Mea Culpa: A graduate by any other name

Questions of style and usage in this week’s Independent

BBC Radio 1's Sara Cox (Getty)

In a report on the possible replacements for Chris Evans at Radio 2, Sara Cox was described as an “alumni of the Radio 1 Breakfast Show”. Thanks to Rick Biddulph and Brian Baxter for drawing this to our attention.

I have a simple if unsophisticated rule, which is never to use foreign or dead languages, and this is a good example of why. Alumni is the Latin plural of alumnus, male, and the female singular is alumna, so this has been changed.

But really I think it is better not to use the word at all. If we want an arch analogy with university, we could say “graduate”.

Pointless prepositions: As Theresa May insisted that her Chequers plan for Brexit was still viable, we reported: “Downing Street claimed that the current proposals … would deliver on ‘the will of the people’.”

Mick O’Hare could have written to object to a talking building (“Downing Street”) or to the hackneyed “will of the people” but instead he asked politely what The Independent’s view is of “deliver on”.

He said this usage has become common, and also cited an article about the delayed opening of the Elizabeth line in London: “The country’s reputation for delivering on large scale infrastructure projects on time and on budget has been significantly rehabilitated.”

My view is that it is a mannerism picked up from politics, as politicians think it sounds more impressive to say that they have “delivered on” their promises rather than that they have merely “delivered” them. I don’t think it does.

It doesn’t matter much, but why stick in an extra word when we don’t need it? Couriers do not “deliver on” a parcel.

More Latin: We used “refute” to mean “deny” a couple of times this week. We often do. We said last Friday: “Mr Salmond has refuted the allegations and said he ‘absolutely rejects any suggestion of criminality’.”

And on Wednesday we said: “Mr Grayling was forced to refute accusations from Labour and trade unions that his decision to end the Virgin Trains East Coast franchise early was a bailout worth £2bn.” As Paul Edwards wrote to say, in this case we really meant just “answer”.

Needless to say, there is no good reason why “refute” should be reserved for occasions when we mean “disprove”. It comes from the Latin refutare, which means repel or rebut. But as long as a large number of our readers think that it means “show conclusively to be false”, we should observe that distinction.

You asking me? We sometimes put question marks on sentences, especially headlines, that are not questions. This week’s editorial was originally headlined: “Now we know it was the Russian state that poisoned the Skripals, the question is what we can do about it?” That looks like a question because it says it is a question, but it is not: it is a statement. Assuming that we wanted it to be a question, it was easily fixed: “... the question is: what can we do about it?” But it would have been easier and better, I think, just to delete the question mark.

From here to eternity: Finally, my campaign for “for ever” as two words. Hamish McRae this week wrote: “EEA membership need not be forever and a day.” Even my colleagues who are resistant to my campaign must accept that this reads oddly. If he had said “need not be for 10 years” or “for a very long time”, the “for” would not attach to what follows.

The trouble is that his next sentence started: “Nothing is forever …” Nothing is for ever, that is, apart from my campaign.