Style Guide for Your Papers in Geog 2002

 

From the Economist Magazine

I N T R O D U C T I O N.

Clarity of writing usually follows clarity of thought. So think what you want to say, then say it as simply as possible. Keep in mind George Orwell's six elementary rules ("Politics and the English Language", 1946):

  • i.Never use a metaphor, simile or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
  • ii.Never use a long word where a short one will do.
  • iii.If it is possible to cut out a word, always cut it out.
  • iv.Never use the passive where you can use the active.
  • v.Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
  • vi.Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

M E T A P H O R S.

"A newly invented metaphor assists thought by evoking a visual image," said Orwell, "while on the other hand a metaphor which is technically ‘dead’ (eg, iron resolution) has in effect reverted to being an ordinary word and can generally be used without loss of vividness. But in between these two classes there is a huge dump of wornout metaphors which are merely used because they save people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves."

Every issue of The Economist contains scores of metaphors: trails of crushed rivals, billing and cooing politicians, projects falling at the first hurdle, track records on inflation, tabloid reporters lapping up stories, reports leaving the door ajar, irresistible forces about to meet immovable objects, roadblocks in the path of reform, investors crying foul, doors slammed shut in China, blind eyes turned in Taiwan, investors jumping the gun, heat off in America, the reins of power in Japan, bargaining chips in South Africa, U-turns everywhere, honeymoons (always at an end), foot-dragging, run-ups, counterweights, shadows cast, bureaucratic barriers, grass-roots organisations, mainstream conservatives, young Turks, leading wets, crash-courses, grinding poverty, flabby banks getting into shape, politicians turning deaf ears, binges of brand acquisitions and so on. Some of these are tired, and will therefore tire the reader. Most are so exhausted that they may be considered dead, and are therefore permissible. But use all metaphors, dead or alive, sparingly, otherwise you will make trouble for yourself.

An issue of The Economist chosen at random had a package cutting the budget deficit, the administration loth to sign on to higher targets, liberals accused of playing politics on the court (Supreme, not tennis), only to find in the next sentence that the boot was on the other foot, the lure of eastern Germany as a springboard to the struggling markets of Eastern Europe, West Europeanness helping to dilute an image, someone finding a pretext to stall the process before looking for a few integrationist crumbs, an end-of-millennium spring clean that became in the next sentence a stalking-horse for greater spending, and Michelin axing jobs in painful surgery in order to stay at the top of a league table. Soon the Michelin man was plunging his company even further in to debt, though if it were to stay afloat his ambitions would have to be deflated.

Two pages on, the reader had to go down to the seas again when a flotilla of mutual and quoted life-assurance outfits were confident of surviving turbulent waters. The galleons were afloat, but the medium-sized and smaller mutuals quickly turned into fodder for domestic and foreign predators. Further on, banks going to the altar in the expectation of a tax-free dowry saw it become a sweetener in the next sentence and the bill that delivered it transformed into a panacea. Those who wanted to learn about Japanese equity financing were told of a stockmarket crawling back (not on its feet, it was explained) towards its old high, of commercial banks keeping the wolf from the door and, three paragraphs later, of the stockmarket's double whammy. One whammy was a crash which made a big dent in shares, the other blew a hole (a gaping one) in the so-called tokkin funds. On, on went the reader past masked bunglings, key measures, money-supply growth out of hand, a haunted Bank of Japan redoubling its squeeze, banks slashing growth lest they found themselves on a tight leash before being cracked down on. Few could have been surprised to learn at the end of the article that another dose of higher interest rates might be forced on the banks if the present inflationary symptoms turned into measles-like spots, and if the apothecaries at the finance ministry agreed with the diagnosis.

Others are even more extravagant in their figures of speech. These two sentences were used as an opening paragraph to arrest the attention of the readers of A.N.Other newspaper:

Bulgaria is on its knees. A long-simmering economic crisis has erupted, gripping the country in a fierce and unrelenting embrace.

Another publication reported:

The basic question for the Bush campaign, as the fervor from the Republican convention in Houston last week dissipates, is whether or not it is barking up the wrong social tree by painting an exclusionary picture of an American society that has otherwise long been characterised as a melting-pot eternally susceptible to change. This may only be part of the broader election canvas, which also runs to more legitimate criticism of the opposition . . . On another occasion, it lamented:

Mr Clinton has had to pull the plug on a plan that had been tarred as a bail-out for an incompetent regime and the Wall Street fat cats who invested in it. And poor Reuters had to report that:

A BBC statement said today: "This is an off-the-wall programme with a track record of cutting-edge humour, but on this occasion we appear to have overstepped the mark."

So did Léon Dion, cited as "an important constitutional expert" by another publication:

In his opinion, give the Anglophones an inch and they will demand a mile. "The signs issue is just the Trojan horse," he says. "It is the tip of the iceberg. Once the dam is open you won't be able to close it."

S H O R T W O R D S.

Use them. They are often Anglo-Saxon rather than Latin in origin. They are easy to spell and easy to understand. Thus prefer about to approximately, after to following, let to permit, but to however, use to utilise, make tomanufacture, plant to facility, take part to participate, set up to establish, enough to sufficient, show to demonstrate and so on.

Underdeveloped countries are often better described as poor. Substantive often means real or big. "Short words are best and the old words when short are best of all." (Winston Churchill)

 U N N E C E S S A R Y W O R D S.

Some words add nothing but length to your prose. Use adjectives to make your meaning more precise and be cautious of those you find yourself using to make it more emphatic. The word very is a case in point. If it occurs in a sentence you have written, try leaving it out and see whether the meaning is changed. The omens were good may have more force than The omens were very good.

Avoid strike action (strike will do), cutbacks (cuts), track record (record), wilderness area (usually either a wilderness or a wild area), large-scale (big), weather conditions (weather), etc.

Shoot off, or rather shoot, as many prepositions after verbs as possible. Thus people can meet rather than meet with; companies can be bought and sold rather than bought up and sold off; budgets can be cut rather than cut back; plots can be hatched but not hatched up; organisations should be headed by rather than headed up by chairmen, just as markets should be freed, rather than freed up. And children can be sent to bed rather than sent off to bed—though if they are to sit up they must first sit down.

This advice you are given free, or for nothing, but not for free.

Certain words are often redundant. The leader of the so-called Front for a Free Freedonia is the leader of the Front for a Free Freedonia. A top politician or top priority is usually just a politician or a priority, and a major speech usually just a speech. A safe haven is a haven. Most probably and most especially are probably and especially. The fact that can often be shortened to That (That I did not do so was a self-indulgence). Loans to the industrial and agricultural sectors are just loans to industry and farming.

Community is another word often best cut out. Not only is it usually unnecessary, it purports to convey a sense of togetherness that may well not exist. The black community means blacks, the business community means businessmen, the homosexual community means homosexuals, the intelligence community means spies, the international community, if it means anything, means other countries, aid agencies or, just occasionally, the family of nations.

Use words with care. A heart condition is usually a bad heart. Positive thoughts (held by long-suffering creditors, according to The Economist) presumably means optimism, just as a negative report (eg, from the Department of Health on the side-effects of drugs) is probably a critical report. Industrial action is usually industrial inaction, industrial disruption or a strike. A substantially finished bridge is an unfinished bridge. Someone with high name-recognition is well known. Something with reliability problems probably does not work. If yours is a live audience, what would a dead one be like?

In general, be concise. Try to be economical in your account or argument ("The best way to be boring is to leave nothing out"—Voltaire). Similarly, try to be economical with words. "As a general rule, run your pen through every other word you have written; you have no idea what vigour it will give to your style." (Sydney Smith)

A C T I V E, N O T P A S S I V E.

Be direct. A hit B describes the event more concisely than B was hit by A.

J A R G O N.

Avoid it. You may have to think harder if you are not to use jargon, but you can still be precise. Technical terms should be used in their proper context; do not use them out of it. In many instances simple words can do the job of exponential (try fast), interface (frontier or border) and so on. If you find yourself tempted to write about affirmative action or corporate governance, you will have to explain what it is; with luck, you will then not have to use the actual expression.

Avoid, above all, the kind of jargon that tries either to dignify nonsense with seriousness (Working in an empowering environment, a topic discussed at a recent Economist conference) or to obscure the truth (We shall not launch the ground offensive until we have attrited the Republican Guard to the point when they no longer have an effective offensive capacity—the Pentagon's way of saying that the allies would not fight on the ground until they had killed so many Iraqis that the others would not attack). What was meant by the Israeli defence ministry when it issued the following press release remains unclear: The United States and Israel now possess the capability to conduct real-time simulations with man in the loop for full-scale theatre missile defence architectures for the Middle East.

Try not to use foreign words and phrases unless there is no English alternative, which is unusual (so a year or per year, not per annum; a person or per person, not per capita; beyond one's authority, not ultra vires; and so on).

T O N E.

The reader is primarily interested in what you have to say. By the way in which you say it you may encourage him either to read on or to stop reading. If you want him to read on:

Do not be stuffy. "To write a genuine, familiar or truly English style", said Hazlitt, "is to write as anyone would speak in common conversation who had a thorough command or choice of words or who could discourse with ease, force and perspicuity setting aside all pedantic and oratorical flourishes."

In "How to Be a Better Reporter", Arthur Brisbane put it like this: "Avoid fancy writing. The most powerful words are the simplest. ‘To be or not to be, that is the question,’ ‘In the beginning was the word,’ ‘We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep,’ ‘Out, out, brief candle,’ ‘The rest is silence.’ Nothing fancy in those quotations. A natural style is the only style."

Use the language of everyday speech, not that of spokesmen, lawyers or bureaucrats (so prefer let to permit, people to persons, buy to purchase, colleague to peer, way out to exit, present to gift, rich to wealthy, break to violate). It is sometimes useful to talk of human-rights abuses but often the sentence can be rephrased more pithily and more accurately. The army is accused of committing numerous human-rights abuses probably means The army is accused of torture and murder.

Avoid, where possible, euphemisms and circumlocutions promoted by interest-groups. In most contexts the hearing-impaired are simply deaf. It is no disrespect to the disabled sometimes to describe them as crippled. Female teenagers are girls, not women. The underprivileged may be disadvantaged, but are more likely just poor.

And man sometimes includes women, just as he sometimes makes do for she as well. It is often possible to phrase sentences so that they neither give offence to women nor become hideously complicated. Using the plural can be a helpful device. Thus Instruct the reader without lecturing him is better put as Instruct readers without lecturing them. But some sentences resist this treatment: Find a good teacher and take his advice is not easily rendered gender-neutral. Avoid, above all, the sort of scrambled syntax that the Commission for Racial Equality has to adopt because it cannot bring itself to use a singular pronoun: We can't afford to squander anyone's talents, whatever colour their skin is. Avoid also chairpersons (chairwoman is permissible), businesspeople, humankind and the person in the street—ugly expressions all. And, so long as you are not insensitive in other ways, few women will be offended if you restrain yourself from putting or she after every he.

He or she which hath no stomach to this fight,

Let him or her depart; his or her passport shall be made,

And crowns for convoy put into his or her purse:

We would not die in that person's company

That fears his or her fellowship to die with us.

Be sparing with quotes. Direct quotes should be used when either the speaker or what he said is surprising, or when the words he used are particularly pithy or graphic. Otherwise you can probably paraphrase him more concisely. The most pointless quote is the inconsequential remark attributed to a nameless source: "Everyone wants to be in on the act," says one high-ranking civil servant.

Do not be hectoring or arrogant. Those who disagree with you are not necessarily stupid or insane. Nobody needs to be described as silly: let your analysis show that he is. When you express opinions, do not simply make assertions. The aim is not just to tell readers what you think, but to persuade them; if you use arguments, reasoning and evidence, you may succeed. Go easy on the oughts and shoulds.

Do not be too pleased with yourself. Don't boast of your own cleverness by telling readers that you correctly predicted something or that you have a scoop. You are more likely to bore or irritate them than to impress them.

Do not be too chatty. Surprise, surprise is more irritating than informative. So is Ho, ho, etc.

Do not be too didactic. If too many sentences begin Compare, Consider, Expect, Imagine, Look at, Note, Prepare for, Remember or Take, readers will think they are reading a textbook (or, indeed, a style book).

J O U R N A L E S E & S L A N G.

Do not be too free with slang (eg, He really hit the big time in 1994). Slang, like metaphors, should be used only occasionally if it is to have effect. Avoid expressions used only by journalists, such as giving people the thumbs up, the thumbs down or the green light. Stay clear of gravy trains and salami tactics. Do not use the likes of. And avoid words and expressions that are ugly or overused, such as the bottom line, high profile, caring (as an adjective), carers, guesstimate (use guess), schizophrenic (unless the context is medical), crisis, key, major (unless something else nearby is minor), massive (as in massive inflation), meaningful, perceptions and prestigious.

Politicians are often said to be highly visible, when conspicuous would be more appropriate. Regulations are sometimes said to be designed to create transparency, which presumably means openness. Governance usually means government.

Try not to be predictable, especially predictably jocular. Spare your readers any mention of mandarins when writing about the civil service, of their lordships when discussing the House of Lords, and of comrades when analysing communist parties.

In general, try to make your writing fresh. It will seem stale if it reads like hackneyed journalese. One weakness of journalists, who on daily newspapers may plead that they have little time to search for the apposite word, is a love of the ready-made, seventh-hand phrase.

Lazy journalists are always at home in oil-rich country A, ruled by ailing President B, the long-serving strongman, who is, according to the chattering classes, a wily political operator—hence the present uneasy peace—but, after his recent watershed (or landmark or sea-change) decision to arrest his prime minister (the honeymoon is over), will soon face a bloody uprising in the breakaway south. Similarly, lazy business journalists always enjoy describing the problems of troubled company C, a victim of the revolution in the gimbal-pin industry (change is always revolutionary in such industries), which, well-placed insiders predict, will be riven by a make-or-break strike unless one of the major players makes an 11th-hour (or last-ditch) intervention in a marathon negotiating session.

Prose such as this is freighted with codewords (respected is applied to someone the writer approves of, militant someone he disapproves of, prestigious something you won't have heard of). The story can usually start with the words, First the good news, inevitably to be followed in due course by Now the bad news. A quote will then be inserted, attributed to one (never an) industry analyst. Towards the end, after an admission that the author has no idea what is going on, there is always room for One thing is certain, before rounding off the article with As one wag put it . . .

Perhaps even more wearying for the reader is the trendy journalist's fondness of vogue words and expressions. Some of these are deliberately chosen (bridges too far; empires striking back; kinder, gentler; F-words; flavours of the month; Generation X; $64,000 questions; southern discomfort; back to the future; thirty-somethings; where's the beef?), usually from a film or television, or perhaps a politician. Others come into use less wittingly, often from social scientists. If you find yourself using any of the following words, you should stop and ask yourself whether (a) it is the best word for the job (b) you would have used it in the same context five or ten years ago, and if not why not: address (questions can be answered, issues discussed, problems solved, difficulties dealt with) care for and all caring expressions (how about look after?) community (see above, under Unnecessary Words) environment (in a writing environment you may want to make use of your Tipp-Ex, rubber or delete button) focus (all the world's a stage, not a lens) participate (take part in—more words but fewer syllables) partner ("Take your partners for the Gay Gordons!" by all means, but dancing together does not necessarily mean sleeping together—just as a sleeping partner is not necessarily a lover) process (a word properly applied to the Arab-Israeli peace affair, because it was meant to be evolutionary, but now often used in place of talks) relationship (relations can nearly always do the job) resources (especially human resources, which may be personnel, staff or just people) skills (these are turning up all over the place—in learning skills, thinking skills, teaching skills—instead of the ability to . . . He has the skills probably means He can) supportive (helpful?) target (if you are tempted to target your efforts, try to direct them instead) transparency (openness?)

Such words are not wrong, but if you find yourself using them only because you hear others using them, not because they are the most appropriate ones in the context, you should avoid them. Overused words and off-the-shelf expressions make for stale prose.

A M E R I C A N I S M S.

If you use Americanisms just to show you know them, people may find you a tad tiresome, so be discriminating. Many American words and expressions have passed into the language; others have vigour, particularly if used sparingly.

Some are short and to the point (so prefer lay off to make redundant). But many are unnecessarily long (so use and not additionally, car not automobile, company not corporation, court not courtroom or courthouse, transport not transportation, district not neighbourhood, oblige not obligate, rocket not skyrocket, stocks not inventories unless there is the risk of confusion with stocks and shares). Spat and scam, two words beloved by some journalists, have the merit of brevity, but so do row and fraud; squabble and swindle might sometimes be used instead. The military, used as a noun, is nearly always better put as the army. Gubernatorial is an ugly word that can almost always be avoided.

Other Americanisms are euphemistic or obscure (so avoid affirmative action, rookies, end runs, stand-offs, point men, ball games and almost all other American sporting terms). Do not write meet with or outside of: outside America, nowadays, you just meet people. Do not figure out if you can work out. To deliver on a promise means to keep it. A parking lot is a car park. Use senior rather than ranking.

Put adverbs where you would put them in normal speech, which is usually after the verb (not before it, which usually is where Americans put them). Choose tenses according to British usage, too. In particular, do not fight shy—as Americans often do—of the perfect tense, especially where no date or time is given. Thus Mr Clinton has woken up to the danger is preferable to Mr Clinton woke up to the danger, unless you can add last week or when he heard the explosion. Prefer doctors to physicians and lawyers to attorneys. They are to be found in Harley Street or Wall Street, not on it. And they rest from their labours at weekends, not on them. During the week their children are at school, not in it.

In an American context you may run for office (but please stand in countries with parliamentary systems) and your car may sometimes run on gasoline instead of petrol. But if you use corn in the American sense you should explain that this is maize to most people (unless it is an old chestnut). Trains run from railway stations, not train stations. The people in them, and on buses, are passengers, not riders. Cars are hired, not rented. City centres are not central cities. Cricket is a game not a sport. London is the country's capital, not the nation's. Ex-servicemen are not necessarily veterans. Bullet-proof vests are bullet-proof waistcoats unless, improbably, they are singlets. In Britain, though cattle and pigs may be raised, children are (or should be) brought up.

Make a deep study or even a study in depth, but not an in-depth study. On-site inspections are allowed, but not in-flight entertainment. Throw stones, not rocks, unless they are of slate, which can also mean abuse (as a verb) but does not, in Britain, mean predict or nominate. Regular is not a synonym for ordinary or normal: Mussolini brought in the regular train, All-Bran the regular man; it is quite normal to be without either. Hikes are walks, not increases. Vegetables, not teenagers, should be fresh. Only the speechless are dumb, the well-dressed smart and the insane mad. Scenarios are best kept for the theatre, postures for the gym, parameters for the parabola.

Grow a beard or a tomato but not a company. By all means call for a record profit if you wish to exhort the workers, but not if you merely predict one. And do not post it if it has been achieved. If it has not, look for someone new to head the company, not to head it up.

You may program a computer but in all other contexts the word is programme.

Try not to verb nouns or to adjective them. So do not access files, haemorrhage red ink (haemorrhage is a noun), let one event impact another, author books (still less co-author them), critique style sheets, host parties or loan money. Gunned down means shot.

And though it is sometimes necessary to use nouns as adjectives, there is no need to call an attempted coup a coup attempt or the Californian legislature the California legislature. Vilest of all is the habit of throwing together several nouns into one ghastly adjectival reticule: Texas millionaire real-estate developer and failed thrift entrepreneur Hiram Turnipseed . . .

Do not feel obliged to follow American fashion in overusing such words as constituency (try supporters), perception (try belief or view) and rhetoric (of which there is too little, not too much—try language or speeches or exaggeration if that is what you mean).

And if you must use American expressions, use them correctly (a rain-check does not imply checking on the shower activity).

S Y N T A X.

Do not be sloppy in the construction of your sentences and paragraphs. Do not use a participle unless you make it clear what it applies to. Thus avoid Having died, they had to bury him, or Proceeding along this line of thought, the cause of the train crash becomes clear.

To never split an infinitive is quite easy. Don't overdo the use of don't, isn't, can't, won't, etc; one per issue is usually enough. And avoid the false possessive: London's Heathrow Airport.

Make sure that plural nouns have plural verbs. Too often, in the pages of The Economist, they do not. Kogalym today is one of the few Siberian oil towns which are [not is] almost habitable.

Use the subjunctive properly. If you are posing a hypothesis contrary to fact, you must use the subjunctive. Thus, If I were you . . . or If Hitler were alive today, he could tell us whether he kept a diary. If the hypothesis may or may not be true, you do not use the subjunctive. Thus If this diary is not Hitler's, we shall be glad we did not publish it. If you have would in the main clause, you must use the subjunctive in the if clause. If you were to disregard this rule, you would make a fool of yourself.

It is common nowadays to use the subjunctive in such constructions as He demanded that the Russians withdraw, They insisted that the Americans also move back, The referee suggested both sides cool it, In soccer it is necessary that everyone remain civil. This construction is correct, and has always been used in America, whence it has recrossed the Atlantic. In Britain, though, it fell into disuse some time ago except in more formal contexts: I command the prisoner be summoned, I beg that the motion be put to the house. In British English, but not in American, another course would be to insert the word should: He demanded that the Russians should withdraw, The Americans should also move back, Both sides should cool it, Everyone should remain civil.

Alternatively, some of the sentences could be rephrased: He asked the Russians to withdraw, It is necessary for everyone to remain civil.

Take care with the genitive. It is fine to say a friend of Bill's, just as you would say a friend of mine, so you can also say a friend of Bill's and Hillary's. But it is also fine to say a friend of Bill, or a friend of Bill and Hillary. What you must not say is Bill and Hillary's friend. If you wish to use that construction, you must say Bill's and Hillary's friend, which is cumbersome.

Respect the gerund. Gerunds look like participles—running, jumping, standing—but are more noun-like, and should never therefore be preceded by a personal pronoun. So the following are wrong: I was awoken by him snoring, He could not prevent them drowning, Please forgive me coming late. Those sentences should have ended: his snoring, their drowning, my coming late. In other words, use the possessive adjective rather than the personal pronoun.

Do your best to be lucid ("I see but one rule: to be clear", Stendhal). Simple sentences help. Keep complicated constructions and gimmicks to a minimum, if necessary by remembering the New Yorker's comment: "Backward ran sentences until reeled the mind."

The following readers' letters may be chastening.

SIR—"Big, earnest and well-conducted last Saturday's demonstrations, in Washington and San Francisco, against the war in Indochina undoubtedly were."

Aided, chuffed and well-rewarded in his search for memorable journalese this reader, in your May 1st 1971 edition on the American mass demonstrations, most certainly was.

—DAVID C. BELDEN

SIR—At times just one sentence in The Economist can give us hours of enjoyment, such as "Yet German diplomats in Belgrade failed to persuade their government that it was wrong to think that the threat of international recognition of Croatia and Slovenia would itself deter Serbia" (August 15th 1992).

During my many years as a reader of your newspaper, I have distilled two lessons about the use of our language. Firstly, it is usually easier to write a double negative than it is to interpret it. Secondly, unless the description of an event which is considered to be not without consequence includes a double or higher-order negative, then it cannot be disproven that the writer has neglected to eliminate other interpretations of the event which are not satisfactory in light of other possibly not unrelated events which might not have occurred at all.

For these reasons, I have not neglected your timely reminder that I ought not to let my subscription lapse. It certainly cannot be said that I am an unhappy reader.

—WILLARD DUNNING

Mark Twain described how a good writer treats sentences: "At times he may indulge himself with a long one, but he will make sure there are no folds in it, no vaguenesses, no parenthetical interruptions of its view as a whole; when he has done with it, it won't be a sea-serpent with half of its arches under the water; it will be a torch-light procession." Long paragraphs, like long sentences, can confuse the reader. "The paragraph", according to Fowler, "is essentially a unit of thought, not of length; it must be homogeneous in subject matter and sequential in treatment." One-sentence paragraphs should be used only occasionally.

Clear thinking is the key to clear writing. "A scrupulous writer", observed Orwell, "in every sentence that he writes will ask himself at least four questions, thus: What am I trying to say? What words will express it? What image or idiom will make it clearer? Is this image fresh enough to have an effect? And he will probably ask himself two more: Could I put it more shortly? Have I said anything that is avoidably ugly?"