Bad diction: the uninhabited clause (7) – an egregious example

(Updated Below, September 5) I have frequently discussed examples of the overuse of uninhabited clauses, which is a form of bad diction. “Uninhabited clause” is my phrase for a main clause* with a subject that is a physical thing or a concept, as opposed to a person or group of persons. It is a main clause that has no people in it. We use uninhabited clauses in our writing every day; there’s nothing inherently wrong with them. But when we use a lot of them we confuse, tire and irritate our readers.

An example of the overuse of uninhabited clauses

Last week, Carl M. Cannon, Senior Washington Correspondent for Politics Daily, posted an egregious example of this type of bad diction. His article, “Mary Jo Kopechne and Chappaquiddick: America's Selective Memory,” begins with these two paragraphs:

“It was just a car accident, really, albeit one involving alcohol, excessive speed, and the late-night machinations of a married man partying with an unmarried woman. Although traffic fatalities happen all-too-frequently in this country, the reverberations of this one reached far beyond the families of the driver who escaped without injury and the passenger who perished. There’s no way to know for sure, but the accident at Dike Bridge on Chappaquiddick Island on July 18, 1969 probably cost Edward M. Kennedy the presidency. It certainly cost Mary Jo Kopechne her life.

“The one-car mishap was Teddy Kennedy’s fault, of course, no one disputes that. And his actions that followed – not summoning emergency personnel who might have saved her life, the cover-up of the facts, not even reporting the accident until the following morning – likely would have landed a man without political connections in prison. That thought has stuck in the craw of Kennedy critics and assorted conservatives for forty years. It was heartbreaking for her family and friends to experience the loss of a lovely, devout, and socially committed 28-year-old woman. For millions of Americans who never knew her, the tragic incident has fed a festering cultural grudge.”

Critique of the example

I’m sure you can feel it. Main clauses with non-human subjects feel academic, theoretical and irrelevant. Overall, the prose conveys to the reader a sense that “nobody’s doing anything.”

In these two paragraphs, Mr. Cannon has used nine main clauses. These nine main clauses have eleven subjects:

It
reverberations
way
accident
It
mishap
no one
actions
thought
It
incident

Ten of the eleven subjects are non-persons:

It
reverberations
way
accident
It
mishap
actions
thought
It
incident

One of the eleven subjects is a person (grammatically but not rhetorically):

no one

That’s why the prose conveys a feeling of “nobody’s doing anything.” But of course there really are people in these two paragraphs. Lots of people:

a married man
an unmarried woman
fatalities [that is, people who die in traffic accidents]
families of the driver and the passenger
no way to know [that is, people who can’t know]
Edward M. Kennedy
Mary Jo Kopechne
Teddy Kennedy
emergency personnel
her life [that is, Mary Jo Kopechne’s]
the cover-up [that is, Edward M. Kennedy covered up]
not even reporting [that is, Edward M. Kennedy did not even report]
would have landed [that is, Edward M. Kennedy would be in prison]
Kennedy critics
conservatives
her family and friends [that is, Mary Jo Kopechne’s]
woman
Americans
her [that is, Mary Jo Kopechne]

The writer downplays or hides all these persons, in various ways. For example, he makes them the objects of prepositions:

“late-night machinations of a married man”

Or he translates these persons into events:

“traffic fatalities happen all-too-frequently” [that is, too many people die in traffic accidents]

Or he recasts clauses to eliminate persons:

“There’s no way to know for sure” [that is, people can’t know for sure]

Or he makes persons possessive:

“The one-car mishap was Teddy Kennedy’s fault” [that is, Kennedy caused the one-car mishap]

Or he recasts sentences to express a person’s action not as a verb but as a noun:

“the cover-up of the facts” [that is, Kennedy covered up the facts]

Or as a gerund:

“not even reporting the accident until the following morning” [that is, Kennedy did not even report the accident until the following morning]

Or he makes persons direct objects:

“his actions… would have landed a man without political connections in prison” [that is, if a man without political connections had done these things, he would be in prison”]

Or he makes persons into adjectives:

“Kennedy critics”

In summary, Mr. Cannon has resorted to eight different kinds of grammatical tricks to avoid using persons as the subjects of main clauses. You can almost feel the strain as he labors to find places to tuck away these persons. That is why the copy feels contrived.

It takes skill and conscious effort to torture language in this way. Professional writers do not do this accidentally. When they do it, they know that they are risking the bad effects (confusing, tiring and irritating their readers) in order to achieve whatever goal they are aiming at.

I do not know – and cannot know – what goal Mr. Cannon had in mind when he wrote this. But when most people write this way, their goal is to “say something without really saying it,” or to say something but in a muted way. It is the same reason why we invent and use euphemisms, such as deceased for dead.

The Takeaway: Politicians prosper by insinuating, dissembling and lying. That’s why they are fond of rhetorical devices that obfuscate more than communicate. After years of habituation to these solecisms, a politician will use them all the time – even when he’s telling the truth. So, if you are not a politician, don’t emulate the writing and speech of politicians (there are exceptions; e.g., Julius Caesar and Winston Churchill). And don’t emulate the writing of reporters who have political beats; typically these reporters assimilate the bad writing habits of the politicians they cover. Remember, you are trying to communicate; the worst people you could ever emulate are people who work hard to avoid communicating.

*Also called primary clause, independent clause, and sentence.

Update, Saturday, September 5, 2009, 2:01 PM: In a comment on this post, Ernest Nicastro suggested that I rewrite the example to demonstrate an improvement in clarity. Here’s my rewrite:

It was just a car accident. A married man had been partying and drinking with an unmarried woman. He was speeding. He survived the accident and she did not. Tens of thousands of Americans die in car accidents every year, but when this woman died her death affected many people beyond her family and the family of the driver. We can’t know for sure, but Edward M. Kennedy probably could have become President had he not driven off the Dike Bridge on Chappaquiddick Island on July 18, 1969. We do know Mary Jo Kopechne would have enjoyed a longer life.

Teddy Kennedy caused the one-car accident, of course. No one disputes that. He also failed to summon emergency personnel who might have saved Mary Jo’s life. He delayed reporting the accident until the following morning, and he covered up the facts. If a man without political connections had done all those things, he would have gone to prison. That thought has stuck in the craw of Kennedy critics and assorted conservatives for forty years. Her family suffered the heartbreak of losing a lovely, devout, and socially committed 28-year-old woman. Millions of Americans who never knew her have carried a grudge to this day.

The original has 9 main clauses with 11 subjects
10 of the 11 subjects are non-persons
1 of the 11 subjects is a person
Flesch Reading Ease score is 35.2

The rewrite has 19 main clauses with 19 subjects
3 of the 19 subjects are non-persons
16 of the 19 subjects are persons or groups of persons
Flesch Reading Ease score is 60.1

Thanks for the suggestion. I hope this update helped clarify the point of the original post.