November 14, 2017
by Graham

Historians and “historians”

This post has very little to do with language.
My opinion of Emma Dabiri, mentioned in my last post, has nose-dived since I wrote that. I’ve now watched the last of the series of ‘Britain’s Lost Masterpieces’, which featured a painting found at Hospitalfield, an arts centre near Arbroath. For a start, she consistently mispronounced its name, adding a final -s which is totally unwarranted. But unforgivably, she said that it was built as a hospital attached to the Benedictine Abbey of Arbroath, but that “the monks were chased away by Henry VIII”.
Ms Dabiri calls herself (or at least she is billed as) a ‘social historian’. To me, this means that she has studied history, and later specialized in social history, having gained a solid grounding in the general subject. She may be Irish, and so not have gone through the British education system, but if she is to make programmes about British history, then surely it behoves her to gain some knowledge of the subject before making such crass errors on screen. I’m sure that 5 million Scots will agree with me.
It is perhaps symptomatic of British education at the moment that noone on the production team spotted the error, and got her to correct it.

November 10, 2017
by Graham
1 Comment

Whose benefit?

We appear to be in danger of completely losing what I consider to be a useful distinction between two phrases, one of which seems to be disappearing.
Earlier this year, a cyclist, Charlie Alliston, riding an illegal bicycle (it had no rear-wheel brake) knocked over a pedestrian, Kim Briggs. Blaming her for the accident, he tweeted “Hopefully it is a lesson learned on her behalf.” When Ms Briggs later died, Mr Alliston withdrew the tweet. Leaving aside any legal question, my interest is in the meaning of the tweet. My understanding of “a lesson learned on her behalf” is that someone else learned the lesson for the benefit of Ms Briggs. The entry for “behalf” in the online version of the OED has not been fully updated since 1887, when it was originally published, but example sentences given from the 18th and 19th centuries (obviously the most recent available at the time) confirm my interpretation. Equally clearly, however, Mr Alliston intended the meaning “a lesson learned on her part”, i.e. by Ms Briggs herself, and the fact that Mr Alliston withdrew the tweet after her death seems to imply this. He may just have made a mistake in the heat of the moment.
However, since then I have heard other, supposedly well-educated people also use the expression “on behalf of” or “on X’s behalf” in the same way. For instance, Emma Dabiri, the social historian partnering Bendor Grosvenor in the second series of BBC’s “Britain’s Lost Masterpieces”, said, in programme 3: “Lely took time out in 1656 to pay a visit to Charles junior [i.e. the future Charles II], then in exile in the Netherlands. It was a shrewd move on Lely’s behalf.” (listen from about 32 minutes 50 secs). Clearly the meaning here is “on Lely’s part”.
Consider these two sentences:
1) This needs careful team work on the part of the singers.
2) This needs careful team work on behalf of the singers.
Sentence 1 means that the singers need to work carefully together in order to benefit themselves. Sentence 2, on the other hand, means that some other group needs to work carefully together in order for the singers to benefit. What a shame if we introduce ambiguity into the language by losing the first of these expressions.

May 24, 2017
by gpointon

A pre-internet troll

In sorting through a box of miscellaneous papers the other day, I came across this letter, which the recipient, a BBC newsreader, gave me at some point (it is undated). I have replaced all names with initials, for obvious reasons. The address from which it was written is limited to the name of the county.

“Dear ZY,

This is to tell you that I think you have a revolting voice – very unpleasant timbre, too high pitched for a male newsreader, sounds like a young child’s.

Some time ago I wrote to XW, who suffers from the same problems, and asked him to tell you and VU.

Since then the worst of all, TS, has come back from what I hoped was the dead.

The very second I hear your voices or an announcement saying you’re about to begin, I switch off as I don’t want to be sick.

I keep hoping something will happen soon to all of you so the news can be read by people with pleasant voices.”

[signed illegibly – of course!]

No comment is necessary.

April 12, 2017
by gpointon

A sad time

I had started to think that someone in the BBC hierarchy had issued an edict that the Syrian president’s name should be pronounced by all journalists in accordance with the Pronunciation Unit’s recommendation, with stress on the first syllable of his family name: ASSad. This was because I was hearing not only Jeremy Bowen (Middle East Editor) and Lyse Doucet (Chief International Correspondent), who have both spent a lot of time in the Middle East, and clearly know the subject inside out, pronouncing it this way – as they have been doing for as long as I can remember, but also Jon Sopel (North America Editor), who will be constantly hearing other pronunciations (including the strange ‘aSHAAD’ from the Trump administration yesterday) from Americans around him, and John Humphrys, who seems to have come round to it in recent days. However, my hope seems to have been misplaced: Sophie Raworth, presenting the 10 o’clock news last night, and Sarah Montague and Nick Robinson on the Today programme on Radio 4 this morning, after a single occurrence of ASSad, reverted to type with multiple pronunciations with stress on the second syllable, even when immediately following a speaker who managed to get it right.

The fault doesn’t only lie with the people we hear on radio and television, but must be traced back to their editors who cannot distinguish between the needs of written and spoken journalism. All written media outlets have a style guide which, among other things, specifies which spellings of contentious names will be used in their publications. One of the most notorious was Qaddafi (or was that Ghaddafi, Gaddafy, or something else?) Surely it behoves the editors of the spoken media to maintain the same standards in speech? The BBC does have a style guide, but does the most recent version of it even mention pronunciation? I’m not talking about standardising pronunciation to the extent of demanding a single accent from its speakers, but that names be standardised in order not to confuse the audience. Why shouldn’t editors and producers be under the same cosh as Radio 4 (and Radio 2, Radio 3 and World Service) newsreaders that they WILL follow the recommendations of the Pronunciation Unit? This is a policy decision made by what was then called the Board of Management of the BBC; it was published and I have never seen an official amendment to it. If there has been one, I should be very pleased to see it.


February 2, 2017
by gpointon

Mistakes or Neologisms?

Whenever I hear a word that is new to me, or is used in a new way, I now take the precaution of looking in the OED before claiming in these posts that it is either a mistake or a neologism. Two usages have come to my ears this week which have sent me scuttling in that direction, both heard on the BBC Radio 4 ‘Today’ programme.

The first was on Tuesday, when Emma McNally, organiser of the Women’s March in London on Sunday 29 January 2017, was interviewed. She used the word ‘precarity’ /priˈkarɪti/, which was completely new to me. My immediate reaction was that this was a neologism to replace ‘precariousness’, which is what she seemed to mean in the context. I didn’t have immediate access to the OED, but a handy iPhone gave me several on-line dictionaries which defined it as “a term used by sociologists to refer to the spread of contingent work and insecure employment within the labour market. The term is also used to refer to the subjective condition of those who experience insecure work.” (quoted by Oxford Reference website from A Dictionary of Human Resource Management). So my initial feeling was correct, but if it has been coined to cover a meaning in sociology which may be called part of the sociologist’s professional jargon, then ‘precariousness’ is still probably the better form to use in a general situation. The OED itself does not yet have an entry for ‘precarity’, with any meaning.

Second, this morning (2 February 2017), John McDonnell, the Shadow Chancellor of the Exchequer, twice said that MPs who voted against the Labour Party’s leadership in the Brexit vote the night before would have to “wrest with their consciences”. I’m becoming used to people saying ‘wrestle’ when they mean ‘wrest’, but this is the first time I’ve heard the opposite.

Also in this morning’s ‘Today’ programme, the BBC’s political journalist Ian Watson said that some Labour whips had “flaunted” their leadership’s instructions by voting against the same Bill.

And there was more to come: Melvyn Bragg, and at least two of the contributors to his ‘In Our Time’ programme about Hannah Arendt, called her /əˈrent/, with stress on the second syllable, a pronunciation I can’t find given for her in any of my reference books. I know that speakers of US English often stress ‘foreign’ names automatically on the last syllable, possible because it “must be” more authentic, but these were all British English speakers, and ought to have known better. Where did they get this from? For the record, /ˈɑːrənt/ is the only pronunciation given by the Oxford BBC Guide to Pronunciation.

January 18, 2017
by gpointon

More malapropisms

Following my last post, there seems to have been a spate of malapropisms perpetrated (not perpetuated!) by eminent people on radio and television.

The leader of the populist British political party UKIP, Paul Nuttall, described Donald Trump as an anglophobe in a Radio 4 interview, a faux pas that was later reported by both the Daily Mirror newspaper and Independent Television News; and someone whose name I failed to record reported that an action was ‘pampered’ by a decision made elsewhere, when surely the word needed was ‘prompted’.

In two of these three cases (the original one I noted was ‘indictment’ for – presumably – ‘endorsement’) the sense was completely reversed from what – again presumably – was intended, which is worrying for those of us who think, probably wrongly, that public speakers should have an adequate knowledge of the language they are speaking to get their meaning across without the listener having to work hard to disentangle it. The third case is more puzzling, unless it was a momentary blip in the brain-tongue communication channel (after all, both words start with /p/, and contain another ‘p’ in the spelling, and in both cases the second ‘p’ is preceded by an ‘m’).

January 11, 2017
by gpointon

Gates Foundation philanthropy not good enough!

The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation has given $9 million to a Cambridgeshire company for research into infectious diseases.

Clearly, the company is not satisfied! Paul Kellam, the VP of Infectious Services for the company, Kymab, told BBC Look East that this grant was an indictment of the research capabilities of the company and the Cambridge area.

The BBC cannot be blamed for this error, but it has been broadcast twice – in both the 18.30 and the 22.30 bulletins. Shouldn’t somebody have noticed in the six hours in between the two?

November 4, 2016
by gpointon

More on dental fricatives

In a recent post, Jane Setter wrote about the possible future loss of the dental fricatives (/θ, ð/) from English, in favour of /f,v/. I also wrote not so long ago about the confusion between these two pairs of fricatives here. I’ve since heard another hypercorrection: “sheathes of corn”.

This tendency to hypercorrection could be another indication that the dental fricatives will disappear: people who are certain of the ‘correctness’ of their pronunciation will have no problem distinguishing these sounds and putting them in the traditional places correctly. Am I right in thinking that it is only when uncertainty creeps in that a fear of getting it ‘wrong’ will lead to overcorrection? As this uncertainty spreads, will it not lead first to the two pairs of sounds becoming merely free variants, and then to the one which is supposedly more difficult to articulate disappearing altogether?

I am being very tentative, as predictions for the future course of language development are always no more than guesses.

September 12, 2016
by gpointon

How many ways to skin a cat?

I don’t usually watch the BBC’s science programme “The Sky at Night”, but last night I accidentally caught the beginning, and was hooked for the full half hour. What struck me, apart from the science, was the number of ways the various participants found to pronounce the name of a star: Proxima Centauri.

Proxima: /ˈprɒksɪmə/, /prɒkˈsiːmə/, and /prɒkˈsɪmə/

Centauri: /senˈtɔːraɪ/, /senˈtɔːri/, /senˈtjʊəri/

No pronunciation of one of the words necessarily corresponded to any one of that of the other, so that there were more than three pronunciations for the phrase (and there weren’t that many more speakers). My own preference would have been for the first in each case: /ˈprɒksɪmə senˈtɔːraɪ/, but I accept that my use of the traditional rendition of Latin vowels in English is now rather old-fashioned. I often hear people use /aɪ/ for the spelling ‘ae’, and /ɪ~i/ for the spelling ‘i’, on the grounds that “That is how they said it in Latin”. Why then will the same people not consistently – or ever – use /k/ for the spelling ‘c’? Or /w/ for the spelling ‘v’? I suspect it is because the “That’s how they said it” argument is being made by people who never learned any Latin formally and so don’t really know what they’re talking about.

But then, when did language ever change because people knew what they were talking about?