Obligate: Two Words, One Spelling

I read a book in which the big baddy was an organization called Obligate. The author chose not to explain the reason for that name until halfway through the story, which meant that I did not know how to pronounce it for about two hundred pages. It surprised me how distracting that was.

If you are scratching your head, wondering what other pronunciation I’m writing about, this post is for you. Obligate does double duty, as both a verb and an adjective. You pronounce the two forms differently, however. When used as a verb, whether it’s compelling someone or committing funds, you say OB-li-gate (with a long A). That’s the form with which most people are familiar.

However, if you’re a biologist you likely use the word much differently. When referring to an organism that can live only in a particular environment or in a specific role in an ecosystem you call it OB-li-gƏt (with a short A represented by the schwa). The dictionary says you can use the long-A pronunciation of obligate as an alternate but it seems to me that doing so would only create confusion.

In case you’re curious, the organization in the book used the second definition and thus, when reading to myself, I used the short-A pronunciation of obligate. The rest of the book was much more interesting when I didn’t stop to wonder about that every third page. Think about how your readers will interpret such ambiguous words when you’re naming things in your own writing.

There! You get both a language and a writing tip in one post, something as dual-purpose as the word obligate itself.

Word Tidbits: Discreet versus Discrete

I doubt most people realize that discrete and discreet are discretely separate words. Today I thought I’d explain the slight difference between the two adjectives and clear up any confusion.

Discreet refers to cautious or tactful action. The word generally applies to something secret, such as a discreet rendezvous, or that you wish kept quiet, like dropping a discreet word in someone’s ear to let them know they have toilet paper stuck to their shoe after a trip to the facilities. Off the top of my head I can think of only one way I’ve seen discrete used regularly: to follow someone at a discrete distance.

While at first blush the two words look interchangeable in fact the latter implies not secrecy but separation. Discrete means something that is isolated or distinct from something else. Much of the confusion between the two words arises from the fact that people who follow someone at a discrete distance are usually trying to be discreet. Were they not they would simply travel with the person they’re trailing in the first place, thus eliminating the need for discretion entirely.

In that last sentence we find the rest of the reason that people conflate discreet and discrete. The noun form of both words is identical. It’s no wonder people don’t realize they are two discrete terms. Next time I'll post a difference on two more discrete words: confuse and conflate. Be discreet and don't spread it around, okay?

Grammar.net 2011 Contest and a Thank You

The darling folks at Grammar.net have nominated One Step Forward for the Grammar.net "Best Grammar Blog of 2011"! If you would be so kind, and if you agree, do click over to their contest page and vote for this humble attempt to explore the English language. (Note: They've listed it as "Legbamel's blog on writing" rather than its official name.  Further note: They've fixed the listing and now it's under One Step Forward and open for voting now!)

Such kindnesses keep me interested in writing about writing and English grammar, as do the comments and questions from you interested readers. Thus I'm taking this as an opportunity both to toot my own horn and to thank you all for helping me to prove that grammar is alive and well in the twenty-first century, text messaging and L337-speak be darned. I may not post as often as I used to do but writing and English fascinate me as much as ever.  There's definitely more to come!

Hyphens and the Compound Adjective

We’ve never tackled compound adjectives, here on One Step Forward, partly because it’s such a complex subject. Often you can make your sentence clearer by using an adjectival phrase or clause rather than worrying about whether to hyphenate. But today we’re going to ease your fears and explain just when to put that pesky hyphen between words in a compound adjective.

Here’s the short version: hyphenate when you place the compound adjective in the sentence before the noun.

This too-simple rule, however, does not address some specific kinds of adjectives. For instance, you would hyphenate a “one-week extension” but you would not add a hyphen to the possessive form, “one week’s extension”. And then there are compound adjectives that you write as a single word, a surefire way to confuse people.

Add to this the fact that, in a passive construction where the adjective end up as the predicate you still hyphenate. Thus you would write about a hard-core song, “This song is hard-core.” User-friendly programs are user-friendly.

Note that a compound adjective can consist of other parts of speech. You may have a noun and a participle, as with an attention-getting headline, or even a pair of nouns used to describe a third. The latter depends more on the nature of the words used than the placement. You would write about an African-American teacher but a Supreme Court decision, the space-time continuum but a real estate exam.

When the nouns refer to a well-known concept or an institution they need not be hyphenated. Thus a life insurance salesman does not require a hyphen while a roller-derby skater might. You may fill out your tax return form but only after performing a cost-benefit analysis.

“Wait!” you may cry. “Everyone knows what a cost-benefit analysis is.” But therein lies another wrinkle in the hyphenation question. Two nouns of essentially equal importance should be hyphenated when used as a compound adjective. Whether the social or the security means more, you still get a social security check if you qualify.

All of this ignores the fact that some pairs of words become a single, compound word and others do not. Skin diving stays just that when used as an adjective but skydiving is a single word. Housewarming parties get no hyphen but your house-sitter does. Adding more modifiers to a noun doesn’t change the hyphenation rules, either. The ever-popular, oft-misunderstood space-time continuum keeps all of those little dashes.

So how do you figure out whether to hyphenate commonly-used phrases? Sadly, the best answer remains the same thing your mother told you when you asked her how to spell something: look it up in the dictionary. Maybe someday I’ll be brave enough to tackle compound adverbs.

Word Tidbits: Reveille vs. Revelry vs. Reverie

A recent incident sparked this post: I heard someone singing Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy (of Company B) and, yet again, use the word revelry instead of reveille. I thought perhaps I should point out to folks that the two words have absolutely nothing to do with one another. If you substitute one for the other you'll be blowing nonsense. Then I thought of reverie, a third word that sounds similar but, again, has a very different meaning.

Reveille, as you may guess from the spelling, comes to us from the French imperative réveillez with its understood vous. If you shout, “Réveillez!” you mean, “Wake up!” The term in English refers to both the bugle call at sunrise that signals time for troops to form up and the actual formation that results. Thus when the Bugle Boy of Company B plays reveille in boogie woogie fashion it makes the company jump to its positions (and perhaps dance about once there).

Now, should Bugle Boy, whom I'll just call BB to save repetition, get those soldiers jumping they may turn to revelry instead of standing at attention as they should. Revelry pretty well opposes military order and discipline. It's the word for partying, merrrymaking, and general festive good times. I suppose BB could play a song called Revelry but that's not what The Andrews Sisters meant.

Reverie stands utterly opposed to both revelry and the focus of soldiers organizing themselves into ranks. Rather than stiff attention or cheery dancing, someone in a reverie daydreams, is lost in thought and as likely to bump into his or her fellows as anything else. As it's early in the morning I suppose some of the troops might be lost in reverie, their minds still in their beds and on their dreams. But if BB blows something so mellow and emotive as to encourage that condition the company will never get into reveille.

Thus you can see that our vigilant BB leaps from his bunk to play reveille at the base of the flag, not to incite revelry or plunge his fellows into reverie. If he gets a little boogie into the steps of the others perhaps that enthusiasm would be no bad thing. But partying and woolgathering have no place in forming up ranks at the crack of dawn, whatever soldiers do on their off time. Click the song name above to find a series of different versions of the song. En Vogue manages to have poor BB playing reverie. You may be rolling your eyes as much as I did when I heard it.