Block and Bridge Over Troubled Water
One of my legions of loyal readers, known only by his International Espionage Code Name, H0lyc0w, added a couple excellent phrases to the List of Words and Phrases I Realize I Say Too Often, which, in the interest of brevity and inclusivness, I'll rechristen Idiomatic Experics. H0lyc0w writes:
Talking and thinking simultaneously is an artform that very few can master to any degree of dexterity, and doing so usually requires a pause, however brief. Unforuntely, we've been conditioned that "uhhh" and "ummm" are crutches of the stupid, which they're not. Granted, they can be annoying as hell, especially when listening to a speaker on the radio or some other venue where they're not seen, and if someone who "uhhs" a lot is standing next to someone who doesn't, they will definately seem less in command of their thoughts (see 2004 Presidential Debate #1). The "uhhhhhs" and "mmmmm" or "ngggggs" stand out like warts and can make some speakers intolerable. Knowing this, newscasters, some politicians, and marketers have worked hard to supplant these nonverbal audible pauses with ever more inane and repitive phrases like "that having been said" and "I think what we're seeing here is" and "if you take a look at the bigger picture, what emerges is a sense that..." and the like.
To me, a real hedge phrase is one that appears to express a point, but instead strongly suggests it while leaving a bail-out hatch for later back-spinning in necessary. Politicians are not the sole officers of this tactic, only the most visible on television. I do it all the time, even when I don't mean to. Phrases like"suggest" and "seems to" and "a kind of a" are a way of tinting the hair without dying it, a shade that will wash out with a few shampoos if necessary. So, for example, a military analyst on CNN will say that "The rise in insugent-related casualties Iraq seems to suggest a new level of lawlessness." Well, no, they don't "seem to suggest" lawlessness, or even "suggest" lawlessness, they *illustrate* lawlessness. Nobody can say that, though, because the statement is so clear that, if spoken in public, one is locked in.
I don't think hedge phrases are inherently bad, and in fact, are appropriate when a public figure is confronted with a question that is new to them or about a topic they don't know about. As much as I'd like my leaders to say, "I don't know, I'll get back to you," I live in this world and realize that won't fly with the character assassins and footsoldier bloglodites that lie in wait to shred the character of those with whom they disagree. But to move from a clear position to a mire of hedges is disastrous - witness the Bush administration's deliberate shift in language from "known stockpiles of nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons of mass destruction" to "Saddam engaged in weapons of mass destruction programs" to the State of the Union coup de gras, "weapons of mass destruction-related program activities."
And while we're on the topic, an Iraq-related idiomatic expiry is "on the ground," a la "Things look bad on the TV, but on the ground real progress is being made." As the 2004 Presidential campaign moves on, "on the ground" is used by both candidates with a mounting suggestion that those who haven't been "on the ground " don't have what it takes to be President. The Kerry camp uses it as a 21st century replacement for of "in country." The Bushies uses it to suggest that their team is intimately famliar with the day-to-day lives of the tired and strung out poverty-class soldiers and reservists that follow orders and pray their families never have to see a grainy web video where they're sitting cross-legged in a jumpsuit in front of a man holding a massive serrated carving blade. I bet if you asked the Bergs about the reality on the ground, they might suggest that their family cut isn't worth your tax cut.
Anyway, I think H0lyC0w's analysis is correct: much of 24-hour cable "infotainment" is driving the rampant adoption of many of these phrases, both directly and indirectly. It only happens, though, when all outlets act in collusion - FoxNews has tried very hard to change "suicide bomber" to "homicide bomber" all by itself yet I can't think of a single person that risks sounding so silly as to say it. But when all news channels happily adopted Pentagon labels like "Operation Iraqi Freedom" and "shock and awe," they spread across the country like Captain Trips. Ubqiutous use creates a critical mass in which "block and bridge" phrases enter the common lexicon - kinda like "wazuuuuuuuuup" or, um, "blog."
"Block and bridge" is a public relations term for an effect that a public speaker can have on the train of thought of a receptive listener. The "listener" is not necessarily a reporter or an interviwer, but rather the "downstream" recipient of the message. I've been to a number of media training events where this technique isn't just covered as a line item on a power point slide, but is accorded an entire *unit* that denotes varied levels of nuance, subjective propriety, and so on. Once you know to look for blocking and bridging, entire press conferences unravel before your eyes and ears.
It works like this: questions, on the whole, are irrelevant. You enter a situation (this can be anything from the White House press corps to booth at Comdex) with your "message" clearly broken down into usually no more than seven "talking points" or "sound bites" Seven is the highest number of items that most humans can remember without reminder, hence seven-digit phone numbers and the fact that there are rarely more than seven bullet points on, say, a product data sheet. Answers to questions must always come down to these talking points.
So, what if someone asks a question outside the scope of the message? First, you block the train of thought, and then verbally bridge to your talking point. Effective blocking and bridging should be inconspicuous, and the best way to do that is to provide your off-topic answer as the response to your "understanding" of the question - like so:
On paper, I probably don't even need to pick that apart for its obviousness to stand out, but in the modulated air of a press conference given by people who've practiced and practiced their delivery, the CEO's reponse genuinely sounds like a answer to a question. But it's not.
"I think what you're asking" is the block "whether profits this year will be in line with our expectations" is the bridge. The speaker is redefining the question, at that point, the reporter and the original question becomes irrelevant. The talking points are "1) We are and remain a profitable company. 2) We've done record business this year." Whether "we expect to do so next year" is a talking point depends on teh speaker, since it could be part of the message or a well-placed optimistic non-promise. The last point is a more recent addition to the art of the block 'n bridge - I call it the Rumsfeld effect, although it definately preceeds him by a few years. It's the barely disguised insult hurled at the reporter, and by extension, the media, where anyone challenging the established position is treated like an idiot or a enemy. I name it after Rumsfeld because he brought the technique front-and-center, exposing it to some, endearing it to others.
If I had my druthers, I'd rename the entire block and bridge technique after Ari "The President Has Said" Fleischer, who was, I have to admit, a frickin' master. Bush had no better mouthpiece than Fleischer - because he made it all sound so natural and authoritative without stooping to Bush's overehearsed one liners or being terrifying like Karen Hughes. Next to Fleischer, Dan Bartlett, the current White House spokesperson, looks like the sawed-off, beady-eyed, mouthy little brother who says tough, smart-ass Texas things but says them in a reedy, midwestern white-boy shifty bitch cadence that makes me think of Michael Douglas' over-false "heee hee heeeee" laugh from The War of the Roses. Then again, coming after Fleischer, even Bill Clinton would have had a rough time. Read the transcript of any Fleischer press conference, and you have enough blocks and bridges to reconstruct New York City in the Gobi desert.
The real loot is stashed behind the blocks. Look there.
And the last expiry of the day: across the board. 'nuff said.
Actually I once had a phone conversation with a geek who began EVERY sentence with the word "actually". Try it sometime for fun...One of my pet peeves actually, besides the overuse of "actually" is "having said that"/"that having been said"/"that said" etc. I believe this started with the talking heads on Sunday morning TV. Since they are not too bright and rarely have anything of value to say, they needed a phrase that brought self-importance upon the speaker. Eventually it spread like a cancer into common use and ended up on the lips of the local six-o'clock newscaster.He goes on to add:
Add to my list of overused word/phrase-of-the-month the following: "paradigm shift"/"sea change", "at the end of the day" and "in the -blank- space" as in "the aftermarket dildo space".So, so, true. I've wrestled with my own "actually" demons - only mine was "basically," which actually seems like a more condescending variant of actually. I've heard these words referred to as "hedge words;" words that people throw into the mix to give themselves time to find a way around a competing phrase or idea. I don't think the phrase is entirely apt: a "hedge words/phrase" presupposes wiliness or dishonesty, which isn't always true.
Talking and thinking simultaneously is an artform that very few can master to any degree of dexterity, and doing so usually requires a pause, however brief. Unforuntely, we've been conditioned that "uhhh" and "ummm" are crutches of the stupid, which they're not. Granted, they can be annoying as hell, especially when listening to a speaker on the radio or some other venue where they're not seen, and if someone who "uhhs" a lot is standing next to someone who doesn't, they will definately seem less in command of their thoughts (see 2004 Presidential Debate #1). The "uhhhhhs" and "mmmmm" or "ngggggs" stand out like warts and can make some speakers intolerable. Knowing this, newscasters, some politicians, and marketers have worked hard to supplant these nonverbal audible pauses with ever more inane and repitive phrases like "that having been said" and "I think what we're seeing here is" and "if you take a look at the bigger picture, what emerges is a sense that..." and the like.
To me, a real hedge phrase is one that appears to express a point, but instead strongly suggests it while leaving a bail-out hatch for later back-spinning in necessary. Politicians are not the sole officers of this tactic, only the most visible on television. I do it all the time, even when I don't mean to. Phrases like"suggest" and "seems to" and "a kind of a" are a way of tinting the hair without dying it, a shade that will wash out with a few shampoos if necessary. So, for example, a military analyst on CNN will say that "The rise in insugent-related casualties Iraq seems to suggest a new level of lawlessness." Well, no, they don't "seem to suggest" lawlessness, or even "suggest" lawlessness, they *illustrate* lawlessness. Nobody can say that, though, because the statement is so clear that, if spoken in public, one is locked in.
I don't think hedge phrases are inherently bad, and in fact, are appropriate when a public figure is confronted with a question that is new to them or about a topic they don't know about. As much as I'd like my leaders to say, "I don't know, I'll get back to you," I live in this world and realize that won't fly with the character assassins and footsoldier bloglodites that lie in wait to shred the character of those with whom they disagree. But to move from a clear position to a mire of hedges is disastrous - witness the Bush administration's deliberate shift in language from "known stockpiles of nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons of mass destruction" to "Saddam engaged in weapons of mass destruction programs" to the State of the Union coup de gras, "weapons of mass destruction-related program activities."
And while we're on the topic, an Iraq-related idiomatic expiry is "on the ground," a la "Things look bad on the TV, but on the ground real progress is being made." As the 2004 Presidential campaign moves on, "on the ground" is used by both candidates with a mounting suggestion that those who haven't been "on the ground " don't have what it takes to be President. The Kerry camp uses it as a 21st century replacement for of "in country." The Bushies uses it to suggest that their team is intimately famliar with the day-to-day lives of the tired and strung out poverty-class soldiers and reservists that follow orders and pray their families never have to see a grainy web video where they're sitting cross-legged in a jumpsuit in front of a man holding a massive serrated carving blade. I bet if you asked the Bergs about the reality on the ground, they might suggest that their family cut isn't worth your tax cut.
Anyway, I think H0lyC0w's analysis is correct: much of 24-hour cable "infotainment" is driving the rampant adoption of many of these phrases, both directly and indirectly. It only happens, though, when all outlets act in collusion - FoxNews has tried very hard to change "suicide bomber" to "homicide bomber" all by itself yet I can't think of a single person that risks sounding so silly as to say it. But when all news channels happily adopted Pentagon labels like "Operation Iraqi Freedom" and "shock and awe," they spread across the country like Captain Trips. Ubqiutous use creates a critical mass in which "block and bridge" phrases enter the common lexicon - kinda like "wazuuuuuuuuup" or, um, "blog."
"Block and bridge" is a public relations term for an effect that a public speaker can have on the train of thought of a receptive listener. The "listener" is not necessarily a reporter or an interviwer, but rather the "downstream" recipient of the message. I've been to a number of media training events where this technique isn't just covered as a line item on a power point slide, but is accorded an entire *unit* that denotes varied levels of nuance, subjective propriety, and so on. Once you know to look for blocking and bridging, entire press conferences unravel before your eyes and ears.
It works like this: questions, on the whole, are irrelevant. You enter a situation (this can be anything from the White House press corps to booth at Comdex) with your "message" clearly broken down into usually no more than seven "talking points" or "sound bites" Seven is the highest number of items that most humans can remember without reminder, hence seven-digit phone numbers and the fact that there are rarely more than seven bullet points on, say, a product data sheet. Answers to questions must always come down to these talking points.
So, what if someone asks a question outside the scope of the message? First, you block the train of thought, and then verbally bridge to your talking point. Effective blocking and bridging should be inconspicuous, and the best way to do that is to provide your off-topic answer as the response to your "understanding" of the question - like so:
REPORTER to CEO: "Won't the losses incurred in the class-action lawsuit significantly impact CorpCo's fiscal bottom line this year?"
CEO: "I think what you're asking is whether profits this year will be in line with our expectations, and to that I have to say we are a profitable company, we remain profitable, we've done record business this year alone, and we expect to do so next year as well. Our shareholders can, and should, rest easy, and are smart enough to avoid rumormongering and lackluster reporting."
On paper, I probably don't even need to pick that apart for its obviousness to stand out, but in the modulated air of a press conference given by people who've practiced and practiced their delivery, the CEO's reponse genuinely sounds like a answer to a question. But it's not.
"I think what you're asking" is the block "whether profits this year will be in line with our expectations" is the bridge. The speaker is redefining the question, at that point, the reporter and the original question becomes irrelevant. The talking points are "1) We are and remain a profitable company. 2) We've done record business this year." Whether "we expect to do so next year" is a talking point depends on teh speaker, since it could be part of the message or a well-placed optimistic non-promise. The last point is a more recent addition to the art of the block 'n bridge - I call it the Rumsfeld effect, although it definately preceeds him by a few years. It's the barely disguised insult hurled at the reporter, and by extension, the media, where anyone challenging the established position is treated like an idiot or a enemy. I name it after Rumsfeld because he brought the technique front-and-center, exposing it to some, endearing it to others.
If I had my druthers, I'd rename the entire block and bridge technique after Ari "The President Has Said" Fleischer, who was, I have to admit, a frickin' master. Bush had no better mouthpiece than Fleischer - because he made it all sound so natural and authoritative without stooping to Bush's overehearsed one liners or being terrifying like Karen Hughes. Next to Fleischer, Dan Bartlett, the current White House spokesperson, looks like the sawed-off, beady-eyed, mouthy little brother who says tough, smart-ass Texas things but says them in a reedy, midwestern white-boy shifty bitch cadence that makes me think of Michael Douglas' over-false "heee hee heeeee" laugh from The War of the Roses. Then again, coming after Fleischer, even Bill Clinton would have had a rough time. Read the transcript of any Fleischer press conference, and you have enough blocks and bridges to reconstruct New York City in the Gobi desert.
The real loot is stashed behind the blocks. Look there.
And the last expiry of the day: across the board. 'nuff said.
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