On acronyms

[Miss Mae]

Is there a rule on how many acronyms can pepper the first paragraph of a letter, Sir?

[Joe Carillo]

No, Miss Mae, I don’t think there’s any such rule limiting the number of acronyms in correspondence, whether letter, memo, e-mail or what have you. But personally, I won’t have a very high regard for people who are so insensitive and inconsiderate—and likely showy and very lazy to spell out words, too—as to befuddle the recipients of their letters with too many acronyms. I would say that two totally unfamiliar acronyms in the first paragraph are one too many.

To give you a better idea of what I think about inveterate acronym-pushers, let me share with you an excerpt from “Language as Alphabet Soup,” an essay that I wrote for my English-usage column in The Manila Times in the early 2000s and that later formed part of my 2009 book Give Your English the Winning Edge:

…(T)he existing repertoire of words of a language is usually adequate to communicate the more mundane tasks, actions, and ideas of its speakers. It is only when faced with entirely new and extremely complex activities, processes, and concepts that the users of a language get stumped. They will then have three options when this happens: invent new words for those activities, processes, and concepts; explain each baffling aspect in laborious detail every time; or come up with acronyms as shortcut.

The first two options are, of course, anathema to the scientists, technologists, or conceptualizers who originate novel ideas and things; they are also a vexation to the bureaucrats and laymen who must make those ideas and things produce results in the workplace.

This is why a new, thriving cottage industry of sorts has emerged in the language business: acronym development, or the forming of a word from the initial letter or letters of each of the successive parts of a compound term or phrase. And from the looks of it, unless their makers and users find a way to moderate and rationalize their use, acronyms are well on their way to making the English language a veritable alphabet soup.

See how thick and cryptic that alphabet soup has become by going over this acronym-studded corporate memo: “EVPO-JAC wants us ASAP to (1) intensify both the B2C and B2B aspects of our WAN operations, (2) refocus our SOHO services, (3) reexamine our SWOTS in the Cellular Division, and (4) target an EBITDA in 2004 of 50 percent over last year’s. FYI&G.”

Here, corporate and technological acronyms have conspired to form a new jargon that we might call “corpotechnolese,” decipherable only by information-technology savvy managers and geeks. And would the statement above make sense when the words hiding in those acronyms are flushed out? Of course it would: “Mr. Jaime A. Castro, Executive Vice President for Operations, wants us to do the following as soon as possible: (1) intensify both the Business-to-Customer and Business-to-Business aspects of our Wide Area Network operations, (2) refocus our Small Office-Home Office services, (3) reexamine our Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, (and) Threats in the Cellular Division, and (4) target 2004 Earnings Before Interest, Taxes, Depreciation, and Amortization of 50 percent over last year’s. For your information and guidance.”

But as we know, acronyms aren’t really all that bad and confusing. When easy to read and pronounce and when not particularly cacophonic, a few are actually able to shed off their acronym status, get lower-case-letter treatment in standard dictionaries, and open up a whole new world of meaning for us. Imagine modern English without these evocative words that once were acronyms: “radar” (radio detection and imaging), “sonar” (sound navigation and ranging), “laser” (light amplification by simulated emission of radiation), “maser” (microwave amplification by simulated emission of radiation), “quasar” (quasi-stellar radio source), “scuba” (self-contained underwater breathing apparatus), “snafu” (situation normal-all fouled up), “yuppie” (young, urban professional + the suffix –pie), and “wysiwig” (“what you see is what you get,” a reference to computer screen displays that exactly reflect the appearance of the printed document). Most acronyms, however, soon lose currency and die without meriting a dictionary entry.

But the urge to come up with acronyms is simply irresistible to brevity-struck people. For why else would there be the acronym ACRONYM for “acronym” itself, which stands for “Abbreviated Coded Rendition of Name Yielding Meaning”*? Therein lies the grave danger to English becoming an even thicker alphabet soup.

That, to indulge myself with just one acronym for the road, is IMHO.

--------------------
*This turns out to be a snarky contemporary contrivance though. Actually, the acronym “ACRONYM” is a 1940s American derivation from the Greek akron for “end or tip” + onuma for “name.” So there.

[Miss Mae]

What's IMHO, Sir?

[Joe Carillo]

Not to endorse them but simply FYI, the following acronyms and what they stand for are from InternetSlang.com:

IMHO  In My Humble Opinion

Other terms relating to "opinion":
· ATMO   According To My Opinion
· GASSED Have a high opinion of yourself
· IANAL   I Am Not A Lawyer (this is an uninformed opinion)
· IMAHO   In My Absolutely Honest Opinion
· IMAO   In My Arrogant Opinion
· IMBO   In My Biased Opinion
· IMCO   In My Considered Opinion
· IMEO   In My Educated Opinion
· IMMAO   In My Most Arrogant Opinion
· IMNSHO In My Not So Humble Opinion
· IMO           In My Opinion
· IMOO   In My Own Opinion
· IMPO   In My Personal Opinion
· IYO           In Your Opinion
· JMHO   Just My Humble Opinion
· JMO   Just My Opinion
· MHO   My Honest Opinion
· MOO   Matter of Opinion, My Own Opinion
· MPO   My Personal Opinion
· NMO   Not My Opinion
· TINALO* This Is Not A Legal Opinion
---------
*This last is not to be mistaken for the Tagalog word that means "beaten."

[Miss Mae]

Thank you, Sir!