DC Metro Final Cut Pros

In his On Language column in Sunday’s The New York Times Magazine, William Safire writes about the three phases of language “compression.” The first phase occurred centuries ago, when contractions like “won’t” and “you’re” were introduced, much to the consternation of contemporary linguists. Next came the fusing of words – chuckle and snort blended into “chortle” and breakfast and lunch melded into “brunch.”

According to Safire, we are experiencing the latest phase as we speak (so to speak):

“Electronic communication has whisked us into a third phase of compression: the Age of Shortspeak . . . interminable, bor-r-ing four-second pauses are edited out. Humanizing uh, er, ah, um moments of meaningless vamping are pitilessly erased; even the dramatist’s ‘pregnant pause’ has been digitally aborted.”

This raises an interesting dilemma for editors of non-fiction work. The power to dictate message lies at the editor’s fingertips. Decisions as to content, order and duration have a profound effect on what the audience takes away from the piece. In the context of documentary, one might argue that there exists the responsibility to reflect what is captured accurately, even as the footage is inevitably shaped to communicate a specific story.

Straight to the point: how many ums and ahs of natural speech can be lifted before the truth has been altered beyond an acceptable level? In some circumstances, the substance of the speech rather than the authenticity of its delivery, is tantamount. In other situations, to adjust the quality (or lack thereof) of the speaker’s dialect is to deprive the audience of something important to the story. But, even given these variables, is there a rule – or set of rules – by which editors should abide when deleting out the ums?