Awful or Amazing? Awful or Amazing? Fathoming Changes to the

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Awful or Amazing?
Awful or Amazing? Fathoming Changes to the English Language
Sarah Rothman, Class of 2015
Ware College House
March 29, 2015
Sarah Rothman studies environmental science, with a focus in biology; she has explored this
interest outside the classroom through leading the Ware Sustainability Committee, conducting
research for the National Park Service, and volunteering at Antelope Park in Zimbabwe. Sarah
has also studied forensic science at the University of Otago in New Zealand.
Awful or Amazing?
The student took a few moments to peruse her notes before the exam was distributed.
Show of hands: who considers this sentence to be incorrect? If the Junto Society were the Usage
Panel of the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, about 66% of you would be
raising your hands if this were 1988, 58% were this 1999, and down to 48% were this 2011
(Curzan, 2014). Peruse, in its original definition, meant to read carefully, which would make the
above sentence oxymoronic, since she only took “a few moments” to read her notes. However,
most people in 2015 would think this sentence fine, since peruse is popularly used to mean skim
or scan. The American Heritage Dictionary compromised by including both definitions because,
in reality, it is not unusual for one word to have two opposing meanings.
In fact, a thorough perusal of the title of this paper reveals similar potential confusion.
Awful initially meant full of awe or admirable, and was presumably used to describe something
beneficial and desirable. However, a quick perusal by the modern reader would have it mean bad
or unappealing. Amazing, on the other hand, is the current way of saying incredible or
marvelous, although its original use was to connote perplexing or befuddling. Furthermore,
fathom was originally a unit of measurement that transformed to mean contemplate or think
deeply about, in other words, get to the bottom of, since it was used to measure the depths of the
ocean. So what is this paper really about? Measuring changes to the English language, and
determining whether those changes are great or bewildering? Or thinking deeply about whether
changes to the English language are terrible or wonderful? Interestingly, both interpretations
make sense, but only so long as we keep our frame of reference consistent.
Our understanding of the title of this paper depends upon the context of our time and
culture. The English language is malleable. Throughout time, modifications to our language have
received both condemnation and praise, which begs the question, when is something wrong and
when is it just different? One way to judge the value of an alteration is to assess whether it helps
or hurts effective communication, which is, ultimately, the reason for language. So we ask, does
this change act as an aid or a barrier to comprehension?
Changes can arise in several forms: acronyms or abbreviations can be used in place of
full words, old words can produce new amalgamations, or new words can be created altogether.
In each situation, mode of communication (spoken vs. written) and time dictate whether a change
is widely perceived as acceptable or unacceptable. This is important because our approval or
disapproval of transforming language affects more than the dictionary—language has the power
to shape our society as much as our society shapes language. This interplay is never so apparent
as when words remain the same but their corresponding definitions change. Overall, we find that
the mutability of the English language, in both form and function, holds society together as we
progress.
Since our primary lingual goal is understanding each other, we ought to love acronyms,
the champions of quick, effective communication. For instance, acronyms are essential in the
military and medical fields, in which saving a few seconds while delivering a message could
mean saving a life. For example, saying an incoming patient to a field hospital needs an OR for a
GSW tells others clearly and quickly that the patient needs an operating room for a gunshot
wound. Moreover, acronyms are not reserved for professional settings—a layperson uses the
same practice in the case of emergency, shouting Does anyone know CPR? rather than Does
Awful or Amazing?
anyone know cardiopulmonary resuscitation? Even when there is no emergency, it is simply
more convenient and less bulky to say or write FBI in lieu of Federal Bureau of Investigation,
for example.
This preference tends to disappear, however, when technology is involved. In early
texting where the abc key had to be pressed three times to get the letter c, acronyms saved time,
and yet were generally avoided in speech. Older generations that did not jump on the instant
messaging bandwagon, and younger generations that now have full keyboards where the letter c
is its own button, have less need for acronyms like brb, nmjc, or idk (be right back, not much just
chilling, or I don’t know, respectively). The use of these acronyms now, especially in spoken
language, would delay comprehension more often than accelerate it.
Abbreviations are similar to acronyms in usage in that they too can provide more
understanding in less time or space. As students, we frequently employ abbreviations: one is
much more likely to hear students proclaim themselves a soc, chem, anthro, psych, or bio major
than a sociology, chemistry, anthropology, psychology, or biology major.
However, abbreviations cannot always stand in so smoothly for the extended word. The
Oxford English Dictionary lists adv. as an abbreviation for adverb, advance, adventure, advice,
and advocate (and their associated forms). It’s no wonder adv. is not frequently used—if I said, I
need an adv., my listeners would not know whether I needed a descriptor, a raise, a quest, a bit of
guidance, or a sponsor. The use of the abbreviation would be a source of confusion.
While acronyms and abbreviations aid effective communication through simplification,
amalgamations improve comprehension by more completely expressing a complex idea. For
example, most of us have experienced the sensation of being so hungry, we are angry. It is a state
of being beyond mere hunger, so that the adjective hungry alone would not suffice, and to only
say we are angry does not tell our audience why. To say we are hangry, however, conveys in one
word that we are grumpy because we have not eaten in a while. The combination of these two
adjectives creates a story that neither could alone, and implies a causation that saying each word
sequentially but independently may not. By crafting a new word, we are elevating our audience’s
understanding of our message.
While hangry may be a more accurate way to describe our mood than either hungry or
angry separately, amalgamations are not always so elucidating. Irregardless, for example, a
blend between irrespective and regardless, is puzzling. Presumably, a user of irregardless means
both irrespective and regardless, synonyms for nevertheless and notwithstanding. However, the
addition of the prefix ir- to regardless actually negates the intended meaning, as ir- means nonor not. The final amalgamation, then, translates to with regard to; it overturns and contradicts the
intention, rather than contributing to the understanding each word could bring alone. In this way,
amalgamations sometimes degrade an audience’s comprehension.
As our society advances, old words in new forms are not always enough; new words must
be invented to describe new ideas. Consider the advent of the internet, which has brought us
words such as google (both as a noun and a verb). This is not to say that search engines would
not exist without the word google, but rather that this new word has come to clarify and specify a
Awful or Amazing?
new action. To look up could be physical or digital, and we would need more context to discern
the true meaning, but there is no ambiguity about what happened when something was googled.
To add clout to the idea of new words, think of internet-born phrases the same as any subspecialty terminology; nearly every professional field has built its own vocabulary as
necessitated by amassing knowledge. For example, the use of the word invasives in the fields of
ecology and biology has come to specify alien species that cause harm to an ecosystem.
Microsoft Word does not recognize invasive as a noun, only as a verb—traditionally, the noun of
invasive would be invader. However, this new word, invasives, serves a role invaders does not,
because it immediately makes clear both the context and the subject matter.
Of course, not all new words bolster comprehension. How many people here are familiar
with the phrase on fleek? Fleek is essentially a stand-in for point, as in the expression on point,
which is used to convey that something met high standards. On fleek does not serve to address
unique situations that on point cannot be applied to—they are interchangeable phrases. If it does
not serve to further clarify, and is not a word most people are familiar with, than its use in
conversation or writing is more likely to cause confusion than to increase precision.
Thus far, there have been two recurring factors determining whether a change is helpful
or hurtful to comprehension: form of communication and time. The value of an acronym or
abbreviation is often contingent on whether it is spoken in conversation or formally written
down. The use of GSW and anthro is generally more accepted verbally—the common convention
would have us write the original, full words—while brb and adv. are relegated to type, not
speech. Why are we so insistent on isolating different forms of language in theory when they are
inseparable in practice? As an example, the contraction could’ve (which itself is highly contested
as an acceptable word) sounds like could of spoken aloud, leading many to write the phrase this
way, rather than the original could have. Our efforts to maintain the written word separately and,
usually, more formally, than spoken word reveal what we consider to be more important in our
society; the common view is that slang in speech is a new style, but slang in writing is sloppy.
We treasure the written word, or, at least, our current form of the written word, which will
inevitably continue to change as it has already changed to develop into our modern version.
Time is the greatest factor in altering the English language as well as our acceptance of
those changes. After all, many of the words we take for granted today were invented by
Shakespeare, such as generous, radiance, or undress, and were likely received with as much
surprise and hesitation in 16th century as bestie, cunting, or selfie were when they were added to
the Oxford English Dictionary in 2014. Often, it is the addition of a word to the dictionary that
ends a debate over whether or not a word is ‘real’. It is ironic that the general public uses the
dictionary to settle the score, since the dictionary uses the general public to make decisions about
new additions. Anne Curzan, a language historian, English professor, and member of the Usage
Panel of the American Heritage Dictionary, explains that “[a new word] gets in because we use it
and we keep using it, and dictionary editors are paying attention to us. If you're thinking, ‘But
that lets all of us decide what words mean,’ I would say, ‘Yes it does, and it always has’”
(Curzan, 2014).
We no longer think or act the same way as we did 1,000, 100, or even 10 years ago, so
we need to update our language to keep up with our culture. The Dyke March is an exemplary
Awful or Amazing?
movement committed to this modernization. Their mission statement explains that “the dyke
march is inherently about reclaiming the word dyke. The use of that politically charged word is
purposeful; it’s about us harnessing all of the power that word holds and empowering ourselves,
families, lovers and friends” (Calgary Dyke March, 2015). Similar efforts are being undertaken
to change our usage of nigga, tranny, and fag, among others. Proponents of movements to
reclaim slurs reason that there is no power inherent in a given word; the power comes from the
hateful definition it is ascribed. Therefore, by changing the common definition, we remove that
word as a weapon in our vocabulary and continue to move toward equality by communicating
with compassionate words only.
It should be noted, however, that changing language to reflect our current society might
not always help us in this progressive goal. Feminism, as we discussed earlier this semester, has
transformed from its original definition of male and female equality, and is now commonly
thought to be a movement for female superiority. In this case, preserving the original meaning,
rather than changing it, is what is necessary for the movement to succeed.
For better or for worse, it is the popular definition, the common slang, the most
frequently used acronyms and abbreviations, that are ‘real.’ Most of the time, when a change is a
barrier to understanding rather than an aid, it is only because it is not yet commonly enough
used; when the change becomes widespread, it means that most people understand it. This unity
within a society with respect to language is crucial, because even if the new definition is contrary
to the original, so long as the majority of people are in agreement, we will still achieve effective
communication.
One must be careful not to overlook this qualifier: the majority of people. Not everything
an individual says or writes is correct just because language is flexible. As Oliver Kamm, an
editorial writer and columnist for the Times of London explains, “it is possible, of course, for us
to make errors…But it is not possible for everyone, or the majority of educated users of the
language, to be wrong on the same point at the same time. If it is in general use, then that is what
the language is” (Kamm, 2015). In other words, as long as everyone is wrong, everyone is right.
Therefore, grammar sticklers who lecture or lament that ultimate is used as a synonym
for best or extreme when it actually means last, with the justification that they are trying to
maintain clarity, may be wasting their time. No one signing up for the Ultimate Frisbee team
truly thinks he or she will be playing a casual game with the world’s last frisbee. Actor,
comedian, and writer Steven Fry detests these self-proclaimed guardians of language. “Pedants
will…claim,” he seethes, “with what I am sure is eye-popping insincerity and shameless
disingenuousness, that their fight is only for ‘clarity’. This is all very well, but there is no doubt
what ‘five items or less’ means…No, the claim to be defending language for the sake of clarity
almost never, ever holds water” (Fry, 2008).
This does not mean that we should abandon all standards; just as mode of communication
and time dictate whether a change can aid or impede comprehension, context dictates suitability.
Kamm asserts that “the real task of language instruction…should be to help people learn how to
address different types of audience at different sorts of occasions” (Kamm, 2015). Fry agrees,
and though he adores heterodox language, he acknowledges the need for convention: “You slip
Awful or Amazing?
into a suit for an interview and you dress your language up too…There is no right language or
wrong language any more than there are right or wrong clothes. Context, convention, and
circumstance are all” (Fry, 2008). The way we communally determine and obey levels of
decorum in language displays the value we bestow on people and events; when the expected
formality of our language changes in a given context, it is a marker of changes in our culture. We
collectively settle on these conventions to stay unified even as society changes.
For this reason, discussing changes to language is moot in both the original and popular
definition (debatable and pointless, respectively). Because dictionary editors base their decisions
on what we say and write, we are the authority on what “real” English is. We can invent, blend,
truncate, and invert. We can “yoke impossible words together for the sound-sex of it,” (Fry,
2008) so long as the majority shares our brainwave, and we can argue over what we want to turn
our language into. Yes, even rebel against rules banning dangling prepositions, because I’ll bet
no one was confused or outraged by the end of the previous sentence. And yet, discussing
changes to our language is also moot because of how large the majority is. Hundreds of millions
of hands and tongues implement and sculpt our language each day; a consensus among those in
this room on the practicality or impracticality of changes to our language will never be enough to
regulate the mutable nature of the English language. It will remain both within and beyond our
control.
Awful or Amazing?
Sources
Calgary Dyke March. (2015). Who We Are. Retrieved March 19, 2015, from
http://www.calgarydykemarch.com.
Curzan, A. (2014). What makes a word ‘real’? TedxUofM. University of Michigan, Ann Arbor,
MI.
Fry, S. (2008). Don’t mind your language…Retrieved March 19, 2015, from
http://www.stephenfry.com/2008/11/04/dont-mind-your-language…/
Kamm, O. (2015, March 14-15). There is no ‘proper English’. The Wall Street Journal, Review,
C3.
Awful or Amazing?
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