A review by thenovelbook
Because Internet: Understanding the New Rules of Language, by Gretchen McCulloch
4.0
I found this book interesting, not so much for its specific explanations, but for the way it made me think about my own attitude to the "rules" of language.
You see, I have always been a stickler for correctness in the written word. And, in formal contexts (like, maybe, this book review!), I still am. But a few years ago, I unconsciously started to embrace the idea of having a different standard for informal writing. I just didn't know that's what I was doing until I read this book.
The author makes a fantastic point at the outset. We don't have any problem with informal speech, right? We know that in a typical chat between friends, there's going to be plenty of "umm," "ahh," maybe some exaggerated pronunciations and a whole range of tones and facial expressions. It's wildly different than someone giving a prepared, measured speech. And it's not a problem to have two different sets of expectations for those things.
So why do we not accept that there are also formal and informal forms of writing? Why do people get so sniffy about the way a text message looks?
One reason is that, until recently, we weren't exposed to too much informal writing. Other than a postcard from a friend, there wasn't much of a theatre for us to observe how people write when they're not put on the spot to produce something perfect.
But now there is. It's called the Internet!
Another reason why many of us have been such sticklers for perfect written English is that we've absorbed attitudes a couple of centuries old. In the 18th century, attempts to standardize English went hand in hand with a worshipful love of Latin. As the author says, "they were comparing a living language with a fossil." That's why rules like "Never end a sentence with a preposition" are poorly conceived... that's a rule for Latin. It becomes unnatural when applied to English, and that's why even academics mostly ignore it.
And yet generations of us have gotten this idea that there's one correct way to write our language, and that it never changes.
It's exhilarating to realize that that's not quite the case. Yes, standardization helps with clarity, especially in a formal context where it's taken for granted that you've had time to polish every line.
But here's what's different about informal writing on the Internet: Communication happens at a speed that almost mimics face-to-face conversation, which means that our brain is also expecting cues about tone and voice and feeling.
If there are no cues, the brain works with what's there. (That's why, whenever I see a period at the end of a short text message--which denotes a falling tone of voice--I instinctively read the message as if the person is tired/depressed/irritated/ready to end it all. Sometimes a falling tone is wanted, but other times it leads to that slight social disconnect.)
A glorious amount of subtlety is now possible when we look at our keyboards as tools to convey, not just words, but tones of voice.
So, there are two attitudes that will determine how we communicate online.
One is, "I have this message that I will now send using the Internet," and the other is, "I want to convey as much of my real meaning-- and myself-- as I can in this conversation." It's fun to think about which one you are.
For instance, suppose someone texts me a photo of something they made and I reply,
"That's beautiful."
There's a very real chance that might be read as sarcasm or at least apathy. What if, instead, I reply something like,
"Oooh, be-yew-tiful [Heart-eyes-emoji]"
One of those messages is "correct." But one of them lets you "hear" how I would say it and almost visualize the way I would look. (Yes, I know you could just use an exclamation point instead of a period, but that still only provides a limited amount of tone.) Things like creative re-spellings and typed vocalizations bring a host of nuance to what is otherwise just pixels on a screen.
Or, what if someone sends me a photo of an insane amount of chocolate they're buying, and I reply,
"What are you doing?"
The question mark means you "hear" that sentence with a raised tone at the end. Like, it's an honest question and I have no idea what you are doing. But what if I reply,
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING [crying-laughing emoji]"
The all caps letters and no punctuation in this case create a rhetorical reaction. They imply that as a (pseudo)authority figure in your life, I'm alarmed about what you're contemplating, but the emoji means that ultimately I'm not actually judging you for it and I really think it's kind of funny.
See? Same words, different tone, fascinating! The author includes a great example of a message she once sent that was capitalized in a quirky way. It came across as approachable and self-aware. With traditional punctuation and capitalization, it would have sounded arrogant. There's so much room for tone now!
I love the author's quote, "Even if this increased attention to typographical tone of voice did mean the decline of standard punctuation, I'd gladly accept the decline of standards that were arbitrary and elitist in the first place in favor of being able to better connect with my fellow humans. After all, a red pen will never love me back."
And
"When we learn to write in ways that communicate our tone of voice, not just our mastery of rules, we learn to see writing not as a way of asserting our intellectual superiority, but as a way of listening to each other better."
Great stuff.
Now, this is not an argument for total anarchy in language. After all, the book itself is written with faultless punctuation and grammar. But it's also... not a casual chat. It's a book. There's a difference, just as there's a difference between talking to an acquaintance and giving a prepared speech. Also, the changing usages of language on the Internet are based on patterns, not laziness. So even what looks a little anarchic-- usually isn't.
These explanations will become intuitive for everybody at some point in the future, but for now, for those of us who think of our third-grade Language Arts class with some degree of reverence, it's worth talking about. It's worth saying, "Yes, those rules work! But there are new rules that also work, because we have a new stage to play on. Isn't language neat!"
You see, I have always been a stickler for correctness in the written word. And, in formal contexts (like, maybe, this book review!), I still am. But a few years ago, I unconsciously started to embrace the idea of having a different standard for informal writing. I just didn't know that's what I was doing until I read this book.
The author makes a fantastic point at the outset. We don't have any problem with informal speech, right? We know that in a typical chat between friends, there's going to be plenty of "umm," "ahh," maybe some exaggerated pronunciations and a whole range of tones and facial expressions. It's wildly different than someone giving a prepared, measured speech. And it's not a problem to have two different sets of expectations for those things.
So why do we not accept that there are also formal and informal forms of writing? Why do people get so sniffy about the way a text message looks?
One reason is that, until recently, we weren't exposed to too much informal writing. Other than a postcard from a friend, there wasn't much of a theatre for us to observe how people write when they're not put on the spot to produce something perfect.
But now there is. It's called the Internet!
Another reason why many of us have been such sticklers for perfect written English is that we've absorbed attitudes a couple of centuries old. In the 18th century, attempts to standardize English went hand in hand with a worshipful love of Latin. As the author says, "they were comparing a living language with a fossil." That's why rules like "Never end a sentence with a preposition" are poorly conceived... that's a rule for Latin. It becomes unnatural when applied to English, and that's why even academics mostly ignore it.
And yet generations of us have gotten this idea that there's one correct way to write our language, and that it never changes.
It's exhilarating to realize that that's not quite the case. Yes, standardization helps with clarity, especially in a formal context where it's taken for granted that you've had time to polish every line.
But here's what's different about informal writing on the Internet: Communication happens at a speed that almost mimics face-to-face conversation, which means that our brain is also expecting cues about tone and voice and feeling.
If there are no cues, the brain works with what's there. (That's why, whenever I see a period at the end of a short text message--which denotes a falling tone of voice--I instinctively read the message as if the person is tired/depressed/irritated/ready to end it all. Sometimes a falling tone is wanted, but other times it leads to that slight social disconnect.)
A glorious amount of subtlety is now possible when we look at our keyboards as tools to convey, not just words, but tones of voice.
So, there are two attitudes that will determine how we communicate online.
One is, "I have this message that I will now send using the Internet," and the other is, "I want to convey as much of my real meaning-- and myself-- as I can in this conversation." It's fun to think about which one you are.
For instance, suppose someone texts me a photo of something they made and I reply,
"That's beautiful."
There's a very real chance that might be read as sarcasm or at least apathy. What if, instead, I reply something like,
"Oooh, be-yew-tiful [Heart-eyes-emoji]"
One of those messages is "correct." But one of them lets you "hear" how I would say it and almost visualize the way I would look. (Yes, I know you could just use an exclamation point instead of a period, but that still only provides a limited amount of tone.) Things like creative re-spellings and typed vocalizations bring a host of nuance to what is otherwise just pixels on a screen.
Or, what if someone sends me a photo of an insane amount of chocolate they're buying, and I reply,
"What are you doing?"
The question mark means you "hear" that sentence with a raised tone at the end. Like, it's an honest question and I have no idea what you are doing. But what if I reply,
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING [crying-laughing emoji]"
The all caps letters and no punctuation in this case create a rhetorical reaction. They imply that as a (pseudo)authority figure in your life, I'm alarmed about what you're contemplating, but the emoji means that ultimately I'm not actually judging you for it and I really think it's kind of funny.
See? Same words, different tone, fascinating! The author includes a great example of a message she once sent that was capitalized in a quirky way. It came across as approachable and self-aware. With traditional punctuation and capitalization, it would have sounded arrogant. There's so much room for tone now!
I love the author's quote, "Even if this increased attention to typographical tone of voice did mean the decline of standard punctuation, I'd gladly accept the decline of standards that were arbitrary and elitist in the first place in favor of being able to better connect with my fellow humans. After all, a red pen will never love me back."
And
"When we learn to write in ways that communicate our tone of voice, not just our mastery of rules, we learn to see writing not as a way of asserting our intellectual superiority, but as a way of listening to each other better."
Great stuff.
Now, this is not an argument for total anarchy in language. After all, the book itself is written with faultless punctuation and grammar. But it's also... not a casual chat. It's a book. There's a difference, just as there's a difference between talking to an acquaintance and giving a prepared speech. Also, the changing usages of language on the Internet are based on patterns, not laziness. So even what looks a little anarchic-- usually isn't.
These explanations will become intuitive for everybody at some point in the future, but for now, for those of us who think of our third-grade Language Arts class with some degree of reverence, it's worth talking about. It's worth saying, "Yes, those rules work! But there are new rules that also work, because we have a new stage to play on. Isn't language neat!"