Dot Wordsworth

Mind your language | 30 May 2009

Dot Wordsworth does some filing

Already a subscriber? Log in

This article is for subscribers only

Subscribe today to get 3 months' delivery of the magazine, as well as online and app access, for only £3.

  • Weekly delivery of the magazine
  • Unlimited access to our website and app
  • Enjoy Spectator newsletters and podcasts
  • Explore our online archive, going back to 1828

For two or three weeks now we have been reading orrible revelations in the Daily Telegraph. Should these be denominated revelations, disclosures or exposés? The Telegraph’s chosen tag is ‘The Expenses Files’. The information came from two million bits of paper — receipts for ginger biscuits and the like — stored, we are told, on a computer hard-drive. I have never been sure what a hard-drive is. The Oxford English Dictionary says it is ‘a high-capacity, self-contained storage device containing a read-write mechanism together with one or more hard disks inside a sealed unit’. I feel better informed now, but little wiser.

Files are indeed found on computers, for the word was current in computing from the 1950s, borrowed from the language of the filing clerk. I had not realised that file originally meant a string (from Latin filum) on which papers were strung, or that the Court of Chancery filed pleadings, which in Common Law courts were enrolled.

If the files provided revelations, the term revelation is quite modern, in the sense of ‘disclosure of something previously unknown’. It is first recorded in the writings of that plausible scientific pretender Herbert Spencer who, in 1862, wrote that ‘we have a veritable revelation in Science’ (with a reverential capital). Until then, revelation had come from a supernatural source, as in the Revelation of St John. (Those not in the habit of opening a Bible often refer to this book as ‘Revelations’. I was surprised to find that men of the standing of Robert Southey had done the same 200 years ago.)

A disclosure seems to me a voluntary act. The Telegraph disclosed things that the MPs would not disclose. As for an exposé, its connotations seem low or vulgar, no doubt because they are connected with journalists. In the 19th century the word was often pronounced as two syllables. Perhaps this can still be heard in a sentence from Elizabeth Banks’s autobiographical Newspaper Girl (1902): ‘Don’t go into it with the idea of an “expose”,’ says the editor. Those were the days for women journalists — well, they were not allowed to become MPs.

Comments

Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months

Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.

Already a subscriber? Log in