Warning! Ambiguity Ahead!

I don't understand why reporters persist in using the word "some." As an adjective, it adds little. It actively muddies the waters of understanding.

Remember this equation:

Muddled Writing = Muddled Thinking.

"Some" illustrates this. No, no, don't bother digging up the exact figure. Please, don't even try to estimate a "many" or few." Just toss in a "some." That will do the trick!

Please.

Let's look at some examples.

"Wilkins, the banker, said he made some money in the stock market."

"Gov. Bloomberg closed the speech with some thoughts about the budget crisis."

Cut out the "some." That's right, throw it out. The word adds next to nothing in these situations. Try it. You'll like it.

Even when "some" appears needed, take a critical stance. Examine this sentence from the New York Times:

"That could undermine his leverage in Congress, where even some Republicans have expressed concern about major aspects of Mr. Bush's Social Security plans."

This reporter should be questioned about the meaning of "some." Have a couple of Republicans voiced their worries? Have dozens? Try to pin down what the word means.

Because, of course, once we know the quantity that "some" refers to, we don't have to use it.

Why the Caps?

OK, this one shouldn't take long. Don't run the following sentence:

Store General Manager Ellis McWhirter said rabid dogs had destroyed the pet food aisle.

Why not? "General Manager" is a descriptive title. It tells us McWhirter's role in running the supermarket. He was not elected to the post. He was not chosen by a government official for the job. He's general manager Ellis McWhirter.

I've worked for newspapers on both ends of the spectrum. At one end, a former employer required all titles be lowercase -- except for those of elected officials. At the other end, my current employer has a liberal policy, allowing for "Professor" and "Principal."

In any event, we don't bestow extra capital letters on supermarket management. Sorry.

The Code Returns

You've seen it before. Let's take a look again, at a further-revised version. "The Copy Editor's Code," as handed down by the deities on high to their most humble servant, C. McCuistion. Or something along those lines.

1.) I will be a reader.

It's the most important factor of all. The newspaper begins and ends with the people reading it. A copy editor stands in for the reader at a critical point in the process. We can change things if they don't make sense.

We do this job for those who pick up the paper in the morning (or log onto the Web site). We answer to them.

2.) I will strive for accuracy and clarity.

The two go together. They fight sometimes, but it makes their relationship stronger in the end. The newspaper must be as accurate as it can be. It must put that information across in clear prose.

3.) I will express my concerns.

Copy editors do their job toward the end of the production process. Their concerns, therefore, can be dismissed in the headlong rush to print. We have to be heard. Not all battles can be won, of course. Not all battles are worth fighting. But we have a job. We must do it.

Sometimes, this means asking stupid questions. Sometimes, this means seeming dull-witted. Sometimes this means acting like an asshole. We didn't go into this for the glamour. We went into this for the truth.

4.) I will respect those who entrust their work to me.

Reporters. Photographers. Designers. Graphics artists. Assigning editors. We handle their creations. We sometimes take that responsibility too lightly. We should consider the reporter's intent. We should consider the photographer's intent. We should look at the page layout and consider what the designer meant to do.

These folks all started the process. Now it's up to us to finish it with aplomb. They will be our readers as well.

5.) I will know and use my newspaper's style rules.

This precept occupies the lowest spot, I know. Perhaps we should think of the numbering system as separate from entries' importance.

Anyway. You should know the style before you use the style. Rules and guidelines are seldom absolute. They can be bent, broken or changed. But we should know when that happens and why. Style ensures consistency and readability. It differentiates a newspaper from a collection of stories thrown together. It is the voice of the paper.

Testy Copy Editors Thread of Note (But Aren't They All?)

This discussion raises some interesting points. Favorite bits:

The Wolcott Gibbs quote: "Try to preserve an author's style, if he is an author and has a style."

And: "A few writers have voices. Many of them merely have problems. The ones with voices often write well enough that you will never talk to them."

Newspapers should publish interesting, pithy writing, make no mistake. But self-indulgence wears everyone out.

Site Maintenance

My apologies for the spammed comments. They will be excised.

The blog as a whole will be tweaked in days to come. I plan to throw a few entries into the gap of the past few months — essays that I would have posted had I but the time and willpower. I'll mark them, don't worry. So watch for some election comments in November, for example.

I also plan to delete a few housekeeping posts, such as ... well ... this one. Now, let's get to the editing.

Uncharitable

My holiday wish this year is to not hear anyone's holiday wishes.

Newspapers play into charities' game these months toward the end of the year. Column inches are filled with heart-tugging stories and photos about poor little Billy who needs a train set and oh-so-sad Emma who wants a Barbie.

I understand this season sees more charitable donations than any others. I understand that many charities depend on it to make their budgets meet. But is it really the role of a newspaper to perpetuate this dysfunctional, cynical embarrassment?

Look, big cities (and the smaller ones, too) bulge with the needy. They stand on the street corners with shopping carts full of possessions. They wait in lines for soup. They ask pedestrians for change. And they do this 365 days a year.

I see these folks every day. In December, yes, but in January and February too. They don't just magically appear for this single 31-day span. Newspapers do them a disservice by acting as though they only exist for this. Yes, that little homeless boy would love toys this month. But he would also like to have a place to live, and food to eat, and other toys to play with, and a life worth living for the other 11 months of the year.

If those in the journalism profession want to spread the word about how their readers (and viewers) can help the less-fortunate, they should take a longer-term, more realistic approach. They should stop trying to assuage their guilt and focus on true solutions. Charities need help, of course, but their game is not ours.

Election Lessons

A few points spring to mind after the presidential elections of this month.

1.) Horse race coverage has sped up, but its importance dropped. I followed every step of this thing, from the primaries to the summer and into the fall. All the horse race knowledge in the world didn't affect the result. The election seems to have been decided by long-swirling forces.

2.) The echo chamber endangers online readers. We can become wrapped up in blogs and other assorted political sites that tell us exactly what we want to hear. Even an "objective" political journalist could find backing for whatever scroop he or she wanted to write. The problem? We lose a sense of who voters actually support.

3.) CBS News needs to -- oh, forget it.

4.) Let's not jump the gun afterward. Folks tried to attribute Bush's win to "values voters," but that theory evaporated within a few days. Many did vote on "values," of course, but that's not unusual. Fears about terrorism and leadership ended up pushing many toward the incumbent.

5.) The news media still has a job to do. Reporting accurately about the current administration or its challenger doesn't mean we're unpatriotic. Disseminating such information is the essence of patriotism. Political operatives would have the public believe otherwise. They're wrong.