Humpty Dumpty’s Hullabaloo
Stuart Froman
In “Shut Your Loophole,” Slate’s Jack Shafer goes ballistic on the word “loophole,” examining its etymology, complaining about its misuse, and calling for a ban by journalists.
He complains that “this perfectly useful term has been corrupted by rhetorical con artists to mean terrible ‘gaps’ in the law—or in the tax code—that demand ‘closing.’”
He says “It’s a loaded, partisan word, one that implies wrongdoing and scandal where none exists, and inserting it into a political argument gives the inserter the upper hand. When loophole creeps into news stories, they start to read like editorials.”
Wow. What a great word. And while the “corruption” of loophole is probably worse than Shafer describes (now used when an incomplete law fails to address behavior in violation of the intent of the law, which may explain some of the headlines he complains about), focusing on etymology misses the point.
In commenting on the Shafer article, Roger Shuy at Language Log concludes, “Geez, language is complicated, but that’s why it’s so much fun.”
The line is delivered as a humorous exit point but suggests the real issue here. Using language precisely is a constant challenge for even the most experienced writers (especially those writing under deadline). Most of us don’t have time to consult the ever-growing list of words that someone somewhere says we can’t use (Dan Santow at Word Wise has spent a lot of time on this recently), and doing so wouldn’t solve the problem anyway (Language Log introduces us to “peevology”).
Because the problem usually isn’t poor word choice – to be solved simply by choosing a different word. It’s unclear thinking. When our ideas aren’t clear, we like to choose broad, familiar, overused, imprecise words that seem to get at an idea but can’t contribute to a clear and precise statement – because there isn’t a clear and precise thought. I was asked yesterday how to avoid using the word “revolutionary” in press releases. I answered that the problem isn’t with the word “revolutionary.” It’s with thinking that something is revolutionary when it isn’t. Get the thinking right, and the word choice problem disappears.
Most readers just want useful information, not brilliant prose. They’ll forgive an overused term or a minor grammar error if the information is clear and valuable. Many terrific and popular bloggers struggle to write grammatically correct sentences, and some are obviously non-native speakers of English, but the information they impart is clear and valuable. That’s what counts.
We constantly work between the two extremes of meaninglessness and rigidity. In Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass, we see an egg in crisis: “When I use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, “it means just what I choose it to mean – neither more nor less.” And we know what happened to Humpty. But to think that a word should have just one original meaning and never change (”loophole” should be used only for a hole in a wall used for throwing rocks or shooting arrows) denies the natural way language develops and makes rhetorical con artists of us all.
A couple of weeks ago I wrote that when sentence after sentence is poorly built from twisted phrases and misapplied idioms and clichés, readers must work too hard to construct meaning. But the way to achieve clarity is not with some rigid, etymology-based precision that shifts the focus from “is it clear” to “is it correct.”
Concludes Shafer: “Once reporters understand that one man’s loophole is another man’s freedom, they’ll never use the word again. At least not outside quotation marks.” Of course they will. And as long as they are making a point clearly, they should feel free to do so.
Posted in Communication, Journalism, Writing |
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