On Copyediting

Words shape reality.

Copyediting was my first media job, and it was a serious one—at least at the start of the last decade. Any seemingly minor mistake that missed my eye would get me a talking-to, either from my direct manager or, when I became senior editor, the editorial director. There weren’t many errors that did pass my eye, considering I was usually working a 10-hour shift without any breaks. I’d log on at 8:40 a.m. and read 10,000 words of television recaps before 10 a.m. I knew I had to quit this job, though, when I whined to friends at the bar about having missed a homophone switch-up that day. I’d ordered a shot of tequila with my Tecate so that I could cope (indie sleaze days, they call these times now, I think). The friends were a public school math teacher and a nurse. We were in our late twenties. Why the hell was the copy editor whining?

During my half-decade of daily copyediting, there were occasions that stick out—occasions that were about one single word. Could a bracelet be “insouciant,” as one fashion writer described it? When would it be appropriate to update the style guide from “mike” to the more commonly used “mic,” for god’s sake? Could a cartoon character from the ice age be “ethnic” simply because it was voiced by John Leguizamo? (“Always cut ethnic” is a rule in my personal style guide.)

I’ve been thinking about copyediting because I’m wondering how I would respond to current political moments through word and style choices. Wired, which—in my opinion—has been doing the best reporting on the matter, has been referring to Elon Musk’s “so-called Department of Government Efficiency,” underscoring its illegitimacy. The Trump administration has created a list of banned words, which somehow includes pronouns—an unavoidable aspect of English grammar that has become politicized in order to rile up hatred against a faux-Other—and that shows you just how important words and how they’re used can be. The list is so absurd that it would be funny if it weren’t fascist.

Often, mainstream news outlets have sidestepped naming genocide, the detaining of the undocumented and documented dissidents, blatant transphobia, and the erosion of reproductive rights, among many other right-wing projects (notably, Democrats have historically been fine with many such right-wing projects); often, mainstream outlets have used language in ways that normalize these things.

For example, is it an “arrest” or an “abduction” when federal agents remove a legal resident of the United States from his home with neither warrant nor criminal charge, as was done to Mahmoud Khalil? As of writing, Khalil is still being detained and has been unable to speak with his lawyers. The Times continues to call it an arrest, which gives it an air of legality, while anyone who’s watched an episode of Law & Order knows this isn’t due process. Yet, as experts on the subject Alejandra Oliva and Gaby del Valle have reported, this happens often and is usually done with some legal backing. Still, are the words being used to communicate this situation to the public meeting the moment?

If you’ve ever wondered whether copyediting matters, now might be the time when the power of language will become much more clear.