Keeping the Past Alive is Rewarding

– Sandeep B.

Have you ever—even for just one second—paused to actually trace the origins of the words—any word—you use in your writing or speaking life? Try it. It’s fun, instructive, and interesting.

If the previous paragraph has convinced you to trace the origins of words, congratulate me because I now successfully qualify for a membership in the (U.S) Democratic Party. I’ve now become a Democrat. The connection between the previous paragraph and my becoming a Democrat will be clear in a moment.  At the time of the American Revolution, the word Democrat had the pejorative meaning that we associate with the word Demagogue today—“a politician, leader or person who panders to emotions and/or prejudice”. In just over 100 years, the word Democrat had shifted so much in meaning that it is now the name of one of the only two American political parties. But look at what has happened to Democrat’s “parent” word, Demagogue. It now means the opposite of what it originally meant: a popular leader.

If the previous paragraph has confused you, re-read it.

Now what has happened in both cases is a gradual change in the original meaning of the word. Technically, the study of such changes in the meaning—or evolution —of words over time, across cultures and geographies is known as Semantics.

But there’s another, more fundamental aspect to changes in the meaning of words. It is the origin of words, the root cause, or the culprit. In our example, the word Demagogue originates from the Greek demagogos, which means leader (demos) of the people (agogos). And the study of word origins is technically known as Etymology.

As writers, it pays to develop a healthy curiosity about the etymology of the words we use everyday.  The “benefits” might not translate into a pay hike or promotion but it’ll help us become better writers eventually.  A brief list of words we use in routine technical writing parlance hopefully spurs thinking in this direction.

Today, we typically use the word manual in the context of a written document (User Manual). This word was imported into English from the French word manual which, in turn, has its roots in the Latinmanualis, meaning “fitted to the hand.”  The root of manualis itself is derived from the Greekmanus, which means “hand; strength; power over; armed force; handwriting.” These meanings have an echo even today in usages such as “manual labour” and “the user has to populate the fields manually (bah!).” In 1431, manual was used to mean “a service (Church ritual) book used by a priest.” Around 1533, this restricted definition transformed itself to mean “a concise handbook of any sort.” And viola! We have today the User manual, the Manual of Arms (military), a manual of mathematical tables, and so on.

While we’re talking about user manuals, let’s briefly dwell upon navigation. In very simple terms, to navigate is to find our way around something. Interestingly, the verb navigate came later than the noun navigation. This word has seen little change in meaning ever since it was first used in 1533, derived from the Latin navigationem, which means “to sail; sail over; go by sea; steer a ship.”  Navigationem is itself derived from Navis meaning “ship.” Although the original meaning is still in vogue, navigation is used today in the sense of “finding or helping find something—a place, an object, a direction, or information.”

From navigation to navigation aids (no, not the acronym). More specifically: Index and Glossary.

The lexicon seems to be quite fond of Index,notperhaps because the lexicon is itself an index of sorts but because Index yields a huge heap of meanings. For our purposes, it is simply a navigation aid, an alphabetical listing of words accompanied by page numbers. And it is 611 years old with roots in the Latin Indicis, meaning “forefinger; pointer; sign; list.” Does the word Index Finger sound familiar? However, it is also derived from Indicare, which, literally, means “point out.” The word Indicate has its roots here. Sometime in 1580, English incorporated Latin phrases such as Index Nominum andIndex expurgatorius to roughly give Index its current meaning. Index Nominum literally means an “Index of Names” while Index expurgatorius has a slightly tyrannical connotation. It literally means “specification of passages to be deleted from works otherwise permitted.” Post 1720, the usage of Index branched off in a hundred directions to variously mean “compile an index (of terms/words), refractive index, economic index,” and so on. For our purposes, we’ll simply to stick to generating Indexes for the documents we produce.

Sadly, the history of Glossary isn’t as colourful.  For the most part it retains its original meaning from the Greek derivative, glossarion, which means “obsolete or foreign word.” Around 1400, the Latinglōssarium made its appearance in English to mean, “a difficult word requiring explanation.”Glossary was originally used in the plural as glossaries, and alternatively defined as a “collection of textual glosses.”  Interestingly, the word glosses is itself derived from the (Middle High) German,glosen meaning “glow, or shine.”  This has resonance in the modern usage of the lip gloss, a beauty aid. But it remains that glossary, which today means “a list of terms in a special subject, field, or area of usage, with accompanying definitions” hasn’t deviated much from its original usage.

I should’ve started this piece with this word but I chose to keep the best for the last. While a lot of words are rooted in antiquity, some are deleted forever, some fall to disuse, some are revived from disuse, and others still, are rescued from extinction. Interface is a good example of the last phenomenon.

Interface is derived by combining the prefix, Inter, with Face. It is a fairly “modern” word in some sense because it was coined around 1880-1885. It originally meant “a surface forming a common boundary, as between bodies or regions.”  This word lay dormant for several decades until in the 1960s, the computer industry suddenly resuscitated it with the same sense of usage. Within the computer industry, interface generally means “a point of interaction between a computer and another system—like a printer or similar device.” However, its usage became pervasive quite rapidly and pretty soon, acquired newer usages. For instance, it is acceptable to use interface in the sense of denoting interaction between departments in a company or between areas of study: “we need to improve the interface between the documentation team and the HR team.”  However, using interfaceas a verb is generally frowned upon because you have better substitutes in interact, deal, work, or cooperate. Whatever the usage debate, it’s clear that the world of words owes immense thanks to the computing world for rescuing this word from complete oblivion.

You obviously don’t expect me to write an Etymology dictionary here—two such comprehensive (searchable) dictionaries already exist online if you are interested:http://www.etymonline.com/index.php and http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/etymology. If you are a steadfast devotee of the printed material like me, I highly recommend the Oxford Dictionary of English Etymology, the Chambers Dictionary of Etymology, or the “lite” Barnhart Concise Dictionary of Etymology.

In the end, Etymology is tremendously rewarding not merely because it’s akin to a journey in history, or an enjoyable hobby but because its real value lies in the range of possibilities it offers us in the world of usage. It instructs us without preaching. It helps us to both break the lazy habit of using words frivolously–like cycling or swimming, you can never “forget” it once you’ve learnt it–and to become more effective writers.

If you are unconvinced still, check out the origins of bless, document, web, content, and search.

About the Author

Sandeep B. has a weakness for words and masquerades as a technical writer. He can be contacted atdeepu.sandeep@gmail.com.