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You’re confused? Spare a thought for your readers.
In summer 2007, I decided I was stressed (long story, email me for all the juicy details). So I took myself off to a meditation course.
The course leader was a sweet old lady in her 70s. Grey hair piled into an unruly bun, skewered by a dark brown chopstick. A lived-in face and a sweet, sing-song voice.
To break the ice, she asked everybody where they were from. It all went smoothly until she reached a man in a rumpled tracksuit.
“And where are you from?” she said solicitously.
“Where,” he repeated in a dull monotone.
“Yes, where are you from?” she said again, the embodiment of indulgence and patience.
“Where,” he repeated, without the rising intonation of a question.
“That’s right – where are you from?” with not a hint of exasperation. (She was a walking advert for the benefits of meditation.)
“Where,” he said again. “W-a-r-e. It’s a place in Hertfordshire.”
We all smiled and heaved a collective sigh of relief. From there, the only direction was upwards.
***
Confusion is everywhere, in the written and the spoken word. And here are the second five in my Top 10 easily confused words.
- affect / effect
This one is guaranteed to set your head spinning, so take a deep breath before carrying on.
Affect is usually a verb (dredge your memory banks – a verb is a doing word). So you might write the credit crunch has badly affected the housing market.
Effect, on the other hand is usually (note the usually) a noun (a thing, in common parlance). I had three whiskies last night, and I’m still feeling the effects (a purely hypothetical example, you understand).
Now here’s the chaser: effect can also be used as a verb. Nicolas Sarkozy promised to effect change in France.
- imply / infer
To imply is to suggest something: my boss implied that my work wasn’t up to scratch. In other words, he made it clear, without actually saying it straight out.
It’s very often confused with infer. So here’s an easy way to remember which is which: imply is to do with sending, infer to do with receiving.
So if, on the other hand, my boss made a remark about my work that was ambiguous, or open to interpretation, I might infer that my work wasn’t up to scratch.
Luckily for me, I’m my own boss – so the implying and inferring is kept under one roof.
- fortuitous / fortunate
If you know the difference between these two words, then you’re very fortunate indeed – most people don’t.
Fortuitous means by chance. It’s random, and not necessarily positive: the principal made the fortuitous discovery of my stash of cigarettes [bad].
Fortunate means lucky. So I could say fortunately, the principal didn’t discover my stash of cigarettes [good].
- they’re / there / their
“If you are in your 40s and British,” The Economist wrote a couple of weeks back, “it is quite possible that your spelling is an embarrassment. You may never have been taught the distinction between “there”, “their” and “they’re”, or perhaps even your times tables.”
It’s not just forty-something Brits, though. These three little words cause confusion among people of all ages and in all locations.
They’re is a contraction of they are. There is the opposite of here. And their means of them.
Put them all together and you have they’re going to put their bags over there.
- led / lead / lead
A few months back, a client corrected some copy I’d sent them. It had included the phrase this led to big increases in productivity. Her amended version read this lead to big increases in productivity.
So who was right? Here’s a clue: not her.
It’s an easy mistake to make. The past tense of lead is led. Unfortunately, it rhymes with lead (as in pipes, pencils and balloons). So there’s an understandable hesitation.
Unconfused? Good. Now perhaps you’d like to do something ahout your stress levels. I know a very good course.
Just email me and I’ll tell you Ware where.
You might not notice – but somebody will.
Several years ago, a friend of mine worked for a recruitment consultancy. Let’s call them Acme Inc.
Their contracting arm (which supplied staff to companies on a contract basis) was called Acme Inc. Independant Services.
Did you feel a twitch of discomfort as you read that? Good. So did my friend – and one day, over an end-of-the-week glass of Chardonnay, he mentioned it to his boss.
Independant, he explained, doesn’t exist. Dependant does (the woman had three dependants). Dependent does (the three children were dependent on her). Independent does (he stood as an independent candidate).
But independant doesn’t.
His boss, playing for time, drained his glass. Then, he smiled his twinkly smile, and slurred, “it’s a deliberate mistake. It shows that we really are different.”
My friend returned his smile, considered his career, and kept his mouth shut.
Write to the point
Good grammar is important to good writing. Would you consider showing a client around messy offices? How about answering the phone informally? Or having a logo that’s skew?
Of course you wouldn’t.
But somehow, dodgy grammar flies under the radar. At least, most of the time. For somebody out there will notice – and they’ll draw conclusions pretty fast.
So here are the first five of my Top 10 easily confused words.
- who’s/whose
Who’s is a contraction of who is. So you can say who’s at the door? But you can’t say the man who’s car I ran into. It’s an understandable mistake (Peter’s car, Jane’s car, who’s car). Instead, you should say the man whose car I ran into.
- i.e / e.g.
If you’re a Latin scholar, you’ll never confuse these. But most people nowadays don’t know their amo from their amas. i.e. stands for ‘id est’, which means ‘that is’. In other words, you’re explaining what you’ve just referred to (the Chancellor of the Exchequer i.e. the Minister of Finance). e.g. on the other hand, stands for ‘exempli gratia’, and means ‘for the sake of example’. It’s used when you’re giving one example among many. So you could write one of the permanent members of the UN Security Council e.g. France.
- disinterested / uninterested
It’s common nowadays to see disinterested used as the opposite of interested, as in my brother is disinterested in politics. It should be my brother is uninterested in politics. Disinterested means impartial or neutral, so you could say to resolve the dispute, we need a disinterested party to hold mediation talks.
- principal / principle
Just the other day, I read on a web site our guiding principals are honesty, integrity and efficiency. And that’s wrong. For a principal is more likely to guide a school, if anything. Or you could talk about a principal ballerina. If you’re talking about values, it’s principle every time.
- it’s / its
This is a very common mistake – and an understandable one. If you can say Peter’s hat and my uncle’s house, you’d expect to say the house lost it’s roof in the storm. But you don’t. Instead, you say its roof. It’s is a contraction of it is. So you could say it’s a lovely house (but not if it lost its roof in a storm).
If your head’s already hurting, then perhaps it’s time to lay lie down.
Part 2 next week.
…from Starbucks, Eurostar, Tesco and play.com
Four things happened to me this week.
OK, more than four things, but since you haven’t got all day, I’ll give you the short version.
Extra strong – with wings
First, I hung out at Starbucks, which is better than any serviced office I’ve ever seen. You can stretch one cup out all afternoon, as you huddle over your laptop.
But this time, I decided to leave my comfort zone. No, not my favourite armchair by the window. But my coffee.
You see, I normally opt for a grande, skinny, decaf, sugar-free hazelnut, extra-hot latte - enough to give any barista RSI as they scramble to tick all the boxes.
But this time, I decided to change. A regular coffee seemed an appropriate departure, so I consulted the board. Americano, I thought. That’ll do the trick.
But wait…what about Freshly Brewed Coffee? It was much cheaper, and that was enough to tip the balance.
So that’s what I ordered. And instantly regretted it.
Americano is basically a diluted espresso, made on the spot from achingly fresh coffee beans. Whereas Freshly Brewed Coffee is, well, not really fresh.
The barista pivoted round, flipped the tap on a big silver urn, and filled the cup with tired old dregs.
So that would be Freshly Stewed Coffee.
Lesson 1: don’t stretch language beyond its limits.
Next stop Paris
From there, where else could the week go? Upwards was the only way, and yesterday, Eurostar put a smile on my face.
I live in Cambridge, and every week, like it or not, the local freesheet newspaper lands on my mat. Usually, it goes straight in to the recycle bin.
But not this time.
Paris – An all hours guide, the cover (which wasn’t really the cover, but a advert wrap) said. Pull out. Fold up. Pocket it.
The inside is crammed full of useful listings – places to eat, relax, and boogie on down. The back has a handy map. There are even Cambridge-Paris train times (via King’s Cross/St Pancras).
And coolest of all, a handy origami-style diagram showing you how to fold it all into a pocket map.
Brilliant. Just brilliant. Why?
It’s targeted, it’s personal and it’s useful. Even if I don’t want to go to Paris tomorrow, I’ll keep it for when I do.
And so Eurostar has achieved the Holy Grail – an advert I’ll never throw away.
Lesson 2: think smart, think targeted, think like a reader.
Bag for life (not)
Tesco delivered my internet shopping this week, all neatly packed in carrier bags. Re-use this carrier bag and collect Green Clubcard Points, each bag cried out at me.
If only I could.
At least half of the bags had the handles knotted – double-knotted. And they’d been lifted into the crate at the store, then out of the crate on to my doorstep, then again to my kitchen.
Each time the knot got a little tighter. In the end, the only way I could open them was with scissors.
You see the green problem.
When I pointed it out to Tesco customer service, they said they’d put a note on my account.
But what about all the other shopping packed at that store? In fact, at every store countrywide? How many bags were being wasted, I wondered. Surely they could feed it back to somebody who could change things?
Silence. Then they said they’d put a note on my account.
So I dropped it. Some battles you can’t win.
Lesson 3: make sure everybody in your company shares your values.
Game over
This week I ordered a DVD – La Vie en Rose (it’s known as La Môme in France).
It’s the fourth French film I’ve ordered in as many weeks, so play.com have a pretty good idea of my tastes. Perfect for marketing purposes.
Or so you’d think.
On the invoice that came with the DVD, they’d conveniently printed a list of other bestselling and upcoming titles.
Clever. But also not so clever.
For their titles included Knocked Up: Extended and Unprotected Special Edition, along with Hellboy and Superbad. Oh, and Death Note: Limited Edition.
It would have been a simple bit of database programming to pull out the upcoming French titles.
Lesson 4: try selling what your customers are buying. You’ll be pleasantly surprised.
The little word that makes a big difference
Want people to read what you write? Of course you do.
Then talk to them directly. You may not know their name, but they all have one thing in common: they’re all called ‘you’.
Recently, I saw this sign at a local supermarket. It stopped me in my tracks. I’ve probably seen thousands of fire-exit signs in my life, but I’ve never given them much attention.
Until now.
This one made me pull out my phone-that’s-really-a-camera and take a picture.
One day, I thought, it might be me trapped inside that burning building, scrambling to get past a woman with a trolley filled with Coke and thick-crust pizzas, and a man arguing about money-off coupons while thick, acrid smoke billowed around us.
You. It’s such an obvious tactic to use, that we often overlook it.
At my gym, there’s a list of 10 ‘rules and regulations’ (what’s the difference, exactly?).
One says: the male members shall wear a training top.
Quite apart from the unintended innuendo, there’s the imperious use of ‘shall’. I’m tempted to strip off just to see what happens.
The notice is signed (inevitably) ‘The Management’.
And here’s the thing: never once does it say you. So the tone is cold, distant, and bossy. I’m likely to make a note of the rules simply to remember to break them as often as possible.
If you want people to take notice, try these three things:
- Keep it simple.
- Be direct.
- Use ‘you’.
By order,
The Management
Think twice before you use a UFO – an unidentified foreign object
 Several years ago, a friend of a friend decided to give her sales literature a touch of class. And what could be classier than giving it a light sprinkling of French?
So that’s just what she did.
She had her web copy rewritten, as well as her brochure, case studies and virtually every other piece of marketing collateral she had.
And it certainly added something – though not quite what she expected.
She’d intended to say that her company was different, out of the ordinary - it had that little something extra that made her stand out from the crowd.
The phrase she needed was ready-made in French: je ne sais quoi. Literally, it means I don’t know what – that elusive quality that defies description, but gives you the edge.
Except that’s not what she wrote.
Throughout every piece of written communication she had, she wrote je ne sais pas – I don’t know, which creates an altogether different impression.
A faux pas if ever there was one.
So if you’re thinking of giving your copy a little foreign flavour, try following these three simple rules.
1. You have to to get it right
To see just how odd an incorrect foreign expression appears, all we have to do is look at some of the ‘English’ that foreign marketers use to give them that extra something.
- Some years ago, Coca-Cola cans in Japan carried the slogan I feel Coke & sound special. (No, don’t think about it – it doesn’t help.)
- How about a nice new suit from a men’s clothing store in Brussels called Big Nuts? Sounds like an offer you can refuse.
- If you’re roasting a turkey in France, make sure you cover it with tin foil. Or Alu-Fanny, it’s called the other side of the Channel.
Luckily, we don’t coin such toe-curlingly awful examples. But we do mangle perfectly good expressions with depressing regularity.
Just recently, I saw a perfume ad that talked about joie de vie (it should be joie de vivre). And on more than one occasion, I’ve seen ad nauseum (instead of ad nauseam) in otherwise excellent copy.
2. It can’t get in the way of comprehension
If you write about a per diem allowance, will you audience know that it’s daily?
If you write plus ça change, will your readers know the implication – or even the rest of the phrase? (In full, it’s plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose – the more things change, the more the stay the same.)
If not, maybe you should simply write nothing ever changes.
Just to be clear: it’s all about context.
These expressions would be perfectly acceptable if you were writing for a specialised audience. But in the mass market of copywriting, anything that gets in the way of understanding is a bad thing.
3. It must pass the overnight test
You write it. You’re pleased with it. You keep reading it and marvelling at your handiwork.
Now leave it overnight, and in the harsh, unforgiving light of a new day, see if you like it as much.
Thought not.
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