I’ve previously approached
this stylistic distinction through a construal-level-theory analysis; linguist
John McWhorter implies similar conclusions by his insights into the most
informal written forms, such as text messaging, through which he highlights the
distinctive character of conversation and from which derive many of the customs
of social media. With educated talkers using sentences of only 7 to 10 words,
the “grand old defining properties” of spoken language (due to talking being “largely
subconscious and rapid,” writing and reading “deliberate and slow”) are “brevity,
improvisation, and in-the-moment quality.” As McWhorter (“Talking
with Your Fingers,” (April 2012)) assesses the state of contemporary
language, “Two forms of language coexist in societies: choppy speech and
crafted prose.”
Some
combinations of the two forms succeed. McWhorter mentions one example: the anthropological
novelists combined formal prose with dialog imitating speech. Another
intermediate form is of key interest to legal-brief writers: the practical
style adapts the formal-prose style to expressing belief rather than opinion.
These are careful exceptions to the general rule that combining informal and
formal styles is just bad writing. (The “formal-prose” style shouldn’t be
confused with the “writing
formalities,” which should be compromised.)
But the “plain-writing”
trend advises writers to craft choppy prose! Trying to satisfy simultaneously the formal ideal of
far-mode clarity and the informal ideal of near-mode immediacy and spontaneity
is usually misguided, and perhaps it is also misguided to combine them successively—in different pieces. Can
you be a master of both styles, while using them at different times for
different purposes? Maybe, but probably not. Each style has its own habits, and
writers who practice a great deal of conversation (whether by talking or texting)
often seem to do so to
their writing detriment; and the reverse, formal writers may deteriorate as
conversationalists.
Improving at one
task (such as conversation) conflicts with improving at another (such as formal
writing) when they call for similar but different responses to the same or
similar situations. An example of tasks calling for different responses to the same situation is typing using Dvorak
and QWERTY layouts: if the task is
typing a comma, you must type what would be a ‘w’ on a QWERTY keyboard, and you will lose proficiency
in making one response by learning the other. An example calling for
different responses to similar situations
is executing a forehand drive in tennis and table tennis: practicing one harms
the other. Learning a task negatively
transfers to the other when the latter requires inhibiting the response
first learned; the extra effort to inhibit the behavior previously practiced
makes it harder. If you practice Dvorak, you’ll have to inhibit the habit of
typing ‘w’ when you type a comma; if you practice tennis, you'll have to
inhibit your tendency to minimize wrist action when playing table tennis.
McWhorter
explains, “Spoken language is fundamental, while written language is an
artifice.” The habits, even instincts, ingrained in talk are the primary
targets of inhibition in crafting formal prose; practicing talk, whether by
actually talking, texting, or writing in the plain-talk style, harms your formal writing. But,
just as some few may productively use different typing layouts, individuals
probably vary in the harm to their formal writing due to negative transfer from
conversation or informal writing.
