Being a linguist and professional copyeditor comes with a unique perspective on language, one that challenges the idea of rigid correctness or a one-size-fits-all approach to communication. When people think of editors, some picture the grammar police—someone who zealously enforces grammar rules at the expense of flow, meaning, or the writer’s personal voice. But that’s not who I am, nor is it how I approach language. In fact, being a linguist directly opposes that mentality. Language, at its core, is descriptive, not prescriptive—it’s a reflection of human experience, not a rulebook. And that’s what makes it so powerful.
Language is descriptive, not prescriptive
To say that language is descriptive means that linguists study how people actually use language in everyday situations, rather than dictating how it “should” be used. Language is a living, breathing system that reflects the human experience in all its diversity. A linguist—or any true lover of language—doesn’t scold someone for using “ain’t” or saying “gonna”; they observe, understand, and appreciate the unique ways in which different people communicate.
A prescriptive approach, which is more aligned with the so-called “grammar police” mentality, insists that there is a correct way to use language, and everything else is cringeworthy and wrong. But the reality is much more nuanced.
Language is constantly evolving
One key aspect that prescriptive grammar overlooks is that language is always evolving. What’s considered “correct” today wasn’t necessarily so fifty or a hundred years ago, and it won’t be in fifty years’ time. Shakespeare’s English, for example, sounds quite different from modern English, yet it’s still English (and I’m certainly not going to argue with Shakespeare).
Similarly, words like “literally” have shifted in meaning; today, it’s often used to mean the opposite, something that confounds purists, but that’s how language works: it adapts to the needs (and whims) of its speakers. New words, expressions, and even grammatical structures emerge and fall out of use over time.What was once considered incorrect or slang can become part of the standard. Words like “tweet” or “selfie,” unthinkable a few decades ago, are now commonplace.
This is also evident in digital language, where internet slang and text messaging are influencing writing. Expressions like “LOL,” “haha,” and emojis are part of an ever-growing lexicon that allows for faster, more playful communication in digital spaces. Language is not a museum piece; it’s a living tool that adapts and evolves with its users.
Playing with words and grammar for artistic purposes
Far from rigid rules, language is often at its most powerful when we bend or even break them. Writers, poets, musicians, and artists have long played with grammar and language in creative ways to enhance meaning, create rhythm, or evoke emotions. Consider Hone Tuwhare, a celebrated New Zealand poet, who blended Māori and English, often eschewing formal grammar to reflect oral traditions and a deep connection to the land. His poem Rain (excerpt below, full poem here) personifies the rain with simple yet profound imagery:
“I can hear you
making small holes
in the silence
rain
…the something
special smell of you
when the sun cakes
the ground…”
Tuwhare’s free verse flows naturally, breaking conventional grammatical rules yet powerfully evoking a sense of reverence and belonging. His language captures the essence of rain, not through structured forms but through an intuitive and emotional connection.
In music, Bob Dylan’s lyrics often defied convention, using fragmented sentences and unexpected shifts in tense and perspective. These deliberate “mistakes” weren’t errors; they were stylistic choices that amplified the emotion and complexity of his work.
“When you ain’t got nothing, you got nothing to lose”— Like a Rolling Stone.
In fiction, we see authors using non-standard grammar and language to reflect character, culture, or dialect. In Trainspotting, the novel by Irvine Welsh, the use of Scottish dialect gives the characters a distinct voice and adds authenticity to the narrative. This creative use of language deepens the connection between reader and character, making their voices more real and visceral.
“Ah choose no tae choose life; Ah choose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are nae reasons. Who needs reasons when ye’ve goat heroin?” – Trainspotting.
Anti-snobbery and linguistic diversity
Part of the joy of being a linguist is appreciating the incredible variety of ways people speak, across different regions, social classes, and communities. No dialect or way of speaking is inherently superior to another. For example, working-class dialects or regional accents are often looked down upon by those who champion “standard” English as the only correct form. But from a linguistic perspective, all dialects are equally valid; they simply serve different communities and contexts.
Two examples of this are African American Vernacular English (AAVE) and New Zealand Māori English, both of which have their own unique grammar, syntax, and vocabulary. AAVE, with phrases like “He be working,” uses the habitual aspect “be” to show something that happens regularly, which is often misunderstood or judged unfairly by those unfamiliar with it. Similarly, Māori English features distinct intonation and sentence structures, such as “We been waiting for ages, eh?” where “eh” is used to seek agreement or confirmation, reflecting the influence of Māori conversational patterns. Both AAVE and Māori English are linguistically rich and complex, deserving the same level of respect as any other dialect. To impose a “standard” form of English as the only right way to communicate overlooks the cultural and social significance of diverse ways of speaking.
The idea that there is a “correct” way to speak or write is not only inaccurate but can also become a form of linguistic elitism. This mentality can perpetuate social inequalities, as not everyone has access to the same level of education or literacy. People from different socioeconomic backgrounds may not have had the opportunity to learn or use so-called “proper” forms of language, and judging them for it is a form of class-based prejudice.
Elitism in language also ignores the fact that language belongs to all its speakers, not just the educated. Enforcing rigid language norms often reinforces social hierarchies, excluding people based on their background, education, or class. Take the case of accents and regional dialects: people from rural areas or less affluent regions may be dismissed as less intelligent or capable simply because they don’t speak in a standardised way. This not only overlooks their communication abilities but also reflects a deeper, systemic bias.
Breaking the myth of a single “correct” way to use language
The idea that there is only one correct way to use a language is not only wrong—it’s restrictive. It stifles creativity and disregards the cultural, social, and personal value of non-standard forms. Language isn’t about perfection; it’s about communication and expression. The best use of language is the one that conveys meaning most effectively in a given context, whether it follows strict grammatical rules or not.
As a linguist, I embrace this diversity. As a copyeditor, my role is often to refine language, to help my clients communicate more clearly or to match a certain professional standard. But I’m always mindful of not imposing unnecessary restrictions. My job isn’t to erase their unique voice or force their writing into an artificial mould of “correctness.” Instead, I aim to strike a balance between clarity, readability, and authenticity.
Balancing standardisation with authentic voice
This brings me to the heart of my work as a copyeditor. While I am tasked with correcting grammatical imperfections and standardising language for clarity, I always keep my client’s voice and intent at the forefront. Yes, I correct typos, ensure consistency, and smooth out awkward phrasing, but I also know when to step back and let the writer’s personality shine.
Sometimes, a grammatically “incorrect” phrase works perfectly in its context because it conveys the right tone or emotion. In other cases, a colloquial expression communicates far better than a more formal construction would. In these instances, I recognise that the purpose of language is being fulfilled: effective communication is taking place, and that’s what really matters.
If you love something, set it free
A true lover of language doesn’t chain it to rigid rules or force it into a narrow mould. Language, like love, thrives on freedom, creativity, and diversity. It’s as varied and dynamic as the people who speak it, constantly evolving, adapting, and reflecting the rich tapestry of human experience. There is no single “correct” way to speak or write; it’s more like a painting by Dalí than a recipe for tortilla española (con cebolla). Imposing rigid rules often stifles the very essence of what makes communication meaningful, fluid, alive, and beautiful.
As an editor, I bring this love of language to everything I do. My role isn’t to be a gatekeeper of rules, but a guide, helping my clients express themselves clearly while honouring their unique voice and understanding that language isn’t static—it breathes, evolves, and adapts to the context and needs of each individual. After all, any good lover knows that real beauty and power aren’t found in perfection and rule-following, but in the ability to connect, inspire, and reveal ourselves in a language that goes beyond words.