Don't Don't

by Brad Beals

Versitext.com

Several posts ago, I dealt with the passive voice, its problems, its uses. One of the reasons that passive-voice construction (The ball was thrown by me, as opposed to the active I threw the ball) is a hindrance to clarity is that it requires an extra cognitive step to get to the meaning. It asks the synapses to fire a few more times than would be necessary with the active voice.

But there are other language habits that do the same thing. Using a negative to indicate its positive opposite, for example. Take this sentence: “Don’t be short.” It’s a caddie talking to his player. Now, this may be good advice. The caddie may know this particular spot on this green and understand that, given the grain, grass type, and the nearby pond, there’s a tendency for golfers leave it short. He might very well know exactly what he’s talking about, but he may also lose his job.

Just like with the passive voice, an imperative framed in the negative, like our caddie’s piece of advice, requires an additional cognitive step. The golfer must first understand what the statement means in the negative and then translate it into the positive opposite. Compare these two cognitive sequences:

A. With “Don’t be short”, the golfer’s brain would do something like this:

1. short means the ball stops before the hole
2. don’t means this is bad and the opposite is good
3. the opposite of short is long
4. therefore, I should try to hit it just past the hole
   

B. With “You can be long” the brain only needs to do this:

1. long means past the hole

2. therefore, I should try to it just past the hole.

If it sounds like I’m making an issue out of nothing, like I’m inventing for blog material, just hang on. Yes, the brain works so fast that we don’t perceive a difference between “don’t leave it short” and “you can be long.” It’s not as if the golfer now says,”Darn you, caddie! Now I’ve had to unnecessarily expend mental energy transposing your negative imperative into the positive. Two extra cognitive steps! You’re fired!” But something else is going on, something very important to both golfers and anyone trying to compel or persuade with words.

Here’s the problem: When the caddie says don't be short, the player will visualize short—he can’t help it; it’s a language/brain thing. Here’s an illustration: don’t think of green grass! So what did you think of? All kinds of things maybe, but the very first thing and the one to stick was green grass.

So now the player needs to revisualize the opposite of short since the caddie said "don't". Once again, it's not the extra cognitive steps that irk the golfer, it's that first image in his head of hitting the ball short. The golfer now has to superimpose with added effort the opposite image of hitting the ball past the cup. And in high-pressure situations, that can be next to impossible. The caddie has just spoiled his employer's sports psyche by introducing negative thinking. And he may also have just spoiled his own livelihood.

This will be very useful—you’re thinking—when I become a professional golfer, but how does this affect me now as a writer?

The implications for us as writers are the same as the consequences were for the caddie. Your readers, your players, will visualize what you put before them. So, when it’s possible and appropriate, when it doesn’t jeopardize the overall purpose of the copy, when it doesn’t handcuff you into veering away from the best rhetorical sequence, frame your imperatives in the positive.

Here’s an easy way to make a determination as to whether you should avoid a not: Ask yourself this: when casting words in the negative, are you ok with your reader having in mind (and holding it, we have to presume) the opposite of what you’re saying. Is it ok for your player to visualize short when you want him hitting it long? If not, present it in the positive. If it doesn’t hurt, don’t sweat it.

And you can always use these same principles in reverse. Reverse psychology, that is. Don’t open this box. Don’t ring this bell. And whatever you do, DON’T read my next blog.

versitext. Business-Language Solutions

Ink Responsibly

By Brad Beals

Versitext.com

Last week, I stumped hard for the active voice. And for good reason: it’s the better choice, the safer choice for responsible writers. However, the passive voice, in moderation and in the right hands, can be useful for getting you out of some awkward spots.

The weakness of the passive voice—that the actor is stated indirectly, or not at all—occasionally turns out to be a strength. Let’s say, for example, that you don’t know (or want to hide) who the actor in the sentence is. Just call in the passive voice:

Sexual harassment charges against Mr. Jones were filed yesterday. (We’re protecting the person who filed them.)

Forty acres of orange trees have been planted. (We don’t know—and no one would care—who planted them.)

Our house was vandalized. (We’d love to know who did it, but the police have no promising leads.)

To force an active-voice construction would make matters worse:

Someone—we’re not at liberty to say who—filed sexual harassment charges against Mr. Jones yesterday.

Migrant workers, presumably, planted forty acres of orange trees.

Representatives of the local criminal element vandalized our house.

Notice that the active voice shifts emphasis to the actor. Not only does this make for awkward reading, it also changes the intent of the sentences. The original sentences are about the charges against Mr. Jones, the forty acres of orange trees, and our house, not about an unknown plaintiff, migrant workers, or criminals. Now it may be that if we had the information about the actor or the desire to divulge it, our emphasis and intent would be different. But we have neither.

There are also times when we want to emphasize the receiver not because we’re hiding or we’re ignorant of the actor, but because it’s our purpose, and because some things don’t fit neatly into active voice. This is the second use of the passive: intentionally emphasizing the receiver.

In a piece about the Academy Awards, it would be right and good and proper to write a passive-voice sentence like this: This year’s Oscar for best supporting actor was awarded to George Clooney. But in a bio on George Clooney, he should have the rightful place at the front of an active sentence. George Clooney won the Oscar.

And if you think about it, Oscar, as the subject of a sentence, will almost always be in passive voice. Besides sitting on a shelf, there’s little else for an Oscar to do but be given, be awarded, be handed out, be toted, be brandished, be coveted, be sold on ebay. A statue, by its nature, is passive. It will never make a good actor, even if it is an Oscar.

Finally, you might employ the passive voice when your text calls for sentence variety. I say might, because there are many ways to vary sentences without resorting to the passive. However, the rare, adeptly spun passive to break up a long, wooden passage, one that casts no shadow on your subject would be acceptable. But use in moderation.

So while active voice is clearer, stronger, and more concise, it can’t do everything. If the actor is unknown or needs to be hidden, or if the receiver of the action is your focus, cast it in the passive voice. And for the sake of variety, advanced users may employ the passive—but please…write responsibly. Don’t put interested readers at risk.

versitext Business-Language Solutions

Actives Speak Louder

by Brad Beals

Versitext.com

The last time you thought of active and passive voice was probably high school. Let's dust it off and see how it applies to writing copy for the web. First, a refresher...

By the time we're 12 or so, the grammar/language template in our heads is fixed. This explains why anyone moving to the US before that age will probably lose the accent while anyone older will keep it. For the English speaker this fixed structure also means that in the normal course of language use, subject precedes verb and verb precedes complement. How this or any word order conveys meaning is called syntax.

In the sentence The dog chased the ball our subject is dog, the verb is chased, and the complement is ball. But if we're given the two nouns in different order—ball, dog—our brains, by default, will have the first doing an action to the second. Ball hits dog. That's our natural syntax making sense of the two nouns. But our brains are good at language, and if we know that chasing is involved we can straighten it out by recasting it in the passive—The ball was chased by the dog. The meaning is the same as our first sentence, but to get there we've asked our brain to stop in its normal track and to take a slight turn in syntax. Likewise, when we read a passive construction, the syntax requires us to add a step in order to comprehend it. It's like walking through a room with furniture in it. We do it all the time but not usually on a straight line, and always at the risk of stubbing a toe.

So how do we apply that to web-page copy? First, active voice helps us take advantage of web-user scanning habits. It’s a truism that web users don't read, they scan. When we scan a page, we unconsciously assume—among other things—a standard syntax, so passive constructions aren’t picked up as easily. Ball before dog, therefore, is a bump that the scanning eye wants to skip since our brains have to perform an extra function to fill in the meaning. A scanning eye is unforgiving toward copy, so bumps get jumped.

Secondly, active voice is shorter. In terms of home-page copy, shorter is better. A page full of text is a barrier off which your user is likely to bounce. Active voice can help. Compare our sentences: The dog chased the ball. Five words. The ball was chased by the dog. Seven words. Two added words may not seem like much, but that's an increase in copy of 29%. A passive-prone writer is a fluffy writer, and web users are unmerciful with fluff.

Finally, active voice is clearer. You can't help but appreciate the blunt-spoken. You always know exactly where they're coming from. And blunt people don't speak in the passive voice. Their subjects are right out front for all to see, not hidden at the end behind verb and prep phrases. For the sake of clarity, web copywriters might take a cue from such straight shooters. Subject does verb—it's very simple, really.

The active voice is simply more effective for the web and other forms of business copy. Our scanning eyes demand it, a clearly conveyed message requires it, and your users are more likely to actually read it. So it turns out your high school English teacher was right about something.

versitext. Business-Language Solutions