Know Your Words

Accountants: We’ve Got Your Number

Generic accounting
Apparently, the generic images of accounting are just as lame as the definitions.

I hate to be there bearer of bad news, but there is turmoil in the accounting profession. The bean counters and statement jockeys (?) are pissed, and they’re not going to take it anymore. Spreadsheets are being deleted, No. 2 pencils broken, ties loosened and top buttons unbuttoned. What has caused this uproar? A definition.

Perhaps you caught wind of this, for it was all over the news in recent weeks: accountants are unhappy with the Oxford English Dictionary‘s (OED) definition of accountant.

According to the website Accountancy Daily, accountants are much more than bean counters and spreadsheet jockeys (which no one ever calls them). To change this perception, they’re encouraging their comrades to sign a petition urging the OED’s editors to “‘update the definition of accountant to bring it in line with modern-day approaches to the role.'”

According to the aforementioned article, “the OED’s definition of accountant currently reads, ‘a person whose job is to keep or inspect financial accounts.’” Mr. Gary Turner, the co-founder of the cloud-based accounting platform Xero, would like it to be changed to “‘a person whose job is to keep or inspect and advise on financial accounts.'” Turner’s aim is simple. He wants the OED’s definition to “‘better reflect how much the role of an accountant has changed in the last two decades.'”

Naturally, the Butter Lamb had to look into this. Kerfuffles like this play right into the BLRL’s wheelhouse and gives the library a chance to flex its referential muscles.

But let’s start at the beginning. I looked accountant up in the (Compact) Oxford English Dictionary and was met with the following definition: “One who professionally makes up or takes charge of accounts; an officer in a public office who has charge of accounts.”

Okay, that is not very descriptive. Maybe Mr. Turner has a point. Although there are no accountants at the BLRL, it’s clear this definition falls far short of what an accountant does … probably.

Still, I can’t help but wonder why there’s such a focus on the OED. In addition to there being a host of other well-known dictionaries both in-print and online, there are a host of dictionaries devoted to the subject of accounting out there. Shouldn’t the definitions in these books carry some weight here, or at least be used to inform the discussion?

Surprisingly, the BLRL has one of these dictionaries (or in this case a “glossary”), in its collection: the Running Press Glossary of Accounting Language. So, with the aim of righting this vocational wrong, I cracked its cover and hoped for the a worthwhile definition to share. Much to my surprise, what I found, “one skilled in accounting,” was actually worse than the one I found in the compact OED. Yikes.

To be fair, the Running Press Glossary Accounting Language was published in 1978, so it’s not exactly hot off the press. Hence its lackluster definition. I am happy to report, however, that the book somewhat redeems itself with its more vigorous and expansive definition of accounting, which the bean-counter brigade might approve of. It reads:

The classification, recording, and interpretation of business transactions so that periodic statements can be prepared to indicate either the historical results of these transactions or the financial condition of the business.

That’s better, right? Maybe the editors of the Oxford English Dictionary could borrow some of this verbiage, or perhaps similar words from the many other dictionaries devoted to the subject, for its updated definition.



Apparently, the Running Press Glossary Accounting Language is available as an e-book here.

Know Your Words

The Fascicle Read ‘Round the World

On this day in 1884, the first portion, or fascicle, of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), considered the most comprehensive and accurate dictionary of the English language, is published. Today, the OED is the definitive authority on the meaning, pronunciation and history of over half a million words, past and present.

—, This Day in History

OED Dictionary Def
Part of the entry for “Dictionary” in the Oxford English Dictionary

Today (February 1) marks the debut of the Oxford English Dictionary, or at least its first fascicle, anyway.

What’s that? You don’t know what a fascicle is? That makes two of us. To the books!

Given the significance of this day, I looked to the compact Oxford English Dictionary for a definition. It did not disappoint. Fascicle is defined as:

1. A bunch, bundle. (Now only in scientific use.)
2. A part, number (of a work published in installments)

Webster’s New World Dictionary of the American Language generally agrees, but refers to a fascicle as a “small” bundle. It also adds a botanical definition for fascicle, “a small tuft or cluster of fibers, leaves, or flowers.”

Surprisingly, the word doesn’t appear in hardly any of my etymological dictionaries (including the Oxford Dictionary of Word Histories), except for Origins: A Short Etymological Dictionary of Modern English. This text traces fascicle back to the Latin word fasces, “a bundles of authoritative rods,” plural of fascis, a bundle. Origins continues:

Latin fascis has an Italian derivative fascio, a bundle, hence a political group, whence both fascismo, hence Fascism, and fascisti, hence Fascists.

Whew, I didn’t expect the history of this word to take such a hard right turn. I’m not surprised, though, given the appearance of the word “authoritative” in meaning of its root. No wonder the OED is deemed an “authority.” (Relax, that’s a joke.)

According to Wikipedia, the Oxford English Dictionary began as a project of the London Philological Society and was led by a small group of intellectuals (not associated with Oxford University) who were “dissatisfied with the existing English dictionaries.”

Those intellectuals were Richard Chenevix Trench, Herbert Coleridge, and Frederick Furnivall, and not one of them gets a mention in the Dictionary of Global Culture (DGC), which is kind of weird given that Maria Kuncewiczowa does. Nothing against Ms. Kuncewiczowa, of course, but you’d think that the originators of the OED would be just as important as a Polish novelist and short story writer. The DGC is a fairly thick book. You’d think there’d be room for both.The same could be said for a mention of the OED in the book. “Punk” gets a mention, why not the OED?

But I digress ….

According to, the OED was initially expected to be “a four-volume, 6,400-page work … estimated [to] take 10 years to finish. It took over 40 years until the 125th and final fascicle was published in April 1928 and the full dictionary was complete.” Awesome as that is, my favorite part of the OED’s origin story is that, as soon as it was finished, the editors began updating it.  “A supplement, containing new entries and revisions, was published in 1933 and the original dictionary was reprinted in 12 volumes and officially renamed the Oxford English Dictionary.

Know Your Words

Happy Anniversary OED!

oed-grabWhat up reference nerds? You may not know it, but today is a big day in lexicographical history!

According to, “On this day in 1884, the first portion, or fascicle, of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), widely considered to be the most comprehensive and accurate dictionary in the English language, was published.”

The website continues:

Plans for the dictionary began in 1857 when members of London’s Philological Society, who believed there were no up-to-date, error-free English dictionaries available, decided to produce one that would cover all vocabulary from the Anglo-Saxon period (1150 A.D.) to the present. Conceived of as a four-volume, 6,400-page work, it was estimated the project would take 10 years to finish. In fact, it took over 40 years until the 125th and final fascicle was published in April 1928 and the full dictionary was complete–at over 400,000 words and phrases in 10 volumes–and published under the title A New English Dictionary on Historical Principles.

As you know if you’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at one, the OED not only provides the common, present-day meanings of words. It also gives detailed etymologies and detailed chronological histories for every word or phrase contained between its covers.

Surely, working on the same project for 40 years seems like the very “definition” (heh, heh, heh) of commitment, but wouldn’t you know it, as soon as the OED was completed the editors began updating it! That effort continues today. Here’s a short history of its updates:

• A supplement, containing new entries and revisions, was published in 1933 and the original dictionary was reprinted in 12 volumes and officially renamed the Oxford English Dictionary

• Between 1972 and 1986, an updated 4-volume supplement was published

• In 1984, Oxford University Press embarked on a five-year, multi-million-dollar project to create an electronic version of the dictionary

• In 1992, a CD-ROM version of the dictionary was released, making it much easier to search and retrieve information

• Today, the dictionary’s second edition is available online to subscribers and is updated quarterly with over 1,000 new entries and revisions.

dic-defSo, in honor of this historic day, we’re going to celebrate the only way we know how: by digging into the definition and etymology of the word fascicle.

According to my compact OED, fascicle is defined as “a bunch or bundle,” and there’s a note saying the term is “now only in scientific use” (which could explain why I’ve never encountered it). In fact, it is such an archaic and/or specialized term that the Oxford Dictionary of Word Histories doesn’t even have an entry for it.

Eric Partridge’s Origins: A Short Etymological History of Modern English does, however. The entry reads (in part):

1. Latin fasces, a bundle of authoritative rods, plural of fascis, a bundle.
2. Latin fascis is derived from fascio, a bundle, hence a political group, whence both fascismo, hence Fascism (how timely!)
3. Intimately related to Latin fascis is Latin fascia, a band (as in a band of cloth), and fasciare, meaning “to wrap with a band.”

Now see, this is what I love about dictionaries! Who knew that a post celebrating the publication of the OED would introduce us to the origin of the word fascist? You can’t make this stuff up … but you can read about it.

Behold the power of dictionaries!