Algorithm writing

Too often, I read something online and have the unpleasant sensation that the piece in question could have been written by an algorithm. The tell is always the repeated use of a term or phrase or concept so beaten around by our cultural discourse that it’s long past dead; less a corpse than the decaying bones of one. The bones in question usually serve as a signal flare to fellow solders in the culture war: IT’S ME! I’M ONE OF YOU! I’M NOT THEM!

The result is writing that is simultaneously inane, vacuous, boring, and predictable. It partakes of the same vices as those so memorably diagnosed by Orwell more than 75 years ago. Everything he wrote then still applies. Here is a small sample of the most egregious instances that come to mind.

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“Right-wing/left-wing.” If you encounter this term once in an essay or op-ed, prepare yourself for an onslaught. Writers who advert to “right-/left-wing” are propagandists to a person. The term is not meant to describe. It is meant to be decoded by the right kind of readers, who will see that it means “evil.” This is why it is repeated so often in such brief spans. The evil people lately did X; having done evil action X, they are now planning further evil deeds; remember, they’re evil, and the evil is spreading. It’s gibberish, an open and happy willingness to substitute sloganeering for thinking.

“Socialist/communist.” These terms should be used exclusively in historical and economic discursive contexts, with precisely stated referents, except in those cases where a person, entity, idea, or policy claims the moniker or, substantive analysis and argument provided, is shown to be. Otherwise, again, it’s just slander, guilt by ideological association.

“Nationalist.” I don’t know that I’ve ever read a piece of punditry featuring this word that could define it consistently and coherently, not to mention in continuity with its history of usage. One thing it doesn’t mean, past or present, is “hazy thing I disapprove of.” Given its malleability, the term has characterized, or been appropriated by, persons, policies, and movements all along the political spectrum. The work of historian John Lukacs is a good place to start for anyone genuinely curious about the term’s history and ranges of meaning. (The misuses and abuses of “nationalist” increase exponentially when the word is tied to religion. It may be that “Christian nationalist” not only has an extratextual referent out there in the world but also means something concrete, definable, and historical—which, further, the author would consistently repudiate in all epochs and circumstances and not only some. As yet, though, I’ve not come across an instance of it.)

“Extreme.” This is not solely a term of disapprobation, though you wouldn’t know it by political and cultural discourse. John is extremely attractive; Jane is extremely intelligent; Jamal is extreme in his commitment to justice; Jalen’s love for public education is extreme. The only relevant question is what one is extreme with respect to, and how that extremity is manifested. A man willing to lay down his life for his friends is extreme—but then, that is to be expected, since there is no greater love than this. That is just what it means to be extreme.

“Radical.” Likewise, but conversely, this is not solely a term of approbation. “Radical” does not mean “good” or “praiseworthy” or “admirably totally committed.” Its etymology concerns the root of things. In plain English someone might use it neutrally, approvingly, or disparagingly. But by itself it means none of these things; not only its intended meaning but the justification for its use as a modifier must come from the speaker or writer who deploys it. Standing alone, it means less than nothing. (In writing on the Left “radical” tends to be synonymous with “Leftist.” This habit isn’t helpful, though, since it piles up words that appear to be different but mean the same thing while rhetorically glossing neutrally-described Left policies or persons as “radical” and thus, in some sense, “excellently intense.” It’s a crutch and a cheat, in other words.)

“Fringe.” Writers who revert to this word as though it bore free-standing significance are being especially lazy. Abolitionists in 1775 were on the fringe. That’s just to say that they were on the very edge of permissible public opinion. The description speaks not at all to the truth or quality of their beliefs. As it turns out, their beliefs were right, and won the day. Abolition is no longer on the fringe. The same goes for atheism. A thousand years ago atheism wasn’t even on the fringe; it more or less didn’t exist, certainly not in the West, in the form we’re familiar with. It was absolutely on the fringe even a hundred years ago in America. Do secular writers believe this means that atheists once were or remain “crazy”—the implied meaning of pundit-usage of “fringe” today? No, they don’t. Which means we ought to strike through this word whenever we see it. It doesn’t mean a damn thing except, per usual, “thing I, a reasonable person, find disreputable, and by rhetorical influence hope you, dear reader, will too.”

“Moderate/centrist.” Except for self-identified moderates who can tell you in detail what they mean by their position (I’m thinking of Damon Linker—who may be the only intellectually serious moderate around), neither “moderate” nor “centrist” means anything in popular writing except, perhaps, “whatever can pass in a polarized Congress.” It also, by the transitive property, ends up applying to pragmatic, non-ideological, or deal-making politicians. But this is no reason to stuff the empty suit of this term with false virtue. Just as “fringe” depends on context, so does “centrist.” Sometimes the most vicious person or proposal in a room is the most moderate or balanced of two opposing sides. It is, as Jesus himself says, lukewarm; and being “neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth.”

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There are many more where these came from. These are just the ones that have been bugging me lately. I may make this a running post with many ongoing updates. We’ll see.

The other thing to say is that of all sinners I am chief. I’ve no doubt I’ve used most of these words in my own writing from time to time. I try not to. Consider this post a redoubled commitment to resisting the temptation. We all succumb, however. This is a reminder, then, first of all to myself, to write like a human being and not an algorithm. It’s hard work but it’s worth it.