Writing Guides

By Bruce Shawkey

As a journalist, I was introduced early on to Strunk and White's "Elements of Style." It emphasized economy in writing, minimal use of adjectives, and stating things in the active, rather than passive, voice:

Passive Voice: A delicious meal was cooked by the chef.

Active Voice: The chef cooked a delicious meal.

I found it interesting that co-author E.B. White was also the author of Charlotte's Web, a 1952 children's novel. Be that as it may, White's advice on good writing was, and is, sound, and this book is still regarded as must-reading for budding journalists.

Another excellent book of great interest to the journalist is William Zinser's "On Writing Well." First published in 1976, it has since gone through multiple editions and updates. Like Strunk and White's book, it emphasizes the importance of simplicity and brevity in writing. It is widely regarded as another classic instruction book on writing well. Zinsser (October 7, 1922 – May 12, 2015) was an American writer, editor, literary critic, and teacher. He began his career as a journalist for the New York Herald Tribune, where he worked as a feature writer.

Here is a sample of Zinser's writing and the re-write according to ChatGPT:

Fighting clutter is like fighting weeds—the writer is always behind. New varieties sprout overnight, and by noon they are part of American speech. Consider what President Nixon's aide John Dean accomplished in just one day of testimony on television during the Watergate hearings. The next day everyone in America was saying "at this point in time" instead of "now." Consider all the prepositions that are draped onto verbs that don't need any help. We no longer head committees. We head them up. We don't face problems anymore. We face up to them when we can free up a few minutes.

A small detail, you may say, not worth bothering about. It IS worth bothering about. Writing improves in direct ratio to the number of things we can keep out of it that shouldn't be there. "Up" in "free up" shouldn't be there. Examine every word you put on paper. You'll find  surprising number that don't serve any purpose.

Take the adjective "personal," as in "a personal friend of mine," "his personal feeling" or "her personal physician." It's typical of hundreds of words that can be eliminated. The personal friend has come into the language to distinguish him or her from the business friend, thereby debasing both language and friendship. 

As for the personal physician, that's the man or woman summoned to the dressing room of a stricken actress so she won't have to be treated by the impersonal physician assigned to the theater. Someday I'd like to see that person identified as "her doctor." Physicians are physicians, friends are friends. The rest is clutter.

Clutter is the laborious phrase that has pushed out the short word that means the same thing. Even before John Dean, people and businesses had stopped saying "now." They were saying "currently" ("all our operators are currently busy"), or "at the present time," or "presently" (which means "soon"). Yet the idea can always be expressed by "now" to mean the immediate moment ("Now I can see him"), or by "today" to mean the historical present ("Today prices are high"), or simply by the verb "to be" ("It is raining").

There's no need to say, "At the present time we are experiencing precipitation."

"Experiencing" is one of the ultimate clutterers. Even your dentist will ask if you are experiencing any pain. If he had his own kid in the chair he would say, "Does it hurt?" He would, in short, be himself. By using a more pompous phrase in his professional role he not only sounds more important; he blunts the

painful edge of truth. It's the language of the flight attendant demonstrating the oxygen mask that will drop down if the plane should run out of air. "In the unlikely possibility that the aircraft should experience such an eventuality," she begins — a phrase so oxygen-depriving in itself that we are prepared forany disaster.

Clutter is the ponderous euphemism that turns a slum into a depressed socioeconomic area, garbage collectors into waste disposal personnel and the town dump into the volume reduction unit. I think of Bill Mauldin s cartoon of two hoboes riding a freight car. One of them says, "I started as a simple bum, but now I'm hard-core unemployed." Clutter is political correctness gone amok. I saw an ad for a boys' camp designed to provide "individual attention for the minimally exceptional."

Clutter is the official language used by corporations to hide their mistakes. When the Digital Equipment Corporation eliminated 3,000 jobs its statement didn't mention layoffs; those were "involuntary methodologies." When an Air Force missile crashed, it "impacted with the ground prematurely." When General Motors had a plant shutdown, that was a "volume-related production-schedule adjustment." Companies that go belly-up have "a negative cash-flow position."

Here is the rewrite as done by ChapGPT:

Fighting clutter in your writing is a lot like fighting weeds in a garden. You pull a few out today, and tomorrow a whole new crop has appeared. Empty phrases have a way of sneaking into everyday speech almost overnight.

A good example came during the Watergate hearings. After John Dean repeatedly used the phrase "at this point in time," people across the country started saying it instead of the much simpler word "now." That's how quickly clutter spreads.

Then there are all the little extra words we attach to perfectly good verbs. We don't just head a committee anymore—we head it up. We don't simply face a problem—we face up to it. We don't free a few minutes—we free up a few minutes. Those extra words may seem harmless, but they add nothing. They just make sentences heavier.

Good writing gets stronger every time you remove words that aren't earning their keep. The little word up in free up isn't doing any work. Get into the habit of questioning every word you write. You'll be surprised how many can disappear without changing the meaning.

Take the word personal. People talk about a personal friend, his personal feelings, or her personal physician. In most cases, personal adds nothing. A friend is already personal. If the feelings belong to him, they're obviously his personal feelings. And unless someone has both a doctor and a robot doctor, personal physician is just another way of saying doctor.

Clutter often shows up when a long, fancy phrase replaces a short, clear word. Instead of saying now, people say currently, at the present time, or presently. But almost every one of those phrases can be replaced with now, today, or simply by writing a stronger sentence. There's no reason to write, "At the present time we are experiencing precipitation," when "It's raining" says exactly the same thing.

One of the worst offenders is the word experiencing. Your dentist may ask, "Are you experiencing any pain?" But if it were his own child in the chair, he'd simply ask, "Does it hurt?" The longer version sounds more professional, but it also sounds less human.

The same thing happens in airline announcements. Instead of saying, "If the cabin loses pressure..." they bury the message under layers of official language about "the unlikely event that the aircraft should experience such an eventuality." By the time they're finished, you need the oxygen mask just to get through the sentence.

Clutter also thrives in euphemisms. A slum becomes a depressed socioeconomic area. Garbage collectors become waste disposal personnel. The town dump becomes a volume reduction unit. It's language designed to make ordinary things sound more important—or less unpleasant.

Bill Mauldin captured this perfectly in one of his cartoons. Two hoboes are riding a freight train, and one says, "I started as a simple bum, but now I'm hard-core unemployed." That's clutter in a nutshell.

Businesses and government agencies are especially good at it. Instead of admitting they laid people off, companies announce "involuntary workforce reductions" or "organizational realignments." A missile doesn't crash—it impacts the ground prematurely. A factory isn't shut down—it undergoes a volume-related production schedule adjustment. And a company doesn't run out of money—it has a negative cash-flow position.

The lesson is simple: whenever you're tempted to use a longer, fancier phrase, stop and ask yourself whether a plain word would do the job better. Most of the time, it will. Clear writing isn't about adding impressive words. It's about taking away the ones that don't belong.