Those who know about the printer’s devil may forgive the mistake.
Of course, congresspeople and their like will celebrate. Akoa no koraa s?? ?nnte br?fo, they would glee.
But those who don’t know will be shocked that kind of mistake can be committed by a professor; especially with his very next write-up following the one with that mistake beginning with ‘In proper English.’
The mistake is in the expression ‘music in my ears,’ with ‘ears’ mistakenly appearing as ‘years.’
On many, many occasions, I have had cause to warn my students against the homonymic trap or pitfall. Applicants familiar with writing entrance examinations would tell you they are often confronted with the trickery buried in accurately choosing between or among homonyms.
Those words raise doubts and confusion with their different spelling and meanings but sounding the same in pronunciation.
Colleagues had horror written in their faces when I mentioned the error to them. To many others, here is someone fervently unforgiving of an EC for errors, himself committing an error he shouldn’t be committing.
We are all susceptible to making mistakes. Without pleading excuse, though, I believe the frequency and the magnitude of the mistake should matter as to whether it should be condemnable or pardonable.
One of the reasons why congresspeople would be so pleased with my misery has to do with my unrelenting criticism of the error-ridden draft legislation and documentation their executive branch was usually submitting to Parliament.
The EC’s rush to create constituencies, as late as only three months to the 2012 general election, was one such occasion.
The azaa STX loan was riddled with errors. So were many other loan agreements.
I would once in a while go through the published work. At times, I would discover some edited stuff I wouldn’t like.
Seeing my ?s and ?s with awkward font sizes, making them outliers wasn’t comfortable. And one wouldn’t want to be calling the editor every time something like that was discovered. But once in a while, I would go through a published piece. Whenever that happens, it would usually be the online version. That is how this particular mistake was noticed on the morning of Monday, August 21, 2017.
The gatekeeping chain edits and proofreads for quality. Mistakes like that are supposed to be detected and corrected along the chain. However, it looks like the editor and the proof reader would hardly go spending more time to be extra careful when what is being edited or proofread has been written by a professor in the field. And, indeed, when I checked the version I sent, it was ‘years’ and not ‘ears.’ So if it escaped and skipped the professor’s notice, well, maybe it will go unnoticed. After all, the buck stops with the original writer.
When a reporter reports a story, the story may be written by the writer.
Actually, that is often the case. Yet, it is the reporter, and not the writer, who gets the byline, where the two are different. Legally, it is the byline that gets sued.
A lucky ‘byliner’ may be jointly sued with the editor and the publisher. Where the aggrieved is only interested in the reporter, only the byline would be sued. This is so, even when whatever is the subject of the suit may have come from the writer and not the reporter.
In situations where editors and proof readers believe they have been thorough with their work, mistakes are blamed on the ‘printer’s devil.’ I can see reactions of ‘Oh I see;’ ‘I can understand,’ from the matured and understanding who know about humankind’s fallibility short of perfection.
Congresspeople doubters, though, will go ‘?boa.’ I could have dishonestly pleaded ‘the printer’s devil.’ But he who runs away from admitting his mistakes is an arrogant deceiver who poses danger to the people whose interests he purports to serve.
I may have broken the rule that demands that one always be careful and meticulous and never complacently assume everything is correct. Ensure there is a final reading before submitting; just to grant yourself the opportunity of having to blame someone else for your mistake.
The editor or proof reader cannot be held responsible for a mistake of that nature. So, as for me, I have advised myself. I cannot guarantee it will never happen again but I am more than determined it will not reoccur.
I could keep mum hoping no one would have noticed the mistake. That would be the greatest pretension ever. Silence is golden. I needed not be silent. Neither did I need to be humiliated. I cannot hide my mistake. So if I have been caught for spelling it out, so be it. To my colleagues, my students and especially those who read me, I confess: ‘Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.’
By Kwasi Ansu-Kyeremeh