Review of The Sense of Style: The Thinking Person’s Guide to Writing in the 21st Century

Abstract

Novice writers and writing instructors in academic and professional settings often pine for guides that will deliver definitive rules which offer certitude. Steven Pinker’s The Sense of Style: The Thinking Person’s Guide to Writing in the 21st Century does so – to a large extent. That The Sense of Style cannot find rules in reason for everything is perhaps its most important – though unintended – message. For as it demonstrates, style remains haunted by the residues of taste and authority. With considerable social and symbolic capital at his command, Pinker can draw on many sources that give him the standing to act as arbiter of style. As an Ivy League professor, he has been involved in writing instruction at MIT and Harvard for several decades. He also chairs the Usage Panel of the American Heritage Dictionary (AHD); is a recognised scholar in cognitive psychology with a focus on language; has edited considerable amounts of science writing; and is a prolific author whose books have a readership beyond the academy. For those who view style primarily as a matter of taste, such authority suffices. In an age, however, where blunt authority is challenged and calls for an evidence base are expanding across the disciplines, others require that style guides also disclose the principles that inform their advice. This Pinker does. In a companion piece on Edge.org he couches his fundamental commitments carefully though, in the interrogative: ‘The question I'm currently asking myself is how our scientific understanding of language can be put into practice to improve the way that we communicate anything, including science? In particular, can you use linguistics, cognitive science, and psycholinguistics to come up with a better style manual’ (Pinker 2014). The tentative form of the question is presumably overridden by the 359-page book, which is a yes of sorts. It is, however, a commitment to quite a different type of science of language than the descriptive quantitative corpus linguistics that has become increasingly influential in the training of academic writing over the last three decades. Alas, as writing instructors and novice writers either fear or hope, science has its limits, also when it comes to style. Which is why Pinker calls upon additional principles to reasoning rooted in theoretical and empirical cognitive linguistics. These include ‘the backing of data from the AHD Usage Panel’; ‘historical analyses from several dictionaries’; and those elusive characters that still haunt the pages of style guides – elegance and grace – and which operate behind the scenes of a suggestion that a specific formulation just ‘sounds better’ (224). With such an assortment of principles, clashes can be expected. At times a stylistic suggestion is justified with historical precedent from centuries ago, at other times the same fact makes it jaded, stuffy and outdated. When writers waver between the conflicting choices enshrined in style manuals, Pinker leads them out of the panic with ‘a pinch of my own judgment’ (263) or advice to respond to sticklers and mavens with quips such as, ‘tell them that Jane Austen and I think it’s fine’ (261).