“Omit needless words,” say Strunk and White, practicing what they preach. Their terse injunction sums up advice included in every contemporary style manual. Under a variety of headings-Officialese, Prolixity, Veribage, Preiphrasis, Windyfoggery, and Jargon-the experts agree that, when it comes to exposition, less is usually more. Surely most authors have read such advice or have heard similar strictures in composition classes, but economy and precision seem hard to come by.

Bad prose proliferates because writers model their style on what they read most, and their daily fare-whether textbooks, reports, memorandums, or newspapers-abounds in circumlocution. Educators, sociologists, scholars, lawyers, bureaucrats, technicians, and business executives are all notorious producers of gobbledygook. Here, for example, is a bank president addressing stockholders in a 1980 annual report:

With the begining of the new ’80s, it is readily ascertainable that there has been little if any improvement in the overall national or generanl local economy. It is expected by some economists that a general upturn on the national level should come about sometime during mid-1981. However, with the increase in taxes starting in January, mainly an increase in social security, this will reduce the amount of free funds available for the stimulation of consumer spednding.

Someone less given to beatign around the bush migh have written:

In 1980 we saw little if any improvement in the economy, national or local, and although some economists expect an upturn in mid01981, the tax increases scheduled to begin in January, mainly for social security, will leave consumers with less money to spend.

A simple statement like this is usually harder to compose than a verbose one, but even if it came naturally, the banker might prefer the longer version. Straightforward sentences sound unimpressive to many writers, and officialese, creating tin ears, perpetuates itself. Unchecked by the efforts of learned and vocal opponents, logorrhea plagues the country. It’s rather like smoking. This chapter can only warnof the dangers, describe the symptioms, and prescribe remedies, enabling writers who want to kick the habit to cure themselves.

Before we go on to examples and techniques, I should make clear that writing concisely doesn’t mean composing sentences like “Me Tarzan, you Jane.” It means omitting nedless words, the deadwood that does nothing but detract from both substance and style. The pruned sentence must merge not only leaner and clearer but also more graceful and more effective than it was, better able to do what you want it to do. Long sentences aren’t necessarily wordy, not if every word counts. As good writers know, leisurely sentences have their purposes-to contrast with short ones, say, or to establish a desired tone. A sentence can be too tight. Sometimes you need a clause instead of a phrase, a phrase instead of a word. What you’re after is a supple style; you don’t want to compact your language, trading looseness for density. But you’re not likely to run that risk unless you’re a compulsive polisher. Condensing to a fault is so rare a failing that it needs only passing mention. Of course, if you’d like to change the last sentence to The rarity of overtightness obviates elaboration, you have something to worry about.

With these qualifications out of the way, we can turn to the problem of recognizing and excising verbiage. Certain telltale characteristics signal wordy sentences. As you read over your writing, watch for the symptoms described below, try eliminating them in the ways the discussion suggests, and see your style improve.

Profile of a wordy sentence

You can almost detect a wordy sentence by looking at it-at least if you can recognize weak verbs, ponderous nouns, and strings of prepositional phrases. Each of these features typifies prolixity, and they often occur in combination.

Weak Verbs

A rambling, unwieldy sentence generally hangs from an inert verb-the verb to be (am, are, is, was, were, being, been), some other vague, actionless verb like have or exist, or a passive form (the verb to be plus a past paticiple; e.g., is belived, was seen). Pay attention to the verbs you use, and when you find a weak one, try substituting something more vigorous. Ask what happens in the sentence. If you haven’t expressed the action as a verb, you’ve probably buried it in a verbal (the to or ing form of the verb), an adjective, a noun, or a subordinate clause, as the writers have done in the excerpts quoted below. Exhume the action, make it a verb, and you’re almost certain to tighten and enliven the wording.

Consider this sentence, quoted from a computer company’s promotional material. It appears in a paragraph explaining that the new technology, by enabling employees to work at home, will affect real estate values:

More remote, less densely populated suburbs, whose lower values were often a function of hwo far they were from work centers, and small towns in rural locations, whose lower values were a reflection of the difficulty of earning a living, are likeyly to see considerable appreciation fo their property values in the next two decades.

If you check the verbs in this long-winded sentence, you can readily spot the trouble. The verb to be occurs in the main clause as well as in the subordinate ones-four times in all-while nouns and verbals (reflection, appreciation, earning, to see) freeze all the action. A little analysis suggests that the “event” in the sentence is the appreciation of property values. When you make appreciate the principal verb, it attracts the proper subject, and everything else falls into place:

Since many people will no longer have to commute to work centers to earn a living, property values in the more distant suburbs and rural areas should appreciate considerably in the next two decades.

Notice that the revision eliminates needless words as well as static verbs. While it may seem to leave out information included in the original, the omitted words tell readers nothing that they don’t already know, nothing that isn’t implicit in what’s left. You could even tighten the wording a bit more:

Rural and exurban property values should appreciate considerably in the next two decades as it becomes easier for people to earn a living in areas remote from work centers.

When you consider substitutes for weak and passive verbs, you many have several good options, and the choice will depend on exactly what you want to highlight.

In the following excerpt, from a newspaper article on a town’s plans to build an animal shelter, the wordiness stems from the passive voice, the form a verb takes when its subject is not acting but acted on:

The shelter will be owned by the town, but it will be run by members of the humane society and supported, in part, by funds raised by them. The bulk of the operating fundings, however, will be supplied by the town.

When you make all the verbs active, other economies suggest themselves:

Although the town will own the shelter and pay most of the operating expenses, members of the humane society will run the facility and provide additional support through fund raising.

The revisioin collapses two sentences into one. In the original the passive subjects shelter and bulk of the operating funds need verbs of their own, but when town becomes the acting subject, it can govern two verbs with different objects, thus enabling one clause to supply the same information that formerly required two.

The next example comes from a letter that the head of a college English department sends prospective major:

The English Department is unusually strong for a college of this size. It consists of twelve faculty members, whose fields of special interest cover the range of English and American literature. The diversity and educational background of this department is suggested by the fact that important work published by its members includes such subjects as Shakespeare, Milton, Jane Austen, Tennyson, Wordsworth, Pope, Melville, and Southern “agrarian” writers, T. S. Eliot and Katherine Anne Porter.

This excerpt has several problems, but notice particularly that the weak main verbs in the three sentences attract needless words, that the second sentence subordinates its primary information (the faculty members’ range of interests), and that the third sentence repeats information given in the second. You might revise this way:

The twelve faculty members who compose the English Department make it an unusually strong one for a college of this size. Their diverse special interests and educational backgrounds cover the range of English and American literature, and their publications include important works on Shakespeare, Milton, Jane Austen, Tennyson, Wordsworth, Pope, Melville, and Southern “agrarian” writers, T. S. Eliot and Katherine Anne Porter.

As you check your sentences for weak verbs, always consider eliminating leisurely sentence openers like There is and It is important to note that. You can usually cut them easily, and most sentences work better if you go right to the point instead of sidling up to it. But apparently not all experts agree. A composition manual probides this example:

There is a hasty way of writing which is counterpart to the hasty way of reading. It is becoming more common every year and raises less and less protest.

Removing the weak verbs leaves:

A hasty way of writing, counterpart to the hasty way of reading, grows more common every year and raises less and less protest.

But you can condense even more:

Hasty writing, like hasty reading, grows …

A financial columnist wrote the next example:

To make the most of your investments, it is essential that you understand what your goals are and what your financial temperament is.

As always, you can reduce it is esential that to must or have to and eliminate the what clauses. Revised, the sentence reads:

To make the most of your inventments, you have to understand your goals and financial temperament.

The last two examples, unlike the earlier ones, may not strike you as especially wordy, and perhaps the revised versions do sacrifice emphasis to brevity and directness. If you want that emphasis, if you want to draw particular attention to a statement, you can justify slowing the pace.

No one recommends that you banish the verb to be and all passive forms from your wirtting. I wouldn’t tamper, certainly, with “To be or not to be, that is the question” or even with “She is more to be pitied than censured.” You may coose the passive, for example, because you want to put its subject first in the sentence or because you do not know, or do not want to reveal, who is performing the action. But when you use extra words, make sure that you are doing so purposefully, that you are not just surrendering to laziness and poor craftsmanship. As you edit what you’ve written, always consider replacing static verbs. While you should keep those that provide the tone or emphasis or variety you want, you’ll find that most sentences beneift when you shift to active verbs.

Ponderous Nouns

Wordy writing not only droops from weak verbs but sags under bulky nouns-especially ong Latinate ones with endings like tion and ment and ence. The two characteristics complement each other. Consider this sentence from a letter to the New York Times:

The inference that because high school graduates are more likely to be employed than dropouts, the differences may be attributed to the possession of a diploma is suspect since dropouts and graduates may differ in a variety of ways relevant to both graduation prospects and employment status.

Lifeless and noun-burdened, the sentence makes dull and difficult reading. You have to grope for the meaning. If you proceed mechanically, looking for verbs to replace and nouns to eliminate, you can eventually pare the sentence down:

It is not necessarily the diploma that makes high school graduates more employable than dropouts; other differences may affect both their education and their job prospects.

Isn’t the shorter version easier to understand? Does the original tell you anything more? Compare the number of nouns and the number of static verbs in the two sentences, and notice the economies achieved in the revision, despite that opening It is. Although the sentence could begin The diploma does not necessarity make …, the more emphatic lead, which adds only two words, stresses the statement as a counterargument.

The next example comes from an article on interdisciplinary college courses. After pointign out that the instructors in such courses teach material in subject areas other thatn their own, the author goes on to say:

One of the effects of this purposeful disengagement from expertise is that students are disabused of the notion that engagement in disciplinary material on a fairly elementary level requires mastery of that discipline.

If your ear doesn’t tell you that this sentence needs work, the ratio of nouns to active verbs should (not to mention that string of prepositional phrases, the symptom of wordiness discussed in the next section). To revise, first choose an active verb for the main clause. Ask yourself what takes place in the sentence, and you’ll find the event confined in a passive verb and tucked away in a subordinate clause-student are disabused. To make that idea active, you can either say that instructors, by teaching outside their disciplines, disabuse students of a false notion or that nonspecialist teachers enable students to discover somethign. Either way you automatically eliminate the limp opening-One of the effects of. A sentence can make clear that something is an effect without using the label, and there’s no apparent need to specify that the effect is one of several. (If that information is pertinent, you can include it elsewhere; here it gets in the way.) You might then consider these alternatives:

By venturning ouside their specialties, teachers disabuse students of the notion that only those who have mastered a discipline can deal with its subject matter.

When teachers venture outside their specialties, students discover that one need not have mastered a discipline to deal with its subject matter.

These versions do omit on a fairly elementary level, but why would students think that “engagement … on a fairly elementary level requires mastery”? Surely they wouldn’t expect first-year French students to do without the translations in a Truffaut film. Nevertheless, the omission leaves something to be desired. The revisions almost imply the advisability of having know-nothings pontificate on a subject-an unlikely suggestion in an article favoring interdisciplinary courses. Presumably, then, the original sentence does not mean what it says. After explaining that instructors teach material outside their areas of expertise, the author probably intented to make this point:

By venturing into another field, teachers demonstrate that nonspecialists can deal with the subject matter to some extent, thus disabusing students of the notion that any engagement in the discipline requires mastery.

Though not much shorter than the original, this version makes its words count.

Here’s one more nonn-heavy excerpt, this one from a manufacturer’s annual report:

The stability and quality of our financial performance will be developed through the profitable execution of our exsiting business, as well as the acquistion or development of new businesses.

Before you look at the revision below, try one yourself, following the steps used in earlier examples. The verbiage should yield easily, but the muddy original-perhaps an example of intentional corporate obfuscation-makes more than one interpretation possible. You may prefer your condensation to this one:

We will improve our financial performance not only by executing our existing business more profitably but by acquiring or developing new businesses.

Do you object to the omission of stability and quality? Would restoring these terms make the revision mean more? You would have a hard time justifying quality, but stability may be another matter. Although the idea of improved financial performance should encompass the idea of greater stability, readers don’t necessarily think about stability when they see improve our financial performance, and they’re not likely to stop to analyze the phrase. Undoubtedly the sentence concerns a company in which instability has been a problem, and the revision carries no such implication. If the idea is important, you might choose this wording:

We will work toward a more stable and profitable financial performance not only by executing our existing business more efficiently but by acquiring or developing new businesses.

Strings of Prepositional Phrases

As you might expect, strings of prepositional phrases often keep company with weak verbs and ponderous nouns. Look closely at any sentence that depends heavily on prepositions, and if you count more than three phrases in a row, consider revising. The following examples exhibit all the symptoms of wordiness we have been discussing; again, even if you can’t hear the problem, you can detect it mechanically. The first comes from a doctoral dissertation:

The more resoned analysis made by the Saint-Simonians of the nature of the new power situation in France and of the reasons the present government could not satisfy the needs of the people was confirmed by these developments.

This sentence features a passive main verb and seven prepositional phrases, four of them consecutive and all with nouns as objects. Changing to the active voice eliminates one phrase and gives you These develpments confirmed … (It also has the advatage, incidentally, of bringing subject and verb closer together, thus making the sentence easier to read.) As you look for expendable phrases, you should see that of the nature of the new power situation means no more than of the new power situation and that of the reasons can be left implicit; a reasoned analysis of the government’s inability to satisfy would obviously give the underlying reasons. You can cut another phrase by using the Saint-Simponians’ instead of made by the Saint-Simonians. (When an of or by phrase simply denotes possession or authorship, you can often substitute the possessive form of the noun. But be careful: not all of phrases translate into possessives. If, for example, you change the assassination of the dictator to the dictator’s assassination, you risk turning the victim into a murderer.) With four phrases eliminated, the sentence reads:

These developments confirmed the Sain-Simonians’ more reasoned analysis of the new power situation in France and of the present government’s inability to satisfy the people’s needs.

In the next example, from a letter notifying stockholders of an annual meeting, only the first sentence has an objectionable string of prepositions, but the second plays a part in the revision:

At the meeting there will be a report to the stockholders on the progress of the Company during the past year. A discussion period will also take place, during which the stockholders will have an opportunity to discuss matters of Company interst.

The two sentences convey information that, properly arranged, would fit in one. You don’t need a knapsack and a briefcase to carry a book and a memo pad, and you don’t need both will be and will take place to tell readers that two things will happen at the meeting. Then, too, the second sentence, in announcing that stockholders will discuss in a discussion period, gives readers the same information twice. Such repetition reflects sloppy sentence structure, and it should disappear when you tighten the wording. Finally, the phrase matters of Company interest tells readers something that can go without saying. Two or three short sentences in a row should trigger a check for wordiness just as a long rambling one does. Sentence-combining drills in rhetoric handbooks teach students how to subordinate some elements to others as a means of varying structure. The same technique often eliminates needless words. Doesn’t this sentence say as much as the original two?

At the meeting the president [or whoever] will report to stockholders on the Company’s progress during the year and then invite questions and comments.

Now let’s look at a literary example:

How greatly Goethe was under the spell of the concept of the single ideal of beauty in his classicistic period is illustrated by the fact that he was pleased when readers could not distinguish between his and Schiller’s anonymous publications.

Here five consecutive prepositional phrases limp up to the weak and wordy predicate is illustrated by the fact that. Structuring sentence in this way relegates the dynamic content to a subordinate clause with another weak predicate-How greatly Goethe was under the spell. To avoid the passive voice, you might decide not to make Goethe the subject, since he is acted on, not acting. The action belongs to the concept that held Goethe under its spell-or that captivated him, a substitution that gets rid of one phase. You’re now down from three of phrases in a row to two. Can you do better? Probably not. You might be tempted to drop concept of, but the sentence would then suggest that Goethe endorsed a particular ideal beauty rather than the notion of a single ideal. And ,of cource, a single ideal of beauty differs from a single ideal beauty. Still, going from five consecutive phrases to two represents a considerable improvement:

The concept of a single ideal of beauty so captivated Goethe in his classicistic period that he was pleased when …

If you wanted more emphasis on Goethe, you might prefer to settle for the passive:

In his classicistic period Goethe was so taken with the concept of a single ideal of beauty that …

You might even think of a way to have your cake and eat it too:

In his classicistic period Goethe believed so strongly in a single ideal of beauty that …

The verb believe enables you to use a single ideal of beauty without a preceding concept of, but it lacks the force of the alterantives. You would have to decide whether you lose more than you gain. Each of these versions eliminates the prolixity of the original, and they do not exhaust the possibilities. In revising you usually have the leeway to do it your way.

When it comes to consecutive prepositional phrases, our final example, an obligatory statement in some financial reports, sets a record: it boasts a string of seven, not packed into the subject as in the Goethe sentence, but dragged along behind, like so many tin cans tied to the newlyweds’ car:

The financial statements and related data presented elsewhere in this report have been prepared in accordance with generally accepted accounting principles, which require the measurement of financial position and operating results in terms of historical dollars without regard to changes in the relative purchasing power of money over time.

If you look for the gist of this message, the sentence seems to be saying only that the report accords with generally accepted accounting principles in stating data in historical dollars. The long subject, The finnancial statements and related data presented elsewhere in this report, includes information too obvious to mention; the predicate, have been prepared in accordance with, says no more than accord or follow; and measuring financial data in terms of historical dollars makes no more sense than measuring a room in terms of square feet. Thus the statement boils down to:

Following generally accepted accounting principles, this report states the Company’s financial position, operating results, and related data in historical dollars, disregarding changes in purchasing power.

In fact, the last part, disregarding changes in purchasing power, translates into “diregarding inflationary chagnes” - since purchasing power has only declined in recent decades. But accountants accustomed to the original formula would probably agree to these revisions reluctantly if at all. Although a financial writer I consulted confirms that the condensed version neither alters the sense of the original nor omits anything that is not implicit, he also explains that historical dollars is a sacrosanct technical term designating sums not adjusted for current equivalents. But if historical dollars means “dollars unadjusted for changes in purchasing power,” isn’t that last phrase superfluous? “Not really,” says my adviser. “It tells you that such changes have occurred.” To the initiated, jargon apparently has its own clarity, and would-be reformers have an uphill battle.

Shortcuts

Routine Condensing

In addition to checking your writing for lifeless verbs, excessive nouns, and chains of prepositions, you should watch for specific constructions, stylistic mannerisms, and even words that almost always contribute only verbiage. With practice, you’ll develop a conditioned response to these faults and learn to edit them out as soon as you spot them-and, eventually, even before you put them down.

Perhaps, as you’ve studied the examples and revisions, you’ve noticed that an active verb often replaces a noun or an adjective sandwiched between a weak verb and a preposition. Such a change eliminates two or three words: for example, is indicative of becomesindicates; have an influence on becomes influence; gives considerations to , considers; make an assessment of, assess; is capable of, can; make use of, use; is of interest to, interests; and is a benefit to, benefits. If you check your sentences for weak verbs and expendable prepositional phrases, you can’t fail to notice such constructions; converting to an active verb is always easy and usually desirable. Similarly, when an of phrase follows a noun ending in tion, you can often economize by changing the noun to a gerund, the ing form of the verb used as a noun; thus, by the implementation of the plan becomes by implementing the plan; in the creation of becomes in creating; in the discussion of, in discussing; through the examination of, through examining; and by the addition of, by adding.

You should also always look critically at a relative clause-an adjective clause generally introduced by who, which, or that (understood or expressed). Sometimes you can simply delete the subject and verb. These sentences show the expendable words in brackets:

There are at least two larger opportunities [that exist] in this area. (Or, At least two larger opportunities exist in this area.)

The result is an organization [that is] uniquely tailored to its customer base.

Those [who are] invited to participate on the panel pay their own travel expenses.

Montaque, [which is located] in the far northwest corner of the state, is the best place for sighting blue herons.

Sometiems you have to substitute a word or two for the three or four you eliminate. For example:

Poor households pay more for [the -> their] food [that they buy] because local merchants exploit them.

This is a development [the -> with indeterminate] social consequences [of which are indeterminate]. (Or: This development has indeterminate social consequences.)

Fundamental to our operation [is the varitey of -> are our many community] services [that our company has to offer to the community].

Be alert, too, to the possibility of converting a prepositional phrase to an adjective or an adverb. Of great complexity can become complex; at this point in tiime, now; of extreme importance, extremely important; and on many occasions, often. Obviously you won’t want to sacrifice every phrase that has a single-word equivalent. The phrases may provide the rhythm, variety, or emphasis you need. I would not say, for example, that the biblical merchant should have sold all that he had for an expensive pearl instead of a pearl of great price or that Macbeth should have referred to an idiot’s noisy and furious tale instead of to a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury. (Writers like God and Shakespeare know when to break the rules.) I do suggest that you see what you gain-or lose-by substituting a word for a phrase. Sometimes tightening provides a way out of stylistic infelicities other than wordiness, and knowing the tricks of the trade gives you an advantage. Had you written We will produce evidence at a later time that will prove us right, your readers wouldn’t know whether the evidence or the time would prove you right. Changing at a later time to later would remove the ambiguity.

Also watch for common prepostional compounds that take two to five words to say what you could say in one word or could even leave unsaid. Here are some of the most common offenders:

He believes that [in order] to study efficiently you need …

Research undertaken [fro the purpose of exploring -> to explore] the possibilities …

The response [on the part] of top management to the proposal …

She wanted to see me [in connection with -> about] the new campaign.

The question [as to] whether it is safe to proceed needs an answer.

[In the eventuality that -> If] the company goes bankrupt, its creditors …

[In view of the fact that -> Since] you are in the 50 per cent tax bracket, you should …

In [the process of actually] doing the job, you learn …

Finally, train yourself to recognize and remove empty prose additives like case, character, degree, the fact that, factor, instance, level, nature, and quality. Almost always expendable, any of these terms should set off a reflex action like a flashing light at a railrod crossing. “Whenever …. your pen betrays you to one or another of them,” wrote Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch in his celebreated essay “On Jargon,” “pull yourslef up and take though.” Of course no one objects to these words in the senses in which they have content, such as case referring to an argument or to an event like a fire or an emergency, character as a figure in a novel, and nature as the Great Outdoors; but you should have no trouble distinguishing legitimate uses from the periphrastic expressions that clutter virtually all writing. For example:

[In the case of] Layton Brothers [, the company] didn’t adjust quickly enough to the changing market.

The remark seemed hostile [in character] and offended the interviewer.

They carried their complaint to [the level of] the top administration.

Because [of the fact that] the development ran into delays …

The principal assets of the bank are monetary [in nature].

The production was [of] inferior [quality].

In [the instance of] our first production our mistakes was faulty casting.

We relied on [the factor of] surprise to give us an advantage.

They showed a greater [degree of] interest in the outcome.

Eliminate all such circumlocutions-and I do mean practice total abstinence-at least until you break yourself of the habit; by then you should know when to break the rules.

Choosing Bargain Words

Every book on writing tells you to use vivid verbs and concrete nouns. If you don’t, you’ll probably find yourself trying to bolster lifeless verbs and vague nouns with modifiers, thus adding words only because you’ve settled for less than les mots justes. You might say, for example, He walked wearily and laboriously when you could convey the same image with He trudged. Precise words are bargains; by combining both general and specific meanings, they permit economies. You get more communication per word. Trudge, amble, stroll, lumber, stride, and lope all mean both walk and a particular way of walking; coupe, sedan, convertible and station wagon all mean both car and a particular type of car. In some contexts, of course, car and walk provide all the information you want the reader to have-as in A car usually travels fifteen times faster than a person walking. More colorful wording of such a statement would only be silly and distracting, as in A Mercedes travels twenty times faster than a strolling minstrel. But when you want the readers to envision what you’re writing about, as you usually do if you find yourself adding adjectives and adverbs, make sure to choose the most specific nouns and verbs you can. Surrender to modifiers only as a last resort.

You may detect a dependence on general and abstract words as you check for weak verbs and excessive nouns. But look at your modifiers, too, and ask yourself whether you would need them if you substituted stronger nouns and verbs. Often a sentence features a general noun or verb and then gives a supporting role to the specific word that should have had the lead. The dog we owned was a beagle hound, for example, doesn’t say any more than We owned a beagle. The executive who reported that her company’s new policy resulted increased morale among the employees could simply have written that the policy boosted employee morale; and the angency that concluded an announcement with For more information communicate with the director by writing him at … could have communicated more directly with For more information wirte the director at …

When you do choose a precise word, trust it to do its job without redundant modifiers-adjectives or adverbs that give the same information as the words they describe. If, in revising, you decided to change In my final conclusion I stated that … to I finally concluded that …, you’d be on the right track, but you’d have retained a redundant finally. Here are some redundancies culled from manuscripts: first introduced, final coup de grace, a temporary sojourn, totally devoid of, flawless perfection, a small trifle, a new innovation, on first entering, straight linear movement, and general consensus. You can save yourself from such solecisms if you watch for them and use a dictionary whenever you’re a little hazy about the definition of a word you modify. The meaning may include the qualification contributed by the adjective or adverb. If you look up consensus, for example, you’ll find that it means “general agreement in opinion.”

Rewdundancy, of course, does not reside exclusively in modifiers. A banker with a decided flair for it refers to unprecedented interest rates that set an all-time record, thanks stockholders who have generously assisted us with their help, and reports that his institution has continued to maintain success since the outset of our entry into the computer field. Redumdancy creeps into prose in such varied ways that there’s no cut-and-dried method of avoiding it, but look for it. Qualifying in phrases, for example, always deserve a moment’s thought. Writers commonly lapse into such obviously superfluous expressions as green in color, larger in size, twenty-four in number, handsome in appearance, and rectangular in shape.

You probably can’t, and you undoubtedly shouldn’t, eliminate all modifiers, but you probably should delete all intensive adverbs-very, really, truly, actually, and the like. If you’ve chosen the right word, adding a very defeats your purpose. If you haven’t got the right word, the very offters poor compensation. Readers pay no attention to this overused word. If you want to put a very in front of a large, you should consider substituting enormous, huge, gigantic, or massive. Stressed when spoken, hte intensive adverbs do accent the words they modify and somtimes attach themselves even to absolute words-like complete, unique, and pure-which, literally constured, have no degrees. In writing, however, they attenuate rather than strengthen. Consider really terrific, absolutely stunning, truly sensational, extremely vital, and very devastating. The adverbs reduce powerful adjectives to conversational gush, depriving them of their stark force. Almost all writers succumb to these trivializing intensives. Be on guard.

By the same token, don’t use a strong word if you then feel compelled to pull its punch with a restricting modifier. If you write that someone was rather furious, you can’t mean much more than irritated or at most angered, unless you’re attempting humor; and something you describe as fairly essential can’t be much more than important.

Leaving Unsaid

Sometimes wordiness comes from spelling out what can go without saying. For example, essays commonly begin something like In this paper I will discuss three aspects of contemporary life that …. If the writer omitted the first six words and led with Three aspects of contemporary life that …, would the audience learn anything less? Wouldn’t anyone reading such a topic sentence know that the paper discusses those aspects? A book review states, The third chapter of the book deals with administrative problems and the solution that have been proposed for these problems, but The third chapter deals with administrative problems and proposed solutions would provide as much information. If a review refers to the third chapter, no one is going to wonder where that third chapter is, and if solutions appears soon after problems the reader can’t fail to take “to these problems” for granted. Once you’ve described an idea-say, that human beings should seek harmony with nature-you can thereafter refer to it as “this theory” or “view” or “so-and-so’s argument,” without adding the defining that clause with every mention. And whenever you can use a pronoun to refer clearly to waht you’ve already named. do so. If you find the same words and phrases recurring in a sentence or paragraph, ask yourself whether you’re telling readers what they already know. In the following excerpt, from a bulletin for college teachers, the expendable words appear in brackets:

[In the present paper I propose to deal with] one type of interdisciplinary curriculum [which] can be built upon material borrowed from related departments, whether or not the specialists [in these related departments] choose to teach the interdisciplinary offerings [so constructed. By this remark I am recognizing the fact that] occasionally a generalist who does not hold a Ph.D. in any of the specialized fields [that have made a contribution to the construction of such interdisciplinary course offerings] may be the one to [take on the responsibility for] teach[ing] the courses [so constructed, rather than a specialist from one of the contributing areas].

If you remove the needless words and adjust what’s left, you can get something like this:

One type of interdisciplinary curriculum borrows material from the related departments without necessarily borrowing their faculty member. In other words, occasionally a generalist, without a Ph.D. in a contributing field, may teach a course.

Trim sentences, like trim bodies, usually require far more effort than flabby ones. But though stribing toward a lean and graceful style involves hard work, it can also be fun-like swimming or running. Shaping an attractive sentence from a formless mass of words is a copy editor’s high. One author sent back his edited manuscrpt with the comment, “You seem to have chiseled out a fairly decent essay from the pile of material I sent you.” The metaphor is apt. An Eskimo carver selects a promising stone, studies it to see what figure it suggests, then chips away at it to free the desired form; you can approach your draft in much the same way. Or, if you don’t fancy yourself a sculptor, you can think of your draft as a puzzle; to solve it, you have to find and eliminate the superfluities that obscure your meaning. The object is to delete as many words as possible without sacrificing substance or noance.

If you follow the steps recommended here-checking sentence elements one by one, omitting the needless, replacing the weak-you can’t fail to improve your style. As you gain experience, the remedial procedures will become largely routine. Moreover, your early drafts will require fewer corrections. You’ll be writing better sentences in the first place. “Getting rid of superfluous words,” Wilson Follett syas, “has an advantage commonly overlooked: the automatic suppression of weaknesses that flourish in diffuse writing … Anyone who will struggle to reduce [a] hundred words to fifty without losing meaning will see looseness, inconsistency, and aberration vanish.”