Tag Archives: dictionary

Susie Dent in conversation with Denise Cowle

This year’s CIEP conference was held online, from 2 to 4 November. Attendees from all over the world logged on to learn and socialise with their fellow editors and proofreaders, and a number of delegates kindly volunteered to write up the sessions for us. Anna Baildon reviewed Susie Dent in conversation with Denise Cowle, the CIEP’s marketing director.

Denise Cowle presenting a session at the 2019 SfEP conference.

In the words of our chair, Hugh Jackson, this was ‘perhaps the most eagerly anticipated and most talked-about [session] of the conference’.

Susie Dent became our honorary vice-president in January 2016, and 2020 is the first year that conference has not fallen on a Countdown recording day, thus freeing her up to join us. She must be the UK’s most famous contemporary lexicographer and etymologist, and is a familiar broadcaster and writer.

Denise Cowle, our marketing director, did a superb job of facilitating the conversation, drawing on questions submitted by members. She seemed calm in the hot seat, as if interviewing such high-profile folk is what she does every day.

Susie spoke about her pre-TV career, mentioning her ‘nerdy interest’ in language. She admitted to having ‘no clue’ about what to do after university, and that lexicography had not always been her long-term plan. In 1992, while working at Oxford University Press (OUP) on English and bilingual dictionaries, her OUP boss persuaded her to give Countdown a go. She had declined Channel 4’s invitation four times as she is more comfortable ‘flying below the radar’ than being in the spotlight. Perhaps there’s an interesting point here about serendipitous professional opportunities being won by going beyond your comfort zone.

Denise asked Susie to speculate on what path her career might have taken if she hadn’t joined Countdown. Susie thought she would probably still be in publishing, ideally working on the Oxford English Dictionary (OED). When asked if she had ever considered editing or proofreading as a career, Susie said that she wouldn’t be suited to these careers as she wasn’t particularly pedantic about language. But she did say she was most interested in focusing on clarity and eloquence and observing usage rather than adhering rigidly to established rules.

Susie Dent, honorary vice-president of the Society for Editors and Proofreaders

Susie Dent

The discussion turned to Countdown filming. It sounds pretty intensive; twice a month, the team gathers to do three days of filming to produce 15 shows. This gives Susie predictable gaps between filming, in which she can focus on her writing. Shorter pieces and those which can be written in chunks suit this timetable. Susie seemed apprehensive about writing fiction because of the pressure to produce a ‘linguistic wow’, but she did mention the possibility of writing under a pseudonym.

On the question of paper versus online dictionaries, Susie was firmly in favour of online for currency. She said she could envisage the demise of printed dictionaries, but interestingly she said there is a significant gift market in the US for the OED, despite the hefty price tag!

Denise asked Susie about 2020’s neologisms. A favourite of Susie’s is ‘quarantini’. After explaining the etymology of ‘quarantine’, she said she would not expect ‘quarantini’ (and many other COVID-19-related terms) to survive for long. She mentioned that some neologisms gain longevity if they are riffed upon and spawn new, related words, while others become dated and fall out of usage.

Susie talked about her word-of-the-day tweets. She usually avoids politics, aiming instead to choose something beautiful, amusing or topical. Her word for 3 November was ‘empleomania’, meaning ‘the overweening and manic desire to hold public office at any cost’. Make of this what you will! On the subject of word choices, her favourite word from her book How to Talk Like a Local is her selection for 1 January: ‘crambazzled’, a Yorkshire word meaning ‘prematurely aged from excessive drinking’.

Denise asked Susie about the hiccup with her latest book, Word Perfect, published in October. Susie explained that the book had been published using the wrong version of the text, with errors left in, after a pressurised production schedule owing to backlogs caused by COVID-19. She had questioned the title as potentially asking for trouble! I’m sure Denise’s sympathy was shared by everyone watching as Susie described how mortified she had felt. She wisely ‘decided to try to smile’ about it, tweeted to explain things, and in fact received no criticism. Nevertheless, she said that some lalochezia had been very useful!

It was interesting to hear about Susie’s broader experience of having her work edited, especially her view of the process as collaborative. She likes to work with copyeditors with whom she has an existing relationship, especially for book projects. She has had some issues when writing for newspapers, such as the addition of clickbait headings, or the meaning being twisted because the tone of voice has been changed.

Susie mentioned her work on the Something Rhymes with Purple podcast with Gyles Brandreth. She came to agree with Gyles, who told her that ‘it’s the most you thing you’ve ever done’. She thinks this is because it has a simplicity and intimacy, unlike studio work. I thought this chimed well with ‘flying below the radar’.

One of the final questions Susie answered was about her current reading. She is re-reading Our Mutual Friend and Tess of the D’Urbervilles for a forthcoming programme with Gyles on the language of Dickens and Hardy, but they are also two of her favourite novels.

I hope these selected highlights give a flavour of the event for those unable to attend. The session was a joy to watch, so let’s hope we have the pleasure of Susie’s company at future conferences. She was warm, professional and generous in sharing her love of language.

Anna Baildon is an Entry-Level Member and is relishing CIEP training to strengthen her expertise. She has worked in niche librarian roles in higher education and has significant experience in wrangling non-fiction copy into a publishable state. Anna has degrees in English literature and librarianship and a lifelong affinity with words. She plans to freelance, offering both copyediting and proofreading services.


Posted by Abi Saffrey, CIEP blog coordinator.

The views expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of the CIEP.

The strange (and slightly tipsy) history of ‘training’

Susie Dent's Wonderful Words

The word ‘train’ has led a complicated life, one that has taken in tractors, cloaks, grapevines and royal processions. It all began, like so much else in English, with the Romans, whose Latin trahere meant to ‘pull’ or ‘draw’. The past participle of the same verb was tractus, which hides behind both the ‘pulling’ vehicles that are tractors and the tracts of land they cover, as well as contracts (which draw together arrangements), and extracts (in which something is ‘drawn out’). In sartorial matters, that same, highly versatile Latin word also gave us ‘train’: the trailing part of a skirt, gown or cloak that was dragged across the ground as the wearer moved. From this sense of something being pulled along came the idea of a series or procession of things – a royal retinue perhaps, or a locomotive and the cars coupled to it, or even a figurative train of thought.

It takes some leap of the imagination to go from this sense of ‘dragging’ to the modern training we experience today (even if, on occasions, time can seem to slow down a little). There is a link, however – in the 14th century, to ‘train’ a vine was to draw it out and manipulate it into a desired form – we talk of ‘training’ our roses to this day. This idea of ‘shaping’ something eventually gave rise to our modern business use of training, which aims to mould our minds and equip us for a particular task.

Good training, of course, may require a mentor – a word we inherited from the ancient Greeks, for whom Mentor was an adviser to the young Telemachus in Homer’s epic Odyssey. An effective mentor will always monitor progress, but monitoring wasn’t always so benevolent – it comes from the Latin monere, to ‘warn’, and its siblings include ‘admonish’ and ‘monster’.

All of which might lead you to seek cover in a ‘symposium’, a formal discussion or conference. Or at least, to seek out its earliest incarnation, for in ancient Greece symposia were convivial discussions held after a banquet, and involved copious amounts of wine. Which explains why the word ‘symposium’ is from the Greek sumposion, ‘drinking party’. Now, if we’re looking for ideas, that kind of training might be an even bigger pull.

Susie Dent, honorary vice-president of the Society for Editors and ProofreadersWonderful Words is a regular feature by Susie Dent, honorary vice-president of the SfEP. Susie is a writer and broadcaster on language. She is perhaps best known as the resident word expert on C4’s Countdown.

The internet and the democratisation of English – Part 3: Go home, spelling reform, you’re not needed here.

Sue Littleford has written a series of four blog posts exploring how the internet has contributed to the democratisation of the English language. Here is part three:

World Dictionary In part one, I wrote about mob rule in English, and how the internet has delivered the largest mob ever. In part two, I talked about coping with changing norms of language. One of those changing norms is surely spelling.

David Crystal OBE, in his lecture to the 2013 conference, spoke of how he has tracked the dropping of the h from rhubarb over the last few years by simply googling the word from time to time. Who needs the h, anyway? Rubarb sounds just the same without it. Why not agree it’s time it went and update the dictionaries? Wouldn’t that be nice and neat and logical?

Ah, yes, spelling reform. I’m agin it. In detail-less brevity, English spelling shows its breeding. It doesn’t reflect how some words sound now. It doesn’t reflect, necessarily, etymology. Some of our words were taken out to a dark alley and given a wedgie by language bullies who were afraid that good old English was simply not good enough (wedging the b into debt, the p into receipt, the s into island), some of them tripped over their own feet and had a nasty accident (smooshing an h into ghost, for example) and some words were mugged for political purposes (Nathaniel Webster springs to mind). It’s all a dreadful mess, spelling isn’t logical, it’s hard to learn and Someone Ought to Sort It Out. Well, again, no. There’s no Someone to do it. There are millions of someones. (See what I did there? We’re back at the internet.)

I suspect that, quite possibly in my lifetime, there will be natural and inevitable spelling reform based on the weight of opinion on what works best for one speaker of English to communicate with another, regardless of their backgrounds. Globalism demands it. Changing spelling wholesale is contrary to the way language actually works. And if you don’t believe that, count up how many Esperanto speakers you know, or writers of Shavian. Language grows – or, rather, is grown by its users – to meet demand. What starts as wordplay, or slang, or code becomes widespread; those words that are found useful become embedded, at least for a while. Those words that aren’t are dropped. Words come into fashion, go out again, maybe they come back, maybe they don’t. It is usefulness that drives these effects.

Spelling reform will happen, as it has happened constantly since we started spelling, but not as a programme imposed from above, by some ineffable body outside language telling us how things are going to be from now on. Yes, we must be taught how to use our language with facility, we need to learn the norms for spelling, punctuation and grammar that apply to our time; we need to learn about register, about appropriateness, so that the English we use in our school essays and job applications will be different from the English used informally. This isn’t new. What is new is the ease with which so many people of so many points of view can debate, declare, deride uses to such a huge audience. Some memes go viral, others don’t. Some memes have longevity, some burn out quickly after only sporadic interest. Just as general suffrage gives votes to people you don’t agree with, and to people you suspect shouldn’t be trusted with something as important as choosing the government of the country, the internet allows people less educated than me and people more educated than me, on a spectrum that runs from crackpot through people who think just like me and onto a whole other kind of crackpot to use English and to publish constantly.

Consider, though, the impact of spelling reform if it happens any other way. There have been so many schemes, mostly criticising the fact that words don’t look how they sound. So – you’re going to devise a spelling scheme and have it adopted. Upon whose accent do you base spelling? Received Pronunciation? Brum? Scouse? Welsh? Highland Scots? Belfast? Estuary? Then it already doesn’t look like it sounds to anyone with a different accent, or who speaks a dialect. What do you do about homophones? Homonyms? Will you sort out the mess of contronyms, too? But let’s gloss over that and speed on.

A new English spelling system is introduced. Time passes. Not much time – ten or twenty years is more than enough. The literature of the last four hundred years or so is now unreadable to the younger generations who only know the New English. A common enough problem now – Shakespeare is troublesome for many, Chaucer for most. Given the exponential growth of publishing since their day, though, it’s a vastly bigger problem. But it’s not the biggest problem. That is that our young people are cut off from the English of the rest of the globe. A few basic words will survive the revamp, of course: bat, dog, bawl, idiot.

So do we cut off our kids from our culture? Or do we transcribe and republish everything? Or just bits of it? (Which bits? Is the rest of our literature, our history, kept for the comparative handful who learn the Oldies English as a separate, elite, subject?) And what about the internet? The mass of material so huge it’s impossible to imagine?

The difficulty with spelling evolution now, of course, is dictionaries. We used to spell how we spoke, so we all spelled differently. Then came the printed word, which brought about a bit more standardisation, then the spellers, then the dictionaries. How can spelling move away from the monolith of the dictionary? Well, it can and it does and the dictionaries play catch-up. I sometimes amuse myself by checking a spelling on Googlefight before going to the dictionary. The people are speaking, and they’re not all speaking dictionary.

Sue Littleford

Sue Littleford was a career civil servant before being forcibly outsourced. That was such fun she changed tack altogether and has now been a freelance copy-editor for seven years, working mostly on postgraduate textbooks plus the occasional horseracing thriller. She is on Facebook and Twitter.

Proofread by Patric Toms.

The views expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of the CIEP.

The internet and the democratisation of English. Part 2: Tear up the rule book?

Sue Littleford has written a series of four blog posts exploring how the internet has contributed to the democratisation of the English language. Here is part two:

Tear up the rule bookIn part one, I talked about the changes I envisage the internet bringing to the range of Englishes currently spoken around the world. I was brought up with the mantra ‘Might Isn’t Right’. But as the internet leads to the blurring of the boundaries between all the world’s Englishes, might is most definitely right.

While we undergo this particular phase of language development, though, it will become harder and harder to teach ‘proper’ English; it will become harder and harder to justify changes when editing and proofreading, too. We are already careering towards a more global English, when the habits of one variety will bleed into the others. We are in the privileged position of watching it happen as no other generation has been able to do before. Its speed is breathtaking. Sometimes our stomachs flip. Sometimes it hurts our eyes. Sometimes you just want a few solid rules to cling onto, as they gave their shape to the English we knew growing up.

Evolution of the language didn’t stop when I was at school. It’s not stopped yet. It won’t ever. For now, it’s speeding up, fuelled by people communicating with each other in numbers never seen before, and displayed for all to see on the platform of the internet.

I remember an English lesson when I was aged ten or so, in which the wonderful Mr Harwood told us that the plural of hoof is hooves or hoofs, and that the plural of roof is roofs or rooves; that neither was wrong but that hooves and roofs were more commonly used. Well, that’s settled down in the last half-century. I don’t think I’ve ever seen rooves since. But I’ve also not yet come across anyone else who was taught that there are varieties of ‘correct’ and that weight of numbers matters in language (might actually becomes right in the end).

We’ve all seen evolution in action – consider E-mail to e-mail to email; on line to on-line to online. The new edition of the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary brought out in 2007 took out 16,000 hyphens. Evolution is accompanied by mass extinction events, after all.

Even experienced editors, who know all this stuff, sometimes betray themselves with a ‘Well, I was taught….’ or a ‘Which is correct…?’ Language is moving too fast, now. It’s always been a numbers game. ‘Aks’ for ask is around a thousand years old in Britain. So is singular ‘they’, plural ‘none’ and a host of other usages the reactionaries lambast as Wrong. Thousand-year-old mistakes perpetuated by the hoi polloi, or thousand-year-old valid alternatives? Who decides?

What’s hard to accept, perhaps particularly for those who really paid attention at school (but who weren’t lucky enough to have Mr Harwood) and have stuck to what they were taught ever since, despite the evidence all around them, is that there is no outside authority dictating these ‘rules’ or arbitrating disputes about them. There is just opinion: informed, uninformed and not yet formed. And there is time. And there are users of English. There is not necessarily consensus. Mash those up together, then you’ll find the prescriptivists are fighting a losing battle.

So – what’s to be done? We editors and proofreaders need to know our stuff, and to be able to defend our edits. How can we do this against a background where language is turning to quicksand? Two words: style guide.

The style guide will, I think, become the touchstone. It will be the standard for that publisher, that government, that company as now, but I can see that copy-editors will need to be far more proactive in producing style guides for clients. I suspect that more and more organisations will be publishing theirs, as The Economist, the Guardian, the BBC and the UK government have done. We will need to be aware of what free-standing style guides are available and talk to clients about choosing the one that best fits them, with or without a degree of personalisation.

The rule book isn’t dead – it never really lived. But style guides? They’ll go on forever.

Sue LittlefordSue Littleford was a career civil servant before being forcibly outsourced. That was such fun she changed tack altogether and has now been a freelance copy-editor for seven years, working mostly on postgraduate textbooks plus the occasional horseracing thriller. She is on Facebook and Twitter.

Proofread by Sandra Rawlin.

The views expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of the CIEP.