O Tempora! O Mores!

This post was sparked by a comment that I made on another blogger’s post (her name is Homegirl), in which I mistakenly assumed that she had misquoted the old saying “the pot calling the kettle black.” I was wrong. She had intentionally changed it, for reasons that I understand and respect. But this tendency in modern writing and editing greatly concerns me, so I wish to explore this topic further.

Words have meanings, both dictionary meanings (denotations) and implied or understood meanings (connotations). What I believe Homegirl said in her response to my comment is that the connotations of the word “black” cause her to avoid it, even when it requires her to change a centuries-old aphorism that refers to the color of an inanimate object. Is this wise or is it dangerous?

If we are writers, do we not have a responsibility to use the language properly, respectfully, and carefully, with the object of demonstrating to our audiences that words have legitimate uses and that we uphold the legitimate use while eschewing the illegitimate or intentionally offensive? And do we not, as speakers in the public arena, have a responsibility to stand, very firmly, for the idea that “fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself” — that is, fear of a word generates chimerical fears — fears of things that need not be feared?

I got into this sort of debate once with my senior editor. Every time she saw the word “like” in a piece, she replaced it, sometimes contorting the wording to the point that it confused the meaning and destroyed the readability of the piece. According to this editor, “like” must never be used as a comparative conjunction. She said that “like” could only be used to mean “having affection for,” as in I like my cat. She told me that if I would read my Bible, I would find that Jesus never used the word “like.” I ended the conversation with statement that, as we were in the business of producing curricula for religious education, we had a responsibility to demonstrate to our students the correct usage of language, and that we, as editors, did not have the right to perpetrate idiosyncracies of usage that could not be supported with a dictionary and a recognized, authoritative style manual.

(That editor’s declaration about Jesus’ never using “like” comparatively was a challenge I could not ignore. I went to the Bible, using Strong’s to look up “like” in the New Testament. And some of the first words I read of Jesus’ were, of course, “The kingdom of Heaven is like unto….” — a comparative use if ever I saw one. )

This is a topic on which I would like to hear the writing community’s thoughts. Do we, as writers and editors, have the responsibility to educate both with the words that we write and with the way in which we use (or refuse to use) them? Or is there a place for changing even the established means of expression when they cause discomfort? What criteria should be applied?

Tags: aphorisms, usage