Doing the Right Thing, Down to the Last Detail
Lynne Murphy
M_Lynne_Murphy at BAYLOR.EDU
Thu Oct 14 00:04:14 UTC 1999
This story from The Chronicle of Higher Education
(http://chronicle.com) was forwarded to you from: M_Lynne_Murphy at baylor.edu
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The following message was enclosed:
The Chronicle of Higher Ed has reviewed the new NYT style
manual. Since this manual was the topic of discussion on the
list a while ago, I pass this on to you. (I believe that you
should be able to read this without a password. If not, I'll
try again.) Lynne
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Doing the Right Thing, Down to the Last Detail
By BEN YAGODA
Stop the presses. According to the just-published, "revised
and expanded edition" of The New York Times Manual of Style
and Usage, while "a conservative minority of authors and
teachers still object to the verb contact as business jargon,"
the usage not only is acceptable but also can be "valuable as
a terse synonym for get in touch."
Looking over that sentence, I wonder if I should have written
that the usage is not only acceptable but also can be
valuable. According to the entry under "not only ... but
also," "Constructions of this type require a balance. The
words that follow the first and second parts must be parallel
in form (two adjectives, for example, serving comparable
purposes): It would be not only unwieldy but also unworkable.
Note how the symmetry is lost when words are misplaced: It
would not only be unwieldy but also unworkable." Noted.
That is the way the manual (published by Times Books) tends to
function: One entry leads to another. That's partly why it is
about as readable a reference book as you are likely to come
across, especially if you are interested in the sundry
questions of accuracy, propriety, morality, and artfulness
that emerge from the mindful use of the English language.
The manual, which was compiled by Allan M. Siegal and William
G. Connolly, two editors of long standing at the Times,
belongs to a tiny subgenre in the reference category, the
stylebook. To understand what a stylebook is and why you might
need one, imagine that you are a newspaper editor and one of
your reporters hands in the following sentence: "The President
signed fifteen bills into law yesterday." The sentence is
clearly grammatically and orthographically correct, and you
trust your reporter enough to presume that the facts are
right, too. But as you stare at the words you begin to feel
that something is not quite right. Then you have it: It's that
"President." Should the word be capitalized or not? You type
it both ways, and each time it looks okay.
The stylebook rescues you from brooding on this issue all day
long. If you work for the Times, or if your paper follows
Times style ("style" in publishing being a term for language
rules and not for such matters as the use of adjectives and
literary tone), you turn to the entry under "Titles" and read,
"Lowercase titles except when they appear before full names."
(If you are a sharp editor, you also will have noted that
"fifteen" seems fishy, and so it is: The "numbers" entry
begins, "In general, spell out the first nine cardinal and
ordinal numbers.")
Ideally, style rules should have a logical basis, but
sometimes, inevitably, they're arbitrary. The important thing
is consistency. As Siegal and Connolly note in their foreword,
"there is little difference between a Martini and a martini,
but a rule can shield against untidiness in detail that might
make readers doubt large facts." (The Times opts for
"martini," by the way.)
The Times produced an in-house stylebook as early as 1895,
which was about the time journalism began to think of itself
as a profession, and thus to welcome the idea of a code of
standards. Like the Times, each newspaper of any size produced
its own stylebook -- although I should say the word "book"
gives the wrong impression of what were often messy stacks of
paper, covered with annotation over annotation, to the point
of illegibility. In the early 1960s (vide the newest Times
manual, page 101, though I'd really rather have written
"sixties"), both the Times and the Associated Press published
their stylebooks in editions available to the public. The
A.P.'s version has been kept up to date since then, but the
Times last updated its stylebook in 1976.
These books clearly appeal to newspaper editors, being
convenient replacements for the dog-eared stack of papers in
the newsroom, and also to anyone else responsible for getting
words into type in a consistent form. A lot of such people
seem to be out there. The most recent edition of The
Associated Press Stylebook and Libel Manual (Perseus Books)
recently ranked an impressive 347th on the amazon.com
universal best-seller list; the cover boasts, "More than
1,000,000 copies sold."
One can get a sense of the difference between the new edition
of the Times manual and the A.P. stylebook by comparing their
entries for the word "innocent." The A.P. recommends using it
in place of "not guilty," "to guard against the word not being
dropped inadvertently."
The Times: "In the American system, a defendant is presumed
innocent and therefore never needs to prove innocence; it is
guilt that must be proven, by the state. So a defendant's plea
(or a successful one's verdict) is not guilty rather than
innocent. The journalistic practice of writing innocent arose
from a fear of omitting not in typesetting. But the
distinction is worth preserving, even at the cost of an extra
moment to check the copy."
The Associated Press stylebook calls to mind a harried,
cigar-chomping editor who just wants to get the copy out fast
and right, while the Times's Manual of Style and Usage has a
professorial air, as it explores a word's or a phrase's
implications, then reaches judicious and cogent conclusions.
It is much more interested in the nuances of language, and it
is pervaded -- laudably, in my view -- by a sense of a great
newspaper's power, how that engenders a responsibility to be
fair, and how that, in turn, can and should be reflected in
nearly every published word.
The new edition is more than half again as long as the old,
with much of the new material reflecting the greater public
interest in general-usage matters. The overall stance is
conservative but not intractable. Siegal and Connolly give us
permission to use "data" as a singular and "none" as a plural,
and to boldly split infinitives. On the other hand, they are
keeping "media" plural -- "for now," they say -- and will not
abide "hopefully" as a synonym for "it is to be hoped." Under
"who, whom," they write, "Many dictionaries have relaxed the
distinction between these words, abandoning whom unless it
directly follows a preposition. But in deference to a
grammar-conscious readership and a large classroom
circulation, the Times observes the traditional standard."
Inevitably, many of the more eye-catching entries have to do
with social changes that had only recently come into play when
the last edition appeared, 23 years ago. That book advised
using "black" rather than "Negro," "although the latter [is]
acceptable in many contexts, both current and historical." In
1999, under the heading "African-American, black," the Times
advises, "Try to determine and use the term preferred by the
group or person being described."
That solicitous strategy, also prescribed in choosing between
"Ms." and "Miss" or "Mrs.," has got to be unwieldy for a
reporter with a deadline; it also seems to run counter to the
very principles behind a stylebook.
But one appreciates the Times for trying. In general, the new
manual and the newspaper itself get it right in seeking to
give respect and a voice to all members of society while
avoiding the excesses of a two-word term that will not be
uttered in this essay, but which the Times's manual describes
as "one of ironic disparagement, connoting excesses committed
in the name of sensitivity." (It adds: "In impartial news
copy, avoid applying the label, though it can be used in
discussion of the term itself.")
The 600-word entry for "men and women" is exemplary. To quote
the opening paragraph: "Times writing treats the sexes
equally. It reflects a society that no longer assigns roles or
occupations to men only or women only. Thus the copy shuns
stereotypes and assumptions. Thoughtful writing is also
un-self-conscious: It sidesteps offense without calling
attention to the pitfalls. It may, for example, cite spokesmen
and spokeswomen, but will refer to a mixed group as press
officers rather than use the ostentatiously desexed
spokespersons. Councilwomen and councilmen are, collectively,
council members, not councilpersons. A company installs a
four-member management team, not four-man but also not
four-person. When referring impersonally to anyone or someone,
the writer will find a construction that does not rely on his
or her but also resists the conspicuously plural they.
Example: The conductor asked whether anyone had lost a ticket
-- not his ticket or her ticket, and not their ticket."
And that is just the ticket. Among its many other virtues, the
new edition of The New York Times Manual of Style and Usage
shows how to maintain stylistic grace while still doing
justice to both halves of the human race.
Ben Yagoda is an associate professor of English at the
University of Delaware. His book About Town: The New Yorker
and the World It Made will be published in February by
Scribner.
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Copyright 1999 by The Chronicle of Higher Education
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