Because it *&%$$ means "tenth"

If I woke up one morning and found myself living in a society where it was necessary to declare one's position on grammatical usage, I'd call myself a descriptivist. As a rule, I'm much more interested in how people use language and how language changes than I am in adhering to rules about how language "should" be deployed. Except in certain specific instances where demonstrating one's ability to follow the rules is either the point or otherwise very important, I think that if you're understood, you're doing it right.

However. How. stinking. ever. There is such a thing as nuance. There is such a thing as precision. We abandon these to our peril.

The imprecise use of language and the ignoring of nuance, I think, we ought to try to avoid whenever possible, for any "wrong" usage in these cases contributes to the wearing away of the precision and nuance we are trying to preserve. We should take the most care in written, reviewed, published use of language, where erring on the side of precision should reign. One of the precise words I most often see used imprecisely is "decimate," which originally meant to kill one in ten of a group, probably as a punishment for the whole. This meaning has almost entirely been replaced by the usage of to destroy a large part of something. This latter (and later) usage is so common (and the need for the former now so relatively unlikely), that I can't get up too much ire at it. But it does serve as an excellent example of the sort of thing I'm getting at. The original definition was very specific; the currently common one is not. The precision of the original is flattened out by the broader sense of its successor. Now, this change is one of the niftiest things about language, how a word can alter and morph from a meaning we don't have much use for into one we will put to work. But imagine how hard it would be to claw back the original meaning if we needed it. Imagine how much insisting we would have to do that we meant "decimate" literally if we were to need to mean it literally. The issue is not, perhaps, that there is actually anything wrong with the "wrong" meaning, but rather that the repeated use of that "wrong" meaning eventually denies us access to the "right" meaning. I don't have any great fears about losing the earlier meaning of "decimate." Let it go, I guess. And may we never need its literal meaning, actually, 'cause yikes. But what of other words whose meanings are flattening out because of our imprecise use of them?

I don't give a rooti-toot about many of the much bally-hooed grammatical errors of grade school and the self-appointed grammar mavens of the internet comments section. Split an infinitive? Sure, do the thing that sounds most agreeable. End a sentence with a preposition? That is something up with which I am willing to put. The most important thing is making yourself understood. Sometimes diction and conforming to a particular kind of discourse are also important, but for most of us, most of the time, meaning is what matters. But that is why I will always stump for maintaining our precision and nuance. Splitting an infinitive (or not) rarely changes the meaning of what one is trying to say. Same with ending a sentence with a preposition. Or starting a sentence with a conjunction. But please don't confuse "their," "they're," and "there" because they don't mean the same thing. Many of us, even if we sometimes use the wrong "there," know that we've made the mistake, or at least know there's a mistake to be made around the use of that word. It probably sticks with us because it looks like a spelling error, the kind of error that is definitive and easy to understand. The kinds of "errors" around meaning that bother me most are the ones that most of us don't realize are occurring, because our language is, as it does, changing. It’s one of my small, nerdy pleasures to watch that happen. Gives me a little tingle just there on the back of my neck. But I have a handful of words I’m fighting a one-woman battle to preserve, because I want to be able to say what they say. Maybe you have your own little list. Maybe we can put our lists together and they’ll call it a movement. Won’t you please join me in championing these lovelies:

Ambivalent. It doesn’t mean you don’t care. It means you can’t decide. “Do you want to go out for dinner or order in?” “Whichever you like.” ß Doesn’t care. “I’m not sure. A nice sit-down dinner would be lovely, but there’s an appeal to not having to put on pants.” ßAmbivalent.

Discomfit. To embarrass. Distinct from “discomfort.” (“Discomfit” is another one of those words that used to have a specific battle-related meaning, by the way.) The conflation of these two words is almost certainly down to language’s tendency to drift toward less complicated pronunciation. “Discomfort” sounds like “discomfit” when said quickly or in certain accents. Nifty! But, Save the Words! (I’m gonna get T-shirts made up.)

Discreet. Judicious. Done with care, especially in regards to privacy.

Discrete. Separate. Distinct. Detached. It looks like a spelling mistake, but it’s really *important scary voice* the Murder of Meaning. *pets words*

Disinterested. Not influenced by the potential outcome; having no personal stake in the result.

Uninterested. Not interested; doesn’t care about the thing. “Disinterested” originally was used to mean “uninterested,” but since we’ve got the distinction now, I think we ought to keep it. (So handy.)

Niggardly. Stingy.  It has nothing whatsoever to do with that other word that starts with “n.” Noooothiiiing. Even their etymologies are completely unrelated. “Niggardly” comes from a Middle English word that meant, well, stingy. And the other word comes from a Latin word for black. The only thing they have in common is an unfortunate similarity in pronunciation. (And a resemblance on the page.) I’m resigned to losing this one, honestly, and I’m okay with it. I’d rather lose a smidgen of nuance by using one of the many close synonyms for “niggardly” than barrel around using a word that can be mistaken for a terrible offense, especially when I know the potential for that offense is there. But I would like us to collectively remember that they aren’t related. Because I like to remember things like that, sure, but also because some people are still using “niggardly,” and if we can keep people from being genuinely hurt by a misunderstanding, I call that good.

Nonplussed. Who the codex even knows what this hecking word means at this point? Honestly. The original definition is: surprised or confused to the point of not knowing what to do. But in the US (and maybe Canada? I dunno, Canadians, have you succumbed to this madness?) it has come to mean pretty much exactly the opposite: unperturbed; like, cool as a cucumber. And all right, sure. Words flip their meanings like that sometimes. (Nifty!) But not all English speakers use this word in the same way. Oh, JimJim is nonplussed. But is JimJim written by a Brit or an US? And not all Americans use the word the same way, because some of us are Save the Words nutjobs (T-shirts at the back) and insist on using the “correct” definition. And the thing is, sometimes it’s hard to tell from the context which meaning the author meant. *holds head* Oh my ears and whiskers. If you gotta use “nonplussed,” I’m honestly for the original definition because it’s such a great word used that way. I mean, characters in a tither, how grand. But mostly when I see this word (especially in a novel), Brain just says, “Dunno. Maybe bears. Wouldn’t risk it.”

There you have it, folks: Laura’s pretty good conglomerate of endangered wordlets. (Aren’t they cute?)

What’s yours?