There are two reasons why I wish to draw a clear distinction between “uninterested” and “disinterested.” The first is logical, and hence is important. The second concerns my personal preferences, and hence is of no importance whatsoever. There is a clear difference between not caring about something and taking care not to let your personal preferences in the matter influence your judgment or decision in regard to that matter. We do not ask that judges have no personal preferences about matters of sex, money, power, or privilege. To do so would be absurd. But we do ask that in handing down judgments of law, they take care not to be influenced by those preferences. A compendious and efficient way to express our request to the judges is to say that we ask them not to be uninterested but to be disinterested. The distinction is of the very greatest importance but it is of no importance how we mark it by our choice of words. Let me give you another example. Quite often those who are attempting to sound educated or to strike an elevated tone will talk about what transpired in a meeting, meaning by that what happened in the meeting. Now the word “transpired” means literally “breathed about.” When we talk about what transpired in a meeting, therefore, what we ought to mean is what was spoken of, what was said, or perhaps what was blurted out, in short what was breathed about. There is a big difference between asking what happened in a meeting – that might mean what was decided, who showed up, or whether it was a contentious meeting – and asking what transpired in a meeting, meaning what was said, what was acknowledged, what was leaked, or what came out into the open.
Wherever there is a difference between two ideas I think it
is helpful to mark that difference by a difference in the language we use. It
is self-evidently obvious that the choice of language is in a sense arbitrary.
It is also well known that over time words used to mark a distinction may flip
their meanings so that, for example, “uninterested” may once have conveyed what
“disinterested” later on conveyed, and vice versa. Of course. But there is a
loss in clarity and thought when the distinction in meaning is lost through
careless usage. So much for logic.
I am a fuddy-duddy when it comes to language. There is no
particular virtue and being a fuddy-duddy, I just am. I am the last kid on the
block to take up a new meme. Being a fuddy-duddy, I say “tut tut” when someone
uses “disinterested” to mean “uninterested” or, and here I reveal my inner
Willard Van Orman Quine, when someone writes the previous phrase without using
quotation marks to indicate a distinction between use and mention. There is no
virtue to being a fuddy-duddy, it is just a matter of taste. But when I insist
upon a logical distinction I am not being a fuddy-duddy, I am thinking clearly.
16 comments:
Prof. Wolff,
I fully understand, and agree, that it is a mistake to use the word “uninterested” when one means “impartial,” rather than “disinterested.” When I am trying a case, I certainly do not want the judge before I am appearing to be uninterested, but certainly do want him/her to be disinterested (and, in fact, in the case which I have regarding the protesters in front of the synagogue in Ann Arbor, the judge, to my mind, has proved that she is not disinterested.). Paraphrasing Emily Dickinson, “Much disinteredness is divinest sense to the discerning eye.”
But I am not sure that I agree that it is equally incorrect to substitute “disinterested” when one means “uninterested,” i.e., indifferent, as, “He showed great disinterest in the chess game,” rather than the wordier, “He shows great lack of interest in the chess game.” And if the former is correct, then why would it not be correct to state, “He was disinterested in the chess game”? In this case, surely, since impartiality plays no role in the outcome of the game – there are no referees in chess - one would not think you are saying that the observer was unbiased, unlike, for example, in tennis, where one would want the linesmen to be disinterested, and not favor one of the tennis players over the other, so that saying “The linesman was disinterested in the tennis match,” would not be misinterpreted to mean that the linesman was uninterested in the tennis match.
When, however, a prosecutor who is pursuing a conviction in a case in which s/he knows there is no probable cause (I have actually seen this happen), says, “I only want jurors who are disinterested,” does s/he mean s/he wants jurors who will be impartial, or jurors who will be so indifferent to the facts that they don’t care if they convict an innocent defendant? We would agree that a prosecutor, being an officer of the court required under the rules of professional conduct to seek to pursue justice, should intend the former, but I suspect that prosecutors often intend the latter.
I do not think that you think only when you write or speak, or that what you say or write is just exactly what you think. Perhaps you transpire clearly and so express your thought clearly.
'Now the word “transpired” means literally “breathed about.” When we talk about what transpired in a meeting, therefore, what we ought to mean is what was spoken of, what was said, or perhaps what was blurted out, in short what was breathed about. There is a big difference between asking what happened in a meeting – that might mean what was decided, who showed up, or whether it was a contentious meeting – and asking what transpired in a meeting, meaning what was said, what was acknowledged, what was leaked, or what came out into the open.'
While I gather the impresssion that this usage has been considered standard for generations, it appears to be on shaky ground and could be headed for obsolescence. It might be better to use a synonym such as *become known*, *leak out*, or *get around*.
Actually, I think that 'transpire' meaning "to happen or occur" dates at least to the beginning of the 1800s, besides of course being the more common use of it. It may be, and I think it totally is, that language critics have condemned it, and I would agree that this here usage is unconnected to the word's original meaning, and also, it's pretentious. I might, myself, say 'happen', 'occur', or 'take place'. But I'm too distracted anyways by the question whether a word's original meaning is what it means 'literally'. Did we change the definition of 'literally'? Is it ever okay to use literally to mean "figuratively"?
(Partisan) discussions of “disinterested” and its cognates usually, it seems to me, home in on the adjective or the noun, and ignore the verb—to disinterest. Here’s some of what Merriam-Webster’s has to say about the verb: “To disinterest [transitive verb; dates back to at least 1612] : to cause to regard something with no interest or concern.” The OED entry is consistent with M-W’s, and says that to disinterest means (and has meant since “E17” [i.e., the early 17th century]) to ”rid of interest or concern; detach from an interest or party. (Followed by in, of, from).” The OED does state that the verb is rare, except as the root of “disinterested.” But this puzzles me, since I’ve often enough seen the verb used with this meaning. Moreover, I don’t see “uninterest” given as a verb in either M-W or the OED. So, how are we supposed to convey succinctly the idea of causing someone to be rid of an interest in something? To disinterest seems to be up to the job, while to uninterest isn’t standard English—yet. (It’s also worth noting, I think, that in our language the prefix “dis-“ is stronger in meaning than “un-” is.) And so on. With regard to RPW’s dislike for the misuses of “to transpire” (a dislike that I share), M-W has, regrettably, some damning, dispositive comments:
“Sense 3 a : to be revealed : come to light b : to become known or apparent : DEVELOP
“Sense 4 : to take place : GO ON, OCCUR
“Usage: Sense 4 of transpire is the frequent whipping boy of those who suppose sense 3 to be the only meaning of the word. Sense 4 appears to have developed in the late 18th century; it was well enough known to have been used by Abigail Adams in a letter to her husband in 1775 *there is nothing new transpired since I wrote you last — Abigail Adams*. Noah Webster recognized the new sense in his dictionary of 1828. Transpire was evidently a popular word with 19th century journalists; sense 4 turns up in such pretentiously worded statements as *The police drill will transpire under shelter to-day in consequence of the moist atmosphere prevailing.* Around 1870 the sense began to be attacked as a misuse on the grounds of etymology, and modern critics echo the damnation of 1870. Sense 4 has been in existence for about two centuries; it is firmly established as standard; it occurs now primarily in serious prose, not the ostentatiously flamboyant prose typical of 19th century journalism.” I’ll remain a mumpsimus about this; to hell with the dictionary on this one. --Fritz Poebel
Danny,
As I wrote in a comment to the previous post, James Joyce used the word “literally” to mean “figuratively,” when he wrote in the first line of “The Dead,” “Lily, the caretaker’s daughter, was literally run off her feet.” I suspect that a thorough search of other literary works would reveal additional “misuses” of the word “literally,” and perhaps others, e.g., “transpired” - after all, is that not what is referred to as poetic license?
Fritz Poebel,
Do you have an opinion regarding the acceptability of the statement, “Am’t I brilliant?” Would it not be preferable over the statement, “Ain’t I brilliant?”
My bad. "Preferable to," not "preferable over."
MS: As far as I know, “am’t” isn’t a word. Why isn’t it ? I don’t know—maybe we’ve just never got around to embracing it because we don’t need it. We have other ways of conveying the intended meaning. (Plus, “am’t” sounds sort of like “ain’t.” Maybe it’s a victim of guilt by association.) That said, I think I remember reading somewhere years ago that “am’t” is a regional term, but I don’t recall where I read that (it was certainly in pre-Internet days). We say “aren’t I,” but never “I aren’t,” unless we’re flubbing the language. “Aren’t I ” is perhaps a figure of speech, and as Merriam-Webster’s says (or claims) figures of speech have their own logic. In any event, I don’t think we need to worry about some imminent “am’t” pandemic. If it comes, then so be it. But I suspect that that would be a long time off. I don’t intend myself to help it along. As far as “ain’t” goes, we’re still teaching everybody that it’s wrong, though nobody seems to know why. I like “ain’t” myself, and use it around my family (and selected acquaintances) all the time. They know I’m not ignorant or stupid. But around people who don’t know me, well I have to be careful. (Though, yes, I’m not taking my own advice here in writing this.) I think that social dynamic is what keeps “ain’t” a pariah. I wish “ain’t” well, but I believe its near-term prospects are dim. Big deal. Fritz Poebel
Fritz Poebel,
But that’s what prompted my question – “aren’t I” is grammatically incorrect, combining a plural verb with a singular pronoun. “Am’t I” would be grammatically correct. I suspect (but have not researched the question) that “ain’t I” evolved from the fact that “am’t I,” though grammatically correct, sounds grammatically incorrect.
RE: amn't
Whether or not amn't is a word*, it apparently was once upon a time.
*Is a contraction a word? Opinions differ, apparently.
But when I insist upon a logical distinction I am not being a fuddy-duddy, I am thinking clearly.
Nope. In this day and age, insisting upon thinking clearly is one of the most obvious signs of a fuddy-duddy.
'Do you have an opinion regarding the acceptability of the statement, “Am’t I brilliant?” Would it not be preferable over the statement, “Ain’t I brilliant?”'
Do you think of yourself as brilliant? I could advise you to go with 'Am I not brilliant', but I might be joshing you. How about this: 'Am't I different than everyone else in some way?'
Actually, the locution is rather paradoxical, and one which I think would confuse those for whom English is not their first language. Curiously, by turning the declarative, “She is not pretty,” to “Is she not pretty?” somehow reversed the meaning of the declarative. But what if some one responded to the interrogatory, “You are correct, she is not pretty.” The same goes for “Am I not brilliant?” or, using the contraction, “Amn’t I brilliant?’ “Yes, you are correct, you are not brilliant.” But consider, changing the contraction to "ain’t" somehow reverses the effect of using the negative, to wit: “Ain’t she pretty?” “You are correct, she is definitely pretty.” “Ain’t I brilliant?” “You are correct, you are most certainly brilliant.” Perhaps that is why the contraction “ain’t” gained some currency in certain cultures, since it better conveys the intended affirmative use of the interrogatory.
To be fair, this discussion could do with the input of actual linguists - does anyone here read the Language Log blog? Here's an entry on the disinterested/uninterested distinction:
https://languagelog.ldc.upenn.edu/nll/?p=511
I just realized that my comment yesterday on the word amn't is missing a key link. Ouch. Amn't I an idiot?!
Marcel Proust,
Thank you for the link. I suggested "amn't" as a word tongue in cheek, and am pleased to learn that it was actually once used.
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