Separated By A Common Tongue

Yesterday I discussed the etymology of the word "crap" and how it was abandoned in America by its settling British parents and took on a life of its own, the little orphan. There's a rich history of this type of word creation in our shared language and I am fascinated by the uncommon way the Atlantic plays with our common tongue. 

For example, Americans say "erbs" when referring to herbs. Our limey cousins proudly pronounce the H and look a little down on us for not doing the same. Where did we learn to drop the H? Well, we learned it by watching you, Dad. What our English friends forget is that both of us said "erbs" when America was still a British colony. The word itself is an anglicised version of the Old French word "erbe," which went on to gain a silent "H" to create the modern French "l'herbe." When spoken in English is should be pronounced with that silent H. The thing is, in Victorian England, while we were all saying "erbs" like good boys and girls, it became fairly uncooth the drop your Hs as it indicated your rank in the lower classes. "'Ow's your 'ouse an' 'ome, guvnah?" and all that Dick Van Dyke stuff. The posh set saw to it to add an H that was never pronounced before in any language (in Italian it's "erba," Portuguese "erva" and in Spanish it's "hierba," pronounced "yearba"). Because Americans live in a classless society (cough, cough), we saw no reason to put on airs and continue to pronounce herbs the way it was inteneded. Most Canadians say "erbs" for the same reason though I don't know why they say "surry" instead of "sorry" and I certainly don't know why they say it so often. 

That brings us to the much more controversial subject of mathematics. In America, we say "I'm studying math" and our British relations say "I am sitting for maths." The English will insist that our way is illogical because mathematics is plural. It isn't, evidenced by a number of facts, not the least of which is that both Brits and Yanks say "math/maths is challenging." An "s" does not a plural make, in the same way that the absense of an "s" does not guaruntee singularity. "Your teeth are disgusting" is a sentence most adult Britons have heard in their lifetime, is there any confusion that teeth, even without an s, is plural?

As with herbs, all English speakers have been saying "math" (mid-1800s) for longer than the British decided to say "maths" (1910s). The trouble comes from the way the word was abbriviated in writing. To shorten the word in course books or academic papers, writers had two options: to write "math." with a period to indicate it was being shortened like "econ." "bio." or "ling." (and do they call linguistics "lings" over there? No.) or "maths." also indicating an abbreviation with a period (or what they call "full stops [though for centuries we both called them periods but that will have to wait for another newsletter]). The idea with "maths." was the same as is how "Mr." or "Dr." is abbreviated, by removing its middle. The thing is, nobody pronounces "Mr." as "merr," nor should we pronounce "maths." with the "s." 

This habit of sayings things wrong and then being snooty about it is a large reason why English were roundly defeated in both the revolution and the War of 1812. Still, I have been thinking fondly of our friends from Albion recently. I think we are going to find that we are looking at our neighbors more in the next few months as the virus works its way through the world. We will chart its trajectory in various communities and see how responses differ from place to place (this will become increasingly important [and dire] as COVID-19 hammers less developed, more densely populated countries). We are going to have to work together, put aside differences and fight a common enemy on a global scale. Great Britain has a tremendous history of doing that very thing, with their wonderful, stubborn people pushing back everyone from the Romans to Hitler with relatively few moments of shame in between (do not fact check this with an Irish person). In 1940, when the island was asked to resist the Nazi blitzkrieg alone, a British magazine rallied its readers by saying "some nations are separated by a sad gulf from a heroic past but we are not." I've always been awed by the English capacity to draw on their history. Right now I want to assign blame to our leaders and wail about the economic disparities that failed to prepare us for this and will only exacerbate during the crisis and there will be time for that. But for now let's use our own historic past to steel ourselves against a thing that doesn't care who the president is, how many ventilators we have or whether you say math or maths. We are all Britons during the blitz now. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more. 

Nick