academic writing – Richmond Writing

Metaphor of the Month! Rugged Individualism

Let’s begin with a lesson I teach students: check your sources.

Wikipedia provides a dubious first coinage for this month’s metaphor, citing President Herbert Hoover. Yet the OED goes earlier, to 1897 and this use by J.G. Rogers, “The stern and rugged individualism which finds no charm in the fellowship of kindred souls.” That said, Hoover may have popularized this term in the American mind.

Flawed origin-story and all, you can read about the history of our metaphor at Wikipedia’s page. Though the concept may inspire a great deal of libertarian philosophy, usage peaked in 1950 and has slowly fallen off since, as shown on the OED’s frequency chart.

Born of our nation’s frontier roots, the metaphor implies that the most resourceful people always provide for themselves. On a frontier, they often had to endure hardships, though the history we receive oversimplifies trading posts and other early means for European settlers to survive in a harsh landscape. Even Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone, our quintessential rugged individuals, did not make their own rifles and gunpowder, no matter how many alligators and bears they wrestled or rivers they jumped across in one bound. See the decent, if uneven, film The Alamo for a re-assessment of Crockett’s life. The famous frontiersman comes across as a charismatic man trapped by his own self-made mythology.

While the term may have declined, its principles continue to inform contemporary political debates. We hear related terms such as “bootstrapping,” to pull oneself up from poverty to prosperity, despite obstacles.

It escapes me how a frontier concept, at the core of so much political discourse, works in an interconnected, urbanized nation. I suppose some of the origin of our metaphor comes from Emerson’s influential essay “Self Reliance,” which you can read here. When read carefully, Emerson does not imply that we are islands, nor his he talking about bear-hunting. Instead, he focuses on our inner lives, where solitude and self-knowledge make a person stronger but where being overly social distracts one from that goal. Think of Thoreau at Walden (yes, his mom baked pies for him).

I agree, yet nowhere in Emerson do I detect a survival-of-the-fittest mentality that underlies so much of the Rugged Individualist concept.

I farm and DIY a lot of things that urban and suburban folks cannot, yet I laugh at both this concept as well as the findings of 2016 Pew Research poll reported in the Wikipedia entry, that “57% of Americans did not believe that success in life was determined by forces outside of their control.”

One wonders how many of them have been subjected to natural disasters, layoffs not their doing, random accidents, or medical emergencies. So much lies beyond our control; As Emperor Marcus Aurelius contends in his Meditations many times, we can only control ourselves. See my entry on Stoic. May you be stoic in the face of things you cannot change.

Send bears to wrestle, as well as words and metaphors to jessid-at-richmond-edu or by leaving a comment below.

See all of our Metaphors of the Month here and Words of the Week here.

Word of the Week! Despondent

It’s okay in these troubled times to feel despondent, as long as. you understand what the word means. I used it the other day in a light-hearted way, when touring Colonial Williamsburg. At the Governor’s Palace, two cooks were preparing a Colonial-era meal. The food smelled wonderful, and I said I’d like some. “Sorry, Sir,” came the reply. “It’s for the Governor’s table.”

I told the woman that I, a mere commoner, felt despondent.

“Nice choice of word!” she answered, without feeding me. I informed her that at least we had filled my belly with a word for this week.

For once, The OED entry on our word proves very brief, giving good definitions related to “loss of heart or resolution,” or simply being depressed. I find it depressing that the entry provides no examples of usage newer than 1849. How could such a useful word fall out of favor? Do we simply say “depressed” nowadays?

The word is of Latin origin, from dēspondēntem, with frequency of use falling markedly until about 1980, when despondent enjoyed (if that’s the term for it) an uptick in use. The Gay 1890s proved a paradoxically high-water mark, and now we are back about to 1960 in use of our word.

We need synonyms for unpleasant things. Saying “I’m down” or “I’m bummed out” do not work in formal prose. So cheer up! Even if I didn’t make you feel better, at least I’ve given you an new word for feeling bad.

Send me words and metaphors, uplifting or depressing, at jessid-at-richmond-edu or by leaving a comment below.

See all of our Metaphors of the Month here and Words of the Week here.

Image: Man probably looking at S&P 500 since January. Creative-Commons image from freestockphotos.biz

Word of the Week! Supine

Hard to think that this word, another I found in the work of Edith Wharton, has not yet appeared as a Word of The Week. So what do we know about “supine”?

The OED notes its Latin origin, to lie face upwards. The dictionary records earliest uses to the 15th Century, making it again a Gutenberg word. Printing simply made available a term already in the vocabulary of educated folk.

I thought of being supine as merely lying down, or for one of Wharton’s characters, collapsing upon a fainting couch.

To be truly supine, however, not just any sort of fainting will do. One must face upward, as in the final pose of Yoga practice, savasana or “corpse pose.”

Figuratively, as the OED entry also notes, our word can mean disinclined to act, from laziness, fear, greed, or some other motive. Here I’ve heard our word used to describe the current Congress, supine before a leader with authoritarian intentions.

When will they wake up? I thought that I had covered “Quisling” here before; perhaps that one will be a Metaphor of the Month soon. We shall see if events warrant that frightening word.

Send me words and metaphors at jessid-at-richmond-edu or by leaving a comment below.

See all of our Metaphors of the Month here and Words of the Week here.

Word of the Week! Screed

Thanks to reader Marissa Sapega, who teaching Business Communications at the university, for this word. Looking back at older entries, I have used our word exactly once. I’m certain, however, that my occasional op-eds elsewhere have included a screed or two.

As defined by my printed copy of The Random House Dictionary, a screed means a diatribe, usually not a short one. We associate these features with screeds: ignoring reactions, not listening to an audience’s needs, writing from rage or some other passion. Screeds do not mean reasoned discourse, but a long harangue. Screeds rant in writing, usually. I’ve heard the term “verbal harangue” a few times, so that word needs unpacking in a future post as the word “harangue” also implies something written.

In any case, I just provided with you with a few useful synonyms for screed.

An older use could mean an informal letter, but we do not hear that much any longer. The only other use for the word I know is a straightedge for smoothing the top of concrete or cement. I have one of those screeds in our barn.

This week’s word has interesting roots: Etymology Online cites the Middle English shrede, with became our modern “shred,” meaning a small piece of something larger. As a verb, shred relates nicely to today’s screed: screeds can shred the listener’s eyes and ears.

We live in a time of screeds. I won’t lie to you, or give you a screed, but language in politics, in particular, scares the hell out of me because it portends, even promises, violence. No wonder my younger students are always anxious.

How we get back from rage to reasoned discourse cannot be solved by this blog. Each of us, however, can do our parts to end what I see as madness, the sort that rips a civilization to pieces: shredded, or screeded, to death.

An ironic coda: Hipsters in New York City are now buying shredded clothes at very high prices, and I do not mean the silly pre-shredded jeans I see undergrads wear. These clothes have screeds acquired by hard use of the sort I subject my farm-clothing to. You can read more about the weird fad at this NYT story.

Sign of the times? I plan to find one of the shops when the fad hits Richmond, then sell them my worst cast-offs.

Send me words and metaphors at jessid-at-richmond-edu or by leaving a comment below.

See all of our Metaphors of the Month here and Words of the Week here.

Image: Creative-Commons image, modified, from publicdomainpictures.net

Metaphor of the Month! Mother Nature

You may be old enough to recall a Chiffon Margarine advertising campaign featuring a woman dressed like an Earth-deity and the motto “It’s not nice to fool Mother Nature.”

I agree, though margarine never fooled me. I love cooking so bring on the butter, lard (for pie crusts), avocado oil, and olive oil. Otherwise, get out of my kitchen.

So where did the phrase Mother Nature come from? When was it first coined? The OED is wonky today, giving lots of page errors, but I detect two entries, with one giving a first recorded use of 1390. That means three years before the birth of Gutenberg, so it merits some attention. The problem with this usage, from Chaucer’s Physician’s Tale, comes from the lack of “Mother.” The teller does relate nature to a female deity, but that association goes back to a time not simply before printing but before writing itself.

The same entry gives a date of 1500 for “Dame Nature,” so we clearly see a pattern emerging. Not until 1962 does the OED replace “Dame,” perhaps from midcentury US usage as a belittling term for women, with “Mother.”

The second entry in the OED helps a great deal with our etymology, with instances of “mother nature,” without capital letters, reaching back to 1525.

As for Chiffon? The current owner of the brand discontinued US and Canadian distribution back in 2002, as Wikipedia informs me. Mother Nature had the last laugh. While I don’t think we have an actual angry goddess lashing out at puny homo sapiens who do so much harm to our ecosystems, pause a moment to pay some respect. With a real winter this year (which I love) it could seem that Mama ain’t happy with us. Or is it Papa? Old Man Winter is another metaphor worth our while (and for next year).

Meanwhile sit back, slow down, stay home if you can, enjoy the quiet ferocity of a snow-storm. It’s not nice to fool around with Old Man Winter, either.

If you think of any words or metaphors to share with the community in 2025, send them to me at jessid -at- richmond -dot- edu or by leaving a comment below.

That call for content includes updates and corrections. Regular reader Michael Stern gives us some clarity on our recent word of the week, inure:

“I have been a practicing attorney for more than fifty years and I have never seen the word inure spelled ‘enure.’ If I ever did, I probably would have thought it to be a spelling error.”

Excellent feedback. I always welcome it!

See all of our Metaphors of the Month here and Words of the Week here.

Word of the Week! Inure

This week’s word crops up enough in academic prose that we need something on it. I do not frequently use our word, but I like it for one specific reason.

Even a casual check at free dictionary sites reveals that “inure” can carry two very different meanings: to take effect (often in business or legal usage); to become accustomed to something, usually something unpleasant.

I’m inured to the difficult process of walking on ice, for instance (hint: cleats for those winter boots). It’s not a pleasant task. That said, I love cold weather, so there’s no need for me to be inured to that. For others, bundle up and stop complaining.

As for using the word correctly, it’s a transitive verb so it needs an object. Note how the “to” can move about. I love this 1837 example from the OED, using a spelling I’ll discuss in a moment: “To enure youths to habits of industry.” We did, then, have Slackers in the early 19th Century. Call Mister Bumble and make the kid Oliver do something useful!

The OED notes a 15th-Century date of first recorded use and an etymology native to English but “by derivation.” Have a look here for more on that particular puzzle. There’s another: The OED favors the spelling “enure,” whereas other sources favor “inure.” I tend to see the second spelling more often. Pick your poison but be consistent, please. At a site called Daily Writing Tips, the author notes that “enure” tends to enjoy pride of place for legal writing. I don’t know but any attorneys or Professors of Law, please let me know.

Inure yourselves to this blog continuing all year, when I have a word you don’t like. So why not instead send me words and metaphors by leaving a comment below or by email at jessid-at-richmond-dot-edu ?

See all of our Metaphors of the Month here and Words of the Week here.

Image Source: Scott Perry at Flickr

Word of the Week! Albeit

What a pleasant surprise to learn, from The OED’s frequency chart, that one of my favorite words for formal writing has enjoyed increased usage since 1950. The term sounds impressive. Could the uptick come from legal usage? In a Stackexchange discussion of the word, one writer notes that “many people consider it archaic.”

Not me. I like archaic, even while getting generative AI to make an image for me. I also think of John Houseman in The Paper Chase, lecturing formally.

Maybe I show off when I write that the word “possesses a certain gravitas, albeit one that might alienate general readers.” Guilty as charged; an education means a hard-earned journey, and when writing for other specialists, yes, I’ll trot out my Latin and my albeits. The etymology, however, proves as rudimentary as all+be+it.

In my example above, my usage matches the first definition given by The OED, “even though.” The term can mean “in spite of,” as well. You can read other definitions here. I recommend our word for adding some variety to formal written work. One gets tired of “even thoughs,” even though that term proves easy to understand.

I close with a bit of advice for this week. Make your stylistic choices wisely, albeit boldly.

If you think of any words or metaphors to share with the community in 2025, send them to me at jessid -at- richmond -dot- edu or by leaving a comment below.

See all of our Metaphors of the Month here and Words of the Week here.

Image source: Google Gemini AI to prompt “Close-up image of an elderly white male law professor lecturing while holding up an index finger” (to avoid other fingers and other meanings)

Word of the Week! Querulous

Hello, 2025.

My first retirement-era word relates, in my brain, to old age. It means to complain in a high-pitched voice. Sounds like a great deal of the Internet, doesn’t it?

I’m not here to complain. I’d like, first, to thank all of you readers who came by for my retirement reception. It humbled me to meet so many of you. Who the heck reads blogs these days?

Some of you. So thank you. I am not fully retired, however; I will be teaching a graduate course, “Writing With and About AI” for our School of Continuing Studies. AI will undoubtedly give us many new words and metaphors, but let’s stick to the Simpsons’ character yelling at a cloud. How did the word get associated with one’s “golden years”?

Etymology Online notes connections we might guess, to words such as “quarrel” with some rather old roots, “from Old French querelos ‘quarrelsome, argumentative’ and directly from Late Latin querulosus, from Latin querulus ‘full of complaints, complaining,’ from queri ‘to complain.’ ”

My notes about the word say “NB Wharton,” meaning “nota bene the novelist Edith,” one of my favorite writers. If I recall correctly, she used the word a bit in her works but her biographer R.W.B. Lewis also described her as being rather querulous in her later years.

I suppose if one must complain, it must be stated clearly, not weakly. Perhaps that’s our link to elderly mumble-grumbling? Who is listening, at that point? I plan on none of that, thank you.

May your voices be strong, not querulous, as you make yourselves heard. Our word has, after a long decline in usage, doubled in frequency since 2010. Good or bad? We can chat about that while getting senior discounts on coffee.

If you think of any words or metaphors to share with the community in 2025, send them to me at jessid -at- richmond -dot- edu or by leaving a comment below.

See all of our Metaphors of the Month here and Words of the Week here.

Word of the Week! Aftermath

So we come to the end of another year, with our final post for 2024. My aftermath of a final semester of full-time employment, surprisingly, goes to the root-meaning of this week’s word.

The OED is cooperating tonight. It informs me that as early as the 15th century, an aftermath meant “A second crop or new growth of grass (or occasionally another plant used as feed) after the first has been mown or harvested.” As fate and weather had it, I had tilled and sown with winter Ryegrass a hillside on our farm. This will be tilled in for Spring, as green manure for sunflowers and buckwheat. So my Rye is indeed an aftermath.

But why “math”? Some early examples include “after mathe” or “after meath,” and that gets closer to the etymology in play. If you look at The OED entry on “after mowth” we have it: the crop planted after mowing. How “mowth” became “math” escapes me.

In my case, I hopped on the tractor to mow down the weedy remains of the summer crop before tilling. Now we have green shoots of Ryegrass as our aftermath.

Figuratively, the word came to mean a lot more, usually what follows an event, usually a destructive or traumatic one. Let’s hope we don’t need to use that meaning and instead can re-seed our fields. Or we can listen to the Rolling Stones’ album, as I did in the aftermath of the Disco era, when we college students rediscovered all that was raw and urgent about Rock and Roll.

May your holidays be bright ones, and if you think of any words or metaphors to share with the community in 2025, send them to me at jessid -at- richmond -dot- edu or by leaving a comment below.

See all of our Metaphors of the Month here and Words of the Week here.

Image source: UK cover of the album, from Wikipedia.

Word of the Week! Resilience

Thanks to Dr. Bill Ross, in Mathematics, for nominating what looks to be our Final Word of 2024, though I may well squeeze in another before New Year’s Day. I use this one, or its common synonym, “grit,” frequently with my anxious students. Their training as Writing Consultants includes a unit on “failure as teacher.” Many of them have never encountered the idea and being young, they falter at small reverses that older folks often take in stride.

No, I’m not ordering them off my lawn and I do not think them weak. They simply lack experience. I did tell a rather shocked, hovering parent once “my philosophy is to let students stumble a bit, but to be there with a helping hand when they start to fall.” Thus a human acquires resilience. I know of no other method.

Our word is an old one, though it only acquired its modern sense in the 19th century, coming from the meaning of anything that proves “elastic” or able to rebound. The OED entry provides an 1807 first use in scientific parlance to express elasticity, with 1626 as first use for a physical recoiling from something. Though the latter is an obsolete usage, we still talk about “snapping back” after setbacks in our lives.

I’d like to know what words for this virtue appeared in ancient times, when one learned to be resilient fast, the alternative being not growing up at all. The OED’s entry cites an uncertain etymology, “Probably of multiple origins. Probably partly a borrowing from Latin,” perhaps “combined with an English element.”

How resilient is our word to linguistic change? Since 1970, frequency of use has nearly tripled. We talk about resilience, at least; that’s a start toward embodying it as well as designing our built world for resilience.

May your holidays be stress-free and your vocabularies interesting. Send me more words and metaphors for 2025 at jessid -at- richmond -dot- edu or by leaving a comment below. See all of our Metaphors of the Month here and Words of the Week here.

Image Source: “Resilience” by Chris Campbell at Flickr.