Almost no native of the United States seems to be able to speak more than a few sentences consecutively without committing a glaring error of vocabulary or grammar. This is without respect to education level.
Some foreigners, and even some Americans, would gleefully attribute this to our "vulgarity", "stupidity" and so forth.
Here one should point out that a high proportion of the cleverest and most accomplished people in the world are actually American. Our profound sense of practicality which, blended with a prodigious confidence and yes, intelligence, has resulted in many successful Americans becoming noteworthy well beyond our borders. Other countries are lucky to have a bare handful of celebrities with international recognition. We have hundreds, if not more, and their fame is wholly justified.
Whatever else we may be, we are not dull-witted. Yet when our countrymen are called upon to speak, whatever the occasion, the result is sometimes an appalling disaster. Americans seem consciously to avoid any vocabulary choice which might aid them in lending added force to their argument. They are unable to conjugate verbs that are separated from their subjects by more than a few words. They are drawn to wrong words or even malapropisms like a moth to candle flame. Quite often they begin a sentence seemingly having no more idea about how it should end than you or I would.
I have been puzzled by this. However, I now realize that it is owing to a peculiarity of our culture, and not to a fault in our national character. Yes, public speaking is no longer taught in school. But at bottom, I think we are afraid that if we were to speak with greater care, we would seem too arch. An American can only be so dry before his thirst overwhelms him. An American has a horror of appearing to be "inaccessible". By rounding the angles of his speech until his meaning must be guessed; by insisting on being colloquial, however unsuitable the circumstances; by unconsciously insisting that his interlocutor is always his equal by choosing simple words that only approximate his intended meaning -- these are the almost intentional errors Americans feel compelled to use in their speech to mollify their listeners.
What an American almost never seems to want to do, however, is bend his audience with the power of rhetoric, supported by conviction. We are uncomfortable with the arresting phrase, with the poetic juxtaposition of words. We do not wish to stir, to artfully provoke, to paint a word-picture of demanding originality.
So while on the one hand it is considerate of us, I suppose, never to challenge one another with speech possessing unanswerable logic and poetic forcefulness, we are also being cowardly for avoiding the slight mental discipline it would take to speak, at the least, correctly. Once we regained some comfort with the correct spoken language (we would have to lose the fear of seeming snobbish), we could move to improve our public discourse. Our politicians could give speeches that, on occasion, ennoble (we currently lack so much as one first-rate speaker in our political class, including our president*). We could inject much-needed refinement into our private discourse. In developing the art of conversation we could actually exalt ourselves.
I would never advise anyone to be more conscious of his speech if I hadn't seen countless encounters needlessly spoiled by a lack of regard on the part of the person initiating the conversation for the condition of the person being addressed. This is the American vice. I am convinced that it is our poverty in oral language, every bit as much as it is our famous "rudeness", that makes conversational exchanges frequently so excruciating in this country.
*The famous phrases of our president, at least some of which seem to have been concocted by speech writers, seem to me to be on the level of greeting-card mottoes.
Some foreigners, and even some Americans, would gleefully attribute this to our "vulgarity", "stupidity" and so forth.
Here one should point out that a high proportion of the cleverest and most accomplished people in the world are actually American. Our profound sense of practicality which, blended with a prodigious confidence and yes, intelligence, has resulted in many successful Americans becoming noteworthy well beyond our borders. Other countries are lucky to have a bare handful of celebrities with international recognition. We have hundreds, if not more, and their fame is wholly justified.
Whatever else we may be, we are not dull-witted. Yet when our countrymen are called upon to speak, whatever the occasion, the result is sometimes an appalling disaster. Americans seem consciously to avoid any vocabulary choice which might aid them in lending added force to their argument. They are unable to conjugate verbs that are separated from their subjects by more than a few words. They are drawn to wrong words or even malapropisms like a moth to candle flame. Quite often they begin a sentence seemingly having no more idea about how it should end than you or I would.
I have been puzzled by this. However, I now realize that it is owing to a peculiarity of our culture, and not to a fault in our national character. Yes, public speaking is no longer taught in school. But at bottom, I think we are afraid that if we were to speak with greater care, we would seem too arch. An American can only be so dry before his thirst overwhelms him. An American has a horror of appearing to be "inaccessible". By rounding the angles of his speech until his meaning must be guessed; by insisting on being colloquial, however unsuitable the circumstances; by unconsciously insisting that his interlocutor is always his equal by choosing simple words that only approximate his intended meaning -- these are the almost intentional errors Americans feel compelled to use in their speech to mollify their listeners.
What an American almost never seems to want to do, however, is bend his audience with the power of rhetoric, supported by conviction. We are uncomfortable with the arresting phrase, with the poetic juxtaposition of words. We do not wish to stir, to artfully provoke, to paint a word-picture of demanding originality.
So while on the one hand it is considerate of us, I suppose, never to challenge one another with speech possessing unanswerable logic and poetic forcefulness, we are also being cowardly for avoiding the slight mental discipline it would take to speak, at the least, correctly. Once we regained some comfort with the correct spoken language (we would have to lose the fear of seeming snobbish), we could move to improve our public discourse. Our politicians could give speeches that, on occasion, ennoble (we currently lack so much as one first-rate speaker in our political class, including our president*). We could inject much-needed refinement into our private discourse. In developing the art of conversation we could actually exalt ourselves.
----
We are inundated with language. But it is of mediocre quality. Just as perniciously, we are no longer encouraged to treat certain texts with reverence. For example, the King James Bible is a very important artifact, but it is no longer sacred both as a literary text and as a religious authority. The authority of language, as language, has all but disappeared.
In school, this abdication of authority regarding language takes different forms: grammar has ceased to be taught as a discrete subject; in written exercises, expression and form are accorded equal weight; reading assignments must, seemingly, never be in a language that might be unfamiliar to students.
One can decry this as one wishes. But the insidious effects of no longer having any supreme guides for how we speak and write are much more widespread than just our school curricula. Our culture practically forces us to speak to one another in a language but also in a tone that is familiar. While this may be relaxing to some, it is impoverishing and in the end, exhausting and dispiriting if one happens to pay any attention to how words are used. There could be no harm in once again recognizing that we all occupy a discrete personal sphere which, if properly respected (as circumstances will permit), could result in our daily interactions being a great deal more fruitful, to say nothing of more enjoyable. Moreover, if we were only slightly more correct in our bearing and speech, we would actually raise ourselves in the estimation of others- that is, if being raised in another's estimation is seen as an important value. The pitfall to avoid, of course, is appearing stiff, which will never happen if one just uses some common sense.
One can decry this as one wishes. But the insidious effects of no longer having any supreme guides for how we speak and write are much more widespread than just our school curricula. Our culture practically forces us to speak to one another in a language but also in a tone that is familiar. While this may be relaxing to some, it is impoverishing and in the end, exhausting and dispiriting if one happens to pay any attention to how words are used. There could be no harm in once again recognizing that we all occupy a discrete personal sphere which, if properly respected (as circumstances will permit), could result in our daily interactions being a great deal more fruitful, to say nothing of more enjoyable. Moreover, if we were only slightly more correct in our bearing and speech, we would actually raise ourselves in the estimation of others- that is, if being raised in another's estimation is seen as an important value. The pitfall to avoid, of course, is appearing stiff, which will never happen if one just uses some common sense.
I would never advise anyone to be more conscious of his speech if I hadn't seen countless encounters needlessly spoiled by a lack of regard on the part of the person initiating the conversation for the condition of the person being addressed. This is the American vice. I am convinced that it is our poverty in oral language, every bit as much as it is our famous "rudeness", that makes conversational exchanges frequently so excruciating in this country.
*The famous phrases of our president, at least some of which seem to have been concocted by speech writers, seem to me to be on the level of greeting-card mottoes.
