Degrees of extravagant exaggeration
‘Absolutely. That’s why I did it.’ Possibly heard on the radio or in everyday conversation. Sounds fine. But what about the word ‘absolutely’? Is this just an emphatic ‘yes’. Strangely, simply saying ‘yes’ is probably more effective; the word ‘absolutely’, which means something very different, is a distraction, often sounding insincere (the opposite of its intention).
Hyperbole and comparatives
In our writing we are encouraged to keep statements as simple and as accurate as possible. This is because directness is more effective. But in many instances we feel this is not enough; we mix in hyperbole and comparatives. We see this in marketing material: ‘This incredibly effective solution can deliver real solutions.’ Lots to comment on here, but why jump to the extreme? ‘This effective solution’ is probably enough; or ‘this very effective solution’; or even ‘this most effective solution’ (starting to sound pompous); then we have ‘extremely effective’, and then, perhaps, ‘incredibly effective’. It is so effective we cannot believe it? This is typical of a type of emphasis word that marks our text as over-written and over-stated, making it weaker. As for ‘real solution’ (as against ‘unreal solution’) that is for another time.
Overstate and undermine
By overstating we undermine. Many of these words and phrases are fine in conversation but we must be (very) sure of their relevance before using them in written text. Literally.
The apostrophe – we really can’t do without it
Recently I read about a campaign dedicated to doing away with the apostrophe. I paused at the thought and whilst understanding the sentiment (though not sharing it) I concluded that the confusion over its use is exaggerated.
Most of us feel comfortable using the possessive in our writing: we use it as a substitute for ‘of’. Simple enough. But there are uses that sometimes throw us. As usual, it is not so much a matter of what is correct as what choice we make. And I am not thinking of ‘it’s’ and ‘its’ here.
Choices
For example, I worked on a booklet originally entitled ‘home buyer guide’. Is this statement enough to make the intention of the article clear? Consider the choices listed for a guide targeted at those buying a home:
- home buyer guide
- home-buyer guide
- home buyer’s guide
- home-buyer’s guide
- home-buyers’ guide.
As it stands, the original title is at best ambiguous, and at worst, completely misleading. ‘Home buyer guide’ could mean a guide for the home buyer (to something not stated), or a guide to buying a home (specifically). Which is it? When we add the hyphen (home-buyer) it settles the matter. Or does it? Could it now mean a guide to understanding home buyers? So we need to take this further to ensure this is a guide for someone buying a home.
Clarifying meaning
Does the apostrophe or a hyphen clarify what I mean? Do I need both? Since there is a missing article (‘the’) is this really an implied plural: a guide for many or all home buyers?
The ‘for’ apostrophe
Enter the apostrophe to help us: ‘home-buyer’s guide’. That’s better. But, unravelled, the possessive does not replace ‘of’, but ‘for’: a guide for a home buyer, as in ‘Parents’ guide to local schools’, or ‘A guide for parents to local schools’.
Numbers
Is it for one home buyer, or many? The position of the apostrophe will tell us. I suspect the booklet is aimed at all potential home buyers, and so I would write ‘home-buyers’ guide’.
A necessity
Is that enough? Probably. I might add ‘the’, to round out the sense of it being definitive (‘a’ places it as one of many guides). The result, ‘The home-buyers’ guide’, might be the best choice. Whatever I choose, the apostrophe helps clarify my meaning. Without it we would all be kept guessing. I suspect we really cannot do without it.
Academic and business writing – debts and burdens
What is striking about the patterns of writing in business is how much they owe to the academic world. And the cursed ‘gift’ of writing in the passive voice is just one of them. Since the incidence of graduates in business roles that require report writing is high, it is not surprising they adopt an approach that owes so much to producing essays. Are there differences between the academic and business writer? Look at the typical characteristics of academic writing: complexity, formality, objectivity, explicitness, hedging, and responsibility. These are common in business writing, except the overt ‘hedging’. But the academic approach is consensual, seeking acceptance, whereas business documents record or provide information for decision-making; so business writing is generally more functional. Except when it has to be persuasive; marketing exploits an emotional response to the subject matter – something very far from the academic ideal.
The gap
Despite academic influences, a complaint of managers is how poorly equipped many graduates are for business writing. This is largely anecdotal but we in Freshword have encountered this performance gap on a regular basis. There is statistical information on this (see our own Freshword survey) but we suspect it is not so much an understanding of the function of business writing that is the main challenge, but competence in the basics of good writing, such as grammar, spelling and effective sentence construction. I sense graduates leave the academic world celebrating the fact that they never have to do an essay again, only to be confronted by the greater risks and tighter deadlines of business reports.
The pursuit of truth
It is said that academic inquiry (and writing) is the pursuit of truth, where facts are distinguished from opinions and relative truths are distinguished from absolute truths. These are subtleties that the business world doesn’t really recognise. Adjusting to them can be a confusing process.
Dictionaries – when one is not enough
When looking up the use of a word recently it was suggested I use a dictionary by Funk & Wagnalls, because, I was told, this dictionary is recognised on both sides of the Atlantic1. Is it? I had never heard of it, and as a non-fiction, business and specialist writer I use dictionaries a lot. This ignorance on my part could simply be a personal failing, but it made me think about dictionaries in general.
Hard or soft?
I always ask delegates on a business-writing course whether or not they have a dictionary on their desk. A nice big, fat dictionary. Of course, the majority do not, and a number have pocket dictionaries. Most rely on Internet dictionaries (such as Oxford Dictionaries Online), or, most commonly, MS Word’s inbuilt spell-checking dictionary. Dictionaries are essential tools for writers, and I include anyone who writes at work; in the information economy, that is nearly all of us.
How many of us can use a dictionary? The easy answer is we all can. We simply look up the word in alphabetical order and check the meaning, or spelling. And then we discover there is more than one meaning, or an unexpected spelling. If, by chance, we have a second dictionary, we might look it up again to sometimes discover the spelling differs, or the usage is slightly different (and we went to the dictionary expecting an ‘exact’ answer).
How many?
So, now what? Generally, I turn to a third dictionary and when two out of three agree, I go with the majority view. However, if all three of my dictionaries are US, then I might get a different result from mixing a US, a UK and another English-speaking dictionary, such as an Australian dictionary. And so on.
So do I rely on Funk & Wagnalls? Should I buy that dictionary and add it to my collection? As a writer I need all the tools I can get. Perhaps a visit to Amazon is in order.
[1] Wikipedia tells us that Funk & Wagnalls first published The Standard Dictionary of the English Language in 1894, and an encyclopaedia in 1912. This is based upon Chambers’s Encyclopaedia. The Encyclopaedia Britannica notes it is a ‘family of English-language dictionaries noted for their emphasis on ease of use and current usage.’
Why do we write at work?
At work we are awash with written material – reports accumulate, letters pile up, and emails swell our inboxes. The picture is that of a complex mass of information, circulating throughout the organisation, constantly replenished. But it is often the case that even the most complex of things can be reduced to relatively simple ideas. So what is the purpose of all this writing? A bit of an open question, but it does have a simple answer that we can test in all business circumstances. The purpose is to help someone make a decision.
Information
The vast amount of written and spoken information passing through every organisation is to help someone, somewhere, at some point, make a decision about something; ideally, to make an ‘informed’ decision. Once we grasp this, all comments about the primacy of the reader, the language and expressions we use, the data and facts we select, are part of a coherent message about the role of ‘information’.
Opinion or fact?
Yet so much information is really opinion. If I write a document it might be to record something, an incident, an accident, the minutes of a meeting. I filter the facts and value accuracy. Or, I might want to inform, present information that I believe is useful to the reader. I value relevance. I might be tasked with coming up with a solution to a dilemma or a challenge, so now my problem-solving abilities are valued. And very often, I have to persuade someone to accept something, or do something.
Is all writing the same?
In business we inform, record, solve and persuade. Does this differ from other writing? Are business circumstances so different that our writing at work is unique? What about creative writing, academic writing, scientific writing, technical writing? Are these part of the business picture? In some cases they are. This takes us back to the central question – the purpose of writing. It is the purpose that separates one approach from another.
A supplemental question – appendix or annex?
What is the difference between an ‘appendix’ and an ‘annex’? This is a common question in report writing courses. If you look for a definitive explanation the result is confusion: there are as many answers as there are ‘authorities’.
A standard answer?
When researching style guides I noted that in one style guide for authors who write engineering standards1 that an appendix is ‘informative’, whereas an annex is ‘normative’. That is, an appendix provides additional, non-obligatory information, whereas the information in the annex contributes to the standard (set of rules, obligations) to be followed. Essentially there is a ‘must have’ (annex) and a ‘nice to have’ (appendix) division between the two.
Yet one of the official international technical writing guides2 has an ‘Annex A (informative Bibliography)’. It refers to the annex as ‘informative’, rather than ‘normative’; and, generally, good practice places a bibliography in the main body of a document, rather than in an appendix, or an annex. So even the rigorous and painstaking instructions for ‘standards’, and standards for writing standards, vary in their usage. Another body, The World Trade Organization3, is typical of thosethat use annexes as legal amendments to agreements; or have appendixes, which in turn have annexes, that summarise the commitments of the parties.
Stand-alone or authorship?
Some argue that the defining quality of an annex is that it is stand-alone. But so are many appendices. Others argue that the authorship separates the two: an appendix is written by the author of the main document, and an annex is written by someone else. Maybe it’s a matter of length: short – an addendum; longer – an annex; longest – an appendix. Or is it another way round? Even the spelling varies, ‘appendices’ (Oxford Style Manual), ‘appendixes’ for many dictionaries, hard copy and online. For the Oxford Guide to Style, ‘appendix’ and ‘annexe’ are interchangeable.
Specific practice
Is this distinction important? It must be for it to be made. This is apart from the way appendices are frequently abused, as dumping grounds for irrelevant information when the author is in ‘kitchen-sink’ mode (I’ll add this – just in case). I’ve seen reports where the appendices are simply an accumulation of earlier reports, regardless of relevance.
Both words indicate a supplement to the information in the main body of a document or a book. Beyond that it seems the answer is based on very specific practice. This is yet another case of making sure you have an opinion that everyone involved agrees with; or, at least, the guidance of a company style guide.
1. Style Manual for Standards and Other Publications of JEDEC
2. International Standard ISO 690-2, ‘Information and documentation — Bibliographic references — Part 2: Electronic documents or parts thereof’
3. World Trade Organization, legal texts. http://www.wto.org/english/docs_e/legal_e/legal_e.htm
Content wrangling
I was intrigued by a recent Skilfair consultancy posting for a ‘Web consultant/content wrangler’. Here was a new term, to me at least: ‘content wrangling’.
The posting stated that The Peak District National Park Authority ‘is looking for a talented, enthusiastic, web editor with the skills, vision and experience to update and create content for the Authority’s websites and intranet’. Then we reached the point of explanation. ‘You’ll also have the people skills to wrangle content out of busy staff and then translate their words into snappy copy.’
Herding words
I Googled ‘content wrangler’ and could not find a definition other than a catch-all expression for those who write for a website and work on ‘content strategies’. So this is ‘wrangling’. From the posting I imagined ‘wrangle’ to be close to ‘wheedle’ (OECD, wheedle: ‘coax into doing…persuade by flattery or endearments); perhaps not. So what is wrangle? OECD, wrangle: ‘brawl, (engage in) loud or angry argument or altercation or quarrel; herd (cattle)’. Surely not that. But what of ‘wrangler’? (OECD: ‘cowboy…’). The authority is looking for a cowboy to engage in angry arguments with staff? Now I’m confused. I suppose that might lead to bad-tempered or ‘snappy’ copy. And then, of course, I made the association between wrangler and jeans, and jeans and cowboys, herding cattle, herding words, and so on. So perhaps this was part tongue-in-cheek: someone who whips round the office shouting ‘yeehaah’ as they wrangle (herd) words from busy staff.
Content is king
There are ‘content wranglers’ out there. On investigation they still approve of text like ‘using personalized URLs and variable data cross-media marketing technologies with amazing results’; closer to content ‘mangling’. Returning to the original posting, perhaps I am missing the spirit of the thing. Yet this is a tender requirement and accuracy is critical. The danger is that in an attempt to be casual and web-savvy we risk projecting a less than professional image. Wranglers state that ‘content is king’; but a king is nothing without authority.
Count me in
It is surprising how words tell us so much about numbers. One test I do is to ask what is wrong with ‘Discuss this between yourselves’, when addressed to a room full of people. Generally the reaction is: there’s nothing wrong. Ideally I would expect the word ‘between’ to be replaced by ‘among’ (or ‘amongst’). The distinction being one of number: ‘between’ implies two people, whereas ‘among’ suggests more than two. A room full of people is more than two. In discussion this is no big deal; there are enough nonverbal messages for the meaning to be clear. But in writing this distinction is important. If I write ‘discuss this between yourselves’, I give a clue as to how many people are involved. It might be a surprise when you discover I was talking of a large number of people.
A variation on the number theme is the way we quantify, using specific words. Lesser or fewer? Which is correct? As ever, it depends on the context. ‘Ten items or less’, Tesco tells us as we queue patiently. That sounds OK. But it is grammatically incorrect. ‘Fewer’ is the correct word choice. Take the sugar test: less sugar in my tea, and fewer sugar lumps in my tea. If I reverse these two I can see the error: fewer sugar in my tea? Or, fewer milk in my coffee? So ‘less’ for quantity or amount, and ‘fewer’ for numbers.
In an article in The Telegraph (in 2008), Tom Peterkin noted that the Oxford University Press suggested: ‘Less means “not as much”. Fewer means “not as many”. Now we have ‘much’ and ‘many’; more number clues. He also gave the example of referring to quantities: ‘we say less than six weeks, not fewer than six weeks, because we are not referring to six individual weeks, but to a single period of time lasting six weeks.’ He noted, then, that Tesco was going to change its sign to read: ‘Up to ten items’, but only for new stores. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen that sign.
Oliver Kamm, ‘The Pedant’, looked at this numbers game recently in his column in The Times. He touches on a few more instances such as the ‘no less than’ construction. ‘No less than six chapters are devoted to the subject.’ Or should this be ‘no fewer than’? The point he makes is that the six chapters are not so much items, as the quantity of space in the book. So ‘less than’ can work here.
However we work it, number clues in our writing are important; we should pay attention to their subtleties If Tesco bends the language that doesn’t mean we should. It’s not that we are being pedantic, but when it comes to communicating clearly ‘every little helps…’

