JodyByrne.com

Time to throw away your dictionaries?

One of the great myths of technical translation is that it is all about specialised terminology. It isn’t that surprising really because it is one of the first things that strikes most people when they look at a technical text. But is it really such a problem? Peter Newmark once said that terminology accounts for a mere 5-10% of a typical technical text. I recently spoke to a senior translator from the World Intellectual Property Organization who said that their analyses of patent abstracts showed a 50% terminology content but I would say that, given the specialised and highly specific function of these texts, this is probably the exception rather than the rule.

"Damn you to hell bulky over-priced dictionaries. I've got me an Internet!"

A more practical use for dictionaries?

But anyway, assuming that Newmark’s estimate is true and even taking into account the myriad types of texts where the proportion of terminology may vary slightly, you have to ask the question: So what? What’s the big deal with terminology? Continue reading

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The devil is a great language teacher

Technically I was learning Spanish here with my band Mortuum

Technically I was learning Spanish here with my band Mortuum

I was toying with calling this post “The devil made me do it” or “Heavy metal made me what I am” but I was a little concerned about the kind of people that would attract to the site. Anyway, what I’m trying to get across is that in this day and age of global English and what many people regard as cultural homogenisation, heavy metal is one of the few remaining bastions where it’s actually okay not to be a “world citizen” speaking (and singing) in some clichéd mid-Atlantic variety of English.

This might sound like some pathetic exercise in jingoistic fist-waving at all things global but it’s really not. Spend more than a few minutes looking through the Myspace pages of various metal bands and you’ll notice something strangely curious. Lots of them are singing in their own languages. Even the people who speak languages that aren’t considered to be “beautiful” in the traditional sense. It doesn’t make sense. It shouldn’t make sense, but for some strange reason it does. Continue reading

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Weathering the storm in university

The new academic year is well and truly underway in pretty much every university everywhere and for most of us, academics and students alike, it’s a very hectic and, in some ways, exciting time as we meet our new students eager (hopefully) to learn new skills, put the finishing touches and generally come to grips with the new timetable and the bizarre room allocations which see us trekking to the most far flung outposts of the campus.

There are easier ways of weathering the storm

There are easier ways of weathering the storm

This year, however, I’ve noticed that we have a lot more students than we had last year and it’s gotten me wondering why. Last year, I don’t think anyone was surprised at the lower numbers because it came in the midst of the hysteria about the global recession and nobody was certain about anything. In such a climate, you can understand the reluctance of people to commit to the expense of higher education. Why would you leave a job to go back to university when there’s a chance you might not find another one for a while?

But while this explains what happened last year, it doesn’t explain this year. Now, we’ve all come to terms with the recession and most of the feelings of shock, horror and panic have gone, giving way instead to a grim acceptance that the economy will be in tatters for years to come and employment prospects are going to be quite dismal unless you do something beef up your arsenal with some new qualifications.

Are people realising that the best place to sit out a recession is in university? After all, providing you have the money set aside or can get a big enough loan, going back to university full-time means you have at least one full year where you don’t have to worry about whether you’re going to be made redundant. From my own experience here in Sheffield (which is purely speculative and by no means conclusive) this seems to be borne out in part by the make-up of students. We are seeing fewer international students but a lot more European students, particularly UK students. This would seem to suggest that the scarcity of money is causing people to reconsider the expensive business of foreign study; international students pay much higher fees than UK or EU students. But it does suggest that UK students are doing the sensible thing during a recession and waiting it out in the relative calm of university. I’d also wager that the same thing is happening in many other countries. By the time they’re ready to go back to the real world, they’ve survived another year of doom and gloom with their sanity relatively intact and they’ve acquired some new skills which will give them the chance to either change career direction or rejoin the workplace with a competitive advantage. It’s really not a bad idea at all!

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Those who can’t, teach…

George Bernard Shaw once said something along the lines of “He who can, does. He who cannot, teaches“. As a student I often chuckled at this thought as I sat in translation class wondering whether any of my lecturers had ever worked as translators and whether they really knew what translation was all about and I still chuckled several years later as a full-time professional translator. Now that I’m a lecturer, I’m not chuckling any more.

The view really isn't that good from up here

The view really isn't that good from up here.

The decision to go into academia was not one that I consciously made, it just kind of happened. Let’s just say that when you get a PhD you just tend to drift into university life because that’s just what people do. Why else would you devote three years to pursuing something that is essentially preparation for life as a researcher and lecturer? But having said that, it’s not a bad career choice once you get used to the idiosyncrasies of academia.  On the one hand, academic life is less fraught with the day-to-day financial worries of freelancing full-time and it means you can just take on those jobs that are interesting, not the mundane donkey-work jobs. There’s also the satisfaction and sense of reward from passing on your experiences and helping students realise their potential. But on the other hand, you do get the sense that you are missing out on the cut and thrust of full-time translating, that somehow you’re not really a translator, merely a dabbler or worse still, that having gone from industry into academia, you’re a sell-out.

Having said that, I do think that in order to be a decent lecturer you need to be an active translator (or at least have recent professional experience). If for no other reason, because translating professionally can give you a plentiful supply of texts (assuming of course your clients agree to their texts being used) and it keeps you up to date with what’s happening in industry. Too many lecturers that I know of either are not active translators or have never translated professionally. The latter is something that really annoys me – how can you teach translation properly if you have never earned a living from it? In various institutions, I have seen lecturers whose only experience of translating has been the odd poem or novel written by some obscure medieval nobody. I’m sorry but this type of hobby translation coupled with degree in whatever doesn’t give you the knowledge and expertise you need to train translators for industry. Maybe Shaw had a point after all.

But ranting aside, I can’t do just one job. I get bored and frustrated. I can’t just be a translator no more than I can just be a lecturer. I love the variety of combining the two and I like the fact that I can pass on my experiences to students and for the most part, they appreciate this. Sure I get the occasional weirdo who does a translation degree but who has no intention of ever working as a translator but by and large it’s nice working with students and watching them develop as translators. I also like the fact that by being a translator I am doing what I trained to do – something from which I still derive an enormous amount of pleasure and which exercises parts of my brain that teaching just doesn’t. Translating also gives you a strong work ethic which I don’t think is all that common among some academics for whom the basic unit of working time is the week and not the hour.

So ultimately, as a lecturer who takes the job seriously, I find myself caught between two stools. The professional translators who might think I’ve sold out or that by living in the Ivory Tower I have lost touch with the “real” world, and the academics who have seriously misguided notions of translation competence and who look down on professional translators and anyone who isn’t a “traditional” academic (i.e. someone who has spent their entire working lives in the comfort of academia, researching the obscure, the surreal and often the irrelevant and who has never had to translate 3000+ words a day).

But this raises some interesting questions. Should you be allowed to teach if you have never worked as a professional translator? Should all university appointments be contingent on the prospective lecturer having a minimum level of experience outside academia? Would you trust a mechanic to fix the brakes on your car if he only had theoretical knowledge and had never actually stripped an engine or gotten oil under his finger nails? Would you trust a surgeon who had only read books but never cut open a human body? So why would you trust a lecturer who had never actually done the job they are training you for?

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Education at the speed of light (almost)… the Microlecture

Ferdinand von Prondzynsky (President of Dublin City University) recently posted an interesting article about a new phenomenon in education called the “microlecture”. Essentially a microlecture is a 60 second blast of information, delivered as a video or audio podcast. Now while Ferdinand, a man I have great respect for, was careful not to be instantly dismissive of what could be argued to be a daft new fad thought up by touchy feely educationalists eager to squander, I mean capture, more research funding he did point out that such an approach essentially eliminates some of the most important aspects of education: analysis, discussion and criticality. In this sense there is definitely a point to be made – most educational traditions eschew the rote learning approach in favour of students who can analyse, assess and create knowledge rather than mindlessly accept everything that is fed to them.

To put this in perspective I should probably explain a little bit about how microlectures work. Developed by David Penrose, the self-styled “One Minute Professor” microlectures involve stripping all of the unnecessary “padding” from a typical lecture and reducing it to a burst of keywords and phrases which are topped and tailed by roughly 30 seconds of introduction and conclusion. Lasting between 60 seconds to 3 minutes Penrose argues in an interview published on Chronicle.com that the format is a “framework for knowledge excavation” where “We’re going to show you where to dig, we’re going to tell you what you need to be looking for, and we’re going to oversee that process.” To some this might sound like a polite way of saying that lecturers get to put their feet up while the students do all the work (although others might ask whether this is a bad thing at all).

But anyway, let’s go back and address that niggling feeling which most of us probably have that microlecturing amounts to a dumbing down of education (a) because of the fact that a gimmicky 60 seconds is nowhere near long enough to impart all of the essential information and (b) there is no time or place for discussion, analysis or criticality. There probably is some mileage in the idea that the microlecture is not for everyone and most certainly not for every subject. At first glance it does seem more suited to technical or practical subjects than to certain theoretical subjects where analysis is essential.

Having said that, it is a possibility that it’s not the format or indeed its incompatibility with certain subjects that’s the problem. It could just be the course design and the sequencing of topics and classes within a course. In other words it might all boil down to the teachers themselves. I can see a clear use for microlectures as a primer for a particular topic. Imagine a microlecture outlining the key concepts in an area, say legal translation or usability issues in website design. Students are blasted with a bite-size overview of the topic and then told to build on it in preparation for a conventional lecture, tutorial or workshop in a week or two. This would, I imagine, usher students into a learning style where they create their own knowledge, they direct their own learning… already buzzwords like constructivism, inquiry-based learning, transferable skills and information literacy are circling overhead like flies. And this, I think, might be the hidden value of microlectures. It’s not what they contain, it’s how they can be used. As a primer or starting point, the microlecture can represent a scaffold (constructivist slang for “a hook to hang your coat on”) upon which students can build knowledge as they explore and learn about a subject. I’m not sure whether it will work – I think there are various pedagogical, organisational and cultural issues to be tackled – and only time will tell whether this is a genuine advance in learning or just another woolly attempt to pander to what some would call the Facebook generation with their ever-decreasing attention spans.

For more information about the microlecture format, take a look at the following:

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