Matters of style: Internet (or is it “internet”?) terms

Got into an interesting exchange on Twitter last night about how higher ed marketing people address writing style for Internet lingo.

I found it interesting that many people whom I consider to be “cutting-edge” when it comes to social media and online communication still lean heavily on the granddaddy of style guides, The Associated Press Stylebook. Even when it comes to writing about this online world we’re so immersed in. They still capitalize “Web,” hyphenate “e-mail” and consider “Web site” two words. I forgot to ask whether they still call blogs “web logs.” How quaint would that be?

I have nothing against the AP Stylebook. In journalism school, it was holy writ. And on our campus, we’ve used AP style as the foundation for our own university style. But let’s face it. The AP Stylebook editors are a conservative lot. They’re years behind the time. And they don’t have the humor of the old UPI Stylebook editors, who inserted this witty entry amidst all the stylistic rules:

burro, burrow A burro is an ass. A burrow is a hole in the ground. As a journalist, you are expected to know the difference.

When it comes to Internet terms, I think the AP rules are not only humorless, but unnecessarily staid. Irrelevantly staid, even.

So over the past several years, we’ve veered away from the AP rules for our own in-house style when it comes to Internet terms. We’ve looked to other sources for guidance — namely, Wired Style: Principles of English Usage in the Digital Age, by Constance Hale and Jessie Scanlon. As a result, we changed our style way back in the early 200s 2000s to lowercase “web,” combine (and lowercase) “website” and dehyphenate “email.” I don’t think it’s that radical. As we observe in our in-house style guide:

Missouri S&T uses a combination of Wired and Associated Press styles when writing about the Internet. Because most of our audiences are Internet-savvy, we feel more comfortable embracing the less formal style of Wired as opposed to the conservative approach of the Associated Press Stylebook.

One argument against violating the sacred rules of AP may come from the media relations folks, who will claim (as I once did) that we’re writing for journalists, and journalists follow AP style. Pish posh. We’re not writing for journalists anymore. We’re writing directly to our various audiences, and more and more of them are getting their information from onlline sources.

Back in 2004, Wired decided to lowercase the “i” in “internet, a move that I just can’t bring myself to embrace. Yet.

Still, I admire Wired’s chutzpah. The Wired editors’ argument for lowercasing the i-word makes sense. “The simple answer is because there is no earthly reason to capitalize any of these words [internet, net, web]. Actually, there never was.”

They went on to poke fun at those of us who clink to our style guides like well-worn security blankets:

True believers are fond of capitalizing words, whether they be marketers or political junkies or, in this case, techies. If It’s Capitalized, It Must Be Important. In German, where all nouns are capitalized, it makes sense. It makes no sense in English. So until we become Die Wired Nachrichten, we’ll just follow customary English-language usage.

Interestingly, Wired has yet to incorporate downstyle in its headlines. (The headline to the post referenced above was, “It’s Just the ‘internet’ Now.” Note all those capitalized words. What’s up with that — other than the first letter of every word except the one that most of us would uppercase?)

Anyway, with all of Steve Jobs’ new lowercase “i” words now so prevalent — iPods, iPhones — maybe now is the time to boldly embrace the newfangled lowercase internet.

Or maybe it should be iNternet? I bet Steve Jobs would love that.

A bit of inspiration for 2009

Happy New Year’s Day, everyone. This being 2009, I should start the new year with a fresh, positive approach. (Yes, this is a 180 from my somewhat cynical Dec. 31 post, but 2008 was a long, arduous year.) So here are some nice motivational and inspirational nuggets from around the web.

An incomplete manifesto for growth, from Bruce Mau Design (hat tip to Brand Autopsy). Written in 1998, the manifesto is “an articulation of statements exemplifying Bruce Mau’s beliefs, strategies and motivations,” the company’s website says. “Collectively, they are how we approach every project.” Great words of wisdom for designers and creative types, as well as for the rest of us. The list of 43 things is well worth reading, printing out and posting on your wall. Here are a few of my favorites from the list:

12. Slow down.
Desynchronize from standard time frames and surprising opportunities may present themselves.

32. Listen carefully.
Every collaborator who enters our orbit brings with him or her a world more strange and complex than any we could ever hope to imagine. By listening to the details and the subtlety of their needs, desires, or ambitions, we fold their world onto our own. Neither party will ever be the same.

42. Remember.
Growth is only possible as a product of history. Without memory, innovation is merely novelty. History gives growth a direction. But a memory is never perfect. Every memory is a degraded or composite image of a previous moment or event. That’s what makes us aware of its quality as a past and not a present. It means that every memory is new, a partial construct different from its source, and, as such, a potential for growth itself.

For those in management, remember: you (we) perform every day. Author Bob Sutton posted this excerpt from a book by a theater director and related how it — and other portions of the book — pertain to bosses everywhere.

As a director, you are there to explain things to people and to tell them what to do (even if it means telling them that they can do whatever they want). Speak clearly. Speak Briefly. Guard against the director’s first great vice – rabbiting on, making the same point again and again, getting laughs from your inimitable (and interminable) anecdotes, wasting time.

And guard against the the second great vice, the idiot fill-in phrases: “You know,” “I mean,” “Sort of…,” “Kind of…,” “Er, er um….” These are bad enough in ordinary conversation; coming from someone who may be giving instructions for up to three hours a day, they can be a justification for homicide.

Be proactive in ’09. Advice from one of the most proactive higher ed bloggers I know, Brad J. Ward.

Lessons from the art of jazz: part 1 and part 2. Garr Reynolds (Presentation Zen) draws lessons from the book Moving to Higher Ground: How Jazz Can Change your Life, by Wynton Marsalis and Geoffrey Ward, and applies them to his own passion: presentation.

Data itself is always dry without meaning. Yet, you can add the spirit of jazz to it in a presentation. By “spirit of jazz” I mean the complete opposite of how people usually use the term jazz as in “jazz it up” (that is, decorate it up). If the intent is pure and the message clear then that is all you can do. Jazz means removing the barriers and making it accessible, helping people to get your point (your message, your story). This does not necessarily mean you will always be direct (though this is often the clearest path). Hint and suggestion are powerful too. The difference is hint and suggestion with intent has a purpose and is done with the audience/user in mind. Hint and suggestion without intent or sincerity may merely result in simplistic, ineffective ramblings or even obsfucation.

If you approach the presentation of the data like a jazz musician approaches a piece of music then you will indeed be true to the message and the meaning of the data and you will make it “sticky and sweet” and not dry in the sense that you are understood. You will know you are understood when you see the heads nodding just like the musician sees the feet tapping. The audience may not agree with you — but they understand you. Understanding is the first step in persuasion. It’s OK if people disagree with your results or interpretations — that’s all part of the conversation, part of the process. What is not OK is for people to be confused by your words.