While using my Android phone to dictate a comment to a Facebook post about Passover, I said “whole wheat matza.” The phone rendered it as “whole wheat monsters.” 

I thought that was hilarious until I tried it a second time and got “whole wheat matcha.” Then I was reminded of the many times that I have tried to use an expression rooted in the Jewish tradition and gotten extreme weirdness. Challah, the bread eaten on the Sabbath, became Holla or Color when I tried just now. I’ve gotten others in the past. Todah rabah (thank you in Hebrew) showed up today as tada rava and sometimes as something even stranger, while mazel tov (literally, good luck, but usually translated as congratulations) usually turns into muscle tough. 

But I also note that the same problem exists using phrases from other languages. If I say something in Spanish, for example, I usually have to retype it. Given how much Google knows about AI, I would expect that after more than a decade of Android use, it would anticipate some of my words correctly.

I wonder if any Jews or Latines work on the programming team—and how Google might correct for cultural bias in its dictation software.. 

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We all know how dangerous a drug overdose is. A particular drug maybe terrific in the right quantities for healing and illness, but too much can be fatal.

But did you know the same thing can be true for overused words?
I just read an email promoting a workshop with a product naming expert. The writer used the word “moniker” 9 times in a 372-word promo. For me, the first use (in the name of the workshop) was absolutely appropriate. The second felt like an interruption, and each subsequent use felt more intrusive, especially when the word appeared in four out of five consecutive bullets. Maybe this writer was trying to make a point by hammering us with this somewhat unusual word. But to me, the message was “I am so thrilled with this word that I’m going to just keep getting you over the head with it.” Well it wasn’t fatal, it was definitely an overdose. It lowered my respect for this writer and built up my resistance to the word.

I hope it doesn’t cause me to think less of the next writer who uses the word once, appropriately–because of the bad association this one writer created.
And the word is so specific that Thesaurus.com only lists eight synonyms, including equally odd ones like “appellation” and “sobriquet” along with some actually usable ones like “tag” and “label.” But “name” has 43 choices, with several others at “names” and “naming.”
In fairness, most of the words that turned up would not be the right word in this promo. If I’d written the piece, I might have relied heavily on the unobtrusive “name” and “product name,” with occasional sprinkles of “brand” and “label,” maybe even “tag” or”term.” Yeah, and I might use “moniker”–but only once. “Sobriquet” would not make it into my draft.
This was an extreme example because of the concentration in such a small space. But even if I am reading a book of several hundred pages, unusual words will annoy me if they are repeated too often. It is much better to use the common word, in this case name, or perhaps product name, than to make the reader feel like they are walking on sharp objects barefoot. You don’t want to bleed them to death, after all.
But don’t make the opposite mistake of using a different highly self-conscious word every time you need a synonym. That is almost as intrusive. Use words that flow naturally and sound like human speech.
So, when you are reading over your drafts, look for repetitions that call too much attention to themselves and not enough to what they are talking about. It takes 30 seconds with the thesaurus in your word processor or on the web to find good substitutes. And save the words that call attention to themselves for the times you really want to call attention to something in your text. Use those words with grace, power, and subtlety.

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Let’s finally bury the terms “wheelchair-bound” and “confined to a wheelchair”!

For someone whose legs don’t work or don’t work well, a wheelchair is a device of liberation, opening up many places s/he couldn’t reach otherwise. With the aid of a wheelchair, a person with walking disabilities can run errands, walk in the park, hold a job that might be otherwise unavailable…

Language, too, can be liberating, instead of restricting. How about “uses a wheelchair” or “is in a wheelchair”? The way we frame things influences how we and others perceive them—that’s the secret of marketing, of politics, of education, and of changing the world. Let’s market the idea that people with disabilities can be strong, healthy, active participants in society, not bound to the furniture.

And while we’re at it, let’s do a better job of making more things accessible to people who use wheelchairs. That means more curb cuts, wider doorways, and wider bathrooms. It means rethinking transportation of people with disabilities,

Kangaroo electric wheelchair car—One way to rethink transportation for wheelchair users
One way to rethink transportation for wheelchair users

changing the ways we wait in lines, and of course, how we design wheelchairs. It means thinking about the field of vision of someone whose head is several feet lower than a standing male adult.

And also it means being much more accurate in our descriptions of just about everything. Example: If you run a restaurant and the bathroom is a 24-inch-wide sliver of space on the main floor with barely enough room for a standing human to turn around—or worse, down a steep flight of steps and a narrow hallway in the basement—don’t describe your restaurant as wheelchair-accessible, even if the front door is barrier-free.

Fix things so your place of business really IS accessible. As Boomers age and our bodies get less reliable, this makes good business sense, because more of your customers will continue to be able to visit your business.

Note: I am able-bodied. I wrote this in response to seeing a “wheelchair-bound” comment from a marketing friend in his late 50s. My views on this have been shaped by:

  1. My experience in my early 20s as a paid organizer for an elder’s rights organization
  2. Seeing the incredible things that people with disabilities have been able to accomplish when society accepts them as people who can contribute and doesn’t treat them as a burden—and noticing how much more that was in evidence after physical barriers began, slowly, to be eliminated once  the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 took effect.
  3. Hosting a meeting and discovering that someone who wanted to attend couldn’t come because I lived at the time in a second-floor walk-up
  4. 6 years in my 30s and 40s as an official city-appointed member of the Northampton, Massachusetts Commission on Disability, dealing with such issues as how local theaters could provide access to people with mobility impairments

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Peace, in many languages
Peace, in many languages

I do not use “killing it” or “crushing it” to mean “successful.” Successful does not have to be about dominance and submission, winners and losers. I believe in an abundant, win-win world where we have the power to turn hunger and poverty into sufficiency, war into peace, and catastrophic climate change into planetary balance—while making a nice profit. The words we choose help determine where we (individually and as a society) are going, and how we get there.

In fact, I set up a whole new website, https://goingbeyondsustainability.com, to bring this message home. Somehow, I don’t think it would have the right tone if I had called this website “killingitforsustainability.com”.

Language matters. A lot. I just told a client yesterday to remove the word “dumb” from her vocabulary; she’s building a brand around smart, sexy, socially conscious blondes, and the “dumb blonde” stereotype is the exact opposite of that.

I don’t use the term, “senior moment.” I see elders as more often wise than confused. I’m 58 and I expect to be doing good work for the rest of my life, whether that turns out to be another 50 years, or whether my time turns out to be much more limited. I avoid gender-specific language; it’s almost always possible to find a gender-inclusive way to say something. “Firefighter” rather than “fireman,” “chair” (or the more cumbersome “chairperson”) instead of “chairman.” Since “s/he” or “co” or any other quick substitute for “he or she” hasn’t become common language, I do say “he or she” or “his and her.” Even though it’s clunky, it is less clunky to my eyes and ears than switching gender every paragraph.

Yes, I know that the word “niggardly” (meaning stingy) has nothing to do entomologically with a certain slur-word directed at black people. The root is different. But because the sounds of the words are so close, I would never use it. I don’t want to reinforce any association with the n-word. I’m also careful about words like “savages” or “primitive” or “cripple.” And I even avoid “sucks,” which was introduced as a slur against gay men. So many words are so loaded up with negative baggage that it’s a whole lot easier just not to use them.

Marketers should pay attention, too. Chevrolet made a huge mistake decades ago when it tried to introduce its popular Nova line into Latin America. Nobody bothered to check what that name meant locally. Oddly enough, it turned out that the locals weren’t exactly breaking down the doors to buy a car whose name is Spanish for “it doesn’t go.”

There is one military metaphor that doesn’t bother me at all, however. I use the word “target” to describe a tightly defined market niche. I like the precision of that. And because I’m a Guerrilla Marketing co-author, I use the phrase “guerrilla marketing.” But if I had been naming the brand, I’d have chosen something less grounded in war (and maybe easier to spell).Facebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail

mosque-sunset-jeddahStaying in the Embassy Suites in Kissimmee, Florida. Inside the usual Guest Services manual, I found this remarkable document (spacing and centering in original):

To Our Guests

In ancient times there was a prayer for

“The Stranger within our gates”
Because this hotel is a human institution to serve people, and not solely a money making organization, we hope that God will grant you peace and rest while you are under our roof.
May this room ad hotel be your “second” home.
May those you love be near you in thoughts and dreams.
Even though we may not et to know you, we hope that you will be comfortable and happy as if you were in your own home.

May the business that brought you our way prosper.
May every call you make and every message you receive add to your joy.
When you leave, may your journey be safe.

We are all travelers. From “birth till death” we travel between the eternities.
May these days be pleasant to you, profitable for society, helpful for those you meet, and a joy to those who know and love you best.

Wow!

As both a frequent traveler and a professional marketer who focuses a lot on values-based businesses—green and ethical ones, specifically—I invite you to walk with me as I analyze this document a bit.

  1. This says to me: here’s a business willing to take a risk and say what they stand for. They’re willing to alienate the militant atheists and say that God is important not only to them personally, but also to the way they run their business.
  2. They did it in a way that was very inclusive. Most of the time, when I come across religious messages in the US heartland, they tend to be specifically Christian. I’m a non-Christian who was raised an Orthodox Jew until age 10. I consider myself fairly spiritual but not very religious. I’m often turned off by religious messages that assume my Christianity (or, for that matter, assume I’m Muslim, Buddhist, Jewish, whatever). There was nothing in this message embracing any particular religious tradition. If you accept the idea of God (and not everyone does, of course), there’s only welcome here, not exclusion.
  3. The content of the message is wonderfully positive. It’s about peace, prosperity, safe travels, and joy. How could I not feel better about a business that takes the time to draft a document conveying these various blessings in my direction?
  4. Never be your own editor. OK, not many people are such grammar nuts that they’ll notice the language flaws—but what if they host a convention of English teachers? I’m actually here with a conference of people who teach business communication, and I’m betting a high percentage of those attenders who saw the message will pick it apart for its sloppy writing. It’s so easy to avoid the problem in the first place.
  5. Most importantly, being greeted by this message sets a tone for all my interactions with the hotel. I’m going in to any conversation with the attitude that they care about me. This perception is reinforced by the very helpful nature of every staffer I’ve dealt with so far (even before I opened the services notebook and saw the memo)—and would, of course, be destroyed if their personnel were rude, etc. But it certainly creates a good flow of positive energy.

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Reading a newsletter from a marketer I generally find thought-provoking, sincere, and personable, I was rather surprised to read an article where she took one of her subscribers to task for objecting to the word “sucks” on her home page.

To me, that word inserts an unnecessary barrier, the more ironic because she bases her whole approach on connecting person-to-person.

So of course, I wrote her a note:

As some one who does my best to–and *usually* succeeds–find the best even in the grumps (in that way, I’m like your late father, I guess)–may I put another possible interpretation out there? It’s likely that this person was just looking for an excuse to act out–BUT it’s also possible that he had good reason to be offended by the S word. I personally don’t use that word, because it can be can be interpreted as homophobic–being derived from a longer expletive that starts with a c, the first four letters of which represent the male organ (I’m not being a prude here by not stating the word, but I do have a goal of avoiding the spamfilters). For the same reasons, I don’t use the word “niggardly”, even though its etymology has nothing to do with the n-word–I don’t want people who don’t know that etymology to think I’m racist.

And there’s a difference between “plain language” and foul language. I grew up on the tough streets of the Bronx, and it was a minefield of F-bombs and other expletives–but I’ve lived in places where cursing is considered not just extremely rude but an offense against religion. So, take your choice–the left -wing or right-wing possibility of why he was teed off.

I don’t remember how I found your list, but I suspect I would not have subscribed if the first thing I’d seen was “disconnection sucks”. I have a thicker skin than to be offended, but there are always better ways to say it, and I would not have wanted to get into the network of someone whose language could have been interpreted as mean and deliberately offensive, because I surround myself with people who empower others and don’t denigrate them.

Luckily, I found you some other way (I have no idea how our paths crossed, actually)–and I know you to be a caring and empowering person. But think about the message you’re putting out here, intentionally or not. This is not so much a question of political correctness as it is of establishing unnecessary barriers. yes, I understand that you want to drive the wrong people away, and I respect that. I do the same thing. For instance, when someone approaches me about working together, there’s a paragraph in my reply that says,

“Please note that I reserve the right to reject a project if I feel I’m not the right person for it. This would include projects that in my opinion promote racism, homophobia, bigotry or violence–or that promote the tobacco, nuclear power, or weapons industries–or if I do not feel the product is of high enough quality that I can get enthusiastic about it.”

But I wonder if what your doing might drive the RIGHT people away too–especially since to me, it is so out-of-harmony with your real core message of marketing through the power of personal story.

I’ll be very curious to receive her response. And meanwhile, how about a response from you? Are curse words a barrier for you? Am I overreacting? Is she unnecessarily defensive? Why, or why not?Facebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail

My local paper, the Daily Hampshire Gazette of Northampton, Massachusetts, ran an AP  story about the foundering Mitt Romney campaign under the headline,”Slipping in polls, Romney tries to seem caring.” (The link may not work if you’re not a subscriber, but here’s a link to the same story with a slightly different headline, on the AP website.)

Two things I’d like to explore about this, and not what you think. I’m really not going to discuss the content of Mitt Romney’s campaign at the moment, though I could certainly “take him to the woodshed” about a lot of his messaging (I might do that next time). Today, I want to look at the linguistics of this headline: specifically, the use of “tries” and  “seems.” I’ll use comedian Stephen Colbert’s framework of “truthiness” as a lens.

Trying is different from doing. It’s one of those words I’m working hard (notice I didn’t say “trying”) to excise from my vocabulary, and from the materials I create for my marketing clients. Trying, rather than doing, predisposes toward failure: “well, I tried.”

Language influences us in ways we’re only just starting to imagine. If your language includes a dozen words for cooperative problem solving, but none for war, how does that shape foreign policy?

In Spanish, there are two distinct verbs that translate into English as “to be”/”is”: Ser (to be in a permanent state) and estar (to be in a temporary condition or location). If you’re describing a permanent condition, you use ser. Examples: “I am a mother” or “I am a father” or “the mountain exists.” Gender takes ser, because until recent decades, that was seen as permanent.

Estar is for conditions that could change: “I feel tired” [right now]; “I am at the cafe”; “the food is on the table”; “she’s pregnant.”

Oddly enough, your profession, even though it could change, takes ser: “soy escritor”—”I am a writer.” What does it say about the class ladder of a society that sees a job title as permanent?

In English, we don’t have the ser/estar distinction.  Thus, I chose to write above, “I feel tired” because I don’t want to ascribe permanence to that kind of negative thought—even as an example in a blog post and not as a statement of reality—by using “I am.”

So, that the writer perceives that Romney is only trying, and not accomplishing, is very telling.

And then there’s the other trigger word in that headline, “seems.” Which brings us to Stephen Colbert’s elegant concept of “truthiness”—stating something that you wish were  true as if it’s fact  (something many senior George W. Bush administration officials as well as quite a few pundits—especially but not always on Fox News).

Romney’s attempt to “seem caring” is a great example of truthiness; the real Romney, behind closed doors, wrote off 47 percent of the American public.

Of course, in fairness, it wasn’t the Romney campaign that said he’s trying to seem caring; it wasn’t even the Associated Press, whose headline was “Slipping in polls, Romney assures voters ‘I care.'” The “tries” was inserted by a headline writer at the Gazette. But I think that person actually nailed a few central problems with the Romney campaign. He appears incredibly clueless in his interactions with ordinary people…he can’t decide where he stands on many issues, or on his past accomplishments…and these two together combine to present an image and aura of inauthenticity. Someone who “seems” to go for “truthiness,” rather than a man willing to stand on the facts of his record or his positions.

(For more on the life choices that stem from your word choices, I strongly recommend this interview with Donna Fisher, which is available without charge through the end of the week, and then will go behind a firewall. I have no affiliation with Donna or that teleseminar series—but I have listened to it four times, and it’s very rare that I listen to a call more than once. The relevant section starts about 13 minutes in.)Facebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail

Call me old-fashioned, but I reject the transition of “pimp” form a negative noun–a man who rents out the bodies of women he controls (and a verb to describe that action)–to a positive verb, to make something look classy and flashy by adding gizmos and gewgaws and bling.

I don’t like it. Pimping is not a “virtue” I choose to support. I’m a wordsmith for a living–so let me propose some alternatives. We’ve got great nouns like swank or swanky, chic, glitzy, snazzy–can we turn them into verbs?
Swankify? (awkward-sounding). Chicken? (um, no, that’s taken). Snazz (I like that!). Sparkle? (already a verb, sure, why not). Glitter? Glisten? (ditto)

Let’s use our rich, rich language and banish “pimp” as a “good” verb. It’ll take some work. The phrase “pimp my” brings 10,900,000 search results, and I’m guessing almost all of them from the last two years. I’m not a language purist, believe me, but let’s put this one back in the bottle.Facebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail