Where have all the verbs gone?

When I was in college (late 1980s), my roommate had book on his desk — it may have been The Rise and Decline of Nations. The cover always stuck with me. It showed a short, three-step platform similar to the Olympic medal stand, except it read as a staircase with one ascending step, one descending step and one apex. John Bull, the Union Jack hoisted forlornly over one shoulder, was stepping down from the apex. Uncle Sam, Stars and Stripes aloft, occupied the top. A Japanese salaryman, Rising Sun gripped in one hand, was poised on the ascending step. The image stuck with me for two reasons — first, because it’s what everyone assumed would happen in 1988; second, because it didn’t happen. So much for our prognosticative powers.

Today, the American business community still fears its fall from dominance. Millennial executives in casual shirtsleeves wring their hands over whom to watch. Will it be the Chinese? The Koreans? The Brazilians? In my estimation, it doesn’t matter. We are already on the path to inconsequence.

By “we,” I mean American corporations. The evidence of this is American corporate writing.

If words are a window into the soul, then our soul is dead — devoid of life and vigor — devoid of the simple sentence component that signals action, the verb. Have you noticed the straining effort corporate writers exert to avoid verbs? Why write “I uploaded the files using the FTP link you sent me” when you can proffer “File upload complete via FTP link per your instructions”? Even communication with customers has taken on a creepy, computery feel. I just finished a website for a global company who insisted “Please select an item by clicking on link” instead read “All item selections are via description link.” Does that sound clear to you? Does that even sound like you need to do anything? (And what’s with the abuse of the word via?)

2009 was a strange year. Some primal switch flipped in my psyche. It made me yearn for a tough, hardscrabble life where I would wrestle deer to the ground and haul the carcasses back to the cabin. It has made my wife desire a large tract of land to coax unwilling cereal grains and legumes from. We are white-collar urbanites who have never hunted or farmed or even dreamed of it. And we are not alone. More people I talk to at work and elsewhere — computer jockeys, artsy types, account managers — report the same stirring urges. Some zeitgeist is demanding action. Is it our sedentary work and lifestyle? Is it that we as a society are becoming soft, our every desire being serviced as we lounge in comfort? Is it because our institutions — our corporations, banks and governments — are failing us?

Yes to all. America was founded on risk and action. Why do we eliminate the verbs from our writing? Because of fear — fear of offending someone and fear of demanding action. Deleting our verbs means obliterating our essence. “I think, therefore I am,” but also “I am, therefore I act.” So 2010 brings a new manifesto to Lexicide: Resist! Act! Write! In doing so, we can fulfill E. M. Forster’s plea to “Connect! Only Connect!”

Methodology

METHODOLOGY: “a system of methods used in a particular area of study or activity” — New Oxford American Dictionary

Methodology may be one of the most overused words in business, and thanks to the recent shenanigans of certain climate research scientists, the word is mushrooming all over the ‘net like mosquitos at a global warming summit. Most of the news articles used methodology correctly to describe an all-embracing system of methods and beliefs. A few referred to “the scientific methodology.” BZZZ! Wrong! What the East Anglia folks dissed was the scientific method, even though their methodology is now also suspect. Everyone straight?

Methodologies are not the same as methods. Your company may have a methodology of risk assessment or forecasting that encompasses several methods, processes and assumptions. But just because you may have more than one method for a process, it doesn’t mean you have a methodology. So you can stop pontificating about your screen printing methodologies or your shipping methodologies. The word you want is methods.

The suffix “ology” is Greek for “study” — technically, this makes methodology the study of methods. Those five letters exist for a reason other than to add more syllables to your verbiage and make you (supposedly) sound smarter. If you insist on using big words incorrectly, you need to re-examine your methodology to encompass a less pretentious attitude and better writing, speaking and thinking methods.

— Otto E. Mezzo

Quantum leap (spotted in Field & Stream)

The 50 Best Guns Ever Made

September, 2007
15. Smith & Wesson Model 500

Introduced in 2003, this 4 1/2 -pound monster of a double-action revolver is as much of a quantum leap over existing handguns as the Model 29 was 50 years ago…

A “quantum leap over existing handguns?” F&S has one thing right — this express revolver does not represent a quantum leap in the true definition of “sudden change.” For drama, though, it’s a game changer — literally, if not figuratively!

Quantum leap

QUANTUM LEAP: (in physics) “an abrupt transition of a system described by quantum mechanics from one of its discrete states to another, as the fall of an electron in an atom to an orbit of lower energy;” (vernacular) “any sudden and significant change, advance, or increase” —Random House Dictionary

Last month, Lexicide deconstructed “ground zero,” so while we’re in a nuclear state of mind, let’s turn our electron microscopes on quantum leap. When sub-atomic particles change states, the change is sudden and the stages in between state #1 and state #2 are imperceptible. One nanosecond, they’re one place; the next, they’re someplace else. Subatomic particles don’t walk — apparently, they take the transporter. I don’t understand it any better than you (and I’m not talking to you folks over at CalTech or the Large Hadron Collider), but I do understand when eggheads speak of quantum leaps, that’s what they mean.

I also understand that quantum leaps are by definition very, very, very tiny. Yes, they are sudden. Yes, they are significant (and puzzling), but they are rarely colossal in scale. Not so in the vernacular usage. If you speak of a quantum leap in skill, growth or numbers, it must be a dramatic change. I suppose on an atomic level, a change from one state to the next ranks as dramatic. However, the key characteristic of a quantum leap is not scale, but suddenness. More and more I hear phrases like: “In five to ten years, this company will have made a quantum leap in terms of sales.” If it takes ten years, it is not a quantum leap. To sum up: sudden change=quantum leap; sudden and dramatic change=quantum leap; dramatic, yet gradual, change=dramatic change.

So I’m issuing an out-of-character plea: do not subject this handy phrase to a dramatic (but not sudden) shift in meaning. Quantum leap is too cool a term to leave only to PhDs. However, it’s also too useful an analogy to abandon to BS.

— Otto E. Mezzo

Ground zero

GROUND ZERO: “the point on the earth’s surface directly above or below an exploding nuclear bomb.” —New Oxford American Dictionary

There are many things that puzzle my puny brain. Why use corn sweetener instead of sugar? How can manufacturing and shipping trinkets from China be more cost-effective than making them in Nebraska? Why are French actresses so unreasonably sexy when their male co-stars look like New York cab drivers during a transit strike? (Worse, why do American women find these schlubs alluring?) But by far the most taxing question is: why do people use words and phrases incorrectly when correct terms are in common circulation?

Take ground zero. Everyone knows what it means. You do not want to be at ground zero. Ever. So why “start at ground zero,” as so many managers, project directors, etc., insist? While not strictly wrong, it smacks of imprecision. If you start with a blank slate, you start from nothing, zero or square one. These are terms that everyone knows and uses, and yet somewhere along the way, somebody somewhere confused the unconfusing ground zero with these common, simple words.

Is it a poetic reference to the site of the World Trade Center attack, an event that forced us to rethink our national priorities? After all, you say, that’s an apt metaphor for any business strategy on which my team labors for months, only to be knocked down by shifting requirements or corporate restructuring, thus forcing us to rewrite the whole plan. Don’t make me laugh. Some office drone obviously got the big numbers in square one and ground zero mixed up and shot his mouth off without thinking. And for this we went to college.

How about this? You go back to ground zero. I’ll just hang here by this red button. Now we’re good.

— Otto E. Mezzo

Enervate (spotted on the net)

“…on the whole, I believe it’s been a very successful and enervating and exciting convention.” — Ben Affleck
Mr. Affleck was speaking of the 2004 Democratic convention. I do not extend clemency to Ben Affleck.

Enervate Gaming (enervategaming.com)

What sort of games do they develop? I know Half-Life severely enervated my productivity.

“Crossfire”
CNN | July 30, 2004
“…on the whole, I believe it’s been a very successful and enervating and exciting convention.” — Ben Affleck

Mr. Affleck was speaking of the 2004 Democratic convention. I do not extend clemency to Ben Affleck.

— Otto E. Mezzo

Enervate (spotted in Harry Potter)

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling, published 2001
“My elf has been stunned.” Diggory raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, “Ennervate!” Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened.

In researching enervate, it came to my attention that Ms. Rowling named a spell for it — one that revived rather than exhausted. On the surface, it seems like Rowling fell into the trap of equating enervate with “energize.” Being a Potter fan and appreciating Rowling’s breadth of knowledge in things classical and literary, I would like to extend clemency to her based on her spelling. Ennervate (with two ns) could be a British spelling of innervate, a medical term that means “to supply with nerves.” I honestly don’t know. The British use ensure where Americans use insure, but then again, Americans often use ensure where other Americans use insure. Perhaps a literate UK reader can inlighten us — I mean, enlighten us.

— Otto E. Mezzo

Enervate

ENERVATE: “cause (someone) to feel drained of energy or vitality; weaken” —New Oxford American Dictionary

“What we’re doing with the stimulus monies, and you’re going to see these go up very shortly, is we’re putting solar panels on top of every public parking rooftop. That will enervate the building but will also allow us to have plugs at each stall for hybrid/electric and electric vehicles.” (Albuquerque mayor Martin Chavez in an interview with The New Mexico Daily Lobo, published August 24, 2009)

It’s tiring, truly it is. I just returned from a Washington, D.C., trip with my two very energetic boys. Between miles of urban hiking and inadequate sleep (which is the norm for me), I am exhausted. But not nearly as exhausted as I am when I hear people use words incorrectly, knowing it will create a meme that rampages through the internet like a stampede of Huns, thus forcing me to write another article with exactly the same words… so… tired…

Enervate does not mean “energize” … sounds like it … so what? … if you mean “energize” …  just use energize … so pretentious … why do people insist … why do I bother? … sleep ……..

— Otto E. Mezzzzz……..

References:
The interview at Daily Lobo.com

Im n ur diktionary, killing ur w0rdz!

Lexicide, as a rule, does not address mishearings, misreadings or mis-repeatings. Every language suffers its games of “telephone.” Without it, I would be eating a numble pie while wearing a napron rather than a humble pie while sporting an apron. (Numbles, by the way, are pieces of offal. Yeah, I’d rather eat humility, too.) But while these migrations of yore probably resulted from illiteracy or unfamiliarity, today’s shifts seem to result purely from carelessness.

I will grant that words like verbiage, leverage and differential are misused because folks guess at their meanings and guess wrongly. But is there an Anglophone out there who doesn’t know what FYI means? (In case you are one, it stands for for your information.) Yet more and more, I hear people use it to mean “just in case,” as in “let’s make a backup, just for FYI.” (I won’t even touch the extra for in that sentence.)

Here’s another one: LOL, which netizens recognize as “laugh out loud”—originally a response to a particularly funny epigram. The web has obviously gained more than a modicum of irony, since Facebook users now use LOL to mean anything from “nervous chuckle” to “yeah, right” to “not at all funny”— in other words, almost anything but “laugh out loud.”

My new favorite of the month has to be under guise of, as in “Launch of the website will be under guise of marketing.” Despite this thoughtless, ubiquitous and wrong usage, guise is not the same word as guidance. It’s not even etymologically related. “Oh well, it sounds the same, so you’ll have to excuse me,” you say. “Fat chance,” say I, because guise also sounds like disguise, which is practically the same word. Under guise of means “disguised as” or “under pretense of” and implies subterfuge and duplicity: “I’m taking Trixie to Cancun under guise of client relations.” If you want to say “under the guidance of,” then the phrase you want is under the guidance of. Even better, try active voice: “Marketing will guide the website launch.” (I know—too much to ask, right?)

Communications behaviors change quickly in the web 2.0 world, but I often wonder why it’s mistakes that circulate the quickest. Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised, since more people forward emails claiming that Obama is a Muslim or Bush has the lowest presidential IQ than ones correcting egregious misuses of words. LOL.