As someone who cares about the English language, I’ve become increasingly concerned about the problem of poor spelling.
Sadly, some of the worst offenders are the British, who regularly include in their writings simple spelling mistakes like “cheque,” “honour” and “realise.” I know that the British remain a sort of backward people (see: Judges, wigs worn by) but honestly, don’t they at least have spell-checking technology?
Naturally, the English insist that these are not errors but, in fact, represent the proper spellings for these particular words. Frankly, with the snooty way they put down American usage, Brits act like they invented the language.
This dispute actually dates back to the Colonial era. Fed up with being forced to accept British spellings, in 1773 irate Bostonians famously took to the city’s waterfront, angrily chanting, “If you want ‘u’ in your harbour, we’re going to put ‘t’ (tea) in ours.” Despite the initial enthusiasm generated by the Boston Tea Party, however, the new “harbort” spelling failed to catch on.
But besides providing historically accurate information, this column is all about healing. With that in mind, I’ve decided to examine some of the more glaring differences between American and British English, and render a fair and balanced judgment on why we’re right.
‘er’ vs. ‘re’
The one spelling difference that best exemplifies the superior attitude the British take toward Americans is probably “centre.” Or maybe “theatre.” Either way, the point is that to right-thinking Americans, that “re” just looks wrong. In fact, the only reason Americans steadfastly refuse to adopt the metric system is because the English insist on measuring everything in “metres” and “litres.”
On the other hand, it’s well-known that a superfluous “e” on the end adds cachet to any word. This explains why shoppers regularly buy overpriced, phony antiques at any store called “Ye Olde Gifte Shoppe.” So while it’s difficult to imagine abandoning our precious “center,” perhaps we should at least consider adopting this British spelling. Oh, excuse me, I mean “considre.”
I’m eating what?
For Americans, navigating the food in England poses a serious linguistic challenge. Our french fries they call “chips,” our chips they call “crisps,” and they inexplicably refer to sausages as “bangers.” And get this, their word for chocolate chips is — I swear this is true — “polka dots.” Add to this that the British regularly eat pies filled with non-food items like kidneys and it’s easy to see why most Americans visiting England choose to consume nothing but beer.
Nevertheless, Americans have a well-known propensity for obesity, and the solution to our collective weight problem may lie in adopting more Britishisms. Just imagine if you were offered nothing to eat but a standard English meal of “black pudding,” “butties,” “fish fingers” and “pud.” Yuck city, right? I can already feel the pounds melting away. So OK, English, you win this one, too.
Where do you stand?
While waiting for these changes to take hold, we should also decide whether to stand in an American-style “line” or an English “queue.” Frankly, since Americans can’t even get it straight (ha!) whether we stand “in” or “on” line, I’m inclined to give this one to the Brits as well. I also like “queue” because it’s one of those bizarre English words non-native speakers sound ridiculous trying to pronounce correctly (see also “rhythm,” “liaison” and “phlegm”).
Sadly, space does not allow me to take on any more of the contentious lexicographical issues that continue to divide our nations. Yet my hope is that by making so many grudging concessions, I’ve begun to heal this breach, and put an end to all the unnecessary rancor. Excuse me, rancour.
Examiner columnist Malcolm Fleschner was surprised to learn that fish even have fingers.
