You’ll have read obituaries of Harold Evans, the great newspaper editor, in the past couple of days. You probably don’t want to read another one, so I won’t say much about his triumphs, his trailblazing investigative journalism, or the injustices he fought. Though I admire all of those things.
I will say that he was a man with a very small mind.
By that I mean that Evans had an eye for minutiae. All good journalists, and he was probably the best of the past century, are interested in words at an infinitesimal level. As I write, I have his book Do I Make Myself Clear? Why Writing Well Matters beside me. It fulminates against the use of words in insurance policies that don’t cover what you thought they covered; instructions that don’t instruct; the lunacy of a “hair management system” that turns out to be a swimming cap.
I didn’t work with Sir Harold. Frankly, I wasn’t a good enough journalist to move in his circles. But discussions of his gimlet-eyed approach to journalism made me think of the people I did learn from. Every one, in one form or another, was a stickler for detail. Adrian Arthur, former editor of The Courier, had the best grasp of journalistic law I’ve encountered. When he talked about court reporting, I listened.
Arliss Rhind was news editor of The Courier. He once sat me down and explained how, and in which terms, a tragedy like the Dunblane Massacre should be reported. He talked of the phrases used when grief is reported, the tone a headline strikes. Again, I paid rapt attention to a vastly experienced newspaper man.
I learned most, though, from former editor of The Evening Telegraph Alan Proctor.
Proc had newspaper ink in his veins. He would point out the difference between a murderer and a killer; housebreaking and burglary; when a pun was appropriate or inappropriate. These and ten thousand other things.
Proc made me think deeply about what words mean, and how I was using them. In fact, often when I write about the use of English I merely regurgitate his lessons.
This column exists to say what the best of journalists, like Harold Evans, have always said. That words and how they are used really matters. Every spelling; the placement of each comma and apostrophe; the precise meanings of words, idioms, and sentences.
The language we use is the root of everything we do.
Word of the week
Fulminate (verb)
Express vehement protest. EG: “I can still picture Proc’s verbal fireworks when he fulminated at incorrect spellings.”
Read the latest Oh my word! every Saturday in The Courier. Contact me at sfinan@dctmedia.co.uk
