Motte and Bailey, III

One may, of course, deplore a culture in which seemingly irrational universal statements with epistemic import are deployed as emotive or connective rather than with logical precision.  But might one not equally deplore a culture of nitpicking in which attempts at finding common ground are routinely met with the equivalent of an academic “Says who?”

As an academic, naturally, I am prone to pursuing precision in language.  But is not such a pursuit in its own way as prescriptivist as insisting on the whom/who distinction?

Well, indeed, it is.  But while prescriptions for nearly-extinct pronoun case are about as important as a prescription for a grazed elbow, a prescription about precision in speech is about as important as insulin for a diabetic: one will not necessarily die without it, and there are ways around having to rely on it, but it sure helps to have some on hand.

Like so many other things, then, the issue of precision in speech is (or should be) a two-way street.  The more precise among us have an obligation in charity not to shout “motte and bailey” every time we’re dealing with more casual speakers, and the casual speakers have something of an obligation to ensure that, in tossing about their universals, they are in fact on the same wavelength as their present company.