Conversion of a Spelling Reformer

            As a young student, I found English spelling particularly opaque.  And none of the little rules of thumb seemed to help, as they all had more exceptions than rules.  If I had tried harder to master it, I’m sure I could have.  But I deeply resented being required to invest my time learning a system that was patently absurd.  And I was half sure that, as absurd as the system was, it would surely be replaced in a decade or two anyway.  While I have less trouble with English orthography now than I did forty years ago, it still troubles me.  And without the wonderful invention of spell check software, I could not be writing this blog today.

            Over the Twentieth Century, the crusade to reform spelling was not just the province of the lunatic fringe.  From 1910 to 1955, the Chicago Tribune used a modified spelling system for the benefit of its largely immigrant readership.  And George Bernard Shaw campaigned his entire adult life for a more rational orthography.   He invented the word “ghoti” which he claimed was pronounced “fish;” (GH as in laugh, O as in women, and TI as in nation.)  Before he died, he set up a grant to fund the development on a more phonetic system of spelling.

            For most of my life, I have championed the cause of spelling reform.  One day I was arguing this issue with my wife and daughter, both of whom were then teaching college level English.  My daughter, who has always dismissed spelling reform as quixotic nonsense, became exasperated.  She asked, “You say you want all words spelled as they are pronounced, but pronounced by whom--and where?   In Australia?--or Boston?--or East Texas?--or in the West of England?--or in Northern Minnesota?”  She went on to explain that while we do not have a standard dialect of spoken English, we have a reasonably standard written English.  An English speaker in Mississippi can send an Email to Minnesota, Massachusetts, Mumbai, or Manchester, and whoever receives it can read it.  She added, “If we are to require that every word is spelled as it is actually pronounced, then we would have to change spelling systems every time we crossed a county line.  Would we really want that?”

            Her final argument, the coup de grace, was to tell an anecdote about a Harvard English professor, a native Bostonian, who suggested to his astonished students that the words “Korea” and “career”  were examples of homophones.   He spake, “The young officer volunteered for service in Korea because he thought it might help his career.”

            I passed this example along to my brother, who also believes in spelling reform, and he protested, “But this isn’t “real” English.”  “Oh really,” I asked?  I reminded my brother that this Harvard Don, this Boston Brahmin, surely had ancestors that came from England.  Our family does not.  In most of the upper Midwest of the U.S., the main demographic stock that settled this area in the mid to late nineteenth century came from either Ireland or Northern Europe—but not England.  A demographic survey done about twenty years ago of the U.S. as a whole found that only 12% of Americans have an English ancestor that they know of.   But 60% have at least one ancestor who came from Germany, 40% from Ireland, 25% from Italy, and 15% from Scandinavia.  And if that survey were repeated today, it would show that the largest rise in demographic numbers would be in the Hispanic community, thus diluting the English presence even further. The modern United States is a country of English speakers--who came from nearly everywhere except England.  There really is no dialect which represents “correct English” except that any dialect may be considered correct--within its local frame of reference. 

            So as absurd as our English orthography may be, at least it’s a standard that works everywhere.   And since we have not tinkered with our spelling for over two hundred years, the two-hundred-year-old books in our university libraries are still readable.