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this actually is aimed towards any linguistic folk who read my tumbly

ironstring:

i found myself in an embarrassingly long argument last night with a rather genial fellow from my dorm, who, like so many before him, called himself a “grammar nazi” and sent my brain twitching.

descriptivist/prescriptivist arguments are the only ones i ever pursue, if only because of the fact that outside of linguistic circles, descriptivists are a tiny minority and no one really knows the philosophy exists, or anything about linguistics for that matter. and i live in a dorm that houses a writer’s program, which means that i live exclusively with people who know a lot of rules about writing but have never had to think about the rules themselves. which isn’t to say that i’m an authority; my education is extremely elementary, but even an elementary education in linguistics is more than what most people ever attempt to possess.

anyway, he was a worthy adversary, and he brought up a lot of questions i didn’t have a good answer for. the main questions — largely centered in standardization in american schooling — were as follows:

  1. should public schools devote time towards educating children about various widespread minority dialects. (we both eventually agreed on this)
  2. regardless, should all students be forced to adhere to the merriam-webster standard? is it possible to have a fair grading system if students have free reign to write academic papers in different dialects? does forcing standardized language on children not put minority-dialect speakers at a disadvantage?
  3. and if a standard should be forced, why one dialect over another? “we’re the majority,” he says, to which i say “what about when our dialect becomes the minority?” if AAVE (for example) became the most-used dialect in the country, would papers have to be graded by the AAVE “standard”? why the hell not?
  4. [omitted]
  5. [omitted]
  6. [omitted]
  7. what about actually significant academic papers in the fields of medicine and science? should a scientific journal be allowed dialectal freedom? what about medicine, where situations can be “matters of life and death”? he brought up a hypothetical: a patient needs to take their prescribed medicine lest they die, but because the doctor writes it in a minority-dialect, the pharmacy misunderstands it. though i realize now that it’s kind of silly when doctors stereotypically have incomprehensible handwriting as it is, airline food.

with many of these, i’m still not entirely sure what to think. so i’m gonna do that question-box thing and let everyone else think for me?

David Foster Wallace wrote an article about descriptivism vs prescriptivism, and while he mangles some of the finer details about descriptivism and strangely argues for prescriptivism while writing in his characteristic verbose and gymnastically non-standard style, he crystallizes what’s at stake. In the relevant section, he discusses how he makes his students go through grammar bootcamp:

The real truth, of course, is that SWE [Standard Written English] is the dialect of the American elite. That it was invented, codified, and promulgated by Privileged WASP Males and is perpetuated as “Standard” by same. That it is the shibboleth of the Establishment and an instrument of political power and class division and racial discrimination and all manner of social inequity. These are shall we say rather delicate subjects to bring up in an English class, especially in the service of a pro-SWE argument, and extra-especially if you yourself are both a Privileged WASP Male and the Teacher and thus pretty much a walking symbol of the Adult Establishment. This reviewer’s opinion, though, is that both students and SWE are better served if the teacher makes his premises explicit, licit and his argument overt, presenting himself as an advocate of SWE’s utility rather than as a prophet of its innate superiority.

There is nothing innately superior about Standard Written English except that not using it certain contexts hamstrings you, marking you as one who doesn’t speak the establishment’s language. Crucially, language educators need to tell students this fact.

More compellingly, DFW reproduces a spiel he claims to have given to some of his black students (who did not speak in the prestige dialect), and DFW “let’s get real” attitude is revealing:

I don’t know whether anybody’s told you this or not, but when you’re in a college English class you’re basically studying a foreign dialect. This dialect is called Standard Written English. … From talking with you and reading your essays, I’ve concluded that your own primary dialect is [one of three variants of SBE common to our region]. Now, let me spell something out in my official Teacher-voice: The SBE you’re fluent in is different from SWE in all kinds of important ways. Some of these differences are grammatical — for example, double negatives are OK in Standard Black English but not in SWE [tristan: It’s concord negation, not a “double negative”. The latter term is “loaded” and inaccurate.], and SBE and SWE conjugate certain verbs in totally different ways. Other differences have more to do with style — for instance, Standard Written English tends to use a lot more subordinate clauses in the early parts of sentences, and it sets off most of these early subordinates with commas, and, under SWE rules, writing that doesn’t do this is “choppy.” There are tons of differences like that. How much of this stuff do you already know? [STANDARD RESPONSE: some variation on “I know from the grades and comments on my papers that English profs don’t think I’m a good writer.”] Well, I’ve got good news and bad news. There are some otherwise smart English profs who aren’t very aware that there are real dialects of English other than SWE, so when they’re reading your papers they’ll put, like, “Incorrect conjugation” or “Comma needed” instead of “SWE conjugates this verb differently” or “SWE calls for a comma here.” That’s the good news — it’s not that you’re a bad writer, it’s that you haven’t learned the special rules of the dialect they want you to write in. Maybe that’s not such good news, that they were grading you down for mistakes in a foreign language you didn’t even know was a foreign language. That they won’t let you write in SBE. Maybe it seems unfair. If it does, you’re not going to like this news: I’m not going to let you write in SBE either. In my class, you have to learn and write in SWE. If you want to study your own dialect and its rules and history and how it’s different from SWE, fine — there are some great books by scholars of Black English, and I’ll help you find some and talk about them with you if you want. But that will be outside class. In class — in my English class — you will have to master and write in Standard Written English, which we might just as well call “Standard White English,” because it was developed by white people and is used by white people, especially educated, powerful white people. [RESPONSES by this point vary too widely to standardize.] I’m respecting you enough here to give you what I believe is the straight truth. In this country, SWE is perceived as the dialect of education and intelligence and power and prestige, and anybody of any race, ethnicity, religion, or gender who wants to succeed in American culture has got to be able to use SWE. This is How It Is. You can be glad about it or sad about it or deeply pissed off. You can believe it’s racist and unjust and decide right here and now to spend every waking minute of your adult life arguing against it, and maybe you should, but I’ll tell you something: If you ever want those arguments to get listened to and taken seriously, you’re going to have to communicate them in SWE, because SWE is the dialect our country uses to talk to itself. African Americans who’ve become successful and important in U.S. culture know this; that’s why King’s and X’s and Jackson’s speeches are in SWE, and why Morrison’s and Angelou’s and Baldwin’s and Wideman’s and West’s books are full of totally ass-kicking SWE, and why black judges and politicians and journalists and doctors and teachers communicate professionally in SWE. Some of these people grew up in homes and communities where SWE was the native dialect, and these black people had it much easier in school, but the ones who didn’t grow up with SWE realized at some point that they had to learn it and become able to write in it, and so they did. And [INSERT NAME HERE], you’re going to learn to use it, too, because I am going to make you.

Obviously, DFW is brutally honest and kind of insensitive here, but compared to many language mavens, he’s quite progressive! He acknowledges how SWE is not inherently better—he’s not saying it’s more rational or clearer or more logical—and this is a good thing. He says point-blank that it’s a pay-to-play system, and yes it’s not fair to non-standard (better: innovative) dialects.

I once wrote a paper about an approach to teaching writing style that’s informed by descriptivism. My main argument was that we should downplay the importance of the codified “rules” of style and acknowledge that style manuals have very little to do with the real rules of grammar and actually serve more as “style” guides in the sense of a guide for business attire and etiquette. Continuing this “fashion” analogy, we should tell our students that there are advantages and risks to individualized style, even though what we wear for work and what we wear in informal settings may be quite different! Generally, we ought to dress for the occasion according to the standards of the vocation—at some point I will have to learn to tie a tie. Does this crush or smother our identities? I’d have to think more about the anthropology of business attire. But let’s not underestimate a language speaker’s power to code-switch or accommodate their interlocutors.

With respect to (7), doctors wear labcoats or scrubs or whatever—it’s a uniform that they wear and the uniform means that they are not being themselves but are serving a specific role. I expect the language of a medical professional to be similarly uniform—certainly, they can level with me and get real and talk my language—but for profession-internal communication and information recording, it needs to be intelligible for their peers, some of whom may not speak English natively. That said, I do hope that people like Dr House who get all non-standardy and metaphorical and speak the language of primetime television-viewers do exist IRL.

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Give me a break, frontpage. The post about irregardless gives a completely vacuous justification:

-less already indicates “a lack of”, so adding ir- is redundant.

In terms of morphological composition, you could still have a cromulent word in “[irregard]less” (a lack of “irregard”) which would make the -less irredundant.
The truth is, we’re dealing with negation, and once you start playing with negatives, all bets for logical composition are off. For instance, many dialects and older variants of English employ concord negation where the presence of one negative particle sets off a bunch of negative switches. “I ain’t never…” etc. Then, you also run into over- and undernegation where people trip up with negation:
“As for the site, I’m going to try to get back    on track with updating soon, but don’t be surprised if the new story doesn’t    debut as late as April.” (*)
“To date, he’s held 118 (and counting) jobs, from missionary to garbage commissioner to grease salesman to fortune cookie writer, which wouldn’t be such a damning statistic had almost none of them been particularly funny.” (*)
“You guys never fail to disappoint me.” (*)
And then you have a whole field of syntax dedicated to negative polarity items. NPIs pose a question about whether certain words require some form of negation:
I don’t give a fuck.
I never gave a fuck.
I might not give a fuck.
(?) I give a fuck.
(?) I always gave a fuck.
(?) I might give a fuck.
Ask me if I give a fuck.
Do you give a fuck?
I seldom give a fuck.
(?) He failed to give a fuck.
Once you start studying negation, you immediately observe that (a) people don’t use negation in accordance to principles of logical negation, (b) people often use it to intensify statements even if they are already negated, and (c) your brain immediately turns to mush once you start trying to parse statements with three or more negations, especially if you throw in soft negations like “seldom”, “rarely” or “fail to”.
So while the justification about “irregardless” makes sense in its own little way (two negatives make a positive!), it’s blind to the complexities and nuances of natural language negations.

Give me a break, frontpage. The post about irregardless gives a completely vacuous justification:

-less already indicates “a lack of”, so adding ir- is redundant.

In terms of morphological composition, you could still have a cromulent word in “[irregard]less” (a lack of “irregard”) which would make the -less irredundant.

The truth is, we’re dealing with negation, and once you start playing with negatives, all bets for logical composition are off. For instance, many dialects and older variants of English employ concord negation where the presence of one negative particle sets off a bunch of negative switches. “I ain’t never…” etc. Then, you also run into over- and undernegation where people trip up with negation:

  • “As for the site, I’m going to try to get back on track with updating soon, but don’t be surprised if the new story doesn’t debut as late as April.” (*)
  • “To date, he’s held 118 (and counting) jobs, from missionary to garbage commissioner to grease salesman to fortune cookie writer, which wouldn’t be such a damning statistic had almost none of them been particularly funny.” (*)
  • “You guys never fail to disappoint me.” (*)

And then you have a whole field of syntax dedicated to negative polarity items. NPIs pose a question about whether certain words require some form of negation:

  • I don’t give a fuck.
  • I never gave a fuck.
  • I might not give a fuck.
  • (?) I give a fuck.
  • (?) I always gave a fuck.
  • (?) I might give a fuck.
  • Ask me if I give a fuck.
  • Do you give a fuck?
  • I seldom give a fuck.
  • (?) He failed to give a fuck.

Once you start studying negation, you immediately observe that (a) people don’t use negation in accordance to principles of logical negation, (b) people often use it to intensify statements even if they are already negated, and (c) your brain immediately turns to mush once you start trying to parse statements with three or more negations, especially if you throw in soft negations like “seldom”, “rarely” or “fail to”.

So while the justification about “irregardless” makes sense in its own little way (two negatives make a positive!), it’s blind to the complexities and nuances of natural language negations.

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sarahchristine:

boutofcontext:

Rebecca Dana sums up the latest in an epochs-long, inconsistently waged war for phonetic spellings, warmed over anew by the National Spelling Bee press coverage:

A fyoo duhzen ambishuhss intelectchooals, a handful ov British skool teechers and wuhn rokit siuhntist ar triing to chang the way we spel.

While this scheme has flaws, such as extant dialectal pronunciation tics, it would flatten the on-ramp to fluency. Still, I think there’s something… for lack of a better term, romantic, about our hodgepodge English tongue, gently frayed by time, geographic dispersion and vernacular encroachments - that merits unobtrusive cultivation.

How am I going to feel superior to people because of my amazing spelling ability if we bother to spell phonetically?

Ugh. Never mind that English spelling encodes with it important etymologically and phonological cues. For instance, in a lot of Western U.S. dialects, the words “caught” and “cot” are pronounced identically, while in my Wisconsin dialect, the difference is strictly maintained. How would we standardize this pronounciation difference? Better yet, why would we want to lose this important clue about the history and development of U.S. English?

And there is the fact that English is essentially a global lingua franca and that language reforms are incredibly difficult endeavors. International politics and trade along with entire fields in science, academics and technology all use English because it’s the language that connects you to most people across the world (or the most people that matter in those fields). Consequently, there will be no Great Global Spelling Reform. Whatever changes that take place will be regional and dialectal, and regional legitimization is not an easy process. Indeed, the standardization process essentially requires four stages: selection (of the spelling convention), adaptation (use by writers and speakers), documentation (recording of the variation in dictionaries) and full-scale adaptation (governmental, institutional usage). As we can see, it takes a long-term community-based effort to make linguistic reforms, and from this perspective, English spelling reforms are little more than pipedreams, despite their accommodating intentions.

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sarahchristine:

dailymeh:

Nik’s rendering of George Orwell’s famous rules for writers, from Politics and the English Language. These aren’t Orwell’s exact rules. For instance, he says never to use technical, foreign or jargon (which need not be technical) phrases, if you can think of an everyday English equivalent. Obviously there will be times when you can’t. Similarly, he says to never use a metaphor, “simile, or other figure of speech”, which you are used to seeing in print.
They are certainly in the spirit of Orwell, though. Take note, obscurist writers. You’re not impressing anyone.


This reduces the classic essay on bad (academic) writing to a list of proscriptive maxims. Here is why this list is problematic to me: maxim (2) overlooks the special connotations of big words and the existence of short difficult words; maxim (3) is too broad, denying special cases where exceptions are inevitable and preferable; plus, it overlooks oddball cases like middles and inherently passive verbs; maxim (4) is inchorent and outlandish given the essentially necessity of foreignisms in political contexts; moreover, it ignores that jargon usually serves as shorthand for complicated ideas; and maxim (5) is impossible.
I think Grice’s principles are better guides for writing (expect a later post).

sarahchristine:

dailymeh:

Nik’s rendering of George Orwell’s famous rules for writers, from Politics and the English Language. These aren’t Orwell’s exact rules. For instance, he says never to use technical, foreign or jargon (which need not be technical) phrases, if you can think of an everyday English equivalent. Obviously there will be times when you can’t. Similarly, he says to never use a metaphor, “simile, or other figure of speech”, which you are used to seeing in print.

They are certainly in the spirit of Orwell, though. Take note, obscurist writers. You’re not impressing anyone.

This reduces the classic essay on bad (academic) writing to a list of proscriptive maxims. Here is why this list is problematic to me: maxim (2) overlooks the special connotations of big words and the existence of short difficult words; maxim (3) is too broad, denying special cases where exceptions are inevitable and preferable; plus, it overlooks oddball cases like middles and inherently passive verbs; maxim (4) is inchorent and outlandish given the essentially necessity of foreignisms in political contexts; moreover, it ignores that jargon usually serves as shorthand for complicated ideas; and maxim (5) is impossible.

I think Grice’s principles are better guides for writing (expect a later post).

Tags: scriptivism
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The straight dope on discourse-oriented uses of that/which as in “You talk too much, which bothers me.” I never realized that people discouraged these; indeed, I’m a big fan of using summative which to start sentences as in (arbitrary example) “There are too many self-proclaimed language experts out there. Which is a problem…”.

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"Anyone who pronounces “Cannes” as “Caines” should probably kill them self."

— A case of Singular-They surfacing as a reflexive pronoun. Bonus for being delivered during a moment of Word Rage.