Dear Caroline, Jack (Mister Tomato), and Rusty,
First, let me say I truly appreciate the time each of you has evidently taken in writing out such a detailed and thought-provoking response to my article. I quite enjoyed reading and thinking about each of your replies.
Second, I wish to make the following two preliminary points. One, I don’t see myself as, nor do I (intentionally) claim to be, any sort of expert in grammar or in language more generally. I’m merely somebody with a strong passion for writing and editing who enjoys trying to help others refine their craft. Two, and partly as a corollary of one, it’s entirely possible, if not probable, that I’m mistaken in one or more of the claims I’ve made in this article. I don’t insist that what I’ve written is definitively correct above and beyond all other opinions. As always, I remain open to improving my understanding and use of the English language.
Third, and for what it’s worth, I’m not at all surprised by the fact that the section on collective nouns has produced the most vigorous reaction and discussion. I had expected this sort of response, and I’m grateful for it: being challenged on our ideas is, ultimately, the only way to learn whether, and if so then how, we should defend or alter them.
It seems to me that there are (at least) two crucial issues here. The first is the debate regarding the question of whether, and if so then to what extent, language — or, perhaps more accurately, the use of language — evolves over time. The second is the controversy concerning the question of when, if ever, it’s appropriate to use plural forms of collective nouns instead of their singular forms. Although these two issues can be kept separate, they tend to ‘bleed into’ each other, as is evidenced by each of your replies.
In my opinion, the most important question to be asked is, “Can we objectively set out or invoke one or more technical rules or reasons that definitively determine whether a plural or singular form of a collective noun should be used?” As far as I see it, this is a qualitatively different question from the question of whether language is or should be based entirely on how some, even a majority of, people do in fact use it. In short, I’m not convinced that the ‘rules of grammar’ are or should be determined merely by the ways in which many, even most, people write, speak, or otherwise communicate. The ‘violence’ of the masses ought not be that which delineates between correct and incorrect interpretations. Does the fact that so many people (mis)use ‘literally’ instead of ‘figuratively’ indicate that these two words now mean the same thing in one or more contexts? I don’t believe that it does — regardless of how common the misuse is.
Ultimately, I see this entire debate more as a matter of opinion than of fact. Do you believe that there are objectively true and false rules that govern how words must be used in order for their use to be correct? If so, you’re likely a ‘purist’. Alternatively, do you believe that rules of grammar, syntax, spelling and the like are a matter of convention, i.e., are a reflection of the ways in which most people use words most of the time at a given point in history? If so, you’re likely an ‘evolutionist’ (or a ‘conventionalist’). The purist asks, “If everything is simply convention, where do we draw the line? Should we define every aspect of language merely by what’s currently in fashion? Where’s the consistency or predictability in that?” Conversely, the evolutionist asks, “What is language for, if not for effective communication, for the successful expression of ideas, for the development of understanding between people? What point is there on insisting on a, b, and c if, in fact, the majority of people recognize, use, and prefer d, e, and f?”
The matter of one’s intended audience is crucial, in my opinion. Fragments like, “the data is…”, “the data shows…”, and “the data demonstrates…” offend the ears/eyes of (many) academics, of which I am one, just as much as the fragments, “the data are…”, “the data show…”, and “the data demonstrate…” offend the ears/eyes of (many) non-academics. Indeed, my listening or reading experience is ‘interrupted’ and ‘frustrated’ whenever I hear or read, “the media is…” or “the data is…” For others, these phrases are received as completely unproblematic. For whom are you writing, and what are your readers’ expectations? This is what, I believe, we should ask ourselves in order to determine the particular style, tone, and vocabulary with which we should write.
I’m a philosopher, somebody who loves abstract ideas, complex concepts, and the operations of logic, long before I’m a blogger or ‘Internet writer’. I usually don’t write, at least not intentionally, for the casual blogger or for those who care little about how the written language ‘works’. To be clear, I’m not making any normative judgments here at all. I’m simply saying that the articles that I write specifically on the mechanics of writing are not meant to resonate with folks who believe that the sole purpose of a piece of content is to communicate one or more ideas as efficiently and directly as possible. That’s not my intended audience — at least not most of the time. I write about numerous topics online, from business and entrepreneurship to productivity and self-improvement. My articles on writing, though, are typically on writing qua writing, not writing qua marketing, writing qua sales, etc.
There’s no question that language evolves, that meaning can change over time, and that certain conventions can and do become dominant at specific points in history whilst others recede into the background, so to speak. Ultimately, I care less about whether I’m right or wrong with respect to singular versus plural forms of collective nouns than do I about whether people who read articles like this one are led to put some serious thought into the issues being discussed. The detail and thoughtfulness of all three of your responses suggests that I’ve succeeded in this case, which leaves me feeling quite appreciative and grateful. Cheers friends!
