Microsoft and Me

Is Microsoft Word Our Newest English Language Teacher?

Microsoft and me … Or is it ‘I’?  ‘Me’?  I spend vast chunks of my life staring at Microsoft Word documents.  For years now I have composed university essays and letters and fiction and job applications between its pre-set margins.  It is convenient, after all.  I type far faster than I write by hand.  A dictionary and a thesaurus wait, just one click away, to offer me friendly advice. 

But what effect, if any, has this convenience had on my grammatical ability?  What effect does it have on a student’s?

If, for example, in a moment of woeful neglect we claim that a building has three stories, will Word suggest that perhaps that building consists instead of storeys?  And if it does not, will we manage independently to spot the error?

And what about that last sentence (and this one, in fact)?  Should it have begun with an ‘and’?  Perhaps a primary school teacher or a parent, raising their eyebrows at the perceived grammatical faux pas, once warned you never to start a sentence with a conjunction.  In fact, the Oxford dictionary tells us that it is “not grammatically incorrect to do so”, in moderation.  But do we understand this, or is our knowledge based – assumptively – solely on Microsoft Word’s decision not to flag it up for our attention?      

I’ve begun this post with a series of negative propositions.  But, equally, I might have shaped it positively from the off. 

I might have argued that, were we to mistake a ‘begun’ for a ‘began’ or a ‘began’ for a ‘begun’, for example, Word would alert us by decorating it with a helpful, wobbly blue line; that if we, straining perhaps towards a word we were unsure of, suggested let’s say that ‘unnecessary’ was spelt with an ‘s’ in place of the ‘c’, Word would assist us by underscoring the blunder in red.  In doing so, then, is Microsoft Word now acting as another kind of teacher?  And if it is, are its methods adequate?  Do we learn by having these mistakes detected for us, or do we, in expectation of the appearance of that useful, undulating line, grow lazy?  Does the use of technology such as Microsoft Word help or hinder our understanding of the English language?  

It would depend, I suppose, on the way in which we learn.

If we learn visually, it is possible Word’s kindly squiggle is enough to keep our English language skills up to scratch.  For the auditory or kinaesthetic learner, however, additional information would most likely be required to solidify the learning.  After all, Microsoft Word cannot ask the auditory learner to memorise and recite poetry.  Microsoft Word cannot ask the kinaesthetic learner to act out a verb.

Bass and Vaughan, 1974, claim that ‘Learning is a relatively permanent change in an individual’s behaviour resulting from practice or experience’.  Perhaps then the only way to test Word’s ability to produce a relatively permanent change is to shut down our computers and pick up a pen.  Perhaps, from time to time, we should all challenge our knowledge with a blank piece of paper.