Wednesday, April 15, 2015

The Question of "Error"

We've been talking all term about language variation and change and how both are natural to any living language. We've also talked about how systematic variation between nonstandard and standard dialects of English can often get labeled as "error" in the nonstandard dialect, as can incoming/new forms in a language change.

Steven Pinker, in the discussion of a construction like "give Al Gore and I a chance," asserts: "When enough careful writers and speakers fail to do something that a pencil-and-paper analysis of syntax says they should, it may mean that it's the pencil-and-paper analysis that is wrong, not the speakers and writers" (99). But the discussion is in a chapter focused on "grammatical errors," and he goes on to say, "But for now, let's assume that the paper-and-pencil analysis is correct" (99).

Many if not all of us have spent years in educational systems that have relied on a discourse of error when it comes to writing, if not also speech. So let me raise the question: Is there such a thing as a "grammatical error"? Are there other things speakers/writers do with the language that could be categorized as "error"? Let's focus on English, both spoken and written.

I look forward to hearing/reading your thoughts.

8 comments:

  1. One thing to consider when thinking about grammatical error is in what way a perceived error is a wandering from the original rule. As Pinker reminds us, “much of our conversational wisdom consist of friend-of-a-friend legends and factoids that are too good to be true” (302). In this way of looking at it, the people supporting the original rule are the ones making the error (may vs. shall usage, etc.).
    For me, if there’s a place for error it’s in inconsistency and perhaps in writing for a publication that has strict house rules. For example, if you are working for The New Yorker than it would be reasonable for your editor to say you made an error in not using the Oxford Comma, even though this is a stylistic choice they have made for you. According to a review in this week’s New York Times Book Review of Mary Norris’s new book Confessions of a Comma Queen, hyphenating deluxe (de-luxe) was the rule there until 2003. If you worked there in 2002, it would be an error to write deluxe. And than it would be an error to write it de-luxe in 2004. And at no time would either of those styles be an error in an email to a friend.
    In regards to error and consistency, I’d like to consider punctuation at the end of a sentence that ends with quotations. Pinker makes a good argument that it makes more logical sense to keep this punctuation outside of the quotation marks (298-299). So, I’d argue it wouldn’t be an error for an American writer to do so. However, if they were to do so in one place and not another in the same essay, this would lead most readers to wonder whether they knew what they were doing. I’d argue then it was an error.
    A situation based approach to grammar is in line with a point of Pinker’s that I really like about the value of style. He argues that style allows a writer to “enhance the spread of ideas, to exemplify attention to detail, and to add to the beauty of the world” (304).

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    1. I also think that distinguishing spoken language from written (and probably even edited written from informal written) seems useful for this kind of discussion. And like Elizabeth, I find I'm trying to figure out whether to use the word "error" to refer to instances where a writer doesn't follow rules of house style or other rules of formal written style.

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  2. I can think of two sections in Pinker’s last chapter that seem important when thinking about error; I might talk about three though.

    The first is his (maybe too easy) reference to George W. Bush as an example of the “something that is objectively true about usage” (190). Noting famous and hilarious examples like the substitution of inebriation for exhilaration and the use of “Grecians” when naming the people of Greece, Pinker tries to drive home the idea that, yes, we understand that the reactionaries still moaning about Webster’s Third are ridiculous and on the losing side of history, but some things are just incorrect.

    But he also adds Bush’s “Is our children learning?” to the list of these clearly-wrong moments. This is more complicated though, right? Besides the fact that this quotation is taken out of context – a fuller version is “Rarely is the question asked, are . . . is our children learning?” which seems a slightly more reasonable (or at least slightly less moronic) misstep – I’m not completely convinced that Bush was wrong in the same way that he was when accidentally using a word for “drunkenness” when he meant “excitement.” While many people certainly howled with laughter at yet another yokelism from this mindless Texan (who, in the meantime, still managed to push through many of his most precious policy agendas and remake the political and economic landscape globally), I doubt that there was anyone who said “Wait, I don’t understand what he just said.”

    So Pinker’s probably right. There are errors – misused words or things that obscure meaning in such a way that the usage can and should be considered “wrong.” But sometimes we toss a lot onto that pile that just shouldn’t be there.

    His section on dangling modifiers struck me in a similar way, although this time I think we’re on the same side. He consistently uses the word sometimes in this section, emphasizing that, since dangling modifiers’ “subjects are inherently ambiguous and sometimes a sentences will inadvertently attract a reader to the wrong choice,” this isn’t a function of a certain grammatical construction (210). It’s just unclear writing, which happens sometimes when there is a dangling modifier.

    It seems too easy just to say that it’s wrong when it’s unclear and it’s ok as long as it’s clear though. On one hand, this raises the question of who gets to determine clarity, but it also probably sets the stage for reactionary language police to proclaim (quite honestly, I’d bet) that they can’t make sense out of any sentence with a dangling modifier in it. There’s just too much ambiguity.

    Of course, there’re some ideologies rolled up in there. Because dangling modifiers are proscribed, they are always ostensibly unintelligible. So they become error because they are erroneous, in a slippery slope as wonderful as any. I mean, errors exist. Some even exist objectively, as Pinker suggests. But a lot of them are only errors if we believe there are a lot of them out there.

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    1. I agree that the section on dangling modifiers is interesting in terms of the stance Pinker is taking. I have tried to argue that this is a stylistic issue not a grammatical issue, and I think perhaps he is trying to make that point on p. 210 when he says that some dangling modifiers should be avoided but they are not grammatical errors. So it is not ideal stylistically, but it is not "wrong." Could we read the passage that way or am I imposing my own perspective onto his prose?

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  3. I think that this discussion of error is interesting from Pinker's perspective. He starts the chapter discussing the prescriptive/descriptive approach, but he doesn't seem to want to stake his claim fully in either. He does, however, often point out the place of authority from which he writes. Similarly, his discussions of error exist in the tensions between prescriptive and descriptive approaches to language. So while he is quick to point out that he is writing a very prescriptive book, he enjoys making fun of those "purists" (prescriptivists) who hold onto grammatical rules despite common usages that seem to suggest the "rules" may be changing. But still, he does caution against certain usages and makes distinctions of standard/nonstandard and formal/informal registers. Ultimately, I think that his approach is a bit problematic; he should take a firmer stance. (And again with the risk taking! How long is too long for a single chapter in a writing and style guide?)

    Now that I've said that, I think he does leave a lot of room for people to think about notions of "error." He seems to want to suggest (though doesn't quite get there) that "error" can always be questioned. Yet he works his way through all of the common "rules" of a style guide. Perhaps living in that tension can be a generative space, but it can surely leave people with error anxiety. I think that we need to move away from the error-ridden teaching of English because it stunts students' writing, but it's also important to be aware of the sorts of expectations that the larger world is going to have about the written language. If we are back to thinking about language via codes of power, then it is important to think about preferred usage. I might shy away from the word "error" myself, but it is important for students to know and understand the current cultures and ideologies that exist around "correct" writing.

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  4. My stance on the notion of error is going to be rather liberal and possibly rather broad. I could easily defend both sides of the idea of error and therefore have come to a loose justification. I think that error is indeed a subjective concept in which everyone has a different set of criteria for language and therefore what is and is not allowed to deviate from his or her said perception of language and its rules. I know we have talked about the purpose of language and how the idea of standardizing English was to ensure an understanding to the broadest of audiences. So, it is hard to say that an error is truly an error unless the communicated message is not being transmitted as intended to the receiver.

    The quote listed below from Pinker also made me reflect on language:

    “Still, writers do themselves a favor, and increase the amount of pleasure in the world, if they use a word in the senses that are accepted by literate readers. This raises the question of how a careful writer can distinguish a legitimate rule of usage from a grandmother’s tale” (Pinker, p.353)

    This made me think of a few ideas regarding language. The first idea revolves around when and how a rule becomes legitimate. When do we have too many rules? How many rules do we actually break unknowingly? Do the rules complicate understanding? Stifle creativity? Secondly, this quote reminded me of the hierarchy in writing and speaking. It is interesting that some of the best writers break the rules. How is it or rather why is it that these respected deities of writing can break these rules and still be regarded as the best?

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  5. Certainly it would feel liberating to write a full-throated post here about all the ways we might argue that there is no real thing as “error” in writing – that what gets classified as “error” most commonly is a variation from standard language conventions or a misspoken word or flubbed sentence. (And really -- doesn’t George W. Bush seem a bit too easy a target for Pinker? I appreciated Ryan’s work above to take a swing at that.)

    But as we have learned across the term, and as Pinker recounts in his discussion of the perceived divide between prescriptivists and descriptivists (as Elizabeth helpfully draws our attention to), powerful notions of right/wrong, correct/incorrect do exist as socially constructed notions of “error” – and they are notions that carry great weight and often devastatingly real consequences. To dismiss ideas about error in writing merely because it is a social construct would be akin to dismissing the lived realities of race in this country on the grounds that race, likewise, is socially constructed.

    Rather than challenge the notion of error per se, it seems perhaps more useful to think about how we choose to respond/react/consider ‘error’. Do we seek to correct the speaker or writer, or do we seek to understand them? In classrooms, do we offer students feedback on their ideas and rhetorical choices, or do we restrict writing instruction to rewards for writing that is neat and tidy and ‘correct’? Perhaps most importantly, when we do seek to offer students instructions in the conventions of Standard English, do we seek to contextualize and historicize how the ‘rules’ of Standard English were constructed and how students might choose to challenge or question or speak back to them? In so doing, the question of what/whether error is might be reframed a bit to consider what we do with it.

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  6. I found Pinker’s definition of conventions to be helpful in thinking about error. Pinker explains that “rules of usage are tacit conventions. A convention is an agreement among the members of a community to abide by a single way of doing things.” The acknowledgement that members of a community agree on conventions helped me to think about error in a more productive way than just breaking the rules. If conventions are agreed upon by members of a community than errors, or a break from convention, serve as a signal to community members that someone committing an error is not quite fully a member yet or that a member has maybe purposefully strayed from agreed upon conventions.

    Connecting error to conventions and to membership in communities also brings to mind Gail’s questions above, questions that I am also deeply concerned about. Questions like: What do we do with error? As Gail asks: "Do we seek to correct the speaker or writer, or do we seek to understand them?” I think these questions are helpful because I see the problem with strict rules about language and strong (probably unwarranted) reactions or moral judgments related to error in language as a problem in the way members of communities are policing each other, are correcting each other rather than seeking to understand one another. This is problematic for me. Not that speakers or writers of language have made errors, but that other members of the community have used moments of error as moments to judge one another. I think a broader understanding of language use as an attempt at community membership might help people to be less reactionary against moments of error.

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