This is a question that’s been bothering me for some time. Not a day goes by when it’s not glaringly obvious that people just aren’t comfortable with “me”. Why are so many people avoiding “me”? I wanted to know.
Me, Myself, and I
Pronouns are lovely little devices, easily replacing nouns that could be long and cumbersome to repeat with short little generic replacement words. The first person pronoun refers to the speaker and takes on the nominative form (“I”), the objective form (“me”), the possessive form (“my” or “mine”), and the reflexive form (“myself”). For some reason, many people object to the objective form.
First, I’d like to present a brief refresher on which is which: The nominative pronoun is the actor. “I read a book.” “I fed the cat.” The objective pronoun is on the receiving end of an action. “She saw me.” “Grandmom gave me an apple.” The possessive pronoun, well, possesses stuff. “The money is mine.” “It’s my life!” And the reflexive pronoun is in the objective position but always refers back to the subject. “I really embarrassed myself.” “I gave myself a treat.”
It’s All About Me
People seem to do just about anything to avoid the using “me” as the object of a sentence. The substitutions seem to vary based on whether the object is part of a coordination (two or more objects are linked by “and”) or stands alone. “Myself” often substitutes for “me” in both coordinate objects AND alone.
Just the other night, I was watching a DVD of the old Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour from the mid-sixties. Every time Tom Smothers spoke about himself and his brother, he would say “my brother and myself.” (My Microsoft Word spell-check just put a squiggly line under “myself” to let me know it’s wrong.) I see the coordinate of another person (“Charlie and myself”) occasionally in business communications, as well. However, I am more likely to see it all by its lonesome in business communications. “Send the information to myself as soon as possible.”
Why is this wrong? It’s wrong because a reflexive pronoun is supposed to refer back to the subject. In the example “Send the information to myself as soon as possible”, the inferred subject (the action taker) is “you.” The reflexive pronoun for “you” is “yourself.” The subject for the reflexive pronoun “myself” is “I.” But many U.S. English speakers have turned “myself” into an objective pronoun…and, at times, a nominative pronoun.
In business communications, I am more likely to see “I” in coordination with another noun (or pronoun). “Tell her and I if we should attend the meeting.” “Refer the customer to either Nancy or I.” In this case, the nominative form of the first person replaces the objective form. You would not say “Refer the customer to I.” Or “Tell I if we should attend the meeting.” For most of us, this would never sound right.
Makes me cringe!
To me, the only correct word to use in any of the above cases is the short and simple “me.”
Finding Me
I went looking for answers as to why this is so common. Did I find them? No. There’s a good bit of conjecture, though. Most commenters on the Internet (both professionals and Facebook fans of a certain grammar page) seem to believe, and I tend to agree, that a lot of people think “me” is too direct and even vulgar. “I” and “myself” seem proper and formal. That’s why people think nothing of saying “It’s me!” – when “It’s I!” is actually the “correct” form – but have difficulty saying “When you have completed the report, give it to your manager and me.” It’s hard to know for sure, however. Who is willing to approach friends, co-workers, or strangers and ask “Why are you using incorrect grammar?”
On my search I did discover that this whole issue is actually very sensitive and wrought with controversy. Who knew? I thought it was pretty straightforward: grammar rules are grammar rules and that’s that. Boy, was I wrong!
They’re Fighting Over Me
There are two camps in the grammar world: prescriptive grammarians and descriptive grammarians.
Prescriptive grammarians prescribe to a certain set of grammar rules that are inflexible. Failure to follow the rules results in grammatical errors and some strong “tsk, tsks.” According to Bradford R. Connatser in his article “Reconsidering Some Prescriptive Rules of Grammar and Composition” (Technical Communications – Volume 51, Number 2, May 2004, pages 264-275), many of these rules were imposed by 18th and 19th grammarians who were trained in classical Latin; these grammarians were attempting to apply the rules of Latin grammar to English.
Prescriptive grammarians, typically linguists, claim these rules may be attempts to fit square pegs into round holes. Rodney Huddleston and Geoffrey K. Pullum in their book “The Cambridge Grammar of the English Language” (2002 – Cambridge University Press) argue that these rules are arbitrary and a matter of the writer’s preferences and prejudices. They claim that the grammar in use by the majority of people, not the prescribed 18th and 19th century “Latinization” of our language, is the most relevant grammar. Specifically, in the case of using “I” instead of “me”, the authors challenge the logic behind saying “if the object is ‘me’ when the object is alone, then the object must be ‘me’ when the object is not alone.” They say that the coordination might change the object so the pronoun is different. They present the case where you would say “I don’t know if you’re eligible” but you would not say “I don’t know if she and you’re eligible.” The logic of what’s good for the single pronoun is good for the pronoun in a coordination of pronouns doesn’t work here.
Connatser calls this grammar that people use in their everyday speech and, often, writing “organic grammar.” It’s the grammar we internalized as we learned how to speak. He believes it’s “hard-wired.” And it informs how we read. If what’s written on the paper or screen conflicts in form with the organic grammar in our heads, it triggers warning bells that there is something wrong with the text.
Tell Me What to Do!
The practical dilemma for any writer, particularly any non-fiction writer, is to decide what to do. Do you use prescriptive grammar that might be out of step with how your reader talks and processes her language? Or do you use the organic language of your reader so that he feels comfortable with the content?
Connatser points out that errors in text can be distracting and impact the credibility of your content. I’ve personally experienced this many times. As I see more and more errors in a text – grammatical, spelling, or even formatting – I tend to discount the author as sloppy, ill-prepared, and potentially uninformed. I am likely to question the accuracy of the content. He suggests knowing your audience and using grammar rules (whether prescriptive or organic) that will make the reading experience comfortable and easy to process for that audience. If your audience includes people with varying levels of education and inclination toward prescriptive grammar, this is a real challenge.
Personally, I will stick to the prescriptive rules for the first person pronouns “I”, “me”, and “myself.” Dangling participles and split infinitives? Well, that’s another story.
Showing posts with label Editing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Editing. Show all posts
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Monday, December 1, 2008
Work with Me!
There are a few things I need to disclose about myself before continuing:
How Many Design Students Does It Take to Make a Wiki?
I alluded to this a few entries ago - October 29th to be exact. The whole idea of the democratization of knowledge and "expertise" bothers me a bit. I wonder what impact it will have on our culture. Aside from the possibility that it could provide a new spin on the "how many - insert here -does it take to replace a light bulb?" jokes. Had I been better prepared, I would have sought out articles on this. (The articles on the possible effects, not the jokes.) I'm sure they're there. But I think I'd rather rely here on my own recent experiences with this relatively new phenomenon.
Last month I worked on two projects simultaneously that involved wikis. For one, I was given the task of entering the world of Wikipedia - probably the most popular wiki - to either edit or create an entry. The other project involved working with fellow design students on creating a wiki on the elements of design.
Little Fish in a Big Sea
Entering Wikipedia was a bit intimidating. First, there appear to be all of these rules about style, content, format. Unfortunately, I found their "help" pages extremely difficult to use and confusing. (I needed a book but didn't discover until later that one was available.) Once I got past that, determining what to edit or add was a very daunting process. There are I don't know how many entries on Wikipedia and I don't really feel I qualify as an expert on anything in particular. After a lot of deliberation and failed attempts to find a topic I could add value to, I chose to add a new entry - one on "pediatric spaying and neutering" of puppies and kittens(spay/neuter is performed on puppies and kittens as young as 6 weeks old and up to the standard age of 4 to 6 months old). Of course, a new entry appealed to the INTP in me!
Okay. I am not a vet nor do I play one on TV. However, I do have some knowledge and experience that your average animal lover does not. I served as the vice president of a non-profit animal shelter in South Jersey for 6 years in the 90s. That shelter has a spay/neuter clinic. And, as it happens, they were testing out "early" spay/neuter in the clinic when I was on their board. When it came to instituting a policy regarding this practice, I felt it was my responsibility to understand the pros and cons before voting on it and did some research - mostly reading the little bit of scientific literature that was available and talking to the clinic manager. Over the years since then, it's a topic I've followed with interest. As luck might have it, pediatric spay/neuter was not addressed on Wikipedia.
In preparation, I spent many hours researching the topic and seeking out balanced articles supported by reputable studies. I wrote the article, struggled through the cumbersome posting process, and, voila, "published" an article on Wikipedia. It was no easy feat. And, in all honesty, I felt very much like an impostor doing it. Who was I, a person who was not especially good at biology and who was not a veterinarian, to post this kind of material for all of the world to read? I was careful with my research but...was I the appropriate person to do this?
Well, my concerns about the legitimacy of my claims to expertise all vanished the next day when, to my shock and dismay, my page had vanished. It seems that one of the self-imposed editors (or maybe an officially appointed monitor - who knows since it all appears to be anonymous) had "redirected" my article to one simply titled "Neutering". The result of "redirecting" is that the content disappears from public view. I had seen this other article. It was, I thought, long and included information beyond the dog and cat topic of my interest. It seemed to me to be a disservice to both the information already there and the information I intended to provide to combine them on one entry. Apparently, the anonymous "redundancy police" did not take the time to review both posts to see how the new post had distinct information. Had they read it, they might have just moved it to the "Neutering" entry.
I panicked. Not only had I put a lot of time into this project, I had a grade for a class riding on the fact that I actually did something. Plus, I felt by this point that I did have something important to say. Through some trial and error (again, the instructions were not particularly helpful to me), I discovered that I could undo the "redirect" - so I did. And I added a comment imploring the would be "editors" to allow the entry to remain and pointed out the distinctions in the content. To my relief, the posting is still there. You can view it at: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pediatric_spaying. I'm hoping that on my winter break from school I can return to complete the information requested by the "style police".
While this dispute was resolved civilly, I'm not sure all are. That's inferred in some of the guidelines about resolving disagreements. Rules seem to be applied inconsistently. For instance, one classmate posted an informational piece about his real estate business. It was deleted as a purely "commercial" post. But another person in class modified a post about an AT&T or Motorola product that, to me, appeared to be blatantly commercial.
Like political democracy, it appears that informational democracy can get messy. I wonder how very unpopular topics are handled. How far can you go...really? And who has the final say on what's a legitimate post and what is not? Is every piece fact-checked by someone? And is the fact-checker qualified to make the call?
In my classes, Wikipedia entries are often used to provide definitions or examples of terms. I'm certain my professors know a good, accurate post when they see one so I'm not questioning their judgement. But what about the person who is looking on her own and just searching for enlightenment? Since posts are anonymous, how do we know we're not buying snake oil when we use the entries? I get a queasy feeling about the possibility of students - particularly elementary and high school students - using the entries as sources for research papers. How can a user be certain he's not using the equivalent of an op-ed piece as a research source? Sure, anyone can post on the Internet. Just go to Google Sites and create a free web page. You can say whatever you want and present it as fact. In fact, that was an exercise in one class - to determine the legitimacy of information posted to appear as factual information. My concern is, though, that the organization and formality of Wikipedia implies a certain level of trustworthiness. It looks and feels institutionalized. Official.
I still can't get past the question of who is the final arbiter in this process. I worry about the tyranny of the majority. One of my favorite movie lines is from "Men in Black". Tommy Lee Jones' character says to Will Smith's character:
Let's Get Together
My other class took on a less visible but equally challenging project - creating a wiki in Wikispaces. Our task was to each take an element of design and create an original page to define and illustrate it. I found the Wikispaces tool much easier to use than Wikipedia. And knowing that some unknown person would not come along and delete everything was comforting. But I will say that it was challenging.
After posting our initial pages, our goal was for each of us to provide at least one edit to each of the other students' pages. Some of the pages were exceptional. It was difficult to find ways to improve the material. I felt I was being intrusive. On the other hand, some pages seemed to have incomplete or inaccurate information. They were easier to update. Some of the errors were not obvious. Had I not felt compelled to look further to outside sources (the INTP in me), I would not have known for sure. And at least one "enhancement" made after I was done my edits (and after the site was locked for grading) was, to my dismay, inaccurate. A sample of an analogous color scheme was used as an example of a complementary color scheme. In fact, after looking back at it, the complementary color chart seems to be incorrect as well!
Many great edits were made to my original page. I had a difficult topic with very little available information in the on-line tutorials and articles. "Format and Orientation". Not as sexy as "color" or "proportion". While I felt I made a good start, the class critiques were a little more...critical. This is where putting the ego aside is useful.
I do believe that the pages overall were improved by the collaborative efforts. The page I started is a good example. However, knowing the errors I found, I am leery of the accuracy of some of the material. Questions remain. Did the authors use good sources? Did they understand the information well enough to interpret it? That brings me back to the impostor complex I had with my Wikipedia experience. Do we know what we don't know? Are we fully aware of our lack of understanding of certain concepts or our misinterpretation of them? From some of the material, I don't think we do. It makes me wonder what I may have misstated on the Wikipedia entry. Or in the design entry for that matter.
As for who had the final say in what was correct on our project, it seems to have been the last person to edit a page. Is that a good way to approach a wiki or other collaborative effort in, say, a business environment? Or do you have one person with responsibility for ensuring accuracy, completeness, and compliance with standards?
Now What?
So, now that I've expressed my anxieties about these collaborative efforts, what do we do about it? Are these reasons to turn our backs on wikis? Do we censor those without credentials from talking like experts in a public forum that could be mistaken for a reputable source of information? Or do we, maybe, encourage the inclusion of disclaimers - more obvious, bold disclaimers - that the material is from "common folk - just like us"? Maybe we encourage revelation of the authors and their credentials - if they have any.
It could be argued that there's no real risk here. Anyone can write a book with inaccurate information. Publish a newsletter. Create a video. Write a memo. These items can provide misinformation, lies, half-truths. Sure they can. But it's a whole lot harder (costlier...more time consuming) to get those thing out and circulated. My little article or my class' wiki project could be seen by billions of people in an instant at no or little cost. There's a lot of power in that. And, as Spiderman learned, "With great power comes great responsibility."
- On the Myers-Briggs Personality Type inventory, I am an "INTP" with a very strong emphasis on the "I" which stands for "introverted". I didn't need a test to tell me that. My kindergarten teacher remarked on my report card "Yvonne likes to work on her own." Little has changed since then. This is not a popular thing to admit in a world where, both professionally and academically, collaboration and teamwork are highly valued. Don't get me wrong. I'm a team player and do "play" well with others. Only a few people would call me difficult (and they're mostly family). I can both follow direction and lead. But I'm just much more comfortable (and, admittedly, happier) when I can execute projects on my own.
- I love democracy and, in particular, the First Amendment to the Constitution. I abhor censorship. In fact, back in the early 90s I had a second job in a bookstore. The very socially conservative store manager refused to display some particularly controversial titles ("American Psycho" by Bret Easton Ellis and Madonna's racy pictorial essay) even though corporate sent them to us in our weekly shipment. We were under direction to keep them behind the counter and decline to sell them. Despite my personal feelings about the merits of the novel's story or Madonna's artistic integrity, I risked being fired and sold the books. A little stand in the big scheme of things but a stand none-the-less.
- I do not believe that it takes a degree or formal education to be knowledgeable or to read and interpret scientific or academic material. In fact, I know plenty of people with lots of schooling who I feel know or understand very little and vice versa.
How Many Design Students Does It Take to Make a Wiki?
I alluded to this a few entries ago - October 29th to be exact. The whole idea of the democratization of knowledge and "expertise" bothers me a bit. I wonder what impact it will have on our culture. Aside from the possibility that it could provide a new spin on the "how many - insert here -
Last month I worked on two projects simultaneously that involved wikis. For one, I was given the task of entering the world of Wikipedia - probably the most popular wiki - to either edit or create an entry. The other project involved working with fellow design students on creating a wiki on the elements of design.
Little Fish in a Big Sea
Entering Wikipedia was a bit intimidating. First, there appear to be all of these rules about style, content, format. Unfortunately, I found their "help" pages extremely difficult to use and confusing. (I needed a book but didn't discover until later that one was available.) Once I got past that, determining what to edit or add was a very daunting process. There are I don't know how many entries on Wikipedia and I don't really feel I qualify as an expert on anything in particular. After a lot of deliberation and failed attempts to find a topic I could add value to, I chose to add a new entry - one on "pediatric spaying and neutering" of puppies and kittens(spay/neuter is performed on puppies and kittens as young as 6 weeks old and up to the standard age of 4 to 6 months old). Of course, a new entry appealed to the INTP in me!
Okay. I am not a vet nor do I play one on TV. However, I do have some knowledge and experience that your average animal lover does not. I served as the vice president of a non-profit animal shelter in South Jersey for 6 years in the 90s. That shelter has a spay/neuter clinic. And, as it happens, they were testing out "early" spay/neuter in the clinic when I was on their board. When it came to instituting a policy regarding this practice, I felt it was my responsibility to understand the pros and cons before voting on it and did some research - mostly reading the little bit of scientific literature that was available and talking to the clinic manager. Over the years since then, it's a topic I've followed with interest. As luck might have it, pediatric spay/neuter was not addressed on Wikipedia.
In preparation, I spent many hours researching the topic and seeking out balanced articles supported by reputable studies. I wrote the article, struggled through the cumbersome posting process, and, voila, "published" an article on Wikipedia. It was no easy feat. And, in all honesty, I felt very much like an impostor doing it. Who was I, a person who was not especially good at biology and who was not a veterinarian, to post this kind of material for all of the world to read? I was careful with my research but...was I the appropriate person to do this?
Well, my concerns about the legitimacy of my claims to expertise all vanished the next day when, to my shock and dismay, my page had vanished. It seems that one of the self-imposed editors (or maybe an officially appointed monitor - who knows since it all appears to be anonymous) had "redirected" my article to one simply titled "Neutering". The result of "redirecting" is that the content disappears from public view. I had seen this other article. It was, I thought, long and included information beyond the dog and cat topic of my interest. It seemed to me to be a disservice to both the information already there and the information I intended to provide to combine them on one entry. Apparently, the anonymous "redundancy police" did not take the time to review both posts to see how the new post had distinct information. Had they read it, they might have just moved it to the "Neutering" entry.
I panicked. Not only had I put a lot of time into this project, I had a grade for a class riding on the fact that I actually did something. Plus, I felt by this point that I did have something important to say. Through some trial and error (again, the instructions were not particularly helpful to me), I discovered that I could undo the "redirect" - so I did. And I added a comment imploring the would be "editors" to allow the entry to remain and pointed out the distinctions in the content. To my relief, the posting is still there. You can view it at: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pediatric_spaying. I'm hoping that on my winter break from school I can return to complete the information requested by the "style police".
While this dispute was resolved civilly, I'm not sure all are. That's inferred in some of the guidelines about resolving disagreements. Rules seem to be applied inconsistently. For instance, one classmate posted an informational piece about his real estate business. It was deleted as a purely "commercial" post. But another person in class modified a post about an AT&T or Motorola product that, to me, appeared to be blatantly commercial.
Like political democracy, it appears that informational democracy can get messy. I wonder how very unpopular topics are handled. How far can you go...really? And who has the final say on what's a legitimate post and what is not? Is every piece fact-checked by someone? And is the fact-checker qualified to make the call?
In my classes, Wikipedia entries are often used to provide definitions or examples of terms. I'm certain my professors know a good, accurate post when they see one so I'm not questioning their judgement. But what about the person who is looking on her own and just searching for enlightenment? Since posts are anonymous, how do we know we're not buying snake oil when we use the entries? I get a queasy feeling about the possibility of students - particularly elementary and high school students - using the entries as sources for research papers. How can a user be certain he's not using the equivalent of an op-ed piece as a research source? Sure, anyone can post on the Internet. Just go to Google Sites and create a free web page. You can say whatever you want and present it as fact. In fact, that was an exercise in one class - to determine the legitimacy of information posted to appear as factual information. My concern is, though, that the organization and formality of Wikipedia implies a certain level of trustworthiness. It looks and feels institutionalized. Official.
I still can't get past the question of who is the final arbiter in this process. I worry about the tyranny of the majority. One of my favorite movie lines is from "Men in Black". Tommy Lee Jones' character says to Will Smith's character:
1500 years ago, everybody knew that the Earth was the center of the universe. 500 years ago, everybody knew that the Earth was flat. And 15 minutes ago, you knew that humans were alone on this planet. Imagine what you'll know tomorrow.Those new ideas are often squelched when they are unpopular. How many unique ideas have been or will be deleted from Wikipedia because the majority feel they're unsupported or inaccurate?
Let's Get Together
My other class took on a less visible but equally challenging project - creating a wiki in Wikispaces. Our task was to each take an element of design and create an original page to define and illustrate it. I found the Wikispaces tool much easier to use than Wikipedia. And knowing that some unknown person would not come along and delete everything was comforting. But I will say that it was challenging.
After posting our initial pages, our goal was for each of us to provide at least one edit to each of the other students' pages. Some of the pages were exceptional. It was difficult to find ways to improve the material. I felt I was being intrusive. On the other hand, some pages seemed to have incomplete or inaccurate information. They were easier to update. Some of the errors were not obvious. Had I not felt compelled to look further to outside sources (the INTP in me), I would not have known for sure. And at least one "enhancement" made after I was done my edits (and after the site was locked for grading) was, to my dismay, inaccurate. A sample of an analogous color scheme was used as an example of a complementary color scheme. In fact, after looking back at it, the complementary color chart seems to be incorrect as well!
Many great edits were made to my original page. I had a difficult topic with very little available information in the on-line tutorials and articles. "Format and Orientation". Not as sexy as "color" or "proportion". While I felt I made a good start, the class critiques were a little more...critical. This is where putting the ego aside is useful.
I do believe that the pages overall were improved by the collaborative efforts. The page I started is a good example. However, knowing the errors I found, I am leery of the accuracy of some of the material. Questions remain. Did the authors use good sources? Did they understand the information well enough to interpret it? That brings me back to the impostor complex I had with my Wikipedia experience. Do we know what we don't know? Are we fully aware of our lack of understanding of certain concepts or our misinterpretation of them? From some of the material, I don't think we do. It makes me wonder what I may have misstated on the Wikipedia entry. Or in the design entry for that matter.
As for who had the final say in what was correct on our project, it seems to have been the last person to edit a page. Is that a good way to approach a wiki or other collaborative effort in, say, a business environment? Or do you have one person with responsibility for ensuring accuracy, completeness, and compliance with standards?
Now What?
So, now that I've expressed my anxieties about these collaborative efforts, what do we do about it? Are these reasons to turn our backs on wikis? Do we censor those without credentials from talking like experts in a public forum that could be mistaken for a reputable source of information? Or do we, maybe, encourage the inclusion of disclaimers - more obvious, bold disclaimers - that the material is from "common folk - just like us"? Maybe we encourage revelation of the authors and their credentials - if they have any.
It could be argued that there's no real risk here. Anyone can write a book with inaccurate information. Publish a newsletter. Create a video. Write a memo. These items can provide misinformation, lies, half-truths. Sure they can. But it's a whole lot harder (costlier...more time consuming) to get those thing out and circulated. My little article or my class' wiki project could be seen by billions of people in an instant at no or little cost. There's a lot of power in that. And, as Spiderman learned, "With great power comes great responsibility."
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