The State of Prose

Good English prose continues to be written by people in all walks of life, for all purposes. Even so, only an incurable optimist will say that all is well with the English language. Within the lifetime of the author of these sentences, and of most of his readers, two changes have happened that have lowered the general standard of English prose:

• • Being able to write well is more and more becoming a personal achievement. Schools no longer require students to go through the exercises that helped past generations learn how to write clearly and simply: diagramming sentences, memorizing poetry, copying passages of distinguished prose into notebooks, and so on. Exercises such as these are not creative, say the educational experts — forgetting that such exercises teach students fundamental skills that they will need when they begin to do creative work. Somehow, a few people are finding their way to the discipline that they need to bring order out of the chaos of their thoughts. These are the people who are going to end up writing well however little guidance or encouragement they receive. What we are losing are the reasonably good writers who would never have learned to write well on their own.
  • Not being able to write well is no longer a cause for shame, most people feel. In fact, being inarticulate may be to one’s advantage in some areas of life, such as politics; politicians who speak too well are thought to lack the common touch. And in fact, prose whose clarity expresses the logic of an argument places a burden on the reader that bad prose does not; the muddiness of bad prose hides the logic of arguments, thereby relieving the reader and listener of the need to think anything through. In bad prose, the arguments, such as they are, are made through vague, suggestive, manipulative language that is meant to make certain impressions on passive minds, not to awaken anyone’s critical faculties.

For example, it is hard to imagine a public figure of a generation or two ago replying to a journalist’s question in as slipshod a manner as Secretary of the Interior Doug Burgum did, when asked whether the names of private donors to Donald  Trump’s celebration of our nation’s 250th anniversary would be made public.  Burgum said,

“It’s not about the transparency of the donors, This is about Americans celebrating the 250th anniversary.”

This means, I would guess: “The purpose of the celebration is to mark the 250th anniversary of our nation’s independence; its purpose is not to afford donors an opportunity to make their generosity known to the public.”  Or something like that. But to get at a meaning like the one that I suggest, it is necessary to read Burgum’s reply as sloppily as he spoke it.   That is, it is necessary to accept the lack of a reference for the pronouns “It’s” and “This”.  And it is necessary to understand that the phrase “transparency of donors” means the visibility of donors, and not their almost invisibility, like that of substances such as air, water, and glass.  And it is necessary to understand that “about” means “purpose.”

Secretary Burgum no doubt made his meaning clear to most people who read the interview.  Still, if we tolerate such sloppiness in others, and expect nothing better of ourselves, we are accepting a lowering of standards in language that will be of great use to people who want to avoid having to make their meaning clear.  Our aim in speaking and writing should be to express ourselves so clearly that what we are talking about will be immediately evident to others — if, indeed, we ourselves know what we are talking about.