The following online article has been derived mechanically from an MS produced on the way towards conventional print publication. Many details are likely to deviate from the print version; figures and footnotes may even be missing altogether, and where negotiation with journal editors has led to improvements in the published wording, these will not be reflected in this online version. Shortage of time makes it impossible for me to offer a more careful rendering. I hope that placing this imperfect version online may be useful to some readers, but they should note that the print version is definitive. I shall not let myself be held to the precise wording of an online version, where this differs from the print version. Published in English Language and Linguistics 1.187–91, nominally 1997 but actually 1998. |
Roger Mitton, English Spelling and the Computer. Longman, 1996, x + 207 pp.
ISBN 0 582 23479 4 CSD
ISBN 0 582 23478 6 PPR
Reviewed by:
Geoffrey Sampson
School of Cognitive and Computing Sciences
University of Sussex
Most of us nowadays use word-processor systems which
offer a “spelling-check” facility that attempts to compensate for spelling
errors. Anyone who has tried using
a spelling checker must be aware of how limited their performance is. To see how it worked, I once ran the
spelling checker included in my WP package over a report I had written for the
local newsletter, about a visit to our village by a (then) cabinet
minister. Memorably, the system
identified Hurd
as a word not found in its dictionary, and offered to correct it to Turd.
Roger Mitton describes a research project he has been
working on to produce a good spelling-check system. The work has lasted over many years; some passages read as
if they were written at a period (not so long ago, after all) when word
processors even of a primitive type were not yet widely used. For Mitton it is perhaps bad luck that
mechanical spelling-check technology, which may have been an original idea when
he first decided to work on it, has since become a standard part of writers’ equipment. But that does not rob the book of its
value, because the workings of commercial WP systems are not normally discussed
at length in the public domain. It
is unlikely that they use techniques fundamentally different from those Mitton
explores, but this book is the best source I know for a clear analysis of the
problems and the methods by which a machine can attempt to solve them. Mitton surveys others’ systems, where
these are documented, as well as describing his own. Furthermore, he pays special attention to mechanical
compensation for the performance of really poor spellers whose writing is on
the border of comprehensibility.
This is probably not a priority for commercial spelling checkers,
because very poor spellers are not given the clerical jobs that provide the
main commercial justification for this technology.
The system I used could not respond in a sensible way to Hurd because no electronic
dictionary can include comprehensive lists of proper names – there are too
many. Another large problem area
is where a mis-spelled word coincides with the correct spelling of a different
word. A typist might transpose form into from or vice versa; a poor speller might
write wether
for whether,
and wether
is a good word meaning a castrated ram.
If a spelling checker considers each word separately, mistakes like
these are undetectable. In
principle they might be located by reference to their grammatical and/or
semantic inappropriateness in context; but this is no panacea, because
correctly-spelled prose contains plenty of grammatical and semantic
surprises. All these and other
issues are examined by Mitton, in an admirably down-to-earth style which never
commits the academic sin of retreating into opaque jargon to get past the
difficult bits.
Mitton’s system naturally does not include the glossy
user-interface features which, at a guess, account for half or more of the
coding under the bonnet of a commercial spelling checker. It would be futile for an academic
researcher to try to rival those aspects of commercial systems; Mitton has focused
his effort on the central task of identifying mis-spelled words and proposing
likely corrections. His
achievement is impressive. He
tested his system against 1991 versions of six commercial spelling checkers, on
two kinds of imperfectly-spelled inputs:
office documents, and writing by low-ability 14-year-olds. With both kinds of input, Mitton’s
system outperformed all six commercial products. Mitton’s system was particularly good at proposing what was
actually the correct word as the first possibility in the list of alternative
corrections (as he rightly says, it is doubtful whether “poor spellers find it
helpful to have the required word buried somewhere in a list … they would like
it at the top”). I was rather
sorry on Mitton’s behalf to see in a footnote that a 1995 test on the new version
of Microsoft Word gave results better than Mitton’s system on office documents.
While Mitton’s system rates very well against existing
commercial systems, the other question is how well any of these systems
performs relative to the task confronting them. As Mitton would agree, the answer here must be “not
well”. On the children’s writing,
for instance, the proportion of errors not even detected (let alone accurately
corrected) varied with different systems between 36% and 40%. (Mitton’s system gave the best figure,
the new Microsoft system was equal-worst on this particular measure.) As one incorporates increasingly subtle
considerations into a spelling-checker algorithm, the resulting performance
improvements are subject to rapidly diminishing returns. Mitton’s book concludes with an
expression of faith that, ultimately, the problems can all somehow be
overcome: “The spellchecker that
is as good as a good typist is not yet a reality, but there is no reason to
think that it is only a dream.” To
me it seems that Mitton’s own analysis gives good reasons to think that. But this prospect leaves me less gloomy
than it would Mitton, for reasons that relate to his other topic.
In his early chapters, Mitton discusses the general
educational and social significance of poor spelling and the complexities of
the English spelling system.
Mitton surveys the history of English orthography, he examines various
projects of spelling reform and spelling education, and he discusses the
virtues and vices of our existing spelling.
Some British and American linguists in recent decades
have argued that traditional English orthography is more systematic than it
seems: part, at least, of the
reason why our spelling is complicated is that it reflects complexities
inherent in the spoken language.
There may be a measure of truth in this, but Mitton argues that as a
general picture it is misleading:
English spelling really is full of arbitrary irregularities which stem
from historical accidents of many different kinds, and correspond to no
features of modern spoken English.
I am sure Mitton is quite correct in reasserting the
common-sense view of English spelling as unsystematic. It is harder to keep company with him,
though, when he assumes that this has significant deleterious
consequences. Mitton’s position
here is a good deal more moderate and reasonable than, for instance, the
proponents of various spelling-reform projects; but Mitton does make it clear that
he sees our irrational orthography as a factor hindering the acquisition of
literacy.
Earlier in this century, when languages other than those
of Western Europe ranked as mysterious exotica, it is understandable that
people saw irregular spelling as a bar to literacy acquisition. The orthographies of all familiar
languages were visibly based, closely or more distantly, on a
one-sound-one-letter principle, so it was natural to imagine that regularity in
this respect mattered. The same
view is not seriously tenable in today’s smaller world. To take the most extreme case: Japan has one of the highest literacy
rates of any nation, but Japanese orthography is in large part not merely not
phonemically regular but not predictable from the spoken language at all (and
Japanese writing is replete with complications apart from the fact of not being
phonemic). If one’s linguistic
perspective includes Japanese, to call English orthography difficult is a joke.
One cannot plausibly explain failure by young Britons to
conquer difficulties that would be trivial for Japanese by reference to higher
Japanese IQ levels, because the situation in Britain has been changing fast. Not long ago it was normal for Britons
with less schooling than the current legal minimum, and modest socio-economic
aspirations, to be able to write without spelling errors, needing to consult a
dictionary at most for an occasional difficult word that they rarely used. The present situation in which many university
students cannot spell even very common words has come about well within my
working lifetime (i.e. since the late 1960s); it is a consequence not of the
inherent difficulty of the task or of children’s innate abilities, but of
changing ideology in the schoolteaching profession. In the 1990s, as documented by Melanie Phillips (1996),
primary teachers using successful and long-established teaching methods often
have to do so in semi-secrecy, for fear of black marks from superiors who
advocate novel teaching styles that supposedly foster children’s creativity,
but do not actually lead to them learning much.
To achieve anything worthwhile in this world, one needs
not only an element of creativity but also a willingness to get innumerable
petty details right: that seems to
be a universal (if, perhaps, depressing) truth about human life. In most ages I believe it has been
taken for granted that one function of schooling is to inculcate the habit of
attention to detail. Mastery of a
moderately irregular orthography looks like an ideal initial training task from
that point of view: it requires
some effort and care, and leads to an outcome with relatively obvious
intellectual and social payoffs.
If teachers nowadays are in effect saying to primary pupils “Here is the
way your language is written, but no-one really minds whether you get it right
or not”, that sounds like an unbeatable way of turning Britain into a
low-achievement society.
Consequently it is a matter for rejoicing rather than
sorrow if, as Mitton’s book appears to show, good mechanical spelling-correction
is unachievable. While that
remains true, there is no hiding the success or failure of the teaching
profession at one of the most basic of all educational tasks. If computers could compensate for bad
human spelling, professional spokesmen could claim that early learning was
working fine when it was not; the consequences of daft educational philosophies
would become visible only at later ages, when it is much harder to change
intellectual habits. Long live
spelling checkers which confuse Hurd with Turd.
REFERENCE
Phillips, Melanie (1996). All must have prizes. London: Little,
Brown.