Main Points, Revisited, of Orwell’s Famous Essay

In a variety of venues, my co-blogger Wild Bill and I have been pointing out the degree to which George Orwell’s famous essay, “Politics and the English Language,” has some problems and is often remembered (we argue) for the wrong reasons—namely, some points about such things as using foreign words and using the passive voice. We think it deserves to be remembered more for its major point, or premise, which is that political language, broadly defined, and other kinds of official language can harm people’s thinking, people’s capacity to analyze, and that this harm, in turn, can further make language more slippery.

We don’t imagine our critique of the weak parts of the essay will or could damage its stature, nor is that our aim. We do imagine that it is possible to line up the stature with what we think is really good and often missed about the essay.
That said, my purpose in this post is to summarize Orwell’s major points and put the minor ones in proper proportion, and I realize “major,” “minor,” and “proper proportion” are arguable.

Anyway, here goes:

Orwell’s main points, with some interpretation:

1. English is “in a bad way” because it’s been abused—sorry about the passive voice, George—by writers and speakers engaged in or affected by politics, which is by nature deceptive. (Orwell concentrates on writers, not speakers.)

2. I think what Orwell means by “the English language” is really public discourse in the form of political speeches, comments by punditry, political ads, and so on. That is, I’m not sure politics or anything but extinction can put “the English language” in its totality in a bad way. English exists and evolves, a protean phenomenon. People use it well or badly or just all right. It’s language in the public arena that’s in trouble—according to Orwell.

3. The misuses of English affect how people analyze writing and speech, how they interpret information, and how they make decision. That is, bad use of the language can lead to bad concrete effects such as terrible decisions and severely misinformed, badly duped citizens. The situation may become a spiral.

About those who use the language badly, often on purpose but sometimes just through bad habits, not malevolence:

1. Insincere people use it to deceive other people, to make bad things sound okay, and to delay doing the right thing. Orwell pins responsibility on insincerity. His version of “make bad things sound okay” is to make murder seem respectable (my paraphrase). A more current example is the description of torture as “enhanced techniques of interrogation.”
2. One main deception is to hide responsibility, according to Orwell. “Mistakes were made” is a classic example, one in which the passive voice does indeed hide “the agent,” the one who made the mistake.
3. Sometimes the misuse springs more from laziness and carelessness than it does from insincerity. You know the degree to which we all, including journalists, pundits, those who work in governmental and corporate communication, politicians, academics, and “public intellectuals” (like academics who go on TV) get careless or lazy.
What does Orwell mean by this alleged misuse/abuse of English?

Specifically, he mentions things like clichés, dead metaphors (metaphors we’ve heard and seen a million times, such as “you can’t teach a dog new tricks), ready-made phrases (like the tired, hyperbolic phrase I just used, “a million times”).

As noted, he doesn’t like the passive voice, although he uses it quite a bit in the essay.

He doesn’t like foreign words/phrases because he thinks people use them to sound important or smart, to puff themselves up by puffing up their rhetoric.

He doesn’t like euphemisms (“enhanced techniques of interrogation”).

He doesn’t like specialized words—jargon.

This last part—specific alleged abuses that Orwell doesn’t like—is where Wild Bill and I think Orwell’s case is weak. For example, writers and speakers can use the passive voice and still be clear and have sincere motives, and they can use it and still pinpoint responsibility. Also, sometimes specialized words are fine, as are foreign words. Sometimes you need a specialized word or term, such as voi dire, to be precise. Same goes for foreign words/terms, like schadenfreude. We get his larger point about puffing up rhetoric, but we think he makes too much of some examples. Sometimes even metaphors that have been around a long time work fine, such as trying to teach an old dog new tricks.

We have two more objections that are related to the point above and that we think amount to a more significant critique. Let’s put the first in the form of a rhetorical question. George, is it really the passive voice and foreign words that have made the language of politics, political advertising, political journalism, and political punditry & partisanship so awful?

A second objection: is lack of clarity or directness always the main problem? For instance, when a candidate says, “I want to create jobs,” he or she is being clear and pithy. The problem is that the statement is empty. Another problem is that when, for instance, Newt Gingrich, echoing Romney’s economic “plan,” says (I paraphrase), “Yeah, some teachers and fire-fighters are going to lose their jobs—tough break”– and roughly 50% of the citizenry metaphorically nods in agreement. Too many teaching and fire-fighting jobs—that really the big economic problem? Cuts there are really the solution?

But let’s not get hung up on the policy-stuff or on GOPers v. Dems.

The point is that Romney, Gingrich, Obama, and politicians from across the spectrum often speak/write directly and clearly and still deceive. Now, it may be that fuzzy, slippery language helped to soften up some of the citizens so that they’re less likely to say, “Hey, wait a minute—that doesn’t make sense.” We grant that Orwell may be right about that. But in the specific instance, an absence of clarity isn’t the problem.

What to do, as a writer, not to get on Orwell’s enemies-list:

Make yourself write clearly, but of course keep the rhetorical situation in mind: the purposes and audience of what you’re writing. For instance, Wild Bill may write something in a political science article that seems unclear to me but only because I’m not part of his intended audience. People in his line of work will read what I read and in no way think it’s unclear.

Work on eliminating bad habits. Be less lazy and careless as you write and especially as you revise. When you revise, be kind of tough on yourself–but not pathologically so. It’s possible to get so compulsive you can’t get your work done.

Keep in check any lurking desires to “sound” smarter or more important than you really are. If you’re using writing or speaking to deceive and you know the deception to be wrong (sometimes deception is not wrong), check yourself. Say, “All right, I’m being a bull-shitter here, it’s not right, and I’d better go back and get rid of the bullshit”

Sure, clichés, jargon, stock phrases, and euphemisms may come up in your writing and make it less clear, precise, and honest. If so, edit them out. But other types of words and phrases may cause more problems than these, so don’t treat Orwell’s examples as gospel, or a s formula. Think for yourself.

Salazar’s Answer to Sanders Gushes

In a recent senatorial hearing, Senator Bernie Sanders asked Interior Secretary Ken Salazar whether a savings of 3 cents per gallon of gas in 2030 [the estimated effect of oil produced from offshore drilling on market-costs] is worth the risks of off-shore drilling and whether the Obama administration will now re-institute a moratorium on offshore drilling. The answers were yes and no–I think–but they showed up only after a rhetoric pipeline gushed verbiage for 5 minutes of the 6-minute video. Also, raising MPG standards to 35 MPG would, according to Sanders, save a buck a gallon by 2030. Anyway, listen to the bureau-rhetorical leak if you dare:


Incidentally, what Bush II policies hasn’t President Obama supported? –Not a rhetorical question, just one to which I don’t have a ready answer.

Chiding Orwell

My co-blogger sent me a link to the “Mind Your Language” blog at the Guardian in the UK, and particularly to a piece inviting readers to vote for their favorite (that is, least favorite) political campaign cliche:

Mind Your Language

The MYL bloggers are squarely in Orwell’s corner, to use an overly familiar metaphor of which Orwell would not approve. Some who comment on the post about cliche’s aren’t. (My co-blogger and I began to explore the ways in which Orwell’s analysis, in his famous essay, may be insufficient: see the link to the paper, “Teaching George Orwell in Karl Rove’s World” at left.)

The MYL bloggers cite Orwell’s famous list of advice to writers, and I’ll copy the list from their site and then quibble with Orwell gently, even as I continue to pay homage to his indelible essay:

• Never use a metaphor, simile or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.

[Especially good advice for poets and fiction writers, who are in the business of inventing new comparisons, but for essay-writers, something like “a day late and a dollar short” may achieve a desired effect fine.]

• Never use a long word where a short one will do.

[Lovers of Latinate roots may recoil from this one, and short isn’t necessarily better, as Orwell himself seems to have decided when he used “barbarous” (see below).]

• If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.

[Not bad advice, but some essay-writers may want to keep the word to maintain a rhythm in the sentence. And notice that Orwell could have cut “out” twice, above.]

• Never use the passive where you can use the active.

[Good advice, especially if the passive is hiding agency (responsibility). At the same time, “never” is a bit Puritanical. “We were rained on” is fine, no worse than “The clouds rained on us.”]

• Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.

[Well, I think “milieu” and “schadenfreude” are useful and precise, and what if the scientific word is exactly what you mean? And one person’s jargon may be another person’s precision: much depends on the audience to whom you’re writing.]

• Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

[Good of Orwell to put in this safety-valve, which may be a worn-out metaphor. However, the word “barbarous” here has always bothered me, partly, I think, because I never knew exactly what Orwell meant by it in this context. I suspect (but cannot prove) that he had something like “good taste” in mind, but writers who think in terms of good taste are sometimes more likely to use Latinate words or not cut their prose as much as they could.]

Nonetheless, it’s way past 1984, and I’m still trying to mind my language, thanks in part to Eric Blair.

The Former Vice President Throws Junk

Here is a key part of former Vice President Dick Cheney’s statement concerning the torture-related documents just released (with lots of parts blacked out and therefore not released):

“The documents released Monday clearly demonstrate that the individuals subjected to Enhanced Interrogation Techniques provided the bulk of intelligence we gained about al Qaeda.”

In baseball, the fundamental pitch is the fastball, the idea being that if the fastball is fast enough, the batter’s reflexes will be unable to catch up with the pitch. In a way, it’s the most honest pitch.  Deception enters the pitching game with the curve-ball, the slider, the split-finger fastball, and so on.

Pitchers who just don’t have a speedy fastball (by definition, they have slowball) tend to rely on deception, on trying to make the ball curve, spin, and jump so that the batter will overlook, so to speak, the mediocre velocity.  Traditionally, such pitchers have been characterized as relying on “junk.”

If truth were speed, Dick Cheney might be accused of pitching junk today, and batter Eric Blair (George Orwell) would probably be forgiven for hitting the former Vice President’s pitch out of the “yard”.

Unfortunately, those who are inclined to believe anything Cheney says will swing and miss.

“The documents released Monday clearly demonstrate that the individuals subjected to Enhanced Interrogation Techniques provided the bulk of intelligence we gained about al Qaeda.

Orwell would spot the passive voice immediately (“individuals subjected to Enhanced Interrogation”). Subjected by whom?  Orwell would also probably cackle at the cluster of euphemisms: “subjected to,” in place of slapped, beaten, threatened, drowned, abused, starved, kicked, terrorized. “Enhanced Interrogation” in place of “torture.”  If Cheney thinks torture is all right, he should say “torture.” The euphemism is the equivalent of a “tell” in poker.  He’s fudging.

Ah, but the logical gem? “The people Americans tortured provided the bulk of intelligence about al Qaeda.”  This statement asserts no more than that the persons questioned divulged information. The statement says nothing about the efficacy (let alone the legality or morality) of torutre. However, Cheney knows that people who relexively agree with his position will not process the statement that way.  They’ll do the semantic conversion for him and nod their heads and think, “Yup, torture works, so it’s all right.”

But Cheney was unable even to throw that fastball. All he could manage was a screwball, or a spitball.  Basically, he’s just arguing that “the people we had in custody provided important information”–as opposed to the people we didn’t have in custody.

After all the posturing in the last few months, this is all Cheney can manage? This is all he can throw?  In baseball, they’d say, “He’s got nothin.’ He’s got no stuff.”  Junk.

–Which tells an alert listener and reader that the documents, “redacted” (whatever) though they may be, don’t, in fact, support Cheney’s earlier claims.

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