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The Sense of Style: The Thinking Person's Guide to Writing in the 21st Century
A short and entertaining book on the modern art of writing well by New York Times bestselling author Steven Pinker
Why is so much writing so bad, and how can we make it better? Is the English language being corrupted by texting and social media? Do the kids today even care about good writing? Why should any of us care?
In The Sense of Style, the bestselling linguist and cognitive scientist Steven Pinker answers these questions and more. Rethinking the usage guide for the twenty-first century, Pinker doesn’t carp about the decline of language or recycle pet peeves from the rulebooks of a century ago. Instead, he applies insights from the sciences of language and mind to the challenge of crafting clear, coherent, and stylish prose.
In this short, cheerful, and eminently practical book, Pinker shows how writing depends on imagination, empathy, coherence, grammatical knowhow, and an ability to savor and reverse engineer the good prose of others. He replaces dogma about usage with reason and evidence, allowing writers and editors to apply the guidelines judiciously, rather than robotically, being mindful of what they are designed to accomplish.
Filled with examples of great and gruesome prose, Pinker shows us how the art of writing can be a form of pleasurable mastery and a fascinating intellectual topic in its own right.
Why is so much writing so bad, and how can we make it better? Is the English language being corrupted by texting and social media? Do the kids today even care about good writing? Why should any of us care?
In The Sense of Style, the bestselling linguist and cognitive scientist Steven Pinker answers these questions and more. Rethinking the usage guide for the twenty-first century, Pinker doesn’t carp about the decline of language or recycle pet peeves from the rulebooks of a century ago. Instead, he applies insights from the sciences of language and mind to the challenge of crafting clear, coherent, and stylish prose.
In this short, cheerful, and eminently practical book, Pinker shows how writing depends on imagination, empathy, coherence, grammatical knowhow, and an ability to savor and reverse engineer the good prose of others. He replaces dogma about usage with reason and evidence, allowing writers and editors to apply the guidelines judiciously, rather than robotically, being mindful of what they are designed to accomplish.
Filled with examples of great and gruesome prose, Pinker shows us how the art of writing can be a form of pleasurable mastery and a fascinating intellectual topic in its own right.
368 pages, Hardcover
First published September 4, 2014
3137 people are currently reading
27077 people want to read
About the author
Steven Pinker
69 books10.4k followersSteven Arthur Pinker is a prominent Canadian-American experimental psychologist, cognitive scientist, and author of popular science. Pinker is known for his wide-ranging explorations of human nature and its relevance to language, history, morality, politics, and everyday life. He conducts research on language and cognition, writes for publications such as the New York Times, Time, and The New Republic, and is the author of numerous books, including The Language Instinct, How the Mind Works, Words and Rules, The Blank Slate, The Stuff of Thought, The Better Angels of Our Nature, The Sense of Style, and most recently, Enlightenment Now: The Case for Reason, Science, Humanism, and Progress.
He was born in Canada and graduated from Montreal's Dawson College in 1973. He received a bachelor's degree in experimental psychology from McGill University in 1976, and then went on to earn his doctorate in the same discipline at Harvard in 1979. He did research at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) for a year, then became an assistant professor at Harvard and then Stanford University. From 1982 until 2003, Pinker taught at the Department of Brain and Cognitive Sciences at MIT, and eventually became the director of the Center for Cognitive Neuroscience. (Except for a one-year sabbatical at the University of California, Santa Barbara in 1995-6.) As of 2008, he is the Johnstone Family Professor of Psychology at Harvard.
Pinker was named one of Time Magazine's 100 most influential people in the world in 2004 and one of Prospect and Foreign Policy's 100 top public intellectuals in 2005. He has also received honorary doctorates from the universities of Newcastle, Surrey, Tel Aviv, McGill, and the University of Tromsø, Norway. He was twice a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize, in 1998 and in 2003. In January 2005, Pinker defended Lawrence Summers, President of Harvard University, whose comments about the gender gap in mathematics and science angered much of the faculty. On May 13th 2006, Pinker received the American Humanist Association's Humanist of the Year award for his contributions to public understanding of human evolution.
In 2007, he was invited on The Colbert Report and asked under pressure to sum up how the brain works in five words – Pinker answered "Brain cells fire in patterns."
Pinker was born into the English-speaking Jewish community of Montreal. He has said, "I was never religious in the theological sense... I never outgrew my conversion to atheism at 13, but at various times was a serious cultural Jew." As a teenager, he says he considered himself an anarchist until he witnessed civil unrest following a police strike in 1969. His father, a trained lawyer, first worked as a traveling salesman, while his mother was first a home-maker then a guidance counselor and high-school vice-principal. He has two younger siblings. His brother is a policy analyst for the Canadian government. His sister, Susan Pinker, is a columnist for the Wall Street Journal and the author of The Sexual Paradox and The Village Effect.
Pinker married Nancy Etcoff in 1980 and they divorced 1992; he married Ilavenil Subbiah in 1995 and they too divorced. He is married to the novelist and philosopher Rebecca Goldstein, the author of 10 books and winner of the National Medal of the Humanities. He has no children.
His next book will take off from his research on "common knowledge" (knowing that everyone knows something). Its tentative title is: Don't Go There: Common Knowledge and the Science of Civility, Hypocrisy, Outrage, and Taboo.
He was born in Canada and graduated from Montreal's Dawson College in 1973. He received a bachelor's degree in experimental psychology from McGill University in 1976, and then went on to earn his doctorate in the same discipline at Harvard in 1979. He did research at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) for a year, then became an assistant professor at Harvard and then Stanford University. From 1982 until 2003, Pinker taught at the Department of Brain and Cognitive Sciences at MIT, and eventually became the director of the Center for Cognitive Neuroscience. (Except for a one-year sabbatical at the University of California, Santa Barbara in 1995-6.) As of 2008, he is the Johnstone Family Professor of Psychology at Harvard.
Pinker was named one of Time Magazine's 100 most influential people in the world in 2004 and one of Prospect and Foreign Policy's 100 top public intellectuals in 2005. He has also received honorary doctorates from the universities of Newcastle, Surrey, Tel Aviv, McGill, and the University of Tromsø, Norway. He was twice a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize, in 1998 and in 2003. In January 2005, Pinker defended Lawrence Summers, President of Harvard University, whose comments about the gender gap in mathematics and science angered much of the faculty. On May 13th 2006, Pinker received the American Humanist Association's Humanist of the Year award for his contributions to public understanding of human evolution.
In 2007, he was invited on The Colbert Report and asked under pressure to sum up how the brain works in five words – Pinker answered "Brain cells fire in patterns."
Pinker was born into the English-speaking Jewish community of Montreal. He has said, "I was never religious in the theological sense... I never outgrew my conversion to atheism at 13, but at various times was a serious cultural Jew." As a teenager, he says he considered himself an anarchist until he witnessed civil unrest following a police strike in 1969. His father, a trained lawyer, first worked as a traveling salesman, while his mother was first a home-maker then a guidance counselor and high-school vice-principal. He has two younger siblings. His brother is a policy analyst for the Canadian government. His sister, Susan Pinker, is a columnist for the Wall Street Journal and the author of The Sexual Paradox and The Village Effect.
Pinker married Nancy Etcoff in 1980 and they divorced 1992; he married Ilavenil Subbiah in 1995 and they too divorced. He is married to the novelist and philosopher Rebecca Goldstein, the author of 10 books and winner of the National Medal of the Humanities. He has no children.
His next book will take off from his research on "common knowledge" (knowing that everyone knows something). Its tentative title is: Don't Go There: Common Knowledge and the Science of Civility, Hypocrisy, Outrage, and Taboo.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,082 reviews
November 1, 2014
I have enjoyed every one of Steven Pinker's books, and this one is no exception. Pinker writes engagingly, with humor, with intelligence, and with authority. He is the chair of the Usage Panel of the American Heritage Dictionary, so he has useful insights into how the English language is being used in print. As a linguist, he not only knows all the "rules" of writing, he understands the logic (or illogic) behind them. Moreover, he understands which "rules" are real, and which ones were just dreamed up for the heck of it.
Pinker shows how many writers fall into a wide range of traps. The chief trap is the curse of knowledge. This occurs when a writer assumes that his reader knows as much as himself. Some people believe that opaque writing is a deliberate choice. Pseudo-intellectuals often dress up their writings with "highfalutin gobbledygook, as shown in this cartoon:
But even sincere, intelligent writers can overestimate their readers' knowledge, and this leads to lots of wasted effort.
Pinker discusses the old-fashioned technique of diagramming a sentence. This technique used to be taught in schools, but he shows that the technique is not the best. He introduces a tree technique that focuses not on the parts of speech, but on the internal structure of a sentence and the relationships between its components. The focus is more on clarity, rather than on grammar.
Pinker also puts great stock on the quality of coherence. Do sentences fit together, with one leading logically to the next? Are relationships between ideas written clearly, or are they muddled with sloppy organization? Pinker shows how a writer can organize his ideas and make the reader's job easier.
I learned some fascinating stuff. People confuse the "past tense" with "past time." For example, I learned that the past tense of the words can, will, may, and shall, are could, would, might, and should. Pinker makes it clear when to use one of these words rather than the other. Some rules, like forbidding the use of a preposition at the end of a sentence, or splitting infinitives with an adverb, are simply superstitions. The choice of where to place a preposition, or when to split an infinitive, should depend on clarity and not on someone's say-so.
Throughout the book, there are side-by-side comparisons between sentences showing two options. The version on the left is usually ungrammatical or unclear, while the corrected version on the right is generally a better example. Pinker discusses the reasons why one alternative is better than the other, and the reasons have nothing to do with blindly following rules; the reasons always explain why one version is clearer or more easily understood.
If you are a writer, then you will want to read this book. If you are not a writer, but simply curious about language--as I am--then this book can also feed your curiosity. Highly recommended!
Pinker shows how many writers fall into a wide range of traps. The chief trap is the curse of knowledge. This occurs when a writer assumes that his reader knows as much as himself. Some people believe that opaque writing is a deliberate choice. Pseudo-intellectuals often dress up their writings with "highfalutin gobbledygook, as shown in this cartoon:
But even sincere, intelligent writers can overestimate their readers' knowledge, and this leads to lots of wasted effort.Pinker discusses the old-fashioned technique of diagramming a sentence. This technique used to be taught in schools, but he shows that the technique is not the best. He introduces a tree technique that focuses not on the parts of speech, but on the internal structure of a sentence and the relationships between its components. The focus is more on clarity, rather than on grammar.
Pinker also puts great stock on the quality of coherence. Do sentences fit together, with one leading logically to the next? Are relationships between ideas written clearly, or are they muddled with sloppy organization? Pinker shows how a writer can organize his ideas and make the reader's job easier.
I learned some fascinating stuff. People confuse the "past tense" with "past time." For example, I learned that the past tense of the words can, will, may, and shall, are could, would, might, and should. Pinker makes it clear when to use one of these words rather than the other. Some rules, like forbidding the use of a preposition at the end of a sentence, or splitting infinitives with an adverb, are simply superstitions. The choice of where to place a preposition, or when to split an infinitive, should depend on clarity and not on someone's say-so.
Throughout the book, there are side-by-side comparisons between sentences showing two options. The version on the left is usually ungrammatical or unclear, while the corrected version on the right is generally a better example. Pinker discusses the reasons why one alternative is better than the other, and the reasons have nothing to do with blindly following rules; the reasons always explain why one version is clearer or more easily understood.
If you are a writer, then you will want to read this book. If you are not a writer, but simply curious about language--as I am--then this book can also feed your curiosity. Highly recommended!
January 23, 2015
It started well. Your brain will finish the rest of that sentence.
Or so Steven Pinker explains. The best way to describe this book is as a style guide that relies on neuroscience. Instead of admonishments based on grammar, old rules, and urban myths, Pinker explains the best way to write based on how our brain understand words on a page. Which makes this one of the more readable style guides out there in that it has a purpose instead of just being a list of literary taboos.
But the list of taboos makes an appearance in the last third. And then it becomes just another style guide that's better for reference than for reading. Pinker doesn't provide bad advice here - he comes down in favour of the Oxford comma so I'm already a fan - but the scientific explanations make fewer appearances and the whole thing just becomes a little less interesting. He retains a sense of style throughout, which will carry you, just, to the end.
Also on Twitter
Or so Steven Pinker explains. The best way to describe this book is as a style guide that relies on neuroscience. Instead of admonishments based on grammar, old rules, and urban myths, Pinker explains the best way to write based on how our brain understand words on a page. Which makes this one of the more readable style guides out there in that it has a purpose instead of just being a list of literary taboos.
But the list of taboos makes an appearance in the last third. And then it becomes just another style guide that's better for reference than for reading. Pinker doesn't provide bad advice here - he comes down in favour of the Oxford comma so I'm already a fan - but the scientific explanations make fewer appearances and the whole thing just becomes a little less interesting. He retains a sense of style throughout, which will carry you, just, to the end.
Also on Twitter
April 4, 2018
I was thoroughly charmed by this well-written guide on how to write better. :)
Maybe it's because real language changes. Maybe it's because true clarity comes from the spaces between the words and not absolutely from the rules about the words.
But that's not to say that this cogent discussion on grammar isn't rife with practical examples and great reflection, because it does. It just happens to bring up the fact that one generation's Haberdash is another's charming fireside chat. Moreover, it uses humor, skepticism, and common sense to throw out the grammar nazism and return us back to the firm hand of insight and delight.
For writing should not be a chore.
It should edify, clarify, and wrap us up in a warm comforter and hand us a favorite beverage and ramble on about what it really loved about its day. Am I clear?
Rules are for chumps, yo. But learn them first before you break them. :)
(Advice I think I will always have to take to heart.)
Maybe it's because real language changes. Maybe it's because true clarity comes from the spaces between the words and not absolutely from the rules about the words.
But that's not to say that this cogent discussion on grammar isn't rife with practical examples and great reflection, because it does. It just happens to bring up the fact that one generation's Haberdash is another's charming fireside chat. Moreover, it uses humor, skepticism, and common sense to throw out the grammar nazism and return us back to the firm hand of insight and delight.
For writing should not be a chore.
It should edify, clarify, and wrap us up in a warm comforter and hand us a favorite beverage and ramble on about what it really loved about its day. Am I clear?
Rules are for chumps, yo. But learn them first before you break them. :)
(Advice I think I will always have to take to heart.)
April 21, 2018
Chapter 1 summary:
1. Insist on fresh wording and concrete imagery over familiar verbiage and abstract summary.
2. Pay attention to the readers' vantage point and the target of their gaze.
3. Use the judicious placement of an uncommon word or idiom against a backdrop of simple nouns and verbs.
4. Use parallel syntax.
5. Have an occasional planned surprise.
6. Present a telling detail that obviates an explicit pronouncement.
7. Use meter and sound that resonates with the meaning and mood.
Chapter 2 summary:
1. The author calls attention to habits that "result in soggy prose": metadiscourse, signposting, hedging, apologizing, professional narcissism, cliches, mixed metaphors, metaconcepts, zombie nouns, and unnecessary passives.
2. "The writer, in conversation with a reader, directs the reader's gaze to something in the world." Each of don'ts in #1 make a writer stray.
Chapter 3 summary:
1. Be careful of sharing knowledge that your reader does not understand.
Chapter 4 summary:
1. Learn grammar and syntax.
2. Avoid unnecessary words and phrases.
3. Avoid sentences beginning with "there is" or "it is."
4. That does not mean cutting out every single word that is redundant in context.
5. Make use of structural parallelism and understand its rules.
6. Pull unrelated (but mutually attracted) phrases apart to avoid confusion.
7. Save the heaviest for last in a sentence.
8. "Topic, then comment" or "Given, then new."
Chapter 5 summary:
1. Monologophobia is the fear of using the same word more than once. On the other hand, "elegant variation" is using different words to identify the same thing. Both can be a problem.
2. Coherence is important. A lengthy discussion about this one. For example, it is important NOT to begin with what something is NOT. So after you read this, do NOT think about a white bear.
3. "A coherent text is a designed object."
Chapter 6 summary:
1. An alphabetical list of common problems in grammar. Be sure to read this carefully and follow all suggestions otherwise the planets in our solar system will implode on each other and we will all die. And you do not want to be responsible for that one, do you?
For a book about writing, this was a real slog to plod through.
1. Insist on fresh wording and concrete imagery over familiar verbiage and abstract summary.
2. Pay attention to the readers' vantage point and the target of their gaze.
3. Use the judicious placement of an uncommon word or idiom against a backdrop of simple nouns and verbs.
4. Use parallel syntax.
5. Have an occasional planned surprise.
6. Present a telling detail that obviates an explicit pronouncement.
7. Use meter and sound that resonates with the meaning and mood.
Chapter 2 summary:
1. The author calls attention to habits that "result in soggy prose": metadiscourse, signposting, hedging, apologizing, professional narcissism, cliches, mixed metaphors, metaconcepts, zombie nouns, and unnecessary passives.
2. "The writer, in conversation with a reader, directs the reader's gaze to something in the world." Each of don'ts in #1 make a writer stray.
Chapter 3 summary:
1. Be careful of sharing knowledge that your reader does not understand.
Chapter 4 summary:
1. Learn grammar and syntax.
2. Avoid unnecessary words and phrases.
3. Avoid sentences beginning with "there is" or "it is."
4. That does not mean cutting out every single word that is redundant in context.
5. Make use of structural parallelism and understand its rules.
6. Pull unrelated (but mutually attracted) phrases apart to avoid confusion.
7. Save the heaviest for last in a sentence.
8. "Topic, then comment" or "Given, then new."
Chapter 5 summary:
1. Monologophobia is the fear of using the same word more than once. On the other hand, "elegant variation" is using different words to identify the same thing. Both can be a problem.
2. Coherence is important. A lengthy discussion about this one. For example, it is important NOT to begin with what something is NOT. So after you read this, do NOT think about a white bear.
3. "A coherent text is a designed object."
Chapter 6 summary:
1. An alphabetical list of common problems in grammar. Be sure to read this carefully and follow all suggestions otherwise the planets in our solar system will implode on each other and we will all die. And you do not want to be responsible for that one, do you?
For a book about writing, this was a real slog to plod through.
June 20, 2021
Ante Scriptum. După nota de mai jos am pus o mică bibliografie comentată despre arta scrisului.
Lucrarea lui Pinker nu e neapărat pentru viitorii poeți și prozatori (deși n-ar fi rău să răsfoiască volumul lui Pinker), ci, mai degrabă, pentru jurnaliști și, de ce nu?, pentru bieți eseiști ca subsemnatul.
Subscriu întru totul la una dintre observațiile autorului (poate e cea mai importantă). Un filosof (un „înțelept”, un om de știință etc.) nu e tenebros fiindcă gîndește mai profund decît vulgul profan (noooooo), e tenebros fiindcă și-a propus deliberat asta. Ce-i drept, articolele academice (legendare pentru opacitatea lor) se adresează, de obicei, unui grup microscopic de aleși (filosofii vorbesc filosofilor, lingviștii lingviștilor, hermeneuții hermeneuților ș.a.m.d.). Doar grupul e chemat să intre în întuneric și să-i măsoare adîncimea.
Prost e cînd filosofii se adresează umanității (trecute, prezente și viitoare) în întregul ei. Steven Pinkler încearcă să-i scuze. Savanții ar fi atît de orbiți de ceea ce știu / cunosc / gîndesc, încît nu-și dau seama că știința lor îi depășește pe muritorii de rînd și că discursul lor e o complicație „păsărească”. Ei își ignoră complet publicul. Magistrul abscons nu se uită la studenți. Din păcate, mulți scriu în chipul cel mai încîlcit, fiindcă așa și-au propus din capul locului. Pur și simplu! Scopul lor nu este „trezirea” celorlalți, luminarea. Scopul lor e să-i lase cu gura căscată pe cititori. Să-i stupefieze. În treacăt fie spus, asta se numește impostură.
Reacția cititorului e una singură: „Ai citit, frate? Aici pare a fi ceva foarte adînc. N-am priceput nimic, de aia e așa de adînc”.
Steven Pinkler are dreptate. Un scriitor (scriptor) cinstit e limpede și coerent. Vrea să-i convingă pe cititori și nu să-i umilească. Stilul lui adaugă frumusețe lumii: „Style adds beauty to the world”...
Bibliografie
1. Umberto Eco, Cum se face o teză de licenţă: disciplinele umaniste, traducere de George Popescu, Iaşi: Polirom, 2006, 2020, 264p.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
2. Stephen King, Misterul Regelui. Despre scris, traducere de Mircea Pricăjan, București: Editura Nemira, 2016, 280p.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
3. Howard Mittelmark & Sandra Newman, Cum să NU scrii un roman: Arta greșelilor, traducere de Bogdan-Alexandru Stănescu, București: Baroque Books & Arts, 2014, 310p.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
4. Anne Lamott, Cum înveți să scrii ficțiune pas cu pas. Sugestii despre scris si viață, traducere de Ileana Ioniţă-Iancu, Pitești: Paralela 45, 2013.
5. Mario Vargas Llosa, Scrisori către un tînăr romancier, traducere de Mihai Cantuniari, București: Humanitas, 2010, 144p.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
6. William Zinsser, Cum să scriem bine: Ghidul clasic pentru scriitorii de nonficţiune, traducere de Amalia Mărăşescu, Piteşti: Paralela 45, 2013, 224p.
Lucrarea lui Pinker nu e neapărat pentru viitorii poeți și prozatori (deși n-ar fi rău să răsfoiască volumul lui Pinker), ci, mai degrabă, pentru jurnaliști și, de ce nu?, pentru bieți eseiști ca subsemnatul.
Subscriu întru totul la una dintre observațiile autorului (poate e cea mai importantă). Un filosof (un „înțelept”, un om de știință etc.) nu e tenebros fiindcă gîndește mai profund decît vulgul profan (noooooo), e tenebros fiindcă și-a propus deliberat asta. Ce-i drept, articolele academice (legendare pentru opacitatea lor) se adresează, de obicei, unui grup microscopic de aleși (filosofii vorbesc filosofilor, lingviștii lingviștilor, hermeneuții hermeneuților ș.a.m.d.). Doar grupul e chemat să intre în întuneric și să-i măsoare adîncimea.
Prost e cînd filosofii se adresează umanității (trecute, prezente și viitoare) în întregul ei. Steven Pinkler încearcă să-i scuze. Savanții ar fi atît de orbiți de ceea ce știu / cunosc / gîndesc, încît nu-și dau seama că știința lor îi depășește pe muritorii de rînd și că discursul lor e o complicație „păsărească”. Ei își ignoră complet publicul. Magistrul abscons nu se uită la studenți. Din păcate, mulți scriu în chipul cel mai încîlcit, fiindcă așa și-au propus din capul locului. Pur și simplu! Scopul lor nu este „trezirea” celorlalți, luminarea. Scopul lor e să-i lase cu gura căscată pe cititori. Să-i stupefieze. În treacăt fie spus, asta se numește impostură.
Reacția cititorului e una singură: „Ai citit, frate? Aici pare a fi ceva foarte adînc. N-am priceput nimic, de aia e așa de adînc”.
Steven Pinkler are dreptate. Un scriitor (scriptor) cinstit e limpede și coerent. Vrea să-i convingă pe cititori și nu să-i umilească. Stilul lui adaugă frumusețe lumii: „Style adds beauty to the world”...
Bibliografie
1. Umberto Eco, Cum se face o teză de licenţă: disciplinele umaniste, traducere de George Popescu, Iaşi: Polirom, 2006, 2020, 264p.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
2. Stephen King, Misterul Regelui. Despre scris, traducere de Mircea Pricăjan, București: Editura Nemira, 2016, 280p.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
3. Howard Mittelmark & Sandra Newman, Cum să NU scrii un roman: Arta greșelilor, traducere de Bogdan-Alexandru Stănescu, București: Baroque Books & Arts, 2014, 310p.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
4. Anne Lamott, Cum înveți să scrii ficțiune pas cu pas. Sugestii despre scris si viață, traducere de Ileana Ioniţă-Iancu, Pitești: Paralela 45, 2013.
5. Mario Vargas Llosa, Scrisori către un tînăr romancier, traducere de Mihai Cantuniari, București: Humanitas, 2010, 144p.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
6. William Zinsser, Cum să scriem bine: Ghidul clasic pentru scriitorii de nonficţiune, traducere de Amalia Mărăşescu, Piteşti: Paralela 45, 2013, 224p.
June 7, 2016
I’ve long admired Pinker’s poise with the pen. Both The Blank Slate and The Language Instinct (the two books of his I’d before read) are, in my opinion at least, conspicuously well-written. Popular science is, contrary to what one might expect, a difficult genre; the writer must take complex ideas from esoteric subjects—ideas usually mired in technical terminology—and release them from their provincial prisons. Added to this complicated task of exegesis, the writer of popular science must also work hard to entertain; for popular science, like popular music, isn’t a success unless it sells. So when I heard that Pinker had just come out with a style guide, I quite naturally noticed; as I am in perfect agreement with Pinker when he says:
So, with my usual overblown expectations, I cracked open the pages of this book, hoping to hear secrets from a professional. I will spoil the surprise and say that I was a bit disappointed; the book was quite good, but could have been much better. So allow me, if you will, to go through it chapter by chapter, noting the good, the bad, and the boring.
This book starts out strong. Pinker acknowledges what I wish more style guides would: that the foundation of good writing is not abiding by “proper” grammar, nor mastering some rhetorical tricks, but is simply being a sensitive reader. In this vein, Pinker chooses four examples of good writing, and pulls them apart, providing us with a quick glimpse inside Pinker’s readerly mind. (Speaking for myself, I think I’ve learned more about the art of writing from acquiring the habit of writing down attractive quotations than from all of the style guides put together.) Pinker also acknowledges something that many guides do not address: that most guides are not properly guides to writing, but to revising. Perhaps there are some who naturally speak in balanced phrases and arresting metaphors; but for most of us, elegance is a product of careful reworking, of obsessive rewriting, of assiduous editing.
Pinker’s next two chapters are also strong. First, he discusses a certain philosophy of style: Classic Style. This view is guided by two metaphors: conversation and vision. The writer of classic prose treats the reader as a conversation partner—that is, as an equal. Thus, new information is not presented as oracular pronouncements, but as a guiding of the reader’s eye to previously unexamined bits of terrain—just like one might tell an interesting factoid to a friend. The implication is that the knowledge was there all along, and that the reader only needed the kindly writer to direct his gaze. It is unsurprising that Pinker chooses this view to endorse; this style is well-suited for popular nonfiction (and book reviews), what with its emphasis on concreteness, simplicity, and directness. Of course, no philosophy of style could embrace all genres (imagine how boring the world would be if everyone wrote like Pinker?). With that caveat on mind, I thought this view, and Pinker’s presentation of it, very attractive.
Next, Pinker discusses what he calls the Curse of Knowledge. This is simply the difficulty that we all have in imagining what it's like not to know something we do know. This has been proven in experiment, but daily life is full of copious examples: how many times have instructions from a teacher or a boss struck you as ambiguous, vague, confusing? People aren't good at giving instructions because they aren't good at imagining what it's like to need instructions for something they know how to do. And even when people are made aware of this tendency—namely, the tendency to assume that other people are aware of the same knowledge as are you—they aren’t very good at making the leap to clarity. The only remedy, Pinker suggests, is an outside editor: “Social psychologists have found that we are overconfident, sometimes to the point of delusion, about our ability to infer what other people think, even the people who are closest to us. Only when we ask those people do we discover that what’s obvious to us isn’t obvious to them. That’s why professional writers have editors.” (Speaking for myself again, it’s an alarming experience to have somebody single out a sentence as being obscure, which you found, after copious editing, to be clear as day.)
The next chapter is where the book petered out. Pinker, perhaps himself suffering from the curse of knowledge, launches into an explanation of the tree-like nature of grammatical relationships. For readers of The Language Instinct, this will be partially old ground. His presentation here, however, is somehow less compelling. The tree diagrams struck me as unnecessary; I don’t need a picture to understand why “The impact, which theories of economics predict are bound to be felt sooner or later, could be enormous” is wrong. Further, I don’t need tree diagrams to understand the utility of passive voice, or why sentences like this one, penned by Bob Dole, should be avoided: “The view that beating a third-rate Serbian military that for the third time in a decade is brutally targeting civilians is hardly worth the effort is not based on a lack of understanding of what is occurring on the ground.” In short, in Pinker's attempt to make the subject of grammar more clear using linguistics, his explanations became tiresome and superfluous.
With chapter 5, the book begins to be interesting once more. Here, Pinker discusses the art of composition on a larger scale—how to put ideas into an orderly succession, how to signal transitions of topic, etc. He has some sensible things to say, but nothing very new, I’m afraid. It is, however, inevitable that there be a large degree of overlap between style guides. Good writing is, of course, various in style and form; but certain lessons are basic, such as how to arrange points coherently.
Then we get to the final chapter, which occupies almost half the book. I predict that this chapter will be either the most useful or the most tedious for readers: if you write often, this will seem like the real meat; but if you don’t, it will seem pointless and pedantic. What Pinker does here is disassemble, point by point, many of the bugbears and hobgoblins of purists, such as the proverbial split infinitive. These rules, as Pinker points out, are usually based on linguistic and historical ignorance, adopted only because their proponents have been vituperative and vocal, not because the rules were reflective of good writing. I personally feel a kind of Schadenfreude seeing Pinker make know-it-alls sound like fools, but perhaps I am just particularly sadistic. Pinker is, however, careful to make a subtle point: just because there are some bad rules, doesn’t mean that all rules should be flouted:
So Pinker is not saying there are no rules to language, and no common characteristics to good writing; all he is saying is that these rules and advice should be based on evidence, not ignorance. Clearly, if Pinker didn’t think there were any common characteristics of good writing, he wouldn’t write a style guide. (And, while I’m at it, if he didn’t think that cultural and environmental influences were important—as some people who accuse him of being a genetic deterministic claim—then he wouldn’t write a style guide, either.)
Style guides are stuck in a bit of a paradox. This book is aimed at somebody who reads and writes habitually; it is full of technical advice for the frequent practitioner. Thus, Pinker isn't working as hard to be as entertaining as in his other books, so the tone is somewhat more dry than in, say, The Blank Slate; this quite naturally restricts his readership to a subset of those who often write. On the other hand, if you read and write much, Pinker won’t say much that is surprising; frequent practice gives one a feel for the correct and the spurious rule, the elegant and the jumbled grammatical form. Thus, Pinker is in the odd position of delivering a sermon to a congregation of priests: the nonwriter will be bored because the advice is irrelevant, and the writer will be bored because the advice is old news.
But I'll admit that Pinker did clear up some things I was a bit shaky on. For example, the rules governing singular and plural can get a little hairy. We say “The mac and cheese is,” but “Fred and Joe are”—because mac and cheese is treated as one thing, whereas Fred and Joe are two separate things. But what about phrases less common than mac and cheese, such as “flora and fauna”? I recently encountered this very problem when writing a review of Darwin’s Voyage of the Beagle: I was unsure whether to say “the flora and fauna is,” or “the flora and fauna are.” Are they two separate things, or one inclusive thing like mac and cheese? Or consider other ambiguous cases, like with the word “or.” What’s better: “Was the bicycle or the scooters damaged?” or “Were the bicycle or the scooters damaged?” Both sound a bit odd to me.
Perhaps the biggest drawback of this book, aside from the tree diagrams, was simply the formatting. It’s laid out like a work of popular science, not a work of reference; thus, it would be fairly tedious to look up any specific questions one had. For that reason, I can’t see it becoming terribly influential; writers can’t point to a specific bullet-point or principle in order to debate punctilious copy-editors. That’s a shame, because Pinker has some really useful things to say on the subject. Writing is hard enough without dogmatic pedants screaming in your ear. But while I don't think this book is destined for classic status, it is still certainly worth reading. Pinker manages to present a nuanced, evidence-based view of grammar, while upholding the values that all careful readers and writers hold dear: consistency, clarity, and grace.
I love style manuals. Ever since I was assigned Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style in an introductory psychology course, the writing guide has been among my favorite literary genres. It’s not just that I welcome advice on the lifelong challenge of perfecting the craft of writing. It’s also that credible guidance on writing must itself be well written, and the best of the manuals are paragons of their own advice.
So, with my usual overblown expectations, I cracked open the pages of this book, hoping to hear secrets from a professional. I will spoil the surprise and say that I was a bit disappointed; the book was quite good, but could have been much better. So allow me, if you will, to go through it chapter by chapter, noting the good, the bad, and the boring.
This book starts out strong. Pinker acknowledges what I wish more style guides would: that the foundation of good writing is not abiding by “proper” grammar, nor mastering some rhetorical tricks, but is simply being a sensitive reader. In this vein, Pinker chooses four examples of good writing, and pulls them apart, providing us with a quick glimpse inside Pinker’s readerly mind. (Speaking for myself, I think I’ve learned more about the art of writing from acquiring the habit of writing down attractive quotations than from all of the style guides put together.) Pinker also acknowledges something that many guides do not address: that most guides are not properly guides to writing, but to revising. Perhaps there are some who naturally speak in balanced phrases and arresting metaphors; but for most of us, elegance is a product of careful reworking, of obsessive rewriting, of assiduous editing.
Pinker’s next two chapters are also strong. First, he discusses a certain philosophy of style: Classic Style. This view is guided by two metaphors: conversation and vision. The writer of classic prose treats the reader as a conversation partner—that is, as an equal. Thus, new information is not presented as oracular pronouncements, but as a guiding of the reader’s eye to previously unexamined bits of terrain—just like one might tell an interesting factoid to a friend. The implication is that the knowledge was there all along, and that the reader only needed the kindly writer to direct his gaze. It is unsurprising that Pinker chooses this view to endorse; this style is well-suited for popular nonfiction (and book reviews), what with its emphasis on concreteness, simplicity, and directness. Of course, no philosophy of style could embrace all genres (imagine how boring the world would be if everyone wrote like Pinker?). With that caveat on mind, I thought this view, and Pinker’s presentation of it, very attractive.
Next, Pinker discusses what he calls the Curse of Knowledge. This is simply the difficulty that we all have in imagining what it's like not to know something we do know. This has been proven in experiment, but daily life is full of copious examples: how many times have instructions from a teacher or a boss struck you as ambiguous, vague, confusing? People aren't good at giving instructions because they aren't good at imagining what it's like to need instructions for something they know how to do. And even when people are made aware of this tendency—namely, the tendency to assume that other people are aware of the same knowledge as are you—they aren’t very good at making the leap to clarity. The only remedy, Pinker suggests, is an outside editor: “Social psychologists have found that we are overconfident, sometimes to the point of delusion, about our ability to infer what other people think, even the people who are closest to us. Only when we ask those people do we discover that what’s obvious to us isn’t obvious to them. That’s why professional writers have editors.” (Speaking for myself again, it’s an alarming experience to have somebody single out a sentence as being obscure, which you found, after copious editing, to be clear as day.)
The next chapter is where the book petered out. Pinker, perhaps himself suffering from the curse of knowledge, launches into an explanation of the tree-like nature of grammatical relationships. For readers of The Language Instinct, this will be partially old ground. His presentation here, however, is somehow less compelling. The tree diagrams struck me as unnecessary; I don’t need a picture to understand why “The impact, which theories of economics predict are bound to be felt sooner or later, could be enormous” is wrong. Further, I don’t need tree diagrams to understand the utility of passive voice, or why sentences like this one, penned by Bob Dole, should be avoided: “The view that beating a third-rate Serbian military that for the third time in a decade is brutally targeting civilians is hardly worth the effort is not based on a lack of understanding of what is occurring on the ground.” In short, in Pinker's attempt to make the subject of grammar more clear using linguistics, his explanations became tiresome and superfluous.
With chapter 5, the book begins to be interesting once more. Here, Pinker discusses the art of composition on a larger scale—how to put ideas into an orderly succession, how to signal transitions of topic, etc. He has some sensible things to say, but nothing very new, I’m afraid. It is, however, inevitable that there be a large degree of overlap between style guides. Good writing is, of course, various in style and form; but certain lessons are basic, such as how to arrange points coherently.
Then we get to the final chapter, which occupies almost half the book. I predict that this chapter will be either the most useful or the most tedious for readers: if you write often, this will seem like the real meat; but if you don’t, it will seem pointless and pedantic. What Pinker does here is disassemble, point by point, many of the bugbears and hobgoblins of purists, such as the proverbial split infinitive. These rules, as Pinker points out, are usually based on linguistic and historical ignorance, adopted only because their proponents have been vituperative and vocal, not because the rules were reflective of good writing. I personally feel a kind of Schadenfreude seeing Pinker make know-it-alls sound like fools, but perhaps I am just particularly sadistic. Pinker is, however, careful to make a subtle point: just because there are some bad rules, doesn’t mean that all rules should be flouted:
Phony rules, which proliferate like urban legends and are just as hard to eradicate, are responsible for vast amounts of ham-fisted copyediting and smarty-pants one-upmanship. Yet when language scholars try to debunk the spurious rules, the dichotomizing mindset imagines that they are trying to abolish all standards of good writing. It is as if anyone who proposed repealing a stupid law, like the one forbidding interracial marriage, must be a black-cloaked, bomb-clutching anarchist.
So Pinker is not saying there are no rules to language, and no common characteristics to good writing; all he is saying is that these rules and advice should be based on evidence, not ignorance. Clearly, if Pinker didn’t think there were any common characteristics of good writing, he wouldn’t write a style guide. (And, while I’m at it, if he didn’t think that cultural and environmental influences were important—as some people who accuse him of being a genetic deterministic claim—then he wouldn’t write a style guide, either.)
Style guides are stuck in a bit of a paradox. This book is aimed at somebody who reads and writes habitually; it is full of technical advice for the frequent practitioner. Thus, Pinker isn't working as hard to be as entertaining as in his other books, so the tone is somewhat more dry than in, say, The Blank Slate; this quite naturally restricts his readership to a subset of those who often write. On the other hand, if you read and write much, Pinker won’t say much that is surprising; frequent practice gives one a feel for the correct and the spurious rule, the elegant and the jumbled grammatical form. Thus, Pinker is in the odd position of delivering a sermon to a congregation of priests: the nonwriter will be bored because the advice is irrelevant, and the writer will be bored because the advice is old news.
But I'll admit that Pinker did clear up some things I was a bit shaky on. For example, the rules governing singular and plural can get a little hairy. We say “The mac and cheese is,” but “Fred and Joe are”—because mac and cheese is treated as one thing, whereas Fred and Joe are two separate things. But what about phrases less common than mac and cheese, such as “flora and fauna”? I recently encountered this very problem when writing a review of Darwin’s Voyage of the Beagle: I was unsure whether to say “the flora and fauna is,” or “the flora and fauna are.” Are they two separate things, or one inclusive thing like mac and cheese? Or consider other ambiguous cases, like with the word “or.” What’s better: “Was the bicycle or the scooters damaged?” or “Were the bicycle or the scooters damaged?” Both sound a bit odd to me.
Perhaps the biggest drawback of this book, aside from the tree diagrams, was simply the formatting. It’s laid out like a work of popular science, not a work of reference; thus, it would be fairly tedious to look up any specific questions one had. For that reason, I can’t see it becoming terribly influential; writers can’t point to a specific bullet-point or principle in order to debate punctilious copy-editors. That’s a shame, because Pinker has some really useful things to say on the subject. Writing is hard enough without dogmatic pedants screaming in your ear. But while I don't think this book is destined for classic status, it is still certainly worth reading. Pinker manages to present a nuanced, evidence-based view of grammar, while upholding the values that all careful readers and writers hold dear: consistency, clarity, and grace.
January 2, 2023
As part of my studies, this past semester I had to take an English writing class. Pinker's book The Sense of Style was part of the assigned readings. Throughout the semester we would do feedback loops of the writing process for increasingly demanding essays. And in the middle of the semester, I wrote my worst essay. Initially, I thought it was pretty clever. I had compressed a swath of ideas into the minimum word count while meeting the requirements. The professor, in their wisdom, did not think so. They explained why, and offered the opportunity to rewrite it. This is what led me to actually read this whole book rather than skimming the few selections we were assigned.
When I had started the course, and the book, what I had noticed immediately was that English writing fit squarely in much of what I believed: this is just applied epistemology, philosophy of language, and logic. Easy peasy I thought. It is the creation, transmission, or expenditure of truth. Language is just the channel through which this was done. And the goal is to most efficiently communicate things, but also balance this with making sure the things that are communicated are worthwhile or effective. However, this is easier said than done.
In this review, I shall share that original essay, use the lessons of Pinker to point out areas of improvement, and explain some of what I learned. And please, feel free to critique this essay as well (because while I am fairly certain Steven Pinker lives within a mile from me, I do not wish to share this with him for fear he would be left aghast)
Prompt: essentially, to write anything related to individuality versus society, reference the essay Disciplining the Individual by Patrick Miller and three other sources, and be at least 1000 words.
The Perfect Citizen, But The Nonexistent Individual by Xeon
Now, you must understand: Coming in, the developmental capacities of young Xeon were stagnant. He had trouble referring to himself in his own writing. He keenly tried to speak only of facts. He avoided using his beliefs and deferred to the words of authority figures. He utilized theory much. He did not care about pandering to readers. He placed the burden of connections and background information on the reader.
But, Pinker swiftly corrected all this.
My favorite quotes include the following (but trust me, there are a lot of other tips in the book):
Pinker advocates for something called the Classical style. Being a researcher, he would use evidence from cognitive psychology to support claims as well as experiences and examples of bad academic or technical writing to contrast with. Both aspects uniquely resonated with me.
Even for technical writing, my essay is not written well. And it really need not be that way. Here's why:
I wish I could share my other essays, because I really did improve and had an excellent comeback. But this review is becoming too long as it is.
The book, overall, was very useful. I wonder if I am one of the few readers who got the most out of it, because the advice and instruction were peculiarly useful for me. Admittedly, I think I was in dire need of repair: reading textbooks and old texts has tainted me, and I had forgotten the very language of our times. I ascended from the abyss I was in, to a new light that I knew not of. And for that, I am grateful.
When I had started the course, and the book, what I had noticed immediately was that English writing fit squarely in much of what I believed: this is just applied epistemology, philosophy of language, and logic. Easy peasy I thought. It is the creation, transmission, or expenditure of truth. Language is just the channel through which this was done. And the goal is to most efficiently communicate things, but also balance this with making sure the things that are communicated are worthwhile or effective. However, this is easier said than done.
In this review, I shall share that original essay, use the lessons of Pinker to point out areas of improvement, and explain some of what I learned. And please, feel free to critique this essay as well (because while I am fairly certain Steven Pinker lives within a mile from me, I do not wish to share this with him for fear he would be left aghast)
Prompt: essentially, to write anything related to individuality versus society, reference the essay Disciplining the Individual by Patrick Miller and three other sources, and be at least 1000 words.
The Perfect Citizen, But The Nonexistent Individual by Xeon
Let us consider a thought experiment. Imagine, a person who forgets their desires and needs to live only in accordance with the laws of their region. Specifically, they use rules and laws as a paradigm of what actions to do, and thus use them to test the limits of such constraints. This would be their sole purpose, the activity to which they spend all their time upon. Then, doing the same thing for, say, different ethical paradigms. As shall be seen, such a thought experiment would yield paradoxes or inefficiencies, but also permits the extraction of the societal properties which individuals suffer from, benefit from, or can leverage.
There are similar real world instances of this. For example, it could be argued labs and scientists live in accordance with but at the limits of reality. By virtue of this, they discover new truths of reality. Furthermore, living under an authoritarian government may be analogously similar. On the same line of reasoning, such a thought experiment would yield new truths for the functioning of society itself. For example, to do so in regards to laws might demonstrate existing contradictions within domains of law or interesting permutations of constraints that make up singular circumstances (such as ill-fortuned individuals), and thus that these laws and rules may be in need of reformation. In the context of ethics, it would be difficult since these are subjective and up to the individual. Nonetheless, one way such could be performed is that the constant interpretation of whatever chosen ethical systems to every single action may yield ambiguities within the theories. Alternatively, since many ethical theories are seemingly compatible or overlap with each other, interpreting and applying the ethical systems to every single action may yield ambiguities amongst theories. Lastly, what could be demonstrated is how the degree to which the deontological ideals of a given means of living can not be consistently fulfilled in the backdrop of balancing other practical duties. Such were the findings of a stunt journalist when trying to live as literally to the Bible and as the most healthy person possible (Jacobs 2007; Jacobs 2012).
More specifically, to analyze the ramifications and nuances of such a thought experiment, an attribute presents itself. This is that there are multiple layers and spheres in which rules are circumscribed, dynamically constraining the individual. For example, from the international level, national level, state level, and local level of laws. Then there are also different rules or policies at specific institutions, such as school as a student, at the company one is an employee at, or the business one is a customer at. Strongly tied, though not necessarily always the same, is that of geographical locations. For example, take the case of embassies or consulates, specially sanctioned buildings within countries. By simply stepping into the premises of such, one can garner various international protections (United Nations 1963). Here the point that may be observed is that whether by socially construed institutions or physically existent locations, these combine to create specific contexts as preconditions which if fulfilled, then certain things should or should not be conducted. Here, the most intriguing distinction is that either laws or ethics can be written in the manner of negative or positive instantiations such as “If X, do not Y” or “If X, do Y.” Thus, to assimilate the aforementioned, an individual is simply the remainder of thousands of dynamically activating conditional statements; an individual is the remainder after social rules.
However, social rules can also be the very thing which best permits the potential flourishing of individuals. From others’ specialization, comparative advantages, and economies of scale, the pie grows larger for everyone (Mankiw 2021). Or as it is said, “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” Furthermore, the purpose of formal or informal rules may be said to be because of a prisoner’s dilemma (Poundstone 1993). However in this case it would not be a two player game, but an eight billion player game (United Nations 2022). Whereby for the long term equilibrium of society, it is best for everyone to abide by the same rules, which also happens to be the most mutually beneficial. This can be seen whereby preexisting social institutions, incrementally improved over time, perpetuate into the future via socialization by cycling through their constituent members: society is but one large Ship of Theseus, and individuals reap the benefits from the labor of those who came before them.
The issue is, the very benefit of social institutions can be their flaw. The manifest functions of robustness via cultural reproduction has the latent dysfunction of resilience to change (Merton 1957; Taleb 2012). So, “Every time you see an injustice or an inefficiency or an abnormality” you can in fact only “wish that there were someone or something” (Miller 2019). For it becomes evident it is difficult to correct issues of the system without copious amounts of resources and time. The most one can often do is either attempt to influence those in key positions of power, or conduct their influence by virtue of second order effects via other endeavors.
How then can individuals most flourish? The solution for both a life of excess stringency to rules as well as objective systemic change is that of balance (and action, of course). Whether as best originally posited as the golden mean in Western philosophy or tao in Eastern philosophy, a more specific, but modern and technical, instantiation of this would be that of optimizations from math. For even in the jungle of the constraints and confines of society, there is hope. One simply need be creative. This is balance at its truest; when one can effortlessly glide through, find gaps within, or take advantage of the existing structures of society. If society truly can be symbolically represented as but sets of conditional statements, what is physically possible yet socially unaddressed? Such as how there are hidden gem locations in cities around the world, how the guise of setting up an entity can provide individuals additional rights and protections, how a corporation can have its own county and surrogate city where it even provides the infrastructure, or how certain individuals can travel anywhere in the world anytime without the need of visas. Regardless of whatever predicament, the other more underlying solution is, as always, to work on oneself to the degree that is possible. For as famed Russian writer Leo Tolstoy once put it, “Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.”
Works Cited
Jacobs, A. J. Drop Dead Healthy: One Man's Humble Quest for Bodily Perfection. Simon &
Schuster, 2012.
Jacobs, A. J. The Year of Living Biblically. Simon & Schuster, 2007.
Mankiw, Nicholas Gregory. Principles of Economics. Cengage Learning, 2021.
Miller, Patrick Lee. Disciplining the Individual. Medium, Arc Digital, 29 March 2019,
https://medium.com/arc-digital/discip....
Merton, Robert King. Social Theory and Social Structure. Free Press, 1957.
Poundstone, William. Prisoner's Dilemma. Anchor Books, 1993.
Taleb, Nassim. Antifragile: Things That Gain From Disorder. Random House, 2012.
United Nations. Vienna Convention on Consular Relations. 1963.
https://legal.un.org/ilc/texts/instru....
United Nations. World Population Prospects. 2022.
https://www.un.org/development/desa/p...
Now, you must understand: Coming in, the developmental capacities of young Xeon were stagnant. He had trouble referring to himself in his own writing. He keenly tried to speak only of facts. He avoided using his beliefs and deferred to the words of authority figures. He utilized theory much. He did not care about pandering to readers. He placed the burden of connections and background information on the reader.
But, Pinker swiftly corrected all this.
My favorite quotes include the following (but trust me, there are a lot of other tips in the book):
"As Thomas and Turner note, “When we open a cookbook, we completely put aside—and expect the author to put aside—the kind of question that leads to the heart of certain philosophic and religious traditions. Is it possible to talk about cooking? Do eggs really exist? Is food something about which knowledge is possible? Can anyone else ever tell us anything true about cooking? … Classic style similarly puts aside as inappropriate philosophical questions about its enterprise. If it took those questions up, it could never get around to treating its subject, and its purpose is exclusively to treat its subject.”"
"Classic style is not the same as the common but unhelpful advice to “avoid abstraction.” Sometimes we do have to write about abstract ideas. What classic style does is explain them as if they were objects and forces that would be recognizable to anyone standing in a position to see them."
"Classic writing, with its assumption of equality between writer and reader, makes the reader feel like a genius. Bad writing makes the reader feel like a dunce."
"Could you recognize a “level” or a “perspective” if you met one on the street? Could you point it out to someone else? What about an approach, an assumption, a concept, a condition, a context, a framework, an issue, a model, a process, a range, a role, a strategy, a tendency, or a variable?"
"Often the pronouns I, me, and you are not just harmless but downright helpful. They simulate a conversation, as classic style recommends, and they are gifts to the memory-challenged reader."“"Please, sir; I didn’t do it! It was done! Try to conquer your cowardice, and start your concluding chapter with the creative assertion: Lo! I found …"”
Pinker advocates for something called the Classical style. Being a researcher, he would use evidence from cognitive psychology to support claims as well as experiences and examples of bad academic or technical writing to contrast with. Both aspects uniquely resonated with me.
Even for technical writing, my essay is not written well. And it really need not be that way. Here's why:
1. I could have written a clearer and better thesis statement.
2. For the thought experiment I posit, I should at least have applied it or made it relevant for the normal person. The point is to ask: who cares? And I do not think I really addressed this.
3. For the amount of sociology and economics I mentioned, I should have at least provided examples of each. Besides this, I could have also defined the advanced vocabulary I used along the way. I did neither of these things, thus making it too abstract.
4. Rereading, I do not think I make a reader feel enlightened. I believe it is because I was just throwing up information, rather than walking through it.
5. The quote on identifying something on the street was the most impactful: the questions. I feel like a kid, with an older sibling giving me a tirade. As it relates to this essay, little can be pointed to or has real world referents, or at least I did not even attempt to do so. Once more, I could have used more examples.
6. On the use of pronouns to refer to myself, Pinker explained that it is okay, and in fact helpful in a variety of ways, to refer to oneself and to siphon from one's own experiences. As my professor explained, this is what gives writing our voice, a means of speaking our personal truths.
I wish I could share my other essays, because I really did improve and had an excellent comeback. But this review is becoming too long as it is.
The book, overall, was very useful. I wonder if I am one of the few readers who got the most out of it, because the advice and instruction were peculiarly useful for me. Admittedly, I think I was in dire need of repair: reading textbooks and old texts has tainted me, and I had forgotten the very language of our times. I ascended from the abyss I was in, to a new light that I knew not of. And for that, I am grateful.
February 17, 2021
The Sense of Style was mandatory reading for me and the rest of my tenth-grade English class. We were so dismayed when this was assigned; I remember thinking, “Great! On top of learning grammar in class, now we have to read about it at home too.” I skimmed The Sense of Style and called it a day. (Which is probably why I never realized this book isn’t about grammar. At least, not entirely.)
Years later, I’ve picked this up of my own volition. And I have found Steven Pinker’s style manual to be immensely helpful in articulating and elucidating not only the thornier parts of my own writing—the sentences that sound a smidge off but I can’t pinpoint why—but also the esoteric academic prose I now have to read every day for my master’s degree.
In fact, I’m thinking of sending a copy to each of my professors. Too unsubtle, you think?
Years later, I’ve picked this up of my own volition. And I have found Steven Pinker’s style manual to be immensely helpful in articulating and elucidating not only the thornier parts of my own writing—the sentences that sound a smidge off but I can’t pinpoint why—but also the esoteric academic prose I now have to read every day for my master’s degree.
In fact, I’m thinking of sending a copy to each of my professors. Too unsubtle, you think?
Read
July 23, 2022Pretty good style guide, especially re sentence/structure organisation. The focus is very much on clarity and bringing across what you want to achieve, which means he doesn't indulge in sweeping prescriptivist instructions like "cut unnecessary words"--the point is to consider what words in what order best do the job. A useful corrective to the shibboleth-ridden world of style advice.
March 25, 2018
Steven Pinker has created a writer's guide that is interesting, useful, amusing, and also frustrating.
I enjoyed the first part of this book, but the middle section got bogged down in parsing sentences and grammar exercises. I put the book down and took a week-long break from it, and debated whether to pick it up again. I finally did finish, but it was a slog.
My big takeaways from this book were 1) language is constantly changing, and the English language is so inventive that when the grammar police come hollerin' at you that you've written something wrong, chances are there is a dispute over what is correct. 2) Few things in language are correct, and even then, if enough people adopt that word or style, it may eventually be considered correct. 3) This knowledge won't stop the grammar fussbudgets from complaining that "people used to write better," which is also nonsense. Language and writing are created by mankind, and creative writers love to break the rules, so 4) the fussbudgets need to knock it off, already.
I listened to this book on audio, and I think the boggy sections might have been less frustrating (and easier to skim) if I had read that section in print.
Recommended, with reservations, for those who like writers writing about writing.
Opening Passage
"I love style manuals. Ever since I was assigned Strunk and White's The Elements of Style in an introductory psychology course, the writing guide has been among my favorite literary genres. It's not just that I welcome advice on the lifelong challenge of perfecting the craft of writing. It's also that credible guidance on writing must itself be well written, and the best of the manuals are paragons of their own advice. William Strunk's course notes on writing, which his student E. B. White turned into their famous little book, was studded with gems of self-exemplifcation such as "Write with nouns and verbs," "Put the emphatic words of a sentence at the end," and best of all, his prime directive, "Omit needless words."
I enjoyed the first part of this book, but the middle section got bogged down in parsing sentences and grammar exercises. I put the book down and took a week-long break from it, and debated whether to pick it up again. I finally did finish, but it was a slog.
My big takeaways from this book were 1) language is constantly changing, and the English language is so inventive that when the grammar police come hollerin' at you that you've written something wrong, chances are there is a dispute over what is correct. 2) Few things in language are correct, and even then, if enough people adopt that word or style, it may eventually be considered correct. 3) This knowledge won't stop the grammar fussbudgets from complaining that "people used to write better," which is also nonsense. Language and writing are created by mankind, and creative writers love to break the rules, so 4) the fussbudgets need to knock it off, already.
I listened to this book on audio, and I think the boggy sections might have been less frustrating (and easier to skim) if I had read that section in print.
Recommended, with reservations, for those who like writers writing about writing.
Opening Passage
"I love style manuals. Ever since I was assigned Strunk and White's The Elements of Style in an introductory psychology course, the writing guide has been among my favorite literary genres. It's not just that I welcome advice on the lifelong challenge of perfecting the craft of writing. It's also that credible guidance on writing must itself be well written, and the best of the manuals are paragons of their own advice. William Strunk's course notes on writing, which his student E. B. White turned into their famous little book, was studded with gems of self-exemplifcation such as "Write with nouns and verbs," "Put the emphatic words of a sentence at the end," and best of all, his prime directive, "Omit needless words."
November 15, 2018
Superb book on writing.
October 19, 2019
Świetna książka. Obowiązkowa pozycja w każdej redakcji. Zamierzam zadbać, żeby w mojej redakcji znalazł się egzemplarz, by wszyscy dziennikarze mogli w wolnych chwilach poczytać. Bo w tej książce każdy rozdział, podrozdział czy akapit wnosi coś wartościowego dla kogoś, kto zajmuje się pisaniem (nawet krótkich dziennikarskich form).
Lubię tę książkę między innymi za to, że wyjaśnia w prostych słowach to, co często czuje się intuicyjnie, czytając słabo napisane teksty. Czyta się, widzi się, że coś jest nie halo, nawet wie się co... ale nie bardzo wiadomo, jak to nazwać i wyjaśnić przyczyny. Dzięki tej książce takie intuicje zyskują definicję. A do tego jest oczywiście świetnie napisana a chwilami bardzo dowcipna.
P.S. Nie przeczytałem na razie angielskiego aneksu. We wstępie przeczytałem, że jest specyficznie skierowany do osób piszących po angielsku. Więc ponieważ po angielsku pisuję głównie maile lub SMS-y, więc uznałem, że na razie nie jestem odbiorcą takiego tekstu. Ale może kiedyś do tego wrócę... bo część polskojęzyczną zamierzam podczytywać bardzo często.
Lubię tę książkę między innymi za to, że wyjaśnia w prostych słowach to, co często czuje się intuicyjnie, czytając słabo napisane teksty. Czyta się, widzi się, że coś jest nie halo, nawet wie się co... ale nie bardzo wiadomo, jak to nazwać i wyjaśnić przyczyny. Dzięki tej książce takie intuicje zyskują definicję. A do tego jest oczywiście świetnie napisana a chwilami bardzo dowcipna.
P.S. Nie przeczytałem na razie angielskiego aneksu. We wstępie przeczytałem, że jest specyficznie skierowany do osób piszących po angielsku. Więc ponieważ po angielsku pisuję głównie maile lub SMS-y, więc uznałem, że na razie nie jestem odbiorcą takiego tekstu. Ale może kiedyś do tego wrócę... bo część polskojęzyczną zamierzam podczytywać bardzo często.
June 20, 2022
One thing starts to seem pretty clear early on here: Steven Pinker rarely teaches undergraduates, or at least rarely has to slog through a pile of their written work himself.
No surprises there: professors who are much less famous and fancy than Pinker often teach just a handful of grad students a year and that’s it. Under those conditions you might tend to see most writers as smart, keen, already pretty skilful good-faith actors whose writing is just sadly held back now and then by the foibles of the human mind. As he declares in the handy one-line summary at the beginning of Chapter 3, “The Curse of Knowledge,” Pinker thinks “the main cause of incomprehensible prose is the difficulty of imagining what it’s like for someone else not to know something that you know.” That’s certainly got a role to play much of the time. But speaking as someone who spends an enormous number of his professional hours sifting through and assessing unintelligible prose written by rookie writers, I’m not so sure it’s “the main cause” of incomprehensibility. At least as often, it’s having intentionally troweled on a thick layer of vagueness and bafflegab designed to conceal ignorance, avoid the hard work of thought, and big up the author’s knowledge rather than a struggle with an imprisoning selfhood that blinds us to the sensibilities of others.
Likewise later, in Chapter 5, “Arcs of Knowledge,” where psycholinguist Pinker has all sorts of complicated theories involving trees of linked phrases and elaborate syntactic systems to account for failures to “ensure that readers will grasp the topic, get the point, keep track of the players, and see how one idea follows from another”—when the problem seems at least as likely to be that the confusing writer is simply lazily typing away on autopilot, only half-grasps the topic, doesn’t have good working methods for “keeping track of the players” themselves, and hasn’t yet fully worked out “how one idea follows from another.”
Pinker is proposing interesting alternative accounts of the origins of incomprehensible prose, but these seem like the main writing problems of just a few. They’re interesting, then, but really only of value if Pinker is contentedly preaching to the composition choir rather than trying to teach people how to write. Maybe it’s the fate of style guides like this to preach to that choir in the end, especially books like Pinker’s that aren’t even organized like a coil-bound composition textbook that would allow for looking up specific topics easily, but are instead meant for you to just curl up in your easy chair and read like any other book. One other thing seems pretty clear here, then: while I liked this book and found much of it interesting—especially the earlier, more manageable and much shorter chapters—I wouldn’t dream of giving it to one of my struggling students.
In the long closing chapter, “Telling Right from Wrong” (187-304), there’s something of an abiding claim or point having to do with the need to jettison many sticklers’ rules about usage, but it’s a kind of disorganized mini handbook rather than a chapter, a curio cabinet of entries under category headings. And in this regard it highlights that same fundamental problem with many usage guides, the question of who and what they’re ultimately for. You can’t really look things up here for ad-hoc advice because you must already be in the know to use the chapter that way. Want to sort out whether it’s okay to split an infinitive? There you’re fine, because that’s filed under “split infinitives” (228-30). But if you’re wondering whether it should be She approved of Sheila taking the job or She approved of Sheila’s taking the job, are you master enough of the argot of the grammarian to know that this is found under “fused participles” (212-3)? You’ll need to be—which is to say, you’ll need to know as much as those who don’t need Pinker’s advice to know where to find Pinker’s advice.
And some of the time, you’re probably better off ignoring that advice anyway. I, for one, part company with him almost as often as I’m with him. Take, for example, the section in which he devotes three pages to a weak defense of very unique on the grounds that things are only ever truly unique in certain of their respects, never in all of them. The argument is casuistic, unconvincing, hair-splitting and ultimately beside the point. I know it’s the done thing in style guides now to distance yourself from the fussy prescriptivist Strunks and Whites, loosen your tie, turn your chair around backwards, and have a cool descriptivist real-talk session where you try to be seen tossing out as many of the rules as possible, but defending very unique is just a little too “hey guys it’s Steve your cool grammar uncle” for me. (And I’m not much of a stickler, even when I’m grading essays on the clock.)
All that said, Pinker is at least somewhat serious about protecting the finely tuned technical instrument of language from the destructive power of reckless use. This always seems to me the best kind of argument for prescriptions in the end rather than the silly arbitrariness of etymology, false analogies with Latin, the question of whether Shakespeare or Austen ever did it, to say nothing of the more sinister kinds of usage policing that originate in racism, classism, etc. The English language is robust and various, but we need it for tons of high-precision work, so sometimes we need to sharpen its blades and oil its moving parts. Yes, it’s true: more and more people use literally as an intensifier, for example. But intensifiers are generally empty and weak, and I think we can see that the language is already really rather extremely very absolutely highly totally utterly full of them. But there’s no synonym for literally that precisely captures the “not figuratively but strictly speaking” sense that sticklers advocate reserving the word for. So there are good reasons to protect literally that don’t make a monster, a fool or a fanatic nitpicker of the protector. In the end, Pinker seems to agree, I think, and he does eventually acknowledge the point about bafflegabbers and thoughtless show-offs, too: “When a not-so-careful writer tries to gussy up his prose with an upmarket word that he mistakenly thinks is a synonym of a common one, like simplistic for simple or fulsome for full, his readers are likely to conclude the worst: that he has paid little attention to what he has read, is affecting an air of sophistication on the cheap, and is polluting a common resource” (198).
Amen—all that sentence needs is the singular “they” (255-62).
No surprises there: professors who are much less famous and fancy than Pinker often teach just a handful of grad students a year and that’s it. Under those conditions you might tend to see most writers as smart, keen, already pretty skilful good-faith actors whose writing is just sadly held back now and then by the foibles of the human mind. As he declares in the handy one-line summary at the beginning of Chapter 3, “The Curse of Knowledge,” Pinker thinks “the main cause of incomprehensible prose is the difficulty of imagining what it’s like for someone else not to know something that you know.” That’s certainly got a role to play much of the time. But speaking as someone who spends an enormous number of his professional hours sifting through and assessing unintelligible prose written by rookie writers, I’m not so sure it’s “the main cause” of incomprehensibility. At least as often, it’s having intentionally troweled on a thick layer of vagueness and bafflegab designed to conceal ignorance, avoid the hard work of thought, and big up the author’s knowledge rather than a struggle with an imprisoning selfhood that blinds us to the sensibilities of others.
Likewise later, in Chapter 5, “Arcs of Knowledge,” where psycholinguist Pinker has all sorts of complicated theories involving trees of linked phrases and elaborate syntactic systems to account for failures to “ensure that readers will grasp the topic, get the point, keep track of the players, and see how one idea follows from another”—when the problem seems at least as likely to be that the confusing writer is simply lazily typing away on autopilot, only half-grasps the topic, doesn’t have good working methods for “keeping track of the players” themselves, and hasn’t yet fully worked out “how one idea follows from another.”
Pinker is proposing interesting alternative accounts of the origins of incomprehensible prose, but these seem like the main writing problems of just a few. They’re interesting, then, but really only of value if Pinker is contentedly preaching to the composition choir rather than trying to teach people how to write. Maybe it’s the fate of style guides like this to preach to that choir in the end, especially books like Pinker’s that aren’t even organized like a coil-bound composition textbook that would allow for looking up specific topics easily, but are instead meant for you to just curl up in your easy chair and read like any other book. One other thing seems pretty clear here, then: while I liked this book and found much of it interesting—especially the earlier, more manageable and much shorter chapters—I wouldn’t dream of giving it to one of my struggling students.
In the long closing chapter, “Telling Right from Wrong” (187-304), there’s something of an abiding claim or point having to do with the need to jettison many sticklers’ rules about usage, but it’s a kind of disorganized mini handbook rather than a chapter, a curio cabinet of entries under category headings. And in this regard it highlights that same fundamental problem with many usage guides, the question of who and what they’re ultimately for. You can’t really look things up here for ad-hoc advice because you must already be in the know to use the chapter that way. Want to sort out whether it’s okay to split an infinitive? There you’re fine, because that’s filed under “split infinitives” (228-30). But if you’re wondering whether it should be She approved of Sheila taking the job or She approved of Sheila’s taking the job, are you master enough of the argot of the grammarian to know that this is found under “fused participles” (212-3)? You’ll need to be—which is to say, you’ll need to know as much as those who don’t need Pinker’s advice to know where to find Pinker’s advice.
And some of the time, you’re probably better off ignoring that advice anyway. I, for one, part company with him almost as often as I’m with him. Take, for example, the section in which he devotes three pages to a weak defense of very unique on the grounds that things are only ever truly unique in certain of their respects, never in all of them. The argument is casuistic, unconvincing, hair-splitting and ultimately beside the point. I know it’s the done thing in style guides now to distance yourself from the fussy prescriptivist Strunks and Whites, loosen your tie, turn your chair around backwards, and have a cool descriptivist real-talk session where you try to be seen tossing out as many of the rules as possible, but defending very unique is just a little too “hey guys it’s Steve your cool grammar uncle” for me. (And I’m not much of a stickler, even when I’m grading essays on the clock.)
All that said, Pinker is at least somewhat serious about protecting the finely tuned technical instrument of language from the destructive power of reckless use. This always seems to me the best kind of argument for prescriptions in the end rather than the silly arbitrariness of etymology, false analogies with Latin, the question of whether Shakespeare or Austen ever did it, to say nothing of the more sinister kinds of usage policing that originate in racism, classism, etc. The English language is robust and various, but we need it for tons of high-precision work, so sometimes we need to sharpen its blades and oil its moving parts. Yes, it’s true: more and more people use literally as an intensifier, for example. But intensifiers are generally empty and weak, and I think we can see that the language is already really rather extremely very absolutely highly totally utterly full of them. But there’s no synonym for literally that precisely captures the “not figuratively but strictly speaking” sense that sticklers advocate reserving the word for. So there are good reasons to protect literally that don’t make a monster, a fool or a fanatic nitpicker of the protector. In the end, Pinker seems to agree, I think, and he does eventually acknowledge the point about bafflegabbers and thoughtless show-offs, too: “When a not-so-careful writer tries to gussy up his prose with an upmarket word that he mistakenly thinks is a synonym of a common one, like simplistic for simple or fulsome for full, his readers are likely to conclude the worst: that he has paid little attention to what he has read, is affecting an air of sophistication on the cheap, and is polluting a common resource” (198).
Amen—all that sentence needs is the singular “they” (255-62).
July 16, 2017
Having just embarked on a fairly intensive writing course, I asked my mentor for some recommendations of books on the craft of writing. This book, "The Sense of Style" was at the top of his list, and I can see why.
The author, Steven Pinker, is a Psychology professor at Harvard, and has also done much research on language and cognition (he's described as a Cognitive Scientist). Further, he is chair of the Usage Panel of The American Heritage Dictionary. And it shows. All of it. He has written a very readable, engaging, and entertaining manual on writing, providing a wealth of information which will help anyone write better prose. He also goes into considerable detail on the mechanics of good writing, including syntax, noun piles, quantifiers, remote conditionals .... you get the idea.
Even though he goes quite deep on the technical side, he is very generous with clear, helpful examples of everything, a good many of which are laugh out loud funny. I found the book to be a solid 4 or 4.5, but the final chapter, "Telling Right From Wrong", was a lengthy and very practical compendium of many additional illustrations and applications that took it to a 5. If you are interested in becoming a better writer, you will benefit from this book!
The author, Steven Pinker, is a Psychology professor at Harvard, and has also done much research on language and cognition (he's described as a Cognitive Scientist). Further, he is chair of the Usage Panel of The American Heritage Dictionary. And it shows. All of it. He has written a very readable, engaging, and entertaining manual on writing, providing a wealth of information which will help anyone write better prose. He also goes into considerable detail on the mechanics of good writing, including syntax, noun piles, quantifiers, remote conditionals .... you get the idea.
Even though he goes quite deep on the technical side, he is very generous with clear, helpful examples of everything, a good many of which are laugh out loud funny. I found the book to be a solid 4 or 4.5, but the final chapter, "Telling Right From Wrong", was a lengthy and very practical compendium of many additional illustrations and applications that took it to a 5. If you are interested in becoming a better writer, you will benefit from this book!
August 20, 2021
What up, word nerds! If you find yourself contemplating the finer points of sentence structure, word usage, and punctuation (and especially if you spend time correcting the speech and writing of others), this is the book for you. Steven Pinker is a polymath who writes on language, cognitive psychology and a host of scientific topics: here he applies his erudition and good humor, as well as his experience as Chair of the Usage Panel of The American Heritage Dictionary, to the topic of clear communication in The Sense of Style: The Thinking Person's Guide to Writing in the 21st Century. As ever, Pinker offers brilliant explanations that reveal the structure of seemingly arbitrary conventions of thought and speech. Rather than writing a sop to pedants, he challenges us to think in terms of the reader and how she parses words on the page (for example, you just formed thoughts about my choice to use the pronoun "she": the gender-neutral singular is covered extensively here). This book is bound to change the way you think about language and will joyously confirm some of your personal preferences while mercilessly smashing others. Everyone who cares deeply about the English language should read it.
It's a lot of fun (there are comic strips aplenty and laugh-out-loud usage examples), but it’s not easy reading. You'll have to put your thinking cap on for this one. I don't mean to say that it's all subjunctive and pluperfect and modal auxiliary, but those highfalutin terms are invoked where necessary and may come flying at your head. Pinker dutifully unpacks these concepts, but there are times in which I had to stop and re-read or simply resign myself to duck and not get hit. I employed one of my new favorite ways of reading: listening to the audio book while reading the text. This is a delightful way to get into the zone. Arthur Morey does a yeoman's job of dictating charts and punctuation and describing illustrations, but I'd have been lost without the sentence tree diagrams and the 3-column grids to look at. If you have to choose one, go with the text copy.
Any thorough accounting of the topics addressed would be a massive undertaking, but I'll share a few highlights. Pinker lampoons our tendency to decry the death of English with new each generation, providing dire predictions of its imminent decline from the 1970s, 1960s, 1910s, 1800s, 1700s and... well, you get the idea. The CU L8TRs and IMHOs of texting are no more indicative of forgotten formal language than the elided and truncated staccato of telegrams in their heyday. A key to being a good writer is to be a good reader, and most of what we learn comes from observing masters at work: Pinker provides examples and breaks down what makes them so satisfying. It's important to use words to form images in the reader's head: "A writer, like a cinematographer, manipulates the viewer's perspective on an ongoing story, with the verbal equivalent of camera angles and quick cuts." We see how a carefully chosen word can break up cliché, invoke a shared cultural reference, or yield clues that save a paragraph of description. "The key to good style, far more than obeying any list of commandments, is to have a clear conception of the make-believe world in which you're pretending to communicate." We are urged to be mindful of our assumed relationship to the reader. "Classic writing, with its assumption of equality between writer and reader, makes the reader feel like a genius. Bad writing makes the reader feel like a dunce." A self-heeding nugget of wisdom: “Omit needless words.” The fault of academese, legalese and jargon is less attributable to intentional obfuscation, and more a problem of "The Curse of Knowledge": our tendency to assume that others already know what we know. One cure can be to have others read your work, or to wait and then re-read your own, addressing instances in which you've assumed everyone shares your familiarity with a topic, or simply catching constructions that are hard to read aloud. "The advice in this and other stylebooks is not so much on how to write as on how to revise."
Here I shall break these notes up with a new paragraph; which, Pinker reminds us, does not consistently correspond to any unit of discourse (and can even be, contra an army of grade school teachers, a single sentence). Much of the book consists of taking the received "rules" of grammar - don't end a sentence with a preposition, don't split the infinitive, or don't use "like" as "as" - and turning them on their heads. He provides counterexamples from English's most respected writers, popular songs, and common idioms, and dashes their false-analogies-to-Latin, spurious logic, and appeals-to-authority upon the rocks. I stuck with the Oxford comma (aka the serial comma, I’ve now learned) in the previous sentence, inspired by the argument in this book that it is typically the clearer construction. Pinker does not bemoan the loss of sentence diagrams, but employs cascading trees to visualize how our brains uptake sentences as we form meaning from component words. The order matters. A given sentence might need reorganization if it forces the reader to hold a thought for too long or to suspend multiple clauses in her head before the crucial information finally arrives. So much confusion with case- and tense- and subject/verb-agreement arises from those gaps in the tree that are placed too far from their logical partners. Pinker is sensitive to how language is used in the real world, and willing to let conventions slide when language evolves. He provides numerous examples of similar concessions: vestiges of previous generations in which usage battles were fought and lost. And yet, he argues convincingly against select malapropisms and miscarriages of language that he insists will cause trouble for the careful reader. His attack upon the figurative use of "literally" gave me a good laugh: "Like other intensifiers it is usually superfluous, whereas the 'actual fact' sense is indispensable and has no equivalent. And since the figurative use can evoke ludicrous imagery (e.g. The press has literally emasculated the president), it screams, 'I don't think about what my words mean.'"
There are many additional insights and explanations, new terminology (coordinator, subordinator and determiner will be particularly helpful), things I had never thought of before, and concepts I had previously misunderstood… but hopefully you get an idea of the observations herein. If you need more convincing, a delightful way to hear Pinker present the salient points is in this 54-minute lecture titled Linguistics, Style and Writing in the 21st Century. Happy reading, and happy writing!
It's a lot of fun (there are comic strips aplenty and laugh-out-loud usage examples), but it’s not easy reading. You'll have to put your thinking cap on for this one. I don't mean to say that it's all subjunctive and pluperfect and modal auxiliary, but those highfalutin terms are invoked where necessary and may come flying at your head. Pinker dutifully unpacks these concepts, but there are times in which I had to stop and re-read or simply resign myself to duck and not get hit. I employed one of my new favorite ways of reading: listening to the audio book while reading the text. This is a delightful way to get into the zone. Arthur Morey does a yeoman's job of dictating charts and punctuation and describing illustrations, but I'd have been lost without the sentence tree diagrams and the 3-column grids to look at. If you have to choose one, go with the text copy.
Any thorough accounting of the topics addressed would be a massive undertaking, but I'll share a few highlights. Pinker lampoons our tendency to decry the death of English with new each generation, providing dire predictions of its imminent decline from the 1970s, 1960s, 1910s, 1800s, 1700s and... well, you get the idea. The CU L8TRs and IMHOs of texting are no more indicative of forgotten formal language than the elided and truncated staccato of telegrams in their heyday. A key to being a good writer is to be a good reader, and most of what we learn comes from observing masters at work: Pinker provides examples and breaks down what makes them so satisfying. It's important to use words to form images in the reader's head: "A writer, like a cinematographer, manipulates the viewer's perspective on an ongoing story, with the verbal equivalent of camera angles and quick cuts." We see how a carefully chosen word can break up cliché, invoke a shared cultural reference, or yield clues that save a paragraph of description. "The key to good style, far more than obeying any list of commandments, is to have a clear conception of the make-believe world in which you're pretending to communicate." We are urged to be mindful of our assumed relationship to the reader. "Classic writing, with its assumption of equality between writer and reader, makes the reader feel like a genius. Bad writing makes the reader feel like a dunce." A self-heeding nugget of wisdom: “Omit needless words.” The fault of academese, legalese and jargon is less attributable to intentional obfuscation, and more a problem of "The Curse of Knowledge": our tendency to assume that others already know what we know. One cure can be to have others read your work, or to wait and then re-read your own, addressing instances in which you've assumed everyone shares your familiarity with a topic, or simply catching constructions that are hard to read aloud. "The advice in this and other stylebooks is not so much on how to write as on how to revise."
Here I shall break these notes up with a new paragraph; which, Pinker reminds us, does not consistently correspond to any unit of discourse (and can even be, contra an army of grade school teachers, a single sentence). Much of the book consists of taking the received "rules" of grammar - don't end a sentence with a preposition, don't split the infinitive, or don't use "like" as "as" - and turning them on their heads. He provides counterexamples from English's most respected writers, popular songs, and common idioms, and dashes their false-analogies-to-Latin, spurious logic, and appeals-to-authority upon the rocks. I stuck with the Oxford comma (aka the serial comma, I’ve now learned) in the previous sentence, inspired by the argument in this book that it is typically the clearer construction. Pinker does not bemoan the loss of sentence diagrams, but employs cascading trees to visualize how our brains uptake sentences as we form meaning from component words. The order matters. A given sentence might need reorganization if it forces the reader to hold a thought for too long or to suspend multiple clauses in her head before the crucial information finally arrives. So much confusion with case- and tense- and subject/verb-agreement arises from those gaps in the tree that are placed too far from their logical partners. Pinker is sensitive to how language is used in the real world, and willing to let conventions slide when language evolves. He provides numerous examples of similar concessions: vestiges of previous generations in which usage battles were fought and lost. And yet, he argues convincingly against select malapropisms and miscarriages of language that he insists will cause trouble for the careful reader. His attack upon the figurative use of "literally" gave me a good laugh: "Like other intensifiers it is usually superfluous, whereas the 'actual fact' sense is indispensable and has no equivalent. And since the figurative use can evoke ludicrous imagery (e.g. The press has literally emasculated the president), it screams, 'I don't think about what my words mean.'"
There are many additional insights and explanations, new terminology (coordinator, subordinator and determiner will be particularly helpful), things I had never thought of before, and concepts I had previously misunderstood… but hopefully you get an idea of the observations herein. If you need more convincing, a delightful way to hear Pinker present the salient points is in this 54-minute lecture titled Linguistics, Style and Writing in the 21st Century. Happy reading, and happy writing!
June 28, 2015
* Originally reviewed on the Night Owls Press blog here. *
Heads-up, editors. In The Sense of Style, author Steven Pinker challenges every authoritarian grammarian and language purist who has held sway over the rules of the English language with their dogmatic style books.
A psycholinguist by profession, Pinker is a scholar of the science of language. So it's no surprise that The Sense of Style feels like a modern alternative to the classic but tired guides of Strunk and White and others. In my days as an English undergrad, Strunk and White's The Elements of Style was the biblical tome of writing. But Pinker arrives with this iconoclastic book to show us that sometimes rules can be tone-deaf to what really makes for transparent and compelling prose.
Purists often forget that the English language is rife with idiosyncrasies that can't be fit so neatly into rule boxes. You'll see the best kind of rule-breaking among poets and novelists, who often have the better "ear" and feel for language than your clumsy grammarian. Language is chiefly a medium for expression, not just an embodiment of rules. Literature's most gifted writers have often 'broken' the rules using constructions that might have been edited into sterility by heavy-handed editors. The expressive possibilities of language often rely on the rules being bent.
As you can see, this book isn't your typical manual on grammar and usage. You won't find a list of dos and don'ts in an effort to indoctrinate. Pinker shows us instead that unthinking adherence to manuals actually makes for bad, clunky writing. For example, one of the signature rules in writing is to avoid using the passive voice at all costs. But Pinker argues that if you change every passive sentence into an active one, you're not necessarily improving the prose. The main problem is that the passive construction exists for a purpose—but most people don't know when to use it effectively. Sure, both active and passive constructions convey the same information but they have cognitive differences because of the order of information given. Pinker's rule of thumb: Passive is the preferred construction when the affected entity (the item that receives the action) is the topic of the preceding discussion or when the agent of action is irrelevant to the discussion. In other words, good writing is about having a "sense," about letting your communication goals dictate the writing.
This book isn't for beginners. Pinker is clear in the Introduction about this and writes that this book is for experienced writers. You will benefit the most from this book if you are a relatively experienced writer and reader, and are familiar with the basic rules of language and grammar. You have to know the rules in order to bend them with style and with compelling reason, to know when to take advantage of loopholes and irregularities.
The "sense" in The Sense of Style is knowing how a masterful writer moves fluidly between logical rules and combinations, and knows those idiomatic usages and irregularities. The book is packed with examples and is wonderfully readable, which surprised me. Pinker is great at reverse engineering passages and illuminating what writers have done well (or not done well) to convey their ideas. Take lots of notes!
For those who still crave the utility of a reference manual, the later chapters in the book include lists of words and rules that can be bent and those that can't (in Pinker's opinion). Or, for a bite-size taste of the grammar rules Pinker explores in this book, check out this article by Pinker in The Guardian.
Overall, a great, informative read. I'll be keeping this on my reference shelf.
[Disclaimer: I received an ARC copy of this book from the publisher through the Goodreads First Reads Program in exchange for an honest review.]
Heads-up, editors. In The Sense of Style, author Steven Pinker challenges every authoritarian grammarian and language purist who has held sway over the rules of the English language with their dogmatic style books.
A psycholinguist by profession, Pinker is a scholar of the science of language. So it's no surprise that The Sense of Style feels like a modern alternative to the classic but tired guides of Strunk and White and others. In my days as an English undergrad, Strunk and White's The Elements of Style was the biblical tome of writing. But Pinker arrives with this iconoclastic book to show us that sometimes rules can be tone-deaf to what really makes for transparent and compelling prose.
Purists often forget that the English language is rife with idiosyncrasies that can't be fit so neatly into rule boxes. You'll see the best kind of rule-breaking among poets and novelists, who often have the better "ear" and feel for language than your clumsy grammarian. Language is chiefly a medium for expression, not just an embodiment of rules. Literature's most gifted writers have often 'broken' the rules using constructions that might have been edited into sterility by heavy-handed editors. The expressive possibilities of language often rely on the rules being bent.
As you can see, this book isn't your typical manual on grammar and usage. You won't find a list of dos and don'ts in an effort to indoctrinate. Pinker shows us instead that unthinking adherence to manuals actually makes for bad, clunky writing. For example, one of the signature rules in writing is to avoid using the passive voice at all costs. But Pinker argues that if you change every passive sentence into an active one, you're not necessarily improving the prose. The main problem is that the passive construction exists for a purpose—but most people don't know when to use it effectively. Sure, both active and passive constructions convey the same information but they have cognitive differences because of the order of information given. Pinker's rule of thumb: Passive is the preferred construction when the affected entity (the item that receives the action) is the topic of the preceding discussion or when the agent of action is irrelevant to the discussion. In other words, good writing is about having a "sense," about letting your communication goals dictate the writing.
This book isn't for beginners. Pinker is clear in the Introduction about this and writes that this book is for experienced writers. You will benefit the most from this book if you are a relatively experienced writer and reader, and are familiar with the basic rules of language and grammar. You have to know the rules in order to bend them with style and with compelling reason, to know when to take advantage of loopholes and irregularities.
The "sense" in The Sense of Style is knowing how a masterful writer moves fluidly between logical rules and combinations, and knows those idiomatic usages and irregularities. The book is packed with examples and is wonderfully readable, which surprised me. Pinker is great at reverse engineering passages and illuminating what writers have done well (or not done well) to convey their ideas. Take lots of notes!
For those who still crave the utility of a reference manual, the later chapters in the book include lists of words and rules that can be bent and those that can't (in Pinker's opinion). Or, for a bite-size taste of the grammar rules Pinker explores in this book, check out this article by Pinker in The Guardian.
Overall, a great, informative read. I'll be keeping this on my reference shelf.
[Disclaimer: I received an ARC copy of this book from the publisher through the Goodreads First Reads Program in exchange for an honest review.]
November 15, 2017
A great book on the considerations for writing non-fiction.
This book was written with the amazing style of Pinker's usual writings and it was about that style and practical advice to improve one's writings. I am implementing the lessons I've learned from pinker in my writing process for my blog. And it improved my effectiveness to a great degree.
It is worth knowing that most advice on the book contains pretty solid arguments for them. So you can use the arguments to find ways to improve writing, regardless of what language you are writing with.
This book was written with the amazing style of Pinker's usual writings and it was about that style and practical advice to improve one's writings. I am implementing the lessons I've learned from pinker in my writing process for my blog. And it improved my effectiveness to a great degree.
It is worth knowing that most advice on the book contains pretty solid arguments for them. So you can use the arguments to find ways to improve writing, regardless of what language you are writing with.
May 8, 2017
Un geniu și un must read pentru orice tip de scriitor.
Recenzia aici:
https://youtu.be/L0c3cXcuzXY
Recenzia aici:
https://youtu.be/L0c3cXcuzXY
September 6, 2014
Thanks to a Goodreads Firstreads giveaway, I had a chance to read an advanced copy of Pinker's Sense of Style. My thoughts on the book are a bit mixed. Here goes:
The Good:
--Well, let's be honest--I just read a stylebook cover to cover; it must have SOMETHING going for it!
--I found Pinker's wit to be on full display here, and that was a welcome addition to what can sometimes become dry material (i.e., talk of grammar). Pinker's wit is at its best when he slyly breaks all the grammar rules he's discussing in the midst of discussing them only to reveal the trick a paragraph later. An instance of the old aphorism "form follows function" at its best.
--In a piece of writing I completed this week, I found myself utilizing advice I'd read in this book and/or considering the constructions of my sentences based on the logic Pinker provides in the book. If a stylebook--a utilitarian genre if there ever was one--turns out to be useful, that certainly bodes well for it.
The Not-so-good:
--I found the structure/form of the book to be a bit two-headed. It was as though the book couldn't decide whether it wanted to be a scholarly monograph about style (to be read cover-to-cover) or a textbook/reference book (to be consulted piecemeal). I chose to approach the book as a monograph; however, I found that there were chapters that read like a monograph and chapters that read like a reference book. Needless to say, the "referencey" chapters were not quite as read-able.
--In addition, several of the chapters were far too long to be useful in a textbook setting. Truth be told, perhaps Pinker wasn't shooting for textbook use for his book, but the incongruity here is that the chapters that were most like textbook chapters in their content were the longest (and therefore the least like textbook chapters in their functionality).
In sum, this was a readable stylebook (a feat in and of itself) that has a lot of 21st-century insights that it would do a lot of us a lot of good to internalize. However, it was also a book that just couldn't make up its mind about its identity.
The Good:
--Well, let's be honest--I just read a stylebook cover to cover; it must have SOMETHING going for it!
--I found Pinker's wit to be on full display here, and that was a welcome addition to what can sometimes become dry material (i.e., talk of grammar). Pinker's wit is at its best when he slyly breaks all the grammar rules he's discussing in the midst of discussing them only to reveal the trick a paragraph later. An instance of the old aphorism "form follows function" at its best.
--In a piece of writing I completed this week, I found myself utilizing advice I'd read in this book and/or considering the constructions of my sentences based on the logic Pinker provides in the book. If a stylebook--a utilitarian genre if there ever was one--turns out to be useful, that certainly bodes well for it.
The Not-so-good:
--I found the structure/form of the book to be a bit two-headed. It was as though the book couldn't decide whether it wanted to be a scholarly monograph about style (to be read cover-to-cover) or a textbook/reference book (to be consulted piecemeal). I chose to approach the book as a monograph; however, I found that there were chapters that read like a monograph and chapters that read like a reference book. Needless to say, the "referencey" chapters were not quite as read-able.
--In addition, several of the chapters were far too long to be useful in a textbook setting. Truth be told, perhaps Pinker wasn't shooting for textbook use for his book, but the incongruity here is that the chapters that were most like textbook chapters in their content were the longest (and therefore the least like textbook chapters in their functionality).
In sum, this was a readable stylebook (a feat in and of itself) that has a lot of 21st-century insights that it would do a lot of us a lot of good to internalize. However, it was also a book that just couldn't make up its mind about its identity.
February 7, 2017
What I expect from a writing guide is either a comprehensive reference book where I can easily find answers to my questions, or - much more valued - explanations so memorable that my writing - or my students' writing - is changed forever. (Sin Boldly!: Dr. Dave's Guide To Writing The College Paper worked quite well this year; in one case, the shock of reading the Torah was so strong that a student of mine started to write clearly, because he understood that communicating ideas is the key to good writing. True story.)
With this book, we get neither. The explanations are long-winded, frequently involving tree diagrams (meaning they can cause brain damage in grammar-illiterate 16-year-olds), and ultimately unmemorable. I have enjoyed reading it - mostly - but this book is no miracle cure and not a go-to resource. Still, Pinker provides some excellent study material, such as incorrect and doctored sentences, or analysed samples of good writing, which I found very effective for teaching kids close reading.
With this book, we get neither. The explanations are long-winded, frequently involving tree diagrams (meaning they can cause brain damage in grammar-illiterate 16-year-olds), and ultimately unmemorable. I have enjoyed reading it - mostly - but this book is no miracle cure and not a go-to resource. Still, Pinker provides some excellent study material, such as incorrect and doctored sentences, or analysed samples of good writing, which I found very effective for teaching kids close reading.
January 25, 2023
This has to be the best style guide for intelligent and clear writing. Immensely practical, clever, and information dense. I will definitely buy a copy of this!
May 14, 2020
¿Qué hace falta para escribir de forma elegante y con la mayor claridad posible?
Aunque parezca un reto difícil, Pinker escribe este sencillo manual de estilo para probar que no es tan difícil como se piensa. Simplemente hay que tener presente en todo momento al lector y no tratar de ponerle las cosas difíciles con párrafos oscurantistas ni una sintaxis complicadas. A lo largo de varios ejemplos, que serán una y otra vez reformulados hasta pulirlos de la forma más sencilla posible, el autor expone que lo más versátil puede ser retomar un estilo clásico - como proponen Thomas y Turner - y no dar rodeos innecesarios. Durante el ensayo, derriba unos cuantos mitos, como el de no repetir los mismos términos o el de no usar atajos sintácticos.
Pese a unos maravillosos capítulos iniciales, recomendados para todo el mundo, en el último capítulo se pone más de manifiesto que antes que el libro está dedicado a un lector inglés, debido a los múltiples ejemplos que se dan analizando textos y oraciones en esta lengua. El traductor, que conste, ha hecho un gran trabajo adaptando la mayoría de definiciones a las problemáticas del español.
Aunque parezca un reto difícil, Pinker escribe este sencillo manual de estilo para probar que no es tan difícil como se piensa. Simplemente hay que tener presente en todo momento al lector y no tratar de ponerle las cosas difíciles con párrafos oscurantistas ni una sintaxis complicadas. A lo largo de varios ejemplos, que serán una y otra vez reformulados hasta pulirlos de la forma más sencilla posible, el autor expone que lo más versátil puede ser retomar un estilo clásico - como proponen Thomas y Turner - y no dar rodeos innecesarios. Durante el ensayo, derriba unos cuantos mitos, como el de no repetir los mismos términos o el de no usar atajos sintácticos.
Pese a unos maravillosos capítulos iniciales, recomendados para todo el mundo, en el último capítulo se pone más de manifiesto que antes que el libro está dedicado a un lector inglés, debido a los múltiples ejemplos que se dan analizando textos y oraciones en esta lengua. El traductor, que conste, ha hecho un gran trabajo adaptando la mayoría de definiciones a las problemáticas del español.
September 7, 2014
I started out reading this book as I thought it was intended: a style manual for the modern day writer. I ended up equating it more to a textbook and reference guide for the modern day writer. I can easily see this book being required for college level courses. It is deep into sentence structure,and the entire last chapter is fantastic for reference.
I liked his approach of writing so that one's brain has the most effective cognitive response to what it's reading. There were moments when I admit I had to go back and re-read some parts, as it was a bit too dry to keep me engaged but, overall, I found this book to be one of the most original I've read on structure.
I will keep this book on my reference shelf; as I've highlighted parts throughout for quick reference. I have not read any of his other books, although I have to say he is a very good writer, and an author I will look for should I want to purchase other books on writing.
I liked his approach of writing so that one's brain has the most effective cognitive response to what it's reading. There were moments when I admit I had to go back and re-read some parts, as it was a bit too dry to keep me engaged but, overall, I found this book to be one of the most original I've read on structure.
I will keep this book on my reference shelf; as I've highlighted parts throughout for quick reference. I have not read any of his other books, although I have to say he is a very good writer, and an author I will look for should I want to purchase other books on writing.
June 19, 2024
A wonderful book for readers and writers alike.
Pinker emphasizes empathy: How a writer must put herself or himself in the readers' shoes.
My favorite part of the book is his explanation of the "curse of knowledge." This is the ubiquitous tendency in humans to assume other people know more about what they know than the other people really do.
How many times has someone talked to you about something and assumed you knew more than you did? Used names or acronyms you weren't familiar with? Didn't stop to explain things enough when you started a new job?
As a writer, I'm always reminding myself that the last thing a reader wants to do is read a book written by someone who doesn't explain things enough. Again, it all comes down to empathy.
This book is a welcome addition to the literature in this space.
Pinker emphasizes empathy: How a writer must put herself or himself in the readers' shoes.
My favorite part of the book is his explanation of the "curse of knowledge." This is the ubiquitous tendency in humans to assume other people know more about what they know than the other people really do.
How many times has someone talked to you about something and assumed you knew more than you did? Used names or acronyms you weren't familiar with? Didn't stop to explain things enough when you started a new job?
As a writer, I'm always reminding myself that the last thing a reader wants to do is read a book written by someone who doesn't explain things enough. Again, it all comes down to empathy.
This book is a welcome addition to the literature in this space.
March 6, 2016
I love Pinker, and I love writing, so this really was the book for me. It was denser than I expected, and I thus I wouldn't recommend it for any looking for a light read in writing.
The focus is more on academic non-fiction than other forms of non-fiction or fiction, but offers generally timeless advice about style and clarity. Pinker strikes a good balance between useful rules and avoiding pedantry. He occasionally breaks his own advice by overusing his large and eccentric vocabulary, but its all in good fun.
Will require a bit of time to get through but well recommended.
The focus is more on academic non-fiction than other forms of non-fiction or fiction, but offers generally timeless advice about style and clarity. Pinker strikes a good balance between useful rules and avoiding pedantry. He occasionally breaks his own advice by overusing his large and eccentric vocabulary, but its all in good fun.
Will require a bit of time to get through but well recommended.
November 26, 2016
Steven Pinker’s The Sense of Style is a maddening book, much the way doctoral students are maddening. At once a style guide, a work of aesthetics, and an overeducated explanation of writing precepts that many unwashed composition teachers nationwide already understand, it is a book sometimes too smart to get out of its own way.
The book’s strengths are evident. Its six chapters use Pinker’s expertise in cognitive psychology and linguistics to demystify and to articulate how writing, both good and bad, gets written. Pinker advocates a “classic style” grounded in the visual and attentive to the action-based, cause-and-effect relations of stories. Such writing avoids the Puritanical parsimony enforced by numerous editors, professors, and grammar purists, a tight-fisted approach to language that often leaves the writer feeling penny-wise, the reader pound-foolish. It strengthens conceptual links between parts of a sentence, earns trust with its directness, and explains abstractions by finding fresh images to illustrate them. Classic style is, as Pinker notes, “congenial to the world view of the scientist.”
Pinker’s scientific expertise yields interesting explanations for where and why our writing goes wrong, as in his discussion of how the clunky noun phrases and strings of prepositions that typify bad prose are tied to the mental process of “chunking,” or concreting data into manageable blocks of information. For an academic, Pinker is often delightfully lucid and personable, with a flexible, adaptive approach to writing style. Eschewing the trussed-up dogmatism of many contemporary guides, Pinker warns against “the putative rule [that] confuse(s) grammar with formality” and helps understand the difference between ungrammatical writing (which impedes meaning) and unconventional writing (which may be more or less effective in different contexts, but which can nevertheless be understood).
Pinker also proves a tasteful, appreciative, and creative reader of other authors’ prose. Using a passage from a newspaper column on bird-watching to discuss the judicious application of passive voice, Pinker playfully grants the much-maligned passive a moment of activity: “Though the heron is merely being observed by an unobserved birdwatcher at this point in the passage, the passive voice keeps it in the reader’s spotlight of attention.”
Readers looking to Pinker’s book as a style guide, à la The Elements of Style, may find it unwieldy overall, but useful at moments, particularly in the final chapter. Here, Pinker explores misconceptions about the ‘rules’ of English, many of which, like the rule against split infinitives, are historical accidents or personal biases that some grammar purists prescribe as commandments. Yet Pinker is no bleeding-heart descriptivist, accepting whatever neologism or grammatical rewiring comes his way; rather, he demonstrates how transformed language can still make sense, yet will prove more or less effective depending on its cultural context. This chapter does not offer specific templates for writing, as a conventional style manual might, but it does guide the reader through the murky waters of these issues.
With so many strengths, then, what is the problem with The Sense of Style? Like a hog who can’t grasp that other animals don’t love the mudbath, Pinker often wallows too long in his discussions of linguistics, particularly in the fourth chapter, an informed but wearying treatment of Noam Chomsky’s “deep structure,” which Pinker uses ponderously to explain such common writing errors as the confusion of who and whom. (Here’s the error, in three words: nominative / accusative confusion.) Pinker’s writing advice, which he often treats as the miracle by-product of cognitive science research, is generally the tried-and-true wisdom of many college writing instructors: seek a second reader’s feedback, step away from your writing to see it afresh, read it aloud, use paragraph breaks “to give the reader’s eyes a place to alight and rest.”
Like many a doctoral student, Pinker cherry-picks evidence in order to deride entire disciplines for bad prose, or else to puff up writers and thinkers he admires, going so far as to parse and praise a passage from a novel by his wife, Rebecca Goldstein (“the speaker is a professor who has recently achieved professional and romantic fulfillment,” notes Pinker, in a moment of telling ambiguity). And, finally, when nothing suitable is ready to hand, Pinker invents evidence that, unsurprisingly, supports his points, analyzing several passages he identifies as doctored-up pastiches, and a few more he doesn’t even bother to cite.
The Sense of Style is maddening because for every instance of intellectual boorishness, there is another of genial lucidity. In an early chapter, Pinker observes: “The curse of knowledge is the single best explanation I know of why good people write bad prose. It simply doesn’t occur to the writer that her readers don’t know what she knows.” He writes, not unsympathetically, of how experts come to overestimate the common understanding of their jargon: “As we settle in to the clique, it becomes our universe.” And he warns that “one should not confuse clarity with condescension.”
How much old-fashioned wisdom lies in these remarks! So different from the technological new-fangledness that follows in the next chapter: “Once again, it’s good cognitive psychology: people learn by integrating new information into their existing web of knowledge. They don’t like it when a fact is hurled at them from out of the blue and they have to keep it levitating in short-term memory until they find a relevant background to embed it in a few moments later.”
At its best, the ‘sense’ in The Sense of Style refers to common sense, and at these moments, Steven Pinker, the thoughtful amateur, deserves praise for insights and instructions that are not bound up with any one expert discourse, but can be used by writers in any field, of any status, on any occasion. Pinker, like many a doctoral student, often operates at his best.
Often, but not always. There are moments when the ‘sense’ in The Sense of Style refers to faculties of the mind, and then, Steven Pinker, cognitive scientist, takes over. And it’s at moments like these that I’m reminded of a scene in The Big Lebowski, when The Dude says to his trigger-happy bowling partner, Walter Sobchak, “You’re not wrong, Walter, you’re just an asshole.”
The book’s strengths are evident. Its six chapters use Pinker’s expertise in cognitive psychology and linguistics to demystify and to articulate how writing, both good and bad, gets written. Pinker advocates a “classic style” grounded in the visual and attentive to the action-based, cause-and-effect relations of stories. Such writing avoids the Puritanical parsimony enforced by numerous editors, professors, and grammar purists, a tight-fisted approach to language that often leaves the writer feeling penny-wise, the reader pound-foolish. It strengthens conceptual links between parts of a sentence, earns trust with its directness, and explains abstractions by finding fresh images to illustrate them. Classic style is, as Pinker notes, “congenial to the world view of the scientist.”
Pinker’s scientific expertise yields interesting explanations for where and why our writing goes wrong, as in his discussion of how the clunky noun phrases and strings of prepositions that typify bad prose are tied to the mental process of “chunking,” or concreting data into manageable blocks of information. For an academic, Pinker is often delightfully lucid and personable, with a flexible, adaptive approach to writing style. Eschewing the trussed-up dogmatism of many contemporary guides, Pinker warns against “the putative rule [that] confuse(s) grammar with formality” and helps understand the difference between ungrammatical writing (which impedes meaning) and unconventional writing (which may be more or less effective in different contexts, but which can nevertheless be understood).
Pinker also proves a tasteful, appreciative, and creative reader of other authors’ prose. Using a passage from a newspaper column on bird-watching to discuss the judicious application of passive voice, Pinker playfully grants the much-maligned passive a moment of activity: “Though the heron is merely being observed by an unobserved birdwatcher at this point in the passage, the passive voice keeps it in the reader’s spotlight of attention.”
Readers looking to Pinker’s book as a style guide, à la The Elements of Style, may find it unwieldy overall, but useful at moments, particularly in the final chapter. Here, Pinker explores misconceptions about the ‘rules’ of English, many of which, like the rule against split infinitives, are historical accidents or personal biases that some grammar purists prescribe as commandments. Yet Pinker is no bleeding-heart descriptivist, accepting whatever neologism or grammatical rewiring comes his way; rather, he demonstrates how transformed language can still make sense, yet will prove more or less effective depending on its cultural context. This chapter does not offer specific templates for writing, as a conventional style manual might, but it does guide the reader through the murky waters of these issues.
With so many strengths, then, what is the problem with The Sense of Style? Like a hog who can’t grasp that other animals don’t love the mudbath, Pinker often wallows too long in his discussions of linguistics, particularly in the fourth chapter, an informed but wearying treatment of Noam Chomsky’s “deep structure,” which Pinker uses ponderously to explain such common writing errors as the confusion of who and whom. (Here’s the error, in three words: nominative / accusative confusion.) Pinker’s writing advice, which he often treats as the miracle by-product of cognitive science research, is generally the tried-and-true wisdom of many college writing instructors: seek a second reader’s feedback, step away from your writing to see it afresh, read it aloud, use paragraph breaks “to give the reader’s eyes a place to alight and rest.”
Like many a doctoral student, Pinker cherry-picks evidence in order to deride entire disciplines for bad prose, or else to puff up writers and thinkers he admires, going so far as to parse and praise a passage from a novel by his wife, Rebecca Goldstein (“the speaker is a professor who has recently achieved professional and romantic fulfillment,” notes Pinker, in a moment of telling ambiguity). And, finally, when nothing suitable is ready to hand, Pinker invents evidence that, unsurprisingly, supports his points, analyzing several passages he identifies as doctored-up pastiches, and a few more he doesn’t even bother to cite.
The Sense of Style is maddening because for every instance of intellectual boorishness, there is another of genial lucidity. In an early chapter, Pinker observes: “The curse of knowledge is the single best explanation I know of why good people write bad prose. It simply doesn’t occur to the writer that her readers don’t know what she knows.” He writes, not unsympathetically, of how experts come to overestimate the common understanding of their jargon: “As we settle in to the clique, it becomes our universe.” And he warns that “one should not confuse clarity with condescension.”
How much old-fashioned wisdom lies in these remarks! So different from the technological new-fangledness that follows in the next chapter: “Once again, it’s good cognitive psychology: people learn by integrating new information into their existing web of knowledge. They don’t like it when a fact is hurled at them from out of the blue and they have to keep it levitating in short-term memory until they find a relevant background to embed it in a few moments later.”
At its best, the ‘sense’ in The Sense of Style refers to common sense, and at these moments, Steven Pinker, the thoughtful amateur, deserves praise for insights and instructions that are not bound up with any one expert discourse, but can be used by writers in any field, of any status, on any occasion. Pinker, like many a doctoral student, often operates at his best.
Often, but not always. There are moments when the ‘sense’ in The Sense of Style refers to faculties of the mind, and then, Steven Pinker, cognitive scientist, takes over. And it’s at moments like these that I’m reminded of a scene in The Big Lebowski, when The Dude says to his trigger-happy bowling partner, Walter Sobchak, “You’re not wrong, Walter, you’re just an asshole.”
February 29, 2020
Pisać każdy może,
Trochę lepiej, lub trochę gorzej.
Steven Pinker w "Pięknym stylu" odpowiada na pytanie jak pisać lepiej. Odpowiedź brzmi - prosto i czytelnie. Niektóre jego zalecenia są oczywiste - "unikaj słów które ledwo rozumiesz". Inne mogą być zaskakujące - "broń Cię Panie Boże, nie przekształcaj czasownika w rzeczownik". Ja, jako użytkownik potępianego przez niego prawniczego żargonu, dowiedziałam się jak dużo wykroczeń przeciwko stylowi, nieświadomie popełniałam. Setnie się przy tym ubawiłam, bo Steven Pinker swoje uwagi przedstawił w zabawny sposób.
Wyjątkowo przypadła mi do gustu forma książki - zestawienie zdań źle napisanych ze zdaniami poprawnie sformułowanymi. Wizualizacja (rzeczownik zombie) pozwoliła lepiej zrozumieć jakich lapsusów językowych nie należy popełniać (konstrukcja bezprzedmiotowa), ponieważ przez to wzrasta wrażenie nieczytelności tekstu (podwójna negacja), co wpływa na ograniczenie komunikatywności i klarowności tegoż (trudne słowa i synonimomania). A mogłam napisać inaczej - łatwiej zrozumiałam, dlaczego błędy stylistyczne, utrudniają czytelność tekstu, gdy zobaczyłam i porównałam tekst dobrze i źle napisany.
Z pewnością nie zostanę drugim Cyceronem czy Juliuszem Cezarem. Wszak obaj panowie byli znani ze świetnego stylu wypowiedzi. Na pewno jednak dzięki "Pięknemu stylowi" będę umiała nazwać, jakie błędy stylistyczne popełniam ja i jakie inni popełniają. Polecam! Warto pisać klasycznie.
Trochę lepiej, lub trochę gorzej.
Steven Pinker w "Pięknym stylu" odpowiada na pytanie jak pisać lepiej. Odpowiedź brzmi - prosto i czytelnie. Niektóre jego zalecenia są oczywiste - "unikaj słów które ledwo rozumiesz". Inne mogą być zaskakujące - "broń Cię Panie Boże, nie przekształcaj czasownika w rzeczownik". Ja, jako użytkownik potępianego przez niego prawniczego żargonu, dowiedziałam się jak dużo wykroczeń przeciwko stylowi, nieświadomie popełniałam. Setnie się przy tym ubawiłam, bo Steven Pinker swoje uwagi przedstawił w zabawny sposób.
Wyjątkowo przypadła mi do gustu forma książki - zestawienie zdań źle napisanych ze zdaniami poprawnie sformułowanymi. Wizualizacja (rzeczownik zombie) pozwoliła lepiej zrozumieć jakich lapsusów językowych nie należy popełniać (konstrukcja bezprzedmiotowa), ponieważ przez to wzrasta wrażenie nieczytelności tekstu (podwójna negacja), co wpływa na ograniczenie komunikatywności i klarowności tegoż (trudne słowa i synonimomania). A mogłam napisać inaczej - łatwiej zrozumiałam, dlaczego błędy stylistyczne, utrudniają czytelność tekstu, gdy zobaczyłam i porównałam tekst dobrze i źle napisany.
Z pewnością nie zostanę drugim Cyceronem czy Juliuszem Cezarem. Wszak obaj panowie byli znani ze świetnego stylu wypowiedzi. Na pewno jednak dzięki "Pięknemu stylowi" będę umiała nazwać, jakie błędy stylistyczne popełniam ja i jakie inni popełniają. Polecam! Warto pisać klasycznie.
Want to read
February 13, 2020https://www.inc.com/jessica-stillman/...
Being irrational may pay off, sometimes:
https://www.inc.com/jessica-stillman/...
UPDATE
THIS IS A LEFT-LEANING, IMPEACHMENT-AT-ANY-COST INTERPRETATION OF THE WRITTEN EXCHANGES TRUMP-ZELENSKY:
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/10/07/op...
UPDATE
Pinker should be analyzing the little texts ahead
UPDATE
https://getpocket.com/explore/item/th...
Being irrational may pay off, sometimes:
https://www.inc.com/jessica-stillman/...
UPDATE
THIS IS A LEFT-LEANING, IMPEACHMENT-AT-ANY-COST INTERPRETATION OF THE WRITTEN EXCHANGES TRUMP-ZELENSKY:
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/10/07/op...
UPDATE
Pinker should be analyzing the little texts ahead
UPDATE
https://getpocket.com/explore/item/th...
January 4, 2015
Earthshattering it is not. Some good cartoons, though.
October 9, 2014
The Sense of Style: The Thinking Person’s Guide to Writing in the 21st Century by Steven Pinker
The Sense of Style is a scholarly and witty book on the art of writing well. Bestselling author, linguist and cognitive scientist Steven Pinker provides readers with a new writing-guide for the twenty-first century. He breaks down grammar rules and challenges purists on the best use of language. This challenging 368-page book includes the following six chapters: 1. Good Writing, 2. A Window onto the World, 3. The Curse of Knowledge, 4. The Web, the Tree, and the String, 5. Arcs of Coherence, and 6. Telling Right from Wrong.
Positives:
1. Dr. Pinker consistently produces quality work.
2. A “very” unique topic, the art of writing well from a scientific perspective. You don’t have to read the book to get my joke.
3. Good use of wit that adds panache to a book about writing style.
4. Good advice throughout the book. “By replacing dogma about usage with reason and evidence, I hope not just to avoid giving ham-fisted advice but to make the advice that I do give easier to remember than a list of dos and don’ts.”
5. Explains the three main reasons why style matters.
6. Provides insights on how to become a good writer. “Writers acquire their technique by spotting, savoring, and reverse-engineering examples of good prose.”
7. Supports good style over writing dogma. “The key to good style, far more than obeying any list of commandments, is to have a clear conception of the make-believe world in which you’re pretending to communicate.” “The purpose of writing is presentation, and its motive is disinterested truth. It succeeds when it aligns language with the truth, the proof of success being clarity and simplicity.”
8. The characteristics of classic style. “A writer of classic prose must simulate two experiences: showing the reader something in the world, and engaging her in conversation.”
9. Provides many examples of what constitutes poor prose: “Metadiscourse, signposting, hedging, apologizing, professional narcissism, clichés, mixed metaphors, metaconcepts, zombie nouns, and unnecessary passives.”
10. Hanlon’s Razor, “Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.” Excellent explanation on how the curse of knowledge may lead to poor prose. “The curse of knowledge is the single best explanation I know of why good people write bad prose.”
11. Ways on how to improve your prose. “Good prose is never written by a committee.” Think about that.
12. The importance of understanding syntax. “Finally, an awareness of syntax can help you avoid ambiguous, confusing, and convoluted sentences. All of this awareness depends on a basic grasp of what grammatical categories are, how they differ from functions and meanings, and how they fit into trees.”
13. Interesting insights on how our minds work and how that knowledge benefits good writing. “English syntax demands subject before object. Human memory demands light before heavy. Human comprehension demands topic before comment and given before new.”
14. How to construct coherent passages longer than a sentence. “In fact, it’s the hunger for coherence that drives the entire process of understanding language.”
15. Discusses principles of composition. “An important principle in composition is that the amount of verbiage one devotes to a point should not be too far out of line with how central it is to the argument. “
16. Discusses good use of grammar, word choice, and punctuation. Starts off by debunking the myth that all traditional rules must be followed for dogma’s sake. “That’s right: when it comes to correct English, there’s no one in charge; the lunatics are running the asylum. The editors of a dictionary read a lot, keeping their eyes open for new words and senses that are used by many writers in many contexts, and the editors add or change the definitions accordingly. Purists are often offended when they learn that this is how dictionaries are written.”
17. Presents a list of common usage issues. “These are the ones that repeatedly turn up in style guides, pet-peeve lists, newspaper language columns, irate letters to the editor, and inventories of common errors in student papers.” Great stuff.
18. Includes notes, glossary and a formal bibliography.
Negatives:
1. This book is intended for writers, not for laypersons. You must possess good command of the English language and grammar in order for this book to make sense. The grammar jargon will overwhelm the average reader.
2. The book’s formatting leads to confusion. For a book predicated on clarity, many times I was lost.
3. The writing may come across as pretentious.
4. I wanted more neuroscience.
In summary, there is a direct correlation between the amount of stars this book deserves and your expertise on the subject. English majors and writers will give this book either four or five stars. On the other hand, laypersons will struggle with it to say the least. I’m giving this book four stars because even though my engineering brethren balks at reading such a book the avid reader in me recognizes its value. Writers will enjoy this book while the rest will struggle with it.
Further recommendations: “The Elements of Style” by William Strunk Junior, “On Writing Well” by William Zinsser, “A Manual for Writers of Research Papers, Theses, and Dissertations” by Kate L. Turabian, “The Only Grammar Book You’ll Ever Need” by Susan Thurman and Larry Shea, “Book Writing Mistakes” by Jim Edwards, “How to Write Great Blog Posts that Engage Readers” by Steve Scott, “English Grammar for Dummies” by Geraldine Woods, and “Grammar Girl’s Punctuation 911” by Mignon Fogarty.
The Sense of Style is a scholarly and witty book on the art of writing well. Bestselling author, linguist and cognitive scientist Steven Pinker provides readers with a new writing-guide for the twenty-first century. He breaks down grammar rules and challenges purists on the best use of language. This challenging 368-page book includes the following six chapters: 1. Good Writing, 2. A Window onto the World, 3. The Curse of Knowledge, 4. The Web, the Tree, and the String, 5. Arcs of Coherence, and 6. Telling Right from Wrong.
Positives:
1. Dr. Pinker consistently produces quality work.
2. A “very” unique topic, the art of writing well from a scientific perspective. You don’t have to read the book to get my joke.
3. Good use of wit that adds panache to a book about writing style.
4. Good advice throughout the book. “By replacing dogma about usage with reason and evidence, I hope not just to avoid giving ham-fisted advice but to make the advice that I do give easier to remember than a list of dos and don’ts.”
5. Explains the three main reasons why style matters.
6. Provides insights on how to become a good writer. “Writers acquire their technique by spotting, savoring, and reverse-engineering examples of good prose.”
7. Supports good style over writing dogma. “The key to good style, far more than obeying any list of commandments, is to have a clear conception of the make-believe world in which you’re pretending to communicate.” “The purpose of writing is presentation, and its motive is disinterested truth. It succeeds when it aligns language with the truth, the proof of success being clarity and simplicity.”
8. The characteristics of classic style. “A writer of classic prose must simulate two experiences: showing the reader something in the world, and engaging her in conversation.”
9. Provides many examples of what constitutes poor prose: “Metadiscourse, signposting, hedging, apologizing, professional narcissism, clichés, mixed metaphors, metaconcepts, zombie nouns, and unnecessary passives.”
10. Hanlon’s Razor, “Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.” Excellent explanation on how the curse of knowledge may lead to poor prose. “The curse of knowledge is the single best explanation I know of why good people write bad prose.”
11. Ways on how to improve your prose. “Good prose is never written by a committee.” Think about that.
12. The importance of understanding syntax. “Finally, an awareness of syntax can help you avoid ambiguous, confusing, and convoluted sentences. All of this awareness depends on a basic grasp of what grammatical categories are, how they differ from functions and meanings, and how they fit into trees.”
13. Interesting insights on how our minds work and how that knowledge benefits good writing. “English syntax demands subject before object. Human memory demands light before heavy. Human comprehension demands topic before comment and given before new.”
14. How to construct coherent passages longer than a sentence. “In fact, it’s the hunger for coherence that drives the entire process of understanding language.”
15. Discusses principles of composition. “An important principle in composition is that the amount of verbiage one devotes to a point should not be too far out of line with how central it is to the argument. “
16. Discusses good use of grammar, word choice, and punctuation. Starts off by debunking the myth that all traditional rules must be followed for dogma’s sake. “That’s right: when it comes to correct English, there’s no one in charge; the lunatics are running the asylum. The editors of a dictionary read a lot, keeping their eyes open for new words and senses that are used by many writers in many contexts, and the editors add or change the definitions accordingly. Purists are often offended when they learn that this is how dictionaries are written.”
17. Presents a list of common usage issues. “These are the ones that repeatedly turn up in style guides, pet-peeve lists, newspaper language columns, irate letters to the editor, and inventories of common errors in student papers.” Great stuff.
18. Includes notes, glossary and a formal bibliography.
Negatives:
1. This book is intended for writers, not for laypersons. You must possess good command of the English language and grammar in order for this book to make sense. The grammar jargon will overwhelm the average reader.
2. The book’s formatting leads to confusion. For a book predicated on clarity, many times I was lost.
3. The writing may come across as pretentious.
4. I wanted more neuroscience.
In summary, there is a direct correlation between the amount of stars this book deserves and your expertise on the subject. English majors and writers will give this book either four or five stars. On the other hand, laypersons will struggle with it to say the least. I’m giving this book four stars because even though my engineering brethren balks at reading such a book the avid reader in me recognizes its value. Writers will enjoy this book while the rest will struggle with it.
Further recommendations: “The Elements of Style” by William Strunk Junior, “On Writing Well” by William Zinsser, “A Manual for Writers of Research Papers, Theses, and Dissertations” by Kate L. Turabian, “The Only Grammar Book You’ll Ever Need” by Susan Thurman and Larry Shea, “Book Writing Mistakes” by Jim Edwards, “How to Write Great Blog Posts that Engage Readers” by Steve Scott, “English Grammar for Dummies” by Geraldine Woods, and “Grammar Girl’s Punctuation 911” by Mignon Fogarty.
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