I saw a TV advertisement with this text: “More then (sic) free prescriptions;” another ad’s text touted “signiture (sic) tacos.” A large audience of television viewers were treated to advertisements with gross errors; the first used an adverb in the place of a preposition and the second misspelled “signature.” Where were the copy editors when these things were written and submitted? Nowhere: we are all copy editors because we post on social media. Social media gives a wider voice to a greater segment of society, but in many cases, there are no filters for the posts. Not First Amendment filters, for we have the right to express our opinions, but grammar and punctuation filters. Everyone has become a writer.
When I worked in the advertising departments of several department stores, I worked with people who were responsible for checking the accuracy of the copy written. They were called by various names — copy chiefs, copy managers and copy directors, proofreaders — but were all charged with the responsibility of making sure the words were correct. A big portion of that responsibility was legal: was the price correct and the markdowns indicated within company guidelines and city, state and federal laws? This was important to the store because they did not want to get sued, nor did they want to have to give up $1000 worth of merchandise for $100.
But now, advances in technology have enabled everyone to publish everything they think, and editors be damned. And social media gives a voice to all things, smart and dumb. (OK, that last statement is nasty, and I offer an insincere apology for it.) I read a book written by an educated man, a retired administrator for a school district. The book was self-published for reasons that I understand and respect, but the book had errors in grammar and punctuation that I believe went uncorrected because there was no other eye tuned on the manuscript than his. He had no editor, and though he is college educated and literate, mistakes were made.
I have a friend who effects an “e.e. cummings” style when she types. A poet, cummimgs is famous for — among other things — not using capital letters, and my friend also declines to do so. (She also eschews apostrophes and commas, though she still has periods.) When she writes “im not going because i cant,” she is choosing to communicate in a method that suits her style. But she is well read, educated, articulate and literate. I give her a pass. But those who post on social media “your,” instead of “you’re;” and “to,” in the place of “too” and “seen” in the place of “saw” do not get a pass.
I know, I know: we have bigger problems than the erosion of spelling and punctuation in America. I don’t contend that the fall of American civilization is being foretold by misspellings in social memes, but I wonder how it is possible to advance when we cannot write. I fear that the new normal is, “You Know What I Meant,” or “Close Enough.” It also troubles me that, despite the fact that almost every device on which we compose text has a method to check our spelling and grammar, we still get it wrong. When a social media meme misspells the president’s middle name as “Hussain,” that is understandable; spellcheck won’t challenge that. But how can so many people plow through an alert that says, “THIS IS A WEIRD WAY TO SPELL ‘SIGNATURE,’ RIGHT?” Spellcheck won’t challenge “then” for “than” in the example I noted earlier, but will “blue-squiggle” underline it as a way of saying, “ARE YOU SURE THIS IS WHAT YOU WANT?” We need to answer these questions, people. And when we peck out our angry screeds on the phones that are smarter than we are, let us — or in social-literacy speak, “lets” — pay attention to the alert that says, “RETHINK THIS SPELLING, DUDE.”
Or at least, get an editor.