Saturday, February 28, 2009

Avoiding elegant variation

Here's an example of confusing elegant variation:
Born in Woodmere, Long Island , on May 22, 1930, Milk was the younger of two boys in a family descended from Lithuanian Jews on both sides. (Their last name was originally Milch.) Milk's paternal grandfather maintained strong ties to the synagogue he helped build in his grandson's hometown.
(Als, Revolutionary Road (March 12, 2009) The New York Review of Books at p. 8.)

Take a few seconds correcting the final sentence to eliminate elegant variation.

If you assume avoiding elegant variation means repeating proximate words, you substituted "Milk's" for "his grandson's." The cure, here, is worse than the disease: surfeit of Milk gags the reader. The writer gains Concision and avoids both elegant variation and cacophony by substituting "Woodmere" for "his grandson's hometown."

Sunday, February 22, 2009

May even contracts be euphonious

Fowler ( complained elegant variation — replacing nearby repeated words with synonyms — was the unfortunate offspring of popular rules against word repetition, but today, the rule against elegant variation begets excessive tolerance of expressive monotony, with elegant variation blamed for effects of other writing vices. Consider this example, from Wayne Schiess:
The U.N has been working in the region for more than three years and says it has been making progress in resolving conflicts among factions. Local officials, however, are not as enthusiastic about the work done by the world union.

Wayne thinks the elegantly varied "U.N." momentarily confused him, but "enthusiastic" — ambiguous on whether comparing local leaders' enthusiasm to the U.N.'s work or its self-praise — is the main problem. The reader must look to the succeeding phrases to disambiguate enthusiasm's object and, misleadingly, first encounters "work," not speech. "World union" wouldn't confuse except for the ambiguity of "enthusiasm" and the subsequent misdirection. Changing "enthusiastic" to "favorable" clarifies the sentence, even retaining the elegant variation; deleting the final phrases ("about the work done by the world union"), without substitution, entirely avoids the forced choice between Euphony and Clarity.

High tolerance of repeated proximate words is more justified in transactional law than in brief writing. From overemphasis in its transactional stronghold, this tolerance generalized to all legal writing. But Euphony, although subordinate to Clarity, remains relevant in drafting. I disagree with Greg Kochansky when he writes, "A contract is like a computer program. It's meant to be dry, boring and supremely consistent." ( Consistent, yes, but, if Clarity doesn't conflict, a contract drafter — seeking to persuade a party to sign and, sometimes, a court to enforce — should strive for Euphony.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Proofreading & Credibility

Every authority preaches typographical errors kill courtroom credibility, although typos don't refute arguments. Credibility in a legal brief takes two forms. A brief gains intellectual credibility by demonstrating legal mastery, moral credibility by creating a fair-minded impression. These two forms of credibility arise from different sources. Since intellectual credibility comes from demonstrated competence, writing authorities connect the curse of typos with intellectual credibility's loss, but proofreading skill doesn't measure high intellect. Writing teachers may confess they proofread poorly, and some intellectually competitive environments are indifferent to typos. (See, e.g., [writing teacher].)

Typos are "immoral" in a social context of superior/inferior stratified relations; competitive environments indifferent to typos are egalitarian. Proofreading is part "formality," socially mandatory courtesy in upward communication. The judge, courtroom social superior, doesn't deprecate incompetence at proofreading but stinginess with editorial resources, the moral offense of presumption. Dishonoring formalities brings threat, not disdain, explaining proofreading's importance when it meagerly enhances Clarity and Attractiveness.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Formula and formality

The "plain-language" movement responded to the incomprehensible business letter after correspondence became a fundamental business tool, but the cultural changes of the 1960s also propelled business and legal writing in a new direction. Plain writing is a movement for Concision and Clarity and, equally, informality. Writing advice often confuses the two plain-language agendas: communicative efficiency and social-power-distance reduction. Espousal of both purposes by one writing school helps explain their confusion, as does their relation to different senses of "formality." One sense is "strict adherence to established rules and procedures; rigidity"; another is "observance of form or ceremony.” ( Formalities in the sense of ceremony impose rule-based rigidities, but not all rule-based rigidities come from formalities; much rigidity arises from wrong ideas about effective writing. The difference is important because the remedy for practices based on bad writing advice is elimination, for practices based on formality, moderation. Formalities also raise special problems of consistency; so getting the formality level consistently wrong can be better than occasional tonal inappropriateness.

Degrees of formality in writing express near-universal differences in personal address and related language use depending on conversers' social proximity and status. Friends may use forms of speech different from strangers, subordinates to social superiors different still. Where relationships with strangers and social unequals are fraught with hostility, forms serve to contain emotion by sacrificing communicative liberty. Modulating social distance through formality rigidifies language, but not all formulaic writing is rooted in formality. Native speakers grasp the distinction between social formality and pragmatic usage rule because a sense of social misstep or shame accompanies a true formality violation. To observers, our violation of the social formalities creates a perception of social impropriety, not merely communicative ineptitude. The first test is the introspection test. Do you say, "the court should order" or "plaintiff requests that the court order." Usually the first is better, but the second may be justifiable because its level of formality is higher. You can feel how the first nakedly asserts what in a less direct era requires a more indirect approach. You should adjust level of formality according to local custom; breaching the expected level of formality expresses egalitarianism, unwise courtroom politics more than inferior writing.

Since formalities are rules of respect, they apply to any medium, writing and speaking. The second test to distinguish formalities from errors, the speech test, is whether on formal occasions you speak as you write. You don't avoid contractions when speaking to strangers or superiors, showing that contraction avoidance isn't a formality. You should emphasize the test with the clearest results, and for contractions the speech test clarifies how much contraction avoidance rests on bad advice about effective practices rather than on formality. Negative modal verbs — such as "can't," "don't," "won't" — are contracted freely in speaking regardless of conversers' comparative social status. The introspection test confirms the speech test. Using these contractions doesn't offend a conversational partner, but contractions of participles fare differently. We don't use the contraction "would've" on formal occasions. We pronounce this contraction like "would of," and its enunciation involves a relaxed, slurring of consonants, showing minimal respect for status. Such manner of speaking is subtly insulting to those styled social superiors, even when their superiority is only procedural. More casual still is the negative of the past participle — for example, "wouldn't've." In legal writing, use the first class of contractions but not the formality-breaking second and third.