Category Archives: Fowler

This is Fowler of A Dictionary of Modern English Usage

Craft and Craftiness

Craft is what in Greek is τέχνη: skill. One can refer to technical skill, for emphasis, or to allude to the Greek word; however, perhaps there is no skill that is not technical, and nothing technical that is not related to a skill. In that case, “technical” is just an adjective form of “skill,” and the phrase “technical skill” is a kind of polyptoton. (See footnote 1.)

In the translation by David Grene of the Philoctetes of Sophocles, “craft” is used in the pejorative sense of craftiness. The Greek is δόλος, not τέχνη; however, the latter too can have the same pejorative sense.

Books referred to here: (1) Sophocles II; (2) Sophoclis Fabulae; (3) Sophocles’ Dramas; (4) Goethe’s Faust; (5) A Dictionary of Modern English Usage, second edition; (6) Modern English Usage. In each row of three, the first book is paperback; the second, hardback with jacket; the third, hardback without jacket, but tilted so the spine can be read

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Gödel, Grammar, and Mathematics

Preface

This attempt at exposition of Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorem was inspired or provoked by somebody else’s attempt at the same thing, in a blog post that a friend directed me to. I wanted in response to set the theorem in the context of mathematics rather than computer science.

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NL XXXVIII: Civilization and Wealth

Index to this series

To be richer than another person is to have economic power over that person (38. 61). The rich can force the poor to sell their labor for a lower price (38. 64) than if the poor were free (38. 65) of the emotional strain of poverty (38. 66).

Rembrandt, Esau Selling His Birthright, c. 1640–1, British Museum

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Writing Rules

Executive summary (added July 16, 2018): I have had enough of misrepresentation by experts of what other experts have to say about grammar.


An ongoing concern of this blog is the subject taught in school called grammar. See for example

  • the previous post, “Writing and Inversion,” about how a supposed rule against the passive voice might be better understood as a rule to avoid certain inversions of order (namely those inversions that add words and torpor);
  • the post before that, “A New Kind of Science,” presenting a theory that grammar is properly neither prescriptive nor descriptive, but “criteriological,” because it examines the criteria that we apply to our own speaking and writing;
  • an early expression (from six years ago) of some of those ideas: “Strunk and White.”

Grammar causes anxiety. Every aspect of school would seem to cause anxiety in somebody. Decades after they have left school, how many persons have nightmares of missing an examination? Quite a few, it would seem; see the evidence appended to this post. My mother and her brother were such persons, as I learned when growing up. I seem not to be such a person, though I once dreamt of missing a plane.

How much support of current US President Donald Trump is due to memories of belittlement by teachers at school? Similar questions may be raised about

  • UK government minister Michael Gove’s saying, “people in this country have had enough of experts …”;
  • the rise in Turkey of Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, who has perceived a special threat from the Peace Academics.

On that last matter, see my blog essay of March, 2016, “Academic Freedom.”

In the blog generally, I may criticize some of my fellow academics; but I criticize them for their own criticism of fellow academics and thinkers. Thus in the article “Strunk and White” listed above, I say Geoffrey Pullum was stupid to decry, in 2009, the “50 Years of Stupid Grammar Advice” offered by Strunk and White’s Elements of Style.

Still I have respected Pullum’s recommendation of Style: Toward Clarity and Grace, by Joseph M. Williams. I bought Williams’s book, and in this post I focus on some of his advice.

I thought Williams’s book might be more “democratic” than Strunk and White’s, in the sense of being aimed at a broader audience. That broader audience might include students whose parents didn’t go to college or grow up speaking English.

Now I have doubts that Williams has such an audience in mind. In his final chapter, called “Usage,” Williams writes (on page 176) of

Three Kinds of Rules

1. Some rules characterize the basic structure of English … No native speaker of English has to think about these rules at all.

2. Some rules distinguish standard from nonstandard speech … The only writers and speakers who worry about these rules are those upwardly mobile types who are striving to join the educated class of writers and speakers …

3. Finally, some grammarians try to impose on those who already write educated standard English particular items of usage that they think those educated writers should observe – don’t split infinitives; use that, not which for restrictive clauses …

This may not be much evidence to go on; but judging from the style of #1, I’m not sure Williams has considered the possibility of having readers who are not native speakers of English. In #2, by referring pejoratively to “those upwardly mobile types,” Williams seems to think they are not readers either.

Appearances are corroborated on the next page, after Williams describes again his three kinds of rules:

1. Some rules account for the fundamental structure of English …

2. Some rules distinguish the dialects of the educated and the uneducated …

3. And some rules belong to that category of rules observed by some well-educated people, and ignored by others equally well-educated …

Ordinarily, the first set of rules concerns us not at all. And if you are interested in this book, you probably aren’t much concerned with the second set either. It is the third set of rules that concern – sometimes obsess – already competent but not entirely secure writers. They are the rules of usage out of which the Pop Grammarians have created their cottage industry.

In faithfully transcribing Williams’s words about rules of usage, I have noticed that they violate a certain rule: “Enclose parenthetic expressions between commas.” Indeed, in the first block quotation above, giving the first list of “Three Kinds of Rules,” look again at the last clause (itself a rule):

use that, not which for restrictive clauses.

Here the phrase “not which” is parenthetic, but is not printed that way. Since a comma precedes it, a comma ought also to follow it, at least if one agrees with the rule that I stated, “Enclose parenthetic expressions between commas.”

That rule happens to be Rule 3 of Strunk’s original eight “Elementary Rules of Usage.” It is still Rule 3 in the version of The Elements of Style edited by E. B. White, although some of the other rules have been changed.

I find the same rule also as part of Rule 12d in the Harbrace College Handbook (8th edition, 1977), used in the ninth-grade English class at my private, college-preparatory school for boys in Washington. According to the Handbook:

Commas set off nonrestrictive clauses and phrases and other parenthetical and miscellaneous elements, such as transitional expressions, items in dates, words used in direct address, and so on. Restrictive clauses and phrases are not set off by commas.

Surely I was taught this rule in earlier years too. The rule seems unobjectionable and even natural to me now, and I do not recall any difficulty with it.

Yellow cover of Harbrace College Handbook 8

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Writing, Typography, and Nature

Note added February 10, 2019: I return to this rambling essay, two years later in the Math Village. The main points are as follows.

  • Writing is of value, even if you never again read what you write.
  • There is also value to reading again, as in the present case.
  • A referee rejected a submitted article of mine in the history of mathematics because its order did not make sense – to that referee, though a fellow mathematician thought well of the article. A revision was eventually published as “On Commensurability and Symmetry.”
  • In the preface to The Elements of Typographical Style, Robert Bringhurst wonders how he can write a rulebook when we are all free to be different. He thus sets up an antithesis, such as I would investigate later in “Antitheses.”
  • From being simply a means of copying, typography has become a means of expression.
  • Yet typography should not draw attention to itself, just as, according to Fowler in A Dictionary of Modern English Usage, pronunciation (notably of foreign words) should not.
  • Through my own experience of typography with LaTeX [and HTML, as in this blog], I have developed some opinions differing from some others’.
  • Bringhurst samples Thoreau,
    • whose ridicule of letters sent by post applies today to electronic media, and
    • who rightly bemoans how enjoying the woods is thought idle; cutting them down, productive.
  • In Gödel, Escher, Bach, Douglas Hofstadter wonders how a message can be recognized by any intelligence. Bringhurst restricts the question to concern intelligences on this earth.
  • In my youth, Hofstadter introduced me to Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, (edited by Reps and Senzaki), whose influence on me I consider.
  • The Zen story about whether “this very mind is Buddha” suggests a further development of Collingwood’s “logic of question and answer.”
  • Through looking at another translation, I consider how Reps and Senzaki turned Chinese into English.
  • Rereading this blog led me back to Hofstadter.

Here are some meditations on some books read during a stay in the Nesin Mathematics Village, January, 2017. I originally posted this article from the Village; now, back in Istanbul, a few days into February, recovering from the flu that I started coming down with in the Village, I am correcting some errors and trying to clarify some obscurities.

From below, a wooded hill, with buildings near the crest
Nesin Mathematics Village from the east
Wednesday, January 18, 2017

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NL V: “The Ambiguity of Feeling”

Index to this series

Feeling differs from thought. Thought is founded in feeling; thought is erected on feeling; thought needs feeling. Thought needs feelings that are strong enough to support it. But thought itself is not strong (or weak); it has (or can have) other properties, like precision and definiteness. Thought can be remembered and shared in a way that feeling cannot.

The New Leviathan is a work of thought. One might say that a work of thought cannot properly explain feeling. Collingwood himself says this, more or less, in Chapter V, even in its very title: “The Ambiguity of Feeling.” Continue reading