Prescriptivist's Corner: Confusing Word Pairs (Part 2)

1 February 2003

Here we have another installment of confused word pairs. These are words that, while they look similar, have distinct differences in meaning or usage and are often used improperly. Again, our favorite loan shark, Vinnie “The Squid” Calamari, takes us on a tour of how to use these words correctly.

Affect/effect. As a noun, the word that you almost always wants is effect. The noun affect is only used in psychological jargon. As a verb, affect means to influence, while effect means to bring about or accomplish. Vinnie effected the change in his collection policy, which positively affected the bottom line.

Amid/among. Both refer to being in the middle, but among is used with countable items, while amid is used for mass items that cannot be separated. Amidst and amongst carry the same distinction; these -st forms are more commonly found in British English than in American. If you are amid a sea of bad debt, Vinnie will make sure that you end up among the fishes.

Arbitrator/mediator. These are not the same. An arbitrator passes judgment in a dispute and his or her decision is binding. A mediator is a negotiator who attempts to reach a mutually agreeable solution to the dispute. Tony and Vito came to Vinnie and asked him to arbitrate their dispute, asking him to draw the boundary between their territories. Vinnie tried to mediate the dispute between Tony and Vito, but they would not listen to his suggestions.

Banzai/bonsai. The first is a Japanese war cry. The second is a Japanese gardening style involving very small trees.

Born/borne. These two are especially easy to confuse. Born is only used in the sense of childbirth. His wife had just given birth to their first-born son, so Vinnie let the interest payment slide for a week. Borne, on the other hand, is used for toleration or support. The debt he owed Vinnie was too much to be borne. Borne is also used to denote the action of giving birth. She has borne three children.

Calvary/cavalry. The first is the hill on which Jesus was crucified. It can also be used figuratively to denote an ordeal or great suffering. The second is a type of mounted military unit, on horseback in days gone by, on tanks and helicopters nowadays. Joe was undergoing his own Calvary of sorts at Vinnie’s hands in the alley when the flashing red and blue lights announced that the cavalry had arrived.

Chafe/chaff. To chafe is to make sore by rubbing. To chaff is to tease. Chaff can also be a noun, denoting waste products from threshing grain or other fine particles of debris. The chaffing that Vinnie received from the other capos really chafed him.

Complement/compliment. To complement something is to add to it. Compliment means to praise or to offer something for free. A simple mnemonic for this one is I like to receive compliments. Vinnie complimented Tony on how he used the thumbscrew to complement the body blows.

Contemporary/contemporaneous. Both terms refer to coincidence and temporal similarity, but the usages are slightly different. Contemporary is used in reference to people and contemporaneous to things and events. Vinnie and Tony were contemporaries, becoming made men at the same time. Vinnie refused the bet because the call was contemporaneous with post time. Contemporary also has a sense of modern, pertaining to the current age. Because of this, one should avoid using it in comparison to things past; use modern instead. To say “impressionist and contemporary styles” is confusing. Is one referring to impressionists and their contemporaries, or impressionists and modern artists?

Definite/definitive. To be definite is to be precise, explicit. Definitive means final, authoritative. Vinnie’s orders were definite; under no circumstances was a bookie to alter the odds. Whacking Tony before he entered the witness protection program was a definitive solution to the rat problem.

Disinterested/uninterested. Disinterested is to have no stake in the outcome. Uninterested means not caring about the outcome. Vinnie trusted Vito to set the odds, because Vito was disinterested, never placing a bet for himself. Tony had a lot of money riding on the game, but seemed distracted and uninterested in the outcome.

Flaunt/flout. Flaunt means to show off; flout means to disregard. Tony flaunted his new Cadillac, flouting Vinnie’s instructions not to make any big purchases immediately after the heist.

Forbear/forebear. Forbear is a verb. It means to stop or refrain from. A forebear is an ancestor. Vinnie forbore from hitting Tony, even though Tony had insulted the memory of his forebears.

Hail/hale. Hail is a greeting or a shower of rain or other objects. Hale is an adjective meaning healthy and full of vigor. Hale can also be a verb meaning to compel someone to go. After Vinnie hailed Tony with a hail of bullets, the second gangster could hardly be described as hale and hearty. The sheriff haled Vinnie into court.

Imply/infer. To imply is to suggest. To infer is to deduce. Vinnie implied the man’s family was in danger by showing him photos of his children at play. The man inferred from Vinnie’s stern gaze that he had better pay up soon.

Its/It’s. Its is the possessive form of the pronoun it. It’s is a contraction for it is.

Lead/led. Lead is a soft, gray metal. With a different pronunciation it can also be the present tense of a verb meaning to guide, to command. Led is the past tense of that verb. Vinnie tied lead weights to the man’s hands and feet and then led him onto the boat.

Libel/slander. A libel is a written statement that falsely defames and damages a person. A slander is a spoken statement that does the same. Libel, since it is written and more permanent, is considered more serious than slander. Vinnie sued the paper for libel, claiming he was just a consultant for the waste disposal and cartage industry and not a Mafioso as the paper claimed. Tony slandered Vinnie in the social club, saying that Vinnie didn’t take proper care of his mother.

Luxuriant/luxurious. A profusion of something is luxuriant. Something that is expensive and posh is luxurious. Vinnie’s new girlfriend had luxuriant red hair that complemented the luxurious mink coat that Vinnie had bought her.

Militate/mitigate. To militate is to work against or negate. To mitigate is to lessen in degree, to make something easier to bear. The phrase mitigate against is always wrong; the word here should be militate. Vinnie got his friends at city hall to militate against the police crackdown on illegal gambling. The judge reduced Vinnie’s sentence due to mitigating factors.

Obsolescent/Obsolete. If something is obsolescent, it is on its way to becoming useless and no longer needed. If something is obsolete, it has already got there. Vinnie liked the old bookie and respected his experience, but the man’s paper system of tracking bets was cumbersome and obsolete in this information age. The younger guys preferred nine-millimeters and called Vinnie’s old .45-caliber obsolescent, but Vinnie thought the old gun still got the job done.

Parlay/parley. To parlay is to use one’s winnings or achievements to accomplish a second goal. To parley is to talk or confer or a conference. Vinnie parlayed his winnings from the first race into a considerable sum in the second. Vinnie decided he needed to parley with those reluctant to pay up.

Premier/premiere. The first is a head of government or an adjective meaning of the highest rank. The second is an opening or debut. Vincent Calamari, the premier mobster in the city, attended the premiere of Pagliacci.

Principal/principle. The first means the primary or main. The second is a fundamental tenet or ethical belief. While he might give regular customers a break on the interest rate, as a matter of principle Vinnie never reduced the principal on a loan.

Raise/raze. The first means to lift up, to build. The second means to level to the ground. When writing, the phrase raze to the ground is redundant, although the addition of to the ground in some circumstances might avoid confusion when speaking. Vinnie raised the interest rate. The fire that Vinnie had started razed the sporting goods store. 

Book Review: Predicting New Words

1 February 2003

Allan Metcalf has written an intriguing book about why certain words are successful, catching on and becoming part of vernacular, while others fail, destined to occupy some obscure corner of the English language or to be forgotten entirely. In Predicting New Words: The Secrets of Their Success, Metcalf presents a methodology for predicting which new coinages are likely to be with us fifty years from now and which ones will be on the linguistic scrap heap.

Metcalf, who is a professor of English at MacMurray College in Illinois and executive secretary of the American Dialect Society (ADS), has been looking at new words and the factors that lead to their success for years. Every year, the ADS takes a lighthearted look at new or newly prominent words and honors them as “Words of the Year.” Metcalf noted, however, that many of these annual selections quickly disappeared from the national vocabulary, while other words that escaped the group’s notice went on to linguistic success and placement in the very best of dictionaries.

In Predicting New Words, Metcalf presents a methodology for predicting what words are likely to succeed. He has devised a scale, which he calls FUDGE, that consists of five “fudge factors.” These are:

• Frequency of use: a straightforward evaluation of the popularity of a term; the more often it is used, the more likely it is to succeed

• Unobtrusiveness: successful words are not noticed; they are adopted and used unconsciously; words and phrases that are too clever or associated with a pop culture movement tend to fade quickly

• Diversity of users and situations: popularity alone is not enough; the word must also be used by a wide variety of people to be successful

• Generation of other forms and meanings: successful words tend to be used as other parts of speech, e.g., “verbing” nouns, or have multiple meanings or can be extended as metaphors

• Endurance of the concept: the thing the word represents must be lasting if the word is to last as well.

Metcalf takes new words and rates them using the FUDGE factors. He gives each factor a rating of 0, 1, or 2. He then adds up all five factors and comes up with a single number that represents the potential for the word’s success. Ratings of seven or higher are likely to succeed. Words rated a five or six may have hang on at the fringe of the language, but they will not occupy a permanent place in the general vocabulary. Those with four or less are pretty much doomed to failure.

Metcalf applies the methodology to some recently prominent words, predicting their chances of success:

AtmosFear (nervousness about pollution and terrorist attacks on the environment): Frequency: 1 (actively promoted by its coiner, futurist Faith Popcorn); Unobtrusiveness: 0 (too clever, mid-word capitalization); Diversity: 0 (Popcorn is the only one using it); Generation: 0 (no derivatives); Endurance: 1 (acute post 9-11 fears will subside); Total: 2 (the word is doomed).

Homeland; Frequency: 1 (widely used in news reports, but not in daily life); Unobtrusiveness: 2 (simple); Diversity: 1 (mainly government and news media); Generation: 0 (use is limited to phrase homeland security); Endurance: 1 (it will be around as long as there is bureaucratic entrenchment); Total: 5 (survives on government subsidy).

Chad; Frequency: 1 (a specialist jargon term, except during a few months in late 2000); Unobtrusiveness: 1 (unfamiliar, but not odd); Diversity: 1 (jargon term, except in 2000); Generation: 2 (hanging chad, pregnant chad, dimpled chad); Endurance: 1 (punch cards are dying technology, but still have some life left); Total: 6 (it will hang on as a jargon term and as a historical footnote).

Weapons-grade (potent, spicy); Frequency: 2 (in widespread use); Unobtrusiveness: 2 (natural extension of existing jargon term); Diversity: 2 (from the military to Mexican restaurants); Generation: 1 (no derivative forms, but metaphor is continually extending); Endurance: 2 (nonproliferation and terrorism problems are not going away anytime soon); Total: 9 (this one is here to stay).

What seems to be missing from Metcalf’s FUDGE analysis is the need for a word. Surprisingly, Metcalf concludes that the need for a word or phrase in filling a semantic gap has no bearing on the success of a coined term. Take weapons-grade for example. There really is no need for the term. Outside its original nuclear context, any number of existing words are perfectly good substitutes, potent, spicy, deadly, or hot, for example. Yet, the English language still has no gender-neutral, third-person, singular pronoun, despite countless attempts to coin one. People are perfectly willing to employ multiple words with similar meanings and to engage in complex verbal gymnastics to get around gaps in the language.

Predicting New Words is an excellent examination of what makes a successful word. It is written in a clear, straightforward style with an absence of linguistic jargon. The book also contains some interesting material on brand names and on famous coiners of words, notably Shakespeare and Lewis Carroll. The ultimate validity of the FUDGE analysis method remains to be seen—as Metcalf points out it takes some 40-odd years before one can begin to judge the success of a term. But in the meantime, it is a better system for predicting the success of neologisms than taking stabs in the dark.

Hardcover; 208 pages; Houghton Mifflin Co; October 2002; ISBN: 0618130063; $22.00

American Dialect: Louisiana

1 February 2003

Last month we covered the dialect of the Southern United States. The Southern dialect is not a uniform one and one can see differences as one moves from region to region in the South. The state of Louisiana, however, is so linguistically rich that we are taking some extra time to examine the French influences on the language of the Bayou State.

Louisiana has one of the richest and most complex regional dialects in the United States. A blend of English, French, Spanish, African, and Choctaw languages contributes to this linguistic jambalaya.

Unlike the rest of the eastern United States, Louisiana was not settled by the English. (OK, Florida was first settled by the Spanish, but there is no significant linguistic heritage from these early Spanish settlers—unlike the more recent Hispanic immigrants to that state). Louisiana was settled by the French. They first arrived in 1682 and Louisiana remained under French rule until 1764, when the territory was ceded to Spain. France got the territory back in 1800, only to sell it to the United States in 1803. The Louisiana Purchase is perhaps the biggest real estate deal in history. The original territory of Louisiana was huge, much bigger than the current territory of the state of Louisiana, but the area actually settled by the French was the area that now comprises the state. The French linguistic and cultural influences were mainly in what is today the state of Louisiana.

There are three distinct dialects of French in Louisiana. The first is Louisiana Standard French. This relic of French rule has become increasingly rare over the years, although can still be encountered in written form and today is used primarily for ceremonial purposes.

Beginning in 1755 and lasting for eight years, large numbers of French settlers were forcibly relocated by the British from their newly captured territory of Nova Scotia. That territory had been called Acadia by the French and these Acadians were exiled to Louisiana. Eventually, the name Acadian was corrupted into the modern word Cajun. Cajun English is an English-French mixture spoken in the twenty-three parishes (counties) known as Acadiana. This is another dying dialect, but a small percentage of those still living in Acadiana still speak it as natives.

The third form of French is another English-French mixture. It is known as Creole (Note: Both Cajun and Creole fall into the broad linguistic category of creoles) and has its roots in the French taught to African slaves in Louisiana. It is largely spoken by African-Americans in the state.

Native French speakers in Louisiana are becoming increasingly difficult to find. According to the 1990 census, about a quarter-million Louisianans speak either Cajun or Creole French as their native language.

These three French dialects are a rich source of dialectical terms that have made their way into Louisiana English. Some of these terms are:

Banquette, n., a raised sidewalk. Pronounced /bankit/, it is from the French for footpath.

Bayou, n., is a slow moving creek or river. It is from the Choctaw bayuk, river, via Louisiana French.

Beignet, n., a type of doughnut, but square in shape and with no hole. It is usually served with powdered sugar. From French.

Bobo, n., is a small injury or sore. From French.

Bogue, n., is a stream or waterway. It is from the Choctaw bog or bok, river. Also found in the other Gulf States.

Cher, n., is a term of endearment. Cajun.

Choupique, n., the bowfin or cypress trout. It is a Louisiana French borrowing from the Choctaw shupik or mudfish. The word is also spelled shoe-pick or shoe-peg.

Clothes locker, n., a closet or wardrobe.

Coast, n., a riverbank. Cf. French côte.

Coffee milk, n., is translation (calque) of café-au-lait.

Couillon, n. and adj., is a hick, rube, or stupid person, or an adjective meaning stupid, inept. It is from the French.

Coulee, n., a streambed, especially one that runs dry in summer. It is also used to mean a bayou in the middle of marshland. It is from the French.

Court bouillon, n., a highly seasoned fish stock. It often contains vegetables and wine. It is pronounced /cubie yon/. It is from the French court (condensed) + bouillon.

Cowbelly, n., is soft river mud. It is also used in a transferred sense as a type of work shoe, one suited for the work in mud.

Daube, n., is a stew, especially of beef or veal. It is from the French.

Dirty rice, n., a dish of rice mixed with other ingredients, such as shrimp, sausage, and chicken livers. The name comes from the brown color.

Dodo, n., a nap, a period of sleep. It is from French baby talk. The word is commonly found in the phrases go dodo or make dodo, meaning go to sleep, a translation of faire (un) dodo. Cf. make groceries.

Dos gris, n., an American scaup duck, Fuligula marila. The word is from the Louisiana French for gray back, from the bird’s coloration.

Étouffée, n., is a stew, usually with crawfish and vegetables. Cajun. It is from the French étouffér, to smother.

Go cup, n., a plastic cup used at a New Orleans bar so one can take the drink out onto the street.

Grenouille, n., a green frog or toad. It is from the French.

Gris-gris, n. & v., is magic, a charm or fetish, bad luck, or to cast a spell or charm. Creole. It is ultimately African in origin, although the exact etymological path is lost. It is also spelled grigri.

Gros-bec, n., is a night heron. It is from the French for thick beak.

Gumbo, n., okra. The word is often used to denote a thick soup or stew with okra, other vegetables, and meat. Gumbo filé is this dish when flavored with ground sassafras leaves. It is from Louisiana French and ultimately African in origin.

Hoodoo, n. & v., is a synonym for gris-gris. The word is West African in origin.

Jambalaya, n., is a spicy stew of rice and meat or shellfish. The word is Louisiana French and ultimately from the Provençal jambalaia.

Krewe, n., an organization that organizes parade participants or other festivities for Mardi Gras. The word is a deliberate alteration of crew.

Lagniappe, n., a gift or bonus with purchase. By extension it can also mean anything extra thrown in for good measure. It is pronounced /lan-yap/. (There are variations on pronunciation.) It is from Louisiana French and ultimately from the Spanish la ñapa.

Lost bread, n., French toast. The term is a translation (calque) of the French pain perdu.

Make groceries, v., to go food shopping. Make is a translation of the French faire. Cajun. Cf. dodo.

Marais, n., is a swamp. The word is often found in place names. It is from French.

Mudbug, n., a crawfish.

Muffuletta, n., a sandwich on a large, round bun; the bun used to make the sandwich. The word is a Sicilian dialectical word for a soft, spongy roll.

Neutral ground, n., is the grass median between a divided road or the grassy strip between the sidewalk and the road. The term is also found in southern Mississippi.

Oyster loaf, n., is a baked sandwich of oysters, cream, and other ingredients on a long roll.

Parish, n., is the Louisiana term for the administrative district known as a county in the rest of the United States.

Voodoo, n., is a form of religious witchcraft. The word is African, ultimately from the Dahomey vodu.

Yat, n., 1) a person, usually white and working class, who lives in the Irish Channel section of New Orleans, just upriver of the French Quarter; 2) the dialect spoken by these people. From the phrase “Where y’at?” The Yat dialect is strikingly similar to the New York dialect in pronunciation. This oddity is not explained, although the high proportion of Irish immigrants in both places may partially explain it.

2002 ADS Word of the Year

1 February 2003

At its annual meeting in January, the American Dialect Society (ADS) selects its Word of the Year for the previous year. This word (or phrase) is a term that for whatever reason had special resonance in that year. The words and phrases selected are not necessarily new coinages (in fact they usually are not), but they are terms that have recently come to prominence. In addition to the Word of the Year, other categories of terms are also voted upon. This was the 13th year that the ADS has been honoring such words and phrases.

So this month, instead of our usual offering of a Word of the Month, we will take a look at the ADS nominations and selections for Word of the Year.

The ADS voting for 2002 Word of the Year was held in Atlanta on 3 January 2003. Some sixty-odd ADS members were on hand and voted. Their choice for 2002 Word of the Year, receiving 38 votes, was weapons of mass destruction and its abbreviation WMD. (If you will recall, this was A Way With Words selection for Word of the Month back in December.) This noun phrase refers to nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons and is often extended to radiological weapons. It is also used metaphorically to refer to other devices and actions that kill large numbers of people, albeit slowly through attrition. Landmines are sometimes referred to as weapons of mass destruction and recently Senator Carl Levin referred to the starvation of the North Korean people as a weapon of mass destruction. The term dates to 1937, originally referring to the bombing of cities from the air. It came into the jargon of the arms control community in the early 1960s and exploded into public consciousness this past year.

Honorable Mentions
Other nominees for 2002’s Word of the Year were:

Google, v., to search the Web using the search engine Google for information on a person or thing (11 votes). The verb came to prominence in 2002, but dates to at least 2000. The search engine was named after the mathematical term googol, with the spelling changed for trademark purposes.

Blog, n., clipping of web-log, a website of personal events, comments, and links (6 votes). The term dates to 2000. It is also used as verb meaning to create or maintain such a site.

Amber alert, n., public announcement of a missing child (4 votes). The term dates to 1996. It is named after Amber Hagerman, who had been abducted and killed while riding her bicycle in her Arlington, Texas neighborhood that year. It was thought that she might have been saved had there been a system in place to rapidly notify police and the public of the details of missing children.

Regime change, n., forced change in leadership of a country (3 votes). A jargon term in reference to Iraq, the term dates to 1998; although it can be found earlier in other contexts.

Special Categories
ADS also votes to give special notice to words in particular categories. The categories, winners, and nominees for 2002 are:

Most likely to succeed: blog (30 votes). Other nominees were: Amber alert (20); Axis of _____ (8); and teen angstrel, an angst-ridden popular singer (1).

Most useful: google (verb) (60 votes). Other nominees (none received any votes) were: dataveillance, surveillance using computer data, a term that dates to 1989; the prefix war-, referring to hackers finding locations for unauthorized access to wireless computer networks, as in wardriving, driving around neighborhoods searching for wireless networks, or warchalking, marking of buildings where wireless access is available, the prefix dates to 2002 (from wardialing, the old hacker practice of dialing all phone numbers in an area in a search for computer connections, 1990); and my big fat ______, meaning like no other, extremely, a term popularized by the play and movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

Most creative: Iraqnophobia, strong fear of Iraq (38 votes in a runoff), coined in a David Letterman monologue in August 1990 and revived this year. The other candidate in the runoff was walking piñata, a person subject to relentless criticism, the term dates to 1998 and came to prominence recently in reference to Trent Lott (25 votes). Other nominees in the first vote: dialarhoea, inadvertent dialing of a cell phone in a pocket or handbag (8); 201(k), a 401(k) retirement account ruined by stock losses (8); and apatheist, someone who either believes that God or gods exist but are not of any use or someone who does not care enough to make up their mind about the existence of a deity. This one dates to 1999 (7 votes).

Most unnecessary: wombanization, feminization, from Alexander Barnes’ The Book Read Backwards: The Deconstruction of Patriarchy and the Wombanization of Being (46 votes). Other nominees: Saddameter, meter on television showing daily likelihood of war with Iraq (13); virtuecrat, person both politically correct and morally righteous (10); black tide, large-scale oil pollution at sea (0).

Most outrageous: Neuticles, fake testicles for neutered pets, dates to 1995 (40 votes in a runoff). Other candidate in the runoff: grid butt, marks left on the buttocks by fishnet pantyhose (30). Other candidates in the first vote: sausage fest, slang term for a party with more males than females, dates to 1993 (7); diabulimia, loss of weight by a diabetic skipping insulin doses (3); Botox party, a party at which a physician injects guests with Botox (2); comprendo-challenged, unable to understand the U.S. Constitution (0).

Most euphemistic: regime change (38 votes). Other nominees: V-card, slang term for virginity, as in playing the V-card, 1999 (14); newater, sewage water purified and recycled into the fresh water system (7); unorthodox entrepreneur, a Vancouver term for a panhandler, prostitute, or drug dealer (4); Enronomics, fraudulent business and accounting practices (1); dirty bomb, conventional bomb laced with radioactive material, from 1993 (0).

In 2001, the special category Most Inspirational was created to incorporate Todd Beamer’s Let’s roll!, uttered just before attacking the hijackers of United Flight 93 on 11 September 2001. For 2002, President Bush’s embetterment as in the embetterment of mankind was proposed as justifying another Most Inspirational, but it was rejected 45 votes to 12. Another candidate for Most Inspirational was proposed, grid butt, the runner-up in the Most Outrageous category, but the chair, who favored embetterment, arbitrarily ruled it out of order. A category of Bushisms was suggested for future years.

Past WOTYs
While the ADS is a scholarly organization, the Word of the Year contest is strictly for fun. It is not a serious linguistic endeavor and the linguists of ADS do not have any special skill at predicting what words will succeed. Their track record in this regard is decidedly mixed. Last year the term 9-11 claimed both the Word of the Year and Most Likely to Succeed prizes and it looks as if the term is here to stay, at least as long as the events are in living memory. Often the Word of the Year is a term that aptly sums up major events of the year, but which may not have lasting currency in the language. The words are usually distinctly American in reference and usage, but this is appropriate given that it is the American Dialect Society.

Other past Words of the Year are:

Chad (2000), a word that represents the events of the last two months of the year well, but which is due to become a linguistic footnote due to technology change.

Y2K (1999), like chad it represents its year well, but had little future currency. In 1999, ADS also voted on Word of the Century, jazz, and Word of the Millennium, she. With a greater historical perspective, the significance of these last two choices is obvious.

e- (1998), which edged out sexual relations, as in “I did not have sexual relations with that woman,” in a 31-28 run-off vote.

Millennium bug (1997), a term that would have a shelf life of two more years.

Mom (1996), as in soccer mom, waitress mom, and minivan mom. Soccer mom is still with us; the others are forgotten.

1995 was a tie between World Wide Web and Newt, a verb meaning to make aggressive changes as newcomer. The latter is from the name of the then Speaker of the House of Representatives Newt Gingrich. It spawned several short-lived words like Newt World Order and Newtspeak before they all died a quick and justified death. The World Wide Web has had a much more significant and lasting impact on all our lives than Newt Gingrich did.

1994 was also a tie, this time between cyber and morph, meaning to change shape. Both seem to have slipped into widespread usage rather unobtrusively.

Information Superhighway (1993). The thing survived and boomed; the name did not.

Not! (1992), it was trendy word that year.

Mother of all ____ (1991), again a phrase much used that year but not often afterwards.

Bushlips (1990), meaning insincere political rhetoric. Everyone remembers the quotation, “Read my lips. No new taxes,” but who remembers Bushlips?

The category of Most Likely to Succeed has also had mixed success itself. Seemingly successful predictions (the contest has not been in existence long enough to gauge success definitively) are DVD (1997), World Wide Web (1995) rollerblade (1991), and notebook PC (1990). These will probably remain with us at least as long as the technology in question is relevant.

Others have had mixed success. The Most Likely to Succeed for 2000 was muggle, which has not gained lasting currency outside the confines of the Harry Potter universe. In 1999 the winner of this category was dot-com—a term that has done better than the companies it represents. The term for 1998 was the prefix e-. While words like e-mail and e-commerce are still going strong, the prefix has largely ceased to be productive and is not generating new words. And in 1992 the term judged Most Likely to Succeed was snail mail. It is hanging in there, but seems to be fading.

And yet others judged likely to succeed are all but forgotten. 1996’s drive-by survives in the original drive-by shooting, but all the other slang senses like drive-by viewing and drive-by surgery are dead. Similarly Infobahn (1996), quotative (1993), and rightsizing (1990) are long since forgotten.

The full lists of choices and nominees for previous years, dating back to 1990, can be found on the ADS website, http://www.americandialect.org/woty.html.

Prescriptivist's Corner: Confusing Word Pairs (Part 1)

1 January 2003

English has many pairs of words that are spelled almost identically or have meanings that are almost, but not quite synonymous. These words are often confused and writers frequently use one when they mean to use the other.

So here, with the help of our favorite loan shark, Vinnie “The Squid” Calamari, we present some of these word pairs and examples of how to use them correctly.

Adverse/averse. The first means negative or hostile (cf. adversary) and is usually used to describe things, not people; the second means disinclined or reluctant and since it denotes feeling or opinion can only be applied to people. If you are risk averse, then the potential adverse consequences of not paying a loan back to Vinnie are enough to dissuade you from taking his money in the first place.

Ambiguous/equivocal. They both mean vague or capable of multiple meanings and interpretations, but ambiguous connotes no information about intent. An ambiguous statement can be accidental or intentional, while equivocal connotes that the statement is intended to be vague. Because of his bad handwriting, Vinnie’s message was ambiguous. Vinnie’s statement to the grand jury was equivocal.

Amoral/immoral. Amoral is used to mean without regard for ethics or outside the sphere of morality, while immoral is used to denote evil or depravity, the polar opposite of moral. Because his customers were all adults who willingly took his money knowing the consequences of failing to repay, Vinnie considered his business to be amoral, but he thought those who hurt innocent children were immoral.

Auger/augur. An auger is a drill. Augur is a verb meaning to predict or a noun for one who predicts the future. Things do not augur well if you see Vinnie approaching with an auger in his hand.

Blatant/flagrant. The first is used to denote something that is obvious or glaring. The second denotes something that is reprehensible and shocking. Telling Vinnie that you will have the money next week is a blatant lie. Taking the money out of your children’s college fund to repay Vinnie is a flagrant act.

Breach/breech. A breach is a gap, hole, or break, while breech refers to the rear or lower portion of something. Henry V charged once more into the breach. A breech birth is a baby delivered feet first. Vinnie owed him a few swift kicks in the breeches for breaching the loan agreement.

Capital/capitol. A capitol is a building where a legislature gathers. Capital is used for all other senses. Vinnie made his first loan on the steps of the capitol in Trenton, the capital of New Jersey.

Climactic/climatic. The high point in a play or movie is climactic. A change in the weather patterns is climatic.

Compose/Comprise. These are opposites. Compose means to make up, to constitute. Comprise means to contain. The Five Families compose the New York Mob. The New York Mob comprises the Five Families. The phrase comprised of is always incorrect.

Continual/continuous. Continual means frequently recurring, intermittent. Continuous is uninterrupted, without let up. Vinnie stayed at the phones taking Superbowl bets continually for a week. Vinnie stayed at the phones taking Superbowl bets continuously until he had to go the bathroom.

Discreet/discrete. These are very often confused. Discreet means to be cautious, to do something without fanfare or publicity. Discrete means separate or distinct. Vinnie kept his loan sharking and bookmaking businesses discrete from one another. With all the cops and judges on the payroll, Vinnie did not need to be discreet, but he still was.

Flack/flak. A flack is a public relations executive. To flack is to engage in public relations. Flak is anti-aircraft fire, either real or figurative. Vinnie liked to be discreet, so Tony came in for a lot of flak when he started to flack the loan business.

Flounder/founder. Both are metaphorically used to mean failure, but the literal meanings, and the images they evoke, are different. Flounder means to flail about, like a fish out of water. Founder means to sink. Tony floundered about the track, losing bet after bet, as he foundered in a sea of debt.

Gantlet/gauntlet. A gantlet is a form of punishment where the victim runs down a line of people who beat him with blunt objects. A gauntlet is a glove. Many people ignore the difference and use gauntlet for both. But there are still some who make the distinction, so be careful when writing or saying running the gauntlet lest someone who still makes the distinction thinks less of you. Tony threw down the gauntlet, challenging Vinnie by refusing to pay back the loan. So, Vinnie made him run the gantlet.

Historic/historical. Something historic is famous or notable. Something historical pertains to the study of the past. Vinnie consulted the historical ledgers to see if this Superbowl’s take was historic in proportions.

Impracticable/Impractical. Doing something impractical is more trouble than it is worth. Something impracticable cannot be done at all. Vinnie quit the numbers business when he realized competing with the state lottery was impractical. Vinnie does not like to injure customers too badly because it is impracticable to collect from a seriously injured man.

Jerry-built/jury rigged. Something that is jerry-built is poorly made. Something that is jury-rigged is hastily repaired or made to work from ad hoc materials. Jerry-built is shoddy construction. Jury-rigged is an emergency and temporary measure. The jerry-built blackjack that Vinnie had bought on the cheap came apart on the first head he cracked. Vinnie jury-rigged a blackjack with two rolls of quarters and an old sock.

Lectern/podium. A lectern is a stand on which a speaker places his or her notes. A podium is a raised platform on which stand the speaker and the lectern.

Loath/loathe. If one is loath to do something, one does not want to. If one loathes something, then one does not like it. Loath is an adjective, to loathe a verb. Vinnie was loath to take bets on hockey, a sport he loathed.

Mantel/Mantle. A mantel is a shelf or structure above or around a fireplace. A mantle is cloak or robe and is frequently used metaphorically to mean a quality that is inherited or bestowed. Mantle is also a geologic term for the regolith or interior of a planet. Vinnie placed the Smith and Wesson on the mantel. Vinnie assumed the mantle of leadership when the old don died.

Naval/navel. Naval pertains to the navy, navel to the belly. The naval officer was slow to pay up, so Vinnie hit him in the navel to speed him along.

Oral/verbal. Oral refers to something that is spoken. Verbal refers to something expressed in words, either spoken or written. Vinnie preferred to give oral instructions, leaving no paper trail. The man ignored Vinnie’s verbal warnings; now it was time for Vinnie to demonstrate that he expected to be paid back.

Pail/pale. A pail is a bucket. Pale means ashen or lacking color. The man became pale when he realized what Vinnie was going to use pail for.

Presumptive/presumptuous. The first means expected. The second means to be impudent or bold. Vinnie is the presumptive heir to the don. To ask Vinnie for a decrease in the interest rate would be presumptuous.

Rack/wrack. Wrack is an archaic verb meaning to ruin or destroy. It is also a noun meaning the remnants after destruction. It is almost never used anymore except in the idiomatic phrase wrack and ruin. Rack is a verb meaning to put under strain, to torture. Vinnie had to rack his brain to think of a reason why he should not bring wrack and ruin upon the recalcitrant client.

Servicing/serving. To service means to install and maintain. To serve means to perform a useful task for someone. These are frequently confused in business writing. You often see servicing the customer when it should be serving the customer. Vinnie’s loan business served the entire tri-state area. Vinnie’s regular customers knew they had best keep up servicing their loans.