Some words seem interchangeable with others because they sound similar. Others are abused because their meanings are confused in everyday speech.
Here are some of the most commonly misused words in marketing writing.
First let's sort out 20 pairs of similar sounding words. (They seem interchangeable but often aren't.)
Then we'll clear up usage confusion. For example, can you sub bring for take? Or may you sub bring for take? Or should we all rephrase the whole question to avoid revealing our inability to tell the difference?
You'll notice this confusion in news headlines. I saw this headline the other day: “Woman Goes Missing; Disinterested Police ‘Guess' She Eloped, Shut Case.”1
That same day, I noticed this: “Eight in Ten SMEs [small and midsize enterprises] Disinterested in Seeking Finance.”2 Both the police and the small business owners were actually uninterested—not disinterested.
As in: “Joakim Noah Reluctant to Accept Praise.”3
As in: “Two Charts That Will Enrage Everyone (Well, Except Bankers).”4
“Historic” means something significant and important happened, so important that it's worthy of being recorded in history.
As in: David Meerman Scott's book Marketing the Moon tells the backstory of a historic undertaking.
“Historical” suggests something that just, well, happened—that it's a part of history or the past.
As in: John Glenn was the first astronaut to drink Tang in space, creating a historical relationship between the powdered drink mix and the U.S. space program.
A simple way to remember to the difference: “Historic” ends with the letter c, which stands for crucial or critical events. “Historical” ends with l, which stands for “long ago.”
Math geeks might remember that a discrete variable is one that can take on only finite, countable values; it can't express values in between the finite values.
You can give your favorite burrito place a 4-star or 5-star rating on Yelp, but you can't give it a 4.9-star rating for that one time they ran out of guacamole (because 4.9 is not in the range of discrete rating choices).
A simple way to remember the difference: The i in the middle of baited looks like a worm skewered on a hook. It's literally bait.
As in: Ironically, it was also a handy place to elicit Tesco Clubcards.
As in: You can't pay for an onboard gin and tonic with dollar bills, because airlines have phased out cash.
As in: To improve your email newsletter, use a flexible email service: e.g., AWeber, ActiveCampaign, Get Response.
As in: To improve your email newsletter, use the favorite email service of writers—i.e., AWeber.
P.S. I used to think i.e. was shorthand for in essence. It's not.
As in: Citizens flout the government's ban on kite-flying by flaunting kites printed with the president's face.
As in: The company is insured against harassment complaints.
As in: Attorney Frieda Convict ensured that her client receive an easy sentence. (Think of it as make sure.)
As in: “Adult tip” from @HonestToddler on Twitter, “Never pick up a toddler without asking. We're people, not loose change.”6
From “How to Put a Toddler to Bed in 100 Easy Steps”: “Adult Tip #93: Tap toddler's back until you lose feeling in your arm and your toddler seems tired.”7
As in: Writing a first draft of anything can make you feel like you're floundering; you're not! The thrashing about and floundering is part of the process.
As in: The golden retriever's career as a data entry clerk foundered for obvious reasons. But especially: No thumbs.
Flounder and founder are confused as verbs, not nouns. No one confuses the fish called flounder with the founder/entrepreneur or the founder/blacksmith.
As in: FDA warns of adverse effects of new cholesterol drugs …
As in: … which makes some heart patients averse to taking them.
As in: Are robots truly amoral or can they be expected to do the right thing, like WALL-E did?
As in: Hans seems charming and chivalrous, but he is the most immoral character in Frozen.
As in: A nauseous dumpster of trash.
Many people say they are feeling nauseous when they mean they feel nauseated. Technically, it's wrong. But let's pause here and reflect: Perhaps this is one of those rules that needs to evolve to reflect current usage? “Language is fluid,” you argue.
Well argued, you. If I were a dictionary writer, I'd take your comments under advisement.
A tricky one, eh? Here's a way to remember the difference:
If the kind of distance you're referring to is murky, opt for further. (Both share the letter u!) If it's actual, use farther. (Both share an a!)
I've always hated the clunkier orientate and assumed it was wrong. But apparently I'm like a lot of people in the United States who consider orientate incorrect, whereas people in the United Kingdom think Americans are wrong in our preference for orient.
Fine.
I still think orientate sounds unnecessarily clunky. Use it at your own risk. At least around me.
Another tricky one. It's commonly confused even by the pros.
In a story about a California couple who found more than $10 million in coins on their property, a reporter quoted a source speculating on the theory that the coins were possibly stolen from a San Francisco mint:
The stolen coins “would have all been mint state…,” he said. “But only some of the coins in the Saddle Ridge horde are.”8 Oops.
On the other hand, author Austin Kleon (Steal Like an Artist) uses hoard correctly when he frames sharing as a social currency:
“Almost all of the people I look up to and try to steal from today … have built sharing into their routine.
“They're cranking away in their studios, their laboratories, or their cubicles, but instead of maintaining absolute secrecy and hoarding their work, they're open about what they're working on, and they're consistently posting bits and pieces of their work, their ideas, and what they're learning online.”9
As in: Patrons pored over the pub's menu of 72 beers.
As in: Beer poured from the taps like water from a garden hose.
As in: Some poor souls nursed a serious hangover the next day.
If you can count the thing you're referring to, use fewer. If not, use less.
As in: The sofa has less fur on it now that Anita has fewer dogs.
When you order tofu lettuce wraps to go from Ming's, do you order bring out? No, you do not. It's take-out, because you are carrying it away.
A good shortcut: Add go or come to the sentence to figure out whether you should use take or bring.
For example, should you say bring it to my house or take it to my house? Either can be correct. It depends on whether the person is coming or going to the house.
If Lola is coming to the house (coming to you, because you're there), she's bringing. If she's going to the house (where you aren't), she's taking.
Go pairs with take, and come pairs with bring.
Maddeningly, technology (like MS Word or your phone) will often autocorrect it's to its, and vice versa, undermining you even when you have it right to begin with. (MS Word is doing that to me right here and right now, forcing me to recorrect the autocorrect and now I am FURIOUS.)
If you're not sure which to use, substitute his (which has no apostrophe) for its to see whether using an apostrophe is correct.
As in: The car must have its (his, if the car were a dude) steering wheel in the right spot—preferably, in front of its (his) driver.
You're is a contraction of you are. Can you substitute you are in a sentence and still have it make sense?
No? Then use your, which shows possession like their, its, his, hers, and ours.
As in: “There is no passion to be found playing small—in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.” —Nelson Mandela
As in: “I'd rather regret the things I've done than regret the things I haven't done.” —Lucille Ball
Then relates to time or consequences.
As in: “I want my children to have all the things I couldn't afford. Then I want to move in with them.” —Phyllis Diller
As in: “If I'm going to sing like someone else, then I don't need to sing at all.” —Billie Holiday
As in: May I drive your vintage Shelby?
Can usually denotes ability (more on that below).
As in: Maybe. Can you drive a stick shift?
Some say that using can to seek permission is wrong and that it should be used only in reference to ability. But it turns out that can is fine in both situations of ability and permission.
I wish I could go back and show my ninth-grade English comp teacher that last paragraph. She was a real can-versus-may extremist, which made those of us in her classroom sound like British Parliament members when we were just asking for a bathroom pass.
As in: Who is the baby-daddy?
Use whom when the word's the object of a verb.
As in: This is my boss, whom I respect. Usually.
How to remember which to use: Substitute he and him to test whether you should use who or whom. He would pair with who, and him (ends in m) would pair with whom (ends in m).
As in: Is it whom do you love or who do you love? Substitute he and him and rearrange the words.
Him do you love rearranged becomes do you love him?
He do you love rearranged becomes do you love he?
In this case, use whom.
Use who for people.
Use which for things.
Use that for either people or things.
You'll notice this trio abused and confused all the time. Often people refer to companies or organizations as who.
As in: I once worked for a company who manufactured grommets.
Not okay, Internet, not okay.
As for whether you should use that or which in the grommet-manufacturing example, it doesn't much matter. You'll get heated arguments from the proponents of each. But I'd say don't worry about it—just don't refer to a nonperson as a who.
Use if to refer to a condition, real or imagined.
As in: “I'll do whatever it takes to win games, whether it's sitting on a bench waving a towel.” —Kobe Bryant
As in: “One day, the people who work in my kitchen stir-fried chopped Napa cabbage to serve with some meat or fish for their own dinner. I got to thinking: ‘What if the cabbage was the most important thing on the plate?'” —Nobu Matsuhisa
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