asking, what is man? what are his needs? how can he best express himself?
   one would discover that merely having the power to avoid work and live
   one's life from birth to death in electric light and to the tune of
   tinned music is not a reason for doing so. Man needs warmth, society,
   leisure, comfort and security: he also needs solitude, creative work and
   the sense of wonder. If he recognised this he could use the products of
   science and industrialism eclectically, applying always the same test:
   does this make me more human or less human? He would then learn that the
   highest happiness does not lie in relaxing, resting, playing poker,
   drinking and making love simultaneously. And the instinctive horror which
   all sensitive people feel at the progressive mechanisation of life would
   be seen not to be a mere sentimental archaism, but to be fully justified.
   For man only stays human by preserving large patches of simplicity in his
   life, while the tendency of many modern inventions-in particular the
   film, the radio and the aeroplane-is to weaken his consciousness, dull
   his curiosity, and, in general, drive him nearer to the animals.
   POLITICS AND THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE
   Most people who bother with the matter at all would admit that the
   English language is in a bad way, but it is generally assumed that we
   cannot by conscious action do anything about it. Our civilization is
   decadent, and our language--so the argument runs--must inevitably share
   in the general collapse. It follows that any struggle against the abuse
   of language is a sentimental archaism, like preferring candles to
   electric light or hansom cabs to aeroplanes. Underneath this lies the
   half-conscious belief that language is a natural growth and not an
   instrument which we shape for our own purposes.
   Now, it is clear that the decline of a language must ultimately have
   political and economic causes: it is not due simply to the bad influence
   of this or that individual writer. But an effect can become a cause,
   reinforcing the original cause and producing the same effect in an
   intensified form, and so on indefinitely. A man may take to drink because
   he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely
   because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the
   English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are
   foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to
   have foolish thoughts. The point is that the process is reversible.
   Modern English, especially written English, is full of bad habits which
   spread by imitation and which can be avoided if one is willing to take
   the necessary trouble. If one gets rid of these habits one can think more
   clearly, and to think clearly is a necessary first step towards political
   regeneration: so that the fight against bad English is not frivolous and
   is not the exclusive concern of professional writers. I will come back to
   this presently, and I hope that by that time the meaning of what I have
   said here will have become clearer. Meanwhile, here are five specimens of
   the English language as it is now habitually written.
   These five passages have not been picked out because they are especially
   bad--I could have quoted far worse if I had chosen--but because they
   illustrate various of the mental vices from which we now suffer. They are
   a little below the average, but are fairly representative samples. I
   number them so that I can refer back to them when necessary:
   (1) I am not, indeed, sure whether it is not true to say that the Milton
   who once seemed not unlike a seventeenth-century Shelley had not become,
   out of an experience ever more bitter in each year, more alien (sic) to
   the founder of that Jesuit sect which nothing could induce him to
   tolerate.
   PROFESSOR HAROLD LASKI (Essay in FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION)
   (2) Above all, we cannot play ducks and drakes with a native battery of
   idioms which prescribes such egregious collocations of vocables as the
   Basic PUT UP WITH for TOLERATE or PUT AT A LOSS for BEWILDER.
   PROFESSOR LANCELOT HOGBEN (INTERGLOSSA)
   (3) On the one side we have the free personality; by definition it is not
   neurotic, for it has neither conflict nor dream. Its desires, such as
   they are, are transparent, for they are just what institutional approval
   keeps in the forefront of consciousness; another institutional pattern
   would alter their number and intensity; there is little in them that is
   natural, irreducible, or culturally dangerous. But ON THE OTHER SIDE, the
   social bond itself is nothing but the mutual reflection of these
   self-secure integrities. Recall the definition of love. Is not this the
   very picture of a small academic? Where is there a place in this hall of
   mirrors for either personality or fraternity?
   Essay on psychology in POLITICS (New York)
   (4) All the "best people" from the gentlemen's clubs, and all the frantic
   fascist captains, united in common hatred of Socialism and bestial horror
   of the rising tide of the mass revolutionary movement, have turned to
   acts of provocation, to foul incendiarism, to medieval legends of
   poisoned wells, to legalize their own destruction of proletarian
   organizations, and rouse the agitated petty-bourgeoisie to chauvinistic
   fervor on behalf of the fight against the revolutionary way out of the
   crisis.
   Communist pamphlet
   (5) If a new spirit is to be infused into this old country, there is one
   thorny and contentious reform which must be tackled, and that is the
   humanization and galvanization of the B.B.C. Timidity here will bespeak
   canker and atrophy of the soul. The heart of Britain may lee sound and of
   strong beat, for instance, but the British lion's roar at present is like
   that of Bottom in Shakespeare's MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM--as gentle as any
   sucking dove. A virile new Britain cannot continue indefinitely to be
   traduced in the eyes, or rather ears, of the world by the effete languors
   of Langham Place, brazenly masquerading as "standard English." When the
   Voice of Britain is heard at nine o'clock, better far and infinitely less
   ludicrous to hear aitches honestly dropped than the present priggish,
   inflated, inhibited, school-ma'am-ish arch braying of blameless bashful
   mewing maidens.
   Letter in TRIBUNE
   Each of these passages has faults of its own, but quite apart from
   avoidable ugliness, two qualities are common to all of them. The first is
   staleness of imagery; the other is lack of precision. The writer either
   has a meaning and cannot express it, or he inadvertently says something
   else, or he is almost indifferent as to whether his words mean anything
   or not. This mixture of vagueness and sheer incompetence is the most
   marked characteristic of modern English prose, and especially of any kind
   of political writing. As soon as certain topics are raised, the concrete
   melts into the abstract and no one seems able to think of turns of speech
   that are not hackneyed: prose consists less and less of WORDS chosen for
   the sake of their meaning, and more and more of PHRASES tacked together
 &n 
					     					 			bsp; like the sections of a prefabricated hen-house. I list below, with notes
   and examples, various of the tricks by means of which the work of
   prose-construction is habitually dodged:
   DYING METAPHORS. A newly-invented metaphor assists thought by evoking a
   visual image, while on the other hand a metaphor which is technically
   "dead" (e.g., IRON RESOLUTION) has in effect reverted to being an
   ordinary word and can generally be used without loss of vividness. But in
   between these two classes there is a huge dump of worn-out metaphors
   which have lost all evocative power and are merely used because they save
   people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves. Examples are:
   RING THE CHANGES ON, TAKE UP THE CUDGELS FOR, TOE THE LINE, RIDE
   ROUGHSHOD OVER, STAND SHOULDER TO SHOULDER WITH, PLAY INTO THE HANDS OF,
   AN AXE TO GRIND, GRIST TO THE MILL, FISHING IN TROUBLED WATERS, ON THE
   ORDER OF THE DAY, ACHILLES' HEEL, SWAN SONG, HOTBED. Many of these are
   used without knowledge of their meaning (what is a "rift," for
   instance?), and incompatible metaphors are frequently mixed, a sure sign
   that the writer is not interested in what he is saying. Some metaphors
   now current have been twisted out of their original meaning without those
   who use them even being aware of the fact. For example, TOE THE LINE is
   sometimes written TOW THE LINE. Another example is THE HAMMER AND THE
   ANVIL, now always used with the implication that the anvil gets the worst
   of it. In real life it is always the anvil that breaks the hammer, never
   the other way about: a writer who stopped to think what he was saying
   would be aware of this, and would avoid perverting the original phrase.
   OPERATORS, or VERBAL FALSE LIMBS. These save the trouble of picking out
   appropriate verbs and nouns, and at the same time pad each sentence with
   extra syllables which give it an appearance of symmetry. Characteristic
   phrases are: RENDER INOPERATIVE, MILITATE AGAINST, PROVE UNACCEPTABLE,
   MAKE CONTACT WITH, BE SUBJECTED TO, GIVE RISE TO, GIVE GROUNDS FOR,
   HAVING THE EFFECT OF, PLAY A LEADING PART (R?LE) IN, MAKE ITSELF FELT,
   TAKE EFFECT, EXHIBIT A TENDENCY TO, SERVE THE PURPOSE OF, etc., etc. The
   keynote is the elimination of simple verbs. Instead of being a single
   word, such as BREAK, STOP, SPOIL, MEND, KILL, a verb becomes a PHRASE,
   made up of a noun or adjective tacked on to some general-purposes verb as
   PROVE, SERVE, FORM, PLAY, RENDER. In addition, the passive voice is
   wherever possible used in preference to the active, and noun
   constructions are used instead of gerunds (BY EXAMINATION OF instead of
   BY EXAMINING). The range of verbs is further cut down by means of the
   '-IZE' AND 'DE-' formations, and banal statements are given an appearance
   of profundity by means of the NOT 'UN-' formation. Simple conjunctions and
   prepositions are replaced by such phrases as WITH RESPECT TO, HAVING
   REGARD TO, THE FACT THAT, BY DINT OF, IN VIEW OF, IN THE INTERESTS OF, ON
   THE HYPOTHESIS THAT; and the ends of sentences are saved from anti-climax
   by such resounding commonplaces as GREATLY TO BE DESIRED, CANNOT BE LEFT
   OUT OF ACCOUNT, A DEVELOPMENT TO BE EXPECTED IN THE NEAR FUTURE,
   DESERVING OF SERIOUS CONSIDERATION, BROUGHT TO A SATISFACTORY CONCLUSION,
   and so on and so forth.
   PRETENTIOUS DICTION. Words like PHENOMENON, ELEMENT, INDIVIDUAL (as
   noun), OBJECTIVE, CATEGORICAL, EFFECTIVE, VIRTUAL, BASIS, PRIMARY,
   PROMOTE, CONSTITUTE, EXHIBIT, EXPLOIT, UTILIZE, ELIMINATE, LIQUIDATE, are
   used to dress up simple statements and give an air of scientific
   impartiality to biased judgments. Adjectives like EPOCH-MAKING, EPIC,
   HISTORIC, UNFORGETTABLE, TRIUMPHANT, AGE-OLD, INEVITABLE, INEXORABLE,
   VERITABLE, are used to dignify the sordid processes of international
   politics, while writing that aims at glorifying war usually takes on an
   archaic color, its characteristic words being: REALM, THRONE, CHARIOT,
   MAILED FIST, TRIDENT, SWORD, SHIELD, BUCKLER, BANNER, JACKBOOT, CLARION.
   Foreign words and expressions such as CUL DE SAC, ANCIEN R?GIME, DEUS EX
   MACHINA, MUTATIS MUTANDIS, STATUS QUO, GLEICHSCHALTUNG, WELTANSCHAUUNG,
   are used to give an air of culture and elegance. Except for the useful
   abbreviations I.E., E.G., and ETC., there is no real need for any of the
   hundreds of foreign phrases now current in English. Bad writers, and
   especially scientific, political and sociological writers, are nearly
   always haunted by the notion that Latin or Greek words are grander than
   Saxon ones, and unnecessary words like EXPEDITE, AMELIORATE, PREDICT,
   EXTRANEOUS, DERACINATED, CLANDESTINE, SUB-AQUEOUS and hundreds of others
   constantly gain ground from their Anglo-Saxon opposite numbers. [Note 1,
   below] The jargon peculiar to Marxist writing (HYENA, HANGMAN, CANNIBAL,
   PETTY BOURGEOIS, THESE GENTRY, LACKEY, FLUNKEY, MAD DOG, WHITE GUARD,
   etc.) consists largely of words and phrases translated from Russian,
   German or French; but the normal way of coining a new word is to use a
   Latin or Greek root with the appropriate affix and, where necessary, the
   '-ize' formation. It is often easier to make up words of this kind
   (DE-REGIONALIZE, IMPERMISSIBLE, EXTRAMARITAL, NON-FRAGMENTARY and so
   forth) than to think up the English words that will cover one's meaning.
   The result, in general, is an increase in slovenliness and vagueness.
   [Note: 1. An interesting illustration of this is the way in which the
   English flower names which were in use till very recently are being
   ousted by Greek ones, SNAPDRAGON becoming ANTIRRHINUM, FORGET-ME-NOT
   becoming MYOSOTIS, etc. It is hard to see any practical reason for this
   change of fashion: it is probably due to an instinctive turning-away
   from the more homely word and a vague feeling that the Greek word is
   scientific. (Author's footnote.)]
   MEANINGLESS WORDS. In certain kinds of writing, particularly in art
   criticism and literary criticism, it is normal to come across long
   passages which are almost completely lacking in meaning. [Note, below]
   Words like ROMANTIC, PLASTIC, VALUES, HUMAN, DEAD, SENTIMENTAL, NATURAL,
   VITALITY, as used in art criticism, are strictly meaningless, in the
   sense that they not only do not point to any discoverable object, but
   are hardly even expected to do so by the reader. When one critic writes,
   "The outstanding feature of Mr. X's work is its living quality," while
   another writes, "The immediately striking thing about Mr. X's work is
   its peculiar deadness," the reader accepts this as a simple difference
   of opinion If words like BLACK and WHITE were involved, instead of the
   jargon words DEAD and LIVING, he would see at once that language was
   being used in an improper way. Many political words are similarly
   abused. The word FASCISM has now no meaning except in so far as it
   signifies "something not desirable." The words DEMOCRACY, SOCIALISM,
   FREEDOM, PATRIOTIC, REALISTIC, JUSTICE, have each of them several
   different meanings which cannot be reconciled with one another. In the
   case of a word like DEMOCRACY, not only is there no agreed definition,
   but the attempt to make one is resisted from all sides. It is almos 
					     					 			t
   universally felt that when we call a country democratic we are praising
   it: consequently the defenders of every kind of r?gime claim that it is
   a democracy, and fear that they might have to stop using the word if it
   were tied down to any one meaning. Words of this kind are often used in
   a consciously dishonest way. That is, the person who uses them has his
   own private definition, but allows his hearer to think he means
   something quite different. Statements like MARSHAL P?TAIN WAS A TRUE
   PATRIOT, THE SOVIET PRESS IS THE FREEST IN THE WORLD, THE CATHOLIC
   CHURCH IS OPPOSED TO PERSECUTION, are almost always made with intent to
   deceive. Other words used in variable meanings, in most cases more or
   less dishonestly, are: CLASS, TOTALITARIAN, SCIENCE, PROGRESSIVE,
   REACTIONARY BOURGEOIS, EQUALITY.
   [Note: Example: "Comfort's catholicity of perception and image, strangely
   Whitmanesque in range, almost the exact opposite in aesthetic compulsion,
   continues to evoke that trembling atmospheric accumulative hinting at a
   cruel, an inexorably serene timelessness...Wrey Gardiner scores by
   aiming at simple bulls-eyes with precision. Only they are not so simple,
   and through this contented sadness runs more than the surface bittersweet
   of resignation." (POETRY QUARTERLY.) (Author's footnote.)]
   Now that I have made this catalogue of swindles and perversions, let me
   give another example of the kind of writing that they lead to. This time
   it must of its nature be an imaginary one. I am going to translate a
   passage of good English into modern English of the worst sort. Here is a
   well-known verse from ECCLESIASTES:
   I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor
   the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches
   to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill; but time and
   chance happeneth.
   Here it is in modern English:
   Objective consideration of contemporary phenomena compels the conclusion
   that success or failure in competitive activities exhibits no tendency to
   be commensurate with innate capacity, but that a considerable element of
   the unpredictable must invariably be taken into account.
   This is a parody, but not a very gross one. Exhibit (3), above, for
   instance, contains several patches of the same kind of English. It will
   be seen that I have not made a full translation. The beginning and ending
   of the sentence follow the original meaning fairly closely, but in the
   middle the concrete illustrations--race, battle, bread--dissolve into the
   vague phrase "success or failure in competitive activities." This had to
   be so, because no modern writer of the kind I am discussing--no one
   capable of using phrases like "objective consideration of contemporary
   phenomena"--would ever tabulate his thoughts in that precise and detailed
   way. The whole tendency of modern prose is away from concreteness. Now
   analyze these two sentences a little more closely. The first contains 49
   words but only 60 syllables, and all its words are those of everyday
   life. The second contains 38 words of 90 syllables: 18 of its words are
   from Latin roots, and one from Greek. The first sentence contains six
   vivid images, and only one phrase ("time and chance") that could be
   called vague. The second contains not a single fresh, arresting phrase,
   and in spite of its 90 syllables it gives only a shortened version of the
   meaning contained in the first. Yet without a doubt it is the second kind
   of sentence that is gaining ground in modern English. I do not want to
   exaggerate. This kind of writing is not yet universal, and outcrops of
   simplicity will occur here and there in the worst-written page. Still, if
   you or I were told to write a few lines on the uncertainty of human
   fortunes, we should probably come much nearer to my imaginary sentence
   than to the one from ECCLESIASTES.