Adjectival Pile-Ups, Cliches, and Other Ills in NPR Reports

Radio -- and that includes NPR -- should be colloquial. Perhaps not all the time, but that means listeners should hear American English as it is spoken by reasonably well-educated people, whether they are guests or reporters or hosts of programs. Ideally, radio should be an intelligent conversation that you, the listeners, are part of. (I know I've ended that sentence with a preposition, but bear with me....)

Spoken vs. Written American English

Spoken English differs from written English in some obvious ways. Properly written English tends to be well crafted and readable and tends to be somewhat formal. Spoken English (on NPR) can be informal and may include speech patterns that differ from those of the listeners. It nevertheless, should be understandable.

The problem for some listeners is that sometimes, it isn't.

I have been receiving e-mails from listeners who insist that certain unpalatable locutions are becoming frequent on NPR. They ask: Is anyone inside listening?

'There's Five....' There are?

Reaching for the antacid as he reaches for the radio dial, listener Gary Gabriel pleads:

Please become a beacon for good grammar. Instead of "there's five," say "there're five." The word "got" has a place, but a limited place. Not "he's got," but "he has." I like NPR so much, but, instead, I tune into WCVL (Cleveland) because they don't hurt my ears, and they set an example for speaking correctly.

Only Fractionally Accurate?

Listener Robert Sullivan thinks that more drastic measures are now required:

This morning I cringed once again as I listened to NPR's report on the election in Iraq. Your reporter stated that "only a fraction" of the Sunni population voted. That is a totally meaningless statement. 1/100 is a fraction -- but so is 99/100, or, for that matter, 101/100. "Only a fraction" does not imply "relatively few," as most reporters seem to think. Please beat them about the head and shoulders.

'Dense Billowing Clouds of Acrid Smoke Filled the Air...'

Another listener, Mike Sims, is appalled at the less-than-original word choices of some reporters:

I listen to NPR for its originality and freshness of thought, but cringe when I hear clichés such as "a perfect storm" (used recently to describe the tragic train crash in [California]), and " [failure to] connect the dots" (when a person or organization fails to recognize the obvious -- this phrase used ad nauseam since Sept. 11). Why not just say what you want, clearly and directly? To use this tired language not only cheapens our language, it obfuscates and trivializes the tragic events from which these phrases originate.

Writing for the Ear

Jonathan Kern is NPR's executive producer of training. It's his job to make sure that all NPR journalists -- reporters, editors and producers -- use English that is completely comprehensible to the listeners. He has begun to compile a style manual. It includes a list of frequent gaffes and gobbledygook resorted to by journalists, who are often under deadline pressures.

Kern points out that there is a gap between the English grammar we were taught and the English we speak in public. He says, that's not always a bad thing:

The challenge for broadcast journalists is to write and speak in a way that sounds intelligent, but not pedantic. We may understand the distinction between "who" and "whom," but decide to say "who" anyway because it just seems more natural -- even if it does make our fifth-grade teacher turn in her grave. At another time, we may opt to use the "right" (i.e., historical) word or phrase, even if an alternate is becoming more common. In both cases, the goal is to write and speak in a manner that does not detract from the content of the report by drawing the attention, or wrath, or scorn, of the keen-eared… NPR listener.

Memo To Kern: 'Avoid Clichés Like the Plague!'

Kern is, in my opinion, insufficiently harsh on clichés when he writes:

Clichés. We know what's wrong with them, but unfortunately they serve us when we're under pressure. Some broadcast writing (business news, for example) can consist of nothing but clichés: "The Bulls were stampeding on Wall Street today. Blue chip stock prices skyrocketed..." Reporters often use military metaphors to heighten a sense of tension: "Democrats and Republicans are battling over welfare reform." There are frequently more colorful and precise ways to express the same thoughts.

But I like what Kern says about the dynamic nature of English and how keeping that nature in mind is essential in radio:

"Proper" English is a moving target.

The meaning or pronunciation of a word may change over time. Phrases that one generation considers improper or ungrammatical may come to be accepted by the next. Even English grammar evolves, although more slowly than pronunciation or usage. While these changes are underway, what sounds right to one person may sound wrong to another...

This linguistic evolution is hardly a new phenomenon. In 1709, Alexander Pope lamented the speed at which the English language was changing:

Our sons their fathers' failing language see,

And such as Chaucer is shall Dryden be.

So if you're one of those people who complain that "folks these days just don't seem to know grammar," or that they're applying new and "incorrect" meanings to words, it may be that English is really different today than it was when you were younger. However, it may also be that the "rules" you were taught never described English accurately. For example, people have "split" infinitives for at least 700 years; it's never been wrong to say "to fully understand." That's just how English works, regardless of what you learned in school.

'Hopefully, He's Right…'

Jonathan Kern is right, but that doesn't stop him and many others at NPR from arguing with passion about the direction that our language is taking us.

I asked Kern if he agreed with those listeners who think that NPR journalists are speaking too casually... with listeners who say they hear too many grammatical errors on NPR.

What does he tell the journalists at NPR about how to write and speak American English?

The goal is to write as you would talk on your best day -- when you've had just the right amount of caffeine and sleep. That means that you avoid saying words on the air you never utter in your life off the air -- whether it's jargon, news-speak, or hyphenated adjectives. (I never talk about being employed by the "Washington-based, member station-supported, public broadcasting network," but phrases like that get into our scripts all the time.)

As a former linguistics student, I'd hasten to point out that many things listeners object to are historical and perfectly acceptable, in speech as well as writing. I'm not sure what "speaking too casually" means, but if people are concerned about, say, split infinitives, or words whose meaning has shifted over time ("decimate" doesn't always mean to destroy by a tenth!"), or sentences that start with "Hopefully," I'm on the reporters' side.

I'm glad that NPR knows that Jonathan Kern's role is necessary.

But the unresolved question is this: Is it NPR's responsibility to maintain the standards or to reflect the changes in American English in a radio medium?