possessive?!'

By the way: I was the one who went to Waitrose in the night for milk, after travelling for 36 hours. Turns out this poshest of supermarkets was having an after-hours card-holders' soiree, with wine tasting, flower arranging, fish monger demonstrations, the lot. I was too embarrassed to stay and get the milk. 

And this: learn your rules. Then you know absolutely whether you are right or wrong, you learn a great deal about playing the language, and when someone tries to correct you, you can get your little copy of Fowler's out and turn it into a curious pursuit to find out more, together.

Write your way better

Sometimes I come across something I know and say all the time, live by even, and others act like it's completely new. Today I pointed out a nominalisation to a group of talented communicators, and nobody knew what I was talking about.

Now, reflecting on the train, I've been reading in a very well-respected (and well-paid) copywriter and tone of voice expert's book, and he completely missed the point on the same subject. More on him another time.

For now, let's use his words:

'Network distribution management'

It's a mouthful and it doesn't mean very much, though we've spoken this language long enough to get it. But why is it such a mess? And why does it matter?

'Network' is the only true noun here. The other two are verbs (action words) that have been made into nouns (thing words). They've been killed.

Let's get out the grammar defibrillator and see if we can revive them:

'Network distribution management'

The '-ment' on the end of 'management' is a symptom. Take it off, it becomes:

Manage

Same with the '-tion' on 'distribution'. Take it away, you get:

Distribute

Now you've got two living verbs, pulsing away without the body of a sentence to keep them alive in. But now you've got them, you get a handle on what you're really on about, and you might even write your way into some decisions and ownership:

Manage
Distribute
Network

You might not keep them all as verbs, but the exercise forces you to think clearly about what it is you want to say. You could end up with something like this:

'We must find a new way to manage our network if we're going to distribute aid to those who need it most.'

Using the previous version would have almost forced a weak verb and a cop-out of a statement:

'Network distribution management is important...'

With big strong active verbs, all of a sudden you're making a statement, and finding someone ('we must') to own them. Saying something that can make a difference.

It makes you stop and think: can I stand behind this? Because suddenly your comment has muscles and power.

You can keep using safe words that neither call to attention or cause attention. No one will notice them, because they are what everyone expects to see.

Or you can put life into your words.

For me, if you do not write to see something happen, you are missing the point, and missing out on what the act of really writing can do for you.

Ps if you want to talk split infinitives, ending a sentence with a preposition, or my use of the '-tion' word 'nominalisation', we can have that chat. :-)

Grammar rodeo and all that

I notice I have a category on this blog called 'Grammar rodeo.' I ought to explain...

Yes it is because I can get carried away by a debate about language, its variations, and the dots and squiggles that we drop through its written version. I'm the one in the office who they'd ask their 'who and whom' questions. That is, to whom they'd ask their who and whom questions. Or whether it's practice or practise that makes perfect.

And grammar stuff does make me laugh. I'm not a balaclava-wearing, spray-paint-toting member of the Apostrophe Preservation Society or anything. I'm pretty relaxed, because I believe language should be about getting a point across first, and not a mission for its own sake.

   'Grammar rodeo' is actually one of my favourite phrases from the Simpsons. In the episode 'Bart on the Road,' Bart Milhouse, Nelson and Martin use Bart's fake credit card to hire a car and go to Knoxville, Tennessee to see the Sunsphere. Now this is just next door to where I spent a good many years growing up, so it warrants a picture. 

Since Knoxville's a long way from Springfield (wherever that is), the boys tell their families they're going to the National Grammar Rodeo. I must admit my heart skipped a beat when I heard mention of it... 'I must go! What do I wear?' As Lisa's did, when she complained she hadn't been selected to represent their school.

Do you remember the rest of the story? The advert for the Sunsphere turned out to be from the 1982 World's Fair, and since then the Sunsphere had fallen on hard times and was now called the Wigsphere. Nelson chucks a stone at it and knocks it over, 16,000 unsold wigs spill, and Bart ends up delivering organs to try to get them all back home again.

There's more that's closer to home in that episode (and I don't just mean Cletus and his family), but I'll save that for another time.

Y'all come back now, ya hear?

Let me outta here

Have a look at this - a prisoner was released from a Kentucky psychiatric facility when his friend sent a fax authorising his release - from a grocery store fax machine. They didn't catch the mistake for two weeks. And they excused their behaviour, as well as they could, by saying it's not uncommon for court orders to have loads of spelling mistakes.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/6583043.stm

Kentucky's not that far from home. I despair.