The “deep throat” of oral agreements

“Oral” — as in “oral agreement” — is pretty much disappearing, replaced — incorrectly — by “verbal agreement.”

Why incorrectly? Well, etymologically, “oral” (from the Latin oralis, based on os, mouth) means “related to the mouth,” or by extension, speech, so an “oral agreement” meant (and still means) a spoken agreement, one not written down. Since most important agreements are written down, an “oral agreement” has always been a significant special category, particularly in legal matters. Meanwhile, “verbal” (from the Latin verbum, word) includes anything consisting of words–which would of course encompass both spoken and written language. So the phrase ”verbal agreement” is not only broad — it includes spoken agreements and  written contracts — but it incorporates what’s generally a redundancy, since almost all human agreements are made of words. Of course, there are exceptions: semaphor-flag communication, and kisses between new lovers. And to confuse things a bit more, an “unspoken agreement” does have meaning: an agreement arrived at by custom or habit, without being made explicit (like a tacit understanding between neighbors to keep their dogs leashed). 

In any case, ”oral agreement” is now becoming almost universally displaced by ”verbal agreement” — so that “verbal” is used as though it meant “spoken,” at least in this one phrase. The reason is intriguing: I suspect that the word “oral” has become a bit naughty for the front parlor, as it were. After the sexual revolution made open discussion of sex a commonplace, the phrase “oral sex” became more frequently encountered than ever before. Moreover, ”oral” isn’t commonly used, otherwise; in fact – and here’s the key point — in most contexts today, outside of medicine and science, the word “oral” is rarely encountered without “sex” after it. So people – even those who knew what an “oral agreement” was – may have shied away from that phrase. (“Then we reached an oral agreement.” “Where? Behind the stairs?”) And since “verbal” sounded vaguely similar to those who don’t watch language carefully (i.e., most people), it became used as a less socially-charged substitute.

What to do about this? Depends on which way you want to risk embarrassment. You could use the right phrase, perhaps feeling that tinge of impropriety, or give in and use the wrong phrase, knowing you’re displaying (and furthering) ignorance. Your call. In any case, the world is definitely on the road to the wrong usage.

Now I lie me down to sleep (said the editor)

So many mistakes with lie/lay occur that it does seem the distinction may have been completely lost, or is rapidly getting there. It’s still irritating in professional writing, though — at least, it is to some of us. New York magazine, May 12, 2008, page 33: “In the worst-case scenario, you could . . . lay down in the trough between the rails.” Oh, please. Nobody at the mag knew this was wrong? One verb is intransitive, one is not. It’s not nuclear physics.  

P. S.  Yet the mixup doesn’t seem so bad in certain song lyrics: Dylan’s “Lay, Lady, Lay” kinda seems to work. Maybe that’s because the key line–”Lay across my big brass bed”–is in fact taken from the blues world, and may somehow bring along the built-in ”distressed” quality of antique folk material (as with, say, double negatives).  On the other hand, Kenny Rogers’ “She Believes in Me” included the same error, but in a way – ”While she lays dreaming . . .” – that seems truly ugly. That’s a fairly old country hit, at this point, and may have been an “early adopter,” and so a leader in drilling the wrong usage into American ears. But country fans are a different demographic from professional editors, with different preferred usages (leastways, that used to be the case).

 

Every writer should keep their eyes open

English has some singular/plural issues, as in a situation when — for example –”The speech was so boring, everyone began shutting their eyes.”  To avoid both that mistake and the too-formal kind of fix (“his or her eyes”), a rewrite is typically necessary. That often takes more than simple re-jiggering, but an actual rewrite — e.g., “eyelids began drooping everywhere.”

In any case, what’s truly surprising (and irritating, to anyone who knows better) is to see text–in particular, professionally-written text–that manages to create such a problem when it’s not even there.

Here’s a truly astoundingly inept example, and from the FIRST sentence of an article in the New York Times, no less, of August 21, 2008, page D4, “All-Around Appeal” (are the Times editors asleep?): “Each with an Olympic gold medal to call their own, the gymnasts Nastia Liukin and Shawn Johnson prepared to part ways after sharing the long road to stardom.” How could it not occur to anyone at the paper of record–writer or editors–that the first phrase cried out for “to call HER own”? It’s not just a question of complete ignorance of basic usage (how can “each” be followed by “their”???); you’d need a tin ear too. to think “their own” was fine, in that sentence.  

And now we hear from New York magazine, May 12, 2008, page 37: “If Chloe Sevigny [wore] a potato sack, it wouldn’t take long before every other girl on the Lower East Side needed their potato sack.” [Italics in original.] What??? Here again, this particular problem doesn’t even exist, since only females were involved, and the sentence could–and should–have ended with “her potato sack.”  It would seem that here was someone vaguely aware that such constructions can be tricky, who then, in a mechanical avoidance reflex, managed to insert an error when there wasn’t any danger of one. Half-awake, evidently (with editors half-dozing along).

Suppose the problem in the New York article had existed? That is, what if the thought had applied to both sexes: “If  all the unisex trendies wore green jackets, it wouldn’t be long before everyone else on the Lower East Side needed. . . . ” This does present that “their/his-or-her” problem. Again, a rewrite would solve it: ”. . . it wouldn’t be long before every Lower East Side fashion-follower sported the same crucial garment.”

One reason to think Sony’s ad writers can’t write

From a recent Sony ad: “HERE’S 50,000 REASONS TO GET A BRAVIA HDTV NOW” (Sports Illustrated, Jan. 28, 2008, page 64). Okay: “Here is reasons.” In elementary school we learn some basic concepts. Here is the name of one: Singular. Here is the name of another: Plural.  Here is a rule: We have verbs for each of these, and the verbs are distinct. Is this difficult, Sony-Ad Dick and Sony-Ad Jane? Apparently so.

Each of such mistakes are ugly, no?

Newsweek, May 26, 2008, page 43: “Each of the 300 arriving ninth graders are randomly assigned to one of the houses. . . . ” [Italics added.] You’d think writers and editors could remember all the way back to five or six words earlier, wouldn’t you? It seems to me that major publications simply did not contain such elementary-school errors, years ago (of course, that could be my own aging recollections failing me).

Everyone missed it

This one takes a little time and text to explain. Newsweek, May 5, 2008, page 31: “[H]e is one of those . . . intellectuals whom George W. Bush liked to ridicule as a Deke brother . . . and . . . as president .  . . (and, long before him, demagogues like . . . Father Charles Coughlin; Red-baiter Joe McCarthy . . . and . . . race-baiter Gov. George Wallace of Alabama.)” There’s a glaring and basic error in parallelism, because there’s no verb — express or implied — for the people included in parentheses. And “ridicule” does not work for them, the way the sentence is set up. It’s amazing that no editor (or any of the three, count ‘em, writers) saw this obvious error, or made the very easy fix: Just cut that initial “and” within the parentheses and replace it with two words–”(as did, long before him  . . . )”–and the sentence would read correctly, and as intended. 

We don’t “match to” people or things

Again, poor prepositions get battered. Newsweek, May 5, 2008, page 57: “[Eleanor Roosevelt] was no match to her rival.” Oh, my. When you don’t measure up, you’re no match for someone or something. It’s been that way a long time. Again–nobody edits, any more?

What’s “a member for”??

“Alonso is . . . a board member for both the . . . County Museum of Art and [the] Museum of Contemporary Art.” (Newark Star-Ledger,  May 11, 2008, Section 2, page 1). A major newspaper doesn’t know the word “member” is followed by “of”??? But would even a 4th-grader say “She’s a member for my club?” (Yes, the Houses of Parliament have ”members for” the areas they represent; but that’s certainly a special usage.)

Speaking of ignorant . . .

Newsweek, May 5, 2008, page 39: “[T]he former president had proved himself . . . ignorant to  [ italics mine] the realities of the radio age.” Ignorant TO ?? Where has anyone heard or read this in English? In a major publication, yet. Astounding. Somebody might have been thinking “oblivous to” — but in any case, how many people at this magazine were oblivious to the stunning clunker that emerged?  

Live and let edit, Paul

Assuming this is the correct lyric — “But in this ever-changing world in which we live in” — then McCartney did something really redumb-dant with this: “in  which we live in.” Some people believe he’s singing ”in which we’re livin’,” a dropped-g phrase which avoids such absurdity. (And makes the same money, too.) But it’s hard to hear that crucial “we’re.” So I think the solecism is there, though I doubt if they’ll strip his knighthood for it, at this point.

Honey, we shrank the rules

It’s at least partly caused by that movie. Even the New York Times now misses the difference between the past tense and the past participle in some basic verbs. May 1, 2008, page C1, in “Squeezed in Europe,” we see: ”[T]he broad middle of the German work force . . . shrunk to 54 percent of the population. . . . ” Oops. So even the paper of record today sank — or sunk, film fans — under the new laxness.