By Michael Grealy
At a recent reunion of cadet journalists who began their careers at The Adelaide Advertiser in 1972, conversation turned to shorthand and the expectation that we would attain speeds of 120 words a minute or have our passage to graded journalist delayed until we did.
Back then, 40 years ago, we studied the shorthand based on sound that had been developed by a young school-teacher from Bath, Isaac Pitman.
Pitman’s shorthand, or Stenographic Sound-Hand, first appeared in a book published in 1837 by Samuel Bagster of Paternoster Row, London. Price, four-pence.
The 175th anniversary of Pitman’s milestone is unlikely to get much coverage in London this year, given the inevitable celebrations of Queen Victoria’s ascension to the English throne, which also occurred in 1837, not to mention the current Queen’s 60th anniversary as monarch and, of course, the London Olympics.
So here’s a little of how Pitman launched the shorthand that would be adapted later for 15 languages from French and Spanish to Hindi and Arabic.
The introduction in his book was enthusiastic, to say the least. He wrote: “That short-hand is an invaluable acquirement, every one practically possessed of it is convinced; and without making one’s self liable to the charge of arrogancy, it may be asserted, that the person who makes a regular use of it, is raised almost as high above the individual who knows only long-hand, as the man of science with the power of steam at his back, is above the common labourer.”
He piled on the alliteration: “It is the plainest practical plan of putting pen to paper for the production of peerless poems or profound and powerful prose for the press or private pursuits, ever published.”
Pitman (1813-1897) promised a thousand advantages accompanying the practice of the art of short-hand. “Every composer finds that frequently his thoughts outstrip his pen and many embryo ideas perish as soon as they are conceived, there being no means for their delivery according to our present circuitous mode of writing.”
Pitman said short-hand was Invaluable for clergy, barristers and all that attend courts of law, journalists and travellers. “Without Stenography, there would be no reporters – without reporters, no newspapers – without newspapers, no readers – and without readers, England would be thrown back two or three centuries in the march of civilisation.”
Over the years, I’ve found Pitman’s legacy pretty effective in meeting many a deadline, as a primary note-taking tool or a backup to generations of tape recorders and smartphones. Granted, my Pitman scrawls have remained a mystery to some colleagues while their employment of the newer Teeline has left me in the dark.
Pitman’s shorthand may be an amusing anachronism from the British Empire for today’s digital recorder-packing journalists.
But I note with interest that Australian Associated Press, which takes training of its journalists seriously, says shorthand is part of its program for cadets who are shown how to write “fast and tight.”
“Underpinning the program are intensive weekly lessons in Teeline shorthand, in which cadets must achieve 120 words per minute to graduate,” AAP warns on its careers site.
Sir Isaac Pitman’s ‘sound-hand’ may be a thing of the past but some things are constant, 40 years on.
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